Dec 232009

A post by AAG earlier in the week reminded me of my first blowjob – and man was it awkward. And actually – quite regrettable. I must confess though that I’m not sure which year of high school this occurred, junior or senior year. I know that his name was John and he lived in another school district; we caught each others eye in the Small Town Friday Night Activity of Going To The Mall. LAME! I know. But I thought he was hot. We had something resembling a lame date and then a month or so later I saw him again for my Christmas formal.

He was allowed to drive me to and from the dance, I think. But oddly we didn’t get frisky until he brought me home. He dropped me off and politely made small talk with my father and then I walked him to his car. I originally thought that my father went to bed at that point. Oh silly, silly me. John’s idea of “saying goodnight” was to lure me into his backseat for a few kisses. Or so he said. Have I mentioned how inexperienced I was yet at this age?  Ha! Pretty soon, he whipped out his cock and I hadn’t a damn clue what to do with it other than put my hand on it. Very quickly, his hand on the back of my head increased the pressure of pushing me down to his lap until he had to outright tell me what he wanted because I just wasn’t getting the hint. I do recall telling him that I’d never done that before and wasn’t sure how…..I don’t remember what he said but I felt that I shouldn’t say no, I wanted him to like me.

I couldn’t tell you anymore what I did or didn’t do. I’m pretty sure my teeth caught him once. And I do know that it didn’t last very long, certainly he didn’t come. I was scared enough of Penis; ejaculation would have made me run, I bet.

The worst part? You guessed it by now, my dad wasn’t in bed. He never said anything to me when I came back to the house, but I know he knew I was in that backseat with that boy. Oh, the shame. The shame!!

My regret stems from two facts: This boy didn’t deserve a blowjob from me, because he was a douchebag and I didn’t realize it until afterwards. He faked being grounded to get out of ever seeing me again. And of course that my father had an inkling of me being unladylike in the backseat of the car in my driveway.

I don’t think I sucked another cock until my First Real Boyfriend. Somehow with him I went from being afraid of Penis, Sex and Naked Men to becoming a slutty slut-ho in a week’s time. I fucked him inside a week of dating, and we couldn’t keep our dirty little hands off each other. But that’s a story for another time.


Hey I have another post up at EdenCafe, it’d be great to see some feedback on it :)

Dec 152009

I once had a lover who was a very wealthy man. The sort of showy wealth that would close down a restaurant with the flash of his cash just to have a private dinner. And he did just that, a few days before Christmas.

This restaurant had once upon a time been an old mansion, but now converted to beautiful place of business in wealthy part of the city. In order to add on more dining room space, an all glass “sun room” had  been added on to the back of the house. This room of the restaurant offered a beautiful view of the surrounding area and some privacy from busy bustle of the main dining room. Despite the fact that he had cleared out the place for the night, no patrons save for ourselves, he wanted us to eat back there. I soon saw why.

The glass ceiling was covered in white Christmas lights and there were two lit trees just outside, on each corner. Between the candle on our table and those lights, it was all that was needed for a romantic atmosphere and it provided enough light to see both inside and out into the night. Dinner was full of sumptuous food and sexy surprises. Namely, the coerced removal of my panties and then bra in between courses. He kept them on the table, neatly folded, he said they were too pretty to be stuffed in his pocket. Every time the waiter came to the table I blushed and couldn’t meet his gaze. Cause for even more blushing was how aroused I was soon after the waiter saw both bra and panties on the table. During dinner, my lover would occasionally feed me a bite of his food, sans fork, causing seductive finger-sucking-followed-by-quick-making-out scenes. As he fed me the final morsel of food this way, his hand pushed aside the fabric of my top to expose my breast for his fingers to better pinch my nipple. Soon he was pinching so hard that it hurt but it felt good but it hurt but ohhhhh fuck it felt good. In this moment of painful ecstasy, during which I could not speak, I caught sight of the waiter entering the room from behind my date. The moment his brain latched onto the scene and realized, he silently stopped in his tracks and stared. He stared, mouth open a little, for a few seconds that felt like minutes until he cleared his throat and approached the table.

My date, quite clearly, did not care. His hand did not snap back away from me nor did he make a move to prevent the waiter from seeing my bared breast. The waiter asked about dessert and finally the grip on my nipple was released but he made no move to cover me back up. I was still reeling from the lingering pain and did not hear the quick conversation about dessert.

The waiter cleared the table of all but our nearly-empty wine bottle and glasses and off he scurried. Oddly, he shut the door that led into the main dining room. As I looked questioningly at my date, he stood up and extended his hand for me to take. We walked over to the stand next to the glass, both looking out, him behind me. As his hands and arms wrapped around me we watched cars drive down the street. In a moment I felt his bare, cool hand on my ass, making its way down the cleft of cheeks. He chuckled at how wet I was. Then, as I watched our faint and flickering reflection in the glass, his hands began to lift up my shirt. I tried to stop him, I tried to protest that the waiter would be back soon, but all he said was “Don’t you worry about that” and off came my top. Off came my skirt. I stood naked in a softly lit room, with nothing between me and the outside world except thick panes of glass.

We kissed.

My hands blindly sought out his skin.

His hands, having no barrier, fluidly roamed my body.

My hands, restricted by his clothing, desperately yet weakly fought to get through.

His hands gripping my ass, he lifted me up and my legs wrapped around his waist.

My ass met the cold glass.

His lips found my nipples and I forgot about the cold. If a car were to drive by and the passengers were to look past the twinkling lights on the tree, they would have seen a naked woman’s rear end pressed against the glass wall.

Then he put me down and stepped towards the table, grabbing the wine bottle. He offered me a swig and then he polished off the rest. His eyes lit up as he held the empty bottle. Before I could ask what his intentions were I found myself bent forward with my ass tilted just so to him and my palms on the window. Before I could think I felt the neck of the wine bottle running along my slick cunt. And before I could catch my breath from the shock the bottle was gone and then back again and what the fuck was he…..

He was pushing the bottom end of the slender wine bottle inside of me. Stretching me. It went faster than and easier than I thought it would, the glass slicked up with my wetness.

In the restaurant, against the window he fucked me with that bottle. One hand, one cheek, one tit pressed against the glass, my other hand assaulting my clit, I came hard by the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree outside.

Check out the other participants in this month’s Group Post, hosted by the lovely Kimberly:

Gray –
FG Sakes:
Salt and Pepper @
Barefoot Dreaming:

Dec 082009

Despite working on the top floor, the stairs in the building keep going up – to the roof, I guess. While that would be a pretty fucking awesome place to sneak off too in the middle of the workday for kissing and groping….we’re just not that daring, yet.

But that doesn’t mean we can’t use the stairs. We figured that if anyone should somehow happen upon us or hear us, we’d have about 4 seconds to break apart and pretend we were just sitting there talking.


Sitting there, just talking.

YOU would believe me, wouldn’t you??

I didn’t think so.

One day last week or so, after an amazing amount of tortuous teasing, we surreptitiously snuck into the stairwell at afternoon break time. He went up first, I followed a minute later.  We were taking a huge risk and taking things up a notch. To this point we had not touched anymore more so than his fingers brushing my nipple for a moment. We didn’t say to each other what we were meeting in the stairwell for; I’m not sure either of us really knew until the moment things happened. We smiled at each other as we stood there in close proximity, listening to the door open on our floor and a few people head downstairs. We didn’t speak; we just kept looking at each other and looking down the stairs to make sure no one had noticed us.

As their voices faded, he grinned again and moved his hand to my breast with his thumb lightly caressing my hardening nipple. My lips parted and I drew in a quick breath but I didn’t break eye contact with him. Then he moved his hand up a little to the neckline of my low-cut shirt and slipped his hand underneath my shirt and my bra – bare hand on bare nipple. He already knew I liked it rough so he didn’t hesitate to pinch. A small gasp and a small smile from me encouraged more. The next pinch was harder, and he held on longer. My eyelids shut for a moment and my head fell back; I lost my balance just slightly, just enough for him to steady me at the waist with his other arm. This move pressed our bodies together from the pubic bone downwards and I could feel his cock, hard against my stomach.

Instinctively my hand sought it out and lightly caressed the length of it through his pants. Our lips were barely touching, we were too busy trying not to drown from the touches to actually kiss at first. But then we were. And then our hands and lips worked in a frenzied, passionate tandem; He tugged hard on my nipple while I grasped his cock as best as I could and stroked. I broke the kiss with a near-silent “ow ow ow” because my nipple had reached the pain threshold. Yet still I let out a tiny whimper when his hand left my breast. Then suddenly he pulled down my top and exposed the same nipple he had been roughing up. His head dipped down and I braced for more pain, but instead he traced it with his tongue. The light pressure and warm, wet tongue was an overload of senses after what he had done to me.

I put my hand at the back of his head and pushed him, crushed up, up against my breast so that he would suck or bite or something more. Anything. As he took the cue and began sucking, we heard a door open and the voices of people in the stairwell. He stopped for a split second as we listened, hearts racing, but then I whispered “More, just a minute more please” and he continued on. That was so incredibly hot to have this guy sucking my bared nipple in the stairwell with people two flights down. When we heard another door open and close and the voices went away, I made him stop.

I straightened myself out and he did the same, in silence, until I said “Holy fuck that was…….wow. I absolutely must go jerk off in the women’s room now. Right now.” We exited the stairwell and both headed for the restrooms. The way he grinned at me before he went inside let me know that he had the same mission as me.

Nov 302009


Photographer unknown

I had decided to start adding to my erotic art photography portfolio. Since my end results were primarily high contrast black and white, I wanted to delve into a more licentious subject matter. Porn can easily become art with just a small change in lighting and removing the color from the prints.

I wanted to photograph the contrast between the flesh of a hard-bodied male and a soft, curvy female. The two posing for me did not know each other. I knew each of them in my own weird social circles, though, so their comfort level with me translated well into a pseudo-comfort with each other. And their bodies looked exquisite together.

I made them hold poses for 5-10 minutes, sometimes difficult poses, until I got the angle of light and the angle of the shot “just so”. The proximity of their nakedness and my scrutiny resulted in this beautiful agony of arousal for them both. I asked if they would feel comfortable doing some poses of vaginal penetration for me, and they readily agreed. His thick cock and her diminutive outer labia really lent a “skewered and spread wide” filthy quality to the joining of the contrast in flesh. Her cunt was a glistening, split peach just swallowing his marble hard cock.

Each penetrative pose that I had them hold for such agonizingly long minutes added to their subtle desperate arousal. I wasn’t stupid; I knew what I was doing, what I was creating. She was laid back on a table, while he was standing. Her ass raised up off the table a few inches, and her legs wrapped around his hips for added support, left her body in this downward slant away from him. I had them hold a position of his cock halfway inside of her. As I stood next to her head I bent forward to get a different close-up angle and my long hair trailed over her breasts. I could see the controlled, but rapid, rising and falling of her chest as she did her best to remain stoic. Almost imperceptibly she started pumping her hips to get the friction her cunt was craving. I laid a cool hand on her mound, looked back at her, and sternly told her to be still – she was blurring the shot. Privately though I was grinning; I was pulling their strings so well.

I asked them to adjust slightly so that the current position was more exaggerated – I wanted to get a different angle and needed more space but the same depth of penetration. When I noticed how very wet she was, I used one finger to redistribute it from her cunt opening up to her clit and labia. A firm, slow, touch that teased his cock and her clit. As I did it I locked eyes with him; we smiled at each other when we heard her whispered moan as my finger grazed her swollen clit. It was his turn to groan when I sucked her juices off my finger before continuing. When I looked at her I could see the pink flush creeping across her breasts and face, I knew her breathing was more labored. She looked so beautiful, so overcome with lust, so tortured. I moved the accent light, I slowly walked around them to snap a few more shots. I instructed him to slowly penetrate her almost to the hilt and then lean his body backward. When he did this, I watched her face. Her eyes closed and her lips parted to a slight “o”; the furrowed brow came next and I snapped a few photos of her face for my own use. Then I spread her labia around his cock, a pair of lips in a kiss. Another quick graze over her clit just to be sadistic. A few more shots and I noticed his breathing was getting more shallow and rapid, his eyes closing, his face the same portrait of pleasure as hers.

“What is she doing?” I asked him.

“She’s…..I don’t know….she’s milking my cock….it’s like sex but its…not…” He could barely speak around the controlled effort not to fuck the shit out of her, I presume.

“Carrrrieeee” I taunted. “You just can’t help yourself, can you. You’re trying to come.”

She didn’t answer me. She was lost. I moved and stood right next to him, facing her. I whispered to him to not dare come. She had listened to me; she wasn’t moving her body but I could just make out the movements of her cunt. With my camera held precariously in one hand, aimed at their sexes, I used my other hand to briefly tease and kick her over the edge. With a finger on either side I lightly stroked his cock and let my fingers trail down to do the same to her clit. Back up, back down. My eyes on her face, my camera much lower. Another few strokes and I stopped so that I could concentrate on taking photos of her coming while stretched out around his cock. She whined her apology and her body began these subtle convulsions as she began to come.

“John, you are still not to come, do you hear me?” To his credit he did not…..until she finished contracting around his cock and I told them we were finished. The outward stroke of his cock exiting her body was the last straw, or perhaps the dam just being released. As he climaxed, he sunk to his knees, cock in hand with this full-body look of sheer relief, frustration and bliss all rolled together. I caught that on camera too, clicking away. More for my personal collection.

I kissed her goodbye, deeply, to let her go shower and get dressed.

“Well, John, if you’ll excuse me I need to go pretend to upload these shots to my computer while I actually go jerk off real quick. You two finished, now I need to.” I said. But he grabbed my wrist and pulled me down to him for a kiss. As my clothes were shoved aside I soon found out that he wasn’t quite satisfied and wouldn’t dare leave me to tend to my needs by myself.

Nov 222009

It started simply. It started quickly. We transitioned from the occasional flirty glance to daily teasing and talking all because of one moment of my carelessness, one moment of his prying eyes. I was standing in the elevator lobby tapping away on my cellphone, adding the photo I had taken in my car moments before to a text message to someone, and I didn’t know that D was behind me. We rode the elevator up to the top floor together and about halfway up all other occupants got out.

“So did he like it?”

I just stared at him, heart racing, hoping he didn’t mean what I thought he meant. The grin on his cute, boyish face confirmed against my hopes.


I knew I was blushing and all I could say was “He hasn’t replied yet”. The teasing, kinda-cocky glint in his eye brought my own smile out. We said no more, just proceeded to our respective sections to find our cubicles.

In the days that followed a tentative email and a knowing grin while passing by multiplied into more. We found brief moments throughout the workday to surreptitiously tease and flirt via email. Coded words, double entendres,  secret communications. A heavily-veiled but obvious-to-us message coupled by an innocent-to-others meeting at the printer 5 seconds after for a few words to be quietly uttered that were most definitely not safe for work.It took a lot of self control for us both to keep straight faces and limit the number of “coincidental” encounters and keep our fun under the radar of nosy nearby co-workers.

Soon we were augmenting our coded emails with raunchy text messages. It didn’t take him long to ask to see that same photo that started it all, the one he only caught a glance of, a flash of naked skin. I pondered that, I weighed the risk. I decided to ask for an insurance policy. I told him I wouldn’t send it to his phone unless he sent me a naughty pic first. For once I managed to silence the boy with all the snappy comebacks. I texted him again and proceeded to describe the photo he was asking for in explicit, sultry words. Then I described another one that was also in my phone. When I told him to meet me at the copier in 1 minute, his response made it hard for me not to outwardly gloat.

“I can’t get up from my desk right now without being obvious that uh….something came up…”

“Show me. Now. Turn away from T and let me see what is so obvious.”

The photo he complied with showed a bulge that seemed out of place in his work pants. Ha! Subtle, but I knew what I was looking at. And thus, the teasing and risque photo dares started (there is something so deliciously naughty about a hard cock surrounded by office clothes). It was hot and arousing and distracting and such a delicious surprise, this turn of events. But yet still…..this did not go beyond work. This did not go beyond glances, words, text and photos despite how close by our cubicles really were. Until…..

Until the day I was wearing this ever-so-slightly sheer top at work. I went into the bathroom to take a photo for him, my bra cups shoved down and tits exposed. The text along with the photo told him that I was leaving my bra like that for awhile and that he should take notice the next time he walked by me. Oh, he noticed. A little while later as we stood by the printer pretending to sort through papers he stood close to me for a moment and accidentally-on-purpose brushed the back over his hand over my breast. The touch caused my nipple to harden instantly. Oh, he noticed. For what felt like minutes but was more like 3 seconds, his fingers lightly caressed my rock hard nipple through my thin shirt. I didn’t breath until he stopped and once he did stop it took me a minute to regain my composure and know that I could walk the 8 feet to my desk. Aided by our clutches of printed papers, me hiding my nipples that could cut glass and him hiding the hard bulge in his dress pants, we scurried back to our cubes where the messages flew back and forth. He knew about my bullet vibrator; he knew I carried it with me but I had told him that I never used it at work before or at least not at my desk. He thought he was being so daring. He asked questions about it and I knew what was coming.

“You should go put the bullet in and turn it on while you’re at your desk…..I dare you, Lilly.”

Oh gee, why gosh no, I couldn’t possibly do that……

Oh, a dare, you say? Well how can I refuse then?

And so it went. He asked, I told, about how good it felt and how naughty I was. I told him how my chest was flushed red and I was so close to coming. It was nearing 4pm. He waited a bit longer, for half of our co-workers to head out for the day, before he came to my desk under the guise of showing me how to look something up in our system. And he saw for himself my beautiful agony, how badly I needed it. While I followed his work-related instruction he whispered “I dare you to come right here at your desk as I watch”.

I should win an Emmy for that performance. Pretending to be taught, pretending to ask real questions, all while letting only barely audible moans escape as he spoke and I ground the bullet into my clit. As I felt that moment of imminent orgasm I couldn’t speak, I could only subtly tap his hand to let him know. He stared and watched the show as I tried to feign normalcy while my body betrayed me. My eyelids fluttered, I jerked three tiny body spasms that slipped from my control, and I felt the heat spread across my face and my chest. When I met his eyes again I saw awestruck lust.

“Thanks for showing me, D, I’ll let you know if I have any other problems.” I smiled serenely and stared at him until he walked away, with a tiny restrained smile on his lips.

Nov 032009

When I’m driving long distances alone I either listen to music, or think. This trip I let my mind wander on its own.

It took an old, familiar route that day – a route I try not to go down willingly anymore. But so be it.

And the old, familiar throbbing and wetness between my legs followed quickly behind, enjoying this re-visit. I didn’t expect this, I tend not to of late. And so the trusty bullet vibrator that used to always have a home in my handbag was languishing in the toy drawer back at home. Little damn use to me, there, two hours away. Soon my lack of patience and my growing need dictated that my pulsing clit would not, could not be ignored.

I glanced around at the easy traffic on the winding four-lane suburban highway as I undid my jeans. But soon my hand was tired from the combined efforts of rubbing tights circles and pushing space in my snug jeans. It’s not an easy feat to push one’s panties and jeans down ass and hips while driving, but I did it. My long shirt covered my tummy and cunt but patches of pale skin was visible at my hips and the tops of my thighs, should a passing motorist of the correct height happen to glance over and inside my car.

I discretely but roughly rubbed tight circles around my clit, through a slickness that isn’t common. I kept feeling the nearness of orgasm but couldn’t quite tip over the edge. I passed the first of a long stretch of scattered-about “adult stores” and wondered if they carried a suitable bullet vibrator. But I didn’t even slow down, I didn’t even give it a second thought.

Until the next seedy store. By which point my frustration and need had ratcheted up another notch. They boasted videos and viewing booths, though, so I didn’t even slow down.

By the third store I lost my nerve and thought that surely I could wait for home.

When I saw the signs for the fourth store, though, I once again considered it with more weight. My middle finger was pruney from its extended soak in my wetness. My chest and face were flushed, my brow knitted in this look of begging mixed with frustration. I kept the pleasure level at a steady 8 and 9 but I couldn’t get to 10.

I lost my nerve when I saw the fifth store because it just looked too busy with pickup trucks and dirty older cars.

The sixth and final store. Now or never. Or at least another 90 minutes which felt like forever. It looked empty, boasted a wide selection of items and looked only moderately seedy. I pulled into the lot. I got out of my car and through the door as quickly as possible before I lost my nerve or too many people passing by saw me. It took me a minute to find my way to the two aisles of sex toys, and another minute to do a visual scan for my necessary aide. I saw only unknown crap brands but picked up two that looked like they might work. I grabbed a 4-pack of AA batteries and went to the counter. Unlike my last experience, long ago, with this sort of store the guy behind the counter wasn’t scary. He wasn’t intimidating or creepy. In fact he was fairly normal, under 40 and average looking. He stared at my purchases for a moment – or was he staring at my fingers, which I just now realized probably still smelled of pussy juice and looked like I’d been in a bathtub too long  – and then asked if I was buying them both. I paused before I answered “Yes….unless I can put batteries in them both and see which one is better”. I didn’t expect him to agree but he did.

With fumbling fingers under a watchful gaze I slid the cardboard backing from the plastic bubbles to extract the vibrators. I put the batteries in them both at the same time, turned them on and found a clear winner in the “vibration intensity” category. I put the lesser one back in its packaging and told him I’d be buying the other one. With a teasing look he said “Gonna wear this one home are ya? Want me to just toss the packaging out?”. I blushed and finally looked him in the eye and confirmed that yes, I’d be using that one momentarily. He didn’t move to ring my purchases up so I prompted him with “that’s all I need, thanks”.

“If you use it right here, right now, I won’t charge you for any of it” he said.

My mouth open, I didn’t have a response right away. I waited for him to carry on with ringing me out, assuming he was joking, but he just waited for an answer.

“No way in hell am I getting naked or partially naked for you, can I just buy these please?”

“This looks small, has a cord….you don’t need to show any skin at all.” If he had said this with a leer I would have left. But he kept with that half-serious half-teasing attitude until my guard dropped.

I looked around the store, saw only one guy trying to hide towards the back and not be recognized.

“Where?” I asked.

He nodded at the counter, pushed some displays aside and said “Here”.

Fine. What the hell, right? I didn’t live in this area and sure as hell would never return here. I hoisted my butt up onto the counter and, bullet in hand, I laid back. Hand down my pants, the bullet found its home and I turned it on high. I gasped as the vibrator woke up my clit. I closed my eyes and let my mind go back from whence it came as I ground the buzzing bullet to my clit in slick circles. I was intent on coming as quickly as possible. It felt like forever but was likely just mere minutes until I felt the certainty of orgasm approaching.  As soon as I was safely “there” and my climax crested I slowly opened my eyes. I couldn’t focus through my haze but I could tell that both men had been watching. I tried to tone it down as much as possible but I couldn’t prevent the involuntary rapid breathing, little  moans and spasms of my body. It was another minute before I regained my senses enough to fully remember what the situation was; when the clarity hit I silently removed the bullet, zipped up my jeans and hopped off the counter. When I glanced at the guy who worked there I could see he was still grinning but my bravery was gone…..and so was I.