Feb 152009
 

Talk, talk and more talk. Pretty words, sexy words, dirty words.

I told him

“Enough already.”

Put up or shut up, boy.

I need some skin on skin, lip to lip contact.

“Come here. Come to my door.”

I said

“It’s after midnight and we can hide in the shadows that fall on the side of my building.

Flash your headlights and I’ll see you pull up

I’ll come out my door and duck around the corner.

You don’t have to use any more words, just kiss me

My back up against the cold brick wall

Cold hard against my back, warm hard against my front

But you have to go now.

You have to come here now.”

And he did.

Disregard for the windows of the other apartment facing my brick wall

Disregard for anybody passing by on the street

My leg snaked around his thigh, pulling him to me

His hands under my shirt, groping twisting pinching like a high school boy

After 10 minutes of hard kissing, of grinding my pubic bone against his bulge

After 10 minutes of gasping and whimpers and almosts

I sent him back home.

All I needed was a little kiss.

“I’ll let you know when I need another fix.”

Feb 122009
 

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In my post earlier this week I spoke of how one’s impression of sexbloggers can differ greatly from the reality.  Many of us that participate in HNT post weekly provocative half-nekkid photos. We’re dressed in sexy near-nothings, or wearing nothing and posed sinfully. Not all, but a lot. And most do not include their face in the photos. Therefore many readers must think that we must be model-beautiful to be posing and preening like that and having all this sex! All this hot, sexy, kinky sex!

And the fact is, we’re not all 10′s. I read on the swinger blogs quite often that the couple writing was disappointed by the lack of attractive (to them) people at the swinger clubs to fuck – but hey we all have sex. Words and attitude can make up for a fuck of a lot, I’ve found. We’re all tapping in to our inner Sex God(dess) and bringing it slowly to the forefront.

Those who responded to my earlier post agreed that their real-life, non-superhero alter-ego is a good “cover” so to speak. Perhaps some of us are “average”. Perhaps others are “above average” in the physical appearance department. But, regardless, unlike people such as Audacia Ray and Violet Blue and Rachel Kramer Bussell, our real life work/socialization doesn’t have anything to do with sex. We are not “out” in that way.

Someone brought up a good point though. And a few points to ponder.

It all seems so innocuous, doesn’t it? These masks that we wear in public and even to our close family and friends. The question of the moment is : Would you treat somebody you know personally near and dear to you any different if all of the sudden they had a blog. What if they had a sex blog? What if…. they had a sex blog and you’ve been commenting there for a long long time?

So….what if?

What if you found out that they had a sex blog?

I’m not going to touch on the area of co-workers because you’re not usually close to them despite sometimes seeing them more waking hours than your family. But what if you found out your aunt/uncle/cousin had a sex blog? Your parent(s)? Your child? Is the blood relation a multiplier in the squick factor?

In speaking of a family member, I don’t know how you all were raised but as a kid you were kicked out of the room for “adult” conversations. As a teenager you likely hid your burgeoning sex life from these authority figure adults. And holy gods it was eye-burn-worthy if you walked in on a family member (parents, worse) having sex. It’s a fact of life, it’s something nearly everyone does to some degree. But with those people it’s a taboo topic. Now I know of people who openly and graphically speak of their sex lives with, say, their mom. I couldn’t do it, I just couldn’t. To find out a family member has a sex blog could be awkward, weird and uncomfortable knowledge.

Now, your close friends. It’s a different matter, no? Those are your peers to whom you likely do talk about sex with in some fashion. Depending on how prudish all or some involved parties are is the extent of the conversations. I know that any sexblogger wouldn’t be very phased by the knowledge; we’re all open and sexual beings.

What if you found out that they have a sex blog AND you’re a regular reader/commenter?

Would it lessen the blow, or the squick factor, with family members? Or would it be worse because you’ve now inadvertently been privy to all sorts of information and maybe photos that well…..just isn’t “normal” for family members to share.

What about if it were a friend? A sex that you’re not attracted to, would you be less open to their kinks and likes now that you know them? A sex you are attracted to but perhaps not the particular person; is your view of them going to change? Will you suddenly be attracted to them in real life?

What if you are the one being found out, or being read?

I know one blogger in particular had this problem and for her it was a major squick factor (because it was a family member who found her blog, and continued to read knowing it was her and her half-nekkidness).  Would you expect those who found out to treat you negatively or at least think less of you? Or would you adamantly insist that their views of you not change? Would you be furious if you lost the friendship of someone who had very opposite sexual ideals, solely based on your blog?

Me? I would likely embrace the knowledge if it were a friend. I wouldn’t be upset that they never told me, most likely. A family member would be a different story. I think I would be a bit scarred. I think there would be a bit of deterioration to the relationship, perhaps temporarily perhaps permanently. Is that wrong of me being a very open and sexual person with my peers?

If I were found out  – I would completely expect that my family members would see it all very negatively. Real life friends? I don’t know. An open relationship isn’t normal but it isn’t as taboo as infidelity. Of course I have a healthy dose of “embracing mysluthood” on here which could be seen negatively as well by many. I’d be saddened if I lost a friend or was shut out entirely by a family member, but if they’re so uptight and unforgiving that this would be my great sin….hm. I don’t know.

Feb 112009
 
{note: This is not for HNT and there will not be any HNT this week}

He had me mark myself for him. Branded, I suppose. “This hole is for Master to cum in” was written on my thigh for him to see. “R’s Whore” written in another spot.

words-001

When I see him, I know he’ll write on me. He has said he’ll do it in black permanent marker. A “tramp stamp” across the small of my back. Filthy words for him to see as he’s fucking me. What will he write?

For His use only

Cum Slut

If found, return to R ok maybe not…heh

When I return home that night to my partner, I will whisper to him the slutty filthy things I did, that were done to me; he’ll see the words and take his own turn claiming my cunt.

I will wear the words in secret for days until they disappear on their own. I don’t know how long it will take for permanent marker to wash off, but I suspect it’s at least a few days.

I don’t know what else he might write. Any ideas? What would you write, be it on me or on your own slut?

Feb 082009
 

If you worked in my building, if you saw me on the streets, if you met me at a party, would you ever guess I write this blog and post these pictures and do what I secretly do?

Probably not.

Outside of my partner, no one in “real life” knows about this blog. This is the case for many many (most) blogs I read. It is the case for many others, this blurry line between “real 3D life” and the virtual reality world we have created between IM and email and blogs and commenting and Twitter. So when I was at the party back in November, it was very surreal to be meeting these people whom, for some, I knew intimately from the neck down – “It’s so nice to put a face with the tits!” – and more surreal to be called Lilly as if it were my real name. But I got used to it, I got used to hearing it. It’s not a huge deviation from my real first name anyways.

Last night I met Naughty Secretary, whom I’ve been chatting up online for a number of months. We only live a few hours apart, it’s a wonder we waited so long! But we’re lazy. The reason for the monumental occasion was her birthday party.

First, let me ask this to other bloggers who’ve met bloggers: Were you surprised by how….”normal” the other person looked? I mean many of us post risque or pornographic photos, artistic nudes, words to make your mother blush. But you wouldn’t peg us into that at first look or first conversation even. Right? Have you ever been let down? Expected someone more flashy? Or do you, like me, merely sit there in the quiet moments and think “But you don’t look kinky!!” (as Catalina said of Nadia‘s MasterDoc when meeting him at the NYC party). Take, for example, NS’s man. As I played Go Fish with this guy, glared at him for taking my damn 8′s, or merely listened to him in conversation with others, the contrast between what I knew about him from her and what I saw in front of me proved moreso that you really really cannot peg kinky unless they’re dressed in kink leather gear or something. So I wonder what people think of me.

As I said, no one in my “real life” knows about my blog. When I might speak of those I’ve met online because of the blog, I’m always at a loss to say how I know them. I usually gloss over that. But at NS’s party, everyone there knew or would know that she has a sexblog and writes erotica. I was also introduced as such to everyone there at some point in the evening. It was surreal. Did they think “Really?? Her????”.

She’s awesome to hang out with, by the way. But no I wouldn’t peg her without knowing that she writes erotica so professionally. So deftly does she blur the line between fact and fiction on her blog that one never knows which is which.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I got a new cell phone Friday. This was a harried occasion, I found out from the person who’s plan I had been on that they decided not to renew their contract. I couldn’t complain, I wasn’t paying for it (call it compensation for 3 years of brutal hell working for the man), but 2 days notice leaves one in a bit of a bind.

I really wanted a Blackberry but couldn’t yet afford the monthly plan for it – Later this year I hope to, and I might need more internet access in a phone because I still have no earthly idea what will happen when my department merges with another and we move to a different building. My job duties will likely change and there’s a decent chance I’ll lose internet access. I’ve mentioned it before. It makes me realize how damn attached I am to it. But it’s not something one can ask in their interviews for a new position/job – “Will I have internet access here so I can fuck around during the workday here and there (and everywhere)?”

So now I have this cool little AT&T Quickfire phone – all sorts of new for me with its QWERTY keypad and touchscreen. The photos that it takes are bigger than my last phone, I’m sure you’ll appreciate them more. I had originally gone with AT&T because I thought I’d want an iPhone. Indeed there are all these cool apps and the camera is awesome and blahblahblah. BUT it’s entirely touchscreen, you cannot use a stylus, and this phone I have now is making me feel like I have fat fingertips. So I do believe I would launch my iPhone across the room in short order, therefore, a Crackberry is the most advanced I’ll likely ever go.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

My patience is waning. I am getting bored more easily these days. I have become fickle and keeping my attention is not an easy feat. I will flippantly cut a blog from my public or feed reader blogroll. Quit following someone’s updates on Twitter. Glare suspiciously at the constant 1-2 dozen of people sitting there in my Twitter queue that want to be allowed to follow my updates and I reject most of them. If I don’t know you or know of you, it’s not real likely, honestly. I view Twitter differently than a lot of people, I think.

I am removing people from my IM buddy lists and my cell phone and email contacts. I am culling. I don’t know why, or what the end result will be. S, for example, disappeared around the holidays. Only to come back a few weeks later all apologies and valid (family) reasons. Fine….but then he’d disappear again. Come back again, disappear again. I’d hear from him for an email or two in 24 hours and then nothing for 2 weeks. And to be honest, I just lost interest. I’m not willing to get invested in a play relationship or friendship who disappears more than Houdini. Sigh….next!

As I trim the dead I realize that the ones I am keeping in contact with are the important ones, the only ones who really matter. I am not a social butterfly, I keep my circle tight. And even within that circle is an inner circle of which there are only a handful – at the end of the day only their prescence matters.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

This is the “Sunday-morning-I’m-not-totally-sober-or-awake-and-the-bed-is-comfy-but-here-try-out-my-new-phone” photo. Thrilling, eh?

noname

Sugasm 158

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Feb 082009
 

The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #159? Submit a link to your best post of the week by emailing me directly at radicalvixenatgmaildotcom Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks
Sealing the Deal
“A hand reached down and grabbed my chin firmly, pulling it up to get a look at my face.”

Wait for me on your knees.
“She’s not scared or wincing but open and accepting, drinking in the sensation.”

What DO Women Want?
“This cultural context also means that what research describes might not be how things actually are, but how the current culture is shaping them to be.”

Sugasm Editor
Sex Work And Honesty: Political Opinions

Editor’s Choice
Like Rube Goldberg

More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm

See also: Fleshbot’s Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday.

 Posted by at 10:59 am
Feb 012009
 

parking1

 

Do you see that stairwell there? That very well-lit and glassed-in stairwell?

He had me there. Yes, I do mean he fucked me there.

The indiscretion was not planned, you see. But I couldn’t have planned anything that delicious. We were only meeting up for an hour, for drinks, fairly innocent. The parking in the city is mere dollars after 8pm, and it is scarce anywhere else, therefore it was only natural I park there. We had our drinks, we flirted, we stared, we knew. We left after 45 minutes and he asked if I wanted to go for a walk; things were quiet in the city because it was a weeknight. We could just walk and talk and not be overcome by noise pollution. I agreed but I wanted to drop my bag off to my car, and so we went.

It was still warm outside, warm for October that is. I wore my favorite skirt, knee-length and full soft cotton. The parking lot was pretty deserted but I still thought better of it, that perhaps I should not leave my purse on the car seat. After a moments consideration I leaned over to the passenger seat to tuck my bag under it. With one knee on the driver’s seat and my ass in the air….well you can see what might have put a notion in his head. I slipped my car key off the ring and kept only that key, tucking it into my bra as his eyes followed my hands. As soon as I shut my door and turned around, he slowly and methodically came closer to me. Closer and I was pressed against my car with him pressed against me.

The kissing got heated and intense until a foursome noisily made their way to their cars, their drunken voices reverberating irritatingly off the concrete structure. They were slow to go away so we decided to exit quickly and take that walk after all. The closest and quickest way away from them was that stairwell.

As soon as we were alone again he grabbed my hand and pulled me to him. As we kissed he slowly backed me up to the wall. No, not the wall….it was the glass. He pressed against me with purpose and I could not ignore the hard cock pressing into my belly. His hands took on a life of their own and soon found my ass. Not enough, apparently, as he slowly pulled my skirt up in the back until my ass was exposed to the glass, to whomever could be out there, and his fingers explored my flesh.

To say that things quickly escalated would be an understatement. He removed my shirt and yanked down a bra cup roughly to sate his desire for his lips to meet my breast. My hands found his cock, found his button, found his zipper, found his cock. With his hands on the glass I crouched down to suck him for a few moments. One hand reached down to manuever my bra strap off of my shoulder, to expose my breast to his fingers. As I sucked, he pinched. When he breathlessly warned me that he could see someone outside, I looked up and flat-out stated that I simply didn’t care. He groaned and then roughly pulled me up to standing. His lips found my nipple. His fingers dove under my sodden panties and quickly found my clit.

“Too bad you don’t have a condom” I said.

And he stopped, immediately and stood up. As he stared me down he wordlessly reached for his back pocket and….yes, he did too have one.

I grinned a grin that said “You cocky bastard” as he turned me around, away from him. My palms on the glass, I backed up until I was bent over at the waist, legs spread a bit. He flipped my skirt up and in one move yanked my panties off my ass and left them around my ankles. They cut into my skin a bit as I spread my legs further while waiting for him to sheath up. He entered without warning and we both cursed.

What would someone see if they looked up? For how could they not from say, 50 feet, notice the couple fucking in the well-lit stairwell 4 floors up? They saw me being fucked; my one forearm pressed to the glass and my forehead resting on my arm. One breast hanging outside of my bra, swaying from the force. My other hand between my legs as I violently rubbed my clit. I know how slutty I looked. But they wouldn’t have known that I barely knew the guy fucking me, so they wouldn’t have known the depth of my sluttiness.

Right there in that stairwell. That very well-lit and glassed-in stairwell.