Okay, everyone out there....how can you not like a blow job or even giving a blow job???????
I am amazed and appalled to find that not every one likes cunnilingus!!! What the fuck!
How can you be opposed to it? It is a basic human right!
And yet.....a girl asks her man if he wants a blow job and instead of jumping up and saying YES PLEASE! he claims a headache and heads to bed early! Again WHAT THE FUCK!
Now, I might like to give head, but I'm not going to beg to do it.....so where does all that sexual tension and energy go????
It goes down to the fitness room of the hotel, where said gal runs her way to release!
Pounding on the treadmill, picturing Mr. Lickable going down on me and giving me the best head of my life is what gets a girl through the night....so while he may be unattainable, he certainly has his uses!
And so I sit here in the lobby of my hotel at almost 1am, fucking hot and horny and all I want is to give some guy a blow job and yet......I have a feeling it's going to be a long, lonely, unfulfilled night.....
FUCK ME PLEASE! Or at least step up and let me give you a blow job!
Showing posts with label deeds. Show all posts
Showing posts with label deeds. Show all posts
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Don't Drink and Dial
I am totally wasted and want him to fuck me up the ass right now, but I am good and while I have thrown up 3 times (make that 6-finally beat my college record of 4), I have not e-mailed him....don't drink and dial if you want to save face...
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Indian Summer Flashback
For it only being a few days before autumn officially begins, today was a hot, dry, sunny day....Indian Summer has arrived! It was a day for blowing off work and going to an amusement park or hanging by the pool. Unfortunately, I did have to work, but looking out the window of my office, I couldn't help but experience a flashback to a summer long ago.....
A warm memory spread through me of my first big crush, the man who gave me my first French kiss....oh la la!
It was a long summer ago, but just like today it was a hot, dry day. I used to hang out at the lake every day in the summer and had a secret lust/crush for one of the lifeguards. He was tall, red-headed, with the cutest freckles on his face. Let's just say that I spent every day hanging out on my towel, jumping in and out of the water, but all the while I had my eye on him hoping for a smile, a wink, anything to let me know that he was interested too.
It was all too obvious that just the sight of him standing on the dock in his Speedo bikini briefs, a whistle around his neck, the sun glinting off the lake accenting the golden highlights in his shaggy red hair made me giddy with desire. His legs were covered in freckles and fur; his calves hard as rocks from all the swimming and standing around he did. Just picturing those legs wrapped around my waist, his arms around me made my body light on fire.
Now, I had a friend who knew I had a huge crush on him and one day she dared me to tell him that I wanted to have sex with him (and BOY DID I). Well, I don't know how I got up the courage, but I did tell him and the next thing I know he was saying "sure". What the hell? I didn't know how to respond to that. We ended up walking around the lake front and talking and basically I chickened out, but with good reason. I was deathly afraid of getting pregnant. It's not something my parents would have accepted and the fact that I was only 13 and he was 7 years older than me (do the math 13+7=20; I said a man not a boy) gave me pause. Not the age difference, I could have cared less. More the I don't want to be in a pregnant, junior high kid, who this guy probably wouldn't stick around to marry. So after talking about the fact that I wasn't on any birth control, somehow Hurricane Hottie simmered down and we settled on a kiss. Who knows maybe he was just humoring me, maybe he didn't want to get arrested for deflowering a minor, whatever the reason the issue was downgraded to something so simple yet still so enticing to a teenager.
The plan was to meet him in the guard shack (where the equipment was kept) on his break and so I waited. I waited and waited till I saw him get up to go on break and head towards the guard shack. It was a little concrete building, 1/2 for equipment, the other 1/2 the women's changing room. I crept up to the building, looked around, then knocked on the door. He let me in.
It was a little dark in the room (no light bulb). Sunlight filtered through the plastic roofing leaving slatted shadows across the concrete floor. Equipment was piled everywhere, sand under foot grinding into the bottoms of my feet. There he was grinning up a storm. We sat down on a wooden bench and I could feel it's cool, rough surface bite into the back of my legs where the top of my bathing suit met my thighs.
He turned to me and smiled broadly. Taking my shoulders in his hands, he asked if I was ready. I nodded, drawing in some breath. As he leaned towards me, I closed my eyes and felt his moist, rough lips meet mine. As I melted into him, I felt something rough brush against my lips.
The next thing I knew, his tongue was darting between my lips and touching my tongue, rolling up and down and around it. I was slightly shocked. No one had ever French kissed me before and this was exciting. I could feel my tongue tingling...all too soon it was over. He pulled back and smiled. I think I was still in shock and awe. A whistle blew and his break was over, the next thing I know he was out the door and I was left there in the shadows and light. My tongue continued to tingle and after a few delicious moments of reliving the memory of the kiss, I was slightly disappointed that it was over so quickly and I wanted more. After a few seconds though, I realized that I would have to leave the guard shack and go back out into the harsh reality, the light of day.
And yet for the next 48 hours all I could think of was him, the kiss, and the fact that my tongue would not stop tingling!
So, today looking out the window at this nice, sunshiny day my mind wandered back in time to that first French kiss and a warm feeling spread through me, I tingled not on my tongue, but in the core of my sex and I knew that if I could go back in time, not only would I do it all over again, but this time I would fuck that cute, Irish lifeguard on the rough, cold concrete floor of that guard shack....age differences and contraception worries be damned.
A warm memory spread through me of my first big crush, the man who gave me my first French kiss....oh la la!
It was a long summer ago, but just like today it was a hot, dry day. I used to hang out at the lake every day in the summer and had a secret lust/crush for one of the lifeguards. He was tall, red-headed, with the cutest freckles on his face. Let's just say that I spent every day hanging out on my towel, jumping in and out of the water, but all the while I had my eye on him hoping for a smile, a wink, anything to let me know that he was interested too.
It was all too obvious that just the sight of him standing on the dock in his Speedo bikini briefs, a whistle around his neck, the sun glinting off the lake accenting the golden highlights in his shaggy red hair made me giddy with desire. His legs were covered in freckles and fur; his calves hard as rocks from all the swimming and standing around he did. Just picturing those legs wrapped around my waist, his arms around me made my body light on fire.
Now, I had a friend who knew I had a huge crush on him and one day she dared me to tell him that I wanted to have sex with him (and BOY DID I). Well, I don't know how I got up the courage, but I did tell him and the next thing I know he was saying "sure". What the hell? I didn't know how to respond to that. We ended up walking around the lake front and talking and basically I chickened out, but with good reason. I was deathly afraid of getting pregnant. It's not something my parents would have accepted and the fact that I was only 13 and he was 7 years older than me (do the math 13+7=20; I said a man not a boy) gave me pause. Not the age difference, I could have cared less. More the I don't want to be in a pregnant, junior high kid, who this guy probably wouldn't stick around to marry. So after talking about the fact that I wasn't on any birth control, somehow Hurricane Hottie simmered down and we settled on a kiss. Who knows maybe he was just humoring me, maybe he didn't want to get arrested for deflowering a minor, whatever the reason the issue was downgraded to something so simple yet still so enticing to a teenager.
The plan was to meet him in the guard shack (where the equipment was kept) on his break and so I waited. I waited and waited till I saw him get up to go on break and head towards the guard shack. It was a little concrete building, 1/2 for equipment, the other 1/2 the women's changing room. I crept up to the building, looked around, then knocked on the door. He let me in.
It was a little dark in the room (no light bulb). Sunlight filtered through the plastic roofing leaving slatted shadows across the concrete floor. Equipment was piled everywhere, sand under foot grinding into the bottoms of my feet. There he was grinning up a storm. We sat down on a wooden bench and I could feel it's cool, rough surface bite into the back of my legs where the top of my bathing suit met my thighs.
He turned to me and smiled broadly. Taking my shoulders in his hands, he asked if I was ready. I nodded, drawing in some breath. As he leaned towards me, I closed my eyes and felt his moist, rough lips meet mine. As I melted into him, I felt something rough brush against my lips.
The next thing I knew, his tongue was darting between my lips and touching my tongue, rolling up and down and around it. I was slightly shocked. No one had ever French kissed me before and this was exciting. I could feel my tongue tingling...all too soon it was over. He pulled back and smiled. I think I was still in shock and awe. A whistle blew and his break was over, the next thing I know he was out the door and I was left there in the shadows and light. My tongue continued to tingle and after a few delicious moments of reliving the memory of the kiss, I was slightly disappointed that it was over so quickly and I wanted more. After a few seconds though, I realized that I would have to leave the guard shack and go back out into the harsh reality, the light of day.
And yet for the next 48 hours all I could think of was him, the kiss, and the fact that my tongue would not stop tingling!
So, today looking out the window at this nice, sunshiny day my mind wandered back in time to that first French kiss and a warm feeling spread through me, I tingled not on my tongue, but in the core of my sex and I knew that if I could go back in time, not only would I do it all over again, but this time I would fuck that cute, Irish lifeguard on the rough, cold concrete floor of that guard shack....age differences and contraception worries be damned.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Erato....
Erato is the Greek muse associated with erotic poetry. She is also my muse for this blog. What is life without poetry? Poetry is a way to express our thoughts, feelings, experiences, sensations. All too often we hide the erotic sides of our lives, pulling a cloak over our true selves in order to blend in with common society. Our thoughts and actions may co-exist, but that doesn't mean that our outward actions express our inner thoughts.
In my thinking, life is a shallow and empty pursuit if it does not allow for some form of poetry (be it spoken, thought, written down, or acted upon) to bring one closer to their true self, the self that is never fully revealed to the outside world for fear of rejection, retribution, or even regret. Situations vary, sometimes we can't open up to others, while other times we don't want to show our true selves to those around us. It is a fine line that must be walked with care. But, there is a point when one wants the world to know her thoughts, words, deeds and not be shunned for being oneself and so I turn to the anonymous world of the Internet to reveal my thoughts and desires without judgement by my peers.
It is here that I choose to reveal my inner most thoughts on love, life, and sexuality....if you want to know more about what makes me tick, what arouses my senses, then please open the book, turn the page, continue to read, but if you are afraid to know the real me, if that is too "intimate" for you, then by all means close this book and seek out another....there are plenty on the shelves.
In my thinking, life is a shallow and empty pursuit if it does not allow for some form of poetry (be it spoken, thought, written down, or acted upon) to bring one closer to their true self, the self that is never fully revealed to the outside world for fear of rejection, retribution, or even regret. Situations vary, sometimes we can't open up to others, while other times we don't want to show our true selves to those around us. It is a fine line that must be walked with care. But, there is a point when one wants the world to know her thoughts, words, deeds and not be shunned for being oneself and so I turn to the anonymous world of the Internet to reveal my thoughts and desires without judgement by my peers.
It is here that I choose to reveal my inner most thoughts on love, life, and sexuality....if you want to know more about what makes me tick, what arouses my senses, then please open the book, turn the page, continue to read, but if you are afraid to know the real me, if that is too "intimate" for you, then by all means close this book and seek out another....there are plenty on the shelves.
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