Ava Adora

Fantasy Fullfillment?

2006-11-29T14:03:00.000-05:00

I've just acquired the materials for our tryst with a twist this weekend.

The main material: Cardboard.

any guesses Adora?

-M

Silent

2006-10-18T00:06:00.000-04:00

Yeah, I've been MIA again. So sue me. Sometimes I want to write, and sometimes, I don't. I can't force it.

My life has been less than stellar for the past 2 months or so. I'll deal; I always do. It tends to overwhelm, though, especially when my coping mechanisms refuse to co-operate.

I feel like posting a poem. Hooray for cop-outs! I'm failing utterly at articulating my thoughts, though, so I'll just let someone else articulate them for me.

Crystals

Diamonds overhead.
We walk on crystals
sharp as longing.
When you touched me
I thought my heart
would crash through
my breastbone to lie,
pulsing and impossible,
on your bed. A screen
door banged across
the lane instead.
We heard a late car
on the street. Summer,
that was. I wanted
the sea, an island, more.
You wanted tenderness.
I felt the bone and
cartilage that held
my heart. Dreamed
of crystals,
sharper, even.

-Guy Gavriel Kay

Technical Difficulties

2006-08-18T00:53:00.000-04:00

I am now the proud owner of several hot vids depicting M sodomizing himself. Really, it’s quite a collection.

I wish I could post screenshots of them, but something odd happens when I try to capture them using the Print Screen button (my usual modus operandi for screenshots.) I can paste them into Paint just fine, but then when I try to cut and paste the bit I want, all it pastes is a black square. I’ve tried playing the videos and capturing them from both Windows Media Player and the DivX player, and I get the same thing with both. I think it’s some sort of weird DRM, but I really don’t know.

Can anyone help me with this problem? There are some seriously hot pics in it for you if you do.

Ugh

2006-08-18T00:51:00.000-04:00

I suppose it’s a side effect of being sex-positive that you end up being suckered into taking nude pictures of your fifty-something roommate.

It’s a very funny thing. I gradually revealed this side of myself to him over the summer that we’ve been living together. He asked a lot of questions, and I found myself answering more truthfully than I do with most people.

But now, he’s decided that I’m the most open-minded person he’s met in a while, and he wants me to take pictures of him. In the buff. God only knows why.

I mean, I’m totally cool with nakedness in the abstract. If you want to take naughty pictures of yourself, be my guest. I do it myself, and enjoy it. But somehow, this attitude doesn’t translate into me wanting to see his...anything. I was going to put something more graphic there, and I just CAN’T EVEN BRING MYSELF TO WRITE IT. I’m no prude, not by a long stretch, but this squicks even me.

I guess part of it is the creepy factor. I’m only in this house with him for just over a week more, so it’s not that big of a deal, but I can’t help thinking that this is his attempt to get in my pants. My intuition in these matters is rarely wrong, so I can’t ignore it. I’m not afraid he’s going to rape me or anything, but I feel as though I’m being put into a very awkward situation. But I’ve made myself out to be so open-minded that I’d feel like a hypocrite if I backed out.

It’s harmless, really. I guess I’m just freaked out because I’ve never seen a guy over 25 naked in real life, ever. And it’s just so bloody weird! I would never ask someone who wasn’t either my boyfriend or a professional to take naughty pictures of me. It’s too fraught with potential problems.

So, should I do it? That question is probably moot since I’ve already agreed to it. Maybe I can take pictures with my eyes shut.

Or maybe I can just buy him a tripod and teach him how to use the self-timer. That’s what I did before my photographer-cum-darling came into the picture.

Sigh. One more reason to be ecstatic that I’m going back home soon.

Harvey Wallbanger

2006-08-17T00:52:00.000-04:00

Ouch! Looks like I’ll have to slow this down a bit using this position……

Rewind two days prior:

It was time to be earnest about carrying out task 2. A couple days earlier when I attempted the butt plug again and found that it still felt like my ass was being ripped apart, I switched to the dildo.

Lubed up, I put the dome up against my ass. Pushing it slowly plunges in. Ooo, this feels like reverse shitting. I feel the wide part of an object pass through the narrows, but going in instead of out!

I rotate the Dildo. It presses against my prostate. A couple minutes later lying on my back, my belly button depression has become Lake M’s semen.

Fast forward:

Man! I’ve been horny all day at work. I’m ready to be an exhibitionist tonight. Adora, you’re getting lucky!

My Mission: Fuck myself with the dildo and film the act.

Position Options: Lie on my back, Kneel on my bed, Lie on my side – All too boring!

Sitting back in my chair, I’m pondering, how do I want to do this? My wandering eyes stumble upon the perfect tool. Here’s a little impression I drew when I reviewed the film, of how the deed goes down.

|_ _____o
| \ ||
| /

Becomes

|_____o
|\ ||
|/

There it is ready for me, a purple, glistening dildo, taped to the wall. It wants my ass. I want to go up all the way. With the web cam placed below the dildo looking up to see the moment of insertion, I slowly edge towards the dildo. I let the dildo press against my ass. I start to push against it, wanting insertion. Ouch! Looks like I’ll have to slow down a bit using this position. I step back, purposefully relax and allow the dildo to enter me.

I have it angled in such a way that my prostate isn’t getting much play, but if I go slowly the feel of the sliding is good. I also supremely enjoy the wiggling sensation. I press my butt up against the wall, back arched and dildo in me as far as possible. I start slow and rhythmic gyrations. Mmmm!

The only thing I’d do differently is make sure I was at least partially aroused before I started! The pleasant effect of being even a little aroused is that a dick, half way to being a full fledged boner, is granted that status almost immediately when a butt plug or dildo is inserted. For instance, I put the butt plug in once, and then looked down a few seconds later and said, “Shit! Where did that come from!”

Adora has the videos now. I think she could be persuaded to showing a couple screenshots if she heard some pleases ;). Also, ask her to see the presentation video. I’ve given her a little foretaste of what she’ll see when she’s all strapped up ;).

Task 2 complete, Adora.

Anxiously, but not apprehensively, anticipating the moment of culmination,
Your loving bottom,
-M

Origin of Love

2006-08-14T00:55:00.000-04:00

Task 1

2006-08-12T13:24:00.000-04:00

How ironic. The day Adora’s package to me finally arrives I’m going with some friends to a gay bar. It’s like the butt plug and dildo she sent are the warm up exercise for later on in the night.

I knew the package contained something to do with my ass. I’m a good guesser. So opening the package I’m filled with a nervous excitement.

I’ve read the instructions, held and looked over the soon to be intruders, when I notice the box they were sent in says, “Yummy aren’t they?” – Suppose I’ll find out.

It’s ten months ago. I wake up in the middle of the night extremely aroused with a lovely boner. I caress my cock and body half groggily. I allow my hand to pass over my ass cheek. Unexpectedly it gets close to my ass. After pulling on my ass cheeks to apply some remotely given stimulation, I get up, find a piece plastic for a finger and Vaseline. With a finger inserted, I proceed to jerk off in record time. I’m extremely hard during the entire experience.

Today I’m short on time; my friends are due here in twenty minutes. Quickly, I boot up some porn to get myself in the mood. Then it’s time. I’ve lubed up the butt plug. It’s big, black, glistening, and waiting. It goes in easily for the first half of its length. There’s an increased amount of sexualized physical stimulation as it touches upon my prostate.

My instructions are to insert and jerk off. Sadly, I couldn't make it plug me up.. It hurt too much when the thick part tried to penetrate. So I resorted to wiggling the first half around. Mmmm! This prostate and ass play feels good. Like usual, bit of ass play and I’m coming before I know it.:)

Task 1 complete, Adora.

I'll be soon writing about Task 2.

Your loving bottom
-M

Nothing

2006-08-10T23:56:00.000-04:00

"Tie me down," he says. He's sitting in his office chair, shirtless, hair caked with the blue dye I'd just finished daubing on. I'd promised him something special to pass the time between applying and washing out, and I'd already spent an enjoyable few minutes kissing him and trying to avoid accidental contact with the colourful goop. His torso is freckled with blue.

I see the wisdom of his request and carry it out, winding our white nylon rope around the chair's arms and his. I tie it tight: too tight, maybe, but I ask him and he says it's fine. M finds it difficult to stay still. It's rare for him to come unless he's the active party, but we're going to conduct an experiment and see if forcing immobility has any effect.

"What should I do with my hands?" he asks, as I busy myself with removing his pants. Genuinely surprised and a bit confused, I look up into his blue eyes and say, "Nothing." His hands are tied. What other response could I give?

Naked now, he sits, legs sprawled, and fully clothed I straddle his knees and take my time, enjoying his lovely, lovely moans as I traverse his chest with my lips and push all the buttons I know. His cock rises like a drawbridge between us; it would be easier to ignore the Inco Superstack. I slide down and kneel between his legs, teasing him with little licks, tonguing his frenulum. I lap at his balls and am rewarded with deep moans. Stroking his shaft with one hand, I lick and suck his head and put my other hand on his thigh, feeling his body tense, his back arch towards me.

I continue, and he seems poised on the brink forever, his arms straining against their bonds. Finally, with an urgent cry, he comes, his cock pulsing in my mouth, his semen bypassing my tongue to shoot directly down my throat. I finish him off with a few last licks, and he proceeds to have the greatest post-orgasm reaction I have ever had the pleasure to witness: he laughs. At first it is just a chuckle, and then it is full-blown laughter, the kind that feeds on itself and makes you feel so damn good. The laughter itself is a kind of second release, almost as good as the first.

Feeling rather proud of myself, I untie him, and his hair having cooked enough, we wander to the bathroom to wash it out.

The experiment? An unequivocal success.

Topping

2006-08-10T20:36:00.000-04:00

Yeah, I've been MIA for a while. The muse just hasn't visited me lately, which is a shame, since I have a few things to write about. But in the meantime, I had an Idea to amuse me.

This Idea struck me about a week ago. I mailed a package to M to get the Idea rolling. He received it today. Here are the contents of the letter that accompanied said package.

Dear M,

So I'm starting the topping a bit early. I want you to be ready for when I come home. I want to know if shelling out $100 for a harness is worth it.

Task #1: Insert the enclosed buttplug and jerk off. Then, I want you to write about it and post it to my blog. Let me know when you get this and I'll send you an invitation so you can post to it.

Task #2: If Task #1 went well, I want you to fuck yourself with your new purple dildo. Again, write about it and post it to my blog. And this time, I want video of it as proof.

If you complete these tasks to my satisfaction, you'll be rewarded when I get home (and you'll have to write about that, too.)

Love ya,
Adora

Greetings, Fleshbotters!

2006-07-17T09:10:00.000-04:00

I think what you're looking for is here, but feel free to make yourself at home!

Handy tip #56

2006-07-13T01:51:00.000-04:00

For the guys in the audience:

If you ever find yourself getting an unwanted boner, here's a useful tip courtesy of my darling M:

Do long multiplication in your head. It'll go away in a jiffy.

When long multiplication becomes too easy, try long division.

(I'm high on BC bud right now, so jokes may appear funnier than they are.)

Love letter

2006-07-10T01:51:00.000-04:00

Is it normal to want someone this badly? Is it usual to harbor such lust that the mere sight of his hands, his large, strong, golden hands, turns me to silvery fire? I remember one night, playing pool in my parents' basement, watching his impossibly long arms, his fingers gripping the cue, and wanting him to bend me over the couch and fuck me right then. It took every ounce of my self-control to appear nonchalant.

I could write a thousand florid, purple words to describe his body; such an exercise would be almost, but not quite, as pleasurable as feasting on him in the flesh. He is beautiful like a thoroughbred horse is beautiful: all long limbs and graceful strength. He'll probably scoff at being called graceful, but he's not like other tall men. They are all awkward gangly arms and legs and rounded shoulders whereas he owns his height, and makes it sexy. When we went to Wreck Beach those few weekends ago, we swam naked and I, being cold, left the water before him. As I dried off I watched him, and was pierced neatly through by his unselfconcious beauty. He was like Venus emerging from the surf, only, you know, a guy.

The things he does to me, well, I've written about them before. He knows me, largely by intution. The wonder of that hasn't quite worn off yet. The sheer pleasure of it all, the constant fleshly wanting, is almost frightening in its intensity. Now that we're apart, we have phone sex and I, nonverbal as always, rub myself and listen to his familiar, low voice, cling to it until its sound and my imminent orgasm are the only things in my universe.

The amazing thing, the shocking thing, is that despite all this, I haven't, for a second, been afraid that I'm losing myself. I am no stranger to lust, but this is both alike and different, an all-consuming desire in which neither of us are consumed. Like Moses' burning bush.

On the last night of his recent visit, we lay together in my bed after sweet love had been made. He had his head on my chest, a switch for us as it is usually the other way around, and I was stroking his golden hair with painstaking tenderness, wanting to memorize the way it felt under my fingers, the sight of him, this easy companionship. I was suddenly seized with the desire, the need, to tell him something. The weight of it settled in my chest, and I could not let it out. In fact, I didn't even know what it was. I just knew that it was massively important.

He left before I could sort it out for myself, but I have since realized that it was only (only!) that I loved him, and there was no adequate way to express it. That is, perhaps, a fundamental problem with love: the inability to really show its depths. So I lust, and I fuck, and I long, and I have phone sex and write poetic missives and post them to my blog because these are the only ways I know, beyond those three flimsy, throwaway words, to demonstrate how much I really feel. The intensity, depth, magnitude of my love.

Crazy places I have had sex

2006-07-09T16:04:00.000-04:00

include, but are not limited to, the following:

- a university's sports field (at dusk).
- on the grass in front of a campfire with hungry raccoons surrounding us. (I think my dislike of raccoons originates from this moment.)
- a Cessna 172. In the air. With the pilot.
- a univerity dorm room occupied by a presumably sleeping roommate. We made use of both the bed and the closet.
- the front seat of a car in a busy parking lot.
- in the 7' by 5' by 2' crawlspace under concrete stairs in a university building.
- in the bowels of the service area of another university building.

Adding to this list whenever I can...

Would you let me...?

2006-07-01T03:58:00.000-04:00

I want your ass, my darling. I gave you mine, last week, and turnaround is fair play, is it not?

I want you on your knees, elbows against the bed. I want your back arched and that round, firm ass in the air: an offering to me. I want to look down at you the way you've looked down at me countless times before. I want to take you like you've taken me.

I want to feel your smooth skin, caress it with my hands and lips, and then redden it with slaps. You like to do that to me, you sexy, evil bastard; now it's your turn to find out what it's like. You'll love it - I know I do.

I want to watch you stroke your lovely cock while my fingers trail delicately between your cheeks. My tongue will follow the same path my fingers did, wet and a little ticklish, to stop at your asshole. Dirty, you say? No, not this. It's rather wonderful, actually, to lick you here. You'll be tense at first, but you'll relax when you realize how amazing it feels. When you're melting under my touch, when your cock is hard, when you want it badly enough, I'll lube up a finger and slip it inside you. I already know you love this. Keep touching yourself, but don't come. Not yet.

I bought something for you, baby. Your very own dildo. It's time for the penetrator to be penetrated.

I'll press it gently against your ass and it will slide in, slowly, slowly. Like I was, last week, you'll be surprised and pleased at how little it hurts. And how good it feels.

I'll work it slowly in and out of you, and, I imagine, you'll work your cock a bit faster. What a sexy, wanton scene it will be: you, tall, lithe, on your hands and knees, masturbating with a dildo in your ass. I can already hear the sounds you'll make.

Tell me, darling, what's it like to be on the receiving end? How does it feel for you? Do you want to come? Come for me, baby.

And you will.

Good boy.

Last weekend

2006-07-01T02:06:00.000-04:00

Last weekend, M came to visit. It had been almost two months since I'd seen him last. Needless to say, I now have no shortage of things to write about, but words are difficult for me right now. I must get everything down soon, lest I forget some of the lovely details, but I seem to be blocked.

Now that he's gone again, I miss him more than I thought possible. Certainly more than the first time we parted. A strange phenomenon, that. I don't understand it, but I sure am glad for it. Loving is such an exquisitely painful pleasure.

What I wouldn't give to feel his arms around me again.

Soon.

Ice Queen

2006-06-21T02:33:00.000-04:00

"It's all right for guys like you and Court to fuck everyone but when I do it I get dumped for innocent little twits like Cecile. God forbid I exude confidence and enjoy sex! Do you think I relish the fact that I have to act like Mary Sunshine 24/7 so that I can be considered a lady? I'm the Marcia fucking Brady of the Upper East Side and sometimes, I want to kill myself. So there's your psychoanalysis, Dr. Freud."

-Sarah Michelle Gellar as Kathryn Merteuil in Cruel Intentions

I think I was 15 years old when I first saw the film Cruel Intentions. I loved it. The decadent visual style, the opulent, colour-soaked sets and the beautiful clothes made me wish I inhabited that world. Ryan Philippe is a gorgeous man, of course, and he played Sebastian must more likeably than Rupert Everett did in the analagous role of Valmont in the French-language version of Dangerous Liasons. Both Reese Witherspoon and Selma Blair are painfully irritating in their roles, though. Selma Blair as Cecile is unrealistically naive, although her quirks are amusing, and Reese Witherspoon as Annette is just plain boring. There's nothing about her that I find compelling and I find it hard to believe that Sebastian could become so enamoured of her. I was, however, drawn to Sarah Michelle Gellar in the role of Kathryn.

She's the only strong, confident and interesting woman in the whole film. The rest are mere caricatures. That's why I found myself getting annoyed when I rewatched it recently: why is this strong woman the only character who is universally vilified at the end of the movie? Sure, she is deceitful, she sleeps around, she's fake. But so are the majority of the characters in the film, all of whom get away scot-free in the audience's eyes. Sebastian schemes just as much as Kathryn does, and he's practically a martyr (or a saint?) by the end. The only part of the movie where the writer seems sympathetic to Kathryn is the monologue I quote above. One gets a sense of Kathryn's inner turmoil and the things that drive her. Unfortuanetly, this kind of insight into her motivation is sorely lacking in the rest of the movie.

I think this speaks to the fear some people have of strong, sexually confident women. They somehow need to be marginalized in order for people to feel safe. Kathryn is written as an ice queen and cocaine addict. Others are called sluts, or written off in other ways. It just reminds me that no matter how far society has advanced towards sexual liberation (particularily for women) the more the old sterotypes are still alive and well.

Inexplicable

2006-06-17T01:47:00.000-04:00

I have nothing to say, except that I feel remarkably like I did when I posted this, last year. One of the only times I have ever outright lied on this blog, and yet it is also one of the most honest posts I've ever written.

Declaration

HNT #8

2006-06-07T23:49:00.000-04:00

Nothing particularily sexy or revealing today; just enjoying the feel of sand under my feet.

Beyond This Dark House

2006-06-01T03:09:00.000-04:00

Sorry...my creativity is a casualty of my fucked-up head. I'll be letting other people's words speak for me for now. No HNT tonight. Maybe tomorrow.

1.

And I was coming home
these past two weeks,
feeling my way,
letting the pace of walking
ease over barefoot stones.
Moving again
into the rhythms of
summer on the prairie,
rediscovering the steps,
hesitations,
the afternoon languor.

Last night over coffee
someone told me
you were also home.

2.

You've walked beside me,
never knowing,
for six years now.
We've been together
in so many places
as I travelled, under skies
with doubled moons.

Beyond this dark house
a train is running away
into the night plain.
We've all had
dreams break,
fantasies we shaped.

3.

Your restless fingers
in mine. A night lane.
Streetlamps before and behind,
shadows thrown two ways,

you will tell me:
'If I think about walking,
about actually walking,
I find it hard to move my feet.'

Still, a moment,
both of us,
suspended
like midsummer
at the centre of all
turning things.

You will raise your hands to my shoulders.
There may or may not be a moon.

4.

The train has long since
followed its tracked path
among the farms.

Far out in the very dark,
summer wheat is rising
from the rich, cared-for soil.

The shortest night wheels
past this window, stars
dropping behind the trees.

Somewhere there are bonfires
for St. John, somewhere
fires for the summer king.

5.

It's so late. For this,
for everything, for being still
awake beside a window.

Sure of very little tonight,
I do know, or remember,
as if from birth,

that here where we've both
returned, the yielded grain
has always been the oracle of the earth.

And so it is that risen wheat
I will try now to invoke,
without any easings of use

to guide me with rounded words
out beyond light
into the swaying fields

where the silos wait.
And lacking not only words
but also an unspinning thought

to thread upon the dark,
I will ask only that
we may each be whole,

together or apart,
in this unstrange place,
under the one moon of this sky.

- Guy Gavriel Kay

(I highly recommend this guy's book: Beyond This Dark House. He writes gorgeous fantasy novels, too, but that volume of poetry is his best work.)

First year redux

2006-05-31T01:39:00.000-04:00

A reader commented a while ago on my first year post:

"...it's a shame that a potential lifetime of right is being lost because
of a little wrong. If he's not shaming you, then don't shame yourself. When
you're in love, you fuck up. That's the nature of the thing. You open your
heart, and you're vulnerable, and it's scary, and you do things you later
regret. But you learn from it, and you stick with it, because what else can
you do? Nothing that's worth having is easy.Right now, you don't have what
you had. If you continue hiding, you may never have it again. Can you live
with that?"

After writing that post, I decided to contact the person in question. Yes, he's wonderful, and I probably have some lingering feelings for him, but I remembered all over again why we broke up. There WERE reasons; it wasn't a random, flighty thing as I probably implied in my first post. They were not things I could live with.

My memories tend to cloud after a very short time. I conveniently forget all the lousy stuff and remember only the good things. I remember sensations, feelings, smells, but rarely the way we used to argue about inane things or his occasional immaturity or his possessiveness. I guess this is a good thing in the grand scheme, but it means I'm prone to occasional bouts of intense nostalgia. Y'all were witness to one of those the other day.

I'm a bit of a transient, in more ways that one. At this point in time, I'm on my fourth city and my sixth boyfriend since I started university three years ago. I feel rootless sometimes, and alone, regardless of who's surrounding me. I wander partly out of necessity and partly out of a search for something better. Something that will hold me. Something to give me roots.

Because of this wandering, my relationships can sometimes feel truncated. Unfinished. I sometimes feel a need to revist them, to get closure so I can continue unfettered.

I'm feeling the need for a little closure right now. I am currently in contact with several old boyfriends, and it's starting to mess with my head. I need to clear the air with all of them and start over again.

What a jungle your heart becomes after a few years of dating. I'm dreading what I'll be like when I'm 35.

A Murder of One

2006-05-30T00:09:00.000-04:00

Blue morning, blue morning
Wrapped in strands of fist and bone
Curiosity, kitten
Doesn't have to mean you're on your own

You can look outside your window
He doesn't have to know
We can talk a while, baby
We can take it nice and slow

All your life is such a shame, shame, shame
All your love is just a dream, dream, dream

Are you happy where you're sleeping?
Does he keep you safe and warm?
Does he tell you when you're sorry?
Does he tell you when you're wrong?

I've been watching you for hours
It's been years since we were born
We were perfect when we started
I've been wondering where we've gone

All your life is such a shame, shame shame
All your love is just a dream, dream, dream

I dreamt I saw you walking
Up a hillside in the snow
Casting shadows on the winter sky
As you stood there, counting crows

One for sorrow
Two for joy
Three for girls
Four for boys
Five for silver
Six for gold
Seven for a secret never to be told

There's a bird that nests inside you
Sleeping underneath your skin
When you open up your wings to speak
I wish you'd let me in

All your life is such a shame, shame, shame
All your love is just a dream, dream, dream
Open up your eyes, you can see the flames, flames, flames
Of your wasted life
You should be ashamed

You don't wanna waste your life baby

I walk along these hillsides
In the summer 'neath the sunshine
I am feathered by the moonlight
Falling down on me

Change, change, change

- Counting Crows

I did it...

2006-05-28T03:30:00.000-04:00

I finally plucked up the courage to get my VCH. I'd walked past the studio (Next! in Vancouver, if anyone's interested) three times over the past week before I forced myself to go in today. I am such a chickenshit some days. It's a cool place though. They have fantastic decor; the room I got pierced in has this chair that lookes like something Elvira would sit in, sort of spiderwebby with candle holders.

I'm not going to lie, it hurt like a motherfucker for about a half-a-second. But then it was all over. And my piercer was very cute, so that eased some of the pain.

I just washed it before sitting down to write this, and though it didn't hurt on the way home, it stings a bit now from the prodding. But it looks so pretty! I keep pulling down my pants to look at it. Is that weird?

So now I just have to keep it clean and keep my hands off it for the next 2 weeks or so. That is going to be incredibly hard, but it's worth it to have such a decorative cunt!

Part 2 of why Adora is very, very lucky

2006-05-27T00:33:00.000-04:00

(The following is probably not too appealing to heterosexual males and/or lesbians, but everyone else, enjoy!)

Click here for more!

From last night's webcam festivities:

That's my M: all 7.5 inches of him. Seriously, we measured.

What a fox.

I'm salivating on my keyboard.

HNT #7

2006-05-25T00:39:00.000-04:00

This picture is the last of that series, I think. I have more, but they all show my face. Next week: a fresh series, possibly featuring a shiny new bauble!

Benefits

2006-05-23T00:13:00.000-04:00

One of the best parts of telling M about this blog is that I get to post pictures of him! Ladies and gentlemen, I give you:

my boyfriend's killer six-pack abs! I am one lucky girl. *squeal* Too bad they're across the country from me right now.

Getting pierced

2006-05-21T23:52:00.000-04:00

So I'm thinking I might get pierced. Either an industrial, nipples, or clit hood. I've wanted to for quite a while, and now that I've moved out of my parents' house again, I can heal the secret ones in peace. There's also no boyfriend around to mess with them before they're healed, eliminating at least one temptation (masturbation, of course, will still be a problem.)

I love the look of a vertical clit hood piercing. It fits in so nicely with the anatomy, and I hear it feels great. Plus, it's secret, easy and quick to heal, and of the more risque piercings has the least chance of leaving permanent scars. I love the nipple piercings too (with barbells) but I'm a little worried about healing and scarring. I LOVE my nipples and I'm not sure I want to risk messing them up. If the clit piercing goes well, I might do those after. And the industrial, I think, just looks cool. It's not secret though, so my parents might have a fit when they see it, and I think cartilage is the most painful and toughest to heal place for a piercing.

Anyone have any suggestions for me? Any experiences you want to share?

UPDATE: Here's some info and pictures for the curious among you (some of the pics are a bit extreme in my mind but to each his own).

Industrial
VCH
Nipples

First year

2006-05-20T00:49:00.000-04:00

I met him at the lowest point in my life. If I hadn't been so vulnerable I probably wouldn't have let him in. But I was, and I did, and he offered a little bit of solace. I treated him so shabbily, so often, that it's a wonder he stuck by me. But he did.

My god, but we had some amazing times. We'd get higher than weather balloons and then lie in bed and giggle, make love, giggle some more, drift off, then wake up in the morning, a bit fuzzy-headed, and make love again. We fucked like bunnies, the two of us, but that's not what I remember about him the most. What I remember is sleeping with him. We lived in the same building, so it was a simple thing to wander down to his floor at 3 am after a long night of studying or drinking or smoking and crawl into bed next to him. He was always so warm, his bed toasty with his body heat, and he always smelled unique and so damn good. It wasn't cologne or deodorant, it's just how he smelled naturally, and I loved it. He smelled sweet and exotic, like he'd just been in a spice shop or burned incense. I loved walking through the chilly halls, then sliding across the sheets to his warm little pocket, smelling his scent, gathering him to me, spoon-fashion, resting my cheek on his back between his shoulderblades. He wasn't good looking, he wasn't particularily tall or athletic, but he was smart and loyal and honest with a barely corrupted innocence that I adored. I grew to love him, something that surprised me then. He was not the sort of person I expected to fall in love with. He was a boy struggling to become a man, and I had until then only known men. I had thought I only wanted men. But he charmed me, and refreshed me, and went a long way towards healing some of my wounds. He was there for me in a way no one had been before.

I hurt him badly, more than once. I hid things from him, I abused his loyalty. He always took me back. I can remember so vividly one night after we fought, I was so stubborn and so was he, and I was sure it was over. Unable to sleep, very late at night, I wrote him an email, apologizing, explaining. Unable to sleep, he got it and answered. Apologized. Begged me to come down and see him. I did so, and will never forget the feeling of relief that washed over me when I held him in my arms and told him I loved him for the first time. We lay together on his bed, his head on my chest, crying softly with relief, my hand stroking his glossy black hair over and over, finally knowing what it was to give yourself to another. To surrender. He taught me that.

The day came when we parted ways, and I saw someone else for a while, someone I should have loved but didn't care a fig for. We broke up, this throwaway boy and I, and I visited my ex. When I saw him I couldn't resist it. It was uncontrollable, such that when we were alone together I had to touch him. It was like magnets snapping together. I kissed his warm neck and inhaled his scent and I was a goner all over again.

Fickle me, a few months later I was restless and moving again. I've barely spoken to him since.

Complete and unexpurgated

2006-05-17T04:20:00.000-04:00

And he realized as he went into her that this was the thing he had to do, to come into tender touch, without losing his pride or his dignity or his integrity as a man. After all, if she had money and means, and he had none, he should be too proud and honorable to hold back his tenderness from her on that account. 'I stand for the touch of bodily awareness between human beings,' he said to himself, 'and the touch of tenderness. And she is my mate. And it is a battle against the money, and the machine, and the insentient ideal monkeyishness of the world. And she will stand behind me there. Thank God I've got a woman! Thank God I've got a woman who is with me, and tender and aware of me. Thank God she's not a bully, nor a fool. Thank God she's a tender, aware woman.' And as his seed sprang into her, his soul sprang towards her too, in the creative act that is far more than procreative.

(D.H. Lawrence - Lady Chatterley's Lover)

So I finally told him. Here's how I did it. Before I left for BC, I gave him a copy of Lady Chatterley's Lover, which is one of my favourite books of all time, with the url written on the inside margin of a strategic page. My reasoning was this: if, on my advice, he takes the time to read this, a book that is not, at first glance, his style, then I know I can trust him. If he doesn't bother to read it, then I know it's not worth telling him.

He had it read in a little over a week. Hurrah.

I love this book for a multitude of reasons. The clandestine nature of Connie and Mellors' meetings resonates with me because too often I have also conducted clandestine meetings. I've often had to leave before I was ready, had to steal kisses under stairwells, in cars, in music practice rooms to avoid disapproving authority figures. I've felt like I was under siege sometimes, lovers in a dangerous time and all that. Like my love was a crime. Like I was supposed to be asexual, a good little girl with my books and my schoolwork. Living a mental life, like Clifford expects of Connie.

But it's so empty, that life. So dry and boring. Lacking real passion, real beauty, a real connection with another human being.

I love sex not just because it feels good, but because it can touch something primal, something immune to the bullshit that's rampant. If you're doing it right, it's impossible to hold back in those final, ecstatic moments. You're allowed to let go, to drop the last of your masks and reveal yourself in a way that can't be convincingly faked. It can be a way to rebel against those authority figures, those proponents of the machine, as well as the most powerful way to connect with someone else. Someone to stand with you against the "insentient ideal monkeyishness of the world." Sex can still be authentic, in a world where very few things are.

I love Lady Chatterley's Lover because it leaves the bullshit behind. It's the story of two people who let passion guide them, and the rest of the world can go hang. I'd like to follow their lead.

Computer woes

2006-05-13T20:15:00.000-04:00

I've been gone longer than I meant to be. I arrived on the West Coast safe and sound, but unfortunately, my computer did not. Here's a helpful hint: never ship your desktop by Greyhound without its factory packaging or a hell of a lot of bubble wrap. It'll be ok, sure, but only after a lengthy stay at the doctor's (aka Future Shop). I'll be posting from internet cafes until then.

Oh boy, have things ever progressed around here though! I'm in my new digs, in a large Canadian city that starts with the letter V (and isn't Victoria). It's pretty fucking awesome here, albeit a tad lonely since I know practically no one. I'm missing M acutely; it would be a lot more awesome if he were here. Plus, I'm horny as all fuck and it's only been a little over a week since I left. This is going to be a long summer.

Some news: I gave M the url to this blog and I'm assuming by now he's read it in its entirety. It feels a bit weird to be this naked, but I think it worked out all right. More on this later, when I'm not paying $6 an hour for the 'net and have composed something in advance.

Also, something was revealed to me: something so shocking I can scarcely believe it, even now.

I was the first girl M ever had sex with.

Yeah. That's right. He just told me. To get the full effect of the no-fucking-way factor, I refer you to this post. And this one. He's just so damn good. He calls it beginner's luck. I think it's my luck, to have landed someone this naturally amazing. Also probably more to come on this topic.

I can't wait 'til my computer's fixed and I can catch up with everyone in blogland. I miss it like crazy.

Cocksucker

2006-04-22T15:33:00.000-04:00

I mentioned a few days ago that sometimes I think about licking pussy more than I think about sucking cock.

This is not one of those times.

Right now, there is nothing I would like better than my lover's cock in my mouth. His gorgeous, thick, cut cock, all hard and warm and...

Ahem. Where was I?

I really do love giving head. I can't remember if I've talked about this before. Probably. In any case, it's been a fun and frequent activity of mine in the past. I've been the aggressor in almost all of my relationships to date, and that means I've given a lot of blowjobs, and I think I was pretty good at it. I certainly didn't get any complaints; in fact, I believe I was called a "goddess" on at least one occasion.

However, my last relationship before M, (D, if you remember) changed all that. He had a truly intimidating array of hang-ups, some of which not even I could conquer. One of those was his guilt at receiving oral sex. We were together for over a year, and I think I made him come exactly once from oral, and I could probably count on two hands the number of times he came, period, in my presence. I don't think it was my fault, since I've had my share of partners and none of them had any trouble in that department. It was all in his head.

I'm sure you can imagine, though, the havoc this wreaked on my self-esteem. All the questions began to deluge me: am I not sexy enough? do I not pay enough attention to what he likes? is my pussy too loose? am I a lousy lover? The thing that took the biggest hit, however, was my confidence in my oral skills. I got so sick and tired of blowing him to absolutely no effect that I just stopped. I decided I must have suddenly lost my touch: a very depressing realization.

I think that in the end, what became a very unsatisfactory love life was a big reason for us breaking up this January. When I hooked up with M, I was pretty relieved to be reminded that I wasn't, in fact, as bad in bed as my previous relationship had lead me to believe. My oral skills, however, had taken a permanent hit. I just didn't feel confident enough to put myself out there. I was too afraid that he wouldn't like what I did, so I barely tried.

I'm ready to change that. We only have a few more nights together before I move to the West Coast, and I'm determined to spend as much of that time as possible with his cock in my mouth.

***

And with that, I will be MIA for the next two weeks or so, while I do some travelling and then ship my computer to my new summer abode. I should have a backlog of fresh writing to post by then.

***

And to finish, a gratuitous sexy shot. Catch y'all on the flip side.

HNT #6 - Back in the game

2006-04-20T09:16:00.000-04:00

From the aforementioned photography session with M. This is his favourite shot, and I think it's mine, too.

Fantasies

2006-04-19T13:00:00.000-04:00

I have a request from M for a fantasy in written form, since I'm so damn shy at talking about them out loud. Strangely enough, I can't think of anything! Ok...not true. I can think of things. Just nothing that can be fulfilled by just one guy. Like:

- a gangbang. I had this dream where I got sent to jail, and waiting for me in my cell was a whole bunch of guys waiting to fuck me. I distinctly remember thinking that jail wasn't nearly as bad as people make it out to be.

- a MFF threesome. Though I'm not specifically attracted to women, I'm SO curious as to what it's like to fool around with one. There are times when I think more about licking pussy than I do about sucking cock. Plus, a threesome is just something I really need to stroke off my sexual to-do list.

- double penetration. This fantasy has been on my mind forever. I've never even been fucked in the ass (objects, yes, but never a penis) but I want it. I'm sure it would blow my mind.

I've already told him I want to get a strap-on and do him in the ass. He politely declined.

This war of love

2006-04-17T23:46:00.000-04:00

How she learned to flush love letters down the toilet, to leave no hairs on the borrowed comb, to gather up hair pins, to erase traces of lipstick anywhere, to brush off clouds of face powder.

Her eyes like the eyes of a spy.

Her habits like the habits of a spy. How she lay all her clothes on one chair, as if she might be called away suddenly and must not leave any traces of her presence.

She knew all the trickeries in this war of love.

(Anais Nin - A Spy in the House of Love)

I am in love. Again.

At first, it was just lust, and I liked it that way. After years of falling tumultuously in and out of love (that fucking open manhole, as Chelsea Girl put it once), I wanted something pure and simple, something uncomplicated. You're hot, I'm horny, let's fuck. None of that relationship girlfriend boyfriend bullshit.

I've had clingy, possessive, moody boys, and I hated it and ate it up in equal measures. I both enjoyed and despised being desired. But I always fell for it. I loved their insecurities, their vulnerability. I loved their messy, complicated selves because they loved me back. But at the same time, I resented the implied ownership of being a girlfriend. I was always ready to flee, and flee I did.

It still amazes me, the utter ease with which I dropped one man in exchange for another. It sounds so callous, and I suppose it is, but a total absence of emotion has accompanied almost all of my breakups. Numbness takes over, and that man I loved, comforted, clung to in bed, becomes a distant, painless memory. There are some I have loved and now barely remember. Somewhere, though, the experience lingers, and I feel it like a callous on my heart.

Of course, there's the flip side: the ones that stay with you. My first love/fuck will forever be seared into my brain. A long-distance lover, whom I hurt badly, still lives there too, making sure I never make the same mistakes again.

Do I even know what love is? Can it be love if I treat it with such disregard? I don't know. I know that whatever I feel is real, no matter which label I put on it. It's starting to take its toll, though. The scar tissue on my heart is becoming difficult to pierce.

Pierce it he has, though. He called me his girlfriend and I knew it had started. Then we really connected, that one night, and I knew this was something. Maybe just really great sexual chemistry, but something. I've only gone deeper since then. I didn't really want this, this complicated love thing, not again. Not now. But here it is, and you don't say no to love. Even if it is a war, sometimes.

Adora, the middle-of-exams edition

2006-04-13T16:51:00.000-04:00

I want my HNT!

2006-04-13T16:27:00.000-04:00

I've neglected to post any HNT pics for the past two weeks. I really miss it, but exams are draining my creativity, and I'm basically out of stockpiled shots. It's frustrating, too, taking all my pictures myself. There's only so much you can do with a self-timer.

That's why, this weekend, M and I will be taking pictures of each other. We're both closet exhibitionists (oh, the irony) and it's a fun and sexy way to spend time together. He still doesn't know about the blog, so none of his pics will end up here, but mine sure will!

In other news, I'll be travelling for school from April 23 to May 2, and shortly thereafter I'll be moving across the country to the West Coast for the summer. I'll probably be quiet for two weeks or so. Once I get to my summer abode, however, expect plenty of fantasy writing. Since I'm leaving M behind, I'll have to satisfy myself in ways that don't include a flesh-and-blood partner.

That time of year again...

2006-04-08T16:21:00.000-04:00

I've been making myself scarce for the past week or so, mostly because it's exam time and I need to spend a lot of time studying. However, it's also the time of year when my parents go away on vacation, leaving me alone in the house (if that's where I happen to be living at the time.) And of course, when the cats are away, the mice will play!

I've used that phrase so often in the past little while that M has taken to calling my parents "the cats." Ahem.

Yes, yes, the mice have been playing. I had the most lovely debauched three days before my first exam, then we went our separate ways while the educational machine had its way with us. Tonight we're reconvening to continue what we started.

I believe the rope may be involved.

A brief break

2006-04-03T23:25:00.000-04:00

I'd just like to announce that I met one of my heroes tonight.

Romeo Dallaire.

I shook his hand. He signed my book. I can die happy now.

(I realize that this may compromise my identity somewhat. I don't care. I'm thrilled.)

Back to your regularily scheduled sexual programming - check out the Sugasm below.

Sugasm #28

2006-04-03T23:04:00.000-04:00

The best of the sex blogs by the bloggers who blog them.

Thoughts on Sex: Sex Commentary, Sex Advice, Blogging

All About Oral: Odor, Etiquette, and Why Some Women Don’t Want It(cuntinglinguist.blogspot.com)
Anatomy Lessons Part 2 (swelteringcelt.com)
And it Burns, Burns, Burns… (sexeteria.blogspot.com)
Classic S Spot - More on Masturbation (shayssexcolumn.blogspot.com)
Damn Leeches! (anawtymouz.blogspot.com)
His Addiction (onaniajournal.blogspot.com)
Love Conquers Some But Not All (realadultsex.com)
Pussy on the Loose (taratainton.com)

Funny / Sex News / Grab Bag

10 Lies Pornographers Tell (sugarbank.com)
Angelina Puts Collagen Rumors to Bed (tgp.com)
I Bet You Didn’t Know the Ancient Greeks Had Strap-ons… (tirepaddle.com)
Last Night Dick Slipped… (janeluvsdick.com)
Sex in the News - Celebrity Sex Tales (seskuality.com)
Shit Week (nakedloftparty.com)

Reviews and Interviews

Interview with Sophia (chillivanilla.com/blg/)
Sugarjoy Review: Xervious Anime Labs (sugarjoy.com)

BDSM and Fetish

Always Ready… (seanandmel.blogspot.com)
Bath Time (ropegirl.blogspot.com)
Daddy’s Little Girl (redvelvetropeburn.blogspot.com)
Edging (sheenv.blogspot.com)

Learning the Ropes (avaadora.blogspot.com)
Missing the Kink (mnsss.blogspot.com)
Put in Place I (lifeashis.com)
Recurring Springtime Fantasy (aliferestarted.blogspot.com)
Redemption - Part II (nyc-urban-gypsy.blogspot.com)
Tied Down and Spanked (auntyagony.net)

NSFW Pics

Ariel X Again and Again… (eroticandy.blogspot.com)
Christine Young Review (internetisforporn.com)
Free Pics (seska4lovers.com)
Maddi and Rene on Sapphic Erotica (simply-sapphicerotica.com)
Mim shot by Penelope for Abby Winters (iloveabbywinters.com)
Mirrors (pspporn.com)
Misato by Yousoudo for Met-Art (sensualarousalblog.com)
Naughty, Nasty HNT! (sexblogthis.blogspot.com)
Sunshine (lumpesse.com)

Erotica/Erotic Experiences

Between the Biker & the Wall (bikersballsandteacherstits.blogspot.com)
Cock Tease (sexyukgirl.blogspot.com)
First Meeting (secretsofadirtygirl.blogspot.com)
Hard Fucking (everythingoze.blogspot.com)
I Saw. I Came. I was Conquered. (theholidaylife.blogspot.com)
Last Night (whatsexmaycome.blogspot.com)
Magically Delicious (fourstate.blogspot.com)
Masturbating in the Car (alwaysarousedgirl.blogspot.com)
Masturbation and Memories (philosophyofbeing.blogspot.com)
Please, I Would Love A Kiss (suburbansexpot.blogs.com)
Secret Reads: The Roommate (secretbrain.blogspot.com)
Shhh… Do You Hear That? (v-boat.blogspot.com)
Snatched Moments (gentlygently.blogspot.com)
Sunday Sweetness (antisojo.livejournal.com)
When He Watches (tangysweet.blogspot.com)

Experiences

From Fantasy to Reality (emergingontheotherside.blogspot.com)
Kicking Myself In The Ass (stilettodiaries.blogspot.com)
Life with an Easy Girlfriend (hotcouple.co.uk)

Sex Work

Packing for a Spanking Shoot (adelehaze.com)
Wearing Your Inner Vixen (tinastrangeworld.blogspot.com)

Announcements and Sex Politics

Britney Spears Pro-Life Statue (spiritsex.blogspot.com)
Jorge Rivas (sugarpit.com)
New Book Review (cakenyc.com)

Join the Sugasm

HNT #5 - More Sun

2006-03-30T08:59:00.000-05:00

Another sunlight + post-shower picture. I'm following the theme of showing my butt today, since that seems like a popular thing to do (and since you guys just missed out on it last week.) I'm taking a picture of a reflection of a reflection here. There are a lot of mirrors in that room.

A word about my name

2006-03-29T15:54:00.000-05:00

I named my blog Ava Adora. I go by the name Adora. I have no idea why.

Well, actually, I know why. I was obsessed with the song "Ava Adore" by the Smashing Pumpkins, and I was under the mistaken impression that it was, in fact, called "Ava Adora." That's what I get for obtaining all my music from illegitimate sources, I suppose.

I started off calling myself Ava, which at least made a modicum of sense, but decided I didn't like the sound of it. So I went with Adora instead. So now "Ava" is a curious little appendage at the beginning of my pseudonym, and I have no idea what it means or what it's really doing there. For someone who usually over-analyses things to a tiresome degree, this unknown is uncomfortable.

As odd as it is, I don't want to change it, now that I'm starting to be known by it. Besides, I still like the song. It's where my little tagline comes from, albeit modified. So I'm sticking with it. I've gotten a few emails from people addressing me as "Ava," though, so for the record, my name is Adora.

I used to post song lyrics here when I couldn't think of anything to write. I haven't done that in a while, but it's perhaps appropriate by way of explaination for my meaningless name to post the lyrics for "Ava Adore."

It's you that I adore
You'll always be my whore
You'll be a mother to my child
And a child to my heart

We must never be apart
We must never be apart

Lovely girl, you're the beauty in my world
Without you, there aren't reasons left to find
And you'll pull your crooked teeth
You'll be perfect just like me
You'll be a lover in my bed
And a gun to my head

We must never be apart
We must never be apart

Lovely girl, you're the murder in my world
Dressing coffins for the souls I've left to die
Drinking mercury to the mystery
Of all that you should ever leave behind
In time

In you I see dirty
In you I count stars
In you I feel so pretty
In you I taste God
In you I feel so hungry
In you I crash cars

We must never be apart

Drinking mercury to the mystery
Of all that you should ever seek to find
Lovely girl, you're the murder in my world
Dressing coffins for the souls I've left behind
In time

We must never be apart
And you'll always be my whore
'Cause you're the one that I adore
And you'll pull your crooked teeth
You'll be perfect just like me

In you I feel so dirty
In you I crash cars
In you I feel so pretty
In you I taste God

We must never be apart

Learning the ropes

2006-03-26T21:44:00.000-05:00

M let me tie him up a few nights ago. I say "let" because it was all too clear that he maintained the upper hand, despite being bound hand and foot, blindfolded, and stretched out naked on his bed. It was fun, though, despite a significant amount of nervousness on my part.

A couple of moments stand out.

I stood over him and dripped hot wax from a paraffin candle onto his taut belly, his chest, his thighs. I loved watching him, tensing as he waited for the drop to fall, unsure of where it would land, and then squirming most delightfully when it did. I put my hand over it to ease the burning and then began again.

I straddled him and ran an ice cube over his wax-encrusted torso, feeling him shudder as I passed over particularily sensitive patches. I must say, he was a bit bossy for a captive, directing me here and there, althought he always said please, which was nice. I lamented the lack of an effective gag a few times, but to be honest I like his forthrightness, even if he was topping from the bottom.

I discovered that he likes his nipples licked, not lightly like I do, but hard, with a flat tongue. He began to pant a bit, telling me breathlessly that he could feel it in his cock, like I was licking that instead of his nipple, and I could feel it swell under me as proof. My hand wandered to my clit. "I'm touching myself," I said, "I'm so wet." A groan was his only reply.

His cock was rock hard, and I let it graze my cunt, teasing him and myself. He started to beg me: "Please, please, let me penetrate you." My god, it was fucking hot. I went on like this for a while, me barely touching him and him literally begging for it. Finally, finally I gave it to him, but painfully slowly, my cunt swallowing him incrementally.

It was some of the most intense sex I've ever had.

An hour or two later he let me have it for teasing and torturing him, taking me roughly from behind and anchoring himself with fistfuls of my hair. "Ride that cock," he growled fiercely as I pushed myself back towards him like a rutting animal.

Again, some of the most intense sex I've ever had.

Sugasm #27

2006-03-25T14:57:00.000-05:00

The best of the sex blogs by the bloggers who blog them.

BDSM/Fetish

HNT #4 - Assume the Position (avaadora.blogspot.com)
I Don’t Mind it Rough (tangysweet.blogspot.com)
Kneeling (alwaysarousedgirl.blogspot.com)
Making Love in the Rain Revisited (redvelvetropeburn.blogspot.com)
Monde Imaginaire (theninthwave.typepad.com)
The Notorious Bettie Page (sugarbank.com)
Sadist Taking What is His (theheronclan.blogspot.com)
Spanking Site Review: Bars and Stripes (adelehaze.com)
Thigh High Boots (video) (thebootcam.com)
Training and Surrender (aliferestarted.blogspot.com)
Choices - Part Five (masterenigma.blogspot.com)
D/s Correspondence (barbiebaby09.livejournal.com)

Erotica/Erotic Experiences

In Three Minds (orpheusmind.blogspot.com)
My Ultimate Fantasy (gentlygently.blogspot.com)
The Slow Fuck (secretsofadirtygirl.blogspot.com)
Teen Lesbians Brittney and Avril on Sapphic Erotica (simply-sapphicerotica.com)
The Vixxen Chronicles - Walking Funny, Pt. 3 (unfetteredcravings.blogspot.com)
Welcome To My Fantasy (herknees.org)
Coach T… Ch. 5 (whatsexmaycome.blogspot.com)
Dear Pussy (secretbrain.blogspot.com)

Sex Work

I am now a sex worker (lumpesse.com)
Half-Nekkid: Topless and Thinking (sabrinainstockings.com)
Mothers and Prostitutes Don’t Mix (taratainton.com)

Experiences

Going Home (theholidaylife.blogspot.com)
Single Double (damnjezebel.com)
Women Aren’t the Only Complex Creatures (seanandmel.blogspot.com)
Caught Kissing in the Copier Room (anawtymouz.blogspot.com)

Announcements

Save the Date! NYC Perverts’ Saloon - Monday, April 3rd (viviane212.blogspot.com)
Twilight + Thebes Podcast Discusses Paddles + Devil Girl Sushi Table (tirepaddle.com)

NSFW Pics

Gracie on Abby Winters (iloveabbywinters.com)
My Sister’s Best Friend Review (internetisforporn.com)
I Feel Myself - The Art of Orgasm (sensualarousalblog.com)
Oops, I forgot. The word of the day is “moisture” (realadultsex.com)
Sincerely LaRue (eroticandy.blogspot.com)
S Spot Hentai Links (shayssexcolumn.blogspot.com)

Thoughts on Sex: Sex Commentary, Sex Advice, Blogging

Faking (v-boat.blogspot.com)
Fingering (sexyukgirl.blogspot.com)
Long Ass POST! (alphadominablog.com)
Twats and Knives: Together at Last (cuntinglinguist.blogspot.com)
Variety Act (seska4lovers.com)
Advice - Tasting Yourself (seskuality.com)
Anatomy Lessons Part 1 (swelteringcelt.com)
Come (sexeteria.blogspot.com)

Sex News / Grab Bag

For the Youthful-Looking Cooter You Deserve (tgp.com)
Mardi Gras Spanking (auntyagony.net)
Profaning the sacred (sexblo.gs)
They’ve Went and Bottled the Pussy! (suburbansexpot.blogs.com)
Tom Cruise’s Cock (sugarpit.com)
Charges Dropped in Teacher Sex Scandal (spiritsex.blogspot.com)
Dress Up Britney Spears (sugarjoy.com)

Funny

Killing An Erection (radicalvixen.com)
after a few shots… (janeluvsdick.com)

Join the Sugasm

HNT #4 - Assume the position

2006-03-22T17:01:00.000-05:00

Ah, Half-Nekkid Thursday again! I must say, I really look forward to Wednesday evenings -- come home, fire up the machine and decide which picture to post from my little stash.

This time, it's me ripping off the cover of the Secretary DVD. I mentioned yesterday that it's my favourite movie; it really cemented my interest in BDSM. I have wished, in the past, for a man like Mr. Grey -- firm, harsh, clearly dominant. Someone to submit to without a thought -- someone with such charisma and force of character that to not submit is unthinkable. I still wish for that sometimes, but I've realized that this movie is a fantasy. Perhaps men like him exist, but they are few, and my chances of meeting one are slim to none.

The inimitable Mistress Matisse recently posted an email from a woman searching for a dominant man, and I really recognized myself in that woman's words. I, too, have had no trouble finding vanilla men, but truly dominant ones are more difficult. I've had a few who were willing to go there, but they were always too unsure, too inhibited, too unoriginal. I always ended up topping from the bottom, and that's no fun. I'm shy in person, and I need someone to force me to go places that I might not go on my own. Like the woman in the email, I'm looking for a man worth submitting to.

I've done some thinking recently, and I've come to the conclusion that in M, I may have found that man. This realization dawned on me slowly. At first, when he bit me or fucked me hard, I made all the appropriate noises but thought to myself, yeah, he can inflict pain, but can he dominate? I thought not -- it wasn't nearly what I thought it could be, in my fantasies. It just hurt.

But slowly, slowly, I began to give myself to him. He would bite my nipples hard, and instead of dwelling on the pain or the irrational fear that he would rip them off, I would feel the pain and then release it, thinking, what does it matter if it hurts? My nipples are his, he can do what he wants with them. And in response, my cunt would open like a flower and my heart would inch ever-so-slightly closer to his. I realized that just as he must learn to dominate, I must learn to be submissive. It's not enough to just lie there and take it -- I have to give of myself before my fantasies can be fulfilled. There are still some things, intense things, he does where I lose my concentration and just grit my teeth at the pain, but I'm learning, and that's part of the fun.

Coming clean

2006-03-21T23:50:00.000-05:00

I am debating -- have been for a while -- whether to give M the address of this blog. He knows I write one and he knows it's anonymous, but I haven't told him what I write about.

On one hand, I really don't want to tell him. I love the total freedom, the ability to truly write whatever I want without fear of reprisal. I don't want to censor myself at all here, because it's become a form of therapy (or would be if I posted more often.) If I write about something, I can jettison it from my mind -- if it's a bad thought it no longer bothers me, and if it's a good (but distracting) thought I can get it out of my head and actually get some school work done.

I intend to, and have, used the writing here to work through my sexuality, both the vanilla and the kinky. I want to understand the deep, freaky parts of myself, and I'm worried that if I know someone intimate to me in my real life is reading, I might be afraid to go there. I'm also a little worried about how he'd feel about the things I disclose about our sex life -- I do get a little graphic about my partners here. Also, my stories are true in essence but not always in detail (I sometimes melt several sessions into one) and I don't want someone nit-picking with "that's not how it happened."

Finally, there's the possiblity that he could out me, accidentally or on purpose. As a financially-challenged, ostenibly virginal Christian student still living with her parents, I can't afford to be disowned because of my salacious writing, so I guard my anonymity fiercely. You have to be extremely trustworthy and open-minded before you're allowed to link my real-life identity to my online one, and although I have no real reason to doubt him, I've only known him two months.

On the other hand, the tempation is strong to show him exactly what kind of a sexual creature I am. I am not a virginal Christian -- I'm a slut in the best sense of the word, hungry and eager for his cock. I write about sex -- I spread my mind and my legs on the 'net for the world to see, if they so desire. I'm an exhibitionist, a masochist, a submissive. I post naked (or half-nekkid) pictures of myself. I fantasize about being a model for hogtied.com. My favourite movie is Secretary. If he wants to know exactly what he's getting with me, here's the place for him to find out.

I'm not just the bookish girl in the glasses and sweatshirt or his vanilla girlfriend -- I'm something more, something other. I am not what I seem! I'm dying to tell him this, to lay it out on the table for him to see. But I'm shy. The words stick in my mouth and he has to draw them out of me, slowly and painfully. For all my sluttish tendencies, my online boldness, I am still not comfortable talking, audibly, about sex. Giving him this web address would make it easier to communicate -- in fact, it would be like giving him an all-access pass to the X-rated parts of my brain. That's tremendously appealing, but it's the easy way out. It's also scary as hell. I'm so used to editing myself for safe consumption; can I really show him the freaky parts and trust him to accept them?

This post is all over the place -- I tried to give it structure but I think it just ended up as a random smattering of angsty thoughts. I haven't decided what to do yet; I'll probably give it a few more months, unless it tumbles unbidden out of my mouth one day and all these considerations will be moot. But I realized something as I wrote this: whatever happens, I refuse to sublimate my desires any longer. I'll tell him -- somehow.

Ouch!

2006-03-21T16:29:00.000-05:00

Having sex is a lovely, fun thing. But sometimes, it causes health problems. Unlovely, unfun health problems.

I get UTIs -- a lot. I was really prone to them when I was a pre-teen, sometimes barely finishing a course of antibiotics before the next infection set it. I had blood tests, ultrasounds and even a cytoscopy to determine the cause before being told I would eventually grow out it. I did -- and promptly grew back into them when I became sexually active at 18.

I get them so often now that I don't even go to the doctor anymore. I just self-medicate with a ton of water and cranberry supplements and hope for the best. It usually works, but this latest infection hung on for weeks, seeming to clear up and then flaring up again.

Then, this Saturday morning, after a night of very enthusiastic sex, I woke up to a palpable ache in my lower back. Uh oh -- kidney infection. I had played the dangerous game of not seeking medical attention for my infection and now it had gone too far. I went to the walk-in clinic at school, expecting confirmation of my self-diagnosis. The lady doctor did the dipstick-in-the-urine test and gave me the not-unwelcome but puzzling news: not only did I not have a kidney infection, I didn't even have a bladder infection! My water and cranberry ritual must have worked, but what was causing this lower back pain? Turns out, I had a sex-induced condition of another kind...

I laid down on the table and she pushed her fingers into my side. "Kidney," she said, pushing. Nothing. "Obliques," and she pushed again. Ouch! That hurt! "Ah -- muscles." My enthusiastic sex must have completely messed up my back muscles; it has to be that, because I haven't partaken of any other athletic activities in, oh, eons.

So now I have to stretch before sex. How romantic: "Wait a few minutes, honey, I have to limber up first." It's not a seductive kind of stretching, either: knees to your chest, then to the opposite shoulder. It's more like an awkward can-can. So the moral of the story is: a) no internet self-diagnosis from now on, and b) stop doing sexual acrobatics that my body clearly can't handle. Again, ouch.

HNT #3

2006-03-16T00:14:00.000-05:00

Fresh from the shower, I noticed the really beautiful winter afternoon light coming through the california shutters, so I grabbed my camera and took a few shots.

I'm wearing nothing but a few rectangles of sunlight... (That counts as half-nekkid, right?)

(I only got the St. Paddy's Day memo right this second and sadly I have no shots containing green. But rest assured, I will be drinking plenty of green beer on Friday!)

Sugasm #25

2006-03-11T15:56:00.000-05:00

The best of the sex blogs by the bloggers who blog them, categorized.

Posts with NSFW pics are in italics.

Announcements/Blogging

The Partistes (seska4lovers.com…)
Shibaricon: World’s Premiere Annual Pansexual Exhibition 2006 (spiritsex.blogspot.com…)
Stat-Aholic (shaysotherspot.blogspot.com…)
SugarClick Launched (sugarbank.com…)

Experiences

The Dreaded Scottish Cockblock (jundercovers.blogspot.com…)
The Four of Us (herknees.org…)
Killing an Afternoon (secretsofadirtygirl.blogspot.com…)
Losing M (v-boat.blogspot.com…)
Resistance is Futile (avaadora.blogspot.com…)
Underground (domequeen.blogspot.com…)

Fantasies

Eagle (barbiebaby09.livejournal.com…)
Exhaling (emergingontheotherside.blogspot.com…)
Hot Sugar and Wet Silk (tangysweet.blogspot.com…)
On the Dock (Fiction) (bikersballsandteacherstits.blogspot.com…)
Saturday with Adele (theholidaylife.blogspot.com…)
Stormy Night (gentlygently.blogspot.com…)
Tandem Massages (alwaysarousedgirl.blogspot.com…)
25 Words or Less (realadultsex.com…)
Babysitter (drtycplinva.blogspot.com…)
Body Language (chaosnoir.blogspot.com…)

Can I Play with it Now? (4dirtylaundry.blogspot.com…)

Funny

Jane likes to teeter totter. (janeluvsdick.com…)
Santorum (radicalvixen.com…)
This is what Happens… (damnjezebel.com…)
We All Have AIDS (sugarpit.com…)
The Cock Interviews: Part Two (secretbrain.blogspot.com…)

Fetish & BDSM

A Long Hot Soak and Burning Candles (redvelvetropeburn.blogspot.com…)
Interesting Interactions (lifeashis.com…)
New Elena Spanking Pics (tirepaddle.com…)
On a Power Trip (whatsexmaycome.blogspot.com…)
The Perfect Fetish Photo (adelehaze.com…)
“The sweetest thing I ever saw, was you asleep and dreaming.” (eternalapprentice.blogsome.com…)
Choices - Part Three (masterenigma.blogspot.com…)

NSFW Pics

House of Babalon (eroticandy.blogspot.com…)
Looking Down (barelace.blogspot.com…)
Aazul… // The blue one… (camadecasal.blogspot.com…)
Anal Advocate (sexyukgirl.blogspot.com…)
Aurora Snow, Gauge and a Dildo. Pure Magic. (internetisforporn.com…)

Sex Advice / Sex Toys / Sexy Reviews

Oh Boys… May I Experiment on You? (sexeteria.blogspot.com…)
One Hefty Dose of Butch, Black, Silicone Bliss (suburbansexpot.blogs.com…)
Pretty Dumb Things (sugarclick.com…)
Sex Toys Must Have (creamonpants.com…)
Tips for Going Bare (shayssexcolumn.blogspot.com…)
The Blind Jockey (sin.typepad.com…)

Sex Commentary / Sexual Politics

Lara Drops to a C Cup (sugarjoy.com…)
Porn You Wish They’d Make (sabrinainstockings.com…)
Sex in the News - Blog-a-Thon by Blank Noise Project (seskuality.com…)
2257 and Sweet Pink Activist Cunt (fullfrontalpolitics.com…)

HNT #2 - Negative Effects

2006-03-08T22:31:00.000-05:00

Yep, that's me, showing off my stomach again. It's actually my least favourite body part, but I seem to have found good camera angles for it.

I'm continuing the theme of adding effects to my photos. It makes me feel slightly less nekkid.

Also, thigh-highs are a woman's best friend.

That is all.

Resistance is futile

2006-03-08T15:54:00.000-05:00

There sometimes comes a point, in a sexual relationship, when it ceases to be about fucking and sucking and impressing each other with bedroom skills, and starts being about each other. You stop worrying about whether you're pleasing him or if you're going to get off and just lose yourself in it.

It happened last weekend, for him and I. The room was filled with flickering candlelight, which makes skin look so lovely. He was on top of me, kissing me, his hard cock resting heavily on my stomach. He inched lower, dragging it down, down until it nudged my clit, smearing it with wetness. He rubbed the head around, teasing me, making me want it. I arched my back and pulled his hips towards mine. The tension in the air was thick with longing.

It snapped as he sank into me, with our half-strangled cries. Skin on skin, our first time without the distancing, deadening sensation of latex. So much more intimite, that implied trust. I didn't touch him, otherwise, nor him me; I simply watched in the mirror as he slowly, sweetly made love to me.

Afterwards, in that fuzzy, drowsy afterglow, I almost had to put my hands over my mouth to keep from telling him I loved him. It's only the sex, I know, but it feels real.

Meh

2006-03-03T09:51:00.000-05:00

Wow. Seventeen comments on that last post. Hurrah for HNT! My little ole blog hasn't seen that many comments since, well, never!

Unfortunately something came to my attention yesterday that pretty much erased my good mood. I might blog about it, I might not. But for now, basically, meh.

Gonna take a break. Not too long. Just long enough to get my good mood back.

HNT #1

2006-03-01T22:15:00.000-05:00

I've wanted to jump on the HNT bandwagon for a while now, but I had hidden my digital camera away months ago and promptly forgotten where I'd put it. After searching for some time, I gave up a few days ago and resigned myself to a pictureless weblog for the forseeable future.

Of course, as soon as you stop looking for something, it usually appears.

Et voila, my very first HNT. I like the artsy charcoal effect; it disguises the crappiness of my 2.0 megapixel camera.

Young Love

2006-02-23T13:22:00.000-05:00

This post by Zulieka made me nostalgic for those awkward teen years when everything is new and thrilling and guilt-inducing, but I had to smirk at this passage:

"It is the most joyously memorable experience of my sex life, the delight of that first oral tryst that took place, so humorously, and endearingly, in the pitch black of a cramped broom closet backstage of an auditorium after an orchestra rehearsal. When we recovered from the fright of the clatter of falling cleaning bottles and clacking broom handles, and my underwear was sidestepped beneath my skirt, his tongue made first contact. What a thrill! All my nerves were touched at once by the most delicate appendage of the human body, a shapely raw muscle unconstrained by bone or hide which could move every which way and besides, was self-lubricating. Intelligent design, my ass! If nature had a mind, penises would be tongues."

Amen to that!

...and the gods created love

2006-02-21T23:12:00.000-05:00

A feather. He dragged it across my body, making me giggle, then shiver and moan. The sensation was wide-ranging, vague, imprecise. I arched my back, yearning for a firmer touch. He obliged, that mind-reader: his warm mouth on my hard, chilly nipples. A solid, concrete place in a sea of light ticklishness.

My fingers. He kissed them, and my palm, and the back of my hand. He licked the webbing between them, a manoeuvre I wouldn't have thought I'd enjoy but found strangely arousing. And he placed one in his mouth, sucked, drew it out, and said: "Now you have an idea of what it's like to penetrate." Christ.

His cock. He impaled me with it from behind, strong and insistent. It was so deep inside me that I could feel it bruising my cervix, and I knew I'd be sore later but I didn't care. He slapped my ass: not hard enough, but it's a start. I grunted, he sighed and muttered "Oh, god." And came.

Seven or Eight Inches, at Least

2006-02-11T21:50:00.000-05:00

I was bitten by a rabbit yesterday. M, the king of original dates, took me to the park, where we fed the animals (in defiance of several stern warnings posted on the fence.) I survived the miniature horses and the deer without injury, but with the cute bunnies I let my guard down. The furry little fucker chomped down on my carrot-scented finger and drew quite a bit of blood.

Today, I feel a curious sort of ache all over my body. I suspect, however, that this is due less to potential rabies than to being repeatedly ploughed by M's lovely cock. Based strictly on a sample size of exactly one, there is, in fact, a correlation between hand/foot and cock size. This man has extraordinarily large hands and feet; he's extraordinary in other ways, as well.

He's a beautiful specimen, this one: tall, hairless and amazingly fat-free. And damned good at what he does. I almost expect him to vanish in a puff of smoke -- no one this perfect actually exists.

Slightly Unrelated

2006-02-07T22:45:00.000-05:00

I'm now going to post something that isn't about sex! I don't want to turn this blog into a rant about my daily life, because that's usually painfully boring, but I just need to get this off my chest.

I was recently at a family gathering. My sister, who is taking classes to become a hairdresser (or should I say stylist, ahem) and I were talking about marks. I said that I had about a 75% average, and I wish it was higher. My sister said, I'm getting 90's in my courses. Very superior. And without thinking, I replied, well, if I was taking hairdressing courses I would be getting 90s too!

Now that was, I realize, unforgivably rude, given the audience contained not only my sister but my aunt and her sister, who are both hairdressers. My cousin has just last evening informed me that they were severely put out by this statement. Yes, I put my foot in my mouth. I shouldn't have said this. But you know what? I'm not particularily sorry.

I am in university studying a very technical, difficult and emminently practical scientific subject. When I graduate I will have knowledge and skills that will enable society to continue to function. I am not exaggerating or bragging, that's just how it is. Without my field, life as we know it would not exist. And it's damn hard. I work really hard to maintain a 75% average.

And then, a student of hair styling, possibly the most useless career choice possible, acts superior to me because she gets higher marks. First of all, I've seen the tests she writes and the textbook she uses, and they're a joke. All you have to do is memorize names, and the 'science' they teach about the hair and scalp is just plain wrong. I admit, the actual cutting and styling of hair does take considerable skill, but is it essential or necessary? If all the hairdressers in the world up and died, would the world come to a grinding halt? Hell no. I'd grab some kitchen scissors and get on with my life. Perhaps people would have less perfect hair, but really, who has perfect hair anyways? Even when I'm fresh out of the salon I don't like my hair. I'm pretty sure most women would be happy if society didn't demand they spend $50 on a hair cut every six weeks and a half-hour every morning in a futile attempt to style it.

Tell me hairdressing is fun or creative and I'll buy it. Tell me it's difficult or intellectually stimulating and I'll tell you to shove it up your ass.

Dark Side

2006-02-01T00:19:00.000-05:00

A long time ago, I mentioned I had a dark side. (And in the sidebar, too!) That's a bit silly, in hindsight; everyone has a dark side. And mine, I suppose, in the grand (blogo-) scheme, is not particularily dark, after all. Still, I promised I would share it, so here I am.

I remember the first time I realized there was something strange about me. I was, perhaps, 15 or 16 years old, and reading a book called The Fionavar Tapestry by Guy Gavriel Kay. In it, a female character is kidnapped and raped by the villian. I remember reading that part over and over, and feeling a strange mix of excitement and discomfort. I knew I was turned on, but it disturbed me that something so cruel and sadistic could do so.

As much as I wanted to deny it, I recalled still more instances in books and movies where such a thing had attracted me. In The Princess Bride, Wesley is tortured. Jamie is tortured and raped in Outlander by Diana Gabaldon. Dracula and Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles had similar effects on me. To be honest, I felt like I must be a bit sick. What kind of person found pleasure from the depiction of such twisted events?

I tried my best to forget about it until first-year university, when I was 18, and I stumbled upon the blogs of BDSM devotees. Finally, I had confirmation that I wasn't alone and that my desires weren't sick and twisted.

Of course, that really hasn't helped my quest to find a person who is really and truly willing to explore this world with me. A couple people have humoured me with the occasional spanking but I know they're only doing it to please me. That's fine, but I'm looking for something more. I'm looking for a man who's a true sadist -- a man who does it not just to gratify me but to gratify himself; someone serious, someone wickedly creative, but someone I can also trust and care for.

I want to be tied up and spanked and fucked, yes, but I also want him to fuck with my mind. I want to be controlled and abused and violated in the most filthy, and yet the most loving, ways.

Any takers?

Feast

2006-01-29T23:58:00.000-05:00

My god, how refreshing: a man who actually knows what he's doing.

I feel like I've been starving and now a buffet's on offer. Like I've been served a T-bone steak after a year's worth of hamburger.

He is tall, lean and fair: a polar opposite, and I like it that way. His skin is like velvet, a counterpoint to the fire of his tongue on my clit and the searing, liberating pain of his teeth on my ear. He leaves me drained, and tingling, and high; there are marks on my thighs where he bit me.

I watched him in the mirror, thrilling at the sight of his body: so classically beautiful. My heart gave a quiet leap of joy and my body was no longer my own.

On the move

2006-01-20T14:30:00.000-05:00

I'm starting to feel restless again.

Actually, I've been restless for a long time. I guess I'm always restless. I'm never happy where I am, I'm always on the move, always looking for the next best thing. Never really finding it.

I've met someone new. Seems like I'm always doing that, too. I love those initial stages, hesitation, uncertainty and that thrilling foray into foreign territory. It's exhausting, too, though.

I wonder if I'll know when to stop.

Notwithstanding

2005-12-02T23:38:00.000-05:00

A few reckless words and suddenly you're vivid in my memory.

"I'm nostalgic..."

"Oh yeah? For what?"

"You."

So direct. More direct than you've ever been. I can't get these images out of my mind, now: the way you used to look. So thin, frail almost, but how old were you then? Fifteen, sixteen? You've grown up since then, I know that much.

I saw you, a while ago. A veneer of small talk covered, perhaps unsuccessfully, my curiosity, my frank evaluation. A definite failure to keep my mind on the conversation and my blood from rushing to my face. You teased me about that too. Evil man.

Those old memories and recent ones are combining. Dangerously. Tonight.

I shouldn't be doing this.

I can't help myself.

I'm wondering whether you're as good as you claimed to be. Whether I could satisfy you. If it would be the bright, brilliant, consuming fire I've long dreamed it would be, or would it flare and sputter and go out as I've always feared?

Do I even want to find out?

Awakening

2005-05-20T21:14:00.000-04:00

For too long, love seemed like an illusion
its golden promise obscured by reason and confusion.
Too often, its favours were thrust upon me.
An invasion.
An intrusion.

Then there was you -- a revelation.
Forbidden, yet familiar, you stood before me,
a hand outstretched.
Not to give, not to take, but to simply caress.

We kissed, a passageway to secrets still unspoken,
promises unbroken,
answers to questions not yet asked.
A glimpse of the faces behind our masks.

The taste of you burned in my mouth
like an ancient truth.
And then, as gently as a ghost, you were inside me.
Your essence rising in my chest.
Your heartbeat pulsing beneath my breast.

Desire burst from you like a string of flawless pearls.

Between my thighs, your hands, guiding me
to undiscovered lands,
treasures in the sand,
pleasures never known to man.

And as we lay together,
the first cool breath of morning on our skin
offering a silent benediction, we knew
that we were not alone,
that in this harsh and unforgiving world
we'd found a place to call our own.

Who says only opposites attract?

--From Zumanity: Another Side of Cirque du Soleil

MIA

2005-05-08T23:50:00.000-04:00

Hello lovelies (if I even have readers anymore),

Sorry, haven't found any time to post here in the past little while. I guess I've been too busy having sex to write about it. Alas, I'm now back to the rat race of going to school and living with my parents, so the sex will once again be taking a backseat. That means, however, that my frustration will hopefully result in writing. I have some fantastic stories and some rants to share, once I get my act together.

Among the things I've done in the past twoish months:

-- spent more money on fancy lingerie than regular clothes
-- tied up my boyfriend (with gorgeous red rope that I bought at Walmart, of all places)
-- had hot, steamy monkey sex in the backseat of my car. Many times. I've never seen my windows that fogged, and my car has seen a lot of action in its day.
-- was shaved bare by the bf
-- found the number-one laziest way to have sex (for the girl, at least.)
-- made love in a desert, in the open air. Don't worry, we stayed away from the cacti.

Forgiven

2005-02-27T08:55:00.000-05:00

You know how us catholic girls can be
We make up for so much time a little too late
I never forgot it, confusing as it was
No fun with no guilt feelings
The sinners, the saviors, the loverless priests
I’ll see you next sunday

We all had our reasons to be there
We all had a thing or two to learn
We all needed something to cling to
So we did

I sang alleluia in the choir
I confessed my darkest deeds to an envious man
My brothers they never went blind for what they did
But I may as well have
In the name of the father, the skeptic and the son
I had one more stupid question

What I learned I rejected but I believe again
I will suffer the consequence of this inquisition
If I jump in this fountain, will I be forgiven

We all had delusions in our head
We all had our minds made up for us
We had to belive in something
So we did

-Alanis Morissette

I like toys: Conclusion

2005-02-19T22:17:00.000-05:00

I wrote this out in longhand first and then typed it, because I discovered that I am a complete failure at one-handed typing.

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

I’m fresh from the shower. I wander into my bedroom nude, feeling relaxed but horny. I’d spent the day, as usual, thinking about my boyfriend. I’m constantly interrupted at my boring job by vivid visions of him: things we’ve done, and things I want to do with him when he gets back. I return nearly every night with soaked underwear and an intense desire to let off some of that pressure. Tonight, I’d put that urge aside until now, but after the sensual pleasure of my shower, I decided that it must finally be obeyed.

I lie down on my bed, vibrator close at hand. I start off by teasing my nipples with my fingers, and then pinching and pulling roughly. There is definitely a direct connection between my nipples and my pussy; I can feel it get wet almost immediately.

I grab my vibrator and turn it on. I place it directly on my clit, no messing around for me. The strength of the vibrations shocks me slightly, I guess I’m still not used to it. My clit responds, though, swelling and hardening. A little moan escapes my lips.

I glide the vibrator down and slip it inside me. I press the angled tip against my G-spot, feeling the vibrations through my entire cunt. Heat and tension gather. I back off, removing my toy and using it to spread my wetness all over.

I return it to my clit, pressing harder this time. My cunt feels empty, and I long for the delicious feeling of his big cock, filling and stretching me. When I can’t take it anymore, I put my vibrator back inside me and attack my clit with my fingers. I repeat this cycle again and again.

I can feel that I’m getting close. I stay on my clit, feeling almost unbearable tension. The plateau lasts for a while, and just when I feel like I can’t endure another second, I come. And come. And come.

Oh. My. God.

I get the feeling when I use the vibrator that I could just keep coming and coming forever. I come for a good thirty seconds or more, and I could probably keep going if I didn’t have to take the thing away from my clit due to sheer sensory overload.

I’m telling you, that thing is the best $40 I ever spent.

Geekslut

2005-02-14T21:38:00.000-05:00

It looks like Geekslut has decided to pack it in (or at least his blog in its current form.) I'll miss him a lot. He was always a very entertaining and enlightening read. Not to mention, fucking hot. The hottest men and the nicest bodies are always gay.

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

Sorry for the lack of posting. I have been very busy with the imminent return of my man (sometime at the end of February, I hope.) I had to find an apartment and other assorted things for him. I will return to a semi-regular posting schedule shortly, with many many juicy stories to tell from the all night sex marathons likely to ensue when he finally comes back.

(The masturbation story below is coming. I swear.)

I like toys: an update

2005-02-04T20:23:00.000-05:00

I like toys

I like toys part 2

A friend of mine (one of the only ones who knows me in real life and also knows about this blog) suggested that I liveblog my first experience with my vibrator. Now I must confess, I have already broken it in quite a bit. I just couldn't resist. Therefore, I can't really follow his suggestion to the letter, but I will compromise. I will blog about my next masturbation session with the new vibe while it occurs. Look for it in the next few days.

HUGE GRIN

2005-01-31T18:13:00.000-05:00

Allow me a moment of giddiness...

I've been LINKED! :D

Thank you, Virgin-Slut! I feel like I finally exist.

Declaration

2005-01-29T21:08:00.000-05:00

I'm a slut.

That's right. I'm a dirty, horny little assfucking cumslut who wants to be plugged in every hole. I wanna suck your cock and have you unload all over me. I'm a whore, a loose bitch, a cocksucking slut.

And I am not ashamed.

Sleeping around

2005-01-28T01:44:00.000-05:00

Pussy Talk is one of my favourite blogs. DTG writes about sex in a very fresh and artful way; her quality of work is something I aspire to and feel is sadly lacking in most smut writing.

Today's post was fantastic and reminded me of why I love sleeping with my man. It's always amazing when you are so in tune with each other that one always knows what the other needs.

Besides, there's nothing like a well-loved, hard, throbbing cock in your hand to dispel your blues.

Ignorance

2005-01-27T23:59:00.000-05:00

I must issue a disclaimer before I begin this rant. I love my boyfriend. He is wonderful, and a great fuck. He's becoming more and more open-minded and he's a lot less uptight about sex than he used to be. Most of this no longer applies to him in the least. I guess he just needed a good teacher. :)

Maybe I should do some explaining. At first, D was adamant about not wanting to lose his virginity until he got married. As you can probably tell from my recent posts, he's softened his position on that somewhat. Okay, a lot. But he's revealed at the same time his complete and utter ignorance of basic sexuality. I think it's because he went to a Catholic high school, and emerged typically repressed and misinformed.

Perhaps I should enumerate:

1) The day after we had sex for the first time, we were talking on MSN and he admitted he knew nothing about birth control. I had to explain the function and usage of condoms, the pill, and coitus interruptus (the method we had used the night before; risky, I know.)

Him: Isn't the pill bad?

Me: What? No. It's totally safe. What makes you think it's bad?

Him: I don't know. They told us it was bad.

Me: Of course they did. *rolls eyes*

2) I had to explain STDs. He didn't even know what the acronym meant, and when I told him, he asked if they occur spontaneously (as a sort of byproduct) or if one partner actually has to have one to spread it to the other. Christ. No wonder the guy was afraid to have sex.

3) He hates blowjobs. Now, I don't know if this quite belongs in this list of sexual ignorance, but I think it's a symptom of a larger problem. This topic deserves (and will get ) a post all of it's own, cause it just really disturbs me.

4) He has no clue where my clit is. Now this is not strictly true. He has an innate sense of what I like and where I like to be touched, but show him a female anatomy diagram (sans labels, of course) and ask him to point it out and he would be up shit creek without a paddle.

5) He was under the impression that during a woman's period is when she is most fertile. Huh? Where does this notion come from?

6) I know most guys have a horror of all things menstrual, but I'm reasonably sure most of them have an idea what all those pads and tampons are for. Him? Not a clue. I won't tell you what he thought they were for, because it is just too ridiculous for words.

This is nothing against him. This is against the society that can produce ignorance like this. For chrissakes, keep health class in school. Don't let uptight parents and cheap school boards limit or ban sex education. Obviously, even what we have in some schools is inadequate.

Has anyone else ever met someone similarily clueless in this department? Inquiring minds want to know.

I like toys, part 2

2005-01-22T16:13:00.000-05:00

Continued from I like toys.

There is a sex shop two doors down from my church. No kidding. I've driven past it a few times, and recently I decided to finally go in.

I had never been in one before then. I didn't really know what to expect, but this one looked friendly enough, and not freaky like some of the ones I see downtown sometimes. No weird mannequins in the window wearing bizarre outfits. Mannequins scare me.

As I approached the door I saw a punky looking teenaged boy run out of the shop, laughing and hamming it up with his friends. "Oh my god, that is so sick!" they snorted. Oh Jesus. I held my head up and, dressed like a good girl in my Sunday best, walked into the shop.

I don't know what I expected from the staff. A vampy woman with way too much makeup? A leering man? A porn star? Nope, nothing that exciting. A bored-looking 20-something girl in a hoodie was sitting behind the counter. She greeted me and told me to ask questions if I needed anything. She would have been much more at home working at the Gap.

I was the only person there. I guess Sunday isn't a prime sextoy-shopping day. I persued everything, shelves and shelves of lube, vidoes, and vibrators. I really didn't know what I wanted, exactly, but I knew I wanted a vibe that was small and discreet and didn't look anything like a penis in case I left it lying around somewhere.

I told myself I would only spend $40. Being a student, I really can't drop $100 on an iVibe, as much as those little rabbit ears tempt me. Finally, I saw the Natural Contours Jolie. Small, angled for g-spot, and looks nothing like a penis. And $39.99. Perfect.

On my way to the checkout, I saw something that caught my eye. A combo of bullet vibe and anal beads. Next time.

"Will you be needing any lube or toy cleaner today?" the clerk asked. It was so nonchalant, like "do you want fries with that?" Maybe I'm naive, but I thought working in a sex shop would be more exciting than that. I paid and left.

Next installment: trying it out.

Nervous energy

2005-01-17T21:31:00.000-05:00

I need to fuck.

I need something to quiet the thousands of voices babbling in my head. I need SOMETHING to expend all this nervous energy.

I hate all the questions. I hate thinking. Make me forget everything except your cock and your teeth.

Bite me. Fuck me.

Gorgeous ass

2005-01-15T21:55:00.000-05:00

By Quebec photographer Robert Laliberte. See more of his beautiful pictures here.

I like toys

2005-01-15T18:33:00.000-05:00

I am on a mission.

I am going to buy my first vibrator tomorrow. After church. Heh.

I'll let you know how it goes.

These dreams of you

2005-01-14T07:37:00.000-05:00

Last night I dreamed you slept with another woman.

She was older, beautiful and exotic, with a low silky voice. We showed up at her door together and she drew us in. She led you into the bedroom, and for some reason known only to the mysterious part of my psyche that invents my dreams, I was ok with it. I sat on her expensive living room sofa while she fucked you, and somehow I knew she was doing it well, doing it better than I ever could.

You emerged some time later, holding her hand. You gazed at her like a man entranced, and kissed her fingers goodbye with the same tenderness usually reserved for me. Jealousy rose like bile in my throat.

"Do you want me to paint you, darling?" she asked in a voice smooth as honey. His wordless answer was obvious. She looked at me. "Do you want to help me paint him?"

"Yes, I want to paint him, but I don't want anyone else touching him!" I said, with more sadness than venom, and a pathetic sort of desperation. I knew I couldn't stop her.

Suddenly you were naked in the living room and she had smoothed wide stripes of glistening oil paint down the deep groove of your back and over the curve of your sweet ass.

I found myself in some sort of gift shop, with people milling around; one of my ex-boyfriends was among them. There was a rectangular terracotta urn on the cash register counter. I was looking at it when my mother came over and said to me: "You are trash. You will never have anything other than trash." As fury washed over me, I noticed these same words inscribed on the urn. I picked it up, and although it was so heavy I could barely lift it, I hurled to the ground again and again until it finally broke into two pieces.

My ex-boyfriend was furious with me. He locked himself in the bathroom, which I suddenly realized was the master bedroom ensuite at my parent's house. I knocked and knocked, and he wouldn't answer. Finally he unlocked the door and I opened it. I sobbed and sobbed, and he took me in his arms and somehow we ended up lying together on my parents' bed. I told him I only broke the urn because I was mad at my mom. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" I repeated, and although he told me he loved me, I knew from the tension in his body that I was not forgiven.

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

Weirdest. Dream. Ever.

Although I have a good idea what my subconcious is trying to say.

In praise of the uncut cock

2005-01-09T01:16:00.000-05:00

Something I find sort of odd is the proliferation of circumsized men in North America. It is strictly a Jewish and Muslim custom as far as I know; I don't believe it's a part of Christian dogma or that of any other religion. So why are something like 60% of male babies still being circumsized?

I've read some of the reasons, and although I find it hard to argue with what look like valid scientific studies (concluding that circumcision reduces the risk of penile cancer/UTIs/HIV) I still find it barbaric. It's like a woman having her labia cut off. Barbaric and unnecessary. Apparently penile cancer and UTIs can be prevented by simple washing, and to avoid HIV, wear a condom. Duh.

Personally, I love an uncut cock. I don't understand all those women who think it's ugly. It's nature, girls. They're born with it. And let's face it, the male reproductive organs are pretty ridiculous with or without that extra piece of skin; don't even get me started on female bits. But they are both perfectly designed by forces much wiser than us. I hate that we always feel the need to interfere.

Two of my lovers have been uncut, and I like them because a) they're natural, and I'm a big fan of the natural, and b) I think they're cute. They are like shy little turtles: they hide at first, but play with them a little and they'll come out and say hello. When they do, I can never resist giving them a friendly lick. Or ten.

An old flame

2005-01-08T23:20:00.000-05:00

Fuck me up the ass. I don’t want to hear this shit.

I can tell him everything about me, but I don’t want to hear about him.

Never mind that I love my man. This guy has his claws in me. He always has, always will. Wound me, bend me, break me, with a little twist of his hand.

No contact is the best contact. Keep him at arms length, farther even. If he does not touch me he cannot harm me. Or so the theory goes.

Last Night

2005-01-08T08:48:00.000-05:00

I can hardly believe that you are leaving tomorrow. I don't know when I will see you next.

We spent an hour or so making love this afternoon and although it was wonderful, that is not what I am interested in tonight. Tonight, just hold me. Let me lie small and quiet, nestled under your shoulder. Let me stroke your chest and stomach, you legs and feet, not because I want to fuck you (although I do) but simply because I love them. I want to remember them: memories for the long, lonely months ahead.

Just put your arms around me, my love, and sleep, and I will watch over you.

Second Last Night

2005-01-07T21:05:00.000-05:00

I've never gotten a hotel like that before, baby. Paid for only so we'd have a place to fuck, and to sleep together. For me to spend a few hours in your arms at least, undisturbed, before you leave.

King sized bed - so unnecessary, since we'd be sleeping glued together anyway. Passionate kisses - so hard, so urgent. But I want this slow. This may be our last chance to make love until you come back.

Unbuttoning your shirt reveals your hairy chest and dark nipples. I run my hands joyfully through the soft mat of hair, loving you so much, revelling in the sheer beauty of your naked torso. I remember seeing your chest in the sauna when we barely knew each other, and wondering what it would feel like to touch it, to lick those nipples. Now I know; I've known for a while, but I delight in each renewal of the experience.

I can feel steel against my leg as I press myself against you, and it makes me want you right then and there. Patience. Savour this.

I suggest a shower. I know how badly you want me, but I want things too.

Both of us naked now, you hold me, and we look at ourselves in the mirror. I love the contrast of your strong forearms against my pale, vulnerable skin, your hands cupping my breasts. I love your sweet face, your smooth skin and unshaven jaw. You look so strong, so beautiful, so capable. I place my life in your hands; I am yours.

We step into the shower and you soap me up, and I swear to God, your hands on my skin are like liquid fire, a lava flow. We switch and soon my hands are slipsliding over your body, your beautiful hard body. You are mine; I claim you even as I give myself to you. I kneel before you to wash your legs and feet, and I am so overcome with tenderness and longing that I feel like weeping, and my cunt streams juices like water. I feel raw, all exposed emotion and desire. A naked blade. I am eye level with your cock, your gorgeous uncut cock, and I run my hands up and down your massive, rock hard thighs. I kiss your shaft, just once, a tiny soft kiss.

We get out and wrap towels around ourselves, Lord knows why, considering we are just going to take them off again.

You grab me and push me onto the bed. I can't wait any longer. I pull off my towel and yours; it slips off your hips and there you are, all lean and hard, my heart's desire, with an erection that makes me want to sink to my knees in gratitude. Your thick cock, foreskin pulled back, the head huge and red, begs to be touched.

In one smooth motion you're on top of me, and I moan as you enter me; you thrust yourself home. Home.

You bury yourself in me, sword and scabbard, right to the hilt. It is wild and unstoppable, that force that takes over when you do this. You fuck me so well, my darling, so sweetly and so hard. I can hardly muffle the cries that escape me but I manage it so that I can hear your ragged breathing, the involuntary cries that escape your throat as you lose yourself in me.

You pull out and cum with amazing force on my belly and chest, with my hand I milk your cock until I am awash in your essence. You relax next to me and I smile, content.

I need another shower.

Riding in cars with boys

2005-01-07T20:09:00.000-05:00

Driving in this snowstorm, he sits in the passenger's seat. My parents are in the car ahead, and my hand is on his crotch. There's a hard steel rod slowly expanding under my fingers, a sharp contrast to the freezing cold wind outside our cozy little space.

There are mewling little gasps coming from his side of the car, like a kitten. I look over to see his face in profile, eyes closed, mouth open, suffused in ecstacy.

"Pay attention to the road," he says.

He doesn't mean it.

Christ I miss him

2005-01-07T20:01:00.000-05:00

The webcam is a blessing and a curse. I love seeing him. But it makes me want him so badly I can hardly stand it.

The sight of his broad back or his delicate ear is torture. A reminder of what I can't have. Of just how far away he is.

Beyond a certain point
distance is a fact and not a measure.
It hardly matters whether I am
five or seven thousand miles away
or whether it is five o'clock
or six where you are.

-Guy Gavriel Kay

Keep him safe

2005-01-06T23:36:00.000-05:00

So my man left yesterday at noon, and now he in a very sketchy area of the world, where muggings and kidnappings are common and he is afraid to leave his hotel. He's a pretty strong guy, but I am seriously afraid for him. I don't know if anyone is even reading this, or if you care, but if you believe in such things, please please say a little prayer for him, and for all the people working in foreign countries, away from their loved ones. And while you're at it, pray for the tsunami victims and all those poor innocent people in all those war torn countries.

Please God, bring him home safely and soon.

************************
I love this song, and it kind of fits my mood right now. Sorry about the melancholy, I have a few new things to post when I feel better, but right now I just feel like crying.

Bring Him Home

God on high, hear my prayer
In my need, you have always been there

He is young, he's afraid
Let him rest, heaven blessed.
Bring him home
Bring him home
Bring him home.

He's like the son I might have known
If God had granted me a son.
The summers die one by one
How soon they fly on and on
And I am old and will be gone.

Bring him peace, bring him joy
He is young, he is only a boy
You can take, you can give
Let him be, let him live
If I die, let me die, let him live

Bring him home
Bring him home
Bring him home.

--Les Miserables

My love...what a great fuck

2005-01-04T07:30:00.000-05:00

I left him very early this morning. Our new city is cold and frightening without him. I am dreading his departure, which could come now at any time. He will board the plane without warning. Every parting could be our last.

It has only been 2 hours since I saw him last but already I ache to feel his arms around me, his cock inside me.

Willy

2004-12-21T11:19:00.000-05:00

Willy is my child, he is my father
I would be his lady all my life
He says he'd love to live with me
But for an ancient injury
That has not healed
He said "I feel once again
Like I gave my heart too soon"
He stood looking thru the lace
At the face on the conquered moon
And counting all the cars up the hill
And the stars on my window sill
There are still more reasons why I love him

Willy is my joy, he is my sorrow
Now he wants to run away and hide
He says our love cannot be real
He cannot hear the chapel's pealing silver bells
But you know it's hard to tell
When you're in the spell if it's wrong or if it's real
But you're bound to lose
If you let the blues get you scared to feel
And I feel like I'm just being born
Like a shiny light breaking in a storm
There are so many reasons why I love him

-Joni Mitchell

I am so insanely happy right now

2004-12-09T16:06:00.000-05:00

I have been dreading Christmas. Well, I always dread Christmas (damn it is such a depressing time of year,) but this year I have been dreading it even more than usual. This is because my boyfriend was supposed to leave for a different continent right after it.

I will be in a different city from January to April for school reasons, and my boyfriend will be gone during that same time period, also for school reasons. Now the rub is, if it wasn't for some silly circumstances, he would be in the same city as me.

However, I just got some fabulous news. His work visa will not be coming through until after New Year's, so we will have quite a few precious, precious days together in my new city. Ahh to sleep in his arms night after night...and hopefully engage in some other, fun activities...

PDAs

2004-12-09T09:27:00.000-05:00

I love PDAs. Public displays of affection. In this case I don't mean my public displays of affection with my boyfriend, though. I mean, I love watching other couples engage in it. Why? Because I like it when other people are happy. I like seeing that other people are finding joy in each other, that there is nothing they would rather be doing than touching each other. There is not nearly enough joy in the world, so seeing any small addition to it is good.

I don't understand those prudes who get upset by it. On numerous occasions my boyfriend and I have had dirty looks and even nasty comments thrown our way for kissing in public. I always feel sorry for the people doing this, since they clearly are in need of a little affection themselves.

Of course, anyone doing anything too intimate in, say, the grocery store, is going a bit far. For me, though, there is absolutely nothing hotter than watching a couple feel each other up on a crowded dance floor.

I want and I want and I will always be hungry

2004-12-08T17:06:00.000-05:00

This song is amazing. Such great lyrics: red hot and always surprising. A big thank you goes out to Eden and her blog Just One Bite for introducing me to it. Go listen to it on her Soundblox for the full effect. I can't recommend the album just yet because I haven't heard it, but I will soon.

I Want

I want to know how it'll end. I want to be sure of what it'll cost. I want to strangle the stars for all they promised me. I want you to call me on your drug phone. I want to keep you alive so there is always the possibility of murder later. I want to be there when you learn the cost of desire. I want you to understand that my malevolence is just a way to win. I want the name of the ruiner. I want matches in case I have to suddenly burn. I want you to know that being kind is overrated. I want to write my secret across your sky. I want to watch you lose control. I want to watch you lose. I want to know exactly what it's going to take. I want to see you insert yourself into glory. I want your touches to scar me so I'll know where you've been. I want you to watch when I go down in flames. I want a list of atrocities done in your name. I want to reach my hand into the dark and feel what reaches back. I want to remember when my nightmares were clearer. I want to be there when your hot black rage rips wide open. I want to taste my own kind. I want to be wrapped in cold wet sheets to see if it's different on this side. I want you to come on strong. I want to leave you out in the cold. I want the exact same thing but different. I want some soft drugs.. some soft, soft drugs. I want to throw you. I want you to know I know. I want to know if you read me. I want to swing with my eyes shut and see what I hit. I want to know just how much you hate me so I can predict what you'll do. I want you to know the wounds are self-inflicted. I want a controlling interest. I want to be somewhere beautiful when I die. I want to be your secret hater. I want to stop destroying you but I can't. And I want and I want and I want and I will always be hungry. And I want and I want and I want.

-Recoil feat. Nicole Blackman

Red Right Ankle

2004-12-08T16:49:00.000-05:00

This is the story of your red right ankle
And how it came to meet your leg
And how the muscle, bone, and sinews tangled
And how the skin was softly shed
And how it whispered "Oh, adhere to me
For we are bound by symmetry
And whatever differences our lives have been
We together make a limb."
This is the story of your red right ankle.

This is the story of your gypsy uncle
You never knew 'cause he was dead
And how his face was carved and rift with wrinkles
In the picture in your head.
And remember how you found the key
To his hideout in the Pyrenees
But you wanted to keep his secret safe
So you threw the key away.
This is the story of your gypsy uncle.

This is the story of the boys who loved you
Who love you now and loved you then
Some were sweet and some were cold and snuffed you
Some just laid around in bed.
Some had crumbled you straight to your knees
Did it cruel, did it tenderly
Some had crawled their way into your heart
To rend its ventricles apart.
This is the story of the boys who loved you
This is the story of your red right ankle.

- The Decembrists

Jude Law's got nothing on my man

2004-12-08T11:18:00.000-05:00

Top ten reasons why my boyfriend is the sexiest man alive (at least to me):

10) He always opens doors for me. He gets mad when I try to do it for myself.

9) He's studying to be an engineer. There's something so sexy about engineers; they're so precise and logical and capable.

8) He has a slight hint of an accent because he was not born in Canada. It just turns his 'th's into 'd's and makes him pronounce certain words funny but it's enough to drive me crazy. In a good way.

7) He has the softest body hair of anyone I've been with, and there's lots of it. I love my men hairy.

6) He is unbelievably beautiful when he smiles.

5) He grabs me in public. I love that.

4) He knows when to be civilized and when to misbehave.

3) He has a deep sexy voice that I love to listen to, especially when he is speaking his native language. (Although, when I tickle him he giggles most delightfully.)

2) He knows exactly how to touch my body, even though by his own admission he is inexperienced. He's a natural. Mmmm.

And the number one reason why my boyfriend is the sexiest man alive:

1) He can undress me with his teeth. Shit.

Platinum card-carrying member of the MHC

2004-12-07T14:23:00.000-05:00

I mention in the sidebar that I have a 'dark side' so I was planning on posting about it, but I don't know if I'm quite ready for that yet. So to warm up a bit, I thought I'd write about the weirdest place I have had sex: an airplane.

While I'd say that the Mile High Club's membership is still somewhat limited, these days it's pretty ho hum to say you've had sex in an airplane. In fact, you can read all about it here at this excellent and entertaining website. It seems everyone's jumping on the bandwagon. But my experience was a little more unique and dangerous than that.

I've had sex in the cockpit of an airplane. A small airplane. A Cessna 172 to be exact. With the pilot. While he was flying the plane.

My boyfriend at the time had been dreaming about doing this since he got his private pilot's license. To be quite honest, it was a rather unsexy experience, just because there were so many logistics to consider. For one, the cockpit is small. And the seats slope backwards, so to move at all is sort of difficult. But we managed. We managed quite well. He came in about two minutes, he was so excited. At the time I was a little disappointed that he didn't last very long, but now that I think about it, that was probably a good thing since I'm sure he wasn't paying too much attention to flying the plane. It was quite surreal, to be fucking him while looking out the window at the tiny houses below. Once we were done, we were totally lost and had to radio the tower for directions. If only they knew what we had been up to.

For something really surreal, check this out.

Mmm, yummy

2004-12-07T13:55:00.000-05:00

Speaking of One Night At McCool's, Liv Tyler is definitely on my list of women I'd do if I had a chance.

Tie me up

2004-12-07T13:38:00.000-05:00

On the review notes for my pseudo-chemistry class, one of the points the prof said we should study was "bondage, no, bonding in electrons." Now to me, with my dirty mind, that is the obvious joke. But for my middle-aged professor to be into bondage strikes me as funny. The mental image reminds me of Paul Reiser in One Night At McCool's:

Too bad I couldn't find a picture of the rest of his outfit, but if you want a laugh, go rent that movie.

Forgive me Father, but I'm falling in love, and that's all I have for confession today

2004-12-05T03:45:00.000-05:00

It's 3:45am and I have been working on a montrous project all night. I am dead tired and would like nothing more than to crawl into bed with my man and lose myself in his warmth and the oblivion of sleep. But alas, he is across the city and my bed is cold and lonely. But no less welcoming for all that. God it will feel good to get into that bed when I am done this evil project.

Reports are the devil.

I still can't get enough of you

2004-12-04T01:09:00.000-05:00

(Continued from I just can't get enough of you, baby)

The night wore on, and we stayed awake, shifting positions, enjoying the ebb and flow of pleasure from one to the other. Sometimes I lay still on top of him, feeling warm and safe and knitted to him by gravity and the strength of his arms around me. Sometimes I hovered above him, my hands skimming lightly over his skin, darting in quickly to kiss the curve of his ribs or a dark nipple. And sometimes he nestled between my legs, kissing my mouth, drawing wet ticklish circles on my breasts with his tongue. There was nothing in the world but him; my senses were full of him, his touch, his scent, his breath in my ear.

But through it all he would never quite let me touch him in the one place that I yearned for. His cock seemed rock-hard and I marvelled that he could restrain himself through all this. My own cunt throbbed, a hole begging to be filled. But even more than that, I wanted him in my mouth. I desperately wanted to give him pleasure.

At some point I decided to end this coy bullshit. I hooked my thumbs in the waistband of his shorts and eased them off; his cock sprang out, hard and beautiful. I heard him make a sound deep in his throat as I lightly touched the silky shaft. It felt wonderful. Like heaven. I began to stroke him in earnest, and after a few minutes he groaned:

"Stop, or I will make a mess of your sheets."

How could I explain to him, this good, innocent man, that this is what I want? That I want his hot cum to paint my body with white streaks, to fill my mouth and all of my other orifices. I want to drink it in, his essence, the distillation of everything he is.

Instead I did as I was told. I stopped. And I leaned over his prone form to take his hard cock in my mouth. It was such a short time, such a precious short time that he spent there, before I felt him contract rhythmically, strongly, depositing into my mouth spurt after spurt of the sweetest cum I have ever tasted.

I planted a kiss on the soft head of his penis and crawled back up the bed to nestle small and happy in the curve of his broad shoulder. And was struck with the sudden, demanding urge to do it all over again.

She was into S&M and bible studies, not everyone's cup of tea

2004-12-03T01:20:00.000-05:00

My part time job, at a large retail chain, is mostly awful. It's a source of income, and that's about it. But there's one thing that gets me through my shift.

We just got a new store manager a few months ago, and he's a far cry from the unapproachable assholes that we used to have. He's young, funny, charismatic, and unbelievably hot. He's married with small children, but that doesn't stop me from fantasizing about kneeling naked on the concrete stockroom floor, sucking his cock with my hands bound behind my back. I bet he's got a nice, fat dick. And an ass to die for. I wonder if his pubic hair is as flaming red as the hair on his head...

Such thoughts are NOT conducive to efficient customer service.

Missing your cock

2004-12-02T08:50:00.000-05:00

My fuckbuddy E once sent me some very grainy pictures of his erect cock during a particularily steamy session of cybersex. They got me so wet I was afraid I was going to ruin the fabric of my office chair.

I don't know why they had such an effect on me, but I suspect it has something to do with the fact that his was the first real live cock I ever saw. The first phallus I ever worshipped at.

I got rid of those pictures a while ago in a fit of hard drive feng shui. Now that my life seems once again to be semi-devoid of real cock, I am really, really wishing I hadn't.

Annotation

2004-12-01T22:07:00.000-05:00

Should there be love
the soul may ride
the river of the blood
through rapids
over falls
past breaking rocks
into a harbour
safe from time,
or so the story goes.

Not yet prepared
to denounce the text,
I can say, nonetheless,
that the falls
rapids rocks
aren't just
scenic attractions.
Shake you pretty good,
they do.

--Guy Gavriel Kay

I just can't get enough of you, baby

2004-11-30T01:10:00.000-05:00

I can't get enough of blogging tonight, so I think I will share a recent experience with my new flame. I had the house to myself for a night a while ago, so I invited D come over. We killed some time together, did some homework and basically enjoyed each other's company.

Around midnight we decided it was time to go to bed. I put on my standard bed outfit: a pair of very thin lounge pants and a tiny black tank top that shows off my small, shapely breasts. He gazed at me approvingly while he undressed.

I love watching a man undress. Even when he does it matter-of-factly, it still turns me on. There's something about the way all those bits of skin are slowly exposed, one by one, that makes me want to lick and suck at every one of them.

D pulled his shirt over his head and gave me a little smile when he saw me staring at him. I've seen him shirtless many times but it still gives me a thrill. He has a beautiful upper body, exactly the kind I like: naturally muscular and broad-shouldered, with a wonderfully hairy chest and stomach. When he started to undo his belt I really took notice though. It was a line we had not crossed yet. He had seen me naked but he had never taken his pants off. I liked to think that he would not trust himself in that state of undress, with me.

I turned around to unmake my bed and he came up behind me, his chest against my back and the hard heat of his erection nudging the crack of my ass through my thin pants. His hands slid over the smooth fabric of my top, cupping my tits, rubbing the nipples with his thumbs and making them stand up, hard and insistent. An instant flush of heat flooded me. I felt his lips soft on my skin, and then his tongue on my neck, sending a shivery, trembling sensation down my spine.

We climbed into bed together with him in just his underwear, our warm skin meeting under cool sheets. He pulled me to him and we lay on our sides, my cheek pressed firmly to his chest, his cock rigid between us. It was driving me insane, that hard shaft. I ached to touch it, lick it, bury it inside me. But I didn't want to frighten him. (Don't startle the wildlife. Don't make any sudden movements.)

He had my clothes off in a matter of minutes and was touching me gently, his fingers light as feathers on my skin, firing my desire and making my pussy drip. His mouth descended and I watched him suck my nipple, a ridiculously beautiful sight in the glow of the outside streetlights. And then his hand travelled down, down...

We shifted and I straddled him, sure that my cunt must be dripping onto his belly; his finger was still grazing my clit, making me hazy with lust. I kissed his mouth, nibbled his earlobe, teased and licked and stroked all the places that I know drive him crazy. My nipples were painfully hard as they met the soft hair of his chest. I kissed him hard, ungently, a sort of frenzy overtaking me. I needed him.

A New Resolution

2004-11-29T23:33:00.000-05:00

I stopped posting for a while, because the inspiration to write just hasn't been there. Plus, it's a little depressing that no one even reads this thing; at least, I'm reasonably sure no one reads it. I guess I need to start blogrolling, but I am so dense that I can't figure out how to make it work. Wow I am pathetic.

I'm in a different place than I was a few months ago when I wrote the first stuff on this blog. I've broken up with the guy I thought was The One. Turns out, I don't know what the hell he was, but he was definitely not The One. So I am on to greener pastures. Specifically, the guy in the last post. D.

He is wonderful. More than wonderful. It has been a long time since I've been so absolutely moony over a guy. He has to be the best lover I have had in a long time. But I use the term 'lover' very loosely. He's a virgin and is not planning on changing that until he gets married.

Being the horny slut that I am, that frustrates the hell out of me. I am a firm believer that you should never deny yourself sex (except maybe to heighten the pleasure at a later date, if that sort of thing is your bag.) But two people who desperately want to fuck shouldn't refrain because of some archaic rules involving a priest and a piece of paper. I'm religious, and some people will want to stone me for this, but I'm pretty sure God wants us to have sex. Good sex. Lots of it. Provided, of course, that it is between people who respect and trust one another. After all, sex is love, and God is all about love. And God invented sex, for chrissakes. I don't understand how anyone can call it dirty or wrong, in any of its varied and glorious forms. But I digress.

However, even though his refusal to have premarital sex frustrates me, I sort of admire him for it. Whether or not I agree with his views, his self-control is enviable. I wish I had the kind of will-power that he has. Maybe I will blog an example of this later on. Because he really is amazing. And sexy. Argh.

I, on the other hand, have no self-control. I go wherever the wind takes me pretty much. If I feel like doing something, I do it, for the most part. I'm hoping that somehow he will rub off on me, because this lack of control can get me into some pretty sticky situations.

Anyways, my new resolution is to blog more. Because I have a million thoughts floating around in my head that are bursting to get out.

It's been a while but here's a little something new

2004-11-29T23:28:00.000-05:00

D, my beautiful, perfect man. I am going to contradict myself, because you are not perfect. Nor are you particularly beautiful, not to the world in general. But to me you are both of these things. You are so kind, and so charmingly unsure of yourself. But sometimes you are confident, blindingly so, and I know that nothing can happen to me while I am in your care. It is too early for me to love you, and yet I cannot stop thinking the words. I love your wide, smooth brow and gold-flecked eyes. I love your crooked little smile, and the way you bite your lip when you are thinking about something. I love your body, so well made and utterly masculine, the dark hair on your chest and stomach soft, like the hair on your head. It makes me wonder about your other hair, as well. Sometimes, I must admit, I want to tear all your clothes off and make love to you; I want to ride you hard until you can’t remember your own name. But I will respect your wishes. I will restrain myself under your caresses, which are gentle and tentative but nonetheless sear my skin like fire. I will remain in control when your hand wanders lower, and your finger coyly grazes my clit as I grow more and more moist. But when I feel you getting hard it is almost more than I can stand. It is proof positive that you want me, and I want to refer to it triumphantly: “you cannot argue with biology.” But one can, and you do, and it is part of what I love about you. That does not erase the fact that I want to make you cum with my mouth and hands, I want you to cry my name and feel things you have never felt before. I want to have you in my power, and likewise be in yours. Maybe it will never happen. But that is what I want.

Decisions, Decisions

2004-10-07T15:49:00.000-04:00

There is nothing more embarrassing than unwanted cyber sex.

I was trying to finish a physics assignment with MSN running in the background when E (the guy in the last post) messaged me. He cut straight to the chase: he was coming into town in a few weeks and he wanted to get together.

Normally, this is the sort of encounter that I would jump at. The weekend he was coming down, I had agreed to house sit for some neighbours, so we would have a huge, beautiful house all to ourselves. On the other hand, I was plus one boyfriend since our last meeting.

But this man, this man is like a drug. No matter how many times I try to break the habit, I keep coming back for more. I agreed to meet him on the designated weekend, but I was very conflicted. All I wanted was for him to leave me alone while I decided what to do.

I tried telling him that I really needed to finish my assignment (which was true.) But he didn’t take the hint. Instead, he launched into a very graphic description of just what he intended to do to me once we were together. Normally I’d go along with it in the spirit of things, but today I was NOT in the mood. I didn’t want to tell him to take a hike, though, because I do care about him and he was clearly enjoying himself.

I tried to interject some witty comments in an attempt to cool him off, and finally he wrote:

“You don’t seem very turned on by this.”

My fingers were itching to type, “Yeah, well, your ‘heaving passions’ don’t go too well with my tangential acceleration,” but that would have been cruel. So I just said “I’m not very good at this.” Which was lame, but it shut him up.

I still had the problem of what to do about his impending visit. My body yearns for his, it always has, but every time we get together, I spend weeks afterwards sad and depressed. Like Samantha of Sex and the City says, “Sex with an ex can be depressing. If it’s good, you don’t have it anymore, and if it’s bad, well, you just had sex with an ex!” For reasons I won’t go into, an actual relationship with him is out of the question, and sex is just a reminder of what I no longer have.

And then, of course, there’s the issue of my current boyfriend. I love him. We’ve had a very complicated relationship, breaking up and only recently getting back together, but I feel closer to him than anyone else in my life. He’s someone I can see myself getting old with. Ever since I’ve started dating, all I’ve wanted is that one person to depend on, to be with the same person for years, even though I’m not even close to wanting to get married. He’s that person. We don’t play games; we fight but underneath it all is the understanding that we are committed to each other. I don’t live in that perpetual fear of rejection that has plagued most of my relationships.

So why would I want to throw that all away for one night with my ex? He excites me in a way that BF doesn’t. But is it worth it? I don’t think so.

I messaged E yesterday to tell him I can’t meet him this weekend. A part of me is very sad. But he’s bad for me. And I know it.

Ava Adora

Fantasy Fullfillment?

Silent

Technical Difficulties

Ugh

Harvey Wallbanger

Origin of Love

Task 1

Nothing

Topping

Greetings, Fleshbotters!

Handy tip #56

Love letter

Crazy places I have had sex

Would you let me...?

Last weekend

Ice Queen

Inexplicable

HNT #8

Beyond This Dark House

First year redux

A Murder of One

I did it...

Part 2 of why Adora is very, very lucky

HNT #7

Benefits

Getting pierced

First year

Complete and unexpurgated

Computer woes

Cocksucker

HNT #6 - Back in the game

Fantasies

This war of love

Adora, the middle-of-exams edition

I want my HNT!

That time of year again...

A brief break

Sugasm #28

HNT #5 - More Sun

A word about my name

Learning the ropes

Sugasm #27

HNT #4 - Assume the position

Coming clean

Ouch!

HNT #3

Sugasm #25

HNT #2 - Negative Effects

Resistance is futile

Meh

HNT #1

Young Love

...and the gods created love

Seven or Eight Inches, at Least

Slightly Unrelated

Dark Side

Feast

On the move

Notwithstanding

Awakening

MIA

Forgiven

I like toys: Conclusion

Geekslut

I like toys: an update

*HUGE GRIN*

Declaration

Sleeping around

Ignorance

I like toys, part 2

Nervous energy

Gorgeous ass

I like toys

These dreams of you

In praise of the uncut cock

An old flame

Last Night

Second Last Night

Riding in cars with boys

HUGE GRIN