Narrated by Okusan Bitch

Transcribed by sss

 

You & I are sitting on a leather couch at the Lounge. I am wearing a leopard print bra and panty set.  You are wearing that cute blue and white baby-doll with the matching knickers. A man sits down on the other side of me. He is wearing a black leather vest, held closed with two nipple clamps on a thin silver chain. He has on a loin cloth like I imagine a cave man would wear. This man is a stranger to me, but he has a nice smile. He is not fat or overly muscular, but he is a large man. He seems to occupy a lot of space. His clear blue eyes never leave mine when he introduces himself and I get butterflies in my tummy.

 

He tells me I have nice breasts and asks if  he can touch them. Of course I say yes and when he takes one of them in his hand it looks small! This surprises me. My breasts have never looked small. They almost disappear in his grasp when he squeezes them with both hands and my nipples stiffen against the roughness of his palms. He takes one breast in each hand, puts his face in between and gives them a whisker rub.

 

When Whiskers kisses me he is firm and confident.  Being married to a sissy has many advantages, but ‘manly’ kisses are not one of them. I like how Whiskers kisses me and the way our tongues tango.

 

No sooner have you removed my panties then Whiskers hand is there; stroking my lips, spreading my wetness, tapping at my entrance. I look  and see you kneeling between his legs. You have removed his loin cloth. His semi-erect cock lies against his inner thigh and you are staring at it. We have often talked about this moment of truth. Would you really be able to take another mans cock in your mouth? I do not want the connection with this man to be broken, but I silently implore you to do this for me. You place your hands on his thighs and Whiskers slips one thick finger inside of me. I hold my breath as you lean forward and tentatively lick the tip of  his cock. Whiskers thumb starts to circle my clit. Your hands stay planted firmly on Whiskers thighs as you lick your first penis. Up and down you lick the underside of his cock. You flick his bulbous crown with your tongue and he begins to thicken and thicken and thicken. Whiskers cock appears to be about the same length as yours, but it is the girth that has me spellbound. I have never seen a cock so thick and I wonder how or even if I will be able to accommodate him.

 

A single drop of pre-cum appears and you carefully remove it with the tip of your tongue. Whiskers lifts me onto his lap. He kisses me while you arrange our naughty bits. You slide the head of his cock back and forth across my clit, preparing me for the descent. I think perhaps this is just as well. Left to my own devices, I may have chickened out or, more likely, tried to impale myself upon this massive tool and split myself in half.

 

Once the tip of his cock is inside me you keep one hand on the small of my back and the other hand greases the pole. With your guidance I  bob up and ever so slowly down. Whiskers keeps still and silent. I moan and my pussy groans in protest, but I am determined to engulf this mammoth cock. I am unable to kiss. I can barely feel the hands upon me. All sensation is focused on my cunt as I am stretched wider and wider.

 

I know that I am at the base of his shaft when Whiskers sighs and you whisper, “wow”. I am stretched so wide that I am unable to squeeze his cock with my cunt muscles. I do not want to lift myself to far up for fear that I will not be able to get back down or worse, that I will pop off the top like a cork out of a champagne bottle. All I can do is rock back and forth while Whiskers gently thrusts.

 

I am vaguely aware that there are people watching us. I look and you are beside us on the couch.  A man is standing in front of you. I do not know if you have summoned this man or he is there of his own accord. I do not look up at this man and all I see of him is his erect penis. It is very long and very thin and has a sharp hook towards his flat stomach. This time you do not hesitate. You grab the Thin Man’s ass, pull him towards you and take his cock into your mouth. I am very pleased that you have taken to cock sucking so readily. You try and take in more of him, but with that hook at the end it looks like it would be more likely to pop out your nose than go down your throat.

 

The thin man steps behind me.  You spread my ass cheeks apart and apply cold lube to my tight brown button. Whiskers & I stay still while the Thin Man enters me with one, very long continuous push. Who ever wrote the limerick, ‘long and thin slips right in, but doesn’t please the ladies’ did not know what I know. My mind turns to mush as these two men find a rhythm and proceed to fuck me senseless.

 

The Thin Man whispers filth into my ear while Whiskers squeezes my tits and bites my nipples. I look over to see if you are enjoying the show and you are standing on the couch beside us. You have one knee behind Whiskers head and for the first time since we  joined the Lounge your cock is fully erect.

 

I am more familiar with this cock than any I have ever known. This cock has given me untold pleasures. I truly love this cock above all others. I want to inhale it, devour it, swallow it whole. I take it into my mouth. You grab the back of my head and start to thrust. Your balls slap against my chin as you fuck my throat.

 

The destruction is complete.  I am slut. I am whore. I am nothing but lizard-brain and fuck-holes. The three of you move as one; harder, faster. I feel you thicken and lengthen inside of me. In my minds eye all three cocks are straining towards the very centre of my being. I can see them getting closer and closer to each other and when the tips of all three cocks finally touch, they explode. They fill me up. They tear me down. I try to scream, but I am dumb. The roar of men deafens me. The explosion of colour blinds me. Like the Phoenix I burst into flames and then I am reborn.

 

 

Hugs,

♀

Jennifer emailed me on Tuesday:

 

Hi

Deviant Dining is this Thursday.

I am wondering if you would like to be one of a few people I have asked to do live erotic nude readings through dinner. 

You would be expected to arrive coiffed in an alluring way, then once people start eating randomly each person asked to do so will stand up and walk over to the bondage chair.  There you will slowly take off your clothes, and sit down and do a reading of a piece of erotica that will be stimulating for all listening.  The piece should be 3-5 minutes long and you would need to find your own piece/s to read.  Self written, inter-net find, from a book etc.
You could strip down to the nude, or to a nice pair of silky panties and stockings. 

Are you up for this?
Let me know.

Jennifer

 

I said yes and immediately started fretting. Not about what I would wear…I had a brand new pair of very pretty knickers that I was saving for a Lounge event. That along with garter and black stockings is what I planned to strip down to and I wasn’t particularly concerned about that part of it.

 

I was worried about what I would read and how it would be received.  A lot of what is written here is anecdotal and I wanted to tell a story not just relate a sexy occurrence or fantasy. I hadn’t realized it before, but most of my erotic fiction is written from the female point of view. That’s just fine when the audience is reading the story themselves. Hopefully it’s written well enough that they hear and see the female protagonist. But if the audience is sitting in front of me…I just didn’t think pretty knickers would be enough to make a feminine character believable. In the end I picked this poem and this short story, both written from a male point of view.

 

I have a tendency to shake and the more stressed I am, the shakier I get. I was the second reader of the night and by the time I got undressed, I was having a hard time holding the paper still enough to read. I haven’t had much public speaking experience. I toasted that bride and this bride and made them both cry. Besides that, no, not much.

 

It’s a funny thing…this blog is quite popular so I knew that a lot of people had read the pieces I’d chosen. I’d had nice comments about them so I guess I knew that people liked them, but still I was really nervous about putting my voice to my words.

 

So, how did it go? Well, nobody boo’d or threw things at me. Is that what I was worried would happen? No, I guess not. I wasn’t expecting the applause and all the really nice things people said to me. It felt good.

 

When I got home from work the next morning there was a tweet from Jennifer:

You were fucking amazing this evening – I’m really proud of you!

 

I like Jennifer. She makes me happy.

 

Cheers,

♀ & sss

Maybe you’re fortunate enough (or have a lover skilled enough) to orgasm on demand, but as for the rest of us mere mortals…

 

 I know there are women who can orgasm quickly and often so I suppose odds are good that sometimes their partner comes at the same time they do, but seriously, isn’t it just the greatest thing ever when you’re both able to come at the same time?

 

♀ usually wants me to come first. The ‘sissy’ reason is that way she can tease me about my inability to satisfy her while I use my fingers or a toy to help her have a big O after I’m done, but it’s also a turn-on for her to feel my excitement grow inside of  her and she really likes to play in my cum once I’m finished. In fact sometimes getting me to come (something she is very good at) is enough of a turn-on for her to try and have an orgasm even if she hadn’t planned on it before. The downside of being conditioned  to come quickly is that it is very difficult to hold back on those occasions when she wants me to last until she’s done.

 

We hadn’t fucked in a couple of days and for about a week before that, every time we’d had sex that’s all it was, sex….lots of trash talk and button pushing, but not a lot of passion. We are a couple who needs the connection of real love-making on a regular basis or else we get off track.

 

Anyway, on this particular night everything unfolded like it was supposed to on the way to the bedroom and once there, the foreplay was spontaneous and arousing. The love-making was passionate and when she called out my name and told me she wanted to come on my cock, I summoned all my strength and held on until I could feel the orgasm roll through her,  pulling me in even deeper and when she was at the very crest of the wave I let go and we rode it together.

 

When it happens like that…the build up of the passion, the timing of the orgasms…we are joined together at every possible level and it is so fucking intense. There truly is nothing like it. I think it’s very likely that eventually we will play with other people and I think it’ll be tons-o-fun, but the kind of connection that we had that night is something rare and beautiful and I believe that, more than anything else will keep US safe.

 

 

Cheers,

♀ & sss

There’s a type of erotic fiction that I’d like to write, but I’m having a hard time making it work. I’ve long been interested in why we’re wired the way we are, why are we turned on by certain things/situations and the evolution of our fetishes. But I’m not thinking of it in any kind of clinical sense. The idea I have is to write an erotic short story that not only captures a character and his/her kink, but also gives some sense of where that kink came from.

 

One of the big problems I’m having with this idea is, the origin of a fetish often happens long before we tun 18. Our sexual wiring starts when we start, but to explore the things that happen as a child in a piece of erotica without being creepy is difficult.  If I strip away all that is erotic from the part of the story that takes place before the age of consent and turn on the smut in the second part it seems like two separate stories.

 

Here’s a couple of paragraphs that I was quite happy with. Lisa’s ‘oral fixation’ started when she was about 7 and her dentist, who looked like an old walrus and smelled of Old Spice and pipe tobacco pulled out a couple of her baby teeth. When she was 14 her dentist looked like David Cassidy. The Partridge Family was all the rage and Lisa had a huge crush on him. Neither of these men ever did anything inappropriate to Lisa, but a sexual connection was made in her mind. My attempts to combine those to parts in a way that flows and is erotic, but not creepy have failed.

 

Here’s another example. When Mini was 6 or 7 years old I took him to a local water park one summer afternoon. The park was crowded with kids splashing in the water and parents sitting in the shade around the sides. I noticed a little girl (maybe 4 or 5) sitting on one of the water jets. She was just sitting there rocking back and forth with a big smile on her face, totally unaware of all the other kids playing around her. I’d love to start a story from that point. Maybe that was the first time she noticed how nice that zone could feel. Maybe her mother notices what she’s doing and makes a huge public scene. Maybe that’s the start of a being an exhibitionist… A powerful image with lot’s of possibilities, but how to use it without being creepy is difficult.

 

♀ & I were talking about my wiring the other night. When I was in grade 4 I had a teacher who was verbally and pyscologically abusive . I had troubles eating and sleeping, the skin peeled off my hands and eventually I was removed from her classroom. When I was 10, my uncle married his first wife. From the time they got married until I was about 14 she took great delight in tormenting me. She believed I wasn’t masculine enough. She’d slap me around, pin me to the ground and tickle or pinch me until I wet myself then tease me about getting beat up by a girl. I don’t remember either of these women with anything resembling fondness, but when I look back on my dating history, I’ve always been attracted to dominate women.  I get that context is everything. I understand that tormenting a child like that is wrong, but tormenting an adult sissy like that is hot. I’d just like to figure out how to combine those two things into a single story.

 

 

Cheers,

♀ & sss

Just when I think the Writing Muse has left me forever, she comes back. But she’s a big tease. She gives me just enough inspiration to amuse the readers of somebody else’s blog.

 

I’ve been thinking about this post card from this weeks Post Secret

Do you think the deception really matters to either of them? Speaking as one who had many online relationships before I met ♀, I’d have to say as long as they both stay true to their character, than no, it doesn’t matter at all.

 

I must admit I don’t read Secrets of a Blue-Eyed Vixen every day (have you seen how big our blog-roll is?) so it is possible that she’s talked about cuckolding her hubby before and I missed it. I don’t think her hubby is quite as submissive as I am, but apparently the thought of being cuckolded has been a huge turn-on for him for a long time. Last week during a girls trip to Vegas, Vixen went from fantasy to reality. She writes about it here and here. What I found absolutely fascinating was her hubby’s comments on the posts. Whether it’s from the male or female point of view pretty much everything I’ve read about cuckolding has been fantasy,  like here at SSS, or very established cuckold relationships. It was so cool to read not only how Vixen felt about it, but also the internal conflict her hubby is having with it.

 

Speaking of internal conflicts, ♀ & I took another step towards getting more involved with the Libido Lounge.  We went to the Play Party Etiquette class on Sunday. Jennifer was amazing as always. I know I rave about her every time I mention her and if you know her, I’m preaching to the choir and if you don’t you’re probably saying ‘OK, we get it. she’s super-duper-awesome’.

 

Anyway, the class had tons and tonnes of information, ideas and suggestions. As with other visits to the Lounge, we stopped on the way home to debrief. We talked about what we learned, saw, felt, thought…

 

The class did what it was supposed to. There’s a couples only play party in a couple of weeks and we’re seriously thinking of attending. Before the class, we’d both said that was more than we were ready for. I think the apprehensions we still have are internal more than external. We both trust Jennifer and the people we’ve met so far have all been nice so we’re not really worried about being treated badly or being pressured to do things (or people) we don’t want to do.

 

One of the first things Jennifer said was to know your own boundaries, but ♀ pointed out that we’re still exploring so it’s really hard to say definitively this is in and that is out and in the heat of the moment when one or both of us are thinking with our little brains and not our big brains, it’s not hard to imagine things going sideways. We both know that experience will be the best teacher, but still, at this stage of our development it’s a little intimidating.

 

I know everyone reading this thinks I’m the one pushing to do more and more, but I have reservations as well. ♀ still has some body image issues, but seriously…long blond hair, big beautiful breasts, gorgeous hips, she’s approachable, has an infectious laugh..all she needs to do is wear something sexy and just be herself and even if she doesn’t actually play with anyone, the only way she wouldn’t have a good time would be if she was trying hard not to have a good time.

 

I, on the other hand…when we decided to join the lounge I told ♀ that I would be joining as a sissy. There really isn’t any point in going to events wearing one of my two pairs of boxers. We joined to meet like-minded people and to expand our horizons and ‘sissy’ is definitely a part of that. I believe her when Jennifer says shame and ridicule aren’t allowed in, but a middle-aged guy in a pink baby-doll is (I think) more than just a little outside the box and yeah, it’s a bit intimidating.

 

We’re leaning towards going to the next play party in a couple weeks. Stay tuned!

 

Cheers,

 

♀ & sss

 

 

Did I mention being a tad disappointed about not having turkey for Christmas?  Well,  ♀ got tired of hearing me grumble about it and she bought a big bird for New Years Day.  After we’d had our final fuck of 2009 and toasted the new year with Kir Royale  and had our first fuck of the new decade and ♀ was soundly sleeping, I got up to start doing dinner prep. I peeled and chopped and diced and sliced (I also did some mincing, but we won’t talk about that right now) I made the Drunken Rice Pudding from our new cookbook , I set up morning coffee and after dinner espresso, stocked the fridge, took out the garbage and did all the dishes. So when ♀ woke up she could pour herself a cup-a-joe and start preparing  a holiday feast with all the trimmings minus about 3 hours of prep work.

 

 

 

I didn’t get up until our guests started to arrive; Junior and girl-friend, brother-in-law and girl-friend, my mom and step-dad and my nephew. The apartment smelled delicious and ♀ looked radiant. She’d managed to lose 3kg (6.6lbs) during December and was feeling very proud of herself. In a recent post I talked about it sometimes being difficult to incorporate the Dom/sub dynamic into real life, but if both people are on the same page, it can be done in subtle ways that other people don’t even notice. For instance, ♀ mentioned that I had done all the prep work while she slept the night before and instead of sitting around drinking beer with the rest of the guys, I was very involved with the final dinner preparation, serving and clean-up. It’s not the same as being trussed up in a girdle and stockings while I kiss her feet, but I think that would have made our guests uncomfortable.

 

 

 

All through dinner ♀ did things to ramp up the sexual tension. I had just finished hanging up coats and when I closed the closet door she was at the end of the hall with her skirt up showing me she wasn’t wearing panties.  While I was smashing the potatoes, she wiped a wet finger through my moustache so all I could smell was her pussy. She pushed me up against the counter and necked with me passionately then told me to take a glass of wine out to my mother. She tweaked my nipples then told me to take a beer out to her brother. She stood behind me while I tried to carve the turkey and ran her hands all over me sending chills through me and making my cock ache. Every time she had a chance to touch me she did and every time I looked her nipples were standing out through her top and bra just begging to be sucked. It was exquisite torture.

 

 

 

Finally, everyone except Junior and his gf had left and I was just about to take ♀ to bed when Junior mentioned that he’d rented Inglourious Basterds. He asked if I wanted to watch it with him. I had told him a few days before that I wanted to see it so I couldn’t really say no. I made espresso for ♀ and hoped she’d still be horny after the movie. No such luck. By the time Aldo Raine had finished carving the swastika into the Jew Hunters forehead, ♀ was done for the night. She was tired, was starting to get a headache and her shoulder was sore. She got ready for bed and asked me to cuddle with her for awhile.

 

 

 

As soon as we got comfortable she started kissing and pinching and tweaking…all the things she knows I’m unable to resist. I asked her to stop. She didn’t. I told her I’d much rather wait until morning when she could have a big O as well. Still she continued. I told her I was serious, I didn’t want to have sex just for me and I tried to move away. She grabbed hold of my now erect penis.

 

 

“There you go trying to top from the bottom again.  Who’s the boss here?”

 

“You are.”

 

“You say it, but you don’t always mean it. You can’t have it both ways, Princess. One of the conditions for you to be treated like a sissy is I get total control over your sexual pleasure, correct?”

 

“Yes, but…”

 

“No buts. I’m in charge, period. What you don’t seem to understand is I have several options available to me right now. I could take you to the very brink then kick your sorry ass out of bed. I could let you fuck me and that might get me excited then you could give me an orgasm. I could let you fuck me and not get excited and you’d feel like even less of a man knowing that once again your little pencil dick failed to arouse me.” (That made my cock twitch)

 

 

By this time I was on top of her and she told me to rub my cock against her clit. She can do this thing with her legs where she some how hooks them behind mine and locks me  in. She tightened and relaxed her legs to force me into a thrusting rhythm, but I was unable to move away. By then, of course, I didn’t want to move away.

 

 

After a few minutes of rubbing against her clit she said, “tell me something that is sexy.”

 

“You are sexy.”

 

“Be more specific.”

 

“Your breasts are sexy.”

 

“Why are they sexy?”

 

“I adore your curves. You are so feminine. The tops you wear that show off your cleavage make your breasts look so inviting.”

 

” Are you the only person that thinks so?”

 

“No. Many women and most men notice them. We can’t help it. It’s primal.”

 

“How does it make you feel when men stare at my cleavage?”

 

“Proud.”

 

“You like it when I show them off?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“What if a man wanted a closer look…would you let him?”

 

“Maybe.”

 

“What if I told you I thought he was handsome?”

 

“Than yes, I would. I’d invite him over. He’d stand close to you and look straight down your top.”

 

“What would he see?”

 

“Even more of your cleavage, the top of your lacy bra, your hard nipples poking through the fabric.”

 

“Does he like what he sees?”

 

“Yes, he has a hungry look in his eyes.”

 

“Will you let him have a better look?”

 

“Your erect nipples tell me you’re enjoying the attention and I remove your top.”

 

“What does he see?”

 

“Your pretty bra shows them off nicely, but he’s a real man and doesn’t really notice the bra. He knows for certain now that your breasts are real. He likes that.”

 

“Does he want to touch them?”

 

“Yes, very much. I tell him he can. He gently strokes the bare part of your breasts with his finger tips. Then he cups a breast in each hand. He squeezes them and pinches your nipples. I tell him that your nipples are very sensitive today and he needs to be gentle with them.”

 

“Is he surprised that you’re telling him how to fondle my breasts?”

 

“Not so much. He’s a little distracted. He’s getting bolder now and tells me to undo your bra. I comply and he pulls it off and tosses it on the floor.”

 

“What does he see?”

 

“The first thing he notices is your nipples and areolae are the identical rose colour. He’s obviously impressed. He touches both breasts gently with his fingers like he’s reading braille. He traces along the scars on the underside of your breasts, then circles your nipples so gently he barely touches them. I can feel you squirm. Then he grabs one breast with both hands right against your chest and squeezes hard. You gasp and he keeps squeezing. Your breast juts out like a torpedo and your nipple gets a little darker.”

 

 

At some point during this she had let my cock enter her pussy. Her legs had me locked in tight so I was unable to thrust my hips. She massaged my dick with her kegels while the dialogue continued…

 

 

“Does he want to put my nipple in his mouth?”

 

“Not only does he want to, but your nipple is almost screaming to be in his mouth. All I do is nod at him and he lifts your torpedoed breast to his mouth. He circles your nipple with his tongue a few times then sucks it into his mouth. I can see he’s sucking on it harder than I do and I’m just about to remind him about how sensitive they are when he lets go of your breast and the entire weight of it is being held with his teeth on your nipple. You moan, but he doesn’t let go. He smiles up at us and I can feel your legs start to quiver.”

 

“I think my other nipple is much to sensitive to be bitten that way.”

 

“He doesn’t seem to want to. After he releases your nipple, he continues to fondle and kiss your breasts, squeezing them together around his face. He’s still enjoying them, but something has changed. He’s distracted. He keeps looking up at us, like he wants to ask something, but he’s undecided if he should. We all know what he wants, but I want to hear him ask it.”

 

“If he asks, will you let him fuck my breasts?”

 

“He doesn’t so much ask. It’s more a statement. ‘I want to fuck your wife’s titties’. I lead you to a couch and kneel at one end of it. You lay down with your head in my lap and we watch as he pulls off his pants and boxers. He straddles you and rubs his semi-erect penis across your nipples. We watch as he starts to stroke himself between your breasts. After a couple of minutes he applies some lube to his cock and I squeeze your breasts together to give him more to fuck.”

“Is his cock long enough to poke out the top?”

 

“Your breasts are large so not at first, but eventually it seems to grow right out of your cleavage towards your mouth. I squeeze your breasts tight around his cock and soon you are able to lick his pre-cum off the tip of it.”

 

“Does holding my breasts together so another man can fuck them turn you on, Princess?”

 

 

To be honest, I’m pretty sure I came right about then, but was so caught up in the story I needed to finish it.

 

 

“Watching his cock slide between your breasts is the sexiest thing I have ever seen.”

 

“Where is your little pencil dick while all this is going on?”

 

“Resting against your cheek. If you turn your head in between his thrusts, you can take me into your mouth.”

 

“Two cocks pointed right at my face. I like that.”

 

“He comes without warning and he has lots for us. Most of it lands on your face, some of it is on my cock and he squeezes the last bit onto your nipples. The intensity pushes me over the edge and I grab my cock lubed with his cum and shoot my load on your face as well. Some of it drips down between your breasts and I squeeze the last bit onto your lips.”

 

“Do you like seeing my face covered in cum, Princess?”

 

“I’d never really thought of bukkake as especially erotic before, but seeing you like this is incredibly hot.”

 

“Will you kiss me like this?”

 

“With passion, Baby. With passion.”

 

 

Cheers,

♀ & sss

 

btw: she rolled over and went to sleep after this.

 

She poked me in the ribs until I woke up.

 

“Feel my pussy.” (Have I ever mentioned how much I ♥ being married to ♀?)

 

“Umm, you’re wet.”

 

“Are you kidding me? I’m fucking soaked.”

 

I slid a second finger inside her. “Are you a little horny.”

 

She pushed my hand away. “No, I’m pretty sure I’m already done.”

 

“You woke me up to tell me you masturbated? Thanks.”

 

“No. I think I had an orgasm in my sleep.”

 

“Wow. I thought only kids had wet dreams. When was the last time you had one?”

 

“Never. Seriously, I don’t think I’ve ever had one before. I’m 41 years old and I’ve just had my first wet dream. That’s kinda fucked up. Do you think it’s a symptom of menopause? Because I was thinking that’s why my nipples were hurting so badly a few weeks ago. Maybe I’ll have sore nipples and hot flashes and wet dreams all the time now.”

 

“I’m pretty sure that if wet dreams were a symptom of menopause we would have heard about it. Why don’t you tell me about your dream before it starts to fade?”

 

“Well, I was in a nice restaurant and I was standing in a little alcove waiting to use the restroom when someone came up behind me and grabbed my breasts. At first I thought it was you, but when I looked down I realized those weren’t your hands. He fondled me for a while then turned us around so I was facing out into the restaurant and he was still behind me. He slid his hands under my top and started pinching my nipples really hard. Then you walked in and asked what he was doing to your wife? He didn’t speak, but I could feel is breath on my neck. He lifted my skirt up and he pushed himself against me. You stepped forward,  put your hands under my top and pushed yourself against me. I was looking past you and no one in the restaurant seemed to be aware of us. We were all still clothed, but it still seemed dangerous to me. The sensation of four hands on my breasts, his breath on my neck, his anonymous cock pushing against my ass, your hard cock pushing against my cunt; being sandwiched between the two of you, that’s what did it.”

 

“Wow, I’m flattered that I was there. Are you sure you don’t want lovin’s?”

 

“No, I’m tired now. Remind me about this in the morning. I’m going to do some research to find out if wet dreams are a symptom of menopause.”

Writing has become very difficult lately. Or to be honest, writing that doesn’t sound like crap (to me) has become difficult.

 

But the muse hasn’t left me entirely and in some ways that makes this current dry spell even more frustrating. I’ll write a few lines or a couple of paragraphs and think ‘holy doodle, I’m on a roll now’, but then it leaves me and everything I write after that sucks.

 

Here’s a couple of paragraphs from a story called Oral Fixation

 

There were several ways Lisa’s dentist, Dr. Schmidt, could have reacted when he returned to his office to retrieve his wife’s forgotten anniversary present Thursday night and discovered, in Examination Room #3, Lisa bound hand and foot to the chair while his hygienist, Sook-li, worked intently on Lisa’s nether region. He could have watched quietly from the doorway then gone home to give his wife the shagging of her life or he could have burst into the room with a raging hard-on and asked to join in the fun or after seeing what was going on he could have left and then the following day in a calm and measured fashion he could have reprimanded (or even fired) Sook-Li and had his receptionist contact Lisa to tell her they no longer wanted her as a patient.

It was some time later before Lisa could think of any of those possibilities. Sook-li had the examination light aimed at Lisa’s crotch and the magnifying mirror was positioned so Lisa had an unobstructed view of her pussy. The hygienist had used two different brushes with the high speed compressor. She’d started on Lisa’s perineum with a stiff brush. She did all around her outer lips, spread her apart and did her inner lips with the same precision as when she’d done Lisa’s teeth an hour before. Then Sook-li switched to a softer brush. She moved it up and down along the sides of her hood, back and forth across the top of it, around and around her clit until it was so engorged Lisa thought it would burst. Then Sook-li put the ultra-sonic brush directly against Lisa’s clit and her brain just melted. It flowed from her pussy like a ribbon of sunshine, off the end of the chair in a sparkling waterfall and was now a puddle in between Sook-li’s sensible shoes. Being tied to the chair, she couldn’t actually see the puddle, but she was quite certain that’s where her brain was.

sss

Finally, a new post and finally, ♀ & I managed to get three days off together; no jobs, no kids, no visitors no obligations. Three whole days all to ourselves. We’ve been so busy for so long, we’d become accustomed to our time alone together being doled out in little bits and pieces.

 

What did we do? Well, ♀ painted our en suite bathroom (is that redundant?) We’ve been in this condo for just over four months and this is the first room she’s painted. That should give you some indication of just how busy we’ve been. The next room to be done will be our bedroom. She’s eager to get that done because our Queynte painting has finally arrived from Jackie. It really is beautiful. The colours and the details are brilliant. There are a couple of issues though. It’s not quite as ‘abstract’ as we’d convinced ourselves it would be. The two people who have seen it (my mother and step-son) knew right away what it was. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. We’ve tried to make our bedroom a very sensuous place and have several nudes so it will be a perfect fit. I guess we’d just imagined ‘what’ and ‘who’ would be our little secret. I asked ♀ if she was still comfortable with hanging it and she said, ‘with the amount of money we spent on it, you better believe it’s going up!’  That brings me to the second issue. The price Jackie quoted us was more then we’d ever spent on a piece of art, but we were able to justify it because we both loved the idea and the examples we saw online are so gorgeous and really, you expect to pay more for a commissioned piece. What we didn’t count on…and this wasn’t Jackie’s fault at all…was the cost of shipping and insuring a large flat package and duty and taxes and framing and all those extras added about $600 to the final price. I’m sure once it’s up on the wall we will love it forever, but right now it stings a bit.

 

 Do you remember the book Mister Got To Go? It was one of my favourite books to read to Mini when he was little. It takes place at our favourite place to stay when we spend the night in Vancouver, The Sylvia Hotel. It was built in 1912 and it has been designated a heritage building so there are very strict guidelines to what they can do to it. The plumbing and electrical and safety stuff is all up to modern codes, but it still has a very old feel to it. We were lucky enough to get a room looking out onto English Bay. It was loveRly. We only spent one night, but we did a lot of…ummm…stuff. Yeah, of course we did  ’that’, but we also went to the Firehall Arts Centre and saw This Mortal Flesh. It’s had mixed reviews, but we really enjoyed it.

 

After we checked out of the room we had a very leisurely breakfast in the hotel restaurant, just looking out at the water and watching life go by. Later we did some shopping. We bought a bag full of books that included three collections of erotic fiction. The one I’m most excited about is Yes Ma’am  edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel. Surprised? Not.

 

We stopped at a specialty wine store and ♀ found a couple of bottles to try. We avoided malls and just wandered through small independent shops. Eventually we ended up at Little Sister’s. We found a leather flogger that ♀ said would be perfect for when she wants to put me over her knee (the flogger we have and the riding crop are both to long), but she decided it was to much $. We did get a ceramic massaging stone and two new toys; a new bullet for her and a prostrate massager for me.

 

After we’d finished shopping, we stopped in at the Number 5 Orange and watched a few pretty girls take their clothes off. If you’ve never been, the women need to climb a ladder from the stage up to the change room after their set. ♀ & I had the best table in the bar; in front of the stage and underneath the ladder. Purrfect! We stopped for a late dinner on the way home and watched the last period of the hockey game. Canucks win…again!

 

Guess what? When we got home our condo was exactly how we left it. Isn’t that just the coolest thing?  Have I mentioned how much I like this empty-nest lifestyle?  The other great thing about getting home is our bed. I am quite certain I have never loved a piece of furniture as much as I love our bed. Once we were unpacked and the mail was checked and we were settled into bed, ♀ had a brilliant thought and we did something we’d never done before. We lay beside each other head-to-foot and got out our new toys. First she inserted the prostrate massager into my bum, then she started fucking herself with her glass dildo and playing with her clit with her new bullet. It was the coolest thing. We could look into each others eyes AND we had an up close view of each others naughty bits as we masturbated. She came first, then took the dildo out and spread her lips wide open for me. The sight of the  juices dripping out of her cunt and the vibrations in my bum pushed me over the edge soon after.

 

We’ve watched each other masturbate before, but we’d never done it together like that. It really was a lot of  fun and if you’re looking for something different to do tonight I’d recommend it. I meant it would be something you and your partner might enjoy. I didn’t mean you’d enjoy it with us. Though now that I think about it…with us would probably have entertainment value. You’d be able to see ♀ cunt in person and in vibrant colour up on the wall and you’d be able to lay on the worlds most comfortable bed and once our circle jerk was over, we could read erotica together. Sounds like fun, right? But maybe it’s not all that practical. So try it at home with someone you like and tell us all about it in the comments.

 

Cheers,

♀ & sss

I was sequestered in the office last weekend, busy writing the next chapter of Death & Taxes  surfing smut and playing Backgammon when I came across this little jem  at <Sex-Kitten.net> by my favourite PSO, MS. Angela.

You don’t know her? Seriously?  Even if your not in the market for trash talk (today) she’s a fine writer and has a very entertaining blog. Here’s what they say about her:

Angela St. Lawrence is the PhoneSex Operator of choice for the thinking man. While she’s been called many things by her clients (“The way she riffs on matters sexual and otherwise, she is my white Billie Holiday” & “A 21st century Anais Nin with just a touch of Machiavelli.”), mostly she just likes to be called Angela. Make sure you visit her award winning website– and her blog, Zen Fetish.

“Don’t kiss me on the neck.”

“Why? I thought you liked it.”

“I do. Just not right now. I just want to be fucked. Just stick it in.”

“Okay, but don’t bitch at me later.”

“Christ, shut the hell up and stick in it.”

And then he is pushing her over the kitchen sink, sliding her skirt up over her generous, round ass. Surprised to see she is not wearing panties, he thinks better of saying anything; she obviously isn’t in the mood to listen.

As he goes to push her right leg out further with the cap of his bent knee, she moans.

“Hurry up, damn it. Give me that cock.”

And so he presses between her legs, again surprised when the head of his cock glides so easily between her already-moist thighs to bob against her sodden bush. She grunts, wiggling her slit back onto the head. He feels himself slide into her–fast and deep–with hardly any effort.

As he starts moving in and out, he can hear the slick sound of her juices coating his pistoning cock and feel them oozing between the hair on his balls. The smell of her sex wafts up to surround both of them. He moves quicker; her animal need has quickened his pulse, sharpened his need.

She’s curled her fists along the edge of the sink, her white knuckle grasp helping her to push back. Her breaths are fast. She is grunting and groaning, then whimpering.

“I need it. Right there. Yes. There.”

And then she is crying and her cunt is rhythmically spasming around his cock as she begins cumming. The raw quickness of her orgasm pushes him over the edge and he is pumping his load into her, his face buried between her angora-covered shoulder blades.

They stay that way, hunched over the sink like twin embryos as they catch their breath.

And then she stands up straight, his dick sliding out of her and down her thigh–a slug, leaving it’s slime.

“Okay, leave me alone, now. I need to finish these dishes.”

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