Today I am not wearing panties at work. I am wearing a dress and boots, and of course a bra, but no panties.
I started the day off with panties, but they were bothering me. So instead of dealing with annoyance all day, I just took them off.
I may be the last person ever to figure this out, but wow! I feel SO naughty. Everything is just THERE! Wearing boots only adds to the effect, as it just feels so contradictory to be almost fully dressed.
I want to squat down on the floor, pull the dress up, and take pics that show the dress, the boots, and the naked pussy. For ART, people, for ART!
Hmm, now where is that iPhone that now allows me to send MMS pics via txt?
My husband came home early from work, and the children are elsewhere deeply involved in video games. We start kissing, and I tell him to follow me in the bathroom. I love kissing him while sitting on the counter, so that my tits and pussy are easily accessible for him.
We kiss long and deep. I love to hold his face in my hands while sucking his tongue. It feels so intimate, so close.
He, however, has other, less romantic plans.
He unbuckles his belt, pushes me to my knees and grabs the back of my head and shoves my mouth on his cock. I can barely even suck it, as he is fucking it so hard I am choking. Of course, this makes my pussy wet.
He pulls out to let me breathe, and then rams it back in. When he finally starts to come, he is so deep in my throat that I can feel his balls spasm on my lips and tongue. In fact, he is SO deep, that even though he comes copious amounts, I can’t taste it at all. It goes all the way down my throat and does not even touch my tongue :(
It’s ok though, because tonight, he is going to lick my ass while he fists me. He does not know it yet, but he owes me!
Of course I want you to wrap those bright red lips around my cock. I want to see the suction in your cheeks as you slide your mouth down the shaft, and I want to see smears of lipstick as your head goes back up. I want you to lick and kiss the skin underneath my cock, just below the head. And I want to plant my hands in your hair, pushing myself all the way down your throat until you gag.
But I also want to please you. You’ll be sitting in a hotel chair, the afternoon light spilling through the curtains behind you. You can suck on my tongue as I bury my hands in your white satin corset. I’ll squeeze your nipples hard and pull your big warm breasts over the top. With my tongue running down your neck, I’ll slip two fingers in your wet pussy, and I’ll paint your nipples with your own juices before I suck them off. Continue reading Another Story from a Friend
I have always enjoyed being the center of attention, although I have not always admitted as much. Although I am a chubby girl, I am still fairly vain and like people to notice my pretty face, smart and filthy brain, and huge, gorgeous tits. I know what looks good on me, and work it as hard as I can.
Sometimes I even work it in unacceptable places. When I attend lectures or workshops, it is almost impossible for me not to sexualize the instructor. I find myself crossing my legs frequently, and even putting my fingers in my mouth as I imagine hearing the sound of his zipper coming down, and the smell of his cock in my face. Although this habit is handy during boring lectures, it can pose a problem when I am trying to pay attention to the WORDS coming out of his mouth. Continue reading Life of the Party
I am someone in a state of sexual flux, full of desires and dreams, but also ever the careful, safe wife and mother. This risk aversion has suited me well in life, as I like to think through every possible outcome of my actions. I am nothing if not responsible.
I will be attending an event at the end of February that will present an opportunity I have long thought about. Although I have always publicly declared I am bisexual (although now I like the term pansexual better), I have also been honest about my limited experience with women. I dated a woman a couple of times, but it never progressed to the physical realm. Now, however, I have someone who is eagerly asking to be that first experience. Who knew at 36 years old it was still possible to be a nervous virgin?
Not only is this person, well – a woman, but she is also the TYPE of woman I have always been attracted to. She is hot, and butch. Oh so butch. Melty butch. But all of that does not even begin to compare to her brain. She is hella smart and is a badass activist in the GLBTQ and BDSM worlds.
If I believed in God, I would say that God literally looked at my checklist, and said OK! Get to it!
Things like this make a person reexamine the source of their sexual confidence. I know men, and guys, you are fairly easy. The penis is not exactly complicated. But women? What in the hell? Not only are we as complicated as quantum physics, but everyone likes different things. OMG! Panic!!!
The nervousness I feel is not related at all to the actual sex with a woman part. I like my vagina, like the way my vagina tastes, and can imagine nothing more exciting than actually sucking my own juices off of her strap-on. But my ego is threatened! What if I get down there, and have no clue what to do? In fact, I am pretty sure that is EXACTLY what will happen. I actually feel a little sorry for heterosexual men after all these years of telling them “how” to have sex. A penis is fairly self-explanatory. Grab it. Kiss it. Stroke it. Suck it. But women have lots and lots and lots of parts. Not just on the outside either.
I may eat Hamburger Helper, wear jeans from Costco, and drink water straight from the tap, but when it comes to porn, I’m quite the snob. In fact, I prefer “porn connoisseur,” because it makes me sound classy! (And nothing is classier than a woman who likes to watch people fuck.)
2009 was an amazing year for me. Absolutely amazing.
2009 is the year where I stopped living according to the default button. I made a decision to actively pursue things I was interested in instead of complaining about how they were impossible. I took responsibility for radical stances I held, and became more vocal about those stances. Why just yesterday I defended the right to get turned on by the smell of pussy (or balls!) and thought it was sexy when someone sniffed a bicycle seat.
In early 2009, a harmless email flirtation with a long-time crush led me to radically examine my life. ALL areas of my life. For those of you who read this blog and do not know me, you may think sex is the only thing I care about. However, I care about many more things than my sex life; I care about YOUR sex life!
I began this blog in April of 2009, mainly as a way to express sexuality that was bubbling out of me. I could not harass my husband 24/7, so I began to allow my mind to go where it wanted, and explore the range of my attractions.
About a week ago, I was having sexy flirty time online with a local friend. I have met him in person a couple of times, and he is not only attractive, but smart. REALLY smart. The kind of smart that makes me wet. He gets very excited when he talks about politics AND he is liberal. I am usually attracted to men who libertarians, probably because I am so liberal myself. But this guy speaks with such intensity and passion, not to mention a sexy accent, that I don’t need the extra kick of arguing with the devil about self-determination to get me going.
Even as I was explaining to him that he was just a little too geographically close for me to seriously flirt with, a fantasy was forming in my dirty little mind. In fact, the reality of his proximity is what made it even hotter. I knew that with a little planning, a little timing, and a lot of anticipation, something could actually happen with him.
I would want to meet him for lunch, nowhere special. During lunch, he and I would talk about all sorts of thing; politics, alternative medicine, and religion. As he talked, I would find my pussy growing wetter and wetter the more animated he got. His accent would become stronger the more passionate he became. Finally, after hearing him talk for close to an hour, just the two of us, it would be time to go.
I would walk him to his car, and ask to talk just a little longer. He would invite me into his car. I would climb into the passenger seat while he got into the driver’s seat. I would make sure that I sat in a way that caused my skirt to move up enough on my legs that the top of my stockings showed.
The smell of my wet pussy would be apparent. He would lean over to try and kiss me, and I would shake my head no. This was not that kind of encounter.
I would put one leg up on the dashboard, and the skirt would ride up even more. The pussy smell would fill the car, and I would use my left hand to reach over and open the fly of his khakis as my right hand went under my panties into my wet cunt. I would play with it for a while, at the same time as pulled his hard cock out of his pants.
So there I am, legs splayed open, one hand on another man’s cock, and one hand in my pussy. Although the precome spilling from his head would provide some lubrication, I knew we needed more.
I would pull my leg down, turn to the side and sit on my knees facing him. I would once again reach into my panties, but this time with my whole hand. When the right hand was slippery and covered with my juice, I would take it out and put it on his cock. Then I would stroke his cock up and down, first with one hand, then with two. I would lace my fingers together and rub all over the cock, and then take one precome and pussy coated hand and shove it into his mouth. The taste of my cunt combined with the saltiness of his own cock would send him into spasms, and without asking permission, he would push my head down into his lap and shoot all over my face and mouth.
When his breathing finally returned to normal, I would wipe my face with his hand, and lick the come from from his fingers. Then, I would smile at him, get out of the car, and walk away, never even looking back.
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