May 162010

The party was winding down, and the previously half-lit rooms of the venue delved back into only barely-lit as it changed from the party back to just being a bar/restaurant. As I stood with friends I spied a couple making out like high school kids. I had chatted up the female half of the couple numerous times during the party and she was, indeed, cute and kissable. They weren’t hiding, but they were off in the corner with his back to the wall, in between a few small, short drink tables scattered about to look like a hip version of someone’s living room. They quite clearly were fully absorbed into their kissing and had no cares what was going on around them. Adding to the mix was that they were, to put it bluntly, drunk.

Conversation around me continued and I occasionally joined in but I kept watching the couple. Mostly I was wondering if they were going to be so lost in their kissing that they would forget their surroundings and get a little more interesting. Finally after another fifteen minutes had progressed and they were still locked in teenage kissing, I grew bored of them and my surroundings. I grabbed myself another drink and casually, slowly, headed over near them. Closer. When I was right next to them and they still did not notice, I put my lips to his ear (loud music, you know) and whispered “Touch her boobs, I bet she’d like that” and I backed up a foot.

Without breaking from her lips, and giving no indication that he’d even noticed me consciously, his left hand drifted up from her waist, slowly. He dragged his fingers along the underside of her large breast, tentatively, teasingly. Her body responded in kind, subtly writhing and asking his fingers to explore more. Thankfully the guy wasn’t a complete moron and he continued to boldly squeeze, caress and fondle her tits through her cute t-shirt. When he presumably found her hard nipple he pinched through t-shirt and bra….she broke the kiss to groan and screw up her face in this gorgeous mix of pleasure and pain, her eyes still closed from the kissing of moments earlier. In a haze of overstimulation, alcohol and lust, she opened her eyes partially and in a few seconds her gaze settled on me. I just smiled at her….a slow, knowing, power-hungry-lust-driven smile. I thought about perhaps whispering a command in her ear, but I figured that her partner in crime there wasn’t in any need of coaxing or more arousal. So instead, I suggested to him and only him that “You know, it would be easier to pinch those nipples if her t-shirt and bra weren’t in the way…..why don’t you push them aside?”

He resumed kissing her as a means of distraction, perhaps, or just to simply return to the kissing. The hand on her tit dropped back to her waist and hovered there, just under her shirt, just touching flesh. With both hands he slowly inched her t-shirt up her belly and finally stopped when the front of her shirt was just barely exposing her bra-covered tits. More groping ensued, and then as I instructed, the bra shoved upwards as well exposing her heavy, pale tits. I can’t even tell you how badly I wanted in on the action, to run my tongue around her nipples, but I practiced restraint and just watched.

I watched, as his hands got busy and her breasts were lavished attention. I watched, as pelvic grinding ensued, like two horny kids. I watched, as lust-and-alcohol-drunken kissing continued. I watched, and wondered, if I needed to continue my game and my instructions.

I didn’t, as it were. One of his hands traveled down her body, round her ass and down her chubby thigh, promptly grabbing it and wrapping it around him. This act strained the knee-length denim skirt she was wearing to a restriction that appeared to be painful. Alcohol and hormones cause her to rectify this in a way that made me proud and utterly delighted – she hiked her skirt up to the tops of her thighs, and moved the raised leg from her boy’s legs to one of those low tables. I could see her neon blue thong and whomever should choose to notice the horny couple in the corner would have seen the very bottom of her curvy ass cheeks peeking out from the skirt.

In short order his wandering hands figured out the new development and he shoved that thong so far to the side that it offered her absolutely no modesty, to my glee. A glistening, bare shaved cunt nearly brought me to my knees. The poor girl was so riled up that it only took a few short minutes of his attentions but oh what attentions they were  – his mouth on hers, one hand pinching a nipple and one hand on her cunt, fingering her clit into submission. Watching her come was a beautiful sight indeed. Flushed, twitching, pleasure, pain, sighs, moans, silence, breathing, stillness, recovering.

I left them in her afterglow to join my friends who were finally nearing their slow trek to the door. The cold, brisk night air was very much needed by me.

May 112010

The most delicious part of a perfect kiss is not the pressing of lips together. It is not the claiming, lustful engulfing.

It’s the moment of hesitation. When lips are millimeters apart, when time freezes, when your brain stops thinking and just reacts, just feels.

Perhaps it is the hesitation before lips meet for a first, tentative kiss. Or maybe it’s a hesitation in the transition between small, explorative kisses and giving in to lust. It could be that the hesitation is due to uncertainty. Or fighting a losing battle over lust. With an established partner that hesitation could also be intentional and meant to merely be a maddening tease. Draw out the longed-for moment of contact.

The hesitation is one of those times where so much more is said in the inaction than the action. And I keep coming back to it in my mind, and it is just as prominent in my memory bank as the actual kiss. Recalling the brief second where a whirling eddy of thoughts and wants ran through my own mind is almost more arousing to me now than the kiss that followed.

Apr 232010

Ana’s challenge all semester has been her professor. To break his will. Make him break his rules. She’s sneaky about it, too. Today when she walked into the classroom, her skirt wasn’t quite that short. She lulled him into a sense of security, she let him see her come through the door in a fairly modest mid-thigh pleated skirt. She knew better and knew he wouldn’t allow her up at the chalkboard wearing something slutty, something tempting. So when he wasn’t looking she rolled up the waistband of her skirt to just the right (practiced) length. Just enough to show the tops of her thigh-highs….enough to show off her panties in the right circumstance.

When she spun around after finishing the equation, she caught him staring and blushing.

And as the class let out 15 minutes later…..

“Ana, may I speak with you please? Meet me in my office. Now.”

See who else is playing….

Apr 222010

Am I fixated on things simply because I cannot have them?

I have found that in the last year or so, I’m not much interested in most men. It takes a *lot* for me to have an interest in a man (perhaps because I’m still comparing, and most are still falling short). Even then, that interest seems to want to stay firmly online. Oh sure my cunt might have some opinions and want to sate the need but then we will both just get disappointed because casual sex is just not satisfactory to me or my cunt.

In porn, both video and photo, I have little interest in the men. It’s the women who get my full attention, who arouse me. I seek them out. I flick past hetero couplings, bored. Blow jobs? Meh. Oh wait, close-up of her pussy? Her coming? Ok I’ll watch now. The only thing that interests me would be group encounters because I think that’s hot and I haven’t had much of it.

Oh and I do not like “porn” porn. I like homemade “amateur” porn. I don’t want paid actors even if it’s the alt/indie stuff and the orgasms are real. No I want the stuff that makes me feel like a fly on the wall. Female solos I love. Girly sex looooove. Exhibitionism/outdoor sex I love even if it is hetero, bc that’s my kink.

On one of my amateur pic sites I came across a link to something called Dare Dorm. It’s this site where college kids are urged to send in their sex tapes for a chance to win like 10 grand. That’s a fuck of a lot of beer and weed money, my friends. Now, granted, you’re going to get some annoying stereotypes. But there’s also some gems of true hedonism. Some tentative “for the camera” girl-on-girl that soon turns to “the real thing”. In one, the foreground girl couple are decent and one’s fucking the other (albeit a little blandly) with a glass dildo but it’s the background girl couple that put me over the edge……they’re lounging back there just watching their two friends get it on, watching the girl climbing to orgasm and their arousal takes them to each other. You can see both the foreground girls and the background. The background girls start out with some kisses and progress to more.

Where the fuck were girls like this when *I* was in college?!?!?! I knew I shoulda stuck around longer and gone against my better judgment to join a sorority *sigh*

In another video, my favorite actually, a drunken “suds rave” (mini, like 8 people) turns to kinda-sorta-orgy. In the bunkbed you’ve got couple A going at it the whole time on the bottom bed while couples B and C shake the bed from the top. It’s the top bunk who I loved watching because of the one girl. Sadly she left her clothes on the whole time, just shoved them around instead, I really wanted to see her fully naked. Yum….

She’s vocal and passionate and the action started with the other chick going to town on her tits. yum yum yum oh yes. Brown haired chick’s orgasmic moans were what made me come eventually (fingers! just fingers!) watching her get it from a guy and a girl. I can’t wait to tag-team someone like that, know they’re being stimulated from every possible angle. Well technically I can’t wait to just devour a woman, period. It’s been too long and I need to do it properly.

Apr 202010

The flirting has been coming back in bits and pieces; odd occurrences and mostly lighthearted. Some improper things said, things we used to say, and then 5 minutes later it’s back to talking about whatever.

I don’t know why it’s back.

He is the one who put the ban on this side of the friendship, last year.

I tried very hard to stop thinking about him that way for many months. I wouldn’t let myself. It worked for a number of months though, I kept it at bay. And then the first time of falling off the wagon together I tried to quickly push it away. “Shouldn’t do that”. Teasing here, inappropriate innuendo there.

But every now and then I give in for a few minutes with him. I guess he’s giving in, too. Occasionally he’ll get Toppy with me and that affects me even more. He knows it. But we shouldn’t do this. But I think we can’t help it, given the infectious grins that spread on our faces for the few minutes.

And it always starts off so inconspicuously. Innocent, like the sort of teasing that might occur now and then between any other pair of friends who share a hint of attraction to each other. But the problem with us is the history, the knowing how to push each others buttons. We shouldn’t. But it’s hard to resist. It’s an ego stroke, I guess. It feels good in more than one way.

It always shocks me how quickly an off-hand, innocent “joking” remark can turn into something that makes me squirm. Last week it was bratty banter and a “shut up or I’ll whip you” which, in text, is harmless. Harmless, except for how badly I still want him to actually do it. Before I could catch myself I said something to the effect of “front or back?” and the mental image of him wielding a flogger or his hand to my naked ass and then my bare cunt was just too much for me to handle. He knew it was getting to me; and I told him so. When he gave me an order (half-joking?) it would have been so easy for me to give in and answer with nothing more than the “Yes, sir” that wanted to fall off my tongue. I shouldn’t, I knew it. He tried again and it took all of my self control to stay my course.

Of course, where did I find myself hours later?

Egging him on. Giving in, subtly. Telling myself, telling him (but not outloud) to go there again and I’ll follow. Thankfully (I guess) he didn’t take the bait. Either I was too subtle or the “shouldn’t”s took control for him again or he was merely too deeply embroiled in work drama whereas first thing in the morning he’s still in transition. A minor rebuff, a reality check for me. Just as well……….

Feb 242010

Living in an apartment complex means a reduced amount of privacy overall. Especially where the balcony is concerned. I’ve often wished for more privacy there, more seclusion, but sometimes the lack of it proves exciting. The apartment on the other side of us is a mirror image, and so our balconies share a wall – the 2-foot wide brick wall separates the balconies from building wall to railing and at least affords complete visual privacy from the balconies in one’s own building. But since we’re visible to 4 other buildings and a portion of the parking lot below, I don’t ever notice many people using their balconies in the warmer months.

We had a rogue very warm day in late fall, a few months ago, the lovely sort that occurs after leaves have fallen and bugs have started hibernation. Evening became night as I reclined on the balcony, reading, but I was so comfortable that I strained to continue reading with no more light than that coming from the sliding glass door behind my head. I heard the noisy, squeaky screen door open and shut on the other side of the brick wall but I paid no mind. I didn’t expect whoever it was to stay out there. But then I heard the muffled, hushed tones of a couple talking and laughing. I tried (of course) to eavesdrop but I couldn’t make anything out. I blocked it out until it changed – to mostly silence punctuated by a random giggle.

I lowered my book to my lap and focused on listening, trying to figure out what I was hearing.

Kissing sounds.

I heard their kissing become more passionate and insistent. Then I heard a giggle from her and a whisper of faux-indignation and what sounded like “someone will see us”. Voyeur interest officially piqued, I went about the task of getting myself from my lounger to the wall as silently as possible. I noticed a faint section of light being cast from their sliding glass door and I momentarily pondered if it was worth it to leave the apartment, sneak around back, and try to spy. I decided against it and instead I stood up against the wall, as close to the railing as I dared. I bit my lip when I heard a little moan from one of them.

A wave of disappointment crashed over me as I heard the squeak of their screen door – on second thought, that was quick….squeak…light off from inside the apartment…squeak again. No, instead of going inside, he just turned off the interior lights and said something to her about it being dark now. Apparently that quieted her fears because I heard the sounds of zippers and buckles and pants with laden pockets hitting the balcony deck.

More hushed giggles, more kissing sounds. A gasp followed immediately by a quiet, restrained moan. I had to make up the images in my head, try to picture what caused that gasp, who’s mouth was on what body part. Or was it even a mouth? Perhaps his fingers found purchase inside her hot, wet slit. Maybe the fingers were lingering above the waist and caressing her nipples, teasing, drawing it out. I decided it had to be the nipples in a teasing fashion because I would expect less restraint if he were rubbing her clit.

I barely realized that my own hand was lightly teasing my own nipple. My eyes were closed so that I could better concentrate on their sounds. Have you ever just listened to the sounds of sex? It’s not like porn, it’s not a caricature or obvious all the time. I stood and listened, trying to determine if the wet sounds were mouth-on-cock, fingers-in-really-wet-cunt, or cock-in-wet-cunt. Either visual was arousing but no, I wanted to try and be right. I strained to hear more; the heavy breathing was a deeper resonance, perhaps it was mouth-on-cock? My guess was confirmed when he gave it away with a “Fuck yes, baby, suck it harder”. I imagined his hands on her head, staring at the sight of her lips devouring his cock, relishing the feel of her warm tongue pressing against the underside.

…….to be continued…..