I keep getting to the brink of coming and he hits my cervix...my sounds a mix of aroused woman and pain...it all mixes together with a strange, new sensation. He grunts and shakes and I feel his come shooting inside me.
I don't know his name...
He immediately pulls out. I hate it when men do this...it's even worse when it's a well-hung stud...my pussy is suddenly left empty and achie. I am still quivering, right on the brink of coming. I want to put my legs together and clench them together to bring myself off. I wish my hands weren't tied. God, I want to come so bad. But suddenly another man is on top of me.
He's big and his belly is on mine as his dick slides inside. He feels average, and that's fine. It takes my poor big-cock-fucked pussy a minute to adjust to him but by that time he's already fucking me. He's down on me, rubbing my nipples and breathing against my neck. He smells like cigarettes but makes no attempt to kiss me.
I feel his weight on me, holding me down. His pelvis, though, is a lithe and supple thing, ramming in and out, up and down, oscillating. What a feeling! I raise my legs against him and my feet start to heat up again. Now my pussy walls are tight against him and I grind against his pelvis, fucking his back. His breath comes very sharp and fast. He's one of those men who doesn't make noise, but I make him moan. He gasps: "God...you're...tight...hot..." I wonder if he's going to come or have a heart attack on top of me!
Then he pulls both my legs wide and holds them in the insides of his elbows as he slides back inside. I am spread wide open, feeling very vulnerable, feeling the air in the room brush against my hips and anus as I am lifted higher off the sheets. He fucks me with abandon as I gasp and moan. His heavy balls slap against my ass -- an unbelievably sexy sensation. I hear our sounds...the first man came in me and my juices mingle with his semen to make that distinctive squishy fast sound of being really fucked. My feet are burning and I am seeing colors at the edges of my eyes...
I am just about to explode when he lets out a "oh, fuck!" and I feel him spurting inside me. His cock seems to grow bigger as this happens. He must not have come for a month: I feel the semen cascade inside me, then dripping out, running down into my anus. He immediately pulls out and I moan with disappointment.
"Fuck me, fuck me...I want to come..." I am moaning. Only silence comes from around me. With the blindfold, I can see nothing. The room smells of strongly semen and pussy.
I wonder: How did I get into this?
Monday, August 25, 2008
Friday, August 15, 2008
My going-away party, Part I
I am lying naked on a bed with soft, clean sheets. My hands are tied to the headboard. I am wearing a blindfold. Something about the blindfold actually heightens senses other than vision. Opening my eyes only yields blackness. So I close them and feel the mouths sucking my nipples hard, the hands roaming all over me. I am already very wet. My legs are free and I feel hands parting them, raising my knees.
An unfamiliar body. He's very slender and his breath vaguely smells of peppermint as he leans down kissing me, pushing his tongue into my mouth. He lacks any finesse, like a college-boy. And very slim -- I rub one leg up and down him. But I can feel his erection pressing against me, and he's hung. Ohmygod. I can feel him reaching down with one hand, playing with my pussy with the tip of his cock, my juices coating it. Then he starts to push inside.
It hurts and I cry out. "Go slow, babe." He waits for me to adjust my pelvis to take more of him. I feel his head push inside me, and behind it a very thick shaft...I imagine this as one of those cocks that gets bigger beyond the head. Gasp, I gasp, and his breathing is coming hard on my shoulder. Then his head and torso push away; he must be raising himself up on his arms. He uses this purchase to push his cock all the way in. I let out a half-moan, half-scream. I am filled up, the walls of my pussy almost painfully stretched.
I wrap my legs around him. He's so skinny I can go way beyond crossing my ankles. And yet he's got this giant dick, which he proceeds to use on me full throttle. He's fucking me with a hard rhythm, very fast, his ass and pelvis rotating up and down maniacally. Then he slows down and I rest my feet on the backs of his thighs. He pulls way out, then slams inside me, provoking another moan/scream. I open my legs wide and push up my pelvis to await the next move, and he slams in again. Then he pulls almost out, leaving me quivering, unfilled, the walls of my pussy wet and waiting. It's excruciating...waiting, wanting the rhythm of fucking. But he plays me with more skill than I first expected. Again and again, he slow-fucks me.
Then I feel my legs being lifted and I am nearly upended as my feet and ankles go over his muscular shoulders. Now he's going even deeper, hitting my cervis...not comfortable...yet the thickness of him keeps me moaning and groaning. My hands strain at the headboard, wanting to feel his face and chest, grab his gymnastic little ass. But I am helpless to do so, which of course adds to the arousal. I keep getting to the brink of coming and he hits my cervix...my sounds a mix of aroused woman and pain...it all mixes together with a strange, new sensation. He grunts and shakes and I feel his come shooting inside me.
I don't know his name...
Friday, August 8, 2008
Listening to the sounds though the walls
I'm on temporary liaison to a European agency that does what my bunch does -- fuzzy enough? I think so. It's nice duty -- the usual posting is three to five years, but I am not so lucky. In any event, I am in a very nice flat in a very nice arrondissement, one the tourists never get to. Thank you, dear taxpayers.
I don't know my neighbor, but I hear him, almost every night.
One girlfriend -- I call her Carla, after the French first lady -- is a screamer like me. She is not only very loud when she comes, but does lots of moaning and coaxing in French, such a wonderful language to make love in. He is loud, too. Another one is an American girl, younger; I have named her Marcia. She is a bit more reticent. I can't hear her until she lets out a sudden moan or passionate cry. Then she has one long, intense orgasm and I hear her alto "oohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..." I bet he's gone down on her. There is another Frenchwoman -- Danielle in my fantasies -- who starts this amazing yodel of moaning and noisemaking. I imagine her riding him as she does this. Sometimes I hear the headboard hitting the wall and now he is fucking one of these women doggy.
I have only seen "Marcia" coming and going, and Monsieur is ruggedly handsome, like a mountaineer, and older -- he reminds me of a man I had a fling with during my undergraduate semester in Paris. He introduced himself to me once, as Luc, and his smile told me he knew I was listening to the nighttime sounds.
Alas, it is all I can do. Must be ever so careful in this position. I can't get into the other positions I would want. So I will have to content myself with the sounds through the wall, and my wistful fingers. I have always loved hearing my neighbors fuck -- it's like hearing life.
I don't know my neighbor, but I hear him, almost every night.
One girlfriend -- I call her Carla, after the French first lady -- is a screamer like me. She is not only very loud when she comes, but does lots of moaning and coaxing in French, such a wonderful language to make love in. He is loud, too. Another one is an American girl, younger; I have named her Marcia. She is a bit more reticent. I can't hear her until she lets out a sudden moan or passionate cry. Then she has one long, intense orgasm and I hear her alto "oohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..." I bet he's gone down on her. There is another Frenchwoman -- Danielle in my fantasies -- who starts this amazing yodel of moaning and noisemaking. I imagine her riding him as she does this. Sometimes I hear the headboard hitting the wall and now he is fucking one of these women doggy.
I have only seen "Marcia" coming and going, and Monsieur is ruggedly handsome, like a mountaineer, and older -- he reminds me of a man I had a fling with during my undergraduate semester in Paris. He introduced himself to me once, as Luc, and his smile told me he knew I was listening to the nighttime sounds.
Alas, it is all I can do. Must be ever so careful in this position. I can't get into the other positions I would want. So I will have to content myself with the sounds through the wall, and my wistful fingers. I have always loved hearing my neighbors fuck -- it's like hearing life.
Friday, August 1, 2008
Open thread: The things we've done under the influence
What I've done while tipsy. Well, I got into a submissive fling with a much younger man (read about it here, here, and here). I had my first sexual experience with a girl. I fucked my bother-in-law. Drunken little slut.
As Dorothy Parker said, "I love a dry martini, two at the most. Three, I'm under the table. Four, I'm under the host."
When I was 20 and still fairly inexperienced, I had a doozy boozy experience. For years, I had noticed how my dad's buddies had their eyes on me. For a long time, I thought it was because I was ugly or funny looking. Hey, I was naive. Anyway, by 20 I was savvy enough to know what it meant. Once I accompanied my father to a dinner/springtime party for the large company where he worked. I wore a little black dress and was already looking for trouble.
As soon as we got there, I ran into my dad's golfing buddy Chuck. He had long "appreciated" me. Buff and tan, he was a surgeon and private pilot, very cocky, very married. He steered me over to the bar and bought me my first martini. Back then, like any college kid, I liked beer or sweet drinks. But I wanted to appear sophisticated. We stood against the wall and talked. Soon Mrs. Chuck -- Diane -- drifted over and joined the conversation, staring daggers at me. She was a pretty blonde -- but an young attractive woman is a destabilizing threat to any wife with half a brain. We talked, time passed and all of us went to circulate elsewhere.
Half an hour later, Chuck found me on the terrace of the country club, bored out of my skull by these old fogies. He brought another martini, and I drank it. He was very attractive, and I felt the innate competitiveness now with Diane, and I drank way too fast as he asked me about college and whatever... Pretty soon, I excused myself to go to the restroom. When I came out, there was the buff surgeon, standing in the hall. He took me by the arm and led me into an unoccupied ballroom.
We came together like matter in some physics experiment -- and, wow, being kissed by an older, experienced man was so much better than making out with some college guy. He just ravished me with kisses on my mouth, neck... I was ravenously horny as he put me on a table, hiked up my legs and pulled down my panties. He went down on me and I thought I would come right then -- but he was good; he just kept me hovering on the edge of orgasm. I kept ineffectually reaching for his pants, and soon he complied. Dropping them and his boxers, as he slid his cock inside my dripping pussy. I gasped from the moment he entered, and he fucked me with sure, rhythmic strokes. It didn't take long before I exploded, screaming...I couldn't help it.
He was still standing, fucking me on the table. "God, you're so tight," he gasped. He fucked me expertly, through a couple more orgasms, but I could tell he was about to come, too. "Are you on the pill?" he breathed. "Unh-huh," I managed to get out, and he came inside me, shuddering, moaning...hell, he was going to come inside me whether I was on the pill or not, he was so far gone. I felt his come shoot in me, and he held me close for a long time, stroking my hair, telling me how beautiful I was.
We put ourselves back together -- having left a massive come stain on the table cloth. About fifteen minutes later, I was back with dad, but still watching Chuck across the room. He was talking to this or that bigwig, smiling like a man who had just fucked the sweet young thing he had lusted after for years. Then Diane came up, smiled sweetly and pulled on his tie, as if to pull him down to kiss him. A second after their faces met, she slapped him so hard I could hear it across the noisy room. She had smelled my sweet pussy odor on Chuck's face.
By that point, I was drinking Diet Coke.
As Dorothy Parker said, "I love a dry martini, two at the most. Three, I'm under the table. Four, I'm under the host."
When I was 20 and still fairly inexperienced, I had a doozy boozy experience. For years, I had noticed how my dad's buddies had their eyes on me. For a long time, I thought it was because I was ugly or funny looking. Hey, I was naive. Anyway, by 20 I was savvy enough to know what it meant. Once I accompanied my father to a dinner/springtime party for the large company where he worked. I wore a little black dress and was already looking for trouble.
As soon as we got there, I ran into my dad's golfing buddy Chuck. He had long "appreciated" me. Buff and tan, he was a surgeon and private pilot, very cocky, very married. He steered me over to the bar and bought me my first martini. Back then, like any college kid, I liked beer or sweet drinks. But I wanted to appear sophisticated. We stood against the wall and talked. Soon Mrs. Chuck -- Diane -- drifted over and joined the conversation, staring daggers at me. She was a pretty blonde -- but an young attractive woman is a destabilizing threat to any wife with half a brain. We talked, time passed and all of us went to circulate elsewhere.
Half an hour later, Chuck found me on the terrace of the country club, bored out of my skull by these old fogies. He brought another martini, and I drank it. He was very attractive, and I felt the innate competitiveness now with Diane, and I drank way too fast as he asked me about college and whatever... Pretty soon, I excused myself to go to the restroom. When I came out, there was the buff surgeon, standing in the hall. He took me by the arm and led me into an unoccupied ballroom.
We came together like matter in some physics experiment -- and, wow, being kissed by an older, experienced man was so much better than making out with some college guy. He just ravished me with kisses on my mouth, neck... I was ravenously horny as he put me on a table, hiked up my legs and pulled down my panties. He went down on me and I thought I would come right then -- but he was good; he just kept me hovering on the edge of orgasm. I kept ineffectually reaching for his pants, and soon he complied. Dropping them and his boxers, as he slid his cock inside my dripping pussy. I gasped from the moment he entered, and he fucked me with sure, rhythmic strokes. It didn't take long before I exploded, screaming...I couldn't help it.
He was still standing, fucking me on the table. "God, you're so tight," he gasped. He fucked me expertly, through a couple more orgasms, but I could tell he was about to come, too. "Are you on the pill?" he breathed. "Unh-huh," I managed to get out, and he came inside me, shuddering, moaning...hell, he was going to come inside me whether I was on the pill or not, he was so far gone. I felt his come shoot in me, and he held me close for a long time, stroking my hair, telling me how beautiful I was.
We put ourselves back together -- having left a massive come stain on the table cloth. About fifteen minutes later, I was back with dad, but still watching Chuck across the room. He was talking to this or that bigwig, smiling like a man who had just fucked the sweet young thing he had lusted after for years. Then Diane came up, smiled sweetly and pulled on his tie, as if to pull him down to kiss him. A second after their faces met, she slapped him so hard I could hear it across the noisy room. She had smelled my sweet pussy odor on Chuck's face.
By that point, I was drinking Diet Coke.
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