Posted by Lilly | 17 Comments

Wanton Wednesday: Flashing at my window

Across the street is a small shopping plaza, and the street in front of my house is pretty busy. As daring as flashing tits while driving? No. Probably not. But I work with what I got ;)

 

Go see who else is being Wanton, wouldja?

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Posted by Lilly | 12 Comments

Puppet Master

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.

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Posted by Lilly | 25 Comments

HNT: Driving with the top down

The last time I tried this, I was alone and driving on the Turnpike where the other drivers are whizzing by at high speeds. This time I was with my hub and on a smaller 4-lane road where the drivers aren’t going by me quite as quickly. I fear one minivan contained impressionable young children. Oh dear.

Hub is now further reminded why he should go on weekend trips with me even if its to see my mother, because the rewards are great. Icing and tits….not much else better!

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Posted by Lilly | 13 Comments

Group Post: By the Twinkling Lights…

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:

Amy:http://www.moresexchocolateandredlipstick.wordpress.com
Gray – http://mygrayline.blogspot.com
Veronica: http://anothersuburbanmom.blogspot.com
FG Sakes: http://fgsakes.blogspot.com/
Topaz: http://topaz-gemology.blogspot.com
BDenied: http://cuckold-husband-bdenied.blogspot.com
Salt and Pepper @ http://cellobiscuit.blogspot.com
Ronjazz: www.ronjazz.blogspot.com
Hubman:http://hubmanshangout.wordpress.com
Duchess: http://theduchessissexy.blogspot.com
Petal: http://secretlifeofaslummymummy.blogspot.com/
Autumn http://autumnmistspeaks.blogspot.com
Barefoot Dreaming: http://dreamingbearfoot.blogspot.com

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Posted by Lilly | 19 Comments

Spontaneous

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.

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