Gemology

On The Record with Alaris

2012-01-26T11:20:00.000-05:00

I read an interview a while back - an enigmatic blogger interviewing a renowned blogger, both whom I follow with great interest. It was wonderful to read - you learn more about the interviewer and the interviewee through the questions and answers. I mentioned to both how much I enjoyed their repartee, and the interviewer asked how I would feel about an interview.

I had never really considered it. Of course, us bloggers typically have disproportionately huge egos - it appeals to our vanity to be interviewed. It makes us easy bait for any arch-enemy. I could see Bugs Bunny tripping up Yosemite Sam with a pen and pad of paper in hand while wearing a suit jacket and spectacles asking about his recipe for rabbit fricassee. Except I haven't the dashing handlebar mustache of Yosemite Sam and I'm assuming Alaris doesn't have Bugs' conspicuously long... ears (what body part did you think I was going to say?) I just couldn't turn down the opportunity!

I loved his questions for their insight and wit - it was a fun experience. For the interview, please visit Alaris's blog at Alaris's Space. I enjoy his writing - I'm sure you will too.

Guilt, Expectations, and Deserving Honesty

2012-01-19T15:26:00.001-05:00

Guilt is a funny thing. I feel no guilt with DL because there is no expressed and agreed to commitment. With H, he was absent enough for it to feel acceptable so I felt no guilt because I was given a certain length of 'coping' (with which I could have easily hung myself). Let's not quibble over moral right and wrong, but that's how I saw it.

But now I am a little confused. I see H's sacrifices a little more clearly. He changes his lifestyle to be more physically present and more emotionally and financially supportive. Sure, I sacrifice too, he doesn't question that, in fact he does all he can to assist, but he bears his sacrifice in silence. We have each other for support., but he tries to be as strong as he possibly can without complaint, and that is a wonderful thing. And this is what brings in a twinge of guilt.

He goes above and beyond my expectations. He is a perfect mate. He endures hardship to ensure my comfort. He wasn't always this way. He has grown into our relationship and is far more caring and nurturing than he ever was before. All he asks in return is to be a good mate in return, and for him, this includes unequivocal monogamy. Doesn't a person who expresses such trusting and honest affection deserve to have their relationship expectations met? Hard question to answer, especially when I don't feel any differently about wanting a to have the odd naughty night out.

So what's a girl to do? Thankfully I don't feel the urge to do anything naughty at the moment. I have some time to mull this over. My libido tends to wake up in the spring when I'm coming out of hibernation, so these are the timelines I'm anticipating.

How potent must lust be to dissolve guilt? It's sad that I know there is an answer to this question, because it means I know that I can always succumb if all the elements fall into the right place.

Reflections on 2011

2011-12-31T15:26:00.000-05:00

I have a tradition of really thinking of thankfulness and blessings every year, and since I've started this blog I've posted that list. Some items are the same, some have changed. After all, one year is a long time in which we can grow and change. So to continue with my tradition...

Happy New Year y'all.
________________________________________

I am grateful for working on my own terms.

I am grateful for having the power to choose the path of my career.

I am grateful for past coworkers and will never forget the value they add to my life.

I am grateful for my successes and failures.

I am grateful for being financially stable.

I am grateful for our warm and comforting home and having plenty of people to fill it.

I am grateful for a full fridge and stocked larder.

I am grateful for the his and hers cars in our driveway.

I am grateful for my faith.

I am grateful for my good health and reliable medical care.

I am grateful for my strength.

I am grateful for my freedom.

I am grateful for the ability to exercise my rights.

I am grateful for my education, affording me my analytical and rational mind.

I am grateful for all the challenges I have had in my life.

I am grateful for having such wonderful, supportive, and loving parents.

I am grateful for having a sister who keeps me on the straight and narrow, or at least tries to.

I am grateful for those partners found by and who complete my loved ones.

I am grateful for having the chance to know my grandparents and listen to all their wisdom and learn something of my ancestry.

I am grateful for growing up Guyanese.

I am grateful for my large, rambunctious, quick-witted and humourous family.

I am grateful for cousins who are more like brothers and sisters.

I am grateful for my mother who has gone above and beyond helping me this year.

I am grateful for friendship.

I am grateful for fellow bloggers who test my boundaries.

I am grateful for the extra special blog-friends who will continue to be friends regardless of the blog.

I am grateful for having my boys who don't treat me like a girl.

I am grateful for having my girls who never judge me.

I am grateful for the circle of friends who are more like family.

I am grateful for love.

I am grateful for the greatest blessing in my future or my past; my daughter.

I am grateful for my marriage.

I am grateful for a husband who is the best partner he can be.

I am grateful for my stepdaughter and goddaughter and the honest affection in their eyes.

I am grateful for experiencing joy and love beyond words to the point where it draws tears from your eyes.

I am grateful for having someone love me so completely they are willing to let me go.

I am grateful for orgasms.

I am grateful for my love of writing, which leads me to my pride in my novels and my poetry.

I am grateful for my imagination.

I am grateful for orgasms.

I am grateful for knowing when to stop.

I am grateful for life.

Blessings:

I ask God to bless those I love.

My Daughter

My Parents

My Sister

My Husband

My Step-Daughter

My Goddaughter

Her Godfather

My Sister's New Boyfriend

My Brother in Law

My Sister in Law

My Husband's Parents

My Grandmother

His Grandfather

Our Late Grandparents

My dear Cousins (including the Crew)

His Cousins

My Aunts and Uncles

His Aunts and Uncles

My Friends (both in real life and here, in this wonderful world of blogging)

My Co-Workers (and his)

My Pundit

All who are in poor health, may you recover
All who have recently lost a loved one, may your sorrow be managed through the love of family
All who are in dire straits, may your burdens be lightened by future successes
All who have suffered, may you pains be removed
All who need assistance, may you receive help
All who are closeminded, may your eyes be opened
All who are in dispair, may you have the devine ispiration of hope

Ongoing Adultery?

2011-12-19T16:51:00.002-05:00

Who's feeling naughty?

I've been reveling in the dirty doings of my blogger friends. Those in 'the business', those in 'the lifestyle' and those who are just having really great sex.

I'm at a crossroads at the moment. I love H with all my heart. He's a great man who deserves fidelity. I'm glad I had what I did with DL, but I'd rather end it on my terms than on his. Of course, I'm saying this before I have the chance to see him face to face, and we all know how far my intentions go when we finally meet up after some time. Just put me beside a window and out they go.

I'm still interested in some playtime fun. I never considered DL 'playtime fun'. So where does this leave me? This leaves me with maybe a few trusted playmates whom I can call on to explore some interesting extra curricular activities.

I want to have my head on straight before I make any decisions. I like that I don't regret any of my decisions when it comes to my sex life. I want it to stay that way. So it will take some time to figure out how I want to handle this.

How do I continue playing around while being good to my husband?

Do I want fidelity? Will I be able to face H if I continue to play? Will I really feel he deserves fidelity from me?

As much as I love DL, do I really care about putting any effort into reigniting anything physical between us?

Which decision will make me happy? Which is the most fulfilling outcome?

...do any of you have some weight to throw in on this decision?

Wintry Daze and Christmas Lists

2011-12-07T08:26:00.001-05:00

There was snow outside this morning.

It draped the windows and frosted the rooftops. It was the kind of snow that isn't too heavy that a bundled up walk outside wounds delightful. I would love to go to the malls to see the decorations and get some Christmas shopping done.

I'm still on my path to recovery, so shopping on my own isn't really an option. But I have to get some shopping done this year.

I've never considered dropping DL from my Christmas list until this very moment. I told him about my recent medical events, part of which he knew, but he had no idea as to the dates and timing of it all. I told him by text message and he responded in kind. But we haven't seen each other since May. That's a long time. Would he make the effort to spend some alone time with me? Would he even consider me worthwhile enough to put on his Christmas list? I don't insist upon reciprocation, but there is the notion that I'm a priority. Am I? I am not that presumptuous. He's dropped in my list of priorities, as I'm sure I have for him. Then again, there is the spot in my heart he has, and I have in his. Is that enough to try and schedule a precarious meeting or inconspicuous purchases that we'll both have to hide from our significant others.

I'm not melancholy, I'm loving myself and my family at the moment - and that's what I intended from the get go, when I made the decision that DL and I would have to hold off on our physical relationship. I wish I was fully recovered so I wasn't so dependent on people, so that I could go out and enjoy my Christmas shopping and take a brisk walk down the city streets. I'm progressing, but I've never been the patient kind.

When told of my progress, DL sent "congrats..."

Does he send that message in his own melancholy? Does he send it with hope that we will resume our relationship? Does it put me in his mind when he's out Christmas shopping?

Still Here!

2011-11-24T09:28:00.001-05:00

In the past short while I was away for medical reasons, but not to worry! I'm recovering and will return soon enough with...uh... more posts about how little sex I'm having.

Hope you are all well, and you Yankees are enjoying yourselves some turkey!

Shoulda Known Better

2011-11-11T17:47:00.001-05:00

"I'll call you soon," he says. "We'll talk next week," he says.

Goddamnmutherfucker.

Goddamnmutherfucker

2011-10-31T08:10:00.000-04:00

DL called.

First he email to wish me well for my birthday. I didn't expect any contact, but I kept an eye out for it. I would have responded soon, but I wanted to be sure of what to say. I mean come on, it wasn't a text message or anything. It was an email. Why had our mode of communication devolved? Yes, I know what you're thinking and you're right, I was probably overthinking things.

Then I saw a non-work number on my work cell phone. I answered.

"Who is this?" the person asked.

"You called me," I responded snidely. And then I heard that laugh. Oooooh, that laugh. My heart leapt. "Happy belated Birthday," he wished me.

Repeat post title phrase here.

H was just in the other room. Resurface the danger. Resurface the need to put on my poker face. Damn I'm rusty. I smile at H and go up the stairs. I come back down in a minute and don't lower my voice so as not to come across as suspicious. I just have to measure my words carefully as I speak. Use phrases that could seem mundane. Think, Topaz, think. Be on guard.

He asked how I was doing, that he asked C__ how I was. He hasn't been to my new home and apparently C__ and SH haven't discussed their visits with him, but he assumes our new home is large. He teases me. He asks how I'm celebrating this birthday, but this year of all years, I'm low key and not really doing much.

"Is it safe to message your cell?" I ask, "because you emailed and I wasn't sure if that meant it was off limits." He assures me that it's fine, she still doesn't hold his phone at any time.

"So, how are things going with her?" I ask.

Then the bombshell.

"I'm sick of her," he says. I know he's half joking, but my initial reaction, of all things, is panic. "She's always on my back. She hates me going out. I still go out, you know, Friday, Saturday nights. She gets mad and sits in a corner and sulks. I like things better when I was single. When it was just me and you. You know, I could come see you once a week, you never bothered me that was the best. I want that back."

"Oh come on," I say, "you're exaggerating. You need her," I remind him.

"She's on my case," he says. "She'll get mad, have her fifteen minute temper tantrum, go into the next room and then come back and hug me and says 'I love you' like everything's okay."

"Allow it," I say, "she puts up with you, she's bound to lash out now and again. And it's a little tantrum. It's not like she's behaving badly."

He goes on to tell me that she's living with him now. That her family kicked her out because she's not paying rent. A young girl like her, and he insinuates that they would prefer her to prostitute herself for rent money than not pitch in at all. He hates her family for this. Real lowlifes, he says, and I can hear the tenderness for her still. Yup, he cares for her and this is what alleviates my panic. She's going to move in with her cousin in a couple months, he says, but I don't see this happening. In fact, I don't want this happening. I want her to stay right where she is, with him. And he admits that she takes care of him. I can tell the good outweighs the temper tantrums.

"The poor thing," I say. I mean it, I'm not feeding him lines here. It's horrible to have your family treat you like less than the dog. If anything, she needs him. And I know he likes being wanted. I also know this offsets his craving for my brash attitude. He misses me.

"I still want what we had," he says.

"Had?" I ask. "You make it sound so... in the past," I say.

"Well you're busy now," he admits. It's true. I'm not in any place in my life where I can make the time for a quick jaunt out every week, even if it is for great sex. "You'll be busy for a while."

"That doesn't mean it's 'had'," I say. You just have to be patient."

Patience. Hell, I barely have patience.

The conversation takes a more pedestrian turn, asking about my job, how it was going, and my upcoming plans. Right now he's sick, at work but sick as a dog. I figure work is the safest time for him to call me.

"I just wanted to see how you were doing," he says. "I'll call you soon, he promises."

"It was really nice of you to call," I say. I can't say 'sweet' - remember, I'm guarding my words over the phone - there are ears in the house listening. "Monday I'll be at work, but you can always call then," I let him know.

_______
It's been a little while, but my heart is still racing and I have that naughty feeling even though this was just an innocent telephone conversation. I've been monogamous for this entire year. Will I compromise this? Do I want to return to DL? Do I even have a choice in this matter? I think my crazy desire is going to dictate the rules here. But just a while longer. I'm busy, as he says. And I can delay as much as I want. But am I delaying the inevitable?

Flash Fiction Friday 10-28-11: The Damned

2011-10-28T08:30:00.000-04:00

Molded to the curve of the pillar she waited for the vicar on this treacherous night, the tenebrious seducer of the consecrated, damning their souls before draining them of life. Exquisite; I had chosen well, and the dark gift accentuated the seductive features of her once-mortal skin. Her stockings and unfathomable bodice made her irresistible. She did this for me as much as she did it for herself. She enthralled me nightly. It wasn't the hunt that compelled me, no. After her slow and delicate piercing of their willing vein, after the movement of her throat with each savoured swallow, lost in the ecstasy, she flashed open those shaded lids to pierce me with her predatory gaze.

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

Challenge was to write a flash fiction of 80-120 words

and include the H.P.Lovecraft word "tenebrous" in the piece

Check out Panserbjørne at Insatiabear for links to the other participants!

Pause the Wild Child

2011-10-26T11:14:00.002-04:00

Out every other night drinking, at a party or chilling out with friends, at a bar or at a club, playing pool or everywhere downtown, that was me. I was that chick.

It wasn't that long ago. It wasn't long ago that I didn't give a fuck how late I was out , what set of friends I would end up with for the night or how intoxicated I was when I turned the key in the front door.

Yeah, I was that bitch who would turn her nose up at the trashy chicks trying way too hard with the boys, the one who would shoot down most only to entertain few. I was the one who knew the bouncer and I was the one who they'd whisper "isn't she married?" when they thought I couldn't hear.

I was the one rarely home, the full calendar, the cell phone blowing up, the one who didn't have time for most but who made time for the few. I carried a change of clothes in my car and a bottle of liquor in the trunk. I was the chick who my friends called to find out where the party was. I was the one who was always down for a night out.

So what happened?

Please don't believe me to be so mundane that DL or H tamed the wild out of me. No, I don't believe any man could manage this. I'm simply on pause, my dear. I'm recharging my batteries, making changes in my life to ensure my comfort, my future, to be able to come home and rest my head knowing I have nothing to worry about in the years to come. I'm tending the homestead. We all have to do this at some point if we're going to ensure our future happiness. Without that, happiness tonight means nothing.

I don't plan to party hard and burn out. I plan to party hard for years to come. I'm the vampire who needs that extended rest before the ravaging hunt. I'm the sweet wife with someone's hand up my skirt. But for now, I'm on pause.

As a friend said, 'sex can be a phone call away, but sometimes, all you want is to be alone with a big juicy steak'. You'll all know when I put my dishes in the sink.

Flash Fiction Friday 10-21-11: ...Like A Songbird

2011-10-21T06:30:00.000-04:00

"Put them on," the command echoed in the stark room.

She shook her scarlet hair low, refusing to look into the spotlight.

"Now you find the crescendo of their orgasmic duet caustic? Now you can't stand the proof?"

She refused to be grateful for his indelible recording even though she begged him for corroboration.

"Tell you what, my pretty little songbird. I'm turning on the mic. We're recording. I'll come in just like you begged me to as you stripped for me in the spotlight. I'll fulfill every pained delight. But first, put the headphones on..."

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

Challenge was to write a flash fiction of 38-98 words

and include the phrase "pained delight" in the piece

Check out Panserbjørne at Insatiabear for links to the other participants!

Where Oh Where Has My Little Dog Gone?

2011-10-18T10:08:00.001-04:00

For those who are aware of my story and wondering where things stand, know that you and I are wondering the same thing.

I haven't heard from DL since late July. I know we both had a lot going on in our lives at the time and were far too busy to put each other as any sort of priority. Our last conversation was our last exchange period - no text messages, no running into mutual friends and hearing about each other third person (at least on my end this is true) - which means our last conversation was me telling him he needs to call me now and again because his humour helps me get through those frustrating days.

It was true. I could feel downtrodden and overwhelmed, and somehow, getting him on the phone lifted my spirits. A minute or two conversation was a real pick me up. And I could hear his voice go from tired to bubbly in the same span of time. His response to that last conversation was in the same mirthful spirit. Why wouldn't he call?

So far, neither of us has called the other. Neither has reached out in any way. Is he hurting knowing that I made certain choices to put our relationship on hold? Is he so consumed by the obligations and responsibilities in his own life? Is he so smitten with his new girlfriend that he really does want to try with a clean slate to be a faithful boyfriend?

Honestly, it could be any of the above. Then again, I know inherently we are not over. I mentioned to a blogger-friend of mine that I just need that first moment to observe him as he sees me for the first time after so long to know which of the above it is. I think he's afraid of seeing me now because it's easier to go on with life apart. I know it will be the same with me. It's easier to live my life with him not in it. The moment we reconnect, I'd put the odds on that lust flaming back up on both sides.

Emotions are a beast when unleashed. That being said, I don't want to change anything about my marriage. I want DL to continue his relationship with His Angel. And as much as I want to be angry with him for not contacting me, I don't know how strong I can be when we finally see each other again. I don't know when this will be. But it's inevitable.

This dog won't stray for long.

Flash Fiction Friday 10-14-11: The Exhibit

2011-10-14T06:00:00.000-04:00

"I call this piece Composure," said the skinny man in the black cashmere turtleneck. We all stared at the woman past the frame.

"But she's peaceful, undisturbed, nothing to rattle her," one man piped up, waiving his spectacles as he countered the artist. "She is sublime. Even with those garish streaks and that faded tattoo, she's content. To give this piece such a name would require, I don't know, some juxtaposition."

Some of our group concurred with profuse nodding.

The artist smirked. "Come downstairs," he insisted. "This is the first half of my exhibit. I've fitted one-way glass panels in the floor of all my works. I'll show you what's between her legs."

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

Challenge was to write a flash fiction of 80-112 words

and include the notion of "calm" in the writing

Check out Panserbjørne at Insatiabear for links to the other participants!

Flash Fiction Friday 10-07-11: Perfect Fit

2011-10-07T15:03:00.000-04:00

(Source image by Vlad Gansovsky, title unknown)

"And you didn't spill?"

"I'm telling you, that's how good it was."

"Damn good of them to oblige."

"You're telling me!"

"You sure it's not so stiff that it would become uncomfortable, would it?"

"It felt great. I doubt I'll regret it."

"You sure they didn't go easy because you were there?"

"Trust me, they were way too enthusiastically absorbed. He nailed her pretty good and she was bouncing everywhere."

"And you didn't feel a thing, huh?"

"Nada. As you said, coffee never spilled. Not once."

"Well then, this means you bought it?"

"Of course. They deliver on Monday."

"You can expect my visit. I've seriously got to check out this couch."

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

Challenge was to write a flash fiction of 78-208 words

and use the word "...enthusiastically..."

Check out Panserbjørne at Insatiabear for links to the other participants!

On Bestiality

2011-10-05T17:12:00.002-04:00

A blogger friend wrote this to me today:

"You know what they say, the couple that fucks a horse together stays together..."

Who else but you fine folk can I share a priceless gem like this with?

:D

Turn Offs - #4

2011-10-04T09:15:00.000-04:00

Don't assume I should pass up whatever I had planned just because you happen to be available.

This is a common unisex faux-pas. We're grown people with busy schedules and what is important to me may not be important to you, but I'll be damned if I'm going to let you determine my levels of importance.

Of course I would enjoy time with you, and while I may sometimes rearrange my schedule to make it work, don't set your expectations that I should clear my entire schedule just because you are free. I don't expect the same from you. And don't get bitchy when I can't make it on a day that 'works' for you.

Hell, if it gets to that point, don't expect me to make it on any day, even if it works for me.

Flash Fiction Friday 9-30-11: Teinturerie de Luxe

2011-09-30T15:20:00.000-04:00

(Image this week provided by Lexi, original source unknown...)

I was admiring the silk Dior blouse on the woman beside me when she dropped to the ground like the rest of us. I reached back to steady myself on the motorcycle, but instead got a handful of the owner's leg. He moved my hand higher and rested me back against him until I was seated on his lap. The arm of his fine suit, electric on my skin, I ignored his ring and allowed his hands to wander.

To my right, others were overcome just as we were. There was a glaze in our eyes and our wills lost to our senses. There was nothing lude in our desire, tugged from somewhere beyond the dry cleaning, the word 'luxury' capturing us all, everyone in the street gave in. Everyone except for the owner of 'Teinturerie de Luxe'.

It was him. He caused this somehow. He worked some magic that made my beautiful Dior lady place the foot of her velvety boot on the motorcycle exhaust, opening her legs for the enjoyment of myself and the man behind me,giving us both a great view between the skirts of of the Dior woman.

I wanted to join her on the ground with this man behind me, just as the couple in the middle of the road had abandoned all cares and given in. I wanted to have this man trap me against this motorcycle as the man who dropped his pants had pinned that gorgeous pair of legs against the '69' car.

How did he manage this power over us? One thing was for sure; he would have a lot of business once we were all spent.

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

Challenge was to write a flash fiction of 150-354 words

and use the word "...lost..."

Check out Panserbjørne at Insatiabear for links to the other participants!

Who's Fucking You Tonight...

2011-09-27T11:58:00.000-04:00

Spanning timezones and schedules, my darling bloggers, you are on my mind at random moment, both day and night. Not constant, but like those random thoughts that pop into your head at inappropriate times. In a meeting. Directing a team. An interview. During sex. With family.

Chew on this:

Those of us who write about sex means we're all having it at some time or other.

So at some point, while I was probably busting my ass trying to wrap up a project, a couple of you were engaged with heavy petting in a park and ended with an explosive blow job.

Another one of you, another day, another time, while I was likely chilling with H, left a hotel door open, blindfolded, and anxiously anticipated the man who would guide you into orgasm.

While I was likely walking past the very hotel, two of you met for drinks to finally meet in person.

And when I woke up today, I thought of how you wake up, and what dirty thoughts put that first smile on your face.

At some point during our day, there is a high probability that at least one of the many of us will be fucking (or at least, involved in something sexual, because most of us are blogging about it). And thinking about who, when, how, and what puts a sly little smirk on my face.

So indirectly, you all kinda turn me on ;-)

Venus Butterfly Wings - Once Touched...

2011-09-23T10:55:00.001-04:00

Talk about sexual frustration.

I've hurt my wrist, so manual stimulation is not a viable option for me these days. No worries - the folks at Eden Fantasys sent me over a fix for my urges. You could think any toy could fit the bill, but no, from their range of sex toys is the A-list celebrity of sex toys, the Venus Butterfly. This is a strap on with a wired controller which puts little strain on my poor arms. And while post strap ons were made of materials that are, lets face it, cheap and low on their very helpful safety scale, This rated very high, made of a flexible silicone you would hardly believe is not a jelly. I was thrilled to receive it. I had some long drives ahead of me, and what could make me look forward to a tedious journey more than a private soundproof room in which I would enjoy an unrestricted orgasm? Well, restricted only by my foot on the pedal. After years of front seat highway action I'm sure I've mastered that by now.

But I couldn't wait. And now, with my heightened fetish for porn and a new large screen monitor, I figure I'd take this butterfly for a test drive. The straps are easy enough to figure out; one around the hips and two around the thighs. It takes some adjusting since it doesn't quite hug the sweet spots like you would imagine it should just find and snuggle up to. Even after these efforts it does not hug the way I want it to. No matter. It's trial and error, right? Everyone's bodies are different, and there are styles and models out there that are probably better suited to my body. That being said, I get it into a position that seems best equipped to handle me. This is a wired version, so as I walk around my empty house, I have to tuck the controller into the strap so it doesn't drag around behind me, but it's a short walk before I settle in on the couch with a surprisingly enjoyable video on screen.

Now I never jump right into it - it takes a bit of time and building the sensation, else it's just overly stimulating and I shut down. So I alternate. I turn the dial to the lowest setting for a few moments and turn it back off. It's pleasing. Yes, I'm controlling the pace, but at the flip of a switch. It's almost subconscious. I repeat as the visuals get more interesting and as my body slips more completely into pleasure mode. I increase the vibration in short bursts and press the nose more deeply into my clit for the best possible feeling and soon I have it buzzing away without pause, hands relatively free and less in control of administering these wonderful pulses that send my hips into intermittent shivers. It's building and there is nothing I can do. I can't stop the waves of orgasm I feel surging to a crest and I don't want to. The images on the screen mean nothing now as I close my eyes and embrace the gushing cum that steals my breath and shakes my body. I need a minute to relax and enjoy the sensation. Just revel in the bliss. That's what a good orgasm is for.

So where is this frustration I mentioned? Please don't think my first line was misleading. It was a wonderful experience with this vibe, but it was bound to be my last.

You should always wash your toys after use. It keeps them in good condition and is sanitary, so for heavens sakes people, clean up after yourselves! So I did. But to do this properly, this toy having straps, you unsnap the straps first. A convenient design surely, but here's where the toy fails. The final snap flew apart on me. No kidding. I'm not forceful - after a good orgasm, how is this possible? ;-) - but the snaps broke free of the fabric strap. So I washed the butterfly and attempted to reattach the fasteners, but to no avail. Kids, I needed all three straps to get the butterfly resting snugly against me, let alone the additional work to get its cute little nose buried into the perfect little spot, so one strap busted would leave it hanging to one wing. Again, I would have to resort to holding it in place - not the ideal toy for the long drive as I hoped it would be.

Disappointed? You bet your ass I am. It was a toy that held so much promise, yet shoddy design has always been my argument for investing in your pleasure. Now I've never owned another produce from Cal-exotics, the makers of this strap on who tend to manufacture with the lower grade materials, but their Venus Butterfly being made of thermoplastic rubber, acceptable in my books, it is still a tad pricey for a one time job. They have other offerings that offer more vibrating options (which means you wouldn't have to manually turn the controls on and off) and remote controls, so that you can set the controller down and just enjoy. Or better yet, enjoy discretely. I can just imagine using a strap on vibe in a club sometime. But most of all, these versions seem to have sturdier straps. This is key if you are, lets say the obvious, in public wearing a dress.

All in all, it was an enjoyable experience, though sadly, not to be repeated :(

Turn Offs - #3

2011-09-19T17:36:00.001-04:00

Drama.

Want me because you think I'm hot.
Want me because you crave the thought of fucking me.
Sure, engage me in stimulating conversation and show me affection, I like that. I like knowing I interest you on more than a physical level.
But do not, I repeat, do NOT try to pass judgement on me or get all high and mighty with me. Don't bring me your excuses and expect my empathy. Don't bring me your sob story and bring me down.
That's not what I signed up for.

Ugh.

Porn Desensitization

2011-09-12T17:19:00.002-04:00

Over the past couple weeks I've been inexplicably drawn to online porn.

The more I watch, the more I look for better, more stimulating videos. In the world of every amateur and star alike trying to gain the camera's approval in every kink imaginable, how is it that the minute I click play, I'm searching for another video?

Why is it that the minute the actress looks at the camera, the video immediately becomes blase? When I hear the actress speak, I try to skip that part and hope she doesn't open her mouth again to spew any witty commentary?

Bloggers have tackled the topic of the overabundance of mediocre porn and I'm not trying to rehash that argument - it has been well made several times already. For me, I don't understand my sudden craving for it and my particular aversion to the overacting. I never really had an urge for online porn. I would watch now and again and enjoy it, but there was no real addiction. Now, it seems I have an urge that could lead to an addiction. I'm not sure where this is going. I think maybe I'm trying to relive my group sex moments in what I see in the arena of internet porn. Whatever the case, I figured this is the only place I can document my current kink and my worry that I'm seeing so much porn that eventually none of it will do the job at getting me off.

My Heart

2011-09-06T11:30:00.000-04:00

How has my heart fared in the wake of his Angel's arrival?

A reader asked me that question and I wasn't sure how to answer up until now.

My heart shatters when I hear the joy in his voice that once only I could cause. When he tells me how wonderful she is, when I see their stolen intimate embraces. It sucks the warmth from my vitreous heart, and with a touch, it shatters.

My heart melts to see a happiness in him that I could never bring. To see her so dedicated to him, something I would never be, to share such devotion that I would only give to my husband and knowing it's something that DL deserves. It's a wonderful thing to see your loved ones find companionship and love. Warmth returns at the risk of melting my very soul and I welcome it with open arms.

My heart is chained. It wants to beat on my ribs and pound with a vigour it once was fed. It's conflicts with my soul. It weakens. There is no strength to swim against the current which leads me to my home. There is plenty of nourishment there. Deserving love; give my heart direction.

My heart is still. The fight tamed right out with its thumping. Its fire cooled to glowing embers - still hot, but the wild flames are lost to the winds. Compliant enough without the bindings, now removed, it welcomes the settling mass which accumulates. Encased from the world, it rests, it bides its time. It regenerates under sweet domestic care.

My heart is a gem. Under pressure and out of sight, withstanding the heat and the darkness, it maintains integrity and will not be crushed. Pushing back on the forces pressing in, still moving with the current of the vein until it is ready to greet the day, it sparkles under the sun. It emerges, whole, unbroken, resilient and brilliant.

My heart is my conscience. Both honourable and sinful, it has evolved from glass to flesh, from rock to gem, creating a complexity that I'm still trying to comprehend. It maintains loving comfort while it craves the consuming passion. My heart balances me. It buoys my soul. It exists above and below the current. It can swim and it can soar. It appreciates kindness and satiated by desire.

My heart is content.

Turn Offs - #2

2011-09-02T04:00:00.000-04:00

Don't look at me in a way to suggest your asking permission, or worse yet, don't verbally ask for permission. Seduction is in reading my body and my signs. If you aren't sure the door is open after my signals, be it a gaze or a smile or a wink or me grabbing your cock, then chances are - you don't stand one. You can try, but it will be clear when I shut you down.

Ask, and you'll get a guttural exclamation of disgust and me walking away.

BIG turn off.

Consequences

2011-08-31T10:25:00.001-04:00

The Remorse of Orestes - William Frederic Bouguereau

Actions beget reaction. It's a basic physical law that well translates human interaction. Manners, as basic as a 'thank you' or 'please', have an uplifting effect on some poor downtrodden soul, just as cutting a very happy person off in traffic can ruin their mood for the day. If strangers in our society have the power to so profoundly affect us, imagine the impact of actions from those most intimately connected to us, those who touch our lives multiple times a day?

I have discovered I am less trustful of others than most of you out there. Experience has taught me that, unless emotionally invested, most people behave in a manner to guarantee themselves the most advantageous position possible. There is nothing wrong with this of course. We all want the best for ourselves. This only becomes a problem when one’s actions cause pain to another. Whether the pain is intentional or not, there is no erasing the pain once wrought. If the inflictor is unaware at having caused pain, then ignorance absolves culpability and they escape mildly, being marred only as ill-mannered. If the inflictor is made aware of the painful affects, then their choice is to either take corrective actions to reduce the pain or to not act at all. The former is generally seen as the noble and honourable choice, the latter, cowardly and self-serving. And finally, there is the possibility that the inflictor is fully aware of the pain they bring to their victim.

Willfully inflicting pain on others is diabolical. By definition, willful does not include the residual effects of those acting in their own best interests; an unfortunate situation for those negatively affected, but as the intention is not to inflict pain but to advance one's position, the goal is constructive and the negative effects may or may not be known. Willful includes those emotionally charged actions such as vengeance, which is fraught with emotion and leaves little room for reason. The inflictor becomes the self-appointed judge and executioner whose justification is the colloquialism ‘an eye for an eye’, which makes little sense if the eye being taken rests in the head of a falcon and the eye being avenged be that of a mole. No, the inflictor should have no such rights. Pain for the sake of retribution does nothing to advance the person’s advantages, in fact, depending on the severity of injury or humiliation, it does more to harm than to improve their advantage. There are no material gains to be had, only temporary emotional satisfaction, which in the grand scheme of life is rather fleeting. It then follows that willful infliction of pain is exacted by those in a devolved state where emotional turmoil supersedes reason.

What of vengeance upon those who have willfully inflicted pain? Is there any determination by either party what recompense is fair? Of course there is not. Each will claim the falcon’s eye and expunge their adversary as the lesser affected mole. Each seeks the optimal position - a rational decision which allows them to face each other on even ground. Their intentions towards each other are clear and their reasons understood even though their emotions run high. They are evenly matched in war where the only agreement that need be struck is the destruction (in part or on the whole) of the other. There is a trust and expectation of pain. While this is unfortunate, this as well mars the participants as vengeful, but without the malicious intentions of those who inflict pain on the unsuspecting victim.

What recourse then, if any, exists for the unsuspecting victim? The one who is unaware of the pain they have caused others or the one who has inflicted no pain at all? The first reaction of the unwitting victim is to retaliate; it is in our natures and the very thought of it surges satisfaction through our bodies. It feels good, and we seek out what feels good, yet we understand that vengeance arises from a devolved state of emotion trumping reason. Those who do not succumb and pause long enough for emotions to subside soon recall reason and can once again make clear decisions.

The rational victim returns to their unaffected state and asks themselves what action would give them the most advantageous position possible. What action will afford them the luxury of looking themselves in the mirror after a sound sleep for the rest of their days? Letting go of bitterness in favour of sensible behavior is not easy, but it often is the most rewarding.

Take the case of Orestes upon the repeated stabbing of his mother. Clytemnestra avenges her daughter Iphigenia’s death by murdering her husband Agamemnon and in turn is herself murdered by Orestes. Though the gods urge his vengeance, they cannot help him against the torment of the Furies and he must be judged. He endures many years of trial, sentence, and punishment before he can ever reclaim his father’s kingdom. In some traditions, his wife Hermione is reclaimed by her family after Cytemnestra’s murder. In all cases, Orestes knows no peace for the rest of his life. Were he to take his throne of Mycenae and officially condemn his mother, the advantage may very well have been his. Now this being myth, surely we can echo in no small measure real life accounts of this very story with consequences more dire than ever faced Orestes.

Though my writing is consistently passionate, my actions are not without reason. While I feel strongly about revenge and retribution, I stay my hand more often than not. I realize that while I may judge, my sentence falls only to these lines written on this page and I am neither jury nor executioner. Given my religion I am a believer in Karma. It is not for me to be the inflictor on those who have caused pain to myself or to those whom I love. There is a balance in this world and those improprietous souls have no bearing on my future happiness or well being, while their need to cause pain without reason can only eat away at their soul is only the beginning of their own self-inflicted punishment. Emotions soon cloud all reason and they exist only in that bitter fog. And all of this is their own doing.

Actions have consequences.

Baila

2011-08-29T09:31:00.000-04:00

I wish I was at a party on a nighttime Latin Caribbean beach with lots of liquor and a hype DJ playing Danza Kuduro.

I wish my husband was there and that he pulled me to dance and he was all over me as we both lost ourselves in the dance, each other and the music.

The very thought of it is satiating and brings me incredible bliss.

Flash Fiction Friday 8-26-11: First Date

2011-08-26T08:30:00.001-04:00

(Photo this week provided by Red; originally from http://carmenicadiaz.net)

He caught her discretely peeking at the strip club marquee as they walked by. So, she liked to watch, he chuckled secretively, she just didn't know it yet. He confirmed it when they stopped at his hotel, his back to the glass wall to afford her a view of their reflection. He leaned in and she glanced, faltering under the kiss she promised he would never have.

He slipped his camera into her palm; it was risky, but it was the perfect angle. Her limits pushed during this buttery compliance, she could either join him upstairs, or walk away. "Help show me what my tongue can do..." he whispered...

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

Challenge was to write a flash fiction of 80-110 words

and use the words "...the perfect angle..."

Check out Panserbjørne at Insatiabear for links to the other participants!

House Cleaning

2011-08-23T16:39:00.000-04:00

It is so sad and unfortunate that some great bloggers have closed their blogs - regardless of the reason. Tuesday, Button, the absence (and thankful) return of Ms I, Andy, Confessor X, Southern Girl, and Letch.

The first blog I ever read to get me to share my own story was Insatiable Kate, who has also since stopped blogging.

It's sad that my blogroll needs a cleaning, but I can't hold on, and if they choose to come back and I'm in the dark, please, dear readers, let me know. I'm keeping their links squirreled away in my account just in case I ever get the urge to check back in.

So here's to making way for new and wonderful reading, beautiful HNTs, and more chance of everyone's new posts showing up in my reader in time for me to catch them.

Flash Fiction Friday 8-19-11: Interrogation

2011-08-19T09:21:00.003-04:00

(Image this week provided by Advizor; original source and title unknown)

"I can sit here all day," Nikka taunted, exhaling curls of cigarette smoke. She couldn't help but smile to watch her squirm, caught in her own lies, not even caring to ask for her clothes.

Head in hand, she wished Nikka hadn't ended their play so abruptly. Those perfectly pert nipples should be on her tongue, not brushing the table. She wanted to leap across and take her one last time.

Nikka was waiting for such a move. It was all the excuse she needed to pull the trigger on the shotgun strapped underneath the table.

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

Challenge was to write a flash fiction of 69-99 words

and use the words "...curl of [noun]..."

Check out Panser at Insatiabear links to the other participants!

Humbled

2011-08-16T07:28:00.000-04:00

My mother recently said to me "I'm in awe of your accomplishments."

I almost cried.

Turn Offs - #1

2011-08-09T21:22:00.001-04:00

When you're in the middle of having sex or fooling around and the thought of a family member pops into your head. *shudder* I swear I have to stop everytime. Just thought I'd overshare.

Judging Fallen Angels

2011-08-06T09:16:00.000-04:00

I'm no angel myself. I never claim to be - I wear my personality on my sleeve so others can decide how they want to interact with me. Cuts out the unnecessary drama.

I recently had some online insight to His Angel's personality. It utterly conflicted with how I perceived her in our initial (and only) meeting. Her dowdy attire added volumes to her shy appearance. She wore no makeup, hair not done, and when spoken to, she came across timid. To sum it up, she seemed sweet somewhat innocent. She doted on DL as though he were her lifeline (he eats that shit up from his women). She had already met everyone else (except for me, relatively unimportant compared to his friends and family), so there was no need for her to worry about first appearances especially in a crew where the women all try to outdo each other's clothes, nails, hair and accessories.

Contrastingly, her online persona was bold. Her captions - juvenile and aggressive. Her images - pics praising her own body, her taunting beauty, littered her page aplenty. Dresses you would have to peel off, makeup that was well done and enhanced all the right features, men (boys) lasciviously commenting, these were all things to contradict who she appeared to be in person. And seeing this unnerved me. I'm usually a good judge of character.

I interject here by saying I'm acquainted with one of her cousins. She resembles the online persona (and a far cry from the real-life persona). So while seeing the online persona shocked me I was not surprised. What really got under my skin was that she appears to be more shady than she lets on. She has a conniving streak. While this wouldn't bother me in most cases it bothers me now, because an innocent and trusting girlfriend spells less trouble for me than a sly and conniving one. How so, you ask? Well think about it: our relationship (then and future) depends on secrecy and is not well surved by a snooping and vindictive girlfriend. Not saying she is all these things, but this is the worst case, isn't it? I can't imagine having me or DL slip up enough to have her unravel the threads of what we've woven together over all these years. So I feel justified in my unnerving.

So of all things, I spoke to C__. I told her everything I have written here, save for the previous paragraph. She has since had plenty more interaction with DL's girlfriend (who could someday be her sister-in-law) and echoed my concerns in her initial reaction too. However, the online is the more private and playful side and not latent reality waiting to bubble over once she's 'in', C__ explained. It took some time to figure out, but the shy and quiet girl I met is who she really is. Of course she wants to fit in and get the stamp of approval from DL's friends and family, but she is also naturally caring and sweet, and C__ gave me some examples to drive home the point. Now C__ is more skeptical of people than I am, and she's hated all of DL's girlfriends up until this point, so her opinion is one I value and trust. In fact, C__ will continue to like her with weariness until she does something to be in C__'s bad books. But I found it funny that C__ felt the same way about His Angel that I did. That she didn't ask why I was so interested is why I love her.

So I'm back to being uneasily comfortable. I will keep my caution high. Honestly, the core of me likes her and everything she brings to the table, so my hopes are high that she never betray him and continue to trust him. And if she is as good for him as I hope, then maybe I may soon be ready to give him up physically.

Would our love survive her?

There was a time I would never pose that question. But it's worth his happiness. This chick has more riding on her than she knows.

Bloggers At The Table: Responsible Promiscuity

2011-07-22T07:32:00.002-04:00

I recently sat at the table with three blogger friends, Kimberly, Duchess and a certain male friend we commonly share ;-), and the conversation turned to my dislike of a married friend's girlfriend. With the dynamics at the table, four sex addicts who grant generous leeway with the 4 W's of fucking (who to fuck? where to fuck? what to fuck? who to fuck again? ...or something like that), I was interested in their opinions. More so from the women. Men tend to forgive bloody homicide if a girl can fuck right.

They listened quietly as the story unfolded until it came to the part where the girlfriend wanted some token of his affection since he was unable to dedicate more time to their relationship. Not only did she want it, she felt entitled to it and believed he should have also come to execute this display of affection on his own accord.

'What did she think was going to happen?' was the general consensus about the table. There are extra-curricular activities aplenty amongst us espoused folk, and typically, we set ground rules before we play:

The family comes first. The family ALWAYS comes first. I don't care how much I like you, I may even love you, but there's a reason I married, am still married, and not looking for a divorce. So while I may do many things for you and with you and enjoy you as I do, I will not risk my spouse's suspicions and will not compromise my obligations to my family. If you can get down with that, then I can get down with you.

Now, we may say it laced with a little more sugar, but the message is the same. Now this girl needed the assurance of physical tokens of the man's affections (fail), and on top of that, she had an expectation that he would want to do this as recompense for having a family and keeping her on the side (double fail). Does this sound a little.... 'kept' to you too?

I have no issue with kept-women. Not if the man willingly is fulfilling her desire to be kept and they both understand the arrangement. What I can't stand is a woman who changes her expectations over time. A Woman who hopes to change a man. If I enter into an agreement with a man that we be fuckbuddies and I get emotionally attached I can do one of two things; I can inform him and deal with it, or I can leave.

We are an unusual flock - we who fuck others. We know there is a detachment between our responsibilities and our dalliances. We feel, we love, we revel, we hurt, but we also keep our purpose as a mantra to ensure these affairs do not consume our reason. We seek out partners who want the same from us, who would never compromise us, but are with us because they enjoy us and want to be with us. We jointly toss expectation out of the hotel window (if we could ever get those damn things open) and are simply happy for what we can enjoy for however long we can enjoy it.

We are not weak of heart. We solitarily manage our fears and our hopes and our pain. We appreciate those we love as is and would never hope to mold them. We love them because we cannot mold them. The effects of molding cascade throughout the person and they become a wholly different creature. Why would you change the very things you treasure?

Those who mold do not love. Those who require assurances are in themselves unsure. Those with expectations repel the true joy of receiving affection without reciprocation.

We take charge of our promiscuity and our lives are all the richer for it.

HNT: Silk Wrist

2011-07-14T06:50:00.003-04:00

I wrote a poem entitled 'Muscle Memory' on TalkSin which inspired this HNT.

Happy HNT y'all! Check out Osbasso to see who else is playing.

Sharp Words

2011-07-12T07:10:00.001-04:00

Text Message Exchange:

Topaz: Is this a bad time to call?

DL: Yeah

Topaz: K, call anytime today or tomorrow - I'm home.

____________________________

In itself, innocuous. Knowing it is only a bad time because she is with him sharpens the blade.

I have no desire to hound him down - he's not free and he let me know. He's simply not available to talk as he once was. We both knew this would happen when she's around so I'm not taken by surprise. But this also lessens his inclination to make me feel better. I hear the zing of the metal dragged across the whetting stone.

Don't get me wrong - I'm not sad because he's with her, I'm sad because I need him on the other end of that phone for just a few minutes to cheer me up.

When he's on the other end of the line, he always cheers me up.

It's only a matter of time before the edge is perfectly honed...

Sex Toy Fail

2011-07-07T09:00:00.002-04:00

...not when your husband uses the last Triple A's for his Xbox controller and forgets to buy more...

ARGH! That's when you improvise, throw your toys aside, and go manual.

Be sure he got an earful.

.

Strong Wife: Explained

2011-07-05T15:27:00.000-04:00

My last post requires some clarification.

What is strong about a spouse is that we put up with all these things (and more) in the list.

I would never use any reason on this list as an excuse for cheating. Then I would not be the 'strong' wife. I'd be the weak wife.

In fact, this is just a comical list of difficulties. If I wrote a list of joys I would not be able to restrict it to ten items. In fact, I'm far from under appreciated - but that's another post in itself.

I loved all these comments! You've all lightened my mood - we all face these marital glitches. My commenters get it. If it sent me flying into another man's lap, well, maybe this marriage wouldn't be for me. But the truth of it is that I wouldn't want any other partner to travel by my side through this life.

Am I considering a new relationship? Am I so annoyed with my marriage that I'm looking for an out? Hell no!

DL and I are on a mutually agreed hiatus, my playmates are on hold for a little bit, but if and when I return, it will be because I want to. Because I want what they can offer me. Because I enjoy their company and their skills. Never because I was driven from my husband, but because I was drawn to my lover.

And in my mind, that's the only reason good enough for cheating. If you're unhappy in your marriage, the only solution is the bonus line of my last post: say "I don't".

Remember: cheating never saves an unhappy marriage.

The Strong Wife

2011-07-04T08:32:00.002-04:00

I know you had a rough day. So did I. But unlike you, I'm not going to sulk about it and ruin the mood.
I never gave you the green light to take it out on me verbally when other people frustrate you.
I demanded respect before we were married - a ring doesn't change that.
I will be your cushion when you're stretched thin and juggling too many things at once, even if you can't afford to do the same for me. Just don't ever take it for granted and always expect my empathy - I can't do it every day.
If you want sex, turn me on. Wagging your cock around while you sit on the couch isn't foreplay. Especially after I spent an hour getting your dinner ready while you watch TV.
You don't put any expectations on your ex, never show your exasperation, AND you regularly give her money. From my point of view, it's not an unattractive deal.
Yes, sometimes I am too tired to care.
No, I am not a mind reader.
I'm so proud that you cleaned the tub! Let me pause my vacuuming/sweeping/polishing-tables/dusting/cleaning-mirrors/moping-kitchen so I can applaud.
YOU chose the shortcut, so excuse me while I ignore your cursing, but while I'm in the car please tone down your aggressive driving. I still enjoy my life.

BONUS:

Never forget: I can always say 'I don't'.

Enjoying Voyeurism

2011-06-28T18:00:00.003-04:00

I was getting ready for my shower while my husband stops in at the store across the street, when walking past the bedroom window I looked down at the parking lot to check if his car had pulled up. I have no worries that anyone can see my naked body; I'm too far up and concealed by the blinds. I know. I've tried to look up before. But I have a great survey of the parking lot. And though my husband's car is not yet there, I see a parked car whose occupants believe they are well concealed by the fence they're facing, unknowingly providing a direct window to the action.

I did a double take and stopped. The flash of flesh caught my eye. From this high up it was unlikely, but there it was, so clear against the dark cars. Facing me she sat behind the wheel and with one hand had unzipped his pants as he spread his legs in the passenger seat.

I paused. Though they were far below I knew what was going on. Just a peek? A clearer view, just to see how well endowed he is? That isn't so bad, is it? We have binoculars in the next room. If I stay close to the floor, nobody can see me. Yes, just a quick peek, just to see if the man is worth it.

As I retrieve the binoculars, I see the NaughtiBod I just received in the mail from EdenFantasys. I had already taken it out of the cute pink sleeve, but hadn't tried it out yet - there was never the time or opportunity, but seeing it there put a smile on my face, especially since I had my iPod handy. "Let me bring it over, just in case," I think to myself.

I hadn't been gone long and it seemed as though she was just getting started. Her hand disappeared at the open zipper. So she was trying to be discrete. Hmm. Maybe there was nothing to see here. I've given hand jobs while trying to be discrete, I'm sure she could finish him off this way, especially if she realized the potential wall of people who could be looking at their crotches through their front windshield.

What do they look like, these two in the car? He reaches under her shirt to fondle her breasts. I can't really see their faces. Let me use the binoculars, just to be sure. But their identities are protected by the roof, the top of the windshield revealing only their chins and everything below.

The pants become to restrictive and she gently maneuvers to have him come out to play. He shifts and helps adjust the clothes to assist her. Hello! There you are. She could have stacked her two hands around him. Just looking at him would have been satisfying, but he needed some coaxing to come to full attention. It made you want to see how hard he could get, and the thought of a rigid cock was enough to set my muscles into a quick clench inside. I knew my toy would come in handy! What a perfect way to try it out. I had already hooked it up to my iPod and the show needed some background music, and concealed with my own live porn, legs splayed on the floor staring down from the full length window, it just felt so right.

The vibrator is not thick, but it’s designed perfectly for the vibrations timed to the music. It’s the rhythm and the speed that gets you. They were probably listening to music in the car below. What were they listening to? I imagined it was similar to what I was listening to. But I was already far into enjoying myself. I always wondered how the vibrations to the music would feel, if they were any better than pulsed or steady stimulation, but it’s like the building of the beat makes you want to dance, the beat driven vibes were a whole new experience. With the vibe balanced against the ground, I steadied it and slid down the shaft as her hand touched the base. Ah! It felt so good…

But she wasn’t helping any. She fumbled clumsily. Something else preoccupied her away from that beautiful cock in her hands. It made you want to go down there and take over for her. Show her how it’s done. He just couldn’t get hard with such inattention. I'd like to teach her. Make her see how to make a man putty in your fingers. Show her how to build his orgasm and enjoy how he throws his head back. She would watch attentively as I made him nice and hard and ready for her to taste. Would she? Would she lower her head to spread her wet lips over his head as I guided him into her mouth?

Oh, the thought of him being so pleasured sent thrills off the beat and were only heightened by the onslaught of the bass vibrations inside me. Whatever distracted her subsided, and she turned to him, leaned in, and her pace slow, she ran up the length of the shaft. Faster, she continued, he was soon hard in all his glorious length, and though cars pulled in not too far away, she did not stop. She kept her arm movements low, but this was perfect for any viewers from above. I didn’t care about either of them anymore. The visual of him guiding her motion was enough as the song hit the hook and the vibe hit just the right moments to pitch my body into an excruciating orgasm. I could feel my juices flowing over the silky skin and my muscles clenching off the rhythm.

What a great pre-shower entertainment! And if I didn’t grab this uniquely musical sex toy, I may have just passed off this view with a glance. Hmmm, maybe I’ll think about getting a wireless model. Think of all the trouble I can get myself into with that!

Moments of Mini-New-York

2011-05-31T06:50:00.000-04:00

Photo: Dave Kliman

I messaged DL over a week ago and hadn't heard back from him yet. Was he hurting because of the news I shared over the phone? I don't know. But remember; when I got married, he ran off to New York for the week.

It turns out he was in New York. His phone off, he replied immediately upon returning to the city. And yet, he was in New York. Was he taking the space to forget me again?

His text messages seemed light and playful, and soon we were on the phone together having a conversation about our Goddaughter (SR)'s birthday this upcoming weekend. As Godparents, we playfully compete for gift ideas, and every year we have a playful argument. He loves to outshine me. It seemed we were both keeping things tame this year, but that didn't stop him from teasing me about getting her a laptop. Anything to rile me up! That was our last conversation before the birthday BBQ. And when the day arrived, I knew he would be there before me, accompanied by his new girlfriend.

I stepped out of my car, SD carried the presents and C__ came to the car to give me a hand with the food I brought. When I said my hellos and sent SD off to go find the birthday girl so they could play (or whatever it is these kids do nowadays) I had my hellos with DL. He introduced me to his girlfriend, to whom I gave a friendly hug and a smile, telling her how nice it was to meet her. He blurted out 'I got SR a laptop,' solely for my reaction, of course, but he didn't count on C__ overhearing him, getting upset with both of us. It was rather funny watching him squirm in denial. He explained our yearly fights to his girlfriend, her reaction mild, but appreciative and hanging on his every word. When I got her alone, I asked her about her job, what she did, in what area of the city she lived, smalltalk, but either she didn't seem to know how to make any or she didn't care. In my opinion, she simply didn't know how to carry a conversation.

She was not what I expected, this 'Angel' of his. I assumed, knowing his type, she would be all T&A but slim, fair skin, tiny, and stylish. I was not expecting the long loose jeans, the tims, the shape voluptuous but not quite firmed up lady lumps, and the mousy, quiet and shy attitude. How could you not like this girl? I thought I might be intimidated, or that she would remind me of the number of years I had over her, but I felt nothing of the sort. She was submissive and sweet. She was as I had always wanted for him - she was exactly what he needed. And I liked her for him.

There were times DL and I found ourselves alone enough to speak without any nearby ears. And surprisingly, no one was watching us. He asked what I thought, and the first thing that came out of my mouth was "she's very quiet." Really? That's the best I could do? He understands that I was trying to ingratiate myself, and he agreed. I did follow up telling him that she seemed very sweet, and he seems very fond of her, and that it was nice to see him that happy, when in fact, it was also breaking my heart.

I asked if he was okay after the news and he admitted that it crushed him at first. It took him a while to get over. But he acknowledged that I had prepared him for it for a few months, knowing that we would have to put our physical relationship on hold for a while, that my emotions would never fade, but it was a reality we would both have to embrace. Emotionally shook with that phone call, he had since mellowed because he knew he could not provide everything I needed. Just as I couldn't provide everything he needed. What he found in his Angel, I found elsewhere, and our timing just happened to coincide without either of us realizing what the other was going through. And as I insisted, he should take the time to give her an honest chance without me cluttering his mind and his time.

I wanted him to understand that sharing the news wasn't something I wanted to do over the phone. I didn't want it like that. I tried to meet him in person, but with our schedules, I had little choice. He had to know before this BBQ. Again, he was upset at first but soon realized it was for the best. 'For the best' - as he said these words, the look in his eyes broke my heart. It was for the best, because I would have broken down in tears to be confronted with tenfold the sorrow if we had that dreaded conversation in person. Neither of us would be able to recover without great difficulty. Sometimes it's merciful to avoid the look in your lover's face. It was our mini-New-York. It was the easiest way to begin healing.

"When you're ready, we can play again?" he asked with a smirk. Ah, that's it. He wouldn't be my man if he couldn't match my lecherous cravings. We still fall all over the thought what we do to each other. And in the end, isn't that lust the honey which makes life worth all those mini-New-Yorks?

She is His Angel

2011-05-11T08:18:00.000-04:00

He has pep in his voice when he tells me about her. He has a bashfulness when he describes her meeting his family. She makes him happy. She is compliant. She mellows him out.

I was never compliant. I never will be. I excite him. He admits I am the only person in his life who does not bend to his will. For this, he admires me.

Apprehension robed his snippets of her. He wants to tell me without hurting me. I encourage his words. I hold emotion at bay. When he tells me how he feels about her, and his caution to see how they progress beyond the honeymoon phase, I tell him how happy I am that she is in his life, which I am, and frost the whole with admittance of my sorrow. Without sorrow, all my words ring false, as a cocoon, to protect my heart. Why not share my emotions? He teases me that I am heartbroken because I want him for myself, and we laugh. 'We could never have each other to ourselves,' I respond. We both agree. This could never happen.

He has not yet slept with her. In a weird way, I hope he does soon. I want it over with to see if this changes how he feels. It could go either way. He could continue liking her at a moderate pace or toss her aside. I believe (and hope) it is the former.

Our Goddaughter's Birthday will be coming up. I may meet her there. I asked him if he is worried for that meeting, but that's not even a consideration. He knows me enough to know I would handle her with compassion. That I would want her on my good side. Oh, he does know me well. I do. I want to make sure she has his best interest at heart. That is all I care about with her. Everyone will be watching that moment. I will be prepared to handle all eyes with grace, without a crack of emotion. I have started to ready myself for this.

I asked of him one thing only; he must make her understand that I am his dear friend. That she has nothing to fear from me and must accept me in his life if she is to continue with him. I would never give an outward sign otherwise. I would respect their relationship as he has respected mine. And privately, I insist he take his space from me (as we have for the past few months) so that he allow an honest growth of emotions and feelings for this new, young girlfriend of his.

Readers have commented with the question, "How would I feel when he does have someone else?" and right now, I can honestly say, "I feel content." She makes him happy in a way I never could. And all I have ever wanted for him was happiness.

The Day Has Come...

2011-05-03T13:58:00.001-04:00

DL and I haven't been speaking as often as we used to. Part of it is because I have much of my time occupied with other matters (it's temporal, and I'm fine, in case you were wondering), so our banter is delayed and few between. This is fine, I know it will pick up.

A couple weeks ago he attended his friend's engagement party. I knew about it and teased him about taking a girlfriend, but he went single. So as we chatted on the phone today, he tested the waters asking me about a hypothetical situation - what do I think about age differences in relationships. I called his bluff with a loud laugh.

So he is seeing someone.

Not quite, he says. A girl approached him at the party and asked for his number. But she is approximately 15 years his junior. He has not seen her in person - they've exchanged some messages back and forth. 'You don't have time for me!' he punctuates his explanation.

'Her age is less important than where her head is at,' I say, but he is way ahead of me, explaining to her that she has a lot of growing up to do and will probably grow out of him. She, of course, doubts this. He has an affinity towards her because they come from similar families and similar situations. But his friends urge him to leave such a young girl alone.

'You have never been one to care about what anybody else thinks. If she makes you happy, then I am happy for you. If she is good for you, and will support you, I will be happy for you. But so help me God if you change your ways and settle into a family man for her...'

'Are you mad?' he cuts me off, 'I would never do that for anyone. If she doesn't like me the way I am, she can hit the road.

'If things progress, does that spell the end for us?' I ask.

'Never,' he says.

Isn't it odd that I feel closer to him than I ever have before?

What Puts a Smile On My Face

2011-04-18T12:53:00.001-04:00

The Cop and I exchanged a few text messages the other day. He found his mind drifting back to that night and settling on the most delicious bits (if you don't know what the hell I'm talking about, check out the label below). He was curious to know if I thought about it too. How could I not? How do you forget a night like that, with so many bodies and a number of firsts?

Would we want to do it again? We both agreed we would. Not because we didn't get our fill. Not because we want to recreate the evening. These reasons would be our folly and lead to nothing but disappointment. You cannot replicate. Each factor creates a unique situation. What you can do is set the stage with similar factors and allow for an altogether new and unique experience. There may be many more things I was never able to do the first time be offered to me the second time around. Would we want to do this again? Damn straight.

Are we in a hurry? You can't hurry something like this. If we were to do it, we would need to find another woman who would be interested, who would be a great fit for all of us, and can maintain discretion. We would have to set a location, and find time where we are all free. Would we solicit these things? No. It would have to develop out of us, the players in this multiplayer romp, and what we are willing to make happen.

But I tell you what, until it does, every time a glimpse of that night rushes through my mind, I can't help a mischievous smile lingering on my face. It will probably happen regardless of any subsequent events that ever come my way (pun intended).

Exercise - A Great Pre-Romp Warmup

2011-04-12T13:24:00.000-04:00

I don't really discuss toys much. I use them, but for some reason, they haven't features prominantly in my posts. Well I wanted to change that. Some products can make a big impact in your libido and are worth talking about. Especially when they heighten the very act of sex itself.

Most of you know what smartballs are and how they work, but for those who don't, they are small silicone balls with a loop that allows for easy removal. The Teneo Uno is a singular version of Toy Factory's Smartballs. That is, it's 'one' ball, and it fits comfortably and almost too discretely inside. It comes with a lubricant, which is nice, but most times I can insert it without any aid.

This one is baby pink on pink

The wonderful benefit of this little thing is that it really does behave as any other Kegal exercisers. My husband unwittingly has provided proof - I tend to have more control over my muscles if I've worn the Teneo that day. He clearly cannot control himself without some serious effort. The ability to grip his cock on queue requires simply the desire to do so. I can hold that grip for much longer than usual. It drives him absolutely nuts.

The great thing the Teneo has going for it is that it is less obvious to the wearer. There are times where you don't want to know you are wearing anything (large family dinner? uh, no stimulation, thank you), and in those times, you can work at strengthening your muscles for a crazy romp later on. Just remember to remove it ;-)

On the days I wore them, I kept them in for a minimum of three hours. Honestly, there were moments I forgot I had it in! It fits very confortably. The internal weighted ball (yes, it's inside the casing) have less momentous rolling compared to the regular smartballs, which is great for the discrete minded, though my tastes tend to the more rigourous - I thing more heavily weighted balls would be more pleasurable.

Personally, I am very concerned with the safety of the items I use, whether they are attached to a man or not. Silicone is one of the safest materials. As long as you wash any toys between use, you can't go wrong with a brand like Toy Factory. Their products tend to be very safe. Stores, like the ever popular EdenFantasy's will provide these Adult Toys and capture the 'Material Safety' information.

All in all it's a great little helper. I tend to wear it a couple times a week. If there is anything that can help me do my Kegals while I go about my day, and I get rewarded with the fruits of it's efforts, then how could I go wrong?

Playing Wifey

2011-04-07T14:45:00.000-04:00

I helped him return a defunct product that never worked from day one, but he waited two months before even taking it out of the package, and that store is notorious for 'store-credit-only' - what better way to get a return/refund than to have your frustrated better half there with you? Oh, this was going to be fun. I could get angry with him in public as he tried to keep a straight face. We both had a hard time not cracking up as I looked at the cashier and complained, "he ALWAYS does this!" and look at him and say "I told you not to buy those here!" and tell the clerk "No, if the first one didn't work, why would I want to waste my time trying another one? He wasn't even supposed to buy this one!" It didn't help that he was smiling as he said "you don't have to get so mad at me," and even "if you keep this up I'm going to go see my girlfriend! Oh, you like that one!" in front of the cashier. I couldn't keep the laughter in after that.

Feeling like we accomplished something upon leaving the store, I asked if he wanted to go grab a bite to eat - this is when all the phone call mis-dialing happened.

We went back to my place, and I like that there was no pressure to do anything. And we didn't, not really. I mean we fooled around a little. But no hardcore, all out sex. We just enjoyed each others time.

Similar hairstyle to what I was sporting the other night.

But when he left, he gave me a longing once over. "You look like Beyonce, with your hair like that..." he says. Oh flattery will get you everywhere...

And yes - I did my hair just for him.

HNT: Love Chain

2011-03-16T21:45:00.002-04:00

My baby's got a lot of dollars swingin from his neck.
His chain is iconic. It's recognizable. His signature piece. It never leaves his neck.

Unless it's on his woman's.

I wore it in public once. Boy did the whispering fly.

But he likes this view better.

(the light came off my left shoulder like an angel wing, I kinda liked it...)

A chain of love to ring in the new year.
HHNT y'all!
Check out Osbasso to see who else is playing.

Please Leave Your Adulterous Message After The Beep...

2011-03-09T16:29:00.005-05:00

He left work early to meet me this past Friday afternoon. We haven't seen each other face to face since mid-December. And as always, all doubt cycloned down the drain once he stepped through the door. We didn't jump each other. Instead, we sat down and caught up, and the conversation soon turned back to our discussion of a family.

"Do you want me to be the father?" he asked.

"No, of course not. We already talked about this. You've already said you don't want to, and I don't want to make you a father. H wants to be, and I want him to as well. We want a family. That's not going to change how I feel about you."

He teases me about how sure I am, because we could go right now...? Of course, this leads to some flirty play fighting.

"You don't have time for me," he says when we calm down.

"You don't have time either. I don't even know what your work schedule is. You don't tell me what's going on in your life. Why wouldn't I think you have a woman in your life?"

"I don't have time for that nonsense. And you know my schedule. If I'm not sleeping, I'm at work. If I'm not at work, I'm at the bar," he laughs.

"Never let anything ever make you doubt my feelings for you. You understand that?"

He does. And I do. But it's hard to hold onto when you can't see the truth in their face. We know life changes around us. We also know that life wont change the core of what we are.

We stepped out for a bit and as he drove us back to my place and I asked him if he felt like grabbing a bite to eat, I noticed my phone was on. "Oh shit!" was the last thing I said before hanging up. I checked the number - my sister. Try imagining feeling simultaneous relief and panic. Sure, she is my sister, I'm glad it was her and not H, but then again, it was my sister, I don't know the extent and clarity of what she has heard.

"Don't worry. She probably didn't hear anything."

I immediately get a phone call.

"You called?" she asks. I explain my phone purse dialed her and I apologized. Yes, I do lock my phone. Yes, I realize this isn't the first time. No, it's not important, you can erase the message." This, of course, is an open invitation for her to listen to the message after she hangs up.

We have enough time to get home before my phone rings again.

"OMG, Who are you with? What if your phone called H?" she asks, "And whoever you were with, that doesn't sound like SRS!" It's the only guy I could think of quickly whom I could say I was with without generating suspicion. "This voice is deeper." So she did hear his voice. What did we say? I dare not ask. But I told mom I was going out to run an errand, since they had called earlier. I even hear my mother in the background, saying "you need to be careful with that phone!" Sigh. Bless'em. They aren't even saying cease-and-desist, just that I should be more discrete.

DL is sitting beside me, a big grin on his face, but not as big as mine. I have a hard time lying blatantly.I wrap up by saying I told them I was running out on an errand, and really, it wasn't a lie. It's just that they didn't know I'd be bringing anyone back home with me.

What did I say? What did he say? We were happy, laughing, is it possible it could have given me away? Did we joke around about children? A family? Sex? Which would be worse?

...has my phone dialed anyone else on it's own?

He Will Still Love Me Tomorrow

2011-03-05T10:14:00.002-05:00

I haven't written a lot about DL in the past while, not until my last post. Why is that? I know I was trying to put him out of my mind. I wouldn't say I was hurting - he won't and can't leave my life. I know he cares, but the extent which I feel this has always flip-flopped. I recently considered that he might have another chick in his bed. Did this upset me? No, not really. The thought has always made me happy. Happy that someone could make him happy in a way I couldn't. Was I jealous? Not really. Was I sad? Of course. I would love for him to see me as that woman. But it could never happen.

Other reasons bolster my resolve to detach my emotional ties to him. My marriage, my family, my future. The last time he paid a visit we chatted about our future. A family. Did he want this with me? No, of course not. But I knew that all along. I was relieved that he hadn't changed his mind. I want these things, but I want it with my husband. I've known this all along. And how does DL feel about all of this?

He will wait. Regardless of what happens with our lives, he is not willing to settle down with anyone now. 'Maybe in 10 years', he says, and you must understand, he is not exaggerating. He has no desire to settle down, have a family, to change his life. He is happy with life the way it is. And when he says ten years, he does mean that, if we are still in each others' lives, he will come seeking me for his fulfillment. It may be me, it may be someone else. If someone else, then he will want to continue what we have now, only he will also be married.

The point is, regardless of where I find myself in ten years with my family, the number of children, my figure, my beauty, my needs, he has no qualms about feeling just as strongly about me. I've put on a couple pounds since we started dating (nothing ridiculous, but still, at my height, even one pound shows) and I one day exclaimed "I can't believe you're still attracted to me as you were at first!", and her replied, "do you really think I'm that shallow?" Actually, I did. I figured, dog he is, that my appeal would soon fade as my novelty wore off. But no - he's still taken with me. He still loves my body. "You're not fat, and even if you did get fat, I couldn't cut you out of my life." Sure, that doesn't mean he would be drooling over me and cause envy when other men try to chat me up in front of him. And he knows I like that I turn heads ;-) but it does show me that what we have will surpass many changes in our lives. And I hate this, because it makes him even more endearing to me.

How to procede? Carry on with life. Enjoy my friends, my family, my men. But how in the world do I keep my feelings for him in check? How to keep from hurting him? Why do I even feel that is my role? Why do I even think he needs this from me?

Le sigh.

DL's Redemption

2011-03-02T23:22:00.000-05:00

Damn we are a stubborn pair.
I've never met anyone with a will to match my own.

Countless rendezvous plans broken. The intent is there, but the followthrough killed by volleying the weight between our hearts. Who cares more? Who will break plans? Who will wait in the room for the other to arrive? When the risk of being the one who throws their heart without the other to catch it, we opt for the selfish route of safety.

Does he love me anymore?

I've asked myself that several times without having the answers. I know he avoids a meeting as I have. It's easier to detach one's self when the creature you desire is out of sight. When their voice is only caught in the text written on that little screen of your handheld. Closing the door is easier. It negates the temptation to open it once more. But it was never closed, my darling; it was and always will be ajar.

It has gotten to the point where our conversations of shacking up for orgasmic sweaty sessions are flirting via text (I hate the term 'sext', btw). It suits us fine as we've never put any expectations on each other. Every time he plans to meet me, to pick me up, I always make other plans, because I know it's bound to fall through. He claims I have no time for him, and I reciprocate with the same slur over the net to him.

But oh, today was different.

He wants to meet me. He's got the time and the place. Time off work. One of our old spots. Excuses are handled. Messages that ring with an ernest brashness and willfulness that dares each other to be more than we ever could have been to anyone else. To set the bar to unrealistic expectations that either one of us could easily fulfill for the other.

"Why do you want to see me so bad?" I write. "I miss that ass," he replies. Wrong answer, I imply over and over again until he writes that he l... He leaves it hanging. He makes a cute joke about his ghetto-ness being the cause of the illiteracy which keeps him from writing the word.

"Love."

It's hard when you miss someone so badly you want to see them but don't want to risk the relapse on that drug. That drug. So deep I had to just call to hear his voice. Hear it in him that he has a need for more than fucking me. So I called. No answer. He's at work. But after I hang up, there is a text message, twice, one upon the heals of the next, asking me to call back. Before I can respond, he calls my home. And for the first time in weeks, I hear his voice.

What is it about the voice of a lover? The way they speak each word. The aloofness. The intense desire. From all angles, it's captivating, isn't it? It was this tiny little hit of him that surged the stupid-happy through my veins. And I heard it in him. That undercurrent of a longing moan that just hangs on the tip of a word. So fleeting that others would never catch it. But a lover knows. our ears are tuned to the pitch of their urges.

Dammit. If he didn't miss me back, maybe I could get over him. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

But I can't.

I crave him.

Ball's in his court.

The drug is in my heart.

Vybe Killer

2011-02-21T20:15:00.000-05:00

Don't you ever feel there are certain atmospheres and people who can be such a buzzkill that they take the horny right out of you and leave the aftertaste long after you have removed yourself from them?

I hate that. I feel that now.

But olschool R&B (City High, Aaliyah, Blackstreet, R Kelly) is my current medicine.

__________

Still out of town, but will come back with a real post soon. just wanted to let y'all know how I felt. Maybe some dirty birds can get my vybe back.

ps - OOOOH! LL Cool J's "6 Minutes" just started on my ipod. What a great 'groove-back' playlist I made (...whaddya want, a biscuit?)! That one's for those who know...

Catch Up, Anyone?

2011-02-04T12:25:00.000-05:00

Well my dears, I am not going to be accessible for the next week, so those who comment and other fellow bloggers, I will be catching up with you upon my return. For my lurkers, who far outnumber my commenters (I did a quick calculation - on average, 1% of my readers comment), you can enjoy some reading fodder while I am gone. I tend to take week long breaks between posts these days, but hell, there are some posts I love, go back to on a regular basis, so maybe you will enjoy them as well.

The Ecstasy
My take on the unique rarity of an orgasm.

The Beginning of My Affair With DL
My series on how DL and I began this tryst. See the links in the left column, lower half.

Shields Up!
Some of us let our emotions rule our actions. And then there is DL and I. Words can strengthen the following silence. Read on to understand the undercurrent of our ongoing, fucked up relationship.

Control
Whenever I start to lose it, I return back and read this post. It shows my strength. My pragmatism. It helps me sleep through the night. Like warm milk, only more.... wordy.

Narcissistic Epiphany: the truth about me & DL
I think the title sums this one up nicely. This post still holds true, except these days, my marriage is just peachy.

DL Grows A Conscience
A reality check for me with my relationship with DL. This may very well be where we are right now, but with a different root cause.

Reader's Pick: 'The Orgy Play by Play' Series

A dear reader selected my 'Multiplayer' series. The evening really begins with this post. Please select 'Multiplayer' label from the list below, or see the series in the left column, lower half.

The Sex Club - I Kissed A Girl...

2011-02-01T12:03:00.000-05:00


I had to go for the chintzy pop metaphore.

Yes. Her lips were delicious. I could kiss her for days. But how did I end up half naked on this bed with this lovely woman beneath me, both of us a little lust-drunk?

We walked into the room filled with beds; some occupied, some not. four of us climbed up onto the nearest available bed - 4 - being Kimberly, The Duchess, myself, and Kimberly's Expert Guide. Skippy stood at the edge of the bed where the Duchess and I perched our legs. Yes, he had a lovely view. But I found him taking liberties with how familiar he thought he could be. I'm not speaking for anyone else, but as far as I was concerned, the boy needed to be put in his place. One hand slid up her leg, the other, up mine. Oh Skippy, you underestimate me. Just because I'm laying naked on a bed in a sex club, doesn't mean you're gonna fuck me. He got as high as just above me knee. Thats when I clamped down.

I have, uhm, what have been called, 'the thighs of (007's Villainess) Onatopp'. No, I had no intentions of sexy this time. This was to show him who was boss. I heard a whimper and saw his fingers splay under my iron grip. Oh he tried to take his hand back, but I wouldn't budge. Not until I saw the desperation in his eyes. I didn't want to cause a scene, just for him to know that there were limits. And he was just on the brink of crossing his.

With a smile, he let go. He continued trying, more with Duchess than with me. But mid conversation, he did, in fact, pause to high five the man on the bed beside us as he drilled into a woman who was on all fours. Haha! Skippy. If you can't join'em.... congratulate'em? Er... anyways, he wandered off, Kimberly was busy with the Expert Guide, who, I must add, handled Skippy with more grace than was required, and added to his appeal.

Duchess and I returned outside. I did not chastise her! But I wanted her to enjoy herself. Personally, I had no intention to fuck anybody, though I was interested in the venue and wasn't above fooling around a little bit. It just would have taken the right persuasion. And no, the Skippy-stroking wasn't doing it for me. But Duchess had her eye on a man as we walked back through the corridor, and as we sipped on another drink, we chatted about him. And I wasn't about to let her leave and passing up this chance. If you've been reading me for any amount of time, you know I hate the regret of a life unfulfilled. Sure, she could come back, but who's to say this situation would so perfectly present itself?

We finished our drink and returned to the back room. Now, Duchess has covered the security issue with Skippy, and I'm glad the staff keep an eye out for that sort of thing, but who was with this football linebacker? That's what he seemed to be. And he seemed to be alone. Watching.

We walked over. I wish we could have walked away, but it was too late. It was clear we were there to see him. Kimberly, that little vixen, was still busy. We walked to the back of the room which was in clear view if she so chose to raise her head. Duchess climbed in first to his left, and I to his right, closest to the edge. There was something that was off about him. His accent. His misleading looks (I hate to say it, but you know that line, good from far..?), nisleading physique, and though there was a chill enough that made it comfortable once you turned the heat up with your partner, he was still sweaty! But to top it off, his cock was disproportionate to his size. There! I said it! I'm not a size-nazi, I don't believe every cock needs to be 7+ inches, but I do believe that the sight of it, the feel of it, the movement of it should be enough to turn me on. Not flop about like a half filled water balloon. The whole package just wasn't for me. Besides, there was a gorgeous woman who probably felt the same way I did laying to his left. And I didn't think he'd interrupt me if I stopped paying him attention.

I crawled over his legs and between hers until the length of her body was beneath mine. He was content to watch. Some other eyes from other couples glanced over briefly. And I caught her eyes, both of us aware of what I was going to do, and seeing that she wanted it as well, I slowly dipped my head, and her lips, her tongue, it was all soft, yet firm, perfectly sweet, and to feel her warm body, her lovely breasts, to touch her and enjoy the play of her kisses, it was the highlight of my night. And then Skippy came by to be our cheerleading section. And both Duchess and I, bursting out with laughter, knew it was time to go. We met the satiated Kimberly after she took her leave of the Expert Guide, and the three of us, giggly and happy, headed out the door.

Don't y'all just wish Kimberly joined us two before she got dressed? :P

The Sex Club - Getting Acquainted

2011-01-28T14:20:00.000-05:00

We walk in the door and it's not as packed as it could be, but there are people. We step to the bar and order drinks. I'm gauging our surroundings, and so is Kimberly, and so is The Duchess. And as our drinks arrive, so does Skippy.

He thinks he has us figured out. He pegs one of us as married, the other two single. He pegs one of us as the ringleader. He pegs one of us as the prude. He's marking us, but we giggle. He has it bass ackward. He thinks I'm single. Do I exude the aura of the unattached? We tell him this is our first time here, but he already knows this. He tells us it's his first time back to the club in years, but we all know he was here last week.

We walk past the dancefloor and find couches on the raised seating at the side of the room. Skippy follows us. We watch a birthday girl on the dancefloor - she has shoulder length wavy brown hair, a tight white baby tee, and absolutely nothing else (except for boots). She's dancing by herself on the dancefloor. She doesn't seem to need anyone else. Once in a while, she acknowledges a close by body, but she's wrapped in her own bliss.

There is a man standing by the steps. He is alone. He's dressed well - a crisp white shirt and an air of confidence. Before I know it, Kimberly has approached him, and in a moment, they are dancing. The Duchess and I are impressed. We laugh, stuck with Skippy, but all is not lost. He asks if we're going to the back room. Hmmm? Back? Of course, he's never been there. He hasn't been here in four years, he continuously insists. He probably has rented his own bed back there, he's been there so often. But I maintain a smile. I want to see how frisky things can get around here. "Take us there," I tell Skippy. He, of course, is more than eager.

Kimberly, chatting with Mr. White Shirt, is soon to join us as we motion to where we are heading. As we arrive in the derobing area - because, of course, in this area, you can strip down to undergarments and a towel, and no more - I notice that others have stripped down to less. We follow Skippy down the hall lined with half concealed rooms in dim light. Some are occupied. We catch glimpses of bodies. Suddenly, I feel overdressed in my towel. It was a long walk down that corridor. The curtains hanging from each semo-private room barely afforded privacy to patrons who were too occupied to care how the flutter of flimsy fabric revealed them. And beyond the corridor, I could see drapery falling gracefully around the edges of many, many beds.

I shivered in the slight chill of excitement as the air breezed past my bare skin. I exchange a smile of pure anticipation with Duchess. A few more steps. No turning back now...

HNT: Riff's Leash

2011-01-27T05:45:00.000-05:00

Who doesn't love Riff Dog?

With a naughty mind of my own, sometimes some discipline is in order, and Riff was good enough to lend his leash for the cause. Somehow I don't think he takes well to having one on...

...a gift for one of my favourite dawgs :P

Happy HNT y'all! Check out Osbasso to see who else is playing.

Match Synopsis - Undressing the Orgy

2011-01-24T10:00:00.000-05:00

Let's take a moment to call a spade a spade, shall we?

I'm not claiming my orgy story is in any way untrue. Every word is real. Like any retelling - I recant details which guide the flow. Of course not all was told; who wants to read each word of every tedious thought in every angle of every scene? I wanted a record that I could return to as one smooth, cohesive tale that will build my future orgasms to shattering hights, and one that you, my readers, could, ahem, enjoy. But lets not kid ourselves. As great as the night was, of course there were pitfalls. I mentioned some of them already. But lets get into some details...

Mr & Mrs:
Again, her body was alright, but her makeup a little garish, her clothes a little too loud, her laugh a little too gruff - I don't deny that I am picky, but I am fair. She would not have been my first choice. Note: You have the right to ask for pictures of all players beforehand. And not just the 'neck down' shots.
Him... again... a little too meek. No no, very meek. Because if I was his birthday gift, he shouldn't have to wait for his wife's encouragement to be lead to my pussy before eagerly devouring me. He should take it. At least, this is my preference in a man. Confidence and the testosterone to make me submit - I need these things in a man for him to turn me on. But before any of the sex, please, if you are receiving guests, prepare yourself. shower, shoes off, set the mood. Don't seem surprised when we walk through the door. Note: Get to know both of the couple, don't rely on speaking to just one half.

Small Talk:
Chitchat is fine. Sports talk I can take for a short while. But let's not drag out our Superbowl predictions like we're hosting the pregame show. Yes, I know much of the chitchat was due to nerves, but when you leave the tv on a baseball game, it doesn't leave room for much else, does it? Note: Music videos or even porn (soft or hardcore) are more appropriate for hosting this sort of event. And while we're at it, pay attention to the room lighting. Office flourescents, or dimmed lamps? If you're too nervous to talk about sex, imagine taking your clothes off in full light.

Attraction: Scent of a Woman:
I've already told you I had no desire to kiss Mrs. I did, however, want to spend some time pleasuring her. As I said, I've never tasted a woman before. I wanted to. I wanted to take my time and explore her. I wanted to pick up on her queues and follow her lead. And when I lay her back on the bed and crawled into position, with the men all watching, I was eager and so turned on, just to savour the moment and lower my head enough to run my tongue the length of her pussy, oh, just the thought of it! But not all so. There was a faint... uhm... odour. Not her juices, no, there was no odour there. Just the flesh. Just the skin. It wasn't foul either. Just... raw. Distinct. I wondered. I asked a blogger friend: "do all women have that scent?" because while I know the scent and delicious taste of my own juices, I'm not *quite* flexible enough to get my head anywhere close to my own pussy. Then again, he's been eatin pussy far longer than I have. "Yes," he said, "the skin does have a very slight difference, but not offputting. If it is, then she has cleanliness issues." Then I had an experience, being close to another woman, and I can tell you - this is not a common trait to all women. Note: for the sake of your partners, clean, clean, clean! Men, this goes for you too. Damn, really, I shouldn't have to remind people of this! A little perfume/cologne wouldn't kill you either. Scent does a lot to drive a lady crazy.

Shower:
I have to admit that I wanted out the moment the session was over. I don't know why. I wasn't repulsed. I just wanted to get out and get home. Yes, I took a quick shower with The Cop, but come on, it was a dirty little shower, wasn't it? No, I wanted to get home, take a real shower, and wash the sweat of every body off of mine. I wanted it to be me and only me again. A deep and relaxing shower. Note: Prep your exit plan (I have no issues with mine - The Cop was great about it, but if you don't plan it, it could go so much worse).

In the grand scheme of things these are trivial. Yet they made an impact on me or at some point interrupted my flow. And I felt it important to capture, lest I ever am drawn into a multiplayer scenario, who better to advise me than, well, me. I want to remember all the good and get off on it multiple times, but I should also keep a record of the challenges.

So there you have it; the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

Percautions

2011-01-14T10:02:00.000-05:00

I know this will show up in any reader before I take my blog private.
For any readers out there:I will reappear. It's important I lay low for a bit.
Keep well, and I'll see you before long.
*kisses*

Reflections on 2010

2011-01-01T00:00:00.000-05:00

I have a tradition of really thinking of thankfulness and blessings every year, and since I've started this blog, I'm posted that list. So to continue with my tradition...

Last year, I posted a similar list. Some items are the same, some have changed. After all, one year is a long time in which we can grow and change. Happy New Year y'all.
________________________________________
I want to mention all I am grateful for over this past year.

I am grateful for being offered and accepting the job I always wanted on my own terms.

I am grateful for having the power to choose the path of my career.

I am grateful for the messages and friendshipts of old coworkers and will never forget the value they add to my life.

I am grateful for my successes and failures.

I am grateful for being financially stable.

I am grateful for not having to worry about whether or not I'll have heat or running water.

I am grateful for knowing I'll never have to go hungry.

I am grateful for shelter - comfortable and inviting shelter.

I am grateful for the conveniences I can afford.

I am grateful for owning a luxurious and reliable car.

I am grateful for my faith.

I am grateful for my good health.

I am grateful for my strength.

I am grateful for attentive medical care.

I am grateful for my freedom.

I am grateful for the ability to exercise my rights.

I am grateful for my education, affording me my analytical and rational mind.

I am grateful for all the challenges I have had in my life.

I am grateful for having such wonderful, supportive, and loving parents.

I am grateful for having a sister who keeps me on the straight and narrow, or at least tries to.

I am grateful that my sister seems to have finally found happiness in a partner.

I am grateful for having the chance to know my grandparents and listen to all their wisdom and learn something of my ancestry.

I am grateful for growing up Guyanese.

I am grateful for my large, rambunctious, quick-witted and humourous family.

I am grateful for cousins who are more like brothers and sisters.

I am grateful for a slew of aunts who can cook like nobodies business.

I am grateful for uncles who are not afraid to cut yuh tail.

I am grateful for watching my mother in the kitchen and learning how to cook a wicked curry and a well chunkayed dhal.

I am grateful for my healthy appetite for liquor :-)

I am grateful for friendship.

I am grateful for my blog-friends who open my eyes.

I am grateful for the extra special blog-friends who will continue to be friends regardless of the blog.

I am grateful for having my boys who don't treat me like a girl.

I am grateful for having my girls who never judge me.

I am grateful for die hard crew who will always have my back.

I am grateful for knowing I can pick up a phone at four in the morning and have a willing (but tired) ear on the line.

I am grateful for fetes.

I am grateful for all the bachannal with the crew.

I am grateful for my boys who will step in if a man gets too abrasive.

I am grateful for my girls who will jam on me until the fete is over.

I am grateful for chutney and indian music all the rumshop night long.

I am grateful for iron, mud, water and powder come jouvert morning.

I am grateful for crossing the stage carnival day.

I am grateful for mas.

I am grateful for soca that can keep me dancing even when I'm scrubbing the tub!

I am grateful for my wining skill.

I am grateful for all the times I've performed on stage or choreographed a dance.

I am grateful for some of the big names I've worked with or worked for, or simply met backstage.

I am grateful for dominoes.

I am grateful for cyard :-)

I am grateful for love.

I am grateful for my stepdaughter and goddaughter and the honest affection in their eyes.

I am grateful for my marriage.

I am grateful for a husband who tries to be a good partner.

I am grateful for orgasms.

I am grateful for unconditional love, letting it go, and having it return to me unconditionally.

I am grateful for experiencing joy and love beyond words to the point where it draws tears from your eyes.

I am grateful for having someone love me so completely they are willing to let me go.

I am grateful for have someone love me without trying to change me.

I am grateful for experiencing sexual highs.

I am grateful for orgasms.

I am grateful for having a man obsess over me.

I am grateful for my love of writing, which leads me to my pride in my novels and my poetry.

I am grateful for my imagination.

I am grateful for orgasms.

I am grateful for knowing when to stop.

I am grateful for life.

Blessings:

I ask God to bless those I love.

My Parents

My Sister

My Husband

My Lover

My Step-Daughter

My Goddaughter

Her Godfather

My Brother in Law

My Sister in Law

My Sister's new Beau

My Husband's Parents

My Grandmother

His Grandfather

Our Late Grandparents

My dear Cousins (including the Crew)

His Cousins

My Aunts and Uncles

His Aunts and Uncles

My Friends (both in real life and here, in this wonderful world of blogging)

My Co-Workers (and his)

My Pundit

All who are in poor health, may you recover
All who have recently lost a loved one, may your sorrow be managed through the love of family
All who are in dire straits, may your burdens be lightened by future successes
All who have suffered, may you pains be removed
All who need assistance, may you receive help
All who are closeminded, may your eyes be opened
All who are in dispair, may you have the devine ispiration of hope

HNT: Favourite of 2010 - 3am

2010-12-30T22:18:00.000-05:00

It's a little late, but better late than never!
This is my fave of the year. Also my most risque.
Happy New Year All, and HHNT!

Check out Osbasso to see who else is playing.

HNT: Holiday Lips

2010-12-22T20:00:00.002-05:00

HAPPY *HNT* HOLIDAYS!

...one of the lovely holiday shades on my lips.

Happy HNT y'all! Check out Osbasso to see who else is playing.

Sex Blogger Night Out

2010-12-19T22:05:00.000-05:00

There are many esteemed and well respected bloggers who choose not to post as frequently as they once had. Some of these bloggers I'm blessed to call my friends. And of those friends, on a recently brisk evening, two of them met with me in the heart of the city.

I've met them before. Remember, the Moroccan restaurant? Yes, it was high time a subsequent meeting was in order. Unfortunately, everyone having to travel quite far, Aurore was not able to join us this time, but as I entered the hotel room, Duchess and Kimberly had just arrived before me, and with warm smiles, we knew this reunion was far overdue.

I must say, the Duchess looked smashing. Same alluring lips, lovely curves, and a carefree relaxation that couldn't do anything but put me at ease. And Kimberly, well, any of her readers needs no confirmation from me how drop dead gorgeous she is. All three of us, in little black dresses, all three, ready for a night on the town.

I think we all had it in our heads what we wanted to do. Half of sexiness is the mood, so we let the night take us where we would. Where during our first encounter, the meal was the grounds for conversation through the night, this encounter's dinner served as the precursor of one hell of a ride!

Oh, eyes were on us, for sure. The waiter was attentive and dressed with wandering eyes. The neighbourly tables were sent blushing, but we were used to this. We relished it just a little bit ;-)
But soon, we left, we freshened up, and were eager to head to our destination.

I had never been to a sex club before. I was curious to see the decor, mingle with the patrons, and observe. I doubted I'd be interested in partaking, but I wasn't about to rule it out. And my companions were eager to check out this venue. So after the quick membership pleasantries, we entered.

Is anyone interested in what happened next?

Round 5: Orgasm

2010-12-06T00:20:00.000-05:00

I was enthralled watching Misses and my men enjoy each other. Mister was eager to taste me, freshly fucked simultaniously by The Cop and The Bouncer. He went slow. He imagined I was sensitive. And also, we were partially taken with our own activity, but the view was something we would never see again. And for him, I can only imagine how much he was turned on by watching his wife being serviced so completely.

The Bouncer shifted after The Cop pulled out, allowing the Misses a chance to offer her pussy to her husband. Lazily fondling each other, they watched as The Cop returned to me. I raised up to take his rock hard cock. I could feel it his determination - he wanted me to finally cum. And he wanted me to do it with him. After all this sex, I still shivered as he pressed against my slick lips, slow, deliberate strokes, his iron thighs between mine as I gripped him, drew him in, and matched him. We picked up pace. He flipped me over. I burried my fists into the sheets and took each crashing stab into me until I almost went hoarse. I could feel lips on my clit in lazy circles. The contrast was exhillerating. Then they pulled back to watch.

My demeanour must have noticibly changed. Their giggling and conversation paused. I heard The Bouncer say "...it looks like she's a little busy. Let me give her a hand." I could feel his hands all over. I could feel him on my nipples. The Cop, with every thrust, was able to slide along my gspot, the entire length of him so delicious, building to the crest of emotions. The sensation numbed my skin all over. My gasping had been reduced to a humming mumble. "I think she's gonna cum," someone said. "Yeah, you wanna come for me?" The Cop asked. with a bare nod of my head, I whimpered "mmm... hmmm...", and urged him to keep fucking me. The others may be taking a break, but this was not about them, this was about me and The Cop, and if they got off on it, all the better. Hearing The Bouncer only heightened the experience. Trembling at such a high frequency from the core of me rendered all muscles useless; I couldn't hold myself up any longer. I buried my chest into the bed, closed my eyes, and threw my arms out in front of me. It was out of body, surreal, it was strong and purposeful fucking, and he was taking me to highs, serious highs, and I soared, and he knew he was doing this to me, and he could feel my pussy clench down on him, and I admitted, I was cumming, I was cumming and my whole body was buzzing with the orgasmic juices, endorphines carried me weightlessly, and I could feel the cum lubricating his last couple thrusts before he pulled out and sprayed hot jets of cum all over my back.

****** EPILOGUE ******
Spent, we all chatted and giggled for a while on the bed. The Cop took a quick shower, and I followed in a minute or so. "I canna get out of here soon," I told him, a sentiment he echoed. We giggled in the shower together, and he stepped out, towelled off, and handed it to me when I stepped out. We quickly dressed, as did everyone else, and slipped out of the room; Mister and Misses to have a bite to eat, and us three, with departing hugs, to our respective homes to a well deserved sleep.

Round 4: Double Up Now...

2010-11-23T10:20:00.000-05:00

"Are you ready?" The Cop whispers to me.

Ready for what? What novel experience is there left to be had? What more could I ask for? What could he anticipate that I would want enough to cause that devilish grin as he flips me over.

You see, at this point, we had gone through various configurations since I had The Bouncer stroking me from behind and The Cop hitting the back of my throat. It was a hazy flow of pleasure. I didn't want to understand it; I only wanted to enjoy it. Let go and embrace it. I remember flashes of it. But teeter on the brink of blowing your mind and don't care whether you keep your balance. reach out to feel a breast in one hand, a cock in the next hand, all moving with the rhythm of the fucking of another cock inside you; these glimpses are what I remember. I had another shot of rum with one of my partners in the midst of all this sex. I remember the sound of someone groaning in pleasure. It is all so viscerally present. I could close my eyes and be taken back to those moments.

I'm not sure how it all started. I know The Bouncer was nearby and I pushed him back onto the bed and mounted him, taking advantage of the full length of his cock, riding him, swivelling my hips with each thrust and relishing the flutter of his eyelids, stabs of carnal narcotic flowing through our veins. In my peripherals I could see The Cop as he drew close behind me, reached around my torso, greedily grabbed my breasts and yanked my head back to kiss me, looked me in the eyes, naughty smiles on us both. Then he pushed me down. That's when he asked me that question... "are you ready?" my adrenaline spiked. There was no reaction from The Bouncer. We kept fucking. And soon, finding our pace, The Cop, hands on my hips, breasts smashed on The Bouncer's chest, absolutely exposed, that's when I felt him and knew exactly what he was doing.

I never thought I could, uhm, accomodate them both. Especially while I was fucking the well endowed Bouncer. But I could feel an exhillerating sensation. Think of pistons firing. Two men, inside me, both in my pussy, their cocks against each other, fucking me jointly, not giving me a moment to breathe, jackhammering until the could tell I needed a moment. as I rolled to the side, The Cop pulled Misses and said "Your turn!" She was more than eager to hop on. I was turned on watching, knowing that this was what was happening to me. They rode her like champs. The Bouncer bucking up from the bottom, The Cop thrusting forward from behind. 'Take it,' I thought to myself, as I know I had taken it, braced back into it and handled them both.

Exhillerating. And can you believe? The Cop still wouldn't let me cum. Well, not until he and The Bouncer had finished with the thoroughly fucked Misses....

Round 3: Skewered

2010-11-16T02:13:00.002-05:00

Isn't it the dirty little fantasy of most women to be skewered?

Are some of you wondering what 'skewered' is? Really? And you read blogs like mine, which probably means you read other, much raunchier blogs, and you still have to ask?

Well then, read on.

It was The Cop who broke up our little chain of pleasure. We all watched as he walked around Mister, up onto the bed and up on his knees. From this vantage point, cheek on the bed, I looked up at him looking down on me.

"Come on," he coaxed.

Before I could comprehend the movement around me, seeing Mister and Misses fucking, half watching us, half lost in their own euphoria, me feeling The Bouncer's hand on my hip swinging me so I could better face The Cop, The Cop looking down on me the whole time, as though ready to absolve me, to initiate me, almost lovingly, that feeling when a man strokes your cheek down the side of your chin with his thumb. It's almost always followed by the doe-eyed gaze upward. Yes, play innocent, Topaz. Pretend like you have no idea what's going on. That's what I gathered was going on in his head with that slight smirk.

He guided me by the chin. The Bouncer was stalk still behind me. He was watching. I could sense it. He wanted to see that initial bob of the head, fall of the hair, it did something for him. He wanted to wait for this moment.

The Cop has the sort of cock you just want to enjoy every way possible. I mean it's perfect in every way. I don't know how this is possible. It's not just 'nice' or 'beautiful' - this thing is inviting. And I just had... to have... a taste..

In one motion I somehow held him by the base and slid him all the way to the back of my throat in one go. Sure, I love to tease, to enjoy the head, to savour the experience, but knowing what was coming, this was the most appropriate response. You don't want to keep your third waiting, do you? I'm sure The Bouncer appreciated my decision, because he allowed The Cop to savour a couple long, firm pulls from my lips and my tongue until he found the rhythm which he could join us.

No rhythm could prepare me. To feel him inside me was heavenly. he was large enough that you could not ignore every pump of his hips. You would think I could just follow his flow and let him guide me to his own pace, but in practice, it doesn't work that way. I couldn't be lazy about it. It was two separate paces - one I could control, and one I couldn't. Sure, they were similar, but they were both distinctly unique. To feel these two clearly separate acts simultaneously sent overloading waves of pleasure through me to a point where I was thoroughly intoxicated. And catching a view in the mirror, I could see that they were kinetically as enthralled as I was.

Knowing that each little variation was affected by a combination of us three. The sensation of it all, the changes, it was wonderful, it was freedom and enjoyment and all things sex was meant to be. But that doesn't mean it was all over...

Round 2: Daisy Chain

2010-11-11T07:35:00.001-05:00

We left off as The Cop left off... with me on the verge of cumming and him pulling out on the brink. But share and share alike. Mister was ready for a taste.

Misses drew my legs his way, and like an owner calling her pet, she coaxed him closer... "Come on baby, this is what you've been waiting for..." He looked up at her as a puppy would look up at his master as he pulled himself closer until I could feel his breath, you know, the sort that jumpstarts your anticipation of that first touch of his tongue to your skin. It's a typical expectation. That I felt her fingers slide over my lips and spreading me for his tongue, that I felt her fingers and his lips, that was atypical. That was exhilarating. But soon it was all him, because The Cop told her it was her turn, and she lay back, hands still trailing along me until he was having his way with her. And Mister was fully enjoying the taste of me. He was good. He knew what he was doing. It seemed to be all he wanted to do. And I was happy letting him do it. But soon, The Bouncer didn't just want to watch. He had been, at the edge of the bed, cock in his hand, enjoying the sight of everything playing itself out. But now he was ready to join.

I waved him over me. He obeys. I flash him a smirking sort of smile as I lean my head back to the side with as little figiting as possible so I can still enjoy Mister and begin pleasuring The Bouncer. I tease him just a little. He's aching for it. I could feel the muscles in his thigh tremble slightly as l run my tongue up his leg, and oooh, I how hard he is, I just want it, I want my lips around him, and I take it, because I can, and it's mine, all for me, and he can't wait. I slide the ridge of his head over my wet lips, and I know he can't wait. I don't want him to quench that longing too quickly, no, so I slowly, feeling every bulging vein, slide my lips as far down as I can go. It elicits a groan that starts down in his abdomen, I can feel it, and I can feel his cock jump with a throb that I stayed with. He had one hand on the back of my head. I love the feel of it. But I couldn't see it. I had twisted in such a way that I was looking down and to my side. And as though having my pussy licked and a well deserving cock in my mouth, there was more.

The Cop was giving Misses a good fucking, and though she was enjoying herself, and Mister was enjoying himself, she didn't want his cock to go untended. She took him in her mouth. She was well underway by the time I looked down. Imagine, two men, standing on either side of the bed, and between them laid out roughly in a 'Z' configuration were two women and another man between them. A perfect chain. A pleasure chain.

And not for the first or last time for the night, The Cop, with that mischievous glint in his eye, caught my gaze, and eased away from misses and made his way around Mister and climbed onto the bed towards me...

Round 1: A Live Audience

2010-11-06T11:36:00.002-04:00

...The Cop didn't want to watch us anymore. He didn't want to wait. When I think back on it, I wonder, was he eager to have me again? Was that part of his fantasy? To have us have sex before the eyes of others?

Once on my back and still gripping my ankles, he yanked upwards until my toes were on his shoulder and pointing at the ceiling. I could hear shuffling behind me. I think Mister was getting closer to Misses. I don't know where The Bouncer was, but I could hear him now and again. I was completely absorbed for the moment, to have the Cop so determined and focused to have me above all other things. And what's best is that he deserves to have me when he wants me, and he wants me first and he wants me now. I admit, I let slip from my mind exactly how delicious he was to have, but when I was sitting on his lap, it all flooded back, with the way he moved, it was sucking the consciousness from me, and I was unable to anticipate the glorious pleasure he brought when he plunged inside me. My eyes closed, I could still feel them roll back into my head, and it was far too quickly for me to feel this comfortable to give a fuck what anyone thought. Misses's hands touched my hips and slid back up to my ribs and up my arms, back to where she was moving in a rhythm just a little off the beat of our own. She was enjoying someone. I raised my arm to feel her motion as The Cop rammed me towards ecstasy.

How could I forget such a magnificent cock? It had the length, robust, and just the right curve to hit my gspot. And he knew how to stroke it. It came naturally to him. Perfect. I moved in time with him. I felt another leg. Clearly, this must be The Bouncer. I raised my fingers up his thigh, staggered by each thrust, but eventually, trailed high enough to find his cock. The Cop wasn't joking. I really wasn't disappointed. I couldn't believe what was happening; I was being fucked with another cock in one hand and a woman's breast rocking in the other. But in a second I lost that thought in another wave of that sex induced dopamine. I could feel it building. If he kept this up, I was going to come. Yes, I didn't want him to stop. Keep fucking, I told him, opening my eyes enough to skewer him with an ordering gaze. But his smile told me otherwise, even when I repeated, "keep.... fucking..." but he slowed to an excruciatingly enjoyable motion, the kind where you feel every bulging vain and every throb and then... and then he was out.

"You devil!" I tease him as he smiles and slaps my ass. Yes, in the moment, who wouldn't want to cum? But I'm glad he stopped when he did. I can't wait to enjoy him again later, because, of course, the night is young...

Initiation

2010-11-01T08:00:00.001-04:00

As I've said, everyone was new to this, and no one knew how to begin.

With The Cop's expert touch and guidance I whispered for him to ask Misses to come closer to us. She did, she came to him, standing behind me. I was still seated on The Cop's lap. And his fingers stroking my thigh, his other hand caressing misses, and misses finding her way under the top of my dress.

To read this, my reaction is... 'so what?' but imagine, hands belonging to two different minds moving independently, it was enough to overload my senses. I locked eyes with The Bouncer, who watched directly in front of me. He leaned back. The look in my eyes betrayed my overwhelmed senses. He smiled, walked over to us, and helped The Cop remove my dress. Mister helped Misses out of her clothes. The men did not rush. They enjoyed watching the fabric slide over our skin. They moaned their approval. It sent shivers through me.

I enjoyed the feel of the hands. I brought my breathing under control. And I walked away. I deliberately took Misses by the hand, looked her in the eye, and said, "they can wait," and led her to the bed.

She faced me, and I dipped my head and tongued her nipples. They were so soft. They were...so firm. Her breasts in my explorative hands caused her to ease back onto the bed, and I moved closer, urging her further back, raising my knee onto the bed, and then the next, her soft smile, her backing up beneath me just enough to have her pelvis in my line of site, I move up higher, up to her neck, to kiss, throw my hair back, and slowly lower myself, enjoying her nipples one last time before I bring myself low enough, right where she wanted, and barely having to touch her thighs before having them spread wide.

Oh, the view.

She was as I like - clean shaven, or waxed (waxed I think) and what a tight, perfectly beautiful pussy she had. I took a moment to just admire it. On all fours before her, I could see her looking down on me. And as I lowered my head, I could feel the eyes of all the men looking down on this scene.

I kissed her abdomen. I traced her curves down to the side of her thigh, where I licked slowly. She didn't shiver, but rather, she relaxed her legs. I could have drawn it out, I could, but realizing there were others present, I lowered my head, and with the lightest touch, I slowly licked the folds of skin with the very wet tip of my tongue.

"Ooooh, that's so fucking hot..." I could hear one of the men groan as they were captivated by us. She had a swooning smile on her face as I glanced up, but then I lost myself in exploring this new territory which was so unique and different, the feel of the skin, the taste, the layout, the stimulation and pleasure I brought to her, it was exhilarating to move between soft, slow and delicate, to rapid, firm and rigourous. But I didn't get to continue for a long while, because someone grabbed my ankles, pulled me away and twisted me over onto my back...

HNT: Unicorn Legs

2010-10-27T23:00:00.000-04:00

This is what I wore the night of my party last week ;-)

Happy HNT y'all! Check out Osbasso to see who else is playing.

The Players

2010-10-26T23:25:00.000-04:00

No one expects things to pop off as soon as we entered the room. I didn’t know if they were sizing me up the way I was sizing them up. I knew what they wanted as far as looks went; my ethnicity, my body type, and you don’t just jump into a night like this without some preparation. I know I can’t pull out all the stops if I feel full, so I stopped eating around noon that day. I drank water and green tea. I had a full wax the night before, I did my hair and my nails in a subtle but sexy way, and the same went for my makeup. We’re not making a multimillion dollar porn flick here. There is a fine line between sexy and garish. And Misses crossed that line.

I wore a little black dress with a blue rhinestone chain and hoop earrings. No other jewelry. After all, the idea is that rings, bracelets and necklaces have a tendency to get caught and hinder ‘activity’, so they were unnecessary. Undergarments, black thong, black bra. Again, simple, sexy, no nonsense. She had a similar idea, but in execution, it did not come off well. She wore a black skirt, and a black top with shiny purple shot throughout. A bright purple. Think tinsel. Her nails were nicely done, as was her hair. Both pluses. I have a hard time dealing with anyone who does not keep their hair well groomed. I don’t care if you’re balding, there is always something you can do to keep it looking sharp, like keeping it trim. And she had a beautiful headful of auburn curls that snaked down her back. Absolutely lovely. Her nails were a deep burgundy. Dark enough so that they went with her hair and did not clash with the purple in her top. But her makeup was another story altogether. Burgundy lipstick and eye shadow and liner that seemed popular for a teenager and applied in the same haphazard way a young girl would. Colours so deep that even I wouldn’t have worn them that night (and I'm not white, people). I guess ethnicity is something I should also discuss…

Mister and Misses are a white couple. The Cop is black, we share the same country of origin, and The Bouncer is also black, but from another Caribbean island.

The Bouncer is cut. He is, of course, a bouncer. Not the big and burly, the tall and muscular. He's dark skinned. He's got an ass you could bounce a quarter on. Yes, he's got a great physique. We used to model together years ago, and he's only gotten better with time. We were never close then, but we did get along well. Aside from sporadic updates from The Cop, this is the first time I'm seeing him in years.

Now, my friend The Cop is good looking. He’s got a siiiiiick body. The bouncer is pretty cut too. But mind you, it’s The Cop who I fantasize about. He knows how to get me going. And I hate to admit it, but memory faded how well he knows the female body. Saturday was a pleasant reminder. He keeps himself well groomed. Everywhere. He is my trusted playmate. He will always keep me safe. He will never put me in a situation I do not want. And we are each others' primary partners. Our needs and our preferences come before all others if this becomes a necessary concern.

Now, as for Mister. Where do I begin…

Mister had his shoes on when I came in. This doesn't seem like a very big thing to you, I'm sure. But they were big clunky kicks. Not something welcoming when both women, in heels which had been removed at the door, found very inviting. She mentioned that he could take them off. It was a little less offputting then, but as I mentioned, his hair was not trim, and his breath was not-quite-fresh. Let me assure you, he was not ugly. He was not unattractive. He was just not attractive to me. I think it had more to do with his demeanor. He seemed somewhat timid. Somewhat unsure. A little too eager-to-please-ish. He lacked the degree of confidence that I require.

I must also clarify, that in the last post, I mentioned bottles of liquor, and I must clear up any notions of me being drunk. As a social gesture, and to ease everyone’s nerves, yes, we had a few drinks. They help just as much as the conversation we had. And I thought the night was going to drone on, but leave it to The Cop, the ever in control sexy as hell friend of mine, to push my buttons and turn me on, raise my dress just a little too high to be ignored by anyone. 'He' made sure the glaring lamp was turned off. 'He' made sure the music was turned up and the tv turned down. 'He' made me want to submit to him, and no one else but him. I would control anyone else in the room. But he... he controlled me.

It was a mix of timid and confidence, of sexy and virginal, think of every contradiction and stir it together, this was our cocktail of the night. It's amazing to experience this flow from a congregation of varied personalities becomes a mix of varied bodies. It didn't matter who was wearing shoes or what colour clothing was shed.

Unicorn

2010-10-24T20:50:00.014-04:00

I never really thought of myself as the unicorn. I still don't think I am, not in the strictest sense, since i have a stand-in partner. But nonetheless, a unicorn I was. I was saught after. I was worshipped. I was treasured. I was an unusual and mythical creature, that night.

There are many things I would like to tell you about what happened last night when I met with a husband and wife couple (whom, from here on in I will refer to as Mister and Misses), my Cop friend and his friend (whom I will refer to as The Bouncer).

Five People.
Four Bottles.
Three Men.
Two Women.
One Unicorn.

A fellow blogger has helped me understand that I would be the focal point of the night. It was one thing to know, and another thing to experience. To have everyone wanting to touch me, to have me offered to another as though I was a gift, it was all so overwhelming. But he was right about something else - anticipation, while great, should not lead to expectation (well, he didn't really put it in those terms, there was a lot of hitting on in between ;-) wasn't there?). Expectation could lead to disappointment. And that would be the worst way to experience such a unique night. So I left my expectations very base. Yet, this unicorn wanted only some base rules covered. While Mister and Misses were by no means ugly, had wonderful bodies, and were overall not unappealing, they were just not attractive to me. There was an uncouthness to their demeanour. There was an unpreparedness about them given the sort of evening they were hosting. Then again, they were very kind and welcoming. So all in all, this wasn't enough to turn me off. But, The Cop understands my likes, and he knew they're appearance was uncouth as their attitude. Garish makeup, nothing subdued, a wildness, a directness that screams "I'm here to fuck!" rather than the seductive "would you like to fuck me?" I prefer the later. But of course, I couldn't really know this until I was in this situation, could I?

What happened was this; we spent at least a full hour of chit chat over drinks. This was enough to get us all comfortable, chatting, drinking developing some sort of rapport. If anyone is a newbie as I am, or Topaz, if you're returning to this post for pointers for whatever reason, remember this - the socializing does wonders to soften judgement and appreciate the positive points of potential partners.

I ramble. I promised to tell you all about that night, and I will, over the next few posts. I wanted to set the grounds of where things began. What my thoughts were going in. What surprised me. And so now, I will focus more on the events. How did it begin?

I arrived to meet my Cop friend and The Bouncer in the parking lot and we headed upstairs. We had drinks, we chatted about football, baseball, some popular television shows, and some light chat about 'work' without revealing too much. Mister and Misses sat on the bed. The Boucer sat in the chair closest to the drinks. The Cop sat on the chair behind the ottoman on which I sat. He drew be closer to him, started running his hands up and down my leg, placed my hand down his pants on his cock (oh, how could I have ever forgotten how wonderfully endowed he is?!?) and all while we continued chatting. And soon, our mood struck Mister and Misses. And I asked the Cop to ask Misses to come over to me.

This was happening right before my eyes. And within moments, not one stitch of clothing would be worn, and I would be experiencing one of my most highly anticipated fantasies.

My Subconscious Mocks Me

2010-10-22T07:55:00.003-04:00

Well, tonight is the big night. IF things follow through, and I must tell you, I'm highly excited, I've been running all possible scenarios as to how it may happen. I've been doing this for a few days. And it must have plagued me as I fell asleep, because last night, I had a very awkward dream.

I dreamt that I was at a party with many of my friends, and my highschool sweetheart, the one who was originally friends with all of us, well he was there too. In this dream, we had already broken up and hadn't seen each other for years. In this dream, I was still married. And in this dream, we ran off to a bedroom (very arabesque, for whatever random reason) and both overcome with desire, him asking me if I really wanted to do this, I could feel myself sliding down upon his rock hard cock. Exactly as I remember it. And in this dream, I knew I was cheating. And it didn't matter. All I wanted was sex.

Afterwards, as morning arrived, I snuck out of the room and picked my way through the passed out partigoers and drank a bottle of water on a corner of a couch near my friends just as they were waking up.

And I woke up 'very' refreshed.

Crossed fingers y'all. Crossed fingers....

Once Bitten...

2010-10-18T09:58:00.000-04:00

I'm like Bart Simpson who keeps reaching into the electric field to get the yummy cupcake. Although what I'm reaching for is a little more solid than a cupcake ;-)

I've been out of commission over the past week online, but that doesn't mean I've ceased all naughtiness. Looks like my wait has paid off. That 3-way conversation may turn into some 4-way fun. I really don't want to jinx this though.. but I just HAD to keep you posted. If not you, then who could I tell?

But rest assured; I will fill you in on all the naughty details if plans actually follow through this time...

IM 3way

2010-10-01T08:15:00.000-04:00

Maybe it was a good thing that my group plans have been delayed. Maybe it's just part of the anticipation building lead up that I so love. I should be happy, really, because if we weren't delayed, I wouldn't have had the chance to chat with 'her' and my The Cop online last night.

I don't know why we hadn't done this sooner. It seemed the natural thing to do, doesn't it? It should. And it was great. Things were slightly timid. We were both very aware that we had never been here before. And The Cop, leave it to him to ask the ice-breaker.. "Topaz, how wet are you right now?"

I could have died. She got excited. That's when things got a little more risque. "You two are trying to kill me," he eventually says. No no darlin, I need you alive and kicking. And doing other things...

I'm driving the newly scheduled date home through their heads. They wanted to meet tonight, but that is not happening. I can't flex my schedule any more than I already am, so the new date is my ONLY date. And after that conversation, seems like everyone can make themselves available.

Oh... and I forgot to mention, The Mr & Mrs met The Cop's best friend recently... and invited him to join us. But I'll write about him another time...

Happy Friday y'all! ;-)

....Strike Three!

2010-09-25T10:27:00.000-04:00

It's more like strike 5. Maybe a few Balls with 2 Out as well.

Oh screw the analogies. The group-play-crazy-hotel-fun I had scheduled for last night didn't pan out.

Why?

The other couple cancelled at (literally) the last hour. I understand their dilemma, but that doesn't cease my frustration from all the planning and excuse building. And it not being the first time they've done this, so my patience is wearing thin.

Just wanted to share my angst with you...

Swingandamiss...

2010-09-21T18:34:00.000-04:00

Ever try to get the schedules of four busy adults to mesh?

When you must have a good excuse for all your loved ones?

When your family circumstances cause last minute cancellations?

When location isn't the most accomodating factor in the equation?

When you have to find a good enough reason to be out alone until 2am?

When you multiply the above by four, because every one of you face those same obsticles?

That's why there hasn't yet been a foursome.

But...

...before I jump the gun, let's see what kind of update I have for you all next week ;-)

I Came So Hard

2010-09-17T08:09:00.001-04:00

Thank you to the returned Kimberly, for hosting the group post. This busy autumn has brought only a few players, but oh how well they write!
_____________________________________

He had me yearning from the get go. Every time I looked at the screen on my phone. There was something there to make me cross my legs tightly so that no one would know. Detailed images of the things he wanted me to do to him. An unexpected phone call during the middle of the day, and when I answered, I could hear the world carrying on behind him, but focused, he told me, in determined and unwavering terms, exactly what he was going to do to me.

Check your purse, he says. The inside pocket. I don't know how I haven't noticed it since now. Plunging my hand to the bottom so no one can see, I unfold the impossibly lacy little thong. Wear it for me, he says.

My mind has been racing all day. He's planted suggestions that I can't set aside. Not while I'm in meetings. Not while I'm strolling through the grocery store. And forget about the drive home; my lips are swollen, drenched, and there is only one thing that can save me now.

I can't eat. I can't drink. Shivers grip me when the desire builds. I take a shower, but every touch of my hand on my skin feels like his, it's unbearable, I want some release, but no, he says; not yet - not now.

I hear him step to the open door and see him watch me through the shower curtain.
I look up at him void of greeting as he throws it aside.

I reach for him, but no, he won't let me, and he bats my arm aside.

He holds my gaze.

He rests his hand on my hip and the water bounces off his skin.
Slowly enough to triple the aching inside me, his fingers trickle lower.
His fingertip stops when my entire body shivers.
Delicately, he slides back and forth.
Water sluicing down his arm.
I spread my legs and rest my back against the stone tiled wall.
He accelerates to match the sound of the water.
I'm spouting mouthfuls of water as I gasp for air.
It slides over my shoulders and torso in slow motion.
I feel every drop.
That moment, right before
He steadies me by the waist
As the jolt electrifies me
Tiny hands of water draw more and more from me
And I shower his hungry fingers
Which I can taste before it's all washed away
Exhausted
But I know it's the first
In a night of many.

Give me a minute - I need to learn how to stand again.
I need to catch my breath.
But that's what happens when I cum that hard.

_______________________________
Cum with me to check out these other great reads:

Kimberly
Barefoot Dreamer
Advizor

Desensitized

2010-09-15T21:31:00.000-04:00

I'm guessing it's not normal for your spouse to say "we'll I guess you'll be glad to hear that I'll be home with you more often now that I won't be getting equal time with my daughter anymore. Does that make you happy?"

I know he was just emotional and I knew he would apologize once he calmed down (which he did, profusely, and with genuine regret). That didn't stop me from calling him out on how unfair it was to say such a thing, since I always support the time he dedicates to her. I just didn't put any weight in his accusation. I have learned to just let it go.

I'm still wondering - is this a sign of my emotional health? Or is this sign leading me elsewhere...

Identity

2010-09-08T14:28:00.000-04:00

Here are a few things that I've heard over the past week from various sources:

(running for a meeting, I overhear) "This isn't highschool" (and yes, I was dressed appropriately, in a blazer, long skirt, no cleavage).
"Thanks so much for your help..."
"Are you pregnant? I had a dream, and interpretation tells my you're pregnant, or you will be soon. Go get a test."
"Stop thanking me! I only leant you a phone line. You're a funny woman!"
"That's your own fault!"
"Come to xxxxxxxxxx with me for the weekend for my birthday. Your family and mine."
"I had a hard time leaving that sexy body."
"...and yet I'm assuming that you're quite good at your job. I'm just assuming. You could be terrible."
"You don't really want me."
"I thought you wanted sushi?"
"They need to know how many. It's a catered event."
"People generally don't want change."
"I hope you can forgive me."

Position: Maximum Penetration

2010-08-31T00:08:00.002-04:00

Like it deep?
So do I. And finally, through a lot of hard work and experiments, I found the position that could push you to tears. The lengths I go to for my work. So I thought I'd share the wealth.
Here's a quick and dirty :P sketch. Really, this is a horrible sketch, but it's hard to describe without an image. I hope it doesn't suck the sexy right out of the position.

The most important thing is that you reach between your thigh and your calf and grip his ankle from the inside (see area circled in red). Everything else kind of falls into place once you do this. For added leverage, use your free arm to grasp his, and have him do the same (men, I guess you get the idea without me explaining on the mans side, other than that one leg has to be up and right against her). Oh, and this isn't a 'lets-have-sex-get-into-that-position' kind of move. This is a move that evolves from other, more pedestrian moves. But he will have to be on his knees, or preferably, standing while you lay on the edge of a bed/table/countertop or something of the like.

I haven't named it, but maybe I should. Any suggestions?

You

2010-08-29T05:24:00.002-04:00

I don't know how to tell you that I want to fuck you. Under soft incadescent light, your body is savoured inch by inch in my minds eye. Your anticipation, your eagerness matching mine, stalking each other, circling, holding back just enough to turn you on. You lifting me easily as a ragdoll and savouring the way my hair sways. I wrap my legs around your waist an let you carry me wherever you want, I don't care, lay me down on my back, let your hand trail down as you release me, look down on me as I spread my legs, hooking one behind your neck, pulling you down, pulling you in, wanting you in. Do you think about it too?

Make me scream; my constant daydream. As you first gaze down at my naked body, the tenderness, the savageness, both read in your face at the same time. The throbbing, I'm on the verge of begging, make me cum, please please please, send my body quaking, own it, make me yours, let me please you, have your way with me, no no, forget about licking me, we'll get to that later, but right now, impale me, slide that slipery cock all the way in, send my muscles into a vice grip on you, fuck me.

Thats right... FUCK me.

HNT: Who's A Frisky Girl?

2010-08-26T08:07:00.001-04:00

Well I guess I am!

Happy HNT y'all! Check out Osbasso to see who else is playing.

Trust Me - The Reality

2010-08-22T21:47:00.001-04:00

I haven't seen DL for 3 weeks.

Mind you, this was my choice, not his. Not because I'm not a horny bitch, but because I'm apprehensive.
C__ told me a little story she never before shared. Once while she was at DL's house with him and his friends in the room, she was on the phone with me and said my name. From the corner of her eye, DL's best friend smirked. An unusual smirk. And she knew they knew something. So when she revealed this little story, she also told me this: "Just remember, that DL and his best friend tell each other everything. And whatever DL tells him, you can be sure he tells his wife. And you can be sure she'll tell her friends. He's probably told SH everything. So whatever you did, they know."

She knows I've slept with him before I was married. But she doesn't know anything know. told her it's safe, because there's nothing to tell. But in my head, the warning bells went off. I know men well enough. They'll tell everyone about the chick they fucked last night, but love, ah, they never speak of the woman who rules their heart. I had believed in this strongly for two years now. And with a few words from C__, for the first time, I doubted him.

Could he have ever really loved me? I'm not getting all teary eyed over it, but it was the one thing that assured me of his promise of secrecy. After all, we could both be ruined by this. But really, "I" could be ruined by this. He would just look like 'the man'. Was I a trophy fuck? The married woman, friend of the family, the one who would make him look like a stud? Has he showed them the pictures on his phone? The messages sent in the midst of lusty moments? What do they know?

He insists nobody knows when I ask him. He insists they only suspect. He's told me those nights where his best friend said 'I know something's going on, so don't lie to me.' He insists he would never treat me with disrespect. Never ruin my life. Never make me the maughing stock and the ouctast. He would never do these things. Out of love.

I'm not sure what to believe. I needed to think about it for a while. I needed to let it all sink in. Draw back. Evaluate. Reevaluate. And in that time, you better believe I was getting dirty, naughty, absolutely panty-drenching messages. Each time, saying I was busy, or that it was late notice (all of which were true), but each time I couldn't meet him. Wouldn't meet him. Wanted to meet him. But ultimately, not able to fully trust him. I needed time.

And it's killing him. He wants me. Because he can't have me. Because I won't make the time for him. I'm pretty sure this is how he feels, especially when I get messages like "Why you don't wanna fuck me no more?" Yeah, he wants me to give in.

But not just yet. 'Do you trust me?' we've asked each other. And where before, I could say 'with my life, baby,' now, I'm not so sure. Not. Just. Yet.

You Can't Take'em All

2010-08-20T12:17:00.000-04:00

A friend of mine recently said... "I see too many people my own age carrying around baggage and resentment. A lot of it's complacency. I don't want to be one of those people with a lot of regrets at the end of my life, for things I didn't do."

Everyone picks and chooses the risks they're willing to take.
Everyone picks and chooses the risks they're not willing to take.

No one wants to fill a sack of regrets. But it happens. Complacency, that fear of change, can tear down the bests of us, if it only it finds a way in and takes root. Many of us could be capable of great things, but wouldn't it just be easier to stay home and watch tv where the family is happy that I can be mindless with them? Many of us could explore, discover, adventure into sensations that excite our minds, yet that first step out the door is never taken.

I refuse to live a life containing even one regret. I want to look back and say it was worth it. I may not have been able to do everything I've ever wanted, which would take many lifetimes, but at least I took every path that I would have wanted to take - no matter how frightening, how dark, how nerve wracking, how exhausting, or how illogical it may have been. It was always my decision to make. I take calculated risk. No vacation to the rainforest this year? Okay. I'm booking for next year. No point in trying to counter or avoid every single regret if you burn yourself out while trying. You can't take'em all.

If you do have regrets, do not mope over them. Use them. Learn from them. Make a decision in your life to never breathe life into a regret; use it as a milestone for change. Take the lesson and make the hard decisions that make life worth living. Don't ever give yourself the opportunity to make your last words on your deathbed be, " I wish I had...."

Trust Me

2010-08-14T10:16:00.000-04:00

Once again, time for the group post. This month's topic, 'Trust Me' is brought to us by our lovely host, Kimberly. Thank you on both counts! Please visit my fellow bloggers at the bottom of my post and read their take on this month's topic.
___________________________________________________________________________

Sheila saw Santos in the midst of listening to her friends babble, walking towards the gathered post-schoolday crowd of cliques, knocking fists with his best friend who was all but three sidewalk stones away from them. She tried to hide her gaze, but her friends noticed his arrival, and her friends knew how smitten she still was, even after their break up, and they didn't see any harm in her taking him away from his current chick of the week. No one liked that girl anyways. She thought she was better than everyone else. She thought she was better than Sheila. That's the only reason she dated him. That's why the sight of Sheila caused her to stiffen.

Santos kept talking to his friend as that girl siddled up to him and threw an arm around his waste. He gave her a cursory kiss on the cheek and continued his conversation. Surely, the girl could hear Sheila and her friends giggling. But they stopped quickly when the boys came over.

His best friend started talking to her best friend. Shelia didn't notice the rest of the girls fade away, subtly stepping further as they got absorbed in their own conversation. And as Sheila finished answering one of their questions, she noticed Santos's eyes. They were piercing. New girl was flustered, but her embarassment shut her mouth, and she tugged on his jacket to catch his attention, telling him she had to go talk to her friends, who, from what Sheila could see, had scowls painted on their faces that must have matched what that girl was feeling inside.

"Aren't you going to go with your girlfriend?" Sheila asked.

"How you been?"

"Why are you talking to me all of a sudden?"

"You know she means nothing to me."

"Then why are you with her?"

He took one step forward so he had to bend his head slightly to whisper close, "Everybody's watching us. You want to meet me round back? Behind the convenience store. I really want to talk to you."

"Talk, huh?" Sheila smirked. She knew better what Santos's talking was like.

"I'm serious this time; I miss you." His hand brushed against her palm as he drew away. And he was right. She caught the corners of the eyes darting her way like a swarm of gnats. She grabbed her best friend and pretended to walk aside with her, telling her what had happend, and insisting for her to wait until she returned as she disappeared around the side of the building.

He was there. He was waiting, one leg bent, propping him up against the wall. He pushed himself off when he saw her and grabbed her hand and led her to the catwalk. "My friends are waiting for me!" She objected, but he pretended not to hear. His fingers were figity as he held a firm grip and let go just as forcefully when they made it to the other side where houses and a small park lined the street. No one from the school could see them here.

She kept a buffer between them. "Why her?" She asked the question she said she never would. "I know there were others, I don't care about them, but her! You know she's only dating you to throw it in my face."

"Forget about her," he insisted. He took her hands and drew lazy circles, they walked to the park where they sat beside each other in the grass beneath the trees.

"You wanted to talk?" She asked.

"I wanted to know if you miss me as much as I miss you," he replied.

She flung herself down to look up at the leaves against the sky. He followed her lead, but rested on his side so the length of her body was touching his. She drew shallow breaths. He rested his palm on her stomach and she quickly knocked it off. They locked eyes, and he made a second attempt. This time, under her shirt. And as it crept higher, drawing her leg higher, lowering his head yet again to her ear, she heard only two, tiny words...

"Trust me..."

____________________________________
There are more titillating posts written by these talented bloggers. You'll like it. Just try it. Go on now, trust me ;-)

Kimberly
Aurore
The Duchess
Grey
Advizor
The Panserbjørne
bdenied
Ron
Kink Chronicles
Veronica
They Belong To Us

We Don't 'Really' Hate Disney

2010-08-13T18:39:00.001-04:00

There is an agreement amongst most of us bloggers that Disney has brainwashed entire populations to idealize romantic love and monogamous 'happily ever after' marriages. But it's not Disney's fault. They are a company. They look to make a profit. And when it boils down to their market, it's not children who purchase their products. It's parents.

Our parents want only the best for us because they love us. They want someone to love us just as much as they do, if not more. And for daughters, this means they want a Prince Charming who will take care of their every need. Any parent can understand this.

Parents also protect the innocence of the innocents; nurturing their ability to love, to trust, in order for them to better love themselves. I can best think of it this way; which movie would you watch with your 6 year old, 'American Beauty', or 'Sleeping Beauty'?

These are certain truths we learn as we grow. We would live in an anarchical society of psycho/schizo paranoid-delusional-individualists incapable of love, if as children, we ever were to observe, digest, and understand the emotional angst in American Beauty. But with experience, we better appreciate the wreckage in which the characters have driven themselves. Snow White's Evil Queen Stepmother is as evil as it gets when you're a child. At best, her evil required magic. Evil brings unease, unhappiness, and if evil depends on something as surreal as magic, then unhappiness, as with evil, is just as unlikely an experience in the real world.

So we cannot wholeheartedly say that Disney is horrible for planting these ideas in our heads. Yes, don't deny the power they have over children, and yes, they plant these happily-ever-after's, but is it their job to teach us what the world is really like?

Parents. Training us is their responsibility. They allow their children to watch Disney movies, but how many also give the provision that a monogamous relationship with a constant heart is a fairy tale? I don't mean back then, I mean ten years into the future, when dating? Ten years from then, with marriage? Of course they didn't. They still want the best for their children. They want the comfort of knowing their children will not grow up alone. And even if they do mention it, your parents still do not want this for you.

Everyone's heart strays at some time. Everyone's eyes wander sometimes. But we don't talk about it. Because the reality is so much worse than the reflection of the Evil Queen in the magic mirror. It's even worse than Mena Suvari splayed out on a couch naked before her best friend's father. The reality is that love and happiness takes hard work. Once we have it, we continue to want more, we crave more, we are insatiable creatures. And we blame Disney for our misleading us. Maybe this time, we can make sure to instruct our children on the truths of monogamy. If we have the heart.

Twin Dreams For Twin Emotions

2010-08-08T21:40:00.000-04:00

When I'm not 100% in good health, I dream. I've had a few doozies last week.

The first found me escaping some submerged prison where my team and I had to set charges to explode before swimming away underwater in full scuba gear. Thing is, I remember seeing the charges in my hand, night time, and ocean water splashing over it in the moonlight. I remember people shouting warnings. I remember taking a deep breath before going under. I remember H and I nodding before we submerged ourselves to plant another eight charges on an aircraft carrier hull.

The second, last night, was more realistic. See, I haven't spoken to DL since this weekend. He asked to see me Sunday, I said no, he said "Alright, I'll remember this, it's the first time you don't want to fuck me." I just replied that I was a little busy. But more on this in a subsequent post. Back to the dream.

I was with some friends at a club. We were teenagers again in the dream. Everyone who was anyone was at this party. I walked past the DJ booth, and one of DL's friends was DJing (who, in real life, is far from being a DJ). I saw him over the railing and tried to say hello, when a big beast of a man grabbed me from behind and started dancing with me. The DJ friend, who saw, high fived his friend and nodded at me with a smirk and continued DJing. I was furious. I was looking for DL, and then this happened. And though I didn't see him, I heard from my friend that he saw everything, assumed I enjoyed it, and wanted nothing more to do with me. When the club filtered out into the parking lot after, he walked past as I was surrounded by my friends and made a snide remark about how I love to dance with men.

Both dreams left me very unnerved for very different reasons. It's been close to a week, and neither DL nor I have taken the first step to message the other. On the flip side, H and I are feeling very emotionally close, back in a newlywed sort of vibe.

I hope I dream no more this week.

Crafting The Text Message

2010-08-06T11:24:00.001-04:00

A blogger friend is helping me with an issue.

I'm trying to send a the right message to a man whom I've known for years who has expressed some interest on me (I know... another one? But he's not another DL for me). How do I craft the perfect text message? Usually, I have no problem with this. But today, my mind draws a blank.

I tell this blogger that my intention is to keep things on the low, because we have friends in common. There's my reputation to think about, but more than that, there's my husband. Not just him finding out, but I don't want people to feel sorry for him. There's nothing worse I can do to him than cause people to pity him (I know, I know, most people would think the cheating thing may come before pity, but if you ain't doing it, I'm sure that's why you don't understand the hierarchy). But beyond saving face, I need to keep the door ajar, and let him know there is a remote possibility, if he's willing to work for it.

After all the backstory and information, he replies...

"So what we're looking to say is that it's not out of the question, but you're really a good girl, but there's always the chance that... for him, you might be bad."

Gosh. I love it when a man can shut me up ;-)

(...trust me, it doesn't happen often...)

The Ecstasy

2010-08-03T11:15:00.001-04:00

Bernini, an architect largely under the employ of the Catholic Church, designed this famous sculpture, The Ecstasy of Saint Theresa, which resides in the church of Santa Maria della Vittoria, and is based on the miraculous events befalling this Carmelite nun and doctor.

"...I would see beside me, on my left hand, an angel in bodily form…. In his hands I saw a great golden spear, and at the iron tip there appeared to be a point of fire. This he plunged into my heart several times so that it penetrated my entrails. When he drew it out I felt that he took them with it, and left me utterly consumed with a great love for God.… The sweetness caused by this intense pain is so extreme that one can not possibly wish it to cease, nor will one's soul be content with anything less than God.” (Theresa of Avila (1515–1582))

Many others have already discussed in great detail the similarities between religious bliss and orgasm. As far as I am concerned, this is a generally accepted correlation that is fundamental to my case.

Orgasms are elusive. Cumming (or climaxing), for most of us, is not. I pity those who’ve had neither climaxed, I really do. But if you have never climaxed, then to me, it's logically follows that you have probably never had an orgasm. I'm no expert, so please, call me out if you can prove me wrong.

What is the difference between the climax and the orgasm, you ask?

Anyone can cum. The orgasm is a different beast altogether. Sure, you can paint stripes on a horse and call it a zebra, but in the end, it's still a horse. Climaxing is the body’s reaction to the act of ejaculating, while an orgasm is a bodily reaction including, but not restricted to, the act of ejaculating, so equating the climax to an orgasm follows the horse-zebra fallacy. A skilled man can have me begging for either - but chances are, he'll have an easier time making me climax than he would bringing me to orgasm. I know what is required for me to cum vaginally and I set the plan in motion. Tick all five boxes on the checklist, and hurrah! You've got me twitching and gushing. Symptoms of the climax are clear cut for both men and women - blood rushes to the organs - you feel the muscles contracting. Your body centres at the groin. You shoot fluids, and, if the mood suits, let a roar of accomplishment/relief soar up from the bottom of your gut up through your lips. You get the idea. It's physically discernible. It is the cumulative (heehee, cum-ulative) goal of all procreative effort. It is the physiological ends to the reproductive need. You bust, you're done. Have a smile and a smoke.

But an orgasm this ain't.

Though I'm attuned to my body's climaxing needs, I'm an idiot when it comes to the orgasm. I'm sure I've had fewer than most, but I've had enough to know there are varying degrees of the orgasm, and I have a good idea of what ties them all together. There is no centering of pressure or heat that ebs and flows - instead, there is a full body reverb that ceases independent muscle contractions. It envelopes you. While the climax projects and shoots you upward, the orgasm suspends you in a way that allow your nerves focus inwards rather than outwards.

It is the transcendental incarnation of the climax.

Not only are the symptoms markedly different, so are the drivers. We have a physiological need to climax. We procreate. We have a basic drive to fuck and cum. The female climax facilitates the male climax (in some cases, her efforts are not required), and the male climax ends in conception. It's feral. It's base. It's animalistic. But it is here where humans differ. Consider the rabbit, mounting another rabbit, jiggy-jiggy-jiggy ….aaaaand dismount. Danger may be nearby. If the rabbit were to indulge in prolonged pleasure, the wolf is going to come eat her. And not in the 'good' way, either. Distraction equals death out there in the cruel world. But humans evolved. We allow ourselves certain indulgences. We developed a culture; food source preferences, embraced technology, developed continuous knowledge and learning through education, and developed arts forms to entertain ourselves. The threat of being killed or eaten now marginal, people could leisurely explore each others (and their own) bodies beyond the need to conceive. There is a human predilection for pleasure. It was only a matter of time before the art of carnality took the body to higher heights.

The sentient beings’ original design never intended for it to copulate long enough to experience the orgasm; yet here we are. So which do you think came first; the earth shattering bliss of an orgasm, or the ecstasy of the Almighty's love? Look at how the angel holds her, and though she rests on the cliff, the way her arm and leg are draped give the illusion of weightlessness - as though the angel is lifting her without really touching her, and we see absolutely no tension in his arm. How is it that we, the uncanonized, are able to relate to the "intense pain is so extreme that one can not possibly wish it to cease", if not through the most innate and naturally occurring miracles of the body which we call the orgasm?

Don't get me wrong. I love the involuntary grip on your shaft as I feel shakily weak as I cum. I want it all the time. But to blind me in the rapture of an ephemeral orgasm is to consume me in complete euphoria. One that cannot be recreated through conditionally parametered procedure. Which is why so few will ever experience a bliss akin to the ecstasy of Saint Theresa.

HNT: Black and White Series - Through The Window

2010-07-29T06:09:00.000-04:00

And the final shot in this series...

Happy HNT y'all! Check out Osbasso to see who else is playing.

And Behind the Family's Back

2010-07-28T19:31:00.000-04:00

Did he walk in to see me naked on the couch?

No.

Come on, I wasn't sitting around waiting for the man. I was at my friend's place, preparing for a big long weekend, but when he messaged that he was coming over, yeah, I headed home. I left the door open just like he asked. When he walked in, he caught sight of me at the bedroom door, still wearing my yellow summer dress, in the middle of taking off my earings. I can't remember who rushed who, or who's hands were pulling aside the other's clothes, but I do remember me taking his chain and putting it around my neck. I do remember him on the couch, me, riding him, and unlike the previous night, I knew I was getting this cock, and he felt generous, with that telling half smile, raising up his hips slightly, in that way that, as he pumps into me, hitting my spot, repeatedly, without time to recover, making me cum three times in a row. Fuck, he's amazing.

We cuddle and I explain everything that happened the night before. Not that I had to, but because I wanted to. I would never dream of telling all this to H. H would get angry, blame me for bringing it upon myself, and not want to touch me. He would also harbour this little gem to turn around and hurl it at me one day in the future. I have no incentive to tell H. Nothing constructive can come of it. But I WANTED to tell DL. And I told him everything. How aggressive he was. How determined he was. How long he had wanted me. And I told him that I called upon DL's name in my efforts in getting him to stop. Told him that I asked Islandboy if he didn't know how much DL liked me.

"Why did you say that?" DL asked, "Don't tell people that I like you." he says. I give him the inquisive eyebrow. "I have to keep my player status up," he smiles.

"What the fuck... seriously. I put myself out on a limb by telling people about us. But if you don't have me like that, then I won't say anything. I'll know you won't hold me down."

"I'm kidding."

"You don't seem too bothered by this."

"What do you want me to do? You want me to confront him? The man's already on a plane!"

"Why do you think I waited to tell you until he was on a plane! I don't want you to do anything. I just wanted you to know what happened. But if you don't care that all these men that you know trouble me, and if calling out your name is going to stop them, and you don't want me to say your name..."

"He's wants a bit of foreign ass before he heads home, that's all. And you said no. Nothing happened, did it? And don't think things don't bother me. Just because I don't show it, doesn't mean I don't feel it."

I know it doesn't mean he does feel it, either. But I know how well this man keeps his emotions masked. But I taunt him. "...because if all I am to you is a hot fuck..."

Now we can't help but both break out into laughter.

If this was H? Well, maybe I would be getting divorce papers in the mail...

Keepin It In The Family

2010-07-26T23:55:00.000-04:00

Hard to believe, but this is all true.

C__'s cousin (let's call him IslandBoy, for the sake of convenience) is visiting from the islands. He comes up every few years, and the last time I saw him was the fateful night DL and I spirited away in the corner of the club and finally got the ball rolling on this affair. His girlfriend was here then; an absolutely gorgeous girl. Very nice as well. But she wasn't here this time. It was his brother's dying wish that the family see to it that IslandBoy not marry her, and C__, their closest cousin, devistated by the death, made his wish her mission.

Friday, C__ and I took him barhopping. At the end of the night as I dropped them off at the house, she wanted to cook (this is 3.30am). We hung out for a bit, and when he left the room for a moment, C__ secretly told me how intimidated his girlfriend was by me. That I was not supposed to be out with them tonight. That they lied. That she is insecure with me around. This took me by complete shock. "But why?" I ask, "she's gorgeous..." We clipped our conversation short as he returned. DL calls. He asks if I'm there alone with the two of them. "He likes you you know," he says. "A little bit," I tease. DL gets in a huff and lets me go. Soon, C__ went upstairs to bed, and as I was about to leave, he stopped me.

He threw me on the couch and pinned me beneath him. From rough to gentle in a heartbeat, an unfortunate weekness of mine common to most islandboys, and damnit, why did he have to be good at it.

He sucked on my neck, and my instinct leading me to think about bruising, I push him off, swing my leg around, and before he knows it, I'm straddling him. He wants me badly. I see it in his eyes. I play along. My telling, seductive eyes tease him. "You love her?" I ask about his girlfriend. He shrugs. "You gonna marry her?" I ask. He manages a half nod through his heavy and stifled breathing. "If you love your girl, if you're going to spend the rest of your life with her, then why are you here trying to fuck me?"

Oh, he was so hard under me, and how could a girl, when faced with such tempting wood beneath her, help from teasingly grind into him slowly enough to make his toes curl?

"I know," I said, "I'm a horrible tease..." as I bounced on top of him, as he told me how many years he's been watching me, wanting me, and how he almost has me... "but I made a promise," I say, "and I intend to keep it."

His response? He grabs me by the hair and throws me face down into the couch, trying to snake his fingers under my top, pulling me into him.

I said, "look, I understand that you don't know my husband, so I can see how the weight of that can't materialize with you. But you know DL, and you know he likes me." He nodded between thrusts. "You know how I feel about him, right?" He nodded once more. "...and he's not gonna like this..."

Thankfully for the whisps of will I have left and my tank set of thighs, I swivel myself around and out from under him. "You cheat on her. You're clearly not faithful. Think about why you're with her." And with that, and a plea from him that I don't tell C__ about any of this, I left.
_______________________________

It's 5am by the time I get home. I had messaged H earlier, saying I was dropping them home. That was close to 4am. When I open the bedroom door, he's livid. He yells at me, and I leave the room to go wash off my makeup. Not wanting more confrontation, I go lay down in the living room. He bursts out of the room, grabs his keys and a few other things, and heads out the door. I call after him, begging him to come back, to say something, but he says nothing. He doesn't return my phone calls either. My first instinct was to call DL, but I realized that was a bitch move. My husband left, so what, ring up my boyfriend? Nah, I had to get through this without him. So I called my parents.

"I think H just left me," I say to my father. He can't stand to hear me cry. He says he's coming over, but I insist that I'm coming home to them.

A few pills, some water, and a good nap later, I wake to a brighter day. I was actually okay. I came to terms with the state of affairs and the need to carry on with my life. The need to pick myself up and move on. I called a few times, but no answer. I decide I'm going to call his mother, just to make sure he's there and he's safe, but then, it occurs to me. maybe my father is right and he didn't leave me - maybe he really was just so upset he left to blow off steam and he really was too angry to say anything at all to me. I call the condo. A groggy H picks up.

He's confused when I ask him if he wants me to stay at my parents for him to get his things. He thinks I'm kicking him out. I think he's walking out on me. Talk about confusion. He asks me to come home. So I have breakfast at my parents, thank them, tell my dad he was right (I'm sure he loved that), and went home and curled up beside my husband. And we slept, and slept and slept. We stayed home. We were emotionally drained. I didn't tell him anything about C__'s. He was just upset that I didn't tell him that I was stayed after dropping her off. It was an hour for crying out loud - you want me to report my hourly whereabouts? He knew where I was. I think he really was starting to think I was fucking around or drunk.

Yesterday (Sunday) he left to pick up SD for the week (Which he would stay at his mother's). And DL starts creeping in with a text message, a phone call, and eventually, a visit. And when he sends a message saying "I expect to walk in and see you naked and playing on the couch...", well, that is something I'll have to cover in my next post.

HNT: Black and White Series - Summer Seaside Silhouette

2010-07-21T22:30:00.009-04:00

When the summer sun beams on the shore, looking out on the water, that is freedom. It colours the landscape in a crisp blur of colour. And I melt into the warming bliss.

Happy HNT y'all! Check out Osbasso to see who else is playing.

He Can't Take It Anymore

2010-07-20T22:15:00.003-04:00

Friday, DL wanted to get together. But I was at a friends after work, H met us all there, and I left them (still drinking & having fun) at 4am - tired and with a headache. H was going back to his mother's, but I had so much fun with him, and I had spent the night with him. I hadn't seen him in a while; he was with SD at his mom's. I missed him. But didn't mean I didn't want to see DL - I was just so tired.

Saturday, I attended a friends wedding solo - an ex co-worker,and my ex-collegues were at my table. On the way home after the church ceremony , I stopped by C__'s b/c I was to meet up with them later that night since her cousin was visiting from abroad. But she wasn't home. SH and his uncle were there. He insisted I stay a while - they were watching a cricket game in the field beside their backyard. SH called one of his boy's and deliberately spoke so I could hear, mentioning that DL was going with the rest of the boys to another party. I didn't say anything, but before going to the reception, I called DL, who again, wanted to see me later that night. I told him what his brother was saying. I knew there was a chance of seeing him, but nothing was for sure. So to avoid the games, I told him "your brother deliberately said so I would hear that you were going to X. We're going to Y. Now, I don't know where you're gonna end up, but I want you to know where I'm gonna be. So you make whatever decision you want."

So after the reception, I arrive back at C__'s house, and she's still away dropping of my Goddaughter at the sitter, but guess who's sitting in the back with SH? Yup, he knew where I would be and he changed all the boys plans (everyone wanted to go to X), and they were all here, drinkin in the back. I go outside, chat a little with everyone, and ask SH if I can go upstairs to change. Eventually, DL tells SH he's going to put the dog in his cage, but SH says "Naw, you don't go in there!" he knows his doggish brother wants to come up, lol, and he does! But I shoo him out, but not before he yanks down my top and sucks on my breast for all of two seconds.

We all go out after C__ gets home. I do my best to not pay DL *too* much attention, but I guess it was all in vain. At one point in the night, one of the boys (SH and DL's friend, I mean, these boys are all really good friends) chats with me near the dancefloor, which is cool. Smalltalk. Just as I would with anyone else. After a while, he tries to grab my ass. DL's best friend sees, and also sees me knock away his hand and scold him. I immediately tell DL. I soon tell C__, and so my bases are covered. As long as DL knows. I find it cute when I watch him checking out girls, leaning in to me and C__ saying 'don't hate!' but we laugh; we're all having fun. I like to see him having a good time. It's great to see everyone having a good time.

After the party, we head back to the house, where we want to have a few more drinks. A few people killed the vibe. His boys pack up and say they're going back to the other side of town, and he, the only other driver, tells them he's going to see his ex, who lives closeby. Now, I'm having a beer with C__, her brother, and her cousin, all of us leaning up on DL's car. The boys are across the street. And I catch snippits of the converation... "She can't hear us," and "whaddya mean, one woman man?"

Eventually, the boys leave, everyone else goes into the house, and DL and I are in the driveway. He asks about his boy grabbing my ass, saying that, because he stayed back, that everyone knows we're fucking, and I cross examine him, eventually saying I gotta go in or they WILL know that we are fucking. I go in. He follows, but tells C__'s cousin he's gotta go see his ex. I tease and say he better hurry up then. We have to stay with everyone for a while, at least. But he leaves, and I know he's waiting for me on my street. Soon, I tell C__ I'm getting sleepy (she's falling asleep herself), it's 4am, and I'm on my way home.

We go upstairs. "We can't keep doing this," he says, "everyone knows we should be together. My whole family knows you should be mine. My close boys know something's up. You know what they said? They said 'watch how she's leaning up on your car, and you're going to go off to see your ex? You're stupid DL, that girl wants you.' They see how you watched me in the club with that big grin, and when we were at the house and you went inside, they saw me watch you walk in. They see the look on our faces. They know. You know what my best friend just told me? He said 'I don't know exactly what is going on, but I know something is going on. I'm not stupid. Just don't lie to me.' They all can't understand why I haven't fucked you. Why I haven't even tried to fuck you."

"Do you defend me?" I asked.

"Of course I do, I always do. I say you're married, you're a good girl, you's SR's godmother, all of that" (mind you, he's never met a girl he won't joke about running through, so I think that him speaking of me with respect shows them a level of care he doesn't typically show to girls). "I don't want to lie anymore. Not to anyone. I don't want to hide this. I want you."

It continued along these lines, but then, somehow, I tell him I wanna go shower but end up sitting on his lap in a reverse straddle and in my skirt, he wraps his arm around me and makes me cum, twice, in quick succession. A feat only he can pull off. He drives me absolutely wild. From sweet, to ravenous. I want him. And then my phone goes off. It's a text message. It's H. "Are you still out?"

It's 5am.

I message, "I just got in." Next message to him, "did you go out tonight?"

No answer. I can see that he received on the first, but didn't acknowledge the second. He hasn't checked or responded. Silence. Is he on his way home? Is he at his mothers? Where is he? Why is he up?

I tell DL, who says he's gonna go. It's the safest thing. But I tell him, 'this is why we need an alternative place,' I say, because I can't tell H not to come home, ever; it's HIS home too. DL knows this. But he's hard, and I can't stand the thought of him leaving without cuming, I so want him to cum, and even as he's ready to put on his shoes, I pull him aside and get on my kneees and take his cock in my mouth and get to work. He's succumbing against his will, when we're both on high alert, he doesn't want to give in to pleasure. There is a wall clinking sound that almost jerks us back to reality, but I pull him back into us, and pull him down on top of me, and he wants it so bad, he moans low as he finally enters me, allows himself to do nothing but fuck me, he's so ready to cum, and oh, he feels so good, and it's rough, and fast, and urgent, and the culmination of the desire building all weekend is worth it for this very moment. I love how he moves. He pulls out and comes all over me, I love how it feels, and we're both spent. We can both see that we both needed this. And we both know it's not enough - we'll need more again. And sometime soon. Why do we want each other so much? Why can't we be satiated with each other? How does desire only build and build higher over time?

Argh! Frustrating. Especially since H was only startled awake, wondering why I didn't message that I was home. I coulda been with DL. I call him when I'm out of the shower, just to make sure he got home alright, and he did. And then we go to sleep in our separate beds.

But I'm in the glow of sex and cumming and the shower. And I know he's feeling the same calm. I'm not sure what anyone else thinks. Why we're a hot topic of interest. How everyone can see our lust. Is it all in our heads? And while he's in my arms, nothing else in the world matters. Until my husband comes home.

I think DL and I need to have a serious talk. I know he doesn't want to marry me. I know he wants me for himself. I know I'm not leaving H. I know the feelings DL and I share are never going to die.

He can't take it? Hell... I can't kick this addiction.

Off Limits

2010-07-18T23:00:00.002-04:00

I'm sorry to all players for my delayed group post. I've had a death in the family and have been undergoing severe lack of privacy to even view my blog, but I'm back now. Incredible thanks again to Duchess, for hosting this months group efforts and for being patient with me...
_______________________________________

He was sleeping when she opened the door. Her eyes were puffy. She insisted she was only checking to see if Trent was in here, but when he saw her, he knew she was hoping he would be awake. He feigned sleep to see what she would do, but when she headed back to the door, he gave a startled shake, as though she had just woken him.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, "I didn't mean to..."

"Bah, I was having trouble sleeping all night, don't worry. Is everything okay?" he asked.

She seemed apprehensive and he noticed tears in the corner of her eye.

"Come here," he waved her over. "Trent hasn't come home yet, has he?"

She shook her head and rushed to his shoulder and burst out into tears.

"Awe, don't cry. I know my cousin, and he'll come home." He rubbed her back until the sobs subsided. Very slowly. And he felt her back stiffen. And she didn't pull away...

_______________________________________
Check out the limits crossed by these other talented bloggers:

The Duchess
Advizor
Ronjazz
Gray
SpringFlower
Panserbjorn

HNT: Black and White Series - Silhouette

2010-07-15T06:18:00.004-04:00

Sometimes the simple lines of a silhouette can be beautiful. I'll post a little more detail next week so you can decide which is best.

Happy HNT y'all! Check out Osbasso to see who else is playing.

Ends Don't Justify The Means

2010-07-10T10:45:00.000-04:00

DL messaged me continuously all night to meet me, that he wanted me. I had already arrived home from the bar, was alone and in bed because H was staying at his mom's tonight, but I replied that I was still at a friends house, very tipsy, and likely not going home where H was waiting for me.

Yes, I lied. Did I do it because I am being a good girl? Not really. Guilt? A little. I had some pretty satisfying sex twice yesterday already; and for whatever warped reason, I rarely feel comfortable sleeping with two men in the same day without either knowing. But mostly, I did it because I want my Saturday for myself. A slow, lazy Saturday where I can have a coffee, homemade hummus and pita, and write.

Pass up sex? What? Topaz, is it true?

Yes. Even a sex-kitten like me needs some 'me' time now and again.

HNT: Black and White Series - Working Girl

2010-07-07T23:35:00.001-04:00

I got the job! I start next week - do you think this blazer would look nice for my first day?
;-)

Check out O's for a treat and to see who else is playing...

Happy HNT y'all!

They're Not Jitters, They're Wedding 'Chills'

2010-07-02T11:05:00.000-04:00

Do you remember this post? No? Of course not, because it was posted back when my few readers never commented. Not that they're visiting by the droves now. But that aside, please revisit that post to understand my current enthusiasm.

...aaaaand... we're back.

So when SRS said how different from mine he wanted his own marriage to be, I was angry. As though he assumed I had failed. He had the impression that true love makes a successful marriage. Ah, the folly of the innocents. Like me, hardheaded and stubborn, he would have to learn this lesson for himself.

On his pending engagement, I told him only this: "you're my boy, I love you and I'll support you. If she makes you happy, that's all that matters. And if you ever need a shoulder, or someone to talk to, remember, YOU are my friend. I'm always there for YOU." You see, he never really loved her - but she grew on him. Kind of like a scab. But he grew fond of her, she met all the family criteria, and it seemed like a good fit. In my mind? Immanent failure. In his? Soul mate. I would never say it, but I knew, one day...

SRS knows of my 'friend'. I did admit to him that a man caught my heart (hard to play off the goofy glaze that my close friends know so well), but I never admitted to the physical side. The point is SRS knew I was not 100% in love with H and he assumed he would never let happen to him what had happened to me. He felt he was better than that. Or so I thought, until last night.

I went over last night to help him with wedding chores. Downstairs apart from everyone, folding programs, he mentioned the time I had 'my friend'. "Well, there's someone else," he tells me.

I KNEW IT! MOTHERFUCKER I KNEW IT! I KNEW ONE DAY HE WOULD CAVE AND FUCK AROUND!

"Oh, really?" I smirk. He knows that I saw this coming a mile away - we're both dogs like that. How do you think I get along so well with the boys? He tells me all about her. How they met, how they grew close. How he fucked her and where he fucked her. And how she wanted him to break of the wedding and she would leave her husband. How they wanted to run off together. Yeah. All of that. Even how he feels like 'she's the one'.

He likens his situation to mine, which I tell him not to do. It's his own, unique situation. "I have twenty years of history with my friend", I say, "you're infatuated, and your feelings for women, every woman you've ever been with, are fleeting. They will fade. At least with your fiance, you know she'll take all your shit, and be waiting for you to fall in love with her again. This new one seems like she'd be ready to bounce the minute you stop showing interest."

He agrees. It's true. But he's so wrapped up in this new chick. Not only that, the rest of our boys, whom I don't get to see on a one-on-one basis much anymore, are just as doggish as they were before marriage. One of them bought SRS a blow job for his stag. Apparently, they know which strip clubs these services can be purchased from. They. All. Fuck. Around.

Ah, I miss the days we could hang out, just the boys, and knock about stories of which girl they ran through, how they almost got caught, and which man I left in a hot mess. Those single days were fun . When the love of our lives was just on the horizon and we could chase tail, break hearts, and enjoy the attentions of the opposite sex. Seems like we all still do it. Only now, preserving our spouses honour and public respect, we all keep it on the low.

SRS's fling is over, but these things have a way of springing back up, as I've cautioned him. I knew his decision to marry was impetuous. And I hate to say, but I'm a little happy he's brought himself down a notch and sees how easy it is to slip inside desire. I'm happy he came to me about this situation, which we talked about for hours. And I'm also happy that he has no idea of the extent to which I'm embroiled.

He's angry with himself though. He's feeling for her. Almost falling for her. He wants to cut her off, but she's all up in his head. "I should be more like you. More cold. You don't get all clingy. See, you aren't like most girls. If I were you, I'd have fucked a hundred men already!" he flails his arms to emphasize the army of cock I should have already run through. Hold up, wait... cold?

But he's right. Before H, I've never really cared enough about a man since highschool (yes, even DL, whom I've always liked and wanted to fuck, never realized 'love' with him until after my engagement). SRS redefines 'cold' as 'not soft' - few men have really ever gotten under my skin. For all the emotion you read in me here, how is it that I come across the player that my boys aspire to be? What happened to my heart? Why am I so cold?

...and why am I proud that my boy is unfaithful?

HNT: Black and White Series - Strewn

2010-07-01T00:54:00.001-04:00

I've always found the sight of hair strewn across the sheets as a hint of the carnal aftermath...

Happy HNT y'all! Check out Osbasso to see who else is playing.

The Jerrycan Conundrum

2010-06-28T01:10:00.000-04:00

4am.
No vacancy.
Empty tank.

DL jumps in and we head to the gas station. A man about our age approaches with a jerrycan conveniently in hand. DL gets out of the car to see what he wants.

"Do you have a dollar?" he asks, "my car ran out down the street and anything you can spare would help..."

"Sure," I tell him, "give me a second." From the other side of the car, DL, with his usual freight train delicacy, says "he didn't run out of gas! Look at him, he's a crackhead!"

I smile at the guy, decked out in his ghettoness, but clean, fresh haircut, no shakes, no figitiness, clear skin. "He's no crackhead," I say with a smile as I hand him a dollar. Not that I believe for a minute he's asking for gas money. He thanks me profusely and we head to another nearby hotel.

"You know there's no car waiting for gas," DL says.

"I know."

"So why give him drug money? That's disgusting."

"We don't know what it's for. But I'm a good Hindu."

"Yeah, karma. I know what you're trying to do."

"That man didn't show up for no reason. God put me in that situation. And it was dharma (duty) for me to be kind. I don't know this man or of his intentions. I don't expect to be rewarded for the kindness, but if I was mean to him, regardless of what he's upto at four in the morning, then surely, that will come back to plague me. I'm doing just as much wrong as he is. But if I were to punish and judge him, it only follows that I too will eventually be punished and judged."

"Just because you did what you think is right, you can't possibly believe that it makes up for all the wrong we're doing. If you think that absolves you of all this, then you've got issues."

Do we look for absolution? Do we justify our actions? Do we rationalize our desires? Do we try to be honourable in all other areas of our lives because, deep down, we know we're depraved for basking in our lecherous lust? One reason I love DL: he never sugar-coats it. Every word from his lips is honest truth. Even when he whispers 'I love you' before we fall asleep.

HNT: Black and White Series: Impatient

2010-06-23T22:30:00.012-04:00

This is the way I stretch out on the bed when I want my my man to pay me some attention.
Without words, they catch his eye
...I'm waiting...

(I liked the effect I used over the photo - don't know if it suits everyone, but I wanted to get a little artsy)

Happy HNT y'all! Check out Osbasso to see who else is playing.

Part 5: Ain't Nobody's Business But Mine And My Baby's...

2010-06-20T21:25:00.002-04:00

DL came over the next day. In fact, he came over last night as well. He wanted to come over again this evening, and though I would love to have him beneath me, I'm dead tired. Last night, we chatted on and off until 3am when I got home, he arrived at 4am, and we didn't go to sleep until 5.30. Let me rephrase that; he made me cum over and over again, and he held off the entire time in a multitude of positions. The sex that leaves you drenched in each others sweat and relishing every drop. The abandon that has you wanting to lick and bite and slap every inch of skin. The naughtinesss that makes you want to interrupt the fucking to taste your juices on his cock. And he refused to cum. He fucked me and made me beg him to fuck me. He grabbed handfuls of my hair when he was behind me and held me down by the throat when he was on top of me. There was nothing relaxed about him.

And when he finally came, mmmmm.... my stomach, my breasts, my neck, my hair, and I loved the feel of it, the unending jets of it, and he loved it too.

Eventually, when the sun came up, and we were ready to sleep, in each others arms, we spoke of many things. One of those things was about his brother. "He asked me if I took you home after the BBQ." It was true, SH had left us, the last two people, outside by my car. DL, of course, told him otherwise. The park, after all, is not home ;-) But SH pressed him further, asking if he's fucking me, knowing that he wants to, but wanting to know if his brother is nailing Topaz. "It's alright, you can tell me," he says. But DL's not stupid. "We chatted for a bit by the car, and then she went home," he told SH.

And SH? Did he say anything else about me?

"He blasted our Cousin, said 'What the fuck do you think you're doing? Topaz is family!' and our Cousin was tripping over himself with apologies."

Hmmmm. Family. Pseudo-Sister-In-Law? I jest... but it does get to him, since earlier he had all the family, including C__ to the house for the Grandmother's birthday. "You wanted me there?" I had teased, and he admitted, "a little bit."

"You should have told me how you felt back then!"

"I did."

"You should have made me listen!"

"You think I'm gonna care to beg for your attention? Ha! You were too busy fucking everybody..."

"Right, yes, fucking everybody. You should have come up to the room when you used to stay over with C__."

"That time, with my ex, if you had only asked me to come upstairs I wouldn't have cared what happened to him, I would have fucked you til your eyes rolled back in your head..."

"My mom told me not to trouble you, you had a boyfriend..."

"You shouldn't have listened to your mother so much..."

"If I had known all the things you could do for me? If I had any idea of what you were really like? Can you imagine us, back then with energy for days, mmmm mmmm! We'd sport every night! I'd take you everywhere with me, I'd parade you everywhere. Fuck anyone who wants the women to stay home, you're with me, always! You should be with me right now. You should have always been with me."

"We're here now," I say.

"No one knows where I am," he chuckles. "And this..." he slides his fingers down inside me, "this I want ev-er-y night..."

Sing it Mikey...

"Give It To Me/
Give Me Some Time/
Come On Be My Girl/
I Wanna Be With Mine/
Ain't Nobody's Business/
Ain't Nobody's Business But Mine And My Baby's..."