Jul 182009
 

022

Before I discovered smut on the internet, I discovered erotic books. I have such a vivid imagination that I can see the scene in my mind as I read; my own private movie. It is something that is a big bonus to my erotic fiction writings. Text and words have always aroused me more than images (usually). My favorite reads for arousal have always been of the short story anthology variety. Everyone’s taste is different so there’s always the inevitable few stories that do nothing for you. The rest of them usually make up for that. But if you enjoy reading my blog and you get off to my written words, then no sextoy shopping trip would be complete without picking up a hot book to take to bed with you. It can be for an indulgent night alone, and it can be used to prime yourself for your partner. Read it aloud, even. Involve them.

There was no doubt in my mind that I wanted to review this book. Caught Looking: Erotic Tales of Voyeurs and Exhibitionists (edited by Alison Tyler and Rachel Kramer Bussel) is a title that is so obviously meant for me. Indeed, many of these stories have aroused me to the core and have given me ideas.

The characters vary widely in this collection of 20 stories. Predominantly hetero with a couple token lesbian stories and a few bisexual females thrown into the mix. Some stories are about characters who are purposely being exhibitionists and some are accidental exhibitionists. There are the tales of shy, lonely late bloomers secretly listening or watching.


I set out to read one evening, settled comfortably into bed with various toys at the ready. Wearing nothing but a bedtime t-shirt I snuggled under the comforter and began. The first story seemed familiar (it is indeed in another anthology I own) but is honestly one of my favorites.

….the second she’d seen the picture window facing the apartment across the alley, her mind had turned to the idea of taking her clothes off in front of it, and the deal was closed.
~Curtain Call, Thomas S. Roche

Our heroine masturbates in front of this window without knowing if anyone is even home in the apartment across the way. And right at the outset, I was wet. Raptly engrossed in my reading, my lips parted and tongue running along the inside of my lower lip, I read and wanted to be her. I’ve done what I could in the arrangement of my apartment but the best was merely an open window and a vocal orgasm. My index finger lazily grazed circles over my hardening clit by the time I neared completion of this story.


…The water streamed over our heads and I drifted on a mist of steam, a storm gathering in the pit of my stomach.I was just starting that smooth glide to a deep come when I heard a thin cry float above Taylor’s labored grunts.
~A Flash of Gold, Radclyffe

This lesbian story in the setting of a college dormitory shower made me want to go back to college – just not the one I went to. The college I attended did not have large multi-shower rooms meant to be shared by the floor. Instead we only shared our shower with the adjoining room. Perhaps an arrangement like the dorm showers in this story would have done little else for me than provide a visual feast for me to furtively watch, but perhaps it would have gotten me my longed-for college girl-on-girl experience. Maybe an invitation to join the couple I would happen upon at 1am, fucking under the stream of water. Surely at least  a few opportunities to listen to labored breathing and moans a stall or two over. All these what-ifs floating in my head, combined with the story, lead me to move from fingers circling my clit to nestling my bullet vibe between my pussy lips and gently buzzing away on my clit.


…Eyes wide, I stared at the car over his shoulder, barely able to make out the man behind the wheel. All I could see was the glow of his cigarette. He didn’t start the car, he didn’t leave. He sat there, watching us. Watching me get fucked.
~The Stars Fell Down, Kristina Wright

An adulterous couple sneaks away from a party and their spouses to meet up in the parking lot of the school where he works. A heated scene in the car leads to desire-fueled sex outside of the car. Suddenly, someone exits the school and watches them. The couple are aware, but are so crazed for each other that they don’t care. Again this is one of those situations where I don’t know who I’d rather be. Her, or the voyeur. After this story I finally laid my book aside to concentrate on getting off. With my bullet vibrator pressed to my clit just so, I climaxed with a long drawn out orgasm.


…Her tits brush against mine, the nipples so hard as they send tingles of sensation through my body. She kisses me again, grinding on top of me. It doesn’t occur to me that other patrons might be watching. I don’t eve really care. The only thing, in that moment, is the feel of the stripper’s body against me and the heat of your eyes on us.
~Couples Welcome, Erica Dumas

I want to go to a strip club. SOON. This story combined a reluctant bi-curious girl paired with a female stripper, and later on sex with her man outside the club. Two hot aspects in one story. I’m not kidding, someone take me to a strip club or two. I had to come again after this story. This time I deftly stroked my g-spot to orgasm with my beloved Pure Wand. I have long harbored fantasies of strip clubs. Being a dancer; watching a friend get up there and get naked for me; getting a private lap dance and “more”; going to a strip club with a female friend, both of us being scantily dressed, getting each other off as we watch the strippers perform and tease; the list goes on and on. As I read this story I was the girl, I was the one getting a lap dance, I was the one getting fucked in the alley.


There are many other good stories in this anthology. There are two with male Dominant / female submissive angles…..those both were a huge turn-on for me at the time I read it but for right now I can’t read them. I get filled with longing and realization I might never have that. There are also a few stories that were duds, to me, but that is a given in any anthology. This book was primarily arousing and should definitely be bought, soon. Before you use a sex toy, you need to be turned on. This, my friends, will do the job over and over again.

Dec 072008
 

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I am face down, modified doggy-style. My forehead presses to the mattress as he roughly fucks me from behind. My ass pointed up, I’m on my knees and my feet are pointing skyward. He uses the heels as handles. He holds them, holding me apart, keeping me stationary – for his use.

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For being as femme as I am, I have a confession:

I don’t wear sexy shoes.

I know I know, it ruined a little bit of the fantasy for ya huh? Yeah…Trust me I really WANT to wear sexy shoes. Really, I do. I have a condition that affects the tendons that run the bottom of my feet, and so being on my feet after a few hours even in the most comfortable shoes renders me in severe pain. Plus my front is wide, my heel is narrow, and my arch is partially fallen. LOL, man I’m a mess huh??

For the NYC-sexblogger party though, I felt this need for sexy shoes. I was in NYC, at a party, with an ass-ton of sexy beautiful women!! Of course I had to have better shoes! I tried and tried, but I just couldn’t pull off heels. I got a great pair but after a mere 15 minutes standing in them at home, I was in agony. Probably because I never wear anything with a heel! But then I found these hot pointy-toed flats that looked amazing. The color is truly perfect for me – glossy deep blood red. The perfect accent color to my mainstay of black clothing. And despite the fact that my feet were still in agony after a few hours and they don’t have a very long lifespan, they made me feel sexier wearing them. I’ve worn them out and about occasionally. Natt sweetly asked for a photo of my hot shoes, and you know I like to comply to such requests ;) I took a half dozen or so and emailed them off prior to this post writing itself.

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You might want to click, see if there’s another vantage point of these shoes…

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I am on my back, legs bent and my shod feet planted on the bed. Legs spread wide open, ready for him to feast. As he lays down on his stomach his hands go to my shoes but he does nothing. Just keeps his hands on the pointy heels. The reason is apparent as I finally reach a screaming orgasm and my legs begin to instinctively close – he has not stopped lavishing me and for the first brief moments it is painfully, exquisitely sensitive. His grip on my shoes helps to keep my legs apart, his access still granted.

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Someone in my recent sexual past waxed poetic one day about his great love for a woman wearing her heels and nothing else in bed during sex. I didn’t get it then.

Now, I do.

It’s like an accessory. With purpose.

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I found some that really get me going…..

…….…….

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Again, I am on my back. But this time my shoes are my power. I plant my foot on his chest, the heel gently pressing into his flesh. He is on his knees and I instruct him to enter me – but just barely. Just the tip of his cock is allowed into my cunt. I slide my foot down a little bit until my heel is pressing into his stomach. Then into his lower abs an inch or two above the base of his cock. I move my pelvis just slightly…..the barest hint of friction to his cock. A whisper more of penetration. My eyes strip him away, my fingers drag over my lips, my breasts, my nipples. The look of sexual torment clouds his features….and he tries to fuck me imperceptibly – but I press the heel of my shoe into his abs. Firmly. The pain keeps him at bay, keeps him motionless as I still say nothing. Finally I drag my foot up, first one then the other until my ankles are resting on his shoulders. I cradle his head with my feet and pull him in to me….and he gasps as his cock finally gets buried to the hilt in silky hot wetness.

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Oct 092008
 

Before his lips ever touched mine, our first sexual contact was his hand firmly wrapped around my throat. Followed by his pelvis pressing to mine, trapping me against the wall. He stared me down until I broke eye contact; slowly but quickly his free hand snaked around behind my head, grabbed a fistful of hair, and forcefully pulled. My head went back just by a bit, as much as the wall allowed; it forced me to look at him again.

My heart was racing, my breathing was labored and my cunt undoubtedly wet. All this and the man hadn’t even kissed me!

But oh, that changed in short order. It was a kiss that claimed me. Consumed me. Owned me. His hand, still around my neck, gripped a little more. His fingers, still tangled in my hair, gripped a little more.

He pulled his lips away and I quietly protested; a whimper, a sigh, a flutter of eyelids closing. If I were not pinned to the wall I would not have been able to remain standing. He yanked my hair yet again and my eyes snapped open. I could now see the change in him; his jaw was tense, his eyes narrowed in lust and power.

He released me from his grip and took a step back. His palm cupped the side of my face and his thumb roughly traced my lips. One word, as a question:

“Whose?”

“Yours, Sir.”

A small half-smile turned up the corner of his lips.

His hand continued down to my breast and he sharply pulled my nipple. He held it there, wordlessly waiting for my answer, before he would let go. A wince and a sharp intake of breathe before I could say, with a tremor in my voice:

“Yours, Sir.”

His hand cupped my cunt, and I repeated. He grabbed my hips, hard, and spun me around to face the wall. To catch my balance I put both hands up, palms pressed against the cool plaster. One cheek against the wall, meaning one ear turned towards him. His hand smacked my ass hard and then slid down the center and under the curve of my cheeks. He pressed into me and growled the question again in my ear; I faltered with my answer but still told him:

“Yours….Sir.”

I felt and then heard a low rumble of a slightly sadistic chuckle from him. He smoothed my hair to the opposite side of my neck, deceptively gentle for all of 5 seconds before he grabbed a handful again at the nape of my neck. His lips assaulted the side of my neck where it meets my collarbone, the spot that makes my knees weak. He turned my head towards him a little more and his lips claimed mine yet again.

Consumed.

Breathless.

All this and we were still fully clothed…

Sep 282008
 

Yesterday while talking to Sage, an exhibitionistic desire was brought to the surface. I have thought about it before, but never had anyone to tell.

Do you recall Madonna’s old video for Open Your Heart? Those of you my age and older will….I won’t embed the video, I don’t want to subject you to watching it if 80’s music videos are not your thing ;)



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I don’t know what reminded me of her video, but Sage and I were talking about my last fantasy piece of the all girl threesome. And what you all would pay to be even just a mere silent witness to that fantasy in the flesh.

Even with the protection of the glass, could I do this? Alone, or with another woman or more? Growing up I played the piano. I took lessons for something like 11 years until I graduated high school. Due to the ADD, I simply slowed down in the learning process as I got older. My ability to focus on doing two separate things at once weakened. My ability to practice at home while other things went on also weakened. But with these lessons in classical piano from a teacher with many students, came the inevitable recitals. Recitals for the students and their families, and judged recitals in the big city. I hated it, I hated being watched as I performed. A piece I could perform in solitude to utter perfection was suddenly marred with split seconds of hesitation, or fumbling trembling fingers would hit extra keys. Later in college, when I would have the urge to play again, I would wait until the student union was nearly closed and was as empty as I could get it. Only then would I shut the door and play. Trying out for stage band in high school was even worse. Once, I humiliated myself into thinking I could sing. Right. The words left me, I couldn’t remember the notes, it all just left and boy did I fuck up royally.

But wait….you’re not judging me, are you…

I tend to forget that men are usually quite simple in their base desires. I don’t mean that in a disrespectful way, and really perhaps women are too.

Perhaps I could start out slow. The booths darkened, the stage dimly lit. Surrounded by toys, distracted by music, I am sure I could soon lose myself to something much farther beyond Madonna’s peep show. Could I get some female companions to join me, could we get off on the combined thrill of each other and being watched? I wonder how long it would take me to discard all clothing?

I want to be watched. I want to slowly lose the dregs of performance and forget you’re all there for the most part. Only realizing that all eyes are glued on me when I feel the first waves of orgasm roll over.

As I am writing this, I have just been informed that I might find this sort of thing and it might be a reality, should I ever visit a swingers club someday….the right swingers club. That is perhaps even more intoxicating. To know there are couples in those booths, watching me, almost certainly fucking each other in some manner. When the lights slowly fade on inside those booths, will I see a beautiful brunette and her partner….naked and sharing a seat? And by sharing I mean that he is sitting in the chair and she is in his lap, straddling him but facing me. As they watch me they are languidly fucking – she moves up down back and forth on his cock; his hands roam her breasts, her belly, her clit. Would this scene cause me to imitate? Using the sole prop on the stage, the chair, and my suction-cup dildo? (I don’t yet own one but this fantasy now, just this very moment, added it to my short list of “need soon” toys) Will I see a sexy man, black hair and eyes boring a hole into me, staring back at me as if challenging me while his partner is on her knees and sucking his cock? Will he make it clear to me that I am the sole target of his concentration and thoughts?

This is an off and on fantasy I have thought about for years, and only now voiced. Consider yourselves…….? Lucky? Informed? Invited?

Sep 252008
 


Imagine a soft tangle of limbs, pillows of flesh, salty and sweet, firm and soft.

This is my greatest desire.

To have two feminine mouths devouring my naked body, floating from cunt and clit to nipples and lips and all in between. To have two writhing moaning wet pussies in the palm of my literal hands.

A daisy chain, if you will, all mouths clamped to all cunts, drowning in the desire. To then swap kisses back and forth, all around, until we each have the taste of three pussies on our tongues.

For now I will not seek a hard cock. For now, I ache to slowly grind my cunt to hers, a slippery slick beautiful mess. A crescendo of movement all softness and hard desire.

Our hands and mouths won’t know where to go as we simultaneously ache for the one we’re touching and the one we want to be touching next.

But I know myself, I know my desire. As feminine as I am, I have the lust quotient of a man. I want to wear a harness and fuck them both. I want to employ toys to compliment my tongue and fingers, I want the power of bringing my two girls to a moaning sticky orgasm as they lay spread out before me…..moaning into each others mouths as I pull the strings. I want to stand them both up at the edge of the bed, hip to hip, bent over presenting two sweet cunts to me. Drive my harnessed cock into them, spank their round asses and drag a finger along their slits.

I want hours upon hours of lusty frenzied female fucking. While I grind my cunt to hers, press my nipples to hers, kiss her lips, while I finger her clit, while I pull and pinch her nipples, while she kisses her breast and she kisses my lips, while we three become one. Yes there is softness but underneath it all is hard fervent lust and we just cannot drink it up fast enough, we cannot consume enough to sate our desires.


This finger (mine) on my clit right now should be hers.
This clit (mine) under my finger right now should be -hers-.
This nipple (mine) that I am pinching right now should be hers.
This finger (mine) that is tracing my lips, that I am sucking on, should be -her- tongue.
This soft skin (mine) that I touch should be hers.
This exquisite orgasm (mine, oh fuck, yessss) I am teetering on the brink of this very moment should be from her.

If you’ll excuse me, I need to stop here, and come. Now.

Sep 192008
 

Recently I had a brief chance to get seriously naughty at work. I took a dare a little farther on my own – quite possibly flashing a crew of construction workers. I say “possibly” because I’m not really sure. IF they looked my way….well my eyesight is not great at a distance so I couldn’t tell. The windows are thick, so I couldn’t hear. Every time one turned my way I had to fight the urge to hastily duck down.

Here I am giving the boys a lovely view (pity you can’t see this from their angle) of suspended full breasts, sunlight hitting my pale skin.


I posed for more photos after this….a view from behind, unobstructed by panties. No, I won’t post those. If any of you recall the very small and grainy spread-ass shot from a few months ago, you have an idea of what the view looks like – but not grainy. Not small.

 

Topless, right next to the window. At one point during the couple of pics I snapped there was a guy right over there on that far ledge. Close enough to make my heart race – I couldn’t look.

I had a fantasy….

Since I was one window from the corner, well, it’s obvious how to find me. I imagined giving them a hell of a way to start the day. With a quick fuck from the office slut.

Perhaps as I was still taking photos I would hear a knock on the glass door, and see 2 construction workers peering into the office which looked closed. I freeze, I’m mostly undressed! Wearing only that skirt you see in the photo…..no panties, either. In a split second decision I run to the door, flip the lock and let them in. I know the door – it’s broken. Whether or not the lock is flipped, people can’t get in from the outside.

“You didn’t think you could tease us over there and not get a visit, did you little girl?”

I can’t speak, I can’t do or say anything – I’m so nervous. I back farther into the office, back into the cubicle in which I was taking those photos of me posing in front of the window.

His voice is low and growling in my ear “Lean over the desk, just like you were. Show those guys over there those big tits again, but this time in action. They’ll see em bounce as my buddy and I fuck you.”

He shoves me forward, I assume the position. My skirt is lifted up, and I know that they are both right next to me, one on each side of my body. Pressing into me. Rough jeans against my skin. Dirty coarse hands running over my body, harshly grasping, tweaking, pulling my hair. One of them runs a hand up under my arm, forcing my arm up in the air, over my head. He brings my forearm back, so that my upper arm is in the air and my wrist is at my neck. He taps my other arm and I mimic. In his one huge hand he grips my wrists together….human bondage. This position makes my breasts even more prominent. My chest pushes forward, my ass pushes back….and meets skin….firm stomach. Cock.

The one who will fuck me first introduces himself to me unceremoniously – one finger runs along my slit, and finds the slippery wetness. Plunging deep in my cunt. One moment later his cock follows, and I cry out. I can not move, nor do I want to. The man holding my wrists in his hand is forcefully pinching and pulling on my nipples, groping each breast in turn. I can see out the window that one at a time, the other workers come to the edge of the construction area and stare in for a moment before returning to work.

I can feel my orgasm slowly approaching as the cock of the man behind me pummels my g-spot….suddenly he is fucking me even rougher and grunts out as he cums. My pleasure here is of no consequence. He backs off, and the other man takes his place. As I become impaled on a second cock, a signal is given to the guys outside. I can hear a knock on the glass door again, and I’m panicking. I try to turn, I am fearful it is a co-worker.

No, it’s another construction worker. Tag teaming me, they are. He taps out the first one who just finished with me. In a daze…..the second man finishes, the third man spins me around and lifts me up onto the desk. His hand on my tits….more pinching, more pulling. His palm on my chest he pushes me to lay down. Any man outside now sees their friend pumping away and my tits bouncing above my face which belies my nervous fear…..the face of sweet sexual torture.


This fantasy brought me to orgasm at lunchtime while I sat in the office, babysitting the phones. People walking by the glass door, in the hallway, on their way to lunch or coming back. Talking, laughing, oblivious. Oblivious to the slut sitting in there, talking to one of her online lovers over IM, moaning as the bullet buzzes her clit to orgasm. Messy orgasm. Oops….!