I had a date tonight.
A real, honest-to-goodness, go-out-in-public date. It's a strange, foreign thing to me in the most normal of circumstances.
This surprises the heck out of me. Sure, I talk big about trying my hand at flirting, but when it comes down to it, I'm much more likely to go to my room and order room service--despite intention.
I chalk it up to being in the strange city. Playing the, "Help, I'm a damsel all alone--so very alone--with a free night/day in a strange city, what should I do with myself?" card a little hard. (But with a deft and light hand, don't get me wrong.)
We joked before the work-event, dry and sarcastic with each other. Flirting. I make him laugh, he makes me laugh, and there's nothing more ...

I watch Zara work Imogen’s quim. She is such a thorough gal, every nook and cranny proffered the kind of zealotry that makes such a partner a gift from Heaven. I watch her lick and suck and nuzzle and I’m drawn to take hold of her left hand and place her fingers inside Imogen, inside and about, twisting those fingers while moving them back and forth as well. Then, even as Zara lavishes attention on Imogen’s hearty bud I take her middle finger and inch it back so that it’s at Imogen’s sphincter, and once there I insist it in, pushing past the puckered entrance, in and in and in until her finger is gone. While Zara protests Imogen begins to writhe in attainment, throwing Zara back at me as she comes.
“Mmm...” I murmur into Zara’s ...

When Emma Jane started to unfasten her blouse herself as soon as we were alone, I knew that she enjoyed having her tits felt as much as I enjoyed feeing them. For some reason, that came as a complete and very pleasant surprise to me. I had always assumed that resistance was hard-wired into a virgin’s psyche. Another surprise was that Emma was unhappy with her breasts. How could she be? To me, they were the most beautiful things I could imagine. But no matter how often I told her this, insisting that anything more than a handful would be wasted, she would often look down at them wistfully and say, “I wish they were bigger for you.” And I would say the equivalent of, “Watch my lips. I love them just the way they are.” Only once do I remember ...

Yesterday, I saw numbers on the scale that I hadn't seen in four years. All the exercise and increase in vegetables finally has paid off.

June 28th, 2008
Our argument still echoed in my head. My emotions still lay raw beneath my skin. My eyes were still sensitive and wet. I struggled to be normal again. Outwardly, we had finally found some semblance of resolve, but inside, I was still distraught and tangled from the fight. My body moved with him, yet my mind trailed behind, still lost somewhere between my insanity and all his words.
We skimmed over foreplay. Had we not been intimate enough already? Brutal honesty forged our bond. We already felt exposed and close.
He was inside me. Simultaneously, I needed it, and I did not want it. I needed the feeling of him, the affection, the sense of normalcy in our sex; but I did not want the closeness when I was so raw, to be ...

Lolita huh? Well, I do know a certain someone who loves it when I braid my hair into pigtails before sex…
You’re Lolita! by Vladimir Nabokov Considered by most to be depraved and immoral, you are obsessed with
sex. What really tantalizes you is that which deviates from societal standards in every
way, though you admit that this probably isn’t the best and you’re not sure what causes
this desire. Nonetheless, you’ve done some pretty nefarious things in your life, and
probably gotten caught for them. The names have been changed, but the problems are real.
Please stay away from children.
Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

Work. work and more work makes Cheri a dull, dull, horny girl!
Spoke to Mr. Porsche today. Actually he called and I couldn't pick up. He left a message Call me....hmm..as if we spoke 10 minutes before not almost a week ago. So I thought about not calling back and then I said....now that's babyish...but I will get ready and then call. And so I was getting ready and an hour later he called again "Okay, playing hard to get are ya! Please call me". I started to giggle....so he knew me so well but not as well as he thought. I was going to call back.
I called him and we talked and I wasn't going to give him a hard time BUT I had to do a dig..."so when you said I'll call ya back last Wednesday, I guess you didn't specify WHICH Wednesday ...

So, I’ve been getting mail. Maybe you’ve been inspired by Belle de Jour/Secret Diary of a Call Girl, or maybe it’s the media surrounding the Ashley/Spitzer spectacle, or maybe it’s Radar’s recent “Secrets of a Hipster Hooker.” You want to be an upscale escort. I’m not going to encourage it and I’m not going to discourage it, and I’m pretty sure it’s a crime if I tell you how to do it. But if you’re going to do it, here’s some advice: 1. Know what you’re getting into. There’s a good chance that it’s harder than you think, so it’s best to go in knowing as much as you can. 2. Don’t drink and don’t do drugs. You need to keep your ...

For the last two weeks I have had this song stuck in my head.
I can bring home the bacon,
Fry it up in a pan,
And never, ever let you forget you're a man.
Cuz I’m a woman.
Enjoli.
It’s a commercial from my youth, back in the 70s. And it told the new story of what a woman should be.
Growing up my mother was a stay-at-home Mom as were the mothers of most of my friends. They were of a generation when that was the expectation. Dads go to work, Moms stay home and take care of the house and the kids. She has dinner waiting on the table and hands him his evening cocktail the minute he walks in the door. Right?
Well perhaps the story was a little more complicated. I am the youngest of four and I was the ...

Lorali and I were joking recently about how the various gifts we give each other all seem to be related to sex and porn. I guess when you’re as obsessed with sex as we are, and when you want to give your lover something that you know will please him/her, it makes the gift-giving a lot simpler. At one point, Lorali said something to the effect that she’d start to worry about me if I ever got her

I was thinking yesterday that what I really wanted was a good, old-fashioned, over-the-knee spanking.
You know the kind I mean. The kind fetishized by endless erotic stories and people who prefer a bit of role play with their sex. The skirt up, knickers down, hit her 'til her bottom's bright red kind of spanking. The grab her by her hair, throw her over your knee, and make her cry kind of spanking. The "you've been a bad little girl and now you're going to make up for it" kind of spanking.
In other words, the utterly-ridiculous "we're over-playing the drama to see who bursts into hysterical laughter first" kind of spanking.
I haven't had a scene like that in ages. I miss making big innocent eyes and ridiculous statements at a top who ...

So I’m eating Thai food in a restaurant with a friend, and I attempt to take the “Who Would You Fuck” game up a notch… Me (out of the blue): If you could impregnate anyone here in the restaurant besides me, who would you pick? Him: I’m fixed. Me (slightly disappointed): Oh.

It's worse on the weekends. The sadness.
I go over and over in my head what happened. Trust me, I know this is not healthy, but it seems to be a part of the healing process right now.
I realized I kept going over and over what happened because I couldn't make sense of it. Now, I know that we can't always make sense of things. Sometimes we just need to accept that situations and people are illogical and don't make sense and just move on. But I was having trouble doing this with RD.
This weekend I reached out. I texted him to say "Hi" and test the waters as to his willingness to talk a little more. Basically he told me he doesn't want to talk, that he has "too much bullshit" on his plate right now. He was nice about it and that didn't ...

Possibly the least insightful name for a posting ever. Might as well write a series of articles on subjects like "Why I Would Be Happy Getting Paid Millions of Dollars" and "The Joys of Hearing Your Kids Say 'I Love You Daddy'". Nobody's ever thought of those topics in a good light!
Nevertheless, I'm gonna talk about why I enjoy getting a blow job. It's of a piece with something I wrote a long time ago called "What It Feels Like" in which I described what sex felt like for me. It's one of the postings I'm proud of because I think it did a good job in using words to describe the sensations of sex. Seemed like it might be a good idea to try the same approach with another sexual activity.
First it would be worth noting that I don't enjoy blow ...

1. Are you truly politically correct? Be honest.
Most of the time.
2. Will you ever streak in public during rush hour?
No
3. Would you ever do something sexual in public (more than 20 people around)?
Yes. I've groped DH in restaurants, theatres, hot springs (nude, at night, who wasn't??)
4. Do you ever not have good table manners?
Absolutely impeccable. One of my pet peeves. I tell my kids that everyone can be a Princess at the table.
5. Do you ever fantasize about a public sexual act? Describe.
Sex on the beach. 'nuf said (sorry still under schedule crunch at work)
Bonus (as in optional): Have you ever gone through a true sexual fantasy? Describe.
Sex on a beach... late enough in the ...

I toyed with the idea of taking a break from SG, just to see what happens at home...then decided, nah, I like things as they are. Why give up both men fucking me on a regular basis? Am I insane? Monday, 8/18, he is still recovering, but "needs his slave" to take care of him...so I go over to see him thinking he's going to be laid back...we'll have some relaxed sex....yeah, not in this fucking

“Shall we start here?”   The first words either of us had spoken, squeezed out between fervid kisses in the empty box of a motel room I had rented.   Nimue nodded “yes” before her half-opened mouth closed in once again on mine.   My hands were under her loose-fitting black top, caressing her smooth skin.  Pulling away from me for a moment, she raised the hem, revealing a lacy black bra.   I lifted the top through her arms, tossing it on the floor, and tightly embraced her.   Kicking off her sandals, she reached for the fly of her shorts.  Unbuttoning, unzipping, dropping them on the coarse carpet as well.   Nude except for the bra, she stood before me, eyes yearning for my touch.   I lifted my shirt from my shoulders and undid ...

Monday, August 11

We were home early, relaxing for the evening. I ask B if she wants to get naked, and that I have a special request. She says "You want me to fuck your ass?" as if she knows there's only one thing I desire lately. I say yes, but let's try the aneros this time. This isn't really her fucking my ass, it's instead regular sex, but with the aneros stuck in my ass. Fun for the whole family.

We get naked. B has the laya (with new batteries!) on her clit, and I have the aneros in my bum. B wants to take it slow, give me time to relax so the aneros can work properly. We lay next to each other, lightly touching our own and each other's bodies. The laya is working on B, and she asks me to take over. She starts talking ...

Dear Babe,
My girlfriend is bringing up a desire to try using vibrators in our activities. I'm OK with this, provided I can find a device which mounts on the back of my hand. While I want her to experience vibration, I want to be the one touching her. Any suggestions?
-Buzz
Dear Buzz,
I did some research for a vibrator that attaches to the back of your hand and I couldn't find anything. Here is a suggestion:
http://www.babeland.com/sexinfo/guest_toy_reviews/orbit-ring-vibrator-review
This way you can be touching your girlfriend, actually inside of her, while she is getting the vibrations. That way you both get what you want.
Another suggestion is to allow your girlfriend to hold a vibrator on her clit, while you ...

So, I have alluded to here and there that the past week and a half has been pretty shite. I won’t go into it - personal stuff and all that - but it’s been emotionally draining. And we’ll leave it at that. What I will say is that a few months ago I bought two tickets to a festival in my locality of the Westcountry in merry old England that both myself and Mister go to each year since it began six years ago. Not to be wasteful of the pennies we had spent, I wanted to still go even though it was so badly timed with everything that’s going on right now. I was in two minds but economic sense, family persuasion, the idea that it would be a good way of escaping and taking time out from the situation and the fact that missing ...

Dear Isabella,
Like most men, I spent my teenage years masturbating in total silence (to avoid getting caught by the parents). I spent my 20's in a college dorm or roommate situation that also required silence at the point of ejaculation. Most of the women I've had sex with have been on the quiet side, so I maintained the silence I'd perfected in my youth.
Now I'm dating a woman who could break glass when she orgasms. I like it. A lot. But she's started to complain about my quietness during sex. Don't get me wrong -- I talk dirty, and I'm good at it. But when it comes time to bust a nut, something happens and I automatically go quiet. I don't think I even grunt.
She's taking this to mean I'm not having a good time, which is not true. ...

Guess who's now Number 1!
Please pose for Playgirl. Please please please...