Thursday, April 29, 2010

Trade-offs

The good news is, UTI soundly defeated.  I no longer feel like my bladder is merely a dimensional conduit to Hell, and Hell is using it to dispose of a lot of acid.  I'll spare the gory details, but it was mild.

The bad news is that I have more antibiotics left to take, and they're turning my other lower orifice into a dimensional conduit to someplace worse than Hell.  I don't know where it is, but it's unpleasant.  That's what happens when I seek out medical treatment: exchange.  I've traded one tract for another.  I wonder whether the UTI would have worked itself out naturally in less time than it'll take me to work through these stupid sick pills.

The best part of antibiotics and me is that I don't like yogurt.  Sure, I like it as a condiment on Indian and Greek things among others, but plain, it's not good.  And I don't mean "plain" as in "plain yogurt," but rather as in "without accompaniment."  I've tried everything.  Chocolate yogurt, frozen yogurt, yogurt cheese with natural culture, blah blah blah.  I'm too poor to try some things, particularly because yogurt helps, but not miraculously.

So I'm suffering through the sickness, the cure, the sickness brought on by the cure, and the amelioration of the second sickness, which makes me a little sick in and of itself.  I hate antibiotics.

I know, you all were just dying to hear all about my medical problems.

The good thing about this is that while sickness tends to make me less willing to go in for acrobatics and energetic sex, I'm not in a position to have to turn down anal anyway, so there's that.  And since the other club is open for business, I can have good old fashioned lovin' whenever I need it (note that I didn't say "want" there because I want it more often than it can be provided).  We're avoiding oral on me simply because I don't want Dad to get any bacteria he shouldn't, even if we're being clean.  And I only suck his cock beforehand, if at all, for the same reasons.  It's a cramp in our style, sure, but penetration and creampies are still available, and the tenderness has been really nice.  I've gotten missionary every day.

Dad actually kind of woke me up with sex today.  I say "kind of" because I wasn't really asleep, I was half awake.  Didn't sleep well last night.  But he came into my room and sat down on my bed and moved the hair out of my face and gave me a smile.  He wasn't really trying to start anything at all, just saying, "Hey, hope you feel better."  Then he gave me a kiss, which I returned and also stretched out my hand from under the covers and gave him a stroke.

Pretty soon he was lying next to me, and after a bit of struggle to get the sheets out of the way, he started slowly kissing and licking my breasts, while his hand stroked tenderly up and down my flanks, gently over the belly because he knows my tummy is upset.  My nipples got super hard and I begged him to get something inside me, quick.  I was definitely feeling the ache to be filled, which is a strange feeling because half of me wants nothing inside it, and part of me is desperate to be filled up completely.  I have split tract disorder.

He eased his way around on top of me, his hips spreading my legs slightly, his cock dropping slightly to point the way.  He can't lie on top of me; too much pressure, which means I miss out on some things I like about missionary, but we can kiss with our eyes.  Our pupils locked as he entered me, slowly, gently, then just pressed all the way in and stayed there, let me get used to the idea.  It was kind of like I was still new to this, which, needless to say, made me feel sexy as all get out.  I don't know why, but I do enjoy innocence, and I get to feel like a little girl with Daddy sometimes, and I love that.

I whimpered when he pulled out, then giggled when he pressed in, and I imagine it was all he could do not to grab my hips and go to town.  Instead, we moved slowly, my insides settling a little, allowing me to participate more.  I know that Dad takes a bit more to get off than some guys, so if he's a bit hamstrung by the situation, I do my best to help out.  I wrapped me legs around him, pulled him down to me a little, ignored the little pangs of discomfort from my stomach, tried to get into the sex.  When I came, that helped a lot, kind of pushed the other sensations to the side, and I came again quite quickly after the first one.

He seemed to sense that I was up for a bit more, so he got a bit more firm, a bit more urgent, until finally it was almost like normal.  We disconnected for a moment to put a pillow under me, get me up a bit higher, and then he supported himself with his arms at either side of me, and we kissed as he pressed himself back into me, again and again, until I was cumming again.  The final tension of my orgasm must have been enough, because he pulled up a little, gripped my hips, and pressed fast into me two or three times, then pressed deep and filled me with cream.

He rolled off almost immediately after he stopped releasing his seed, lay back next to me, then put his arm around my shoulder and we sat there and savored the afterglow, his cock softening, covered in juice, my cunt dripping with cum.  It may not be as often as I'd like, but it's too good to complain about lack of quantity.  Although talking about it right now has made me really wish I were feeling better and could get fucked properly again.  I'm so bad about getting myself wound up for no reason.

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Elelator Go Down the Hole

Ebony Panther's recent post reminded me of some elevator-related stories of my own.  The thing is, I've never lived anywhere where elevators are a common thing.  I don't do cities, really; not my scene at all.  Basically, the times I've been in elevators can all be boiled down to two essential lobes of the same story: hotels, and college.

You may be thinking to yourself, "College?"  No, our dorms didn't have elevators.  The place I lived in only had two stories.  Very low-tech.  Of course, Mike's college has lots of elevators, so maybe you weren't thinking, "College?" but rather, "Of course, college, duh."  My college only had one elevator, and it was a freight elevator that went from the ground floor to the top floor of the theater building.  One was only supposed to use it to carry freight.  I won't deny that it was used for other things.

At a certain point, I had keys to everywhere, and I could be in the building at 5 in the morning and no one would notice.  I was often alone in the theater.  Had some good times hanging out backstage too, but I'll try to remember to tell those a different time, because I'm actually getting ahead of myself.

The first time I did anything naughty in an elevator was when the family was staying a hotel somewhere, I forget where, and I honestly forget why.  It was a nicer hotel than we normally booked for some reason, had many floors, and so there was an elevator.  Several, actually.

Now, Mike and I always viewed hotels as a challenge.  When we were young, we'd jump on the beds, something verboten in our own house.  After we were able, we'd try to mess up the beds in other ways.  Looking back on it, it was pretty horrible; we're the people who left those stains they show on CSI.  But at the time, we enjoyed not having to worry about cleaning things up.  I guess we're not alone in our use of hotels for that purpose.

This hotel had a swimming pool, and since Mike and I both love to swim, we used the hell out of that pool.  I don't remember either Sheri or Mari being there, which is why they aren't in this story.  Sorry gals.  Anyway, the pool was too public to try anything in, which just made it harder to keep off each other.  We'd sneak gropes underwater, wrestle, all those sorts of things, and by the time we were finished we were both raring to go.  If it had been a secluded pool, we would have been naked and just fucked, but as it wasn't, we decided to head back upstairs.

It was late, very late, because Mike and I were both night owls, and the pool was open 24/7.  And our room was on a high floor.  No one was around; I don't even know if the night clerk was around.  We were all set to ride the elevator as quickly as possible up to our room so we could get out of our bathing suits and into each other.  No one on the elevator either.  And I think we both had the same idea at the same time.  It was one of those moments where you both look at one another and grin and know you're thinking the same thing.

Mike hit the door-close button, then hit the top floor.  Then he pulled the waist of his trunks down, and out bobbed his cock.  Unfortunately for us, there were signs posted which said that stopping the elevator was illegal and would sound an alarm and so on, and maybe it was true.  At least the elevator moved slowly, and there were a fair number of floors.  We rode up to the top of the building in style, me on my knees sucking his cock, him manning the buttons.  When we hit the top floor, he let the doors open a fraction, then punched the door close button, hit the first floor button again, and said, "I bet we can get off by the time it gets back down."

It didn't work out that way.  I hopped up and leaned in next to the button panel, he got behind me, slipped my bottoms out of the way, and slipped his cock up into me in a rush.  I came before we hit the first floor again, was still cumming a little when Mike pulled out, adjusted himself, and waited for the door to open a fraction, then closed it and pressed the top floor button again.  Up we went (I wonder what security thought; probably joyriding kids, which wasn't far from the truth), his cock slipped back into me, and he was on the verge of cumming when we hit the top floor.  So on the verge, in fact, that the doors opened on the top floor and neither of us cared to close them until they went by themselves.  I wonder if we would have stopped if someone had been there.  Possibly not.

We let the car sit there while we finished up, then rode down to our floor, hopped out, raced back to the room, and had a second, very nice helping of blowing off steam.  The whole thing had invigorated us.  Later, we talked about maybe going out late at night and pressing all the buttons, just fucking on each floor, risking being seen by someone.  We never did that, which is too bad in a way.

So then, later, I went to college, and there was the elevator, and I had access to it whenever I wanted, and I remembered having had so much fun in the elevator.  Not that I couldn't have fun in other places, but the elevator seemed naughtier than most of them somehow.  It really wasn't; late at night, only me in the building, I could stop the elevator mid-floor and it was like a closet with a lock on it.  Still, I took advantage of my position of privilege, which is okay because I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one.

The time I recall in particular was a booty call, in fact.  I had seen this guy, off and on, for a while, nothing serious, just both of us looking for the occasional fuck.  And we both enjoyed sightseeing (for that, read "fucking in various places around campus"); we'd fucked in all sorts of out-of-the-way places.  He was a musician, so he could get us into the recording studio, and I was in the theatre, so I could get us into the theater building.  One night, I was walking by the elevator on my way home from working late; the place wasn't totally deserted, but close.  I saw the door to the elevator and felt naughty, so I hopped in even though I didn't need to use it, pressed the button, and on the ride up remembered past elevator escapades to the point that I got my hand down my pants and was stroking when the elevator reached the first floor (there were only three: basement, first, second).  Fortunately no one was there, and the door wasn't the kind that automatically opened anyway.  I sat in the elevator, creamed my panties, then wanted more, and was almost set to rush home and see if Gwen was around when I thought of my sightseeing friend.  I went and grabbed the phone, gave him a call, hoping against hope, and thank God, he picked up right away.

It was the work of a moment to tell him to get his ass over to the theater and meet me by the elevator.  I don't think he knew what was up, but he knew sex was in the offing, so he rushed over.  I pointed to the elevator, practically dragged him in, sent it down, hit stop, and then said, "Get naked, now," or words to that effect, and started shucking my own clothes.  It's testament to his willingness that he didn't bat an eye.

The floor was dirty, so we could only fuck standing up.  He took me from behind, hard and fast, just like I needed, but we got tired of that position, so I let him slip out of me, pressed the Go button, ignored his questions, and we rode down to the basement.  I hopped out, naked and glistening with sweat, took a look around, then ran giggling over to the prop closet, grabbed a blanket, then ran back to the elevator while he was still standing there looking shocked.  I spread it out on the floor, closed the door, pressed the button, stopped us, then lay back and spread my legs.

If I had been him and not really known that I was the only person in the basement, I might have looked like him for a few minutes too.  He had this gape to his eyes, even after he recovered himself enough to get down and stick it in again.  I credit that eye-gape with making him last longer; nothing like a good brain-fuck to take the edge off a guy.  No, only kidding; I'm not that cruel.  I didn't expect him to be quite so surprised.  Still, he got back into it, and a few minutes later splashed a giant load into me.  We lay there for a while, both trying to figure out if it was worth the discomfort to go again, but eventually we pulled enough clothes on to be decent, put the blanket back in storage (I didn't even check for stains, naughty me) and by silent agreement went to find someplace more upholstered.

I haven't had elevator sex since I left college, which is too bad, because it really is naughty.  Not comfortable necessarily, but naughty.  But then I haven't been in an elevator with someone who would be open to that in forever either.  My current elevator fantasy is to pick up a stranger on the elevator, but I doubt I'd have the balls for that.  Still, I can think about it.  I'd love to take Sveta on an elevator, get my head up under her dress and eat her out while riding up or down.  I'd really love to be a sexy elevator operator, riding up and down, giving rides to my passengers.  Now that's a sexy fantasy.  Never seen that in porn.  The bellhop-type uniform lends itself to sexy too.  I bet there's Japanese porn of this; they still have elevator operators, I think.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

TMI Sexual Healing

This one, aside from one somewhat doofy question, is pretty good. Maybe there's hope for the universe yet.

1. Name one thing that turns you on with unprecedented success.

"[W]ith unprecedented success?" To quote Inigo Montoya (no, not that quote, this one), "I do not think that word means what you think it means." I think a better phrasing of the question might simply be, "Name one thing that turns you on really well." Or perhaps, "better than anything else." But "unprecedented success?" I thought for a while it might be a reference to the lyrics of "Sexual Healing," but it isn't. I checked. So it's just an odd way of saying it, and it doesn't quite mean what they want it to mean.

Be that as it may, I'm turned on by a lot of things, and it's tough to pick the Big #1. Plus, I imagine that changes depending on how I'm feeling that day. But in terms of something which is always successful at turning me on, even if it doesn't turn me on the most I've ever been turned on (Ol' Reliable, in other words), I'd have to say that there's a particular move that always gets me going. If you're kissing me and you slide your hand down my back to rest just above my ass, on the small of my back, and pull me into you like that, I tend to melt. Even if I'm not interested, even if I'm busy doing something else, a long, slow kiss with a hand on my back pressing me in... yeah, I'm getting a little worked up just thinking about it. That's not to say that I always respond, or that it will magically make me fuck anyone, or that it's necessarily easy to get me into that position in the first place, but it tends to work.

Mike knows all about this. He used to drive me crazy with it; he'd want me, I would be busy doing something else or just not be in the mood, and he'd "convince" me by employing "the move." It got so I would get worked up trying to avoid "the move," which of course made avoiding "the move" pointless anyway.

I confess, it's more a thing that guys can do to me than gals. With a girl, I feel less submissive, usually. Also, if I'm already kissing someone, chances are good that I'm not in a mental space where I'm going to turn down sex. But it does turn me on. Lots of things do, but that works on me pretty much no matter what.

2. Quick! Look around you and name 3 ordinary items that could be used sexually.

Um... I guess if I didn't have any dildos, I could use a Sharpie. And I could sit on the scanner and use it to send full-color scans of my pussy, which would be long-distance sexual. Do batteries that I could stick in various sex toys count? I mean, they're mundane, and I can use them sexually, even if I have to use them to power something not mundane. I mean, a computer's pretty ordinary, but I'm using it to type a sexual blog. Wow, I never thought I'd be this unimaginative. I guess if you're not desperate, you don't have to be inventive as much.

3. Do you consider sex good even if you don't orgasm?

Terrible as this is to say, no. I cum so easily that if I'm not cumming, it's either not sex or it's bad. There are a few caveats to that. Sometimes, very rarely, I get anal and don't cum, but I enjoy the anal. Still, I want to cum after the anal is done, so if he finishes up and I still haven't cum, usually a few moments with fingers and joy buzzers are all I need.

By the same token, I don't consider sex good just because I orgasm. I've cum during really bad sex. Like I said, I cum easy. Guys shouldn't take it as a badge of honor to have made me go off. The ones that do usually are the perpetrators of bad sex. Of course, there's cumming and there's cumming, and if I have a capital O with exclamation points, it's hard to judge the sex poorly.

4. If you could be the opposite sex for one day, what sexual position or act would you like to experience from the other side?

This may be boring as hell, but really, I'd like to experience penetration from the other side of the fence. I know how it feels when a cock penetrates me, but I'd love to know how I make a cock feel when it penetrates me. But if you think I'm just going to stop at penetration if I have a whole day to be a guy, think again. I'm going to try out as many different things as I can. I only hope my stamina's up to it.

5.Describe a sexual fantasy in 10 words or less.

"Anonymous group sex, possibly including a glory hole." Eight words. It's a fantasy I could never bring myself to do in reality, because despite my adventurous nature, I'm a bit of a wuss and I could see that leaving me with diseases by the truckload. But it's something I fantasize about. I have others, some of them not blog-appropriate.

Bonus (optional): Pretend you're a doctor and a patient has come in with an "ache". What is your course of "treatment"?

That entirely depends. If I'm an OBGYN, I would definitely have to kiss it better. In tough cases, a hot rubber injection might be advisable, or even a deep massage. If I'm a urologist, I might have to take a sample, possibly perform some kind of stress test. I'm a doctor of the old school; physical examination is the best way to treat any problem, and I don't trust labs to test samples. There's no ache that can't be cured with a little attention. And if I'm a proctologist, I am going to have some fun.

Monday, April 26, 2010

Major Boobage

So I found out about this too late to go out and do anything about it, but it might not be too late for some people.

Boobquake 2010

Basically, fuck Iranian hardliners who think that women's breasts cause earthquakes.  I'd recommend reading about it from the source.

I went out, bleary-eyed and unhappy, to the doctor's office this forenoon, but while I didn't dress in a burqa, it was rainy so I didn't exactly dress in my sluttiest top, and the girls didn't get shown off as much as I would have had I been informed of Boobquake beforehand.  However, after I came home and read about it, in order to give God a good show, I went out in the backyard, in the rain, totally naked, and waggled my rear at the heavens until it got too cold and wet.  If I were harder-core, that might have taken longer, but as it was, I'd say God got maybe 30 seconds of my ass in His face.

Now, I'm of the belief that whatever divinity there is probably enjoyed the hell out of that, but if the wacko fundies (and I'm not just including Muslim wacko fundies in this, because the Christian world has more than its share of people who've said similarly stupid things) are right, then my area should be heading for some kind of natural disaster.  In which case, I'm sorry.  It's a legitimate scientific experiment.

If you want to see funny comics and you're not already reading both of these (in which case, why aren't you already reading both of these?), Girls with Slingshots and Something Positive are both my original sources for this announcement.  And if God is reading this and He'd like to see more, I'm naked right now, so just look in.

Oh, and if I were in charge, this would have been called Fuck-Quake 2010 because it wouldn't have been boobs on display, but rather public sex.  I guess you can add that to my list of fiats.

Less Annoying

So it turns out that I just can't have sex.  Until I get this taken care of first thing tomorrow, that is.  And probably a bit after that, because I don't expect miracles from antibiotics.  Actually, I hate antibiotics, because they always make me sicker than I was before I took them, just in a different place.  If I have an infection, I take the pills and get a stomach ache.  I won't go into graphic detail, but suffice to say that I am not a happy camper.

Off topic.  Now, back to the main thrust, as it were.  So sex is off.  Which sucks, because I enjoy sex a little, as I may have mentioned.  But orgasms are back on the menu, thank God.

I couldn't stand it yesterday.  I was pissy and moody and being a bitch and life was just not going well, pretty much all my fault I'm afraid.  There was definite familial tension.  Now I don't want you to think that our family is only happy when we get to fuck.  Far from it.  But it certainly improves our lives if we can.  Everyone was just in a pissy mood.  No real reason.

So I retreated to my sanctum and watched a movie, only to discover that everything in the fucking movie was driving me crazy.  Ordinarily, not a terribly sexy movie, but it was sexy as Hell at the time.  So I gave up.  Off went the panties, down went the fingers, and the orgasm followed shortly thereafter, and to my surprise and chagrin, felt just fine.  So no penetration for me, but orgasms are okay.  I wish someone would have let me know.

Here's hoping it's a short wait until I can go back to getting the hot injections I so sorely need.  Yes, without sex, I get kind of dirty.  I've been driving Dad crazy.  I just thank God Sveta wasn't here to catch it too.  That's all she needs.

Saturday, April 24, 2010

Annoying

I awoke this morning feeling decent.  Didn't have anywhere much to go, for a change.  Didn't have anything much to do, not that I enjoy that particularly, but still.  Up fairly early.  On a weekend, so Dad and I could have some fun in the bathtub, some extended fun, fun of the type that I don't get often enough.

I had to piss like a fiend, went in, did my business, then went and woke Dad up with my lips on his cock.  I'll never be able to make him cum in his sleep; he's too hard to get off, plus he sleeps fairly lightly.  But he's remarked that he'd rather not miss cumming with me by being asleep, and that waking up with a pretty girl wrapped around his cock in one way or another is the best way to wake up, so I don't mind that I can't.  I used to mind a little; it was like a challenge to me.  I could get Mike to cum in his sleep, which would wake him up, but I've never been able to get Dad to wake up cumming.

Ah well.  No biggie.  We let Mom sleep some more, headed into the bathroom.  I felt oddly like I had to piss again.  Probably just hadn't drained completely, or broken the seal, or whatever the fuck it was my mind was thinking at that point.  I made Dad get the shower heated up while I peed again.  I ignored the minor sensation of discomfort.  There was fucking afoot and I wasn't about to miss it.

The warm water felt great, Dad's cock sliding into me felt great, everything was great until about three strokes in when I suddenly felt like I had to piss again, and then to top it all off, I came on the fourth stroke, and instead of feeling bliss steal over me, I felt burning.  Ouch.

That settled it.  "Daddy, I'm going to have to finish you in my mouth because it hurts to cum," I said, a bit petulantly I'll admit.  He was concerned, like any good father should be, but I convinced him that it was okay and gave him the best blowjob I could muster.  Eventually he came down my throat, which felt nice, then we washed up.

So I'm fairly certain I have a UTI, or bladder infection as they used to call it before everyone got all Gray's Anatomy.  It really isn't a big deal; I'll go to the doctor Monday, get it checked out, get a prescription, and wipe it out.  But it's a pain because it really does hurt a bit to cum.  I don't know why; that's not always the case.  But today, cumming is hard.  So is peeing, and I have to do that like a racehorse, constantly.  Maybe too much information there?  Trying to keep the ol' bladder empty and happy and at the same time having to drink a lot of fluids is like bailing out the Titanic with a thimble; you never gain any ground.  But it's what I must do.

Then, I had to switch browsers because I was sick and tired of my current browser's shit.  Please don't give me recommendations; I can't explain why, but suffice to say that I'm on a new browser and not totally happy with it.  Some of that is having to switch, some of it is features I miss, and some of it is that no browser is perfect.  But it was heaping insult on injury.

All I can say is thank goodness I didn't have to go to work today.  But damn if it isn't incredibly hard not to spend a little quality time.  I need to cum like nobody's business.  Don't worry though; it's a hazard of life, I guess, and one which isn't tough to deal with.  I'll survive the imposed exile from my girly bits.

Amateur Film Festival

Not really. I just had some shorter amateur videos that I thought were good enough to share.

http://www.xvideos.com/video79895/homemade_tape

http://www.xvideos.com/video369016/amateur_teen_couple

http://www.xvideos.com/video349350/sweet_college_babe_gets_it_doggy_style

I offer these with the general comment that there's something wonderfully self-conscious about actual amateur porn. Sometimes professional porn, or at least porn by people who are trying to make money, attempts to duplicate the feeling, but it's hard to fake. You can put the camera on a tripod or hold it in your hand, you can pretend to pick up the woman at a bus stop, you can even make the production values really bad, but there's something about a college kid taping himself and his girlfriend while fucking which can't be imitated. They both snatch glances of the camera, or awkwardly reposition themselves to show off something, or they smile and blush for no apparent reason, their eyes meet and they wonder if this was a good idea... yeah, I can read probably more into it than there actually is, but I still enjoy it.

That's not to say that I don't like purely naturalistic amateur porn, two (or more) people fucking away without a care in the world. But a lot of that is fake. Still, if it's faked well, it can be just as good as the real thing.

Thursday, April 22, 2010

All Hail Me

Sammy wants to know what I would do if I were in charge, and I'm feeling pretty goofy, so even though I bet it wasn't a legitimate question, I'm going to answer it anyway. Presented, in no particular order:

  1. GLBTQ rights are very high on my list.
  2. Incest legalized.
  3. Chocolate declared best food ever.
  4. A harem. Applications are on my desk. Any and all sexual persuasions may apply.
  5. Meaningful health care reform, by which I mean free contraceptives and prophylactics for all.
  6. All holidays to be celebrated Bacchanalia-style.

Those are all pretty obvious, really.

  1. You might think I might say nudity would be the rule of the day. In fact, I like clothing as a concept, and there are many places where clothing should be worn and many people who probably should wear it. But a relaxing of restrictions on clothing is definitely in the cards. If the only reason you're wearing clothes is because it's proper to do so, you can take them off if you want. Note that, by "in charge" I mean, "with absolute power," so I can make it so that people aren't offended by nudity. I have that kind of power. Stay on my good side or I'll turn you into a sex toy. Wait, that should have been an "and."
  2. Chipotle peppers go back to being the novelty and interesting food item they were before someone decided that everything should have fucking chipotles in them. Ditto for lime. I love them both, but not everything needs them.
  3. My official court garments will be saffron robes. I would kill for a beautiful saffron robe in silk.
  4. No more war. Differences to be settled by Olympic Games.
  5. The Olympics will be retooled and include nothing but sexual events. A detailed list will have to wait on me coming up with one.
  6. Cell phones are to be banned within a floating 100 yard radius of me. If you want me, send a telegram.
  7. Everyone will observe at least one hour of disconnected time per day, wherein they can't make phone calls, text, chat, email, or otherwise be involved with long-distance connections. Gradually, I hope people will learn to actually communicate with one another again.
  8. Sex is a terrific way to make communication fun. That's not a change, just a public-service announcement.
  9. No more sequels, remakes, or conversions from one medium to another will be allowed out of Hollywood. That might prevent a few good movies, but that's a small sacrifice to make. Come up with your own damned ideas, Hollywood.
  10. Ridiculous nostalgia is out. If you genuinely liked something the first time around and you still have that thing, you may continue to like it. If you never experienced it the first time, and you experience it and like it, you may continue to like it. If, however, you didn't like it the first time, or you didn't experience it the first time, and the only reason you like it now is because it makes you feel "young," and you fulfill this by having a new version of it instead of the original, or buying, at a ridiculous price, an original that wasn't original to you, I will bop you on the head with my scepter until you see the light.
  11. My scepter will make a squeaky sound when I bop people on the head with it.
  12. I have controversial ideas on the subject of wealth and the redistribution of it, which I will keep to myself for now. I am most certainly not currently steepling my fingers and laughing maniacally.
  13. No more karaoke.

There are probably more. But I'm not making an ongoing series of this, because it would get boring and rapidly veer away from the central thesis of this blog, which is basically sexual. It might seem like all I ever think about is sex, but really, I have a hell of a time sometimes censoring myself so I don't start talking about other things. I have opinions and ideas outside of sex, believe me. But I keep them separate. No need to muddy the waters any more than this list already has.

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Commando Catholic Church

The TMI today made me think of commando stories and I remembered some things which I wanted to post, because while my life currently may be waxing a bit mundane, I still have stories from the past, and I mustn't forget that.

I used to go commando in my Catholic schoolgirl uniform all the time. Those skirts are made for going commando, and you add in the thigh-high tights and you've got just about the greatest image ever. My brother certainly enjoyed it, and I'm pretty sure Dad did too, plus any other recipients of my sexual largess. Anyway, I always tried to go commando on Mass days, because I liked sitting bare-ass on the pews. Made me feel incredibly naughty, usually left some wet spots, kept me interested during long, boring Masses. I am going to Hell if the Catholics are right, because while I may never have actually had sex in the church itself, I've cum during Mass. It's not easy to accomplish, but I did it on several occasions.

Since I'm not a screamer and I can have varying levels of orgasm, a small flush and a few short breaths followed by a sigh of contentment isn't really all that noticeable. It helped that the teachers kept us spread out in the pews to make sure we weren't doing anything. There were feet of space between students.

Now, ideally, I could have sat next to a guy and tempted him from a distance during church, which would have been further proof that I am an unholy succubus. But we sat boys on one side of the aisle, girls on the other, and there weren't too many lesbians at the school I could tempt, unfortunately. But still, I could get up on the kneeler, leave my hands down below the pew, and tease myself. I had to be fairly circumspect while doing it, and ordinarily it would have been impossible, but there was something about the risk and the basic naughtiness that made it fairly easy.

Then, when we sat back down, I'd flip the back of my skirt up, just a little, so I'd be sitting with my cunt against the bare wood. Sometimes the texture would be enough, sometimes I had to shift around a little, but I could usually manage to go in peace before I went in peace (that's a Catholic Mass joke; don't worry if you don't get it).

Now you may argue, and perhaps rightly, that there's no reason I couldn't have gotten myself off while wearing panties. And that's true. I'm not above masturbating through panties. I do it fairly regularly, because I enjoy it sometimes. But in this case, there was something about being bare and sitting on the pew... I guess it's just my basic lack of respect for religion. I don't have anything against it, really, but I'm not Catholic and I kind of resented being forced to go to church when I was younger.

The annoying thing about my little mea culpas (that's another Catholic joke) was that they would just get me wound up. Then I'd spend the rest of the day dying for a fuck of some sort or other. Mike and Dad usually reaped the whirlwind on that once I got home, although occasionally I got other outlets. For instance, the guy with whom I got lucky in the back of the bus once got head out of me after church, which would have been difficult to pull off except we both had a study hall the next period. We just showed up a few minutes late, and the teacher didn't ask questions because she was nice. I think she may have suspected some kind of hanky-panky, or maybe she figured like usual that I was late because I'd been having a cigarette somewhere. Yes, I smoked when I was a yoot. Not often at school, but I'd take the opportunity if I had a rough day. Anyway, she wouldn't have been wrong; I gave head and then smoked and wished I'd gotten penetration. She was young, not particularly devout, and a good teacher who let us have a fair degree of liberty anyway. I took full advantage of that liberty on several occasions.

That, in turn, started a small tradition: I had found the perfect spot behind the church where no one ever went and which was out of sight of everything, so at the end of the day if I wanted some, I'd take my partner, sometimes Mike but often others, there and we'd fornicate, in the parlance of the building behind which we were doing it. I say small tradition because it didn't happen often. I say sometimes Mike because usually I wanted to go home and do it there with him. It was usually with other guys I couldn't really bring home, or didn't want to. There was a wall with no windows and a row of bushes and a tree, and we'd fuck up against the wall. The uniform made it incredibly easy to do; just flip up the skirt, unzip the pants, and go to town.

All of that was set-up for my most embarrassing commando story. As I said, I would flip up the back of my skirt when I sat back down, just a little. I guess one day I flipped a little too hard, and there was a teacher there to see. After mass, she called me aside and said that she wasn't interested in being embarrassing to the church, so she'd overlook it this time, but if I ever did what I was doing again, she'd make my life miserable. Not in those words, but that was the implication. I thought she meant she'd caught me diddling myself in church, and it was one of those moments when I really wished God would smite me just so I wouldn't have to live with the embarrassment of the moment. I tried to explain, to lie, let's face it, but she wasn't having any of it, and she said, "Besides, think if the boys had seen. Good Catholic girls don't show off their flesh in church." At which point, I realized she'd just seen me flipping up my skirt. She gave me a lecture about modesty and how good Catholic girls wear modesty shorts under their skirts, and it was all fairly awkward, but it wasn't as bad as I'd originally thought. It did scare me straight for a few church visits, which were the most boring church visits ever.

But with some distance between me and the event in question, I've had some thoughts. For one, if the boys had seen, I would have been perfectly okay with that. Nothing wrong with advertising in the church bulletin, as it were. For another, I'm not a good Catholic girl. I never have been. There are a few doubts in my mind as to whether I'm a good anything girl. But I'm not Catholic. Sure, I suppose refined young ladies of any stripe don't show off the goods, let alone pleasure themselves surreptitiously, in church. Me, I wish I'd been able to pull off having sex in church, either during the service or afterward, even in the confessional. Talk about hot. Yes, my upbringing has warped me slightly.

Now, all joking aside, let's just consider the point that good girls are supposed to wear shorts under their Catholic schoolgirl skirts. I was never one, but some girls didn't like the skirts at all, and unless they were forced to do so, they wore pants. But even they had to wear the skirts on Mass days. We all know Catholic schoolgirl outfits aren't exactly the purest things ever, and not just because their purity has been corrupted. I mean, the skirts are short, the stockings draw the eye... yeah, there's a certain element of purity corrupted there, but that's not all there is. Do Catholic schoolboys have to wear hotpants?

The admission that good girls should wear something to keep from being revealing underneath the uniform suggests to me that the uniform is revealing. And Catholic schoolgirls don't choose to wear this uniform. So the school is making girls wear revealing clothing, then expecting them to cover themselves up voluntarily. I call bullshit on that. Further proof that repressed sexuality will get you in the end, no matter what.

Anyway, after a few weeks, the embarrassment reduced, and I got really bored again, so I was just more careful from then on. I'm proud to say that, at the graduation ceremonies (which were held in the church, with a long Mass included) I wore no panties under my robes. I had to wear clothes under the robe, but no panties. The robe made it impossible to leave one last butt print on the pew, but I was doing it in spirit.

As an editorial addendum, I have nothing against Catholics, and have grown out of my rebellious stage, so I hope I'm not offending anyone (well, anyone I'm not already offending with my lifestyle). And I know that Catholic schoolgirl uniforms have skirts which are longer than miniskirts, and that a certain portion of the blame must be parceled out to us schoolgirls who went out of our ways to roll up said skirts so they'd be thigh-high. Got in trouble for that on more than one occasion. I just never understood why they were skirts and not either dresses or pants. And I always felt really sorry for the girls who had to wear skirts even if they didn't want to. I was friends with a few of those girls. They had rights too.

TMI

So what if it's a reprint. I haven't answered it before. I moved this ahead in the cue because I wanted to write a post about things in it.

1. Commando: Sexy or disgusting? Do you have a "best" commando story?

Sexy. Definitely sexy. In fact, I don't really even like the term "commando" because it doesn't sound sexy enough. There needs to be a sexier term. "Unfurnished basement?"

That being said, I generally wear panties. When I'm wearing pants, I don't like to be bare underneath, partially because there's not a lot of point to it, partially simply for comfort. But in a skirt or dress, if I'm feeling naughty or know I'm going to have opportunities, or if I'm going somewhere where I'm likely to lose my panties anyway, I leave the access roads open so to speak.

My best commando story? I think this topic deserves its own post. Let me finish this up and I'll write one.

2. Foreplay: Is there such a thing as too much?

It pains me to admit this, but yes, there definitely is. It depends on your definition of foreplay how much is too much: if you think there can't be any genital contact for foreplay, then the limit goes way down, for instance. You'd think that, if I'm getting mine as far as oral is concerned, I wouldn't care, and to a certain extent that's true. Plus, with another gal, I don't really consider that foreplay. But if penetration is on offer, either with toys or with cocks, at a certain point, no matter how nice and numerous the orgasms you're giving me without are, I want to be stuck. That's just how I roll.

3. Oral sex: Good if you are getting? Good is you are giving? Equally ewwwww?

Yes please. The only way oral is ewwww is if cleanliness is missing, and I don't go to bed with stinky people. In my younger days, I had a higher tolerance for lack of bathing, but now my bar is set higher. But I like to get from anyone and everyone, and I like to give to guys and gals equally too, so sign me up for oral.

4. Orgasm: Is one per night enough or does the first one just get your motor running?

One? One? And per night? I want sugar in the morning, sugar in the evening, sugar at suppertime. The answer is that the first one definitely gets my motor running in nearly all cases. Fortunately for my motor, I turn over easy. And if that grammatically-incorrect and poorly-phrased metaphor didn't work, it means that I'm allowed to be fairly demanding on the orgasm front because it's easy to make me cum. If I were a girl who needed an hour of constant attention to get off, I'd probably have to make do with one a day.

5. Morning sex: "Oh hell yes!", "Well if I have, too." or "Just get in the shower and go to work."

It's a nice way to wake up, but I confess that, if you're waking me up with sex, you'd better be prepared to be in control. Now, if I'm up and in the shower and have time, that's a nice way to start the day, and I can be a little more on the ball. Basically, I don't sleep well and I kind of hate mornings, but morning sex is the best way to put up with a morning I can think of.

Bonus (as in optional): Have you ever had anonymous sex? Have you ever had an orgasm without at least knowing your partner's last name?

I don't know exactly what constitutes anonymous sex. If we're talking about a glory hole, I've never done that, probably never will, although I do fantasize about it sometimes. If we're simply talking, "Have you ever fucked someone you'd never met before and never met again after the act?" then yes, I have. I'm not particularly proud of that achievement, but at the same time it does get me hot thinking about it. I've also had mystery sex where I know I fucked someone but don't even remember doing it, and it wasn't anyone I know. That's unfortunate, because I like to enjoy my sex, so not really remembering it isn't good at all, aside from the horrible risks involved. Still, I do enjoy fantasizing about it in the third person, the helpless drunk lying there, a guy coming in and having his way with her... sometimes my mind is a bit sick. I don't view it as rape, because I remember agreeing to it, but I don't remember much.

And I've had way too many orgasms with partners whose last names I didn't know. To tell the truth, I don't know that I knew Sveta's last name until after I had my first orgasm with her. I can't remember. I just knew her as Sveta. I knew her fairly well, but last names hadn't come up. I get introduced to people without last names all the time. Plus, my memory for last names isn't all that good, so I may have been told last names, but not really know them. I won't count that though. The point is, yes, I've had a lot of random, dumb sex with people I didn't know well, and there are pluses and a minuses to that.

Monday, April 19, 2010

Touch Taste Smell

Ordinarily I pay attention to her face, but tonight my mind is on the naughtier parts. Not that I don't love looking into her eyes as the first spasm hits, the pupils dilate slightly, the corners crinkle. Tonight, I'm not looking at anything. My eyes are closed.

Muscle memory moves my fingers to the right spots, and I feel the soft elasticity as I gently part her labia. I can see in my mind the pink inner space, but I banish that thought and smell it instead, trying to develop some kinky synaesthesia between fingers and nose. I'm not very good at it; the pinkness is too alluring and it keeps poking itself back behind my eyes. But I inhale and smell her. It's been sex all day with no cleaning up after except tongues and lips, so she smells of sweat, delicate but present, and sex, a hint of the bleach scent of semen, the dull musk of her anus wafting up, barely there. But underneath, the smell I love, "that hot pussy smell," as Sheri calls it, somewhat irreverently.

Her pinkness smells sweet. It's not the sweetness of fruit or the cloying scent of flowers. It's a sweetness all its own. I suppose it's an acquired scent, a scent with which some people don't want to acquaint themselves, but if I had to recommend a pussy to sample first, hers would be on the list. She smells strongly of readiness now; the irony of us is that we get more and more ready the more sex we have. She smells ready in a continued way, not in the way she'd smell if we hadn't seen each other in months, if she hadn't gotten any in months. That would be desperate. This is just ready, very ready.

I can feel the warmth under my fingertips, not exactly radiating out like some people describe, but warm, inviting, and without opening my eyes I dart my tongue out, knowing without seeing exactly where to flick it. It slips in and out of her passage so quickly it's like it was never there, and I feel her tense and relax almost imperceptibly.

The human sense of taste is mostly based on smell, so she doesn't really taste any different than she smells. The sensation on the tongue is slightly salty, I suppose, but salty in the way that properly-seasoned food has salt; it enhances the flavor, but doesn't become a flavor of its own. Her juices if she's been at it a while are slightly syrupy in texture, possibly because she loses moisture during the process. They spread on the tongue, slick the lips. But they're designed to be natural lube, so that's hardly surprising. It's not like she doesn't feel and taste better than any synthetic lube. If they could bottle her, it'd sell like hotcakes.

Now I delve my tongue quickly, but slightly more purposefully, into her passage and run it up over the lump of her clit, so smooth that my tongue feels like sandpaper by comparison. She's blessed with pubic hair that is fine and easy to manage, although there is quite a bit of it when she lets it grow, which she doesn't any more. I prefer her bare, but I sometimes miss feeling it brush against various parts of me, soft and downy. But the skin after she shaves is baby-smooth, and I'd miss that if it weren't there. I give it a kiss, on the pubic bone, then run my lips slowly down over her clit again, feeling the bump inflate and pop into my mouth for an instant, making her shiver.

My fingers can no longer just spread. The middle finger on my right hand, almost of its own free will, slides easily down like it was falling into a whirlpool, then slips into her, first the tip plugging the hole, then into her up to the first knuckle, curling slightly to adjust to the space as it adjusts to me, then in to the second knuckle, stroking her walls slowly, feeling the heat all around. If I had a cock, I would love to penetrate her, but as it is, this is almost as good. My lips are around her clit now, putting just a hint of suction on the emerging button.

I feel her hand in my hair, and a sigh escapes her as I finally press the finger home, all the way in, as deep as it gets. I've tried playing with her cervix, but that's not something I do at the beginning, not until I've had her going for a while. Now, I just press up with my finger against my lips and chin, and flick the tip of my tongue around the base of her clit. I can feel the juices, thick and slippery, cover my finger, a little drooling out over my palm. I can smell them too, farther away now. Her warmth is like a fever now.

Two fingers is tighter than one, but it spreads her laterally as well as in depth. My tongue now laps at her clit, softly but firmly. My fingertips press up inside, entering and withdrawing slightly, and I feel her thigh muscles tense next to my ears, hear the breathing increase, feel the hand in my hair clench slightly. She's close, and she knows it. She's trying to relax but failing.

When it comes, I'm ready. I've shifted my mouth lower, a finger from her moist cunt now rubbing her joy buzzer, my tongue deep inside her, tasting the rising pressure. And then she explodes. The warmth flows out of her, not a squirt so much as an upwelling, not a geyser but certainly an eruption. After the stronger taste of her pussy, it's almost like nothing, warm and wet and smelling vaguely of something I enjoy but can't quite place. Sometimes it's stronger, but this time it's just warm and wet and slightly sweet. There's not enough to swallow like a drink, just enough to cover my lips and tongue and mouth. If I were looking at her face, I would see her cry out, but I feel instead the pulses, contraction and release, in her thighs, belly and on my tongue inside her. And I know she's happy, even without hearing her say it or seeing her smile.

Saturday, April 17, 2010

Equal Parts

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Thursday, April 15, 2010

We Had No Bananas

When Kate found out that Sveta was going to be in town for the whole week, of course she wanted to have us over. And honestly, when I found out that Sveta wanted to have a threesome with another woman, I called Kate up post-haste, because while I wish I had Sheri or Mari available, I don't, and Kate is. She's not the greatest lesbian in the world, but she'll do, and there was always a chance of a foursome with Roger, who isn't the greatest anything in the world but four is better than three.

I bash on Roger because he's not particularly likable and he can't really fuck for beans. No wonder Kate has to go out and find other people to get her off. I've never gotten the impression that Roger mistreats her or the kids, or that she's unhappy in the marriage, but still, if I were married to him, I'd definitely be stepping out regularly. But that's probably true of anyone. I don't know; I let him stick it to me whenever he wants, so I can't hate him, but I just don't think he's all that great.

We arranged to meet up at her place during the day, partially because that was when things worked out, partially because I confess, I didn't really want to introduce complications, and partially because I didn't want to spend the night. Roger and the kids weren't there (the different spring breaks for every school in the world are confusing as hell; everyone should have the same week off so I'd know) which was just as well.

If it had been warmer, we might have gone in bathing suits. As it was, we went in clothes which weren't really all that sexy, but with no underwear to get lost in the shuffle. Kate greeted us at the door wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts, which was a nice way to start things out.

Of course, she was offering drinks and pot and pretty much anything we wanted, but I wanted a clear head and to be able to drive home, so I declined. Sveta seemed slightly tempted, but in the end, she sipped once at a glass of wine and then things got too busy to be worrying about drinking. She left the glass on the counter and never went back for it.

Kate was all over her. She admitted right away that Roger asked if she would videotape the proceedings, but she did ask us if that was okay. I was fine with it, and Sveta didn't really say no, so in the end we left it and I assume that Roger got plenty of jollies out of it. It did mean that we had to move to the bedroom for the festivities, but that was okay. I prefer a bed to the floor in most cases.

Neither Sveta nor Kate had any experience having two other women to take care of, so to start out, they got involved with one another and I got a bit left out. Kate actually dropped her boxers as soon as she shut the door, and Sveta's shirt wound up in the hall, but her pants stayed on until she lay back on the bed and Kate slowly took them down. "Gorgeous," she said, which is a sentiment I'll gladly echo. Kate doesn't waste time with preliminaries, which is sort of too bad, but when she dove into Sveta's snatch and started licking for all she was worth, I don't think my sweetie minded much. I didn't mind either; Kate stuttered a little when I came up behind her and started probing her pussy with my finger, but she regained focus after a moment.

I still don't know where the camera is, and I can't say that I care, but it's possible that the angles were all off, which amuses me to think about more than anything. If all Roger got to see for the first few minutes was my still-clothed back, well then he should have been there to direct. Once I got my tongue involved in Kate's cunt and she came, I let her alone because I wanted her to concentrate fully on pleasing Sveta, and pulled my own clothes off rather peremptorily I'm afraid. Then I sat on Sveta's face, leaning forward and looking down, offering a few pointers to Kate on how better to please Sveta. It wasn't the best oral I've ever gotten, but the poor gal was distracted. Kate's a bit rougher than I am.

Finally, Sveta came, hard, which surprised Kate because in the hustle and bustle I don't think I mentioned how hard Sveta cums. She moaned right up into my pussy, and the vibrations of her lips set me off too, and while it was a little O, nothing to write home about, it's always nice when we cum together, since it doesn't happen often. Kate was spluttering, so I reached down and kept a nice tension on Sveta's clit so things wouldn't go south.

After that, Sveta felt bad, because she still has some hangups about orgasms. Once Kate realized that Sveta wasn't pissing on her face, she felt bad for having reacted badly. It was just a buzz-kill. But I gave Sveta a kiss, lay down beside her and wrapped her in my arms and told her it was okay, and she recovered and told Kate it was okay, and after the hiccup things were warming up again. We sandwiched Sveta between us, and then she asked if we could try a circle, since she'd seen that in a porno. It was a bit goofy, but why not, especially since we were on camera?

I got to eat out Sveta, never a bad thing; she got Kate, and Kate got me. After the tiny O I'd had, I enjoyed Kate's rather brusque style and was the first to get off, beating out Kate by a narrow margin. Sveta was amazed at how shallow Kate is, which is probably the only reason Kate didn't get off first. Then Kate hopped up to get a vibe, which she used to terrific effect on my pussy, getting it nice and wet, before she moved it to Sveta's nipples in time to get her moaning and spasming as I sucked all the juice out of her clenching pussy.

Then I lay back and let Kate and Sveta work on me. They stuck the vibe up my ass, cranked it up full, and took turns kissing and licking every part of my body until I was rolling with orgasms. Most fun I've had in ages (of a certain type of fun).

Sveta looked pretty worn out after that and it was time for Kate to pick up the boys, so we put our clothes back on, resisted Kate's entreaties to stay for dinner and more fun, and headed back home. I know, why didn't we stay? Because while I wanted to give Sveta what she wanted, I also wanted to keep her all to myself for the week. Kate's house was just a social call, not a commitment.

Anyway, Sveta loved it, even though she agrees with me that Kate's a bit rough around the edges. It was probably best that Roger wasn't there; he never would have been able to satisfy all three of us. Kate wants to have us back as soon as possible, of course.

I just want to be able to have a proper, lengthy session with the whole family, Sheri and Mari and Mike and Dad and Mom and Sveta and me, all together, all having fun. That may never happen. But if I could get Sheri to visit us while Sveta's visiting, that'd be epic. Someday. Someday.

Shared Porn

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Tuesday, April 13, 2010

The Part of Tens

I've read a fair number of "For Dummies" books. If you haven't, you won't get the reference. But I got this (how's that for a segue) from Kara and Jess, whose answers are probably much better than mine, and why wouldn't they be, because there are two hot girls over there. Wait! Come back! Shit, I never should have mentioned them. Damn you, hot lesbians! Damn you!

Sunday Stealing: The Eight Tens Meme

TEN TO START.

1. Are you single?

What's your definition of "single?" Because the answer is no.

2. Are you happy?

Meh.

3. Are you bored?

Right at the moment, yes, otherwise I wouldn't be writing this.

4. Are you naked?

Half.

5. Are you a blonde?

Why is this the one they always ask? Never, "Are you a redhead?"

6. Are you moody?

Gods yes. Still. Damn hormones.

7. Are you a lover/hater?

Lover, baby!

8. Are you hot/cold?

At the moment, cold. But I'm hot-blooded.

9. Are you Irish?

What, this is your way of pacifying the redheads? Well it won't work. You'd think I was Irish, but I'm not.

10. Are you Asian?

Are you a census taker? I'm of mixed European decent. We keep holding out for something more interesting, and it's certainly possible that we have some non-boring blood in us somewhere, but I don't think I qualify for any Affirmative Action.

TEN FACTS.

1. Name:

Lexi. You ought to know that by now.

2. Nicknames:

Some of them I can't reveal because it would give too much away. Lexi is a nickname anyway, isn't it?

3. Birth mark:

I was born with a perfectly-drawn map to dry land on my back. The ancients believed I was a child of prophecy. But the hospital washed me and it all went down the drain. Now humanity is doomed.

Yes, I did just make a Waterworld joke.

4. Hair color:

You asked whether I was blonde earlier. What gives? I'm a redhead. Everyone knows that.

5. Natural hair color:

Chartreuse

6. Eye color:

Green.

7. Height:

Pushing 6 feet. I know. I'm tall.

8. Facebook Mood

Curious yellow. I don't know.

9. Favorite color:

I'm quite partial to purple, actually. Deep, rich purple. Or indigo. I don't like pastels. I like red too, but that seems a bit vain. And of course, I like black because it keeps me invisible in the night.

10. One Place to Visit:

Egypt. I'd love to go to Egypt. I'm not much for tourism, but that's on my list. I'll never get to go, of course, but I'd like to.

TEN THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE.

1. Do you believe in love at first sight?

I don't know. The romantic in me does, I guess. I believe in lust at first sight, and sometimes that can turn into love if it's meant to be. But most of the time, it's just lust.

2. Do you believe in soul mates?

As long as I can have more than one.

4. Have you ever been hurt emotionally?

Seriously? Okay, I guess some people are lucky. Sure I have.

5. Have you ever broken someone’s heart?

I hope not, but it's entirely possible.

6. Have you ever been cheated on?

Yes.

7. Have you ever liked someone and not told them?

Yes. Hasn't everyone? Unrequited love is a constant of life, I think.

8. Are you afraid of commitment?

I'm not afraid of it, I just have a different definition of it, I guess. I'm perfectly capable of being committed to someone without monogamy.

Or did you mean the nice young men in their clean white coats? That, I expect with grudging certainty.

9. Who was the last person you hugged?

Dad.

10. Who was the last person you kissed?

Ditto. Boring but true. It could just as easily have been Mom. I do hug and kiss her too.

TEN THIS OR THAT.

1. Love or lust?

Love ideally, but usually lust, unfortunately.

3. Cats or dogs?

I've had dogs, I love cats.

4. A few best friends or many regular friends?

A few best friends. I'm not a Facebook-type friend.

5. Television or internet?

Internet, sadly. I wish the options included books, so I could lie.

6. Chinese or Indian?

Don't make me choose. Throw in some Thai, Vietnamese, Mongolian, Korean... yeah, I'll eat my way across the continent. And then on to the rest of the world. I like ethnic food.

7. Wild night out or romantic night in?

Romantic night in. I get to have those so seldom. But then I seldom have the other kind either. Recent events are not part of the trend.

8. Money or Happiness?

Happiness, although I'd like to have enough money that happiness could be unconstrained by an inability to afford to live. Since I seldom have either, I'd take a bit of both.

9. Night or day?

Night. I am the night!

10. IM or phone?

In person or bust.

TEN HAVE YOU EVER.

1. Been caught sneaking out?

No. My parents let me do theatre things from a fairly early age, which meant that I was out all hours anyway.

2. Been skinny dipping?

Yes.

3. Stolen?

Yes. Not proud of it. I was young and stupid.

4. Bungee jumped?

No. Not likely to. I have enough trouble with the heights I have to climb without volunteering to jump off tall places.

5. Lied to someone you liked?

Constantly. It's a sad feature of my life. That's why I'm so glad Sveta knows.

6. Finished an entire jaw breaker?

No. I believe I did finish one of those really big lollipops once, but it took forever and at the end it was basically a force of will.

8. Wanted an ex bf/gf back?

Yes.

9. Cried because you lost a pet?

God yes. I cry like a baby about dead goldfish. Such a wuss.

10. Wanted to disappear?

As a super-power... it has a vague appeal, but it wouldn't be my first choice. As a way of escaping from embarrassment, definitely. Worse. I've wanted to just explode, so not only would I no longer be there but I'd be dead and not have to remember having been there.

TEN PREFERENCES IN A PARTNER.

1. Smile or eyes?

Eyes. A good smile should be in the eyes anyway. The lips... well, they have their definite appeal, but they lie a lot. Don't trust someone who doesn't smile with their eyes.

2. Light or dark hair?

It's all good, baby.

3. Hugs or kisses?

Kisses by a narrow margin.

4. Shorter or taller?

In guys, taller. In gals, shorter. That's a general preference, not an absolute rule. There is no, "You must be this tall to ride the Wild Lexi," sign. Although that gives me a great idea for a Halloween costume...

5. Intelligence or attraction?

I believe this should be, "Intelligence or looks?" since obviously if you choose intelligence, you're attracted to intelligence. Or perhaps it could be rephrased, "Deep or shallow?" How many people lie about this, I wonder?

If I'm going for a long-term connection, it can't just be premised on looks. I've tried it and it doesn't work. Because I have no problem being friend and lover simultaneously, if I couldn't be friends with a person, I'm not likely to be able to be romantic with them. It's not a question of raw intelligence either; I have to be simpatico with their brain.

However, in terms of wanting to fuck someone, I could give a shit how smart they are. Seriously, my fuck-buddies can be dumb as bricks, as long as all I want them for is a good lay. I have no idea how smart many of the people with whom I've fucked are. And I don't care. There, that's honesty for you. But I also don't necessarily care about looks, in that I don't only fuck super-beautiful people. It's chemistry there too, it's just a shallower, physical chemistry.

6. Romantic or spontaneous?

What, spontaneous can't be romantic? I guess I'll go with spontaneous, but really, either of them in moderation is fine. It's when things get overly one or the other that I start worrying.

7. Funny or serious?

Funny. Life is too serious already.

8. Older or Younger?

For guys, older, for gals, younger. I'm terrible. Again, not a rule, just a vague preference.

9. Outgoing or quiet?

There's something incredibly sexy about quiet. Plus, I'm quite myself.

10. Sweet or Bad Ass?

Sweet, quirky, devious, but not bad ass. I'm so far from Bad Ass the light from the sun around which it revolves takes years to reach me.

TEN HAVE YOUS.

1. Ever performed in front of a large crowd?

I've acted for a large crowd, and once I was in a band which performed at a battle of the bands and didn't win. It wasn't a huge crowd, but it was a crowd.

2. Ever done drugs?

Nothing harder than pot. I try to keep it to a minimum in any case.

3. Ever been pregnant?

No. Someday...

5. Ever been on a cheer leading team?

Sort of.

6. Ever Been on a dance team?

No, I'm not much of a dancer.

7. Ever been on a sports team?

Briefly because it was what everyone was doing, until I realized that I suck at most sports and I don't have the constitution for it.

8. Ever been in a drama play/production?

Constantly.

9. Ever owned a BMW, Mercedes Benz, Escalade, Hummer or Bentley?

What the hell kind of pretentious question is this? "Why yes, I welded a BMW to my Benz, then wired the whole thing up so I could remote-control it from my Bentley as I drive to the parking garage where Jeeves keeps my Hummer and Escalade in spotless condition, mint-in-box." Douche. For some reason though, this is reminding me of Early Cuyler's truck-boat-truck. Do you watch that show? Why not?

10. Ever been in a rap video?

Not a rap video, no.

TEN LASTS.

1. Last phone call you made:

To Sveta, I assume. I don't remember any others. I'm not a phone person, but for her, I make the sacrifice

2. Last person you hung out with:

Hung out? What does that mean, exactly? I'll say Simon.

4. Last time you worked:

Always.

5. Last person you tackled:

I have no idea. I've done it, but I don't remember when or who.

6. Last person you IMed:

Samuel_Morse69>> wut hath god rot LOL

Lexi>> Shut up you deceased historical personage!

8. Last person(s) you went to the movies with:

It's been a long time since I went to the movies. Possibly not since I saw Up with Mom and Dad. Great flick.

9. Last thing you missed:

If we're talking "missing" as in wishing I still had around, Sveta. If we're talking "missing" as in a story breaking that I didn't hear about until way later, damned if I know. I'm always the last to know.

10. Last thing you ate:

Burritos!

Monday, April 12, 2010

Interview the Second

Because we enjoyed it, instead of recording another one, we sat down and did some question-answer textually (partially to spare my having to type up things, partially because it seemed like talking wasn't producing exactly the results I'd hoped for). I edited and cleaned up and such, so don't blame her for any mistakes. Oh, and in case you're wondering, we did this on two computers over a chat thing. No, I don't chat. But I made an exception this once. And given the fact that we both kind of liked it, we may do some chatting long-distance in the future. But it was more fun to be sitting side by side chatting, partially because we could make outside comments verbally.

Lexi: Okay, seriously, how does it feel when you cum?

Sveta: The first few times, it really did feel like I was wetting myself. That's why I was nervous about it. Now, I guess it feels like there's a hand squeezing my insides, hard, and then suddenly letting go. That doesn't sound like fun, but it is. It happens again and again sometimes.

Lexi: Does it feel different to cum with a cock inside you?

Sveta: Yeah, there's pressure in and out. But not totally. I feel it in my stomach too, and that's the same if there's a cock or not. Does it feel different for you?

Lexi: Yes, the same way you describe I think. Although if I'm only having a small O, the cock doesn't really matter. But if the O makes my cunt tighten up, having something hard inside definitely makes things different.

Sveta: I think I only have one kind of cum.

Lexi: We'll have to work on that. There's a whole range of orgasms you can have. Hell, maybe the orgasms you're having currently are only the small ones, and if we really worked at it, you could have big ones too.

Sveta: I don't think I could handle that.

Lexi: Never know until you try.

Sveta: I'm afraid I might explode.

Lexi: I'd pay money to see that.

Sveta: Are you calling me a whore?

Lexi: Of course not. I'm calling you a valuable commodity. Does orgasm feel different during anal, then?

Sveta: Of course. I don't really notice my ass tightening up when I cum normally, but if there's a cock in there, it's noticeable.

Lexi: Does it hurt?

Sveta: It did a little the first few times, but now, it's just like when I talk about the hand squeezing me. It might not sound fun, but it really is.

Lexi: But you prefer vaginal?

Sveta: Yeah, sorry.

Lexi: Why apologize? More anal for me.

Sveta: If you think you're stealing all my anal, think again bitch.

Lexi: Okay, okay, you can have a little. Okay, for me but also for everyone else, what's a sexual thing you haven't done yet but really want to.

Sveta: Putting me on the spot.

Lexi: Damn right.

[A definite pause while she thought about this, with offhand comments trying to get me to forget I asked.]

Sveta: There are a bunch of things, I think, but I'd like to try a threesome with another girl and you.

Lexi: Oh, that we're going to have to make happen.

[And did, thank you kindly, which is another story.]

Sveta: And there's some stuff I have done but want to do again.

Lexi: Make a list.

Sveta: How about you?

Lexi: Well, your threesome idea is definitely at the top of my list now. I mean, I've had a threesome with two girls before, but never with you as one of them. I've read a number of blog posts recently about stuff like that, and I haven't done it in a while, so yeah, that's top of the list.

Sveta: Not two guys?

Lexi: Two guys and us two girls... yeah, we could do that too, but we've done that before, with Mike and Dad.

Sveta: When is Mike coming home?

Lexi: Maybe if you write him a pleading letter, he'll be more inclined to come back for a cute coed than for his boring old sister.

Sveta: You're not boring.

Lexi: Or old?

Sveta: Don't put words in my mouth, grandma.

Now, if I hadn't been in the same room with her, I might have been worried there. But I was, so I could see her giggling, and at that point I gave up writing and told her I'd prove to her I wasn't old, and things devolved into sex, as all good things should.

If you've got questions, even questions for Sveta, you can send them along and we'll see what we can do. I'm not planning on turning this into a clearinghouse for Sveta's trivia; if she wants to do that, she can start her own blog. But a few questions can't hurt, and it'll help her get more comfortable talking about stuff. I don't guarantee that answers will be forthcoming, but you can ask and hope.

Not As Much As I'd Like

The title of this post could describe pretty much everything in my life at the moment, but specifically, Sveta's back in college now, so I didn't get as much time as I'd like with her, but that's hardly news. I also didn't blog as much as I'd like while she was here, but there are a few things we worked up which I just haven't had the time to post, and a few things to tell, and basically can you blame me for wanting to spend time with her and not telling you about spending time with her? I thought not.

However, we can now look forward to a period of crippling depression because I'll miss her. After a week and change, the withdrawal is sure to be severe. I can already feel the emptiness in the pit of my stomach. It's possible that I'll attempt to fill the void with blogging, but just as possible that I'll retreat into myself and not come out for several days. Plus, getting closer and closer to crunch time at my latest gig, although this crunch should be decidedly less crunchy than the last one, thank goodness.

And what's worse, my parents are out of town for the week, so I'm here all by myself. If I were a party girl (and about 10 years younger) I'd throw a rager. I'm not. I sort of wish Sveta had been available to be here this week, because it would have been great, just the two of us. But I'm glad she was here last week , because it meant she got plenty of Dad to tide her over the lean time ahead. She really invigorated him too; twice a day, like clockwork. One day, three times. That was epic; she spent pretty much the whole day fucking Dad. I may talk about that later.

Anyway, as I said, there are some things which I'll get around to posting, so even if it's belated, we'll have coverage of the week. I may work on one right now, in fact. I need to cum in the worst way.

Saturday, April 10, 2010

Three Adorable Girls

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Thursday, April 8, 2010

Interview

She's here, so I'm going to take advantage of that fact.

Lexi: First off, thanks for sharing.

Sveta: [Giggles] Are you really going to act like this is an interview? 'Cause sitting here naked with you is kinda throwing off that vibe.

Lexi: I can put some clothes on if you want.

Sveta: No, no, don't do that.

Lexi: For the readers at home, Sveta's sucking my left nipple. Ooh, she's using her teeth. Bad girl. Okay, okay, stop, later, later... just a little to the left.

Sveta: People really want to hear me?

Lexi: I'm having fun, even if no one else cares. Truth time: what's your favorite color?

Sveta: Um... blue, I guess. I don't know. Do I have to answer silly questions?

Lexi: Yes, damnit! Only silly questions are worth answering.

Sveta: Do I get to ask any questions?

Lexi: No. Now be good or no more nookie for you.

Sveta: Liar.

Lexi: What do you like best about me? No, only kidding. What's your favorite sexual thing to do?

Sveta: You.

Lexi: Flattery will get you everywhere, minx.

Sveta: I like the thing you do with your fingers and thumb.

Lexi: With the thumb in the ass?

Sveta: Yeah. But I do like your dad too. And Mike. I like sex.

Lexi: Nothing wrong with that. Tell us about your first orgasm.

Sveta: Really? Okay, I was lying in bed, right, and thinking about boys, and I squeezed my legs together really tight and suddenly I wet the bed. [Blushes] I was really embarrassed. I thought I'd peed myself.

Lexi: Didn't it feel good at all?

Sveta: It did for a second I guess, but then I was panicking, and I didn't do that again.

Lexi: So after the first time, you never tried anything like that again until your first time?

Sveta: Don't they know all this stuff already?

Lexi: We've got short attention spans and we like to hear cute girls talk about cumming.

Sveta: [Giggles] I like to cum more than I like to talk about it.

Lexi: For all of us out there who don't cum as beautifully as you, tell us how it feels now that you're not scared of it.

Sveta: Great.

Lexi: That's it?

Sveta: Come on, I'm not writing an essay about it.

Lexi: Why not? Oh, careful now sports fans, I believe our interview has gone off the rails. Bad Sveta. Come back here and talk about it. Don't put your hand there; you don't know where that pussy has been. [Muffled] Stop kissing me. Okay, fuck it [throws microphone away with a loud thud]

[Interview terminated.]

We tried. But honestly, we were just doing this for a bit of fun. No, I'm not planning on sharing the audio. I only recorded it so I could type it up later. Just a lark, that's all. We weren't taking it terribly seriously, as you can probably tell from the transcript. The comedy team of Lexi and Sveta, coming soon to a burlesque house near you. We're working on our Yiddish accents, and maybe we'll do a few old Brooks/Reiner routines with a sexy edge to them.

No we won't. But maybe we'll try again and be a bit more informational. Or maybe not. It remains to be seen.

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

TMI Springtime

TMI for the week. It's a meme. I do it. Filler. Blah.

1. With warm weather on the horizon, what outdoor activity are you most looking forward to?

Being able to wear more salacious clothing. No, only kidding. In truth, there are some outdoor things I enjoy doing, but I don't really look forward to them any more than I look forward to things indoors. I guess making love outside is fun, if the mosquitoes don't get you first. And yes, being able to show off my assets a little is fun too. And I like to barbecue. And swim, although I almost never do it any more. I miss swimming. I should try to do it some this summer.

I enjoy this time of year when it's nice out, because it's a bit too early for all the bugs and it's still pretty cool. Of course, when it rains, that's different. And we may yet get a cold snap. Probably not, but maybe. Spring's coming earlier and earlier. And thus, so will the pollen, and I'll be miserable for longer and longer periods until I have to stay in a hermetically-sealed bubble, which will put a cramp on my social agenda, to say the least. Stupid global warming.

2. Ever found any strange items while Spring cleaning? If so, what?

I don't spring clean... much. No more than I clean any other time of year. That makes me a bad person, I know, but I'm not a cleaner.

3. Daylight savings time was this month...what did you do with the extra hour?

Spring ahead. Spring ahead. We lost an hour. Skipped right over 2AM that Sunday morning. I hate Daylight Savings Time because it fucks up my internal clock something awful. My circadian rhythms are all out of wack, and I'll have about enough time to figure them out before we change back. Fucking clocks.

4. What are some weird home remedies that you have tried to cure allergies or seasonal colds?

Nope. My mother swears by things like that, but I find that either I have to suffer through them or if they get serious I take a decongestant and feel like a meth-head. I don't fuck about; I take the stuff you have to ask for behind the counter. A friend of mine doesn't believe in allergies, and whenever she gets sick, she drinks a lot. Doesn't seem to help. But I'm not going to point that out to her.

5. If you could change the tune of the ice cream truck to any song, which would you change it to and why?

The ice cream truck has various different tunes depending on the company and the location. I wish there were a website where you could turn any tune into an ice cream truck sound, because I think it'd be funny to turn some music into a music box sound. But I like the tunes they play now. They make me think of children at play and innocence. I don't eat ice cream much, but I like the tunes.

Bonus (optional): What's your craziest Spring Break memory? Explain.

I have a few. Not that I've ever been to Daytona or anything like that for Spring Break, but I've done some spring-break things. I think maybe my craziest spring break memory was letting a guy do shots out of my cunt. We started with the shot glass inside me, then progressed to just pouring the alcohol into me. Not smart. Anesthetized me right up, to the point where I was wasted and wanted to fuck, but couldn't cum at all. It was strange. I mean, I could feel things, but it was like the worst drunk fuck I've ever had. And it's awkward to do shots out of someone. Belly button, yes. Pussy, no.

Monday, April 5, 2010

Sex and Chocolate

The only thing better than sex and chocolate is more sex and more chocolate and maybe some good liquor of some kind. I developed a fondness for bourbon and chocolate while baking some brownies; needless to say, the brownies never actually got made, I just drank the bourbon and ate the chocolate. I'm not a big whiskey drinker (I lump bourbon and scotch into "whiskey" because they are, by God, whiskeys) but I enjoy a little glass with some good sweet chocolate. The play of the bitterness and sweetness and smokiness... yeah, maybe not for everyone, but I like it.

But we didn't have any whiskey of any stripe other than the dregs of a bottle I cook with (and thus isn't the best). I have heard talk of chocolate martinis, but bah. Fie on silly martinis. The only martini is either gin or vodka and vermouth, and sometimes not even that. I had a friend who drank vodka out of a martini glass and called it a martini because she didn't like vermouth or olives. Anyway, you didn't come here to listen to me ramble about booze.

So we made do with chocolate and sex. The candy-coated mini eggs are great for imaginative play, because they melt in your mouth, not in other parts. Sveta was a little reluctant to try it, but once I demonstrated that a lot of fun can be had "bobbing" for Easter candy, she was totally into it. We finished off most of a bag. First I fed her some with my fingers, then I rubbed a few on her nipples after getting them nice and wet and fed them to her (the eggs, not her nipples; she's not that flexible). Then I rubbed a few on my pussy, not putting them in, just running them over the outside. Then I dipped one in. Then I lay back and told her that I wasn't going to feed her any more; she had to get them herself, and stuffed three or four up inside me. In retrospect, I should have been slightly less impetuous, because by the time she got the first two out, the other ones were softening considerably. Still, if it made a little mess, it was fun getting cleaned up.

After she realized that the eggs weren't going to get stuck inside and have to be removed by doctors (well, care and attention should be paid, as always, but in this case, we were fine) she was totally gung ho. And if there's something I like more than whiskey and chocolate, it's pussy and chocolate. Also cum and chocolate, but that came later. Toward the end of the bag, she was squatting over my face and making clucking noises. It was a silly, sexy time for both of us, lots of fun, and once we got over our giggles, I grabbed her, pulled her into the shower, and we cleaned off, which turned into mostly just fucking. She came quickly after all the excitement, but I stuck around and got a second one out of her shortly thereafter, a fist-(and other parts)clenching one which made her moan, "Oh God Lexi!" A more fitting commemoration of the resurrection, I can't conceive.

I've basically resigned myself to the knowledge that Sveta is getting all the cock this week, at least from Dad. I had hoped to see Mike maybe, but his spring break doesn't line up with Easter, and he had other plans. Grrrrrr. Ah well, Sveta has no outlets for most of her life, so she gets all Dad's cock. There's been talk of maybe trying to hit up Kate and Roger, but I want to have some me-and-Sveta time before I go looking for other people to join us. Anyway, while occasionally I'll get a quick O from Dad before he moves over to Sveta, she gets all the cum. But that's really fine with me because it means I get to clean her up.

Easter evening, after dinner, we all watched a movie, and Sveta slipped over into Dad's lap before we got ten minutes in. They didn't fuck, just sort of sat, his arms around her, occasionally going between her legs and stroking, or stroking her breasts, and her ass rubbing back against him, pressing his cock in and out of her in small increments. Kinda cute. Once the movie was over (yes, Dad's a superman), while the credits were still rolling, I went over and started to kiss my way down her body from her lips down her neck, over both breasts (I made a U-turn and went back for the other one), over her cute little belly, and down. She was moving a bit faster when I made it to the business end, and I barely had time to suck her clit until she gasped and came before Dad was gripping her hips and leaning her forward while she still spasmed, pumping himself in and out for a frantic few moments, then pressing in and grunting, bathing her insides with white. Some of it spilled out and I licked that up, then while they were still coming down, ran and got some chocolate (Easter tradition) and when Dad slipped out, let the cum drool down onto the chocolate, then took a bite and offered Sveta one too. No hesitation there; she sucked it down without even pausing, grinned, and said, "Yum, Easter," with a grin. She fits right in.

Today, she and Mom and I went out for a girls' day. Went to lunch, went grocery shopping, even looked at some clothes, even though none of us really wanted to go clothes shopping. I got Sveta the cutest little pair of white panties with a big Easter egg on the crotch, on sale because who wants Easter novelty panties the day after Easter, right? Me, apparently. Also Sveta.

Now I'm here, she's in the other room, and pretty soon, dinner and possibly another movie or something. Who knows what the rest of the week will bring. Excitement, undoubtedly.