Flash Fiction Friday - Distant

A dried husk, a man no longer living, just alive. She went at him full tilt, screaming, trying to pry open his eyelids, beating at his chest, begging him to listen. Leathery silence scowled back at her. She dug her nails in, ripping at him, the fresh blood smelling of copper and hatred and death. She pierced to the core and found nothing but viscera and smoke. He wasn't there any longer. Only then did she weep.

---

This was not an easy one.  I'm not into pain, nor am I into vampires, and the picture and the forced inclusion of "fresh blood smells like copper" were difficult to shake.  So I cheated a little bit and changed the phrase.  You can't spank me.  You don't know where I am.  Still, not a sexy story.  I wish I could have come up with a sexy one, but I'll leave that to others who have more of a mind for this type of thing.  They can't all be winners.

Fresh Flash Fiction Friday, I'm given to understand, smells of ozone and baked potatoes.  Or maybe my potatoes have gone bad.  Stop by and give a sniff and tell me what you think Flash Fiction Friday smells like.  No, wait, I know.  It smells like victory.

Ragging

It's official: all the emotions and shit were indeed a preview for There Will Be Blood.  In other words, my fickle menstrual cycle is once again punishing me for not having the decency to get pregnant.  My poor little eggs, dropping one by one like flies in a bell jar.

Thankfully, Sveta is not.  Not so thankfully, Mike isn't here, which means that my principle means of sexual expression during this particular time of the month, anal, is not an option unless I can find someone else to do it, which I doubt because vaginal bleeding makes me feel less sexy for some reason.  I did ponder the idea of seeing if Roger would fuck my ass, but I don't think it's worth it, and Kate would be left out, and I can get off here at home, just not as well.

I don't get it as bad as some people, and it doesn't last a ridiculously long time, and the pill regulates it fairly well, so I'm lucky and I'm really not complaining about it.  I don't bloat much, or cramp up much, or really do anything other than bleed and miss out on sex, which is torture for me but hardly torture objectively.  I'm sorry, by the way, if you're one of those people who find the vagaries of the female pregnancy machine a bit disgusting.  It is what it is, and I have no problem talking about it, no more than I have a problem talking about the other components of pregnancy, penetration and ejaculation.

So since Sveta is completely open to possibilities, she asked why it mattered.  I could have kissed her.  In fact, I did.  But while maybe she wouldn't be grossed out by it, I am a little, honestly.  I'm not a big fan of blood, and it makes me feel somewhat less sexy down there.  So I praised her adventurous spirit but said we'd find another way to work it.

The way we're working it is in the shower.  I can eat her out, no problem, and she has fingers and kisses everywhere else to work on me.  And we trotted out the strapon so she could use that on me too.  The girl really likes the strapon, I'll give her that.  She enjoys wearing it much more than I do.  We've talked about next time maybe including the double dil in the regimen as well.  And I'm pretty sure that eventually she's going to wear me down and I'll let her try out licking me even though it doesn't seem sexy at the moment.  Who knows, maybe she'll hate it.  Not hate it, but not like it.  But I'd probably do the same for her if she asked, and while I'm not asking, I love that she wants to do it.  It makes me think that maybe some other topics might be broached in the near future.

It'll be over in a day or two, I hope, and then back to the normal things in life, like getting eaten out by your smoking-hot teen girlfriend while she takes your Dad's cock straight up her tight, tasty little snatch.  I am gloating a bit.  Sorry about that.

The Most Important Opinions

No offense to all my wonderful readers who've been kind enough to stop by and let me know they like the new look, but you all don't matter a hill of beans compared to my critics.  Specifically, Sheri, Mike, and Sveta.

Sheri actually took the time out of her busy schedule of making more money than I can ever hope for and getting fucked sixteen ways to Sunday by her boss to drop me a line and let me know that she liked the X over my ass.  "Classy," were her words.  Yes, she is fucking her boss.  I'm not sure when it started, but according to her, he's married, has two kids, and she and he boff like rabbits after closing time every day.  

One thing you should understand about Sheri; she doesn't think it's cheating because she's not having a relationship with this guy.  To her, it's like he's masturbating, only with help.  Me, I have several problems with what she's doing, but I am not her, as tests have repeatedly confirmed.  At first I thought she was sleeping her way to the top, but she said no, actually he wasn't treating her any differently, she'd been passed over for promotion a few times, she was just fucking him because right now she really liked fucking him.  I admit, from her description, I can see the attraction.  And there's the whole risk-taking aspect of things that she enjoys (and I don't not enjoy).  She seduced him by inter-office-memo-ing him a photocopy of her ass with a note on the back that said, "How about it?"  Sometimes you've just got to love my crazy sister.

Mike, from his gallivanting about, made it to a computer and said, "I liked the green better, I think."  You can't please everyone.  "But the blue is nice too."  It's purple, Mike.  Purple.  "Did Sveta take that pic?  I wish I had been there; we could have given them something more interesting to look at."  Like me naked isn't interesting enough.  Sheesh, boys, go fig.  I kid him.

I also don't really know where he is.  He's traveling, possibly looking for jobs (of course he's looking for jobs far away, of course), possibly just having a good time with his summer.  He invited me and Sveta to come along, but for various reasons we didn't, not least of which because I'm really not a traveler.  And poor.  And busy.

The last time I heard from him, he'd had a grand old time in his last port of call.  Got two coeds to come back to his hotel room with him, ended up spending a whole day in the room just fucking.  Mike is definitely up to that challenge.  The only details I have at the moment are that at one point one of the girls answered the door for room service completely naked, which sounds like a dream come true for some lucky hotel employee but was probably just awkward.  It only works like that in pornos.  Still, I wish I could have been there to witness it, among other things.

And of course, last but not least, my partner in crime in this whole escapade, Sveta, who has known about the changes for about as long as I have.  She has quite the graphic sense.  She helped with the colors, took the photos, and gave me her opinion on it a few times.  Originally, I had a border which was violets, but Sveta pointed out that it didn't really fit the waves theme of the header.  We tried some other things, including seashells, but I didn't want to make it aquatic.  The waves, to me, are more symbolic than anything else.  Maybe I'm diving into them, maybe they're coming up from my head; I don't honestly know.  Anyway, we settled on the stylized waves, although I did come up with the red accents.

So Sveta obviously likes the design.  So much so that yesterday she came over and checked it out with me for about a minute before things got too distracting and we wound up having to make love on the floor by the computer.  Dad came in and said, "One of two things needs to happen here: either you need to get out so I can work, or you need to go to my room so you can keep me from working in more comfortable surroundings.  Guess which option we chose?

But prior to that, Sveta, in fact, was foolish enough to pose for you in some exciting undergarments as she viewed a webpage with which you may be passingly familiar.  I'd say that's a ringing endorsement.  Look at that.  Aren't I lucky?

Anyway, that's the critic's corner.  Keep sending any critiques you may have, because despite my joking at the top, I really do care what people think.  Can you read the text?  Do you like the colors?  Would you prefer I had left the X somewhere else so my posterior could be completely denuded?  Of course you would.  But I'm classy.

Half of a Very Big Number

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Flash Fiction Friday - Damsel in Distress

1

Cramped and trembling, aching with need, she had been there for three days. No food, only a few swallows of water, and her mind was breaking down on her. No one was coming. She might as well give up.

Then she heard the footsteps, not the harsh stamp of her tormentors but a rushing, impetuous flight that carried him through the door. No words; he cried out in grief, pulling at the knots, then slashing the ropes, releasing her with a snap. She moaned as freedom brought harsh pain.

"They will pay for this," he growled, stroking her hair. "They will pay."

---

Or perhaps you'd prefer this:

---

2

Cramped and trembling, aching with need, she had been there for three days. Three days waiting, watching the guards, planning her move. No one was coming, and that was just the way she wanted it.

Fools think that ropes guarantee a bound prisoner. Her nails were sharp enough to cut the flimsy cord, and on the morning of the fourth day, when the bored guard brought water, he found himself fighting for his life against a naked, angry woman. "Where is Marcel?" she growled, his gun in her hands. When he didn't respond, she shrugged and shot him. "Marcel. I'm coming for you."

---

Or perhaps:

---

3

Cramped and trembling, aching with need, she had been there for three days. Or was it minutes. "Honey, seriously, this really chafes."

"You promised you'd try it," he replied, sitting there desperately polishing his meat trumpet. "I just don't think I can get it up any other way."

"You like looking at me like this?"

"I thought I would."

She shifted uncomfortably. "Baby, you know I'll try anything for you, but it's really no fun for me." Then her eyes glinted in a flash of insight. "Why don't we tie you up instead?"

Ten minutes later, she was pregnant.

---

I am really not trying to show off.  I wrote them in the order above.  First, I wrote one which was dramatic but didn't exactly make me feel all liberated-woman about it.  So I decided to subvert the trope and write the second one.  And in doing that, I realized that I had written two things which could well have led to something sexy, only they were too short to get there.  Plus, I like a bit of comedy.  So I wrote the third.  If I were going to be really pretentious, I might say that the triad was a perfect expression of the classic thesis-antithesis-synthesis.  But I've actually said that as an excuse to tell my favoritest Erisian joke ever: "Thesis-antithesis-sythesis-parenthesis-paralysis."  If you didn't get that, don't worry.

Now I have very little energy left over to entice you to join the fun and Flash Fiction Friday yourself all night long.  The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak, and so all I can say is that you really should, because if you don't, I can't guarantee your safety.  But since I can't guarantee your safety anyway, you do what you like.

Do not expect three from me every week.  Please don't, because then I'll be trapped in the "living up to unrealistic expectations" Hell that my life tends to become.

Filler Trivia

Okay, I saw this, theft was encouraged, and since I don't mind answering questions, even inane ones, I've decided to answer these.  I saw it on Beryl's blog, but it came from someone else, and so on and so on.  It's long, but what the hell.

1. First thing you wash in the shower? 

If I'm just taking a shower, with no funny business involved, I tend to wash between my legs first.  I don't know why, but I've always done it that way.  There's probably something that can be gotten out of that, but I don't know what it means.

2. What color is your favorite hoodie?

I don't wear hoodies.  Never have.  I prefer hats.

3. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

Absolutely.  It was either Sveta or one of my parents, so I'm totally safe in saying that.

4. Do you plan outfits?

Sometimes.  If I need to wear black, obviously, or if I'm trying to coordinate.  But not often.

5. How are you feeling RIGHT now?

Achy.

6. What's the closest thing to you that's red?

My picture on the computer screen, probably.

7. Tell me about the last dream you remember having?

I've had some wild dreams, but I don't tend to remember anything more than a vague impression of them being wild.  I don't mean wild enjoyable either, I just mean crazy.

8. Did you meet anybody new today?

Nope.  I could say that about most days.

9. What are you craving right now?

An apple-filled donut, which I don't seem to be able to get for love or money in this town.

10. Do you floss?

Not often enough.

11. What comes to mind when I say cabbage?

Kimchi.  Absolutely my favorite thing which sounds like it should be really disgusting but is really great.

12. Are you emotional?

Fairly.  I try to keep it under control in everyday life, but I'm not always successful.

13. Have you ever counted to 1,000?

I had to write out all the numbers from 1 to 1000 once as a punishment.

14. Do you bite into your ice cream or just lick it?

Bite, which makes my teeth hurt, which is part of the reason I don't like ice cream cones.  I prefer to eat it with a spoon, and even then, I'm not a huge fan of ice cream.  Give me the stuff that goes along with ice cream any day.  Brownies, fudge, cookies, pie... yeah, all better without ice cream making them all soggy.

15. Do you like your hair?

I am fond of my hair, justifiably I believe.  Not that there's nothing I would change if I had a genie who could only grant hair-related wishes, but I'm satisfied with it for the most part.

16. Do you like yourself?

If I met me on a street corner, I would probably run in the opposite direction.  I don't know whether I like myself or not sometimes.

17. Would you go out to eat with George W. Bush?

Probably not.  If he invited me, I'd probably decline in protest or something similarly idealistic.  On the other hand, I might.  I don't like his policies or his philosophy, such as it is, but I might go out to eat with him just so I could fling my drink in his face at a dramatic point.

18. What are you listening to right now?

At the exact moment I'm writing this, nothing.  My brain is always playing music for me though.

19. Are your parents strict?

Depends on your definition.  In some ways, definitely.  They were not permissive about many things.  I didn't get my driver's license until I was way older than my peers, my parents didn't let me have booze under age, or throw wild parties, and I was always supposed to be supervised when they were out of the house.  In other ways, of course, no, but there are reasons for that.

20. Would you go sky diving?

It'd be hard.  I'm not a fan of heights and I don't know if I could bring myself to jump.  Actually, I'm also not a fan of planes, so getting up there would be tough too.  But I do love the idea of flight.  It'd be hard.

21. Do you like cottage cheese?

Not really.  It's like ricotta, which I also don't like.

22. Have you ever met a celebrity?

A few minor ones.  No one worth mentioning.

23. Do you rent movies often?

I don't rent, I take out from the library, but I do that frequently, yes.

24. Is there anything sparkly in the room you're in?

No, not that I can see.

25. How many countries have you visited?

Just the one I'm in right now.

26. Have you made a prank phone call?

Oddly enough, I don't think so.  It never struck me as being all that funny when I was a kid, or maybe it's the parental strictness thing.  I don't like phones anyway.

27. Ever been on a train?

Many times.  I like trains; they're a fun way to travel.

28. Brown or white eggs?

Who gives a fuck?

29. Do you have a cell-phone?

Nope.  Occasionally I wish I had one, but not enough to warrant paying for it.

30. Do you use Chap Stick?

Regularly.  Got to protect those lips.

31. Do you own a gun?

I own a pellet gun.  If I wanted a gun, I could easily get one from family sources, and I've fired guns many times, but I don't want to own one.  Target practice is fun, but guns are dangerous.  I'd love to get back to the shooting range again sometime.

32. Can you use chop sticks?

Maybe not like a native, but I can eat reasonably well with them, including rice and noodles, the bane of the chop stick beginner.

33. Who are you going to be with tonight?

Nobody.  I'm so alone.

34. Are you too forgiving?

The question raises an interesting philosophical point, which is whether or not it is possible to be too forgiving.  Does forgiveness get me into trouble?  Yes.  Does it sometimes cause me to question myself when that isn't needed?  Definitely.  But is forgiveness ever bad?  I would say no, forgiveness is never bad.  Forgiveness doesn't imply absolution, just that you do not harbor hate in your heart for someone because of something they've done.  Universal forgiveness is a saintly quality I can't even hope to achieve.  I forgive people as often as I can, but that doesn't mean I trust them ever again or that I take them back.  And then there are a few people whom I don't think I can ever forgive.  My cross to bear, that.

35. Ever been in love?

Absolutely.  Still am.

36. What is your best friend(s) doing tomorrow (or the next soonest week day)?

Working, probably.

37. Ever have cream puffs?

Yes.  I didn't care for them.

38. Last time you cried?

There was a sappy moment in a show I was watching yesterday which made me tear up.  But for really crying, you'd have to go back to last week when I was having a bad day.

39. What was the last question you asked?

Hell, I don't know.  I'm answering questions here, not asking them.

40. Favorite time of the year?

That's a tough call.  I like certain things about all times of year.  Possibly winter because I prefer cold, but I like being able to go outside without bundling up like a polar explorer too.

41. Do you have any tattoos?

No.  I might someday get one if I nut up and get over my fear of needles and tattoo parlors.  But probably not.  Maybe I'll let Sheri talk me into getting one one of these days.

42. Are you sarcastic?

I've never been asked that question before, let me tell you.

43. Have you ever seen The Butterfly Effect?

No.  Not really ever something I wanted to see.

44. Ever walked into a wall?

Yes.  All the time, actually.

45. Favorite color?

I like black, red, and purple.  Dark colors.

46. Have you ever slapped someone?

Oh yeah.

47. Is your hair curly?

In humid weather, it gets curl and body, but I don't know if I'd qualify it as curly.

48. What was the last CD you bought?

One of Chevelle's albums, I believe Sci-Fi Crimes.  I have bad taste in music, I'm afraid.

49. Do looks matter?

I won't lie.  Yes, they matter.  But not enough.  Looks can make a good thing better, or make a good thing easier to approach and become acquainted with, but in the end, it's not the looks that keep, it's the rest of it.  I've fucked a fair number of good-looking people, but I didn't stay with them because they weren't anything but good-looking.  I'm shallow on the surface, I guess.

50. Could you ever forgive a cheater?

Depends.  It helps if a cheater asks for forgiveness.  If they don't ask, then probably not.  Beyond that, it's a matter of what kind of cheating.  In some relationships, cheating is an emotional thing, not a physical one.  I find it fairly easy to forgive physical cheating, although again, forgiveness simply means I don't hold it against them any more, not that I want them back.  Emotional cheating is harder to forgive.

51. Is your phone bill sky high?

Only because the base charges are ridiculous.  I rarely use the phone.

52. Do you like your life right now?

Not tremendously in some ways.  In others, it's great.

53. Do you sleep with the TV on?

I wish I could, because that's a really good way for me to fall asleep.  But I don't have a TV near my bed.

54. Can you handle the truth?

If I say yes, then I'm lying.  But if I say no, then I can obviously handle the truth, so I'm still lying.  What sort of truth are we talking about here?

55. Do you have good vision?

I might someday need glasses for reading, but my vision is pretty good at present.

56. Do you hate or dislike more than 3 people?

Yes.  Most people I hate are impersonal to me, not people I actually know.  Impersonal hate is fine.  Personal hate, on the other hand, is poison, but I think I might still dislike more than three people I know personally enough to fulfill the requirements of this question.

57. How often do you talk on the phone?

As infrequently as possible.  Mostly to Sveta.

58. The last person you held hands with?

Sveta, definitely, although I can't remember the exact circumstances.  I don't hold hands with Mike or Dad.

59. What are you wearing?

Cotton bikini bottoms, in blue and pink stripes.  Aside from that, sweet fuck all.

60. What is your favorite animal?

I like dogs and have known many fine dogs, but I love cats.

61. Where was your favorite picture taken at?

I don't have a favorite picture; despite my desire for exhibitionism on the blog, I actually hate personal photos.

62. Can you hula hoop?

I lack the coordination.

63. Do you have a job?

Yes, such as it is.

64. What was the most recent thing you bought?

A DVD.

65. Have you ever crawled through a window?

Yes, I used to live on the ground floor in my dorm and I would always go in and out the window.  It's fun.

Now, that was long, and the only way I can keep from having to do things like this when I have nothing more interesting to do is for people to ask me more interesting questions.  I'm very approachable.  The more specific, the better, because I'll be honest, I'm not going to answer a question like, "What's sex like for you?" unless I really feel up to it.  I am happy to try to direct you to the answer if I've already answered a question, though.

Random Sexiness

Recently there hasn't been a whole lot to post about simply because I've had work, Sveta's had work, Dad's had work, and Mike has gone off gallivanting.  Sometimes I go through periods of real diary, but right at the moment, nothing has happened which is different from what usually happens, so I'm going to talk about what usually happens because it's better than talking about nothing.  Or perhaps I'm updating on the usual goings on.  I don't know and I don't think anyone should care as long as I talk about something sexy.

The mosquitoes are out in force and the fact that I have bites on my breasts and inner thighs, among other things, should suggest to the Sherlock Holmes types that I've been outside in very little.  "Observe the grass still caught in her long, red hair, Watson.  This suggests to me that she's rolled off the towel in the heat of passion and hasn't had time to collect herself because someone, possibly the cute teenager who is still licking her lips, has been bringing her to orgasm numerous times.  The game's afoot, old man."  Yes, Sveta, Dad, Mom, Mike (while he was here) and I have taken advantage of a few more moderate days in the recent past to have some evening naked outdoors time.

Sveta loves to watch Mom and Dad make love.  She told me it's the thing which really makes her feel like she's part of the family, more than making love with anyone herself.  She really is starved for family love, poor pet.  When Mom and Dad learned this, they made it a point to make love at least once while she's there whenever she comes to visit.  I know, it's so hard pleasing some guests.  She usually watches for a while, fingers between her legs, and then Mom asks her if she wanted Dad to finish off inside her, to which she always says yes.  So she lies down next to Mom, and Dad shifts over and mounts her, and Mom holds her hand from the side while Dad spends a few minutes making sure Sveta's nice and happy, then finally fills her with his seed.  It's incredibly loving, it makes her feel like a million bucks, and it makes me so ready to get fucked by anything moving that I can barely stand it.

It helped when Mike was here, because he could go after my needs while Mom, Dad, and Sveta had their group.  Now that he's not, I don't generally get any penetration during these events, but I get to eat cum out of Sveta and she gets me off with her tongue, which has become skillful enough to please pretty much any critic at this point.  I remember when she was just starting out, and it's like she's taken to it like a fish to water.

We've also been employing toys now that Mike's not here because Sveta and I can't both get Dad, not most times.  We were actually out back in the shade the other day, ass to ass, with a double dil snaked between us, backing into one another and giggling until the pressure got too much and we had to move to more comfortable positions so we could hold each other and well and truly make love, rather than just fooling around.  Sveta has also tried out some DP with toys, and she says when Mike comes back, she's going to give the main event another try.  I told her she didn't have to if she didn't want to, but she wants to, believe me.  I don't know if it will go any better than the first time, but she's a trooper and wants to see what all the fuss I make is about, and I can't refuse her much of anything.

She has been enjoying my favorite underused erogenous zone.  I'll get a vibe into one hole and my fingers into the other and press the two together.  I can't get her to cum just by doing that, but when I get her really riled up by doing it and then plant a kiss on her clit, she explodes.  I had her up on a pillow, back arched, legs spread wide, and I was teasing her by vibrating her middle wall, and I felt bad eventually and kissed her, and she got so wet that the pillow was pretty much ruined for anything but sex.  It still smells like her; I haven't washed it, I just smell it sometimes.  Maybe that's a little creepy.  Maybe not.  I'm not stealing her panties, at least not to display or sell on eBay (I do steal them to wear them sometimes, but that's different).

I got an embarrassment of riches in the DP department while Mike was here, actually.  I'm almost sated, although each day that goes by without my level of satiety lessens.  Sveta once stopped us in mid-sandwich, gave all three of us a kiss, then went back and stroked Dad's and Mike's balls until they begged her to stop and let them finish up.  They both lasted two or three strokes after that, and then they both just pressed in and fired.  It was really intense, the best simultaneous DP orgasm I've ever had (not that I've had that many; it's a very rare thing for me).  It never happened again, which is probably just as well because I doubt it could have beaten the first time if we all knew what was coming, so to speak.

Speaking of anal, Mike has had a number of toys inserted, although he gets cutely shy about it when Sveta's around, like she's going to judge him or something.  I told him to stop being such an asshat and let her watch, and the second time I handled the dildo in his ass while he handled the cock in hers, then pulled out (what he was thinking I don't know, stupid boy) and splattered her.  It was a geyser.  Ridiculous, and if he'd just kept it inside, she would have loved it.  I'm going to force him to cum in her while I'm playing with his ass as soon as he gets back.  It must be so hard being him.

So, that's pretty much what's happened recently; some fairly normal sexual happiness.  Other things have happened too, but because they aren't terribly interesting, I've ignored them for the purposes of chronicling the sex.  Trust me, you don't want to hear about my daily life.  It's pretty boring on the whole.

Flash Fiction Friday - Confection Connection

didn't stop to think just dove in tongue out and she's writhing under me dark candied bliss going to make it last like the licks on a tootsie pop closer and closer and down and down and she's screaming it or is it me breath in breath out she's melting a feast for the senses and closer and closer and down and down and there's her candy center waiting

---

Got all stream-of-consciousness on that one. To make up for it, please accept the following:

---

She came home to find me covered in chocolate sauce. "Rough day at the office?" I asked.

"Rough day loafing?" she said, grinning. "The computers broke down again, and now we're having to count everyone by hand."

"Poor dear. Well, I've prepared you something special. A feast for the census, you might say." That's when she threw the ice cream spoon at me. Even the sexiest puns hurt sometimes.

---

Yeah, I couldn't resist. Either of them. It's hard to resist chocolate. How can you resist? Go, now, Flash Fiction Friday is waiting, calling you sweetly, its siren song of procrastination and clever verbiage vibrating through your entire being. It is waiting. It hungers for you. Flash Fiction Friday. Flash Fiction Friday. Flash Fiction Friday. I wish I could make this 69 words too, like the others. Oh, wait...

In Keeping With Friday

Reading all the Flash Fiction Friday entries (and why isn't yours among them, by the way?  I bet you'd write a great one) made me wish like hell it was raining, because rain naked is terrific, and rain sex is even better.  It has to be the right kind of rain; it can't be cold or super-hard, but it should be more than just a light mist.

I am not the outdoorsy type, and on hot days, I stay inside with the windows closed, the AC running at full capacity, and probably the curtains drawn.  I am not a sun-worshiper as has no doubt been made plain previously.  But on a rainy day in summer, I'll toss off all my kit and caboodle and head out to the backyard and dance around in it.  Sometimes I put on a long t-shirt with nothing under it because I just like getting that wet too, feeling it stick to me.  I really don't do it for exhibition, but I'm sure anyone who sees me would appreciate it.

Once when I was a teenager I was walking home and the skies opened up and just started pouring down on me, and I wasn't anywhere where I could hide, so I just shrugged and kept walking.  By the time I got home, it was obvious that I wasn't wearing anything under my dress, which wasn't exactly the most chaste number when dry, and when wet became several sheets of tissue paper.  The thing about walking in the rain is that rain is an excellent concealer; either no one is out walking around to see you, or if they're looking from inside, rain tends to blur things.  But when I got home and was about to strip off my wet things, Dad begged me to keep the dress on, we went out back, and he spent half an hour kissing and stroking every square, rain-soaked inch of me without once going near his cock.

The feel of his tongue through the fabric of my dress was intense, particularly on my nipples, which were sensitive in the extreme.  We have a few deck chairs (no deck but the chairs come in handy) and he had me lying back in one of them, feeling the rain and his tongue and fingers.  He didn't take my dress off even when he got me into position and rubbed his cock up and down my body.  It was like there was a barrier between his touch and mine that drove me crazy; I couldn't cum, not until he finally slipped the dress up around my waist and pressed slowly into me.  Our eyes were locked, and I kept my eyes locked with his even as the spasms overtook me, even as the rest of my body was assaulted by the rain and the orgasm and his penetration.  He told me I had this determined look on my face the whole time I was cumming, until he bent down and kissed me, and that suddenly released it all and I arched my back and screamed.  He didn't last long either, not by his standards.  But it was an intense experience, and his cum inside me felt like the rain.

A boyfriend of mine in college took me hiking when I visited his house.  I was underwhelmed, because hiking and I... yeah, we're not pals.  It was only a short walk really, out in the country, and it was nice because it wasn't too hot and the bugs weren't bad at all.  We wound up in a clearing, fucking like wild animals up against a tree (my ass had bark impressions for days), and had just finished up when the sky began to get dark and menacing.  We were far enough from anywhere that there was really no hope of getting anywhere before the storm hit, so we went into the trees and tried to tough it out for a while.  But the rain wasn't letting up, and there wasn't any thunder, and we were pretty wet anyway, so finally we just decided to walk back and get wet.

There's one thing I don't like about rain, and that's when it gets your underwear wet.  So I pulled mine off, somewhat to his surprise, and then decided that if my shirt was going to get wet, I wanted to be bra-less as well, so I pulled off my shirt and bra and then decided not to put the shirt back on.  He laughed and pulled his shirt off too, then asked if this meant we were going to hike naked.  So we did.  We put all our clothing into a backpack which we hoped might be vaguely waterproof, then clad in nothing but our shoes and socks we walked through the rain for about 10 feet before we made it back to the clearing, whereupon we promptly dropped everything and had another hard fuck fetched up against the same tree as the first time.  As we were about halfway through (I don't know what "halfway through" a fuck means, really, but it seemed like it was somewhere in the middle, before the end but after the beginning) the skies miraculously cleared.

Of course, in tossing aside our clothes, we'd managed to get them all wet despite the backpack, so once we finished fucking, we had to walk back wearing dripping wet clothing.  It dried off somewhat, but I was still damp by the time we made it back to civilization (I make it sound as if we were in the wilds of the Outback, when really all it was was an hour into the woods and back).  It was no struggle getting me out of my clothes a second time when we arrived at his house, and we dried each other off via friction, then towels, in that order.

So yes, I love me some summer rain, for sheer joyful nakedness, for fucking, for keeping me inside looking out too.  I like a dreary rainy day, where I can look out at the world and feel like I've got nowhere to be.  Same with snow.  But neither of those things happens all that often anymore.  Still, if it rains the right way soon (and for the farmers' sakes I hope so) I may take Sveta out for a little rainy day activity of our own.

This is recollections because not all that much interesting has been happening around here, although I do plan something in the near future, so keep your eyes peeled for that.  If you can count, you might know why I have things planned.  If not, well, you'll find out when it happens.

Flash Fiction Friday - Two-fer

Two this week because they're both so short and because I wanted to write a poem.

Foreplay

Thunder and a sudden rain storm, or was that her heart and loins? She could feel every wet inch of him through his clothing, crouching, grinding her heat to his, her lips to his. They were driven, beaten, hammered by the pouring drops, everything falling together, the blood running fiercely through them, and drenched in the sky that kept crashing down around them and upon them. Make the rain last, she prayed, as they slid down the embankment into the mud, uncaring. Make it last.

---

Erosion

the sky is a smith

shaping with rain

like wrought metal

driven

beaten

hammered

showing every shining tool mark

did they emerge from the earth

under the sculptor's tools

or are they imperfections

soon to wash away

too much movement for static sculpture

too still to be dancing

---

Two.  Because I'm carrying your dead weight, all you people who don't do Flash Fiction Friday.  Don't you feel even the slightest bit guilty that you're not participating?  For all those people who are participating, you're like unto gods with your mad skillz and I have no hope of eclipsing your talent.

Not too weird this week; just a bit of my blacksmith fetish creeping into the second one.  I hope everyone else's are much more inventive.

Oops, Sorry

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Fireworks R Fun

I love fireworks, which is pretty much the only good thing I have to say about July 4th any more since it was sabotaged by jingoistic conservatives, terrible music, New York City, and corporations.  I'll be honest though, the last time I went to see a fireworks display on the Fourth of July was a long time ago.  I've seen fireworks since, but that was the last Fourth of July display I saw.

The traffic was appalling, but that just meant that Mike and I got to get seriously busy in the back seat.  Mom and Dad put towels over the windows, ostensibly to keep out the sun, but Mike and I viewed it as the perfect opportunity for a back-seat game of Independence Declaration.  He signed his John Hancock internally twice before we got to a parking space and had to pull clothes back on and pile out.  Sheri was too cool for fireworks (I believe she was off having celebrations of her own) and Mari was doing something else, I forget what, so it was Mom, Dad, me, and Mike, with a cooler of lemonade, some sandwiches, and a blanket.

And a huge fucking crowd.  The lawn around the place was covered.  We found a place in the shade about a mile away (maybe not quite that far, but far), set up camp, and Mike and I wolfed down our sandwiches and went running off to try to find some privacy (because for whatever reason we were randy as rabbit sailors on shore leave after the great rabbit celibacy outbreak of 1903).  There really was very little privacy to be found, so we actually wound up back at the car, trying to get it done quickly because it was really fucking hot in there.

We got back and the music had started, so we sat around and listened to music until that got boring, then we played cards for a while.  Mike kept flashing his cock at me, calling it a sky-rocket, promising explosions and so forth.  But there was nowhere to go.  The sky was getting darker, fireworks were upcoming, and the heat was backing off a little.

Once it got dark out, they launched into The Stars and Stripes Forever, which was always the cue for fireworks.  It was so dark that Mike and I started fooling around a little even though there were people quite close around us, not close enough to catch us easily, but if they'd looked hard at us they might have noticed something was up.  When I got his cock out of his pants and started sucking it, Dad turned around and said, "Okay kids, that's enough.  Lexi, come sit with me if we can't trust you to be good."

The fireworks started, and we all leaned back and looked up, and I shifted over and sat in Dad's lap, and lo and behold there was a rocket pressing into my ass as I sat there.  I wiggled a little bit, just to drive him crazy, tried to shift my ass so my dress would ride up, until finally Dad looked at me and asked, "Are you really that desperate?"

I grabbed his hand, still looking at the fireworks, and pressed it between my legs so he could see I had no panties on under my skirt, and he shook his head but laughed and said, "Tell the truth, girly, I'm ready too.  Just keep it nice and easy, don't be flailing around and groaning and screaming, okay?"  I nodded, and he pulled his fly open, let his cock out under my dress, and then we shifted a little until I sank down on him and was just sitting there looking up at the sky filled with fireworks, feeling him throbbing warm inside me.

I wish I could say that we timed it so we both went off at the climax of the display, or when the cannons fired during the 1812 Overture, or something like that, but really, we just sat there and watched and occasionally I would rock a little, or he would press his hips up into mine a bit.  Neither of us actually got off during the display.

When it was over, Mom was all set to pack up, but Dad said, "Lexi and I just want to sit here for a little while; no rush, the traffic will be terrible.  We should just wait until things clear out a little."  Mom gave us a look and then shook her head as if to say, "You're as bad as she is," then she sat down, slipped her hand over to Mike's crotch, and pretty soon she had him out and was stroking him.

Dad and I knew that we had to finish up more quickly that would be possible if we just sat there, so once our section sort of cleared out a little, I got more enthusiastic with my movements and Dad followed suit.  When I saw Mom duck her head down to suck the cream out of Mike's spurting cock, that made me go off, hard, and I was still tingling a little when Dad rolled us over onto our side so he could fuck me harder; half a minute of deeper thrusting took me over the edge again, and he filled me shortly thereafter.  Things were getting pretty deserted on the field at that point and we didn't want to attract too much attention, so we hurriedly cleaned everything up and made our escape.

And that was the last Independence Day fireworks I saw in person.  Since then, we've been setting off our own in our backyard, just little fountains and sparklers and so on.  I really enjoy them, particularly because it means that we're in private so we can do whatever the fuck we want to whomever the fuck we want.  But I do still wonder whether that last time was the cause of our never going to fireworks again, or whether it was just a great way to end.  Maybe both.  I do know that I've gotten less and less happy with picnics during the heat of summer in crowded fields, and while I miss some things about it, I don't miss others.  A good memory though.

Stolen Meme

I stole this from Sephi who stole it from other people, and I'm doing it because I haven't done a Trivia Tuesday in a while, so I've scheduled it for now.  I've probably answered most of these questions before, but what the hell, for newer viewers, right?

1. Fail moment in the last week?

I was asking someone why I hadn't seen her husband around lately, and she told me she was getting a divorce.  Oops.  I hate things like that; that's why I try never to assume.  But they'd been married for a long time, kids and the lot.  It made me embarrassed and sad at the same time because I like both of them.

2. Most memorable job?

Meh.  I've worked some plays which were memorable, but in terms of "job" being memorable, nothing to compete with many people, I'm sure.  I was a terrible bouncer for one night once and almost got myself arrested.  Does that count?

3. Favorite pizza topping?

I like all sorts of things on my pizza, and I couldn't really say I have a favorite.  When all else fails, I go for pepperoni, but I like BBQ on pizza, or Sicilian white pizza (different from your garden variety) or lots of veg, or taco stuff, or just really good mozzarella, fresh plum tomatoes, and basil.  I won't eat olives on a pizza, and I'm not a fan of pineapple either, but I've had some weird-ass pizzas and enjoyed them.  I've eaten pizza made with hummus instead of sauce before.

4. Most embarrassing CD?

Sister Hazel?  Puddle of Mudd?  Four different Hootie and the Blowfish CDs?  I don't know, my taste is really bad.

5. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Yes.  No, wait, I mean, no, why would you think that.  No, I mean... shit, you can't really type sarcasm, it's all in the tone.  Yeah, right.  In the tone.  So yes.  Or not.  What do you think?

6. Favorite ice cream flavor?

There was once this Häagen-Dazs ice cream which was chocolate from these very rare and really strong beans from the rain forest or something, and while I wouldn't step over my own mother to get some because I don't like ice cream that much, I liked that.  But what people don't understand is that things which are cold don't taste as much.  It's the truth.  Chocolate, in particular, doesn't taste as good unless it's at the temperature of the human body.  Seriously, that's the temperature that chocolate tastes best at.  And people wonder if there's a god.

7. What do you miss most?

Right now?  People who aren't here.  If you mean, "What causes you the most amount of anguish when you don't have it?" then I'm not sure.  I'm lucky enough not to have to miss many things.  I do miss some though, but I wouldn't want to quantify.

8. Last thing you ate?

Crappy restaurant food of various buffet varieties.  I think I had a piece of fruit absolutely last, so that's probably what's on top.

9. The first thing you notice about the opposite sex?

Opposite sex?  Silhouette.  Most people see shapes before they see details, and I think that's definitely true about seeing new people.  I notice the general shape first, not because I care that much, just because that's what I see first.  Then I see the face, lips and eyes mostly.  I couldn't describe most people's noses.  But then I'm not a very visual person in a lot of ways.

10. Most painful experience with contacts?

When I was young I heard all sorts of horror stories about how people would wear contacts but they would migrate up behind their eyes and get into their brains and now those people couldn't speak Spanish any more.  Shit like that.  So thank God I never had to wear them.  I wore glasses for a period, but my eyes aren't bad enough to need them.  At some point I'll have to start wearing them again, and even though I know now that contacts have become much better, I still don't think I'd wear them.

11. Movie you want to see?

Toy Story 3.  I have worries, but I've never been disappointed by Pixar, and I know I'd rather see it in the big screen because if I don't and it's good, I'll be sorry.

12. Weirdest thing you've had in bed?

This would probably fall under the category of superlatives, and as I've explained in the past, I have trouble with them because I can never tell exactly what is meant by the superlative.  One girl's weird is another girl's orgasm.  Unless this means weird objects, in which case I've had a copy of Liddell Hart's Strategy personally autographed by Dan Quayle in my bed.  Wow, the prepositions ran together in that sentence.  I have a copy of the book in question, and for some reason it has Dan Quayle's autograph in it, and the book with the autograph was in my bed.  That's kind of odd.  In terms of sex acts, you name it, it's probably been in my bed at some point, except for scat and a few other deviances that I either don't go in for or know better than to do in my bed.

13. What book(s) are you reading? 

I'm reading a collection of Russian literature right now, but I expect to finish that in the next day or two and then start in on something else.

14. Word you edge into every conversation to make yourself sound superior?

This is one of those, "When did you stop having sex with sheep?" type questions; you can't answer it without admitting that you drop 25 cent words into conversations to sound superior.  Some of the people with whom I associate think I do this because they don't know what simple everyday words mean, so when I use a word that doesn't feature in kids books, they assume that I'm trying to play up my intelligence.  What I actually do is use words that don't exist, not to make myself sound smarter, but because I can't think of the actual word I want.  But I do use big words sometimes unconsciously, and I know what they mean.  Scary, right?

15. Name you thought would be really cool to give the fruit of your loins without really thinking it through?

I don't have a fruit of my loins.  My parents tell me that I really wanted to name Mike Dibble, but I was quite young at the time and thought that was the greatest name ever for a boy.  If I have kids (maybe I should be more hopeful and say when, but I'm not feeling hopeful at the moment) it'll be down to what they look like when they're born.  I'm not a fan of naming babies before they are around to be named.  Many people have done that and either changed their minds when they saw the kid or regretted it later.  

16. Thing you think you're slightly too anal about?

I'm pretty anal about collecting series and accumulating data.  Seriously, the series thing is okay, but I will collect data without ever really needing it, ebooks, movies, documents, and file it all away.  I'll archive things like crazy.  If I didn't have a computer and a CD burner, I'd be up a creek.

17. Thing you wish you were slightly more anal about?

Cleanliness?  Organization?  Sleep schedules?  I don't really want to be anal about anything except anal, but I wish I could be more on top of certain details of my life.

18. Proud moment?

I was quite pleased with my work on the last show I did.  Fortunately this doesn't say "proudest" so we avoid the superlative trap.

19. Dish you can cook with confidence?

All sorts of things, depending on the audience.  If I'm not terrified of making a poor impression, I can cook basically anything.  I'm sabotaged by my inner critic.

20. Reason why you're doing a meme instead of a real blog?

Oh yeah?  Fuck you, question.  Fuck you in the eye socket.  I'll do what I want, bitch.

Happy 'Splodey Day!

If you don't happen to be in a place which celebrates July 4th, then you should laugh at us foolish Americans and our silly unsingable national anthem every other day but this one, when we co-opt the 1812 Overture and various marches by Sousa and go all black powder on your asses.

I love fireworks.  I could care less about flag-waving and painting myself red, white, and blue and picnics and patriotic nonsense, but I love me some fireworks.  I also like the 1812 Overture and various marches by Sousa.  And I like my country, just not jingoistically.

Which is why I will be celebrating 'Splodey Day by having Sveta over any minute now, getting naked with the people I love, and having some internal explosions before dark, at which point I will go out and detonate legal fireworks.  We don't go watch fireworks displays because we don't like the heat and crowds and traffic and so forth, which is too bad because I like the big fireworks, but I also like the smaller ones.  And if we stay in our backyard, we can watch fireworks naked, with the possible inclusion of further festivities.  But I am responsible (really, I take firework safety very seriously), so I will be lighting the fireworks with no distractions and there will be no sex while holding sparklers.  A fun time will be had by all.

And then to bed with my favorite teen minx for some long-overdue snuggle time.

I hope that, even if you're not patriotic, even if you think July 4th is a stupid holiday, even if you're not from the US and have your own occasions to set off fireworks, you'll have a good day today.  It's the festive anticipation talking.  Tomorrow, back to cynicism and bitterness.

Flies

I may have asked this question before, but what is up with the flies on men's boxer shorts?  It came back to me when I was wearing a pair of my brother's the other day, and then I wrote it down but didn't have time to do anything about it.

Seriously though, what's up with the flies?  They're huge.  You can't keep them closed (at least I can't, but not that way, sick puppies) and the only reason to have them that big seems, to me anyway, to be because the average man is hung like two horses and a mule.  If so, where are they keeping these men, because I've never met one.  If not, is there something about male urination that I don't know about?  Does it require the exposure of the balls as well as the cock?  If I had a way of pissing standing up with just a small part of my anatomy sticking out, I wouldn't go out of my way to expose more of myself (not in most circumstances, anyway, and speaking as a hypothetical everyman rather than as me, the slut I am).

Not that I mind them myself when I'm not wearing them.  Dealing with tighty-whiteys is way more complicated than boxers when you just want to get a guy's junk out in a hurry.  Honestly, I wish that pants flies were bigger then, with zippers that magically vanished when they weren't needed.  Fucking through the fly of pants is complicated, and blowjobs tend to be less vigorous.  Most of the time, I'd just as soon drop his pants.

And of course, there are amusing things one can do if one is of the female persuasion and wearing a guy's boxers.  I've tried it the other way around, where a guy fucks me through the hole in boxers I'm wearing, and that can be fun for a change, but in the main, it's just annoying that the fly comes open so easily.  Do guys like having their cocks rubbing on their pants?

I'm really just curious.  Any guys out there who can tell me what the fuck is up with your underwear, please do.  I'm not telling you to stop wearing it (unless you're around me, in which case you can lose all your clothes right now, thank you kindly) but what is up with some of its eccentricities?

Flash Fiction Friday - One Small Step

"Houston, we are go for landing." Her breath caught in her throat as she surveyed the terrain, picking the best spot to touch down. What a view. Uncharted territory.

"Roger that, better put on your suit and prepare for extra-vehic," the distorted voice crackled after a moment, delayed by the sluggard radio waves.

She adjusted her attitude, pitched left slightly, until her viewport filled with her target. She licked her lips unconsciously, feeling the dry air suck the moisture away. Her concentration was total. Just seconds to touchdown.

"My God, it's full of stars." Then she laughed, the nervousness in the pit of her stomach escaping as she did so. "I couldn't help myself."

And with a slight shudder, she was down, resting on this new world. But she had not come as a conqueror. Exploration was in her blood, and as she roved about the surface, she could think of nothing but the thrill of finding out exactly what Luna had to offer.

---

Yes, I went there.  I like allusion.  It started out a bit silly, but then I got into it.  I think there will have to be some sexy astronaut cosplay in my future somehow.

Flash Fiction Friday.  That's the long and the short of it.

Something Fun

Sveta can turn her tongue sideways.  Apparently, not everyone can do this.  I guess I assumed because I'd never actually thought about it.  But anyway, she turned it sideways today.

Wait, getting ahead of myself.  We both had days off, and in the evening she and I and Dad went out to eat at a crappy restaurant and then briefly went shopping.  Picked up some fun bargain underwear and a bargain DVD, then came home because what we were doing with the panties in the car was driving Dad crazy.  I half expected him to pull the car over.  In fact, I was aiming for that.  But he's old and not risky any more (kidding, I love you Daddy) so it had to wait until we got home.

With two of us, it means that Dad can give both of us what we want, except for the happy ending.  I let Sveta take the cream simply because she is way behind on that score.  We were both on the floor of the playroom, asses in the air, giggling while he went back and forth a few times, just a few thrusts and then shifting to the other girl.  Then he spent some time on Sveta while he had his fingers inside me, and managed to have us both cumming at the same time before he finally finished off inside her.

We stayed downstairs because we didn't feel like moving, Dad went upstairs to do whatever.  And at that point, when Sveta had finished having a second orgasm after a very thorough cleaning out by my tongue, she started licking me, and suddenly she turned her tongue sideways.  Wham.  It was incredible.  I know it may sound like such a strange thing that I've never done anything like that before, but I guess I've just never tried it myself or had someone else try it.  I can do it, I know.  But it's like curling your tongue: how many people have never thought to bring that into play in the bedroom?  I had, but I'd never given a thought to the idea that turning your tongue might make things feel different.

Suffice to say, it did.  She couldn't keep it up for long because it's not a typical thing to do with your tongue, but it was a totally new experience for me, and when she tired out and finished me up more typically, I had to try it on her.  She was right; it's much harder and you have less control to start with because you're not used to it, but with some practice, it'll definitely be something I'll keep in my bag of tricks.  One thing I did was after I couldn't move my tongue any more, just slipping it in between the lips and feeling it there.  It's tonguing from a whole new angle.

I can't really describe it yet, but maybe after a few more times I'll be able to give a more tactile description.  But you know how, if you stick your tongue in a pussy (assuming this is something you do) the shapes are different, like a square peg in a round hole?  If the tongue is 90 degrees turned, the shapes start to be much more similar.  And the sensation of the tongue licking up and down, only side to side, on your clit... yeah, it may just be that we should have tried eating each other out at an angle before this, but the novelty of being in the same positions but feeling like you're not is interesting.  I won't say explosive or anything; it didn't make me cum right away.  But it was new and exciting.

Now you may know all about this, may be really shocked that I'm acting like I've discovered something new when I should have been doing it for years.  But what can I say; I have experience, but things still surprise me.  That's what's fun about experience anyway; if you experience it all, there's no point in continuing.  It's not like I can go somewhere for training; it's all hands-on experience, and if your partner doesn't know it, you don't get it.  That's why having more than one sexual partner in your lifetime is a must, as far as I'm concerned.  It should be the first thing people do; go out and fuck a few different people before you settle on "the one" just so you bring something to the table.