From the archives:
1. Can you tell when your lover is close to having an orgasm? How can you tell? What are the signs?
Sveta's pretty easy, actually. I can feel the tension building up, and she starts getting wetter and wetter. It's not like a countdown clock or anything; I can't say, "Okay, five more seconds and she's going to cum." But she's pretty easy to tell. If my finger is inside her I can really feel her tensing up. And she flushes too, although that can happen way before she's going to cum so I wouldn't say that's a definite way to tell.
Mike has always been easy too; his breathing changes pace and intensity before he cums. Dad is a harder nut to crack (pun intended). Sometimes he can be perfectly normal, fucking away, and then suddenly it's go time. Other lovers have been more vocal as they got closer, or less vocal. And a lot of my lovers give me warnings before they cum (they're not warning me, but they'll tell me they're getting close) because I guess porn has trained us all to announce our intentions to orgasm before we do so. I don't mind that so much, if it's not obviously something you learned from watching porn. If it's in the course of sex and we're communicating, no biggie.
2. Ladies have you ever seen YOUR g-spot? Men have you actually seen the g-spot?
Seen? Exactly where the heck is my g-spot supposed to be that you can see it without a speculum? I'm not sure whether I believe in a single g-spot anyway; I think it varies from person to person and also from day to day sometimes, to be honest. I've felt what people describe as "the g-spot" with my fingers, but that's not always where the pleasure is. But seen it? Certainly not my own. What kind of contortionist speculum-fetishist do you think I am?
3. Which sexual position do you find most stimulating?
a. missionary
b. woman on top, facing man
c. doggy style
d. other – tell us about it
In terms of pure stimulation... it depends on what kind of stimulation you mean. Missionary is my favorite position, but if I want depth that's usually not the way to go, at least not traditional missionary. I've been fucked in what would I suppose be loosely called missionary position where my legs were up to my chest, and that's fine for depth, but I wouldn't necessarily call that "missionary."
Any position with grinding, like cowgirl or missionary, is great for clit stimulation. Doggy is terrific for a good hard fuck with thrusting. It really depends on the partner. And of course, that's assuming I'm with a man. With a woman, there's all sorts of variables too.
But I think I might find missionary most stimulating because there's a lot of contact. I don't mind if the only skin I feel is cock and a hand, plus occasional touches of hips as he thrusts, but I do like full-body contact, and missionary is no slouch when it comes to stimulation, because depth isn't always the most important thing.
4. When you orgasm, are you:
a. silent
b. make a little noise
c. yell out!
I make a little noise. I'm not a screamer. Definitely moans.
5. A lover orgasms quickly, way before you are even close to having an orgasm. Do you stop the sex once he/she has had an orgasm or do you continue sexual play so you can orgasm too?
What's the situation? In most cases where I would care deeply, my partner isn't going to leave me hanging. Plus, with girls it's totally different; there's got to be some quid pro quo there because a lot of times if I'm eating a girl out, I'm not going to get off before she does no matter how long she takes, so there's definitely the expectation that I will get her attention in return once I'm done with her. Not that all lesbian sex is one girl's head between the other's legs at all, but if that's what's going down, she'll cum and we'll switch (assuming I'm not just getting her off with no expectations, which I do also do). But with a guy, if it's a random fuck and he cums quickly and then shows no interest in continuing to give me any pleasure, I'm probably not going to pursue the issue because fuck him.
Bonus: On average, when you masturbate how long does it take to reach orgasm?
a. Less than 3 minutes
b. 3 – 5 minutes
c. 5 – 10 minutes
d. more than 10 minutes
Are we talking from a cold start? And when does the clock start? Sex isn't just about genitals. But assuming that we're talking either from the moment I start playing with my own pussy or someone else either starts seriously paying attention to it with the intent to cause orgasm, I used to be able to say, pretty reliably, that unless it was terrible, 5-10 minutes was a safe bet. Sometimes way less than that, but 5-10 was my wheelhouse. Nowadays it takes me longer, obviously. And it doesn't have to be 5-10 minutes of continuous action either; if I have the right partner or the right vibe and they're going all out for the whole time, it was usually shorter.
Tuesday, March 28, 2017
Tuesday, March 21, 2017
TMI Foodsday
Because I like food. From the archives:
1. If your sandwich is cut in half on the diagonal, creating two triangles do you bite the hypotenuse or the point?
Point, because if you bite the diagonal you get sandwich on your cheeks. And I don't bite the right-angle point either, because that causes the sandwich to collapse when it gets too thin in the middle. But really, who cuts a sandwich into triangles? I don't cut mine unless they come that way, and then I eat from the point across.
2. Dipping a tortilla chip– do you dip the tip or the side of the chip to scoop the dip?
If the dip is super-spicy, maybe I might dip, but usually I shovel. I like salsa.
3. Do you think you drink too much coffee? How much do you drink daily? What is a “cup” of coffee to you–how many ounces/grams?
I rarely drink coffee. I used to, when I was younger and doing school plus at the theater all night. But now, I reserve it for occasions when I really need it, so it still sort of works, because caffeine stopped working for me a while back. Not because I overindulged at all; I had given it up because I wanted it to work better when I needed it, and for a few years it was fine, but then it just didn't have the kick it used to. But that's true of all stimulants I'm afraid. As well as depressants. I can take a handful of sleeping pills and be wide awake (not that I do that, but you get my hyperbole).
4. Do you take cream in your tea? How many sugars?
Cream is wonderful in tea. But I don't keep it around the house, and I drink tea so rarely. If I'm really treating myself, cream in tea is grand.
As far as sugar, I try very hard not to drink too much sugar because it's meaningless calories that go straight to my belly and thighs and a gal doesn't need that shit. But I love me some extremely sweet iced tea because I'm fairly Southern that way. In hot tea, it's got to be sweet enough to not be bitter, but that varies from tea to tea. I do like a spoon or two.
5. How do you eat a burrito?
a. Pick it up with your hands, bite into an end.
b. Cut it in half, then pick up one half and eat it.
c. Eat it with a fork and knife
d. Open the tortilla, eat the food inside and eat the tortilla last.
e. Other
The burrito is nature's perfect food, developed by Incan scientists to be its own wrapper and delivery mechanism. Okay, maybe not, but seriously, unless it's bigger than my mouth, why would I cut it? It's designed to contain the fillings as I eat it, and cutting it just spills filling everywhere.
Unless, of course, it's a burrito smothered in something, in which case I eat it with a fork (I rarely use knives because growing up we had two knives which actually cut anything and five people who needed them, so I adapted and pretty much use a fork for everything but the toughest meat, unless someone offers me a steak knife or something). Because it would just get messy.
People who deconstruct their food by picking it apart miss the whole wonder of the food: that it has been prepared together so you can eat it together and get all the goodness of all the ingredients together in one bite. That's why we don't just eat each individual ingredient separately-cooked. You wouldn't suck the cheese off the macaroni, would you? Okay, you would. You shine on, you crazy cheese-sucking star you.
6. Pizza…How do you eat a slice?
a. Pick it up and eat it as an open slice.
b. Pick it up and fold it together, then bite into it.
c. Leave it on the plate and eat with a fork and knife.
e. I eat the crust first, then the rest of the slice.
Is it stable? Because some slices hold their own weight, in which case I eat them from the tip until there's just enough to fold over the crust, then I fold and eat from the end (or just eat from the end if the crust is thin and I can get a bit of topping along with). Unless the crust is incredible, in which case I might just eat stem to stern.
If the slice isn't stable and will just droop, I'll do a little origami.
And if it's deep dish, all bets are off and it depends on how messy it is and how neat I'm feeling.
…Why do you eat your pizza like that?
Practicality. I want to eat the crust, but I want a little topping to go with it most times, so I fold over that last bit of topping so I can have topping on the whole thing. If it can't be held up, I'm not going to let it droop into my mouth and get grease all over me and look like a moron, so I fold a bit to make it possible to eat it rationally. And if it's deep dish, I'm not usually a pig so I don't eat what is basically a baked pasta dish with my hands.
Bonus:
What is the weirdest thing that you are into?
I'm going to assume this means weird food because if I don't, we'll be here a while and you can just catch up on my other weirdness in other posts. Also, I hate superlatives.
I like spicy things on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I put Montreal Spicy Steak Seasoning on PB&J, or just cracked pepper. I put sriracha on peanut butter when I have no jelly because it's both sweet and spicy. But I really like cracked pepper and sweetness. I spent a long time trying to figure out how to infuse honey with the taste of cracked pepper, but was never able to figure it out. But fresh pepper and honey... yummy.
Bonus, bonus:
Do you care if your different foods, on a plate, touch each other? Yes!?! What’s that all about?
As I said above, part of the joy of cooking is mixing flavors. I don't always just mush everything on my plate into a pate and then eat scoops of it, but I do like to mingle flavors on the plate. If there's meat and veg and starch, I'll take a bit of each with each bite.
I might not mix everything, but I don't care much if the vast majority of things touch. I wouldn't put sushi and cheese on the same plate, though, if we're going to get picayune. And some condiments go with some things, and others with others. And I don't like cranberry sauce at Thanksgiving. Give me hot sauce or chutney any day. I do care about flavor combos, but not in the, "Eliminate them all," sense.
1. If your sandwich is cut in half on the diagonal, creating two triangles do you bite the hypotenuse or the point?
Point, because if you bite the diagonal you get sandwich on your cheeks. And I don't bite the right-angle point either, because that causes the sandwich to collapse when it gets too thin in the middle. But really, who cuts a sandwich into triangles? I don't cut mine unless they come that way, and then I eat from the point across.
2. Dipping a tortilla chip– do you dip the tip or the side of the chip to scoop the dip?
If the dip is super-spicy, maybe I might dip, but usually I shovel. I like salsa.
3. Do you think you drink too much coffee? How much do you drink daily? What is a “cup” of coffee to you–how many ounces/grams?
I rarely drink coffee. I used to, when I was younger and doing school plus at the theater all night. But now, I reserve it for occasions when I really need it, so it still sort of works, because caffeine stopped working for me a while back. Not because I overindulged at all; I had given it up because I wanted it to work better when I needed it, and for a few years it was fine, but then it just didn't have the kick it used to. But that's true of all stimulants I'm afraid. As well as depressants. I can take a handful of sleeping pills and be wide awake (not that I do that, but you get my hyperbole).
4. Do you take cream in your tea? How many sugars?
Cream is wonderful in tea. But I don't keep it around the house, and I drink tea so rarely. If I'm really treating myself, cream in tea is grand.
As far as sugar, I try very hard not to drink too much sugar because it's meaningless calories that go straight to my belly and thighs and a gal doesn't need that shit. But I love me some extremely sweet iced tea because I'm fairly Southern that way. In hot tea, it's got to be sweet enough to not be bitter, but that varies from tea to tea. I do like a spoon or two.
5. How do you eat a burrito?
a. Pick it up with your hands, bite into an end.
b. Cut it in half, then pick up one half and eat it.
c. Eat it with a fork and knife
d. Open the tortilla, eat the food inside and eat the tortilla last.
e. Other
The burrito is nature's perfect food, developed by Incan scientists to be its own wrapper and delivery mechanism. Okay, maybe not, but seriously, unless it's bigger than my mouth, why would I cut it? It's designed to contain the fillings as I eat it, and cutting it just spills filling everywhere.
Unless, of course, it's a burrito smothered in something, in which case I eat it with a fork (I rarely use knives because growing up we had two knives which actually cut anything and five people who needed them, so I adapted and pretty much use a fork for everything but the toughest meat, unless someone offers me a steak knife or something). Because it would just get messy.
People who deconstruct their food by picking it apart miss the whole wonder of the food: that it has been prepared together so you can eat it together and get all the goodness of all the ingredients together in one bite. That's why we don't just eat each individual ingredient separately-cooked. You wouldn't suck the cheese off the macaroni, would you? Okay, you would. You shine on, you crazy cheese-sucking star you.
6. Pizza…How do you eat a slice?
a. Pick it up and eat it as an open slice.
b. Pick it up and fold it together, then bite into it.
c. Leave it on the plate and eat with a fork and knife.
e. I eat the crust first, then the rest of the slice.
Is it stable? Because some slices hold their own weight, in which case I eat them from the tip until there's just enough to fold over the crust, then I fold and eat from the end (or just eat from the end if the crust is thin and I can get a bit of topping along with). Unless the crust is incredible, in which case I might just eat stem to stern.
If the slice isn't stable and will just droop, I'll do a little origami.
And if it's deep dish, all bets are off and it depends on how messy it is and how neat I'm feeling.
…Why do you eat your pizza like that?
Practicality. I want to eat the crust, but I want a little topping to go with it most times, so I fold over that last bit of topping so I can have topping on the whole thing. If it can't be held up, I'm not going to let it droop into my mouth and get grease all over me and look like a moron, so I fold a bit to make it possible to eat it rationally. And if it's deep dish, I'm not usually a pig so I don't eat what is basically a baked pasta dish with my hands.
Bonus:
What is the weirdest thing that you are into?
I'm going to assume this means weird food because if I don't, we'll be here a while and you can just catch up on my other weirdness in other posts. Also, I hate superlatives.
I like spicy things on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I put Montreal Spicy Steak Seasoning on PB&J, or just cracked pepper. I put sriracha on peanut butter when I have no jelly because it's both sweet and spicy. But I really like cracked pepper and sweetness. I spent a long time trying to figure out how to infuse honey with the taste of cracked pepper, but was never able to figure it out. But fresh pepper and honey... yummy.
Bonus, bonus:
Do you care if your different foods, on a plate, touch each other? Yes!?! What’s that all about?
As I said above, part of the joy of cooking is mixing flavors. I don't always just mush everything on my plate into a pate and then eat scoops of it, but I do like to mingle flavors on the plate. If there's meat and veg and starch, I'll take a bit of each with each bite.
I might not mix everything, but I don't care much if the vast majority of things touch. I wouldn't put sushi and cheese on the same plate, though, if we're going to get picayune. And some condiments go with some things, and others with others. And I don't like cranberry sauce at Thanksgiving. Give me hot sauce or chutney any day. I do care about flavor combos, but not in the, "Eliminate them all," sense.
Tuesday, March 14, 2017
Less Surprising Events at Dance Recital
The recital was Sunday. As far as I knew, Evan's wife would be back in town. I hadn't seen him. I was expecting to have a long, uneventful day of respectfully ogling dancers from a distance.
I'm fine with ogling dancers from a distance.
But when I got there, Evan was there with his daughter. Huh. He said hello, gave me a little look which said, "Can't talk while people are around." Okay. It seemed slightly ominous. Great. Just what I needed.
But it turned out that he was just being cautious. He caught me in the hallway, away from the crowd, gave me a peck on the cheek, and told me what was up. He told his wife he'd drop off their daughter, so sweet, so very noble. Yeah, no. He wanted to see me.
I do not want to be a regular piece on the side. And I was at work. But... come on, he's cute, I'm really tempted, and he doesn't know where I live or have my number. So I was a little flattered. I mean, he made it clear that he was mostly just still turned on by me letting him fuck my ass, but still.
He and his wife were coming to see the evening show. So I figured there wasn't much chance of him wanting anything more than seeing me, probably trying to keep him in my mind so maybe at some later point, etc. But when I asked him whether he was going to dinner with wife and daughter, he said probably not, that she wasn't coming until closer to show time and daughter would go out with friends. So...
Well, the promise of something for dinner kept me going through the matinee. I hate matinees, mostly because they require me to be awake. I watched with interest, or at least that's probably what it looked like. I was deeply absorbed in my job. That's the ticket. I was in no way horny as hell and ogling like crazy.
After the show, when everyone had cleared out, I "went to get some dinner." Evan was in the lobby. There were a few other people still there, and I just have him a look and headed to a more private hallway again. He showed up a few moments later, and we discussed, in hushed tones, where we could go and what I was desperate for him to do to me once we got there. I had my hand in his pants, he had his on my ass. The deal had already been closed once (well, three times) and there was no need for subtlety. But there was still a decent chance that someone would walk in and catch us, and while he had more to lose than I did, it still wouldn't do for me to get caught canoodling on company time.
Fortunately there are plenty of places and I have keys. So we found a better location, after I revved his motor up a little by whispering in his ear (and a bit of tongue as well, which turned him on but which he made me stop because he was really afraid he'd get caught). We didn't have a long, leisurely time, so once the door was secured, he dropped his pants immediately.
"Do we have time for two?" I asked him, batting my eyes.
"If we hurry." That's not normally something I want to hear, but in this case, I wanted it hard and fast and as much as possible. I pulled my pants down too, then my panties, and knelt on the floor.
"Get to it then." He was rolling on a condom, and I said, "You don't need to do that... if you don't want to..." I'm not a good person. He was being responsible.
"I... I'd like to, but..."
"It's okay, it's okay." He was apologetic, but I shushed him. "I like to feel cum inside me, but I just need you to fuck me, okay?"
Yeah, probably should have kept my mouth shut. I get it. He's married, and if I were him I'd be worried that a girl like me might have something contagious. Plus maybe it's a guilt thing. Maybe it's different in his mind if he uses a condom. Plus, while I know I'm not going to get pregnant, he doesn't.
Anyway, I was a little worried that I'd killed the mood, but after a few more moments of awkwardness, he got the condom on and slipped into me. God, a cock inside me is a wonderful thing.
After a few thrusts, he slowed down a little and I thought he was going to cum already. But then he asked, "Do you think... I mean, I know it's quick, but... can I..."
"Just tell me what you want me to do. Just fuck me any way you want."
"Can I fuck your ass again?"
"Fuck me, fuck my ass, take me hard!" I had been expecting it, actually. He talked enough about it before. And I wanted anal.
"You want it, don't you?"
"Yes, please, I want you to fuck my tight little asshole." I was getting submissive again, and enjoying it.
"Beg for it. Beg for Daddy to fuck your ass."
Okay, so that was it. I wonder how many girls he has slap him at this point. Either that, or he's a good judge of character. Because I was totally down for it, even though the age difference isn't there. Besides, I'd just spent all morning watching dancers. If I'd had a tutu...
"Please, fuck my ass, Daddy." In hindsight, it was a little silly; we were both whispering all of this. "You want a dancer? Make me dance on your cock, Daddy."
That last bit of improv was for my benefit as well, but boy did it work. He practically growled, leaned down and kissed my neck fiercely, then pulled back and pressed his cock into my ass, hard and fast. I had a tiny, tiny twinge, just enough to curl my toes, but very nice, as he started thrusting hard, deeper and deeper, one hand gripping my waist, the other sliding up and taking my hair in a fist, not pulling hard, but making me arch my back. Sloppy, hard, and forceful anal, and it was wonderful.
He pulled out after a minute or two, tossed the condom away without worrying about it, and then shot ropes of semen into my ass. "Did you like that?" he asked.
Well, everything except that now I had to clean up. "I loved it, Daddy."
"God, you are just the best. I can't believe you're okay with this."
"Evan, I like being ordered around a little. And I don't care if you want me to call you Rodrigo." See, comedy is my fallback. Because I could sense an awkward conversation coming on.
He laughed and for a brief moment I thought that was going to be that. Then he said, "Be right back. I made a mess." Okay, all good, being a gentleman and getting me something to clean up cum. I appreciate that.
He came back with some paper towels, after longer than I would have liked; my knees were starting to hurt. But he wiped me down gently, and I was able to pull my pants off completely and sit on them. He obviously had pulled his pants back up and sat down too, and started nuzzling my neck, running his hands over my breasts, still covered by my blouse.
"So you're not creeped out by me?" he said, his hand sliding lower and then up under the fabric.
"Why?" I arched my back a little, let him slip my blouse up over my chest, exposing my bra.
"All the 'Daddy' stuff. I mean, I wouldn't have asked, but..."
"I liked it." Which is true, although probably for reasons other than what he assumed. "Sometimes I like being a little girl for a guy, you know."
He slipped his fingers under my bra and stroked the underside of my breast. "I don't want you to think that I feel that way about my daughter. At all. I just... I think about it sometimes, not her, but all those cute friends..."
"Me too. Girls that age are hard not to stare at. I remember when I was that age, I would have loved to get you inside me." That was the right thing to say, even if it was true. He pulled my top off and kissed me again.
"I wish I'd known you then. God, you're gorgeous, and you know what to do."
He got my bra off and started kissing my breasts, then sucked hard at my nipple until I had to stifle a squeal. "Want to know a secret?" I whispered, but didn't wait for him to answer because that would mean he wasn't using his mouth for better purposes. "If I were you, I wouldn't be able to keep my eyes off them either. Even your daughter. Even though I'm not you, I would still love to show them a trick or two."
"Really? You go for girls too?"
"Fuck yeah. I spent all morning eyefucking them."
"God, if I could see you with... I wouldn't do anything, but damn would it be sexy." I realized his other hand, which I had lost track of, was sliding between my legs and stroking my wetness. Which was plenty wet.
"You'd like to see me with your daughter?" I couldn't resist. "Stripping every inch of her taut little teen body?" He didn't say anything, but his finger slipped into me and stroked. "Spreading those cute legs, letting you see it all. She's probably got cute little tits."
"God, yes," he breathed into my ear.
"And a tiny, tight, pink, virgin pussy?"
"Yes."
"And you could watch as I ate that cute pink pussy until she was screaming with pleasure. And then... I'd call you over, and she'd look up at you and say, "Please Daddy, please make me a woman."
"Yes, yes!" His finger was going crazy inside me. I was incredibly turned on by all of this, but I guarantee you he was more turned on. And here I was, totally naked, and he was totally clothed.
"Show me what you want to do. Show me, Daddy." I lay back and spread my legs. "Come on, Daddy, fuck me."
He practically tore his pants getting them off, pulled off his boxer briefs, and got between my legs. "Here I come, baby. Daddy's going to fill that cute little pussy with his big cock." He was getting into it. Maybe a little too into it: his voice was louder than I would have liked. But I wanted that cock more than I wanted him to be quiet.
"Yes Daddy, yes." And he mounted me, slowly pressing in until he was buried inside me.
There's a part of my mind which does commentary no matter how turned on I am. And that part took delight in commenting that Evan had better not go this quickly if he actually deflowers his daughter. But I didn't say any of that, of course.
He was gentler than he had been with me at first, until I begged him, "Harder Daddy, harder! Fuck your baby so hard!" He leaned into it then, his hips pistoning into mine, then collapsing onto me, my breasts rubbing harshly against the fabric of his shirt as he ground into me, kissing me hard, his arms gathering me up against him.
"I'm going to cum, baby. I'm going to cum in your little pussy." I didn't get a chance to say anything before he pressed and held, shaking, and I felt him explode in me...
And realized that he wasn't wearing a condom. I think he realized it too, but I just said, "Yes Daddy, fill me with your cum!" And he kissed me again, roughly, and pressed harder into me like if he was going to do it, he was going to really do it.
After he pulled back, he snapped out of it. "Oh Christ, I didn't put on... Shit."
"Honey, it's fine. I'm not going to get pregnant and I don't have anything."
"I never... I've never... Except with my wife, I mean. Shit."
I had to calm him down. I assured him over and over that it was fine. He assured me, once he calmed down a bit, that he wasn't worried that he had anything. "I haven't had another woman since my last checkup. I just... I promised myself I would always use protection when I..."
"Do you do this often?"
"No... I love my wife and my life, but sometimes... it started when I met this woman at a conference for work. We had a few drinks, got a little drunk, and she started coming on to me. And I... I love my wife, but we don't have a lot of sex. And we basically were exclusive through high school, went to the same college, got married, had our daughter, and I..."
"You've got needs."
"Yeah." He looked a little sheepish. "I watch a lot of porn."
"Me too. No biggie."
"My wife doesn't think so. I have to hide it."
"So you went for it?"
"I wasn't going to, at first. But it was nice to be attractive to someone. So we went back to my hotel and fucked instead of going to the evening presentation. God, I remember she had condoms; I hadn't bought one in years. When I was in high school I used to carry one around like a lucky charm, never used it. But after that, I started carrying them again."
"Did it improve your luck?"
"Oh yeah." He laughed. "Mostly with hookers. If I go out of town on business, sometimes I work up the courage to find a hooker. That's been most of it. And I don't really count those because it's like business."
"So why'd you hit on me?"
"You're sexy. I wasn't at first, but then you were talking to me and we seemed like we were hitting it off, and then my daughter wasn't going to be home either. I've never done this like this. It's always been one-time things out of town."
"Do you like hookers because they'll let you play Daddy?"
"I can't really afford anything special. They don't look as good as you, believe me."
"Or as good as her?"
"Look, I fantasize a little, okay?" He seemed to be getting defensive, so I calmed him down again. "I don't, with her. Mostly it's about her friends, you know. Sometimes I think about her with another guy. I would never do anything like that. But sometimes I wonder if she's gone all the way with a guy, and what that would be like to watch. To make sure he did it right. That sort of thing."
I assured him that I wasn't judging, and that the whole thing had been super hot. And then we checked the time and it had been longer than it should have. We both wanted another, but I discovered that my pants were covered in cum and I had to fix that pronto. So we separated, him one way, me the other.
Fortunately I know where the costumes are, and if anyone noticed that I came back from dinner wearing different pants, they didn't say anything (I had a story prepared about spilling something all ready to go, but never had to use it). I didn't see Evan or his wife afterward; I guess they went out with their daughter or something.
He knows where I work, but the recital is over and I have no idea when that company will be back. Probably not until autumn. And he has no way of contacting me. So clean break? I think probably. For the best. He was fun, and he was no slouch in the sack, but I don't need drama and I don't need to be a side piece.
But damn if I wouldn't love to share him and his daughter. That would be hotter than hot. I can't complain, of course; I've gotten way better than that in my time, and I'm pretty sure he's just got a fantasy life. Being hard up and around teen girls all the time is tough, and it's bound to mess with your head a little.
It's going to be rough for him though, now that he's sampled the rara avis that is a girl who likes anal. Or rather, a girl who's both willing to admit she likes anal and will give it up to a random guy. I feel both good about giving him something special and bad about giving him something to wish for.
All I can say is, he'd better not start showing up randomly at my work. Because I will shut that shit down. I don't need clingy.
I'm fine with ogling dancers from a distance.
But when I got there, Evan was there with his daughter. Huh. He said hello, gave me a little look which said, "Can't talk while people are around." Okay. It seemed slightly ominous. Great. Just what I needed.
But it turned out that he was just being cautious. He caught me in the hallway, away from the crowd, gave me a peck on the cheek, and told me what was up. He told his wife he'd drop off their daughter, so sweet, so very noble. Yeah, no. He wanted to see me.
I do not want to be a regular piece on the side. And I was at work. But... come on, he's cute, I'm really tempted, and he doesn't know where I live or have my number. So I was a little flattered. I mean, he made it clear that he was mostly just still turned on by me letting him fuck my ass, but still.
He and his wife were coming to see the evening show. So I figured there wasn't much chance of him wanting anything more than seeing me, probably trying to keep him in my mind so maybe at some later point, etc. But when I asked him whether he was going to dinner with wife and daughter, he said probably not, that she wasn't coming until closer to show time and daughter would go out with friends. So...
Well, the promise of something for dinner kept me going through the matinee. I hate matinees, mostly because they require me to be awake. I watched with interest, or at least that's probably what it looked like. I was deeply absorbed in my job. That's the ticket. I was in no way horny as hell and ogling like crazy.
After the show, when everyone had cleared out, I "went to get some dinner." Evan was in the lobby. There were a few other people still there, and I just have him a look and headed to a more private hallway again. He showed up a few moments later, and we discussed, in hushed tones, where we could go and what I was desperate for him to do to me once we got there. I had my hand in his pants, he had his on my ass. The deal had already been closed once (well, three times) and there was no need for subtlety. But there was still a decent chance that someone would walk in and catch us, and while he had more to lose than I did, it still wouldn't do for me to get caught canoodling on company time.
Fortunately there are plenty of places and I have keys. So we found a better location, after I revved his motor up a little by whispering in his ear (and a bit of tongue as well, which turned him on but which he made me stop because he was really afraid he'd get caught). We didn't have a long, leisurely time, so once the door was secured, he dropped his pants immediately.
"Do we have time for two?" I asked him, batting my eyes.
"If we hurry." That's not normally something I want to hear, but in this case, I wanted it hard and fast and as much as possible. I pulled my pants down too, then my panties, and knelt on the floor.
"Get to it then." He was rolling on a condom, and I said, "You don't need to do that... if you don't want to..." I'm not a good person. He was being responsible.
"I... I'd like to, but..."
"It's okay, it's okay." He was apologetic, but I shushed him. "I like to feel cum inside me, but I just need you to fuck me, okay?"
Yeah, probably should have kept my mouth shut. I get it. He's married, and if I were him I'd be worried that a girl like me might have something contagious. Plus maybe it's a guilt thing. Maybe it's different in his mind if he uses a condom. Plus, while I know I'm not going to get pregnant, he doesn't.
Anyway, I was a little worried that I'd killed the mood, but after a few more moments of awkwardness, he got the condom on and slipped into me. God, a cock inside me is a wonderful thing.
After a few thrusts, he slowed down a little and I thought he was going to cum already. But then he asked, "Do you think... I mean, I know it's quick, but... can I..."
"Just tell me what you want me to do. Just fuck me any way you want."
"Can I fuck your ass again?"
"Fuck me, fuck my ass, take me hard!" I had been expecting it, actually. He talked enough about it before. And I wanted anal.
"You want it, don't you?"
"Yes, please, I want you to fuck my tight little asshole." I was getting submissive again, and enjoying it.
"Beg for it. Beg for Daddy to fuck your ass."
Okay, so that was it. I wonder how many girls he has slap him at this point. Either that, or he's a good judge of character. Because I was totally down for it, even though the age difference isn't there. Besides, I'd just spent all morning watching dancers. If I'd had a tutu...
"Please, fuck my ass, Daddy." In hindsight, it was a little silly; we were both whispering all of this. "You want a dancer? Make me dance on your cock, Daddy."
That last bit of improv was for my benefit as well, but boy did it work. He practically growled, leaned down and kissed my neck fiercely, then pulled back and pressed his cock into my ass, hard and fast. I had a tiny, tiny twinge, just enough to curl my toes, but very nice, as he started thrusting hard, deeper and deeper, one hand gripping my waist, the other sliding up and taking my hair in a fist, not pulling hard, but making me arch my back. Sloppy, hard, and forceful anal, and it was wonderful.
He pulled out after a minute or two, tossed the condom away without worrying about it, and then shot ropes of semen into my ass. "Did you like that?" he asked.
Well, everything except that now I had to clean up. "I loved it, Daddy."
"God, you are just the best. I can't believe you're okay with this."
"Evan, I like being ordered around a little. And I don't care if you want me to call you Rodrigo." See, comedy is my fallback. Because I could sense an awkward conversation coming on.
He laughed and for a brief moment I thought that was going to be that. Then he said, "Be right back. I made a mess." Okay, all good, being a gentleman and getting me something to clean up cum. I appreciate that.
He came back with some paper towels, after longer than I would have liked; my knees were starting to hurt. But he wiped me down gently, and I was able to pull my pants off completely and sit on them. He obviously had pulled his pants back up and sat down too, and started nuzzling my neck, running his hands over my breasts, still covered by my blouse.
"So you're not creeped out by me?" he said, his hand sliding lower and then up under the fabric.
"Why?" I arched my back a little, let him slip my blouse up over my chest, exposing my bra.
"All the 'Daddy' stuff. I mean, I wouldn't have asked, but..."
"I liked it." Which is true, although probably for reasons other than what he assumed. "Sometimes I like being a little girl for a guy, you know."
He slipped his fingers under my bra and stroked the underside of my breast. "I don't want you to think that I feel that way about my daughter. At all. I just... I think about it sometimes, not her, but all those cute friends..."
"Me too. Girls that age are hard not to stare at. I remember when I was that age, I would have loved to get you inside me." That was the right thing to say, even if it was true. He pulled my top off and kissed me again.
"I wish I'd known you then. God, you're gorgeous, and you know what to do."
He got my bra off and started kissing my breasts, then sucked hard at my nipple until I had to stifle a squeal. "Want to know a secret?" I whispered, but didn't wait for him to answer because that would mean he wasn't using his mouth for better purposes. "If I were you, I wouldn't be able to keep my eyes off them either. Even your daughter. Even though I'm not you, I would still love to show them a trick or two."
"Really? You go for girls too?"
"Fuck yeah. I spent all morning eyefucking them."
"God, if I could see you with... I wouldn't do anything, but damn would it be sexy." I realized his other hand, which I had lost track of, was sliding between my legs and stroking my wetness. Which was plenty wet.
"You'd like to see me with your daughter?" I couldn't resist. "Stripping every inch of her taut little teen body?" He didn't say anything, but his finger slipped into me and stroked. "Spreading those cute legs, letting you see it all. She's probably got cute little tits."
"God, yes," he breathed into my ear.
"And a tiny, tight, pink, virgin pussy?"
"Yes."
"And you could watch as I ate that cute pink pussy until she was screaming with pleasure. And then... I'd call you over, and she'd look up at you and say, "Please Daddy, please make me a woman."
"Yes, yes!" His finger was going crazy inside me. I was incredibly turned on by all of this, but I guarantee you he was more turned on. And here I was, totally naked, and he was totally clothed.
"Show me what you want to do. Show me, Daddy." I lay back and spread my legs. "Come on, Daddy, fuck me."
He practically tore his pants getting them off, pulled off his boxer briefs, and got between my legs. "Here I come, baby. Daddy's going to fill that cute little pussy with his big cock." He was getting into it. Maybe a little too into it: his voice was louder than I would have liked. But I wanted that cock more than I wanted him to be quiet.
"Yes Daddy, yes." And he mounted me, slowly pressing in until he was buried inside me.
There's a part of my mind which does commentary no matter how turned on I am. And that part took delight in commenting that Evan had better not go this quickly if he actually deflowers his daughter. But I didn't say any of that, of course.
He was gentler than he had been with me at first, until I begged him, "Harder Daddy, harder! Fuck your baby so hard!" He leaned into it then, his hips pistoning into mine, then collapsing onto me, my breasts rubbing harshly against the fabric of his shirt as he ground into me, kissing me hard, his arms gathering me up against him.
"I'm going to cum, baby. I'm going to cum in your little pussy." I didn't get a chance to say anything before he pressed and held, shaking, and I felt him explode in me...
And realized that he wasn't wearing a condom. I think he realized it too, but I just said, "Yes Daddy, fill me with your cum!" And he kissed me again, roughly, and pressed harder into me like if he was going to do it, he was going to really do it.
After he pulled back, he snapped out of it. "Oh Christ, I didn't put on... Shit."
"Honey, it's fine. I'm not going to get pregnant and I don't have anything."
"I never... I've never... Except with my wife, I mean. Shit."
I had to calm him down. I assured him over and over that it was fine. He assured me, once he calmed down a bit, that he wasn't worried that he had anything. "I haven't had another woman since my last checkup. I just... I promised myself I would always use protection when I..."
"Do you do this often?"
"No... I love my wife and my life, but sometimes... it started when I met this woman at a conference for work. We had a few drinks, got a little drunk, and she started coming on to me. And I... I love my wife, but we don't have a lot of sex. And we basically were exclusive through high school, went to the same college, got married, had our daughter, and I..."
"You've got needs."
"Yeah." He looked a little sheepish. "I watch a lot of porn."
"Me too. No biggie."
"My wife doesn't think so. I have to hide it."
"So you went for it?"
"I wasn't going to, at first. But it was nice to be attractive to someone. So we went back to my hotel and fucked instead of going to the evening presentation. God, I remember she had condoms; I hadn't bought one in years. When I was in high school I used to carry one around like a lucky charm, never used it. But after that, I started carrying them again."
"Did it improve your luck?"
"Oh yeah." He laughed. "Mostly with hookers. If I go out of town on business, sometimes I work up the courage to find a hooker. That's been most of it. And I don't really count those because it's like business."
"So why'd you hit on me?"
"You're sexy. I wasn't at first, but then you were talking to me and we seemed like we were hitting it off, and then my daughter wasn't going to be home either. I've never done this like this. It's always been one-time things out of town."
"Do you like hookers because they'll let you play Daddy?"
"I can't really afford anything special. They don't look as good as you, believe me."
"Or as good as her?"
"Look, I fantasize a little, okay?" He seemed to be getting defensive, so I calmed him down again. "I don't, with her. Mostly it's about her friends, you know. Sometimes I think about her with another guy. I would never do anything like that. But sometimes I wonder if she's gone all the way with a guy, and what that would be like to watch. To make sure he did it right. That sort of thing."
I assured him that I wasn't judging, and that the whole thing had been super hot. And then we checked the time and it had been longer than it should have. We both wanted another, but I discovered that my pants were covered in cum and I had to fix that pronto. So we separated, him one way, me the other.
Fortunately I know where the costumes are, and if anyone noticed that I came back from dinner wearing different pants, they didn't say anything (I had a story prepared about spilling something all ready to go, but never had to use it). I didn't see Evan or his wife afterward; I guess they went out with their daughter or something.
He knows where I work, but the recital is over and I have no idea when that company will be back. Probably not until autumn. And he has no way of contacting me. So clean break? I think probably. For the best. He was fun, and he was no slouch in the sack, but I don't need drama and I don't need to be a side piece.
But damn if I wouldn't love to share him and his daughter. That would be hotter than hot. I can't complain, of course; I've gotten way better than that in my time, and I'm pretty sure he's just got a fantasy life. Being hard up and around teen girls all the time is tough, and it's bound to mess with your head a little.
It's going to be rough for him though, now that he's sampled the rara avis that is a girl who likes anal. Or rather, a girl who's both willing to admit she likes anal and will give it up to a random guy. I feel both good about giving him something special and bad about giving him something to wish for.
All I can say is, he'd better not start showing up randomly at my work. Because I will shut that shit down. I don't need clingy.
TMI Tuesday
From the archives. I'm going to preface my remarks by saying once again that many of these answers are related to my condition, so I'll probably talk about befores and afters quite a bit.
1. From erotica to sex blogs everyone seems to be having intense orgasms. Do you feel like you are experiencing the same intense orgasmic waves everyone talks about?
Now, no. My body won't let it last long enough to go into waves, and anything intense enough to do so hurts like a motherfucker.
Previously, not every time. Those intense, bone-shattering Os that everyone talks about are mostly fantasy, and if you believe that it's your right to have one every time, you are probably going to be disappointed. Some people are lucky, but most of us will have a whole range of orgasms (guys and gals).
Waves don't necessarily mean multiples either. Sometimes you get lucky and it's both, but a lot of the time for me a multiple O is a sharp O followed by several smaller ones, like aftershocks. I'm not bashing this at all; a multiple is great and I love them. But I can also have intense single orgasms that go on for ages which really do the whole "wave" thing, but there's no drop between wakes so I wouldn't call them multiples. I light up, I stay lit up though the lights may flicker a little.
On very rare occasions I've had waves followed by more waves when he or she hit just the right button and started the process over again. But there was a definite intermission where I wasn't orgasming before the next one hit.
2. At the beginning of our sexual lives, we are often let down because it feels like nothing in comparison to what we see in films and magazines. Sexual pleasure is something you learn more about as you get older. How have you learned to cultivate the pleasure that you feel?
I have, now more than ever. Before the latest unpleasantness, practice definitely makes perfect, and I practice a lot. Still do. But I think if you're judging an orgasm based on words or images you're getting it all wrong. Orgasms are personal and they're hard to put into words or images.
That said, I know what I like, although I try new things to expand my repertoire. I prefer penetration to straight clit stim, although these days I find that clit stim gives me the kind of orgasm I can enjoy without hurting myself. But penetration alone often won't cut it either. And while I absolutely love the feeling of anal, I generally can't cum from anal alone.
I like width in a cock more than I like depth, but I don't like a cock to be too wide. I like to feel full, not spread, which is why I've never cared for fisting. And, sad to say, meaningless sex doesn't get me off as well as meaningful, so there's definitely a mental component to it as well.
3. In the last 3 years, has your sexual pleasure:
a. waned
b. stayed the same
c. increased, enhanced, improved
My orgasms have gone down like a lead balloon, but the question of sexual pleasure is further down, so I'll just say that it has in some ways waned and in some ways increased.
4. If you are feeling much more sexual pleasure than your lover do you feel the need to make up the deficit or just live in the moment and enjoy what has been given to you?
Depends on the lover. If we're talking random one-night-stand-type, then I'm pretty selfish, particularly if they haven't given me good reason to be other than that. Still, I do try to give as good as I get, so if someone goes out of their way to give me pleasure without any of their own, especially if they don't demand quid pro quo, I will probably, if not voluntarily, at least guiltily give back as good as I get. Sometimes it's a pride thing: they've shown they've got skills, but I'm going to rock their tiny world. Sometimes it is because I'm feeling generous because they've put effort in. Sometimes I'm not really all that interested in anything but myself but they've put effort in and I feel guilty.
With a partner about whom I care, it's different: I'm usually out to please them from the get-go, and if it seems like I'm getting more out of it than they are, I want to remedy that post-haste. Probably some pride there; I don't like thinking that I haven't given someone the best. I know I haven't been at least some people's best fuck ever, which annoys me a little because I like to win. Also, if they're not getting as much out of it as they should be, I want to know why so I can fix the problem.
Again, we'll discuss orgasm vs. sexual pleasure below, but now that I have difficulties with the former, I tend to be a more generous lover with everyone because I like giving other people pleasure. I really do, and it's kind of selfish because I like giving pleasure and making people cum for my own twisted desires, not really because I like other people to be pleased. But there's that too.
5. How important is it to you for you and your lover to have simultaneous orgasms?
a. not important – never thought about it
b. somewhat important – I think it would be nice to explode at the same time
c. important – that is what I ‘work’ for, cumming at the same time makes everything more intense–my orgasm, my feelings, the entire experience.
It happens, and I love it when it does. Simultaneous orgasm isn't the cure-all, nor does it fix problems with the sex in general, nor is it some white elephant which should be chased to the expense of any other form of pleasure. That's just silly. Sometimes it happens, and sometimes it doesn't make any damn difference to me because there's no real chemistry in the fuck. Frequently, when it happens, it's because my partner is driven over the edge by my orgasm or vice versa. That happens more with guys; a cumming pussy is very hard to fight off, in terms of holding it in.
With someone special, simultaneous orgasms can be electricity. Doesn't necessarily make the orgasm better, but it can make the experience better. But I don't dwell on it. I'd rather have an good orgasm and then keep fucking than a mediocre duo in search of an epic one.
Bonus: Do you think that having an orgasm is the same as sexual pleasure? Why or why not?
My answer to this would probably have been different before my difficulties. Or rather, my point of view has become more refined. Previously, I would probably have said that while, no, an orgasm isn't all of sexual pleasure, it's a good part of it.
Now, an orgasm is just an end of the story. It can be a great ending, or a mediocre one (it's rarely lousy) but if the rest of the story was good, that matters almost as much if not more than the ending. I enjoy the buildup more than I used to. I enjoy feeling sex in a way which you can't if you're just chasing an orgasm. I know this is different for guys: if I were a guy I suppose I'd probably say more that I enjoyed feeling sex more than you can if you're fighting to postpone an orgasm.
Which is why I wish I could develop something which would allow guys to last longer. Not just because it would be great for their partners, but also because I almost wish, when I cum, that I wasn't ending the story. I enjoy being in the moment more, and when it gets too intense and I can't stop myself, I want to keep going sometimes, keep feeling the pleasure that isn't cumming. And when I cum, I don't have to stop and wait for a refractory period before I get to fuck again. I feel bad for guys who can't last as long as they want. Not as long as they think they need to last, but just as long as they want to last, because sex is amazing and who would want to stop because of annoying biology?
Any fool can orgasm. This isn't intended as a slight against anyone who can't, by the way; I know that pain all too well. But supposing you can, any fool can orgasm. If orgasms were all there was, I'd never bother having sex. I can make myself cum quite satisfactorily all by myself in a few minutes (well, that time has changed, but it's the same idea). But for one, sex isn't all about orgasms. For another, orgasms with another person are more fun. An orgasm from masturbation is just scratching an itch for me. Sex is a much better experience.
Sure, sometimes I don't feel like sex. I want the O and then I want to do something else. Sex can be a lot of effort, and pressure, and so forth. So I'm not judging people who don't want to bother. There are plenty of toys and porn and so forth out there, and you can take your time with masturbation and really enjoy yourself. But think about it; enjoying yourself is taking time. It's seeking that orgasm but getting something along the way. Doesn't have to be with another person.
If there were a brain implant I could have installed which would, when I pressed a button, give me the most intense orgasm I'd ever had in my life, I might be tempted. Some days, that sounds awesome. But the prep for the orgasm wouldn't be there, and thus it wouldn't be the most pleasure I'd ever had. Of course, I could just have the sex, seek the O, and then at the right moment spam that button like it was going out of style, but that would be giving me an amazing ending, not an amazing story, which would be up to the rest of it.
And the best part is that orgasms don't have to be the end of the story. They can be the end of a chapter of the story. If you've cum and you can't cum any more, you can still have fun until that changes. Guys, if you've got stamina issues, rather than worrying about them, try some activities which don't cause you to immediately go off. Lick a pussy. Suck a cock. Tongue an asshole. Massage, finger, stroke, kiss. I don't think orgasms are the only sexual pleasure because if that were the case, foreplay wouldn't work. I guarantee, if you've got orgasm difficulties, whether too much or too little, you can enjoy yourself and you can make yourself into a lover who will make your partner forget all about any orgasm difficulties that might exist and come begging for more.
Let's not forget that orgasms are an end, not the end. I've had perfectly enjoyable evenings which ended in no orgasms for me at all (this definitely has changed recently; I was pretty easy to get off before). And that's okay too. I love the smell and taste of a fresh pussy, the feel of it on my fingers and tongue, the sounds a woman makes when I hit just the right spot. I love the taste of a cock, the feeling of it sliding into me, of it cumming inside me. And so much more.
So while I would happily go back to being crazy-orgasm Lexi, I'm not hurting for sexual pleasure. Or rather, I try not to. Sometimes the pain is worth it.
1. From erotica to sex blogs everyone seems to be having intense orgasms. Do you feel like you are experiencing the same intense orgasmic waves everyone talks about?
Now, no. My body won't let it last long enough to go into waves, and anything intense enough to do so hurts like a motherfucker.
Previously, not every time. Those intense, bone-shattering Os that everyone talks about are mostly fantasy, and if you believe that it's your right to have one every time, you are probably going to be disappointed. Some people are lucky, but most of us will have a whole range of orgasms (guys and gals).
Waves don't necessarily mean multiples either. Sometimes you get lucky and it's both, but a lot of the time for me a multiple O is a sharp O followed by several smaller ones, like aftershocks. I'm not bashing this at all; a multiple is great and I love them. But I can also have intense single orgasms that go on for ages which really do the whole "wave" thing, but there's no drop between wakes so I wouldn't call them multiples. I light up, I stay lit up though the lights may flicker a little.
On very rare occasions I've had waves followed by more waves when he or she hit just the right button and started the process over again. But there was a definite intermission where I wasn't orgasming before the next one hit.
2. At the beginning of our sexual lives, we are often let down because it feels like nothing in comparison to what we see in films and magazines. Sexual pleasure is something you learn more about as you get older. How have you learned to cultivate the pleasure that you feel?
I have, now more than ever. Before the latest unpleasantness, practice definitely makes perfect, and I practice a lot. Still do. But I think if you're judging an orgasm based on words or images you're getting it all wrong. Orgasms are personal and they're hard to put into words or images.
That said, I know what I like, although I try new things to expand my repertoire. I prefer penetration to straight clit stim, although these days I find that clit stim gives me the kind of orgasm I can enjoy without hurting myself. But penetration alone often won't cut it either. And while I absolutely love the feeling of anal, I generally can't cum from anal alone.
I like width in a cock more than I like depth, but I don't like a cock to be too wide. I like to feel full, not spread, which is why I've never cared for fisting. And, sad to say, meaningless sex doesn't get me off as well as meaningful, so there's definitely a mental component to it as well.
3. In the last 3 years, has your sexual pleasure:
a. waned
b. stayed the same
c. increased, enhanced, improved
My orgasms have gone down like a lead balloon, but the question of sexual pleasure is further down, so I'll just say that it has in some ways waned and in some ways increased.
4. If you are feeling much more sexual pleasure than your lover do you feel the need to make up the deficit or just live in the moment and enjoy what has been given to you?
Depends on the lover. If we're talking random one-night-stand-type, then I'm pretty selfish, particularly if they haven't given me good reason to be other than that. Still, I do try to give as good as I get, so if someone goes out of their way to give me pleasure without any of their own, especially if they don't demand quid pro quo, I will probably, if not voluntarily, at least guiltily give back as good as I get. Sometimes it's a pride thing: they've shown they've got skills, but I'm going to rock their tiny world. Sometimes it is because I'm feeling generous because they've put effort in. Sometimes I'm not really all that interested in anything but myself but they've put effort in and I feel guilty.
With a partner about whom I care, it's different: I'm usually out to please them from the get-go, and if it seems like I'm getting more out of it than they are, I want to remedy that post-haste. Probably some pride there; I don't like thinking that I haven't given someone the best. I know I haven't been at least some people's best fuck ever, which annoys me a little because I like to win. Also, if they're not getting as much out of it as they should be, I want to know why so I can fix the problem.
Again, we'll discuss orgasm vs. sexual pleasure below, but now that I have difficulties with the former, I tend to be a more generous lover with everyone because I like giving other people pleasure. I really do, and it's kind of selfish because I like giving pleasure and making people cum for my own twisted desires, not really because I like other people to be pleased. But there's that too.
5. How important is it to you for you and your lover to have simultaneous orgasms?
a. not important – never thought about it
b. somewhat important – I think it would be nice to explode at the same time
c. important – that is what I ‘work’ for, cumming at the same time makes everything more intense–my orgasm, my feelings, the entire experience.
It happens, and I love it when it does. Simultaneous orgasm isn't the cure-all, nor does it fix problems with the sex in general, nor is it some white elephant which should be chased to the expense of any other form of pleasure. That's just silly. Sometimes it happens, and sometimes it doesn't make any damn difference to me because there's no real chemistry in the fuck. Frequently, when it happens, it's because my partner is driven over the edge by my orgasm or vice versa. That happens more with guys; a cumming pussy is very hard to fight off, in terms of holding it in.
With someone special, simultaneous orgasms can be electricity. Doesn't necessarily make the orgasm better, but it can make the experience better. But I don't dwell on it. I'd rather have an good orgasm and then keep fucking than a mediocre duo in search of an epic one.
Bonus: Do you think that having an orgasm is the same as sexual pleasure? Why or why not?
My answer to this would probably have been different before my difficulties. Or rather, my point of view has become more refined. Previously, I would probably have said that while, no, an orgasm isn't all of sexual pleasure, it's a good part of it.
Now, an orgasm is just an end of the story. It can be a great ending, or a mediocre one (it's rarely lousy) but if the rest of the story was good, that matters almost as much if not more than the ending. I enjoy the buildup more than I used to. I enjoy feeling sex in a way which you can't if you're just chasing an orgasm. I know this is different for guys: if I were a guy I suppose I'd probably say more that I enjoyed feeling sex more than you can if you're fighting to postpone an orgasm.
Which is why I wish I could develop something which would allow guys to last longer. Not just because it would be great for their partners, but also because I almost wish, when I cum, that I wasn't ending the story. I enjoy being in the moment more, and when it gets too intense and I can't stop myself, I want to keep going sometimes, keep feeling the pleasure that isn't cumming. And when I cum, I don't have to stop and wait for a refractory period before I get to fuck again. I feel bad for guys who can't last as long as they want. Not as long as they think they need to last, but just as long as they want to last, because sex is amazing and who would want to stop because of annoying biology?
Any fool can orgasm. This isn't intended as a slight against anyone who can't, by the way; I know that pain all too well. But supposing you can, any fool can orgasm. If orgasms were all there was, I'd never bother having sex. I can make myself cum quite satisfactorily all by myself in a few minutes (well, that time has changed, but it's the same idea). But for one, sex isn't all about orgasms. For another, orgasms with another person are more fun. An orgasm from masturbation is just scratching an itch for me. Sex is a much better experience.
Sure, sometimes I don't feel like sex. I want the O and then I want to do something else. Sex can be a lot of effort, and pressure, and so forth. So I'm not judging people who don't want to bother. There are plenty of toys and porn and so forth out there, and you can take your time with masturbation and really enjoy yourself. But think about it; enjoying yourself is taking time. It's seeking that orgasm but getting something along the way. Doesn't have to be with another person.
If there were a brain implant I could have installed which would, when I pressed a button, give me the most intense orgasm I'd ever had in my life, I might be tempted. Some days, that sounds awesome. But the prep for the orgasm wouldn't be there, and thus it wouldn't be the most pleasure I'd ever had. Of course, I could just have the sex, seek the O, and then at the right moment spam that button like it was going out of style, but that would be giving me an amazing ending, not an amazing story, which would be up to the rest of it.
And the best part is that orgasms don't have to be the end of the story. They can be the end of a chapter of the story. If you've cum and you can't cum any more, you can still have fun until that changes. Guys, if you've got stamina issues, rather than worrying about them, try some activities which don't cause you to immediately go off. Lick a pussy. Suck a cock. Tongue an asshole. Massage, finger, stroke, kiss. I don't think orgasms are the only sexual pleasure because if that were the case, foreplay wouldn't work. I guarantee, if you've got orgasm difficulties, whether too much or too little, you can enjoy yourself and you can make yourself into a lover who will make your partner forget all about any orgasm difficulties that might exist and come begging for more.
Let's not forget that orgasms are an end, not the end. I've had perfectly enjoyable evenings which ended in no orgasms for me at all (this definitely has changed recently; I was pretty easy to get off before). And that's okay too. I love the smell and taste of a fresh pussy, the feel of it on my fingers and tongue, the sounds a woman makes when I hit just the right spot. I love the taste of a cock, the feeling of it sliding into me, of it cumming inside me. And so much more.
So while I would happily go back to being crazy-orgasm Lexi, I'm not hurting for sexual pleasure. Or rather, I try not to. Sometimes the pain is worth it.
Friday, March 10, 2017
Not What I Expected From a Dance Recital
Lexi Editorial Warning: my verb tenses get a little strained herein. I hate myself so you don't have to.
So this week is dance recital week for a visiting company. They manage pretty well; they herd 8000 kids with no trouble and keep to the schedule. I sit in the booth and ogle cute dancers, of which there are many, but I'm really not in contact with them like I am with theater companies; I basically get my cues and stay away from backstage.
So today when I got there my boss said, "They're showing up and we're not ready for them yet; go out and keep them from getting in." We had something else this morning which had run late, so things weren't set. And the dancers were early. Plenty early. They always are. So they were milling around in the lobby and I had to go out and stall stall stall.
Usually my tactic there is to find a few adults who look reasonable and enlist them. This isn't my first rodeo. The dance mothers can be pains in the ass, but I pick the ones who look the least pissed off that I'm telling them they can't come in. Today, there weren't that many people there, mostly the older kids who were behaving themselves reasonably well. But there was an older guy, old enough to be my older brother but not my father, who looked like he was going to kill me when I told him we couldn't open the doors yet. Not him. Pass him by. I found a few unwilling but reasonable accomplices and managed to keep things calm until we could let them in.
I'm going around setting things up inside when I hear a cough behind me. "Excuse me," says a man's voice. I turn around, and there he is, guy who hates my guts. Except he looks rather sheepish. "Um, I'm really sorry I snapped at you," he said. "I shouldn't have. We were early and you're just doing your job."
Will wonders never cease? "It's okay," I said, lying a little, although honestly it really didn't make any difference to me at the time other than knowing who was not to be chosen to help my stalling. "It gets pretty hectic out there."
"No, really, I'm sorry. I shouldn't take stuff out on you."
"Seriously, sir, it's fine. If that's the worst thing that happens to me today..."
"You're nice to say so. But I was out of line."
Jesus, take the hint. "Okay, apology accepted. Don't let it happen again." I wagged my finger at him because when trouble strikes I diffuse it with comedy.
He laughed. Looking at him through a lens of, "look at this fellow human being," rather than, "who's going to be a pain in my ass," he was pretty cute. Father of dancer, married, taken, whatever, but a gal can look, right? Besides, I've been up to my eyes in teen girls for the past few days, so a cute guy is a welcome change of pace. Plus, when he laughed, he softened up a little, lost the stony exterior, and seemed more reasonable.
"Can I do anything to make it up to you?"
Oh yes, sure you can. Leave your wife, come with me to the Casbah. This guy was not picking me up. He was being nice. "Nah, unless you've got amphetamines to get me through this evening." See, comedy. Weak, weak comedy. It's a wonder anyone ever talks to me.
"Tell me about it," he said, sighing. "I bet it's ten times worse having to deal with all of it. All I have to do is sit here for hours."
"It's really not that bad. You guys run a pretty tight ship." This is true. I have dealt with way, way worse. Amphetamines were not needed, other than the fact that I would mainline speed if I thought it would help me feel more awake at any time.
"I guess so. Still, got to be annoying."
"It's not so bad. I get to see some pretty dancing. I've been paid to do worse." Go away now. I have a job to do, and unless you're going to rip my bodice off... down girl, just because you're sex-starved and bored doesn't mean everyone's out to fuck.
"There is that." He smiled. "Well, if there's anything I can do to make your life easier, let me know. I'm Evan, by the way."
"Lexi."
"Nice to meet you, Lexi."
And away he went.
And during a break, back he came. With a can of soda. "Thought you might appreciate a drink," he said.
I don't drink soda. At all. But I'm not rude. "Thanks," I said.
"Caffeine isn't speed, but maybe it'll help a little."
I didn't tell him that caffeine is useless on me. I just laughed. Bad joke, but hey, I had already made several and he'd laughed, and I appreciate a callback. And we chatted civilly, me trying very hard not to be forced to open the can of soda and drink some of it to show my appreciation for the gesture. His daughter is in advanced dance classes. Still too young to drive. Bummer. That sort of thing. What do I do? Oh, this and that. Blah blah blah.
I don't want this to sound like it was some amazing conversation. It was a lot of him talking and me nodding, or me talking and him nodding. Awkward small talk. I still had no idea why the fuck he was talking to me, except maybe... well, actually, I think I do know (and it's not the reason you think, although as we shall see that's not a bad guess). Here he is, in a room with a bunch of women. I'm the only one who isn't either a crazy dance mother or a crazy dancer/teacher. I'm not made up to the nines. I'm doing a job, I'm not cavorting around, I'm not yelling at kids. If I had been my boss, he probably would have struck up a conversation with my boss instead. He didn't belong there. He was seeking out someone who wasn't going to drive him crazy with dance. Plus, hey, cute girl who isn't part of the dance studio can't have hurt.
Me, why am I being nice? Why am I being social? I don't know. Boredom. Despite it being a fairly easy gig, it's a pretty boring one. And I wasn't having to put in a lot of effort to make the conversation happen. I'm not great at starting them, but once they happen, I can hold my own, and if it's not a terrible conversation I can enjoy basic human interactions. I'm not a hermit. I'm introverted, but that doesn't mean social stuff is off the table, just that I don't like seeking it out.
As an aside, I know it seems like I'm crazily extroverted sometimes, but I'm a sexual extrovert. Regular social things are not where I shine. I wasn't shining here. I was just having a conversation with someone. Plus, I hate to say it, but it's nice to be interesting to someone. He was making an effort, and while I probably wouldn't have pursued it if it came to a conclusion, it was nice.
During the longer break, I even felt confident enough to start the conversation with him as he sat in the lobby. "How's it going out here?" That sort of thing. He had to have been way more bored than I was because he wasn't even allowed to be in the theater and watch. No parents allowed beyond those who were acting as wranglers. I guess if they let the parents in the rehearsals, it gets unpleasant. I get that.
We talked some more. It became less awkward, because we moved on from small talk to pop culture. We like some of the same music. Our taste in movies differs but we can agree that the Star Wars prequels should never have happened. He called me a baby for not having seen the originals on the big screen, then admitted sheepishly that he had only seen Jedi writ large, and couldn't really remember it anyway. So not so much older than me.
Down girl. He's married. Has a daughter in her teens. That speaks to a long marriage. You don't break up marriages. If you can help it. He's cute. You're horny. Watching girls running around in tutus doesn't help. Damn it, down. Just enjoying another human's company.
Back to work. He'll take his daughter and leave.
Only after rehearsal was over, there he is in the lobby, scowling. "What's wrong?" I asked.
"My daughter left with her friend. They had a sleepover planned the whole time and no one bothered to tell me." He growled, then shook himself. "Sorry, sorry, doing it again, and I promised I wouldn't. Not your fault. I just feel stupid."
"Jeez, I'm sorry. You could have gone home and not had to waste your time."
"I wouldn't call my time entirely wasted. There were 15 minutes or so where we were talking, for instance." He smiled. A different smile. Hmmm. "So, guess I don't have anywhere to be."
"Home in bed?" I laughed. I was genuinely not making any kind of entendre. Just a bad joke about where I wished I could be. He took it another way.
"Come on now, we just met," he said, mock-horrified.
I blushed. Yes, I do blush. Frequently, when I make an ass of myself, which I had just done. And I stammered something. He laughed. "Just kidding. No, I'm a night owl. Won't be going to bed for a while." It was still pretty early.
"No book you've been meaning to read?" Why was I trying to talk him away from me? Married, nothing could happen, down girl. I was trying to talk him away from me because as fun as conversation is, I kind of wanted to get out and go home myself.
"You want to get out of here. I understand." He looked a little sad.
"No, no, just that I don't want to make you stick around here any more than you already have."
"Why stick around here? You hungry? I'll buy."
Is he picking me up? I tried to ignore the raging hormones for a moment. Maybe he's picking me up. Maybe he's just looking for company. Fuck it, I am hungry, and he's paying. "Give me a few minutes to close up shop."
Shop was closed remarkably quickly. My boss had left. He doesn't stick around for things if I can handle them and he doesn't have to. No complaints; more hours for me. Evan was waiting for me. We settled on IHOP. Yes, he wasn't picking me up, I was sure. No booze at IHOP (I've heard that that's not true everywhere, but it certainly is in my neck of the woods) so he's not trying to get me drunk. And we didn't drive together. Just two acquaintances getting better acquainted. Down girl. You're just hungry.
I know the protocol in dating situations is that the lady orders something small and light to convince her gentleman caller that she's petite and trim and other such bullshit. I've never gone in for that. I mean, I've done it a few times, but I always felt stupid. Everyone knows it's bullshit, right? There's no point in pretending. But in this case, I wasn't looking for a meal, and anyway something smaller is less of an imposition on the wallet of my benefactor and also will be finished quickly, because this isn't going to go anywhere but talking and really, I did want to eventually get home. Appetizers. Definitely appetizers.
But we were getting along pretty well. It was a nice conversation. If the place had been crowded, I would have felt guilty for hogging the table, but we sat and talked and so forth long after the food was gone. Finally, he said, "I feel like we should have picked somewhere with drinks. I could use one."
"It's okay; I'm not much for bars. And I've got to drive."
"I've got some very good Scotch at my house."
Okay. Time to pull the ripcord. "Won't your wife be in bed?"
"She's on a trip this week. Why else do you think I'm the chauffeur?" He looked like it was no big thing that he was inviting me back to his house with his wife away.
"So you're inviting me to your house for a drink?"
"If that's okay. If you've got to go, no problem."
Here's where I come into my element. "For a drink?"
"Whatever you'd like." And he looked at me, straight in the eye. "I think we've gotten to know each other well enough." Was that a callback again? Whatever he was doing, it was working. And frankly, why not? I'm not proud of the way I can be sometimes.
I followed him to his house, quite close. No car in the driveway. Lights off. No wife in sight. I let him offer me a seat on the couch, let him sit next to me with two glasses. Had a few sips of mine. It was good Scotch, at least as far as my uneducated palate could tell. Smooth. I wasn't looking to get drunk. "Evan, what's the deal?" I said, finally, after too long a silence.
"Deal?"
"I'm not going to beat around the bush for another hour and then go home."
He turned to me, put down his glass. "Would you like to go to bed?"
"With you? Yes, I think that could be fun."
He grinned. "Okay, that was easy," he said, looking relieved. "You weren't kidding, were you?"
"Look, I don't care. I haven't had a man in too long. You're cute, you're asking, I'm agreeing, let's do this."
"Usually women are more worried about me being married."
"That's your business."
"Wow. Where have you been all my life?" And then he leaned in and kissed me. Forcefully. Tongue in my mouth before I could react. Okay, he likes to be a little dominant. I'm okay with that. Less work for me.
We kissed for a few moments, his hands pulling me closer, one on my ass, the other migrating from my back around to cup my breast. And I was turned the fuck on. Wet: forget it. So ready for cock. We broke off and he led me to the bedroom. He rooted around in a briefcase and came out holding several condoms. "I'm not going to lie; I do this on business trips sometimes," he said.
"Always be prepared," I laughed.
"You're prettier than most of the women I meet like this." I think he was lying his ass off, or at least he was saying it because he hoped it would flatter me. And it worked.
Didn't take long for us to be in our underwear. I was inwardly cursing that I wasn't wearing something prettier, but he didn't seem to notice or care if he did. Can you blame him? He was wearing navy boxer briefs which were a little loose on him. His physique wouldn't win any prizes, but he was reasonably fit, a little bit of a gut but nothing major. And he was pitching a nice tent in those boxers. He didn't say a word when I crawled over to him and pulled them down.
Jackpot. Nice cock, not huge but perfectly respectable, thick shaft, swollen head which looked just right for fucking. I had it in my mouth and licked around the head slowly. "You haven't had a man in a long time? I bet I've got you beat," he said with a sigh. "God, I haven't had a mouth on my dick in months."
I sucked him, pressed him down my throat until he gasped, "Holy shit Lexi!" That's what I like to hear. He pulled me off of him after a moment. "I'm not going to go off in your mouth. I want to fuck you." Hair trigger. Shit, I probably wasn't going to get mine this evening. Ah well. Any port in a storm.
He kept complimenting me as he (with some help) took off my bra, nuzzled my tits for a moment (too short a moment) and then pushed me gently back to the bed and pulled my panties slowly down my legs. "Are you ready?" he asked.
Sure. I mean, I could have used more foreplay, but I was wet and wanted cock, so if that's how this was going to go, get in there. "Fuck me," I said, with my best little-girl fuck-me voice. That was the right choice; he practically fell over grabbing a condom off the nightstand. Put it on himself; I let him because hey, I was being submissive. Got between my legs, aimed, and then into my cunt he went.
"God, you feel amazing." A girl likes to hear that too. "You want more?"
"Please." Don't judge me.
He thrust in, spreading me, filling that ache. Speaking of ache, I was doing pretty well in the ache department and thought I might be able to get off, if he could last long enough. He leaned down, pressing his body against mine, my legs wrapped around him, and we kissed as he pumped short, sharp thrusts into my pelvis, his cock grinding deep. Not bad at all.
But it didn't last. "I'm sorry, I can't hold it," he said. Then he pulled back, pulled off the condom hurriedly, and shoot rope upon rope of semen onto my belly and tits. "I'm so sorry," he said after he finished. "I usually last longer, but you..."
"It's okay, it's okay," I said. "It's a compliment."
"Give me a second," he said, getting up and leaving me lying there spread wide, cum cooling on me. He returned with a towel. "Sorry again," he said, his breathing under control.
"Really, it's fine." No, it wasn't. Seriously, some foreplay. But whatever. I wiped myself up a bit. I could have been sexy and cleaned myself up, but I wasn't feeling like he deserved that, at least not yet. "Got another in you?"
"Oh hell yes," he said. "I was afraid you were going to leave."
"If you've got another go, I'm getting another," I laughed.
"You're incredible." A lady likes to hear she's appreciated, especially if it means round two, hopefully longer this time. "I was just really wound up."
"Babe, you should have said something hours ago. If you were just buying me dinner to get into my pants, we could have skipped that."
"No, it's not like that. I was having a good time. Were you?"
"Yes, or I wouldn't be here."
"But... you're going to think I'm a creep."
"What?"
"Honestly, being around all those girls... I'm not saying I'm attracted to girls, but all those pheromones in the air..."
"You don't have to tell me that. Why do you think I was so wet?"
"Really? You don't think that's creepy?"
"No. It's natural." A little creepy, maybe, but then I'm creepy too.
"Honestly, there are a few of the older girls... damn, in a few years, they're going to break some hearts."
I find myself in these situations. Lying naked with basically a strange man in the bed he and his wife share, talking about teenage dancers. Lest you think that this is going somewhere, it's not; we just agreed that there were several very hot teen dancers. And then he said, "Now, I'm going to make up for everything I've done wrong this evening. Lie back and let me get you off."
Gentlemen, if you're ever looking for a good thing to say in bed, that's a decent choice. I was perfectly happy to let him get between my legs and go to town. Decent pussy-eating skills. Definitely had some practice, although probably only with people who were interested in making him feel good for trying, because he needed direction. I didn't give him much, just some hints, because I was still feeling submissive and letting him do his thing. But the orgasm I had wasn't faked, although I made it out to be more than it was. It was a decent orgasm, don't get me wrong. And it was great that he was willing to eat me out until I came, which did take some doing.
As a reward, I proceeded to suck him, although he didn't need much prep. And then, "How do you want me this time?"
"I want to get a better look at that ass." He rolled me over and I got on my knees and then he was behind me, one hand guiding his cock into my waiting, dripping pussy, the other holding my hip. It felt nice to be taken. I didn't even mind the slight feeling of the condom.
He lasted much longer this time, long enough to push me down to the bed completely until I was lying with just my ass poking up and he was fucking in and out, long strokes, his hands on my hips holding me tight. I wasn't getting close to cumming, but that's not the goal, really. I was just really enjoying myself. This was different from inexperienced young cocks. It was nice to have a man inside me.
"Getting close," he said. "Have you cum yet?"
Why do they always ask that? Don't ask that. If we wanted you to know, we'd tell you. "It's okay," I said, because this time it really was. "I probably won't. Come on up though; I want to get some in my mouth."
"God, you're amazing," he said. "Most girls don't even want me to cum on them." He pulled out, stripped off the condom, and I rolled over and sucked him until he groaned and filled my mouth, another nice load even after the first one. I gave him a bit of a show, I'll admit, rolling it around on my tongue for a second, then swallowed. "Wow," he said. "Seriously, where have you been?"
"In a booth bored out of my skull," I said. See, always with the jokes. But he laughed. Charity, but he was getting to fuck me, so he'd better laugh.
I was all set to go, figured that was about it and I wasn't going to spend the night no matter how much he might like it. It wasn't that late. I could still get home. I think he could tell. "You've got to go?" he asked.
"Probably should."
"I can go down on you again, since I couldn't get you off..."
"Honey, I'm not going to get off again. I'm not saying I wouldn't enjoy trying, but it's not likely."
"Can you say for a bit longer? I'll be ready again in a few minutes..."
He wasn't giving me puppydog eyes, but it was close. And hey, he was saying he would go again. When was I going to get another chance like this? "Can I tell you a secret which will maybe speed up your recovery?"
"What's that?"
"Ever fucked a girl in the ass before?"
His eyes perked up. "Are you saying..."
"I'm saying if you get hard, you can fuck my ass."
That worked wonders. He was stroking himself immediately, like he was hoping he could will himself hard. It took as long as it was going to take though, so we kissed and cuddled and he fingered me and sucked my nipples until I wasn't at all sure I wouldn't be able to cum again. But honestly, the first one had hurt a little and I wasn't interested in chancing it. I just enjoyed it. And when I suggested he maybe slip a finger or two a little lower, he lubed up the outside of my asshole with my pussy juices a bit.
"I've never done anal," he said. That was pretty obvious, given how squeamish he was being about actually sticking a finger in my ass.
"Don't worry, I have. You won't hurt me. Go on, stick your finger in my butt and see how tight it's going to be on your cock." I was full-on dirty-talk mode at this point.
He eventually got over his nerves and had his middle finger firmly inside me, up to the knuckle. "God, that's really tight."
"It feels amazing. You want me to get you ready?"
He did, so I sucked his stiffening cock back to life. One more condom, lubricated thank goodness, and I inwardly regretted having eaten before this and hoped nothing unpleasant would happen. Then I got on my knees, head down, reaching back and pulling my ass apart. "Just ease it in," I said.
I have pretty decent control over my anal muscles; I can't gape on command or anything, but I can definitely make it easy on a novice. His head popped in with no trouble. "Go deeper, you feel incredible." It doesn't hurt to encourage. He needed no second bidding, and pressed like he was expecting me to reject him, finding himself quite quickly bottomed out in my anus. God, it did feel incredible. Three times, with anal, even if the first had been short. I don't get that often enough any more.
Once I convinced him he wasn't going to hurt me, he started slowly thrusting, starting with grinding but then when I encouraged him stroking in and out. Sometimes a grind is nice, but in anal I do like long thrusts, and he gave them to me. He even got into it and pulled all the way out a few times, then pressed all the way back in.
It was over too quickly. He pressed in, and then said, in surprise, "Oh shit, I'm gonna cum." Didn't make it out; he just filled the condom. I let him flee to the bathroom to clean himself up, hoping I hadn't left too much of a mess. But that's what condoms are for, and he didn't complain. I wiped up a little and then put my underwear back on.
It took a little convincing to get him to realize that I wasn't going to spend the night. No, his wife wasn't expected, and his daughter was going to school straight from her sleepover, but I still wasn't going to spend the night. Yes, I knew, he might be up for round four in an hour, maybe less, and yes, I knew, I was incredible and he couldn't believe how tight my ass was and how good it felt. I was cutting it off. No, I wasn't leaving because I hated him or regretted anything. I just wanted to go home before it got too late.
He eventually got the message. It wasn't that he was trying to force anything, just that he was really trying to convince me. And honestly, had he not gone three times, I might have stuck around for another. But after three, I felt like I'd had what I was going to get.
We cordially parted, and no plans were made or information exchanged. I don't know if I'll see him when the dance company comes back next week. Kind of hoping not. He was nice, and cute, and the sex was pretty great, but I don't need to be someone's side piece.
Still, I got fucked, came, got anal, and while yes, there's a part of me which is guilty that I was helping this guy cheat on his wife, it's a small part. I've been the other woman too many times to feel too guilty about it.
So this week is dance recital week for a visiting company. They manage pretty well; they herd 8000 kids with no trouble and keep to the schedule. I sit in the booth and ogle cute dancers, of which there are many, but I'm really not in contact with them like I am with theater companies; I basically get my cues and stay away from backstage.
So today when I got there my boss said, "They're showing up and we're not ready for them yet; go out and keep them from getting in." We had something else this morning which had run late, so things weren't set. And the dancers were early. Plenty early. They always are. So they were milling around in the lobby and I had to go out and stall stall stall.
Usually my tactic there is to find a few adults who look reasonable and enlist them. This isn't my first rodeo. The dance mothers can be pains in the ass, but I pick the ones who look the least pissed off that I'm telling them they can't come in. Today, there weren't that many people there, mostly the older kids who were behaving themselves reasonably well. But there was an older guy, old enough to be my older brother but not my father, who looked like he was going to kill me when I told him we couldn't open the doors yet. Not him. Pass him by. I found a few unwilling but reasonable accomplices and managed to keep things calm until we could let them in.
I'm going around setting things up inside when I hear a cough behind me. "Excuse me," says a man's voice. I turn around, and there he is, guy who hates my guts. Except he looks rather sheepish. "Um, I'm really sorry I snapped at you," he said. "I shouldn't have. We were early and you're just doing your job."
Will wonders never cease? "It's okay," I said, lying a little, although honestly it really didn't make any difference to me at the time other than knowing who was not to be chosen to help my stalling. "It gets pretty hectic out there."
"No, really, I'm sorry. I shouldn't take stuff out on you."
"Seriously, sir, it's fine. If that's the worst thing that happens to me today..."
"You're nice to say so. But I was out of line."
Jesus, take the hint. "Okay, apology accepted. Don't let it happen again." I wagged my finger at him because when trouble strikes I diffuse it with comedy.
He laughed. Looking at him through a lens of, "look at this fellow human being," rather than, "who's going to be a pain in my ass," he was pretty cute. Father of dancer, married, taken, whatever, but a gal can look, right? Besides, I've been up to my eyes in teen girls for the past few days, so a cute guy is a welcome change of pace. Plus, when he laughed, he softened up a little, lost the stony exterior, and seemed more reasonable.
"Can I do anything to make it up to you?"
Oh yes, sure you can. Leave your wife, come with me to the Casbah. This guy was not picking me up. He was being nice. "Nah, unless you've got amphetamines to get me through this evening." See, comedy. Weak, weak comedy. It's a wonder anyone ever talks to me.
"Tell me about it," he said, sighing. "I bet it's ten times worse having to deal with all of it. All I have to do is sit here for hours."
"It's really not that bad. You guys run a pretty tight ship." This is true. I have dealt with way, way worse. Amphetamines were not needed, other than the fact that I would mainline speed if I thought it would help me feel more awake at any time.
"I guess so. Still, got to be annoying."
"It's not so bad. I get to see some pretty dancing. I've been paid to do worse." Go away now. I have a job to do, and unless you're going to rip my bodice off... down girl, just because you're sex-starved and bored doesn't mean everyone's out to fuck.
"There is that." He smiled. "Well, if there's anything I can do to make your life easier, let me know. I'm Evan, by the way."
"Lexi."
"Nice to meet you, Lexi."
And away he went.
And during a break, back he came. With a can of soda. "Thought you might appreciate a drink," he said.
I don't drink soda. At all. But I'm not rude. "Thanks," I said.
"Caffeine isn't speed, but maybe it'll help a little."
I didn't tell him that caffeine is useless on me. I just laughed. Bad joke, but hey, I had already made several and he'd laughed, and I appreciate a callback. And we chatted civilly, me trying very hard not to be forced to open the can of soda and drink some of it to show my appreciation for the gesture. His daughter is in advanced dance classes. Still too young to drive. Bummer. That sort of thing. What do I do? Oh, this and that. Blah blah blah.
I don't want this to sound like it was some amazing conversation. It was a lot of him talking and me nodding, or me talking and him nodding. Awkward small talk. I still had no idea why the fuck he was talking to me, except maybe... well, actually, I think I do know (and it's not the reason you think, although as we shall see that's not a bad guess). Here he is, in a room with a bunch of women. I'm the only one who isn't either a crazy dance mother or a crazy dancer/teacher. I'm not made up to the nines. I'm doing a job, I'm not cavorting around, I'm not yelling at kids. If I had been my boss, he probably would have struck up a conversation with my boss instead. He didn't belong there. He was seeking out someone who wasn't going to drive him crazy with dance. Plus, hey, cute girl who isn't part of the dance studio can't have hurt.
Me, why am I being nice? Why am I being social? I don't know. Boredom. Despite it being a fairly easy gig, it's a pretty boring one. And I wasn't having to put in a lot of effort to make the conversation happen. I'm not great at starting them, but once they happen, I can hold my own, and if it's not a terrible conversation I can enjoy basic human interactions. I'm not a hermit. I'm introverted, but that doesn't mean social stuff is off the table, just that I don't like seeking it out.
As an aside, I know it seems like I'm crazily extroverted sometimes, but I'm a sexual extrovert. Regular social things are not where I shine. I wasn't shining here. I was just having a conversation with someone. Plus, I hate to say it, but it's nice to be interesting to someone. He was making an effort, and while I probably wouldn't have pursued it if it came to a conclusion, it was nice.
During the longer break, I even felt confident enough to start the conversation with him as he sat in the lobby. "How's it going out here?" That sort of thing. He had to have been way more bored than I was because he wasn't even allowed to be in the theater and watch. No parents allowed beyond those who were acting as wranglers. I guess if they let the parents in the rehearsals, it gets unpleasant. I get that.
We talked some more. It became less awkward, because we moved on from small talk to pop culture. We like some of the same music. Our taste in movies differs but we can agree that the Star Wars prequels should never have happened. He called me a baby for not having seen the originals on the big screen, then admitted sheepishly that he had only seen Jedi writ large, and couldn't really remember it anyway. So not so much older than me.
Down girl. He's married. Has a daughter in her teens. That speaks to a long marriage. You don't break up marriages. If you can help it. He's cute. You're horny. Watching girls running around in tutus doesn't help. Damn it, down. Just enjoying another human's company.
Back to work. He'll take his daughter and leave.
Only after rehearsal was over, there he is in the lobby, scowling. "What's wrong?" I asked.
"My daughter left with her friend. They had a sleepover planned the whole time and no one bothered to tell me." He growled, then shook himself. "Sorry, sorry, doing it again, and I promised I wouldn't. Not your fault. I just feel stupid."
"Jeez, I'm sorry. You could have gone home and not had to waste your time."
"I wouldn't call my time entirely wasted. There were 15 minutes or so where we were talking, for instance." He smiled. A different smile. Hmmm. "So, guess I don't have anywhere to be."
"Home in bed?" I laughed. I was genuinely not making any kind of entendre. Just a bad joke about where I wished I could be. He took it another way.
"Come on now, we just met," he said, mock-horrified.
I blushed. Yes, I do blush. Frequently, when I make an ass of myself, which I had just done. And I stammered something. He laughed. "Just kidding. No, I'm a night owl. Won't be going to bed for a while." It was still pretty early.
"No book you've been meaning to read?" Why was I trying to talk him away from me? Married, nothing could happen, down girl. I was trying to talk him away from me because as fun as conversation is, I kind of wanted to get out and go home myself.
"You want to get out of here. I understand." He looked a little sad.
"No, no, just that I don't want to make you stick around here any more than you already have."
"Why stick around here? You hungry? I'll buy."
Is he picking me up? I tried to ignore the raging hormones for a moment. Maybe he's picking me up. Maybe he's just looking for company. Fuck it, I am hungry, and he's paying. "Give me a few minutes to close up shop."
Shop was closed remarkably quickly. My boss had left. He doesn't stick around for things if I can handle them and he doesn't have to. No complaints; more hours for me. Evan was waiting for me. We settled on IHOP. Yes, he wasn't picking me up, I was sure. No booze at IHOP (I've heard that that's not true everywhere, but it certainly is in my neck of the woods) so he's not trying to get me drunk. And we didn't drive together. Just two acquaintances getting better acquainted. Down girl. You're just hungry.
I know the protocol in dating situations is that the lady orders something small and light to convince her gentleman caller that she's petite and trim and other such bullshit. I've never gone in for that. I mean, I've done it a few times, but I always felt stupid. Everyone knows it's bullshit, right? There's no point in pretending. But in this case, I wasn't looking for a meal, and anyway something smaller is less of an imposition on the wallet of my benefactor and also will be finished quickly, because this isn't going to go anywhere but talking and really, I did want to eventually get home. Appetizers. Definitely appetizers.
But we were getting along pretty well. It was a nice conversation. If the place had been crowded, I would have felt guilty for hogging the table, but we sat and talked and so forth long after the food was gone. Finally, he said, "I feel like we should have picked somewhere with drinks. I could use one."
"It's okay; I'm not much for bars. And I've got to drive."
"I've got some very good Scotch at my house."
Okay. Time to pull the ripcord. "Won't your wife be in bed?"
"She's on a trip this week. Why else do you think I'm the chauffeur?" He looked like it was no big thing that he was inviting me back to his house with his wife away.
"So you're inviting me to your house for a drink?"
"If that's okay. If you've got to go, no problem."
Here's where I come into my element. "For a drink?"
"Whatever you'd like." And he looked at me, straight in the eye. "I think we've gotten to know each other well enough." Was that a callback again? Whatever he was doing, it was working. And frankly, why not? I'm not proud of the way I can be sometimes.
I followed him to his house, quite close. No car in the driveway. Lights off. No wife in sight. I let him offer me a seat on the couch, let him sit next to me with two glasses. Had a few sips of mine. It was good Scotch, at least as far as my uneducated palate could tell. Smooth. I wasn't looking to get drunk. "Evan, what's the deal?" I said, finally, after too long a silence.
"Deal?"
"I'm not going to beat around the bush for another hour and then go home."
He turned to me, put down his glass. "Would you like to go to bed?"
"With you? Yes, I think that could be fun."
He grinned. "Okay, that was easy," he said, looking relieved. "You weren't kidding, were you?"
"Look, I don't care. I haven't had a man in too long. You're cute, you're asking, I'm agreeing, let's do this."
"Usually women are more worried about me being married."
"That's your business."
"Wow. Where have you been all my life?" And then he leaned in and kissed me. Forcefully. Tongue in my mouth before I could react. Okay, he likes to be a little dominant. I'm okay with that. Less work for me.
We kissed for a few moments, his hands pulling me closer, one on my ass, the other migrating from my back around to cup my breast. And I was turned the fuck on. Wet: forget it. So ready for cock. We broke off and he led me to the bedroom. He rooted around in a briefcase and came out holding several condoms. "I'm not going to lie; I do this on business trips sometimes," he said.
"Always be prepared," I laughed.
"You're prettier than most of the women I meet like this." I think he was lying his ass off, or at least he was saying it because he hoped it would flatter me. And it worked.
Didn't take long for us to be in our underwear. I was inwardly cursing that I wasn't wearing something prettier, but he didn't seem to notice or care if he did. Can you blame him? He was wearing navy boxer briefs which were a little loose on him. His physique wouldn't win any prizes, but he was reasonably fit, a little bit of a gut but nothing major. And he was pitching a nice tent in those boxers. He didn't say a word when I crawled over to him and pulled them down.
Jackpot. Nice cock, not huge but perfectly respectable, thick shaft, swollen head which looked just right for fucking. I had it in my mouth and licked around the head slowly. "You haven't had a man in a long time? I bet I've got you beat," he said with a sigh. "God, I haven't had a mouth on my dick in months."
I sucked him, pressed him down my throat until he gasped, "Holy shit Lexi!" That's what I like to hear. He pulled me off of him after a moment. "I'm not going to go off in your mouth. I want to fuck you." Hair trigger. Shit, I probably wasn't going to get mine this evening. Ah well. Any port in a storm.
He kept complimenting me as he (with some help) took off my bra, nuzzled my tits for a moment (too short a moment) and then pushed me gently back to the bed and pulled my panties slowly down my legs. "Are you ready?" he asked.
Sure. I mean, I could have used more foreplay, but I was wet and wanted cock, so if that's how this was going to go, get in there. "Fuck me," I said, with my best little-girl fuck-me voice. That was the right choice; he practically fell over grabbing a condom off the nightstand. Put it on himself; I let him because hey, I was being submissive. Got between my legs, aimed, and then into my cunt he went.
"God, you feel amazing." A girl likes to hear that too. "You want more?"
"Please." Don't judge me.
He thrust in, spreading me, filling that ache. Speaking of ache, I was doing pretty well in the ache department and thought I might be able to get off, if he could last long enough. He leaned down, pressing his body against mine, my legs wrapped around him, and we kissed as he pumped short, sharp thrusts into my pelvis, his cock grinding deep. Not bad at all.
But it didn't last. "I'm sorry, I can't hold it," he said. Then he pulled back, pulled off the condom hurriedly, and shoot rope upon rope of semen onto my belly and tits. "I'm so sorry," he said after he finished. "I usually last longer, but you..."
"It's okay, it's okay," I said. "It's a compliment."
"Give me a second," he said, getting up and leaving me lying there spread wide, cum cooling on me. He returned with a towel. "Sorry again," he said, his breathing under control.
"Really, it's fine." No, it wasn't. Seriously, some foreplay. But whatever. I wiped myself up a bit. I could have been sexy and cleaned myself up, but I wasn't feeling like he deserved that, at least not yet. "Got another in you?"
"Oh hell yes," he said. "I was afraid you were going to leave."
"If you've got another go, I'm getting another," I laughed.
"You're incredible." A lady likes to hear she's appreciated, especially if it means round two, hopefully longer this time. "I was just really wound up."
"Babe, you should have said something hours ago. If you were just buying me dinner to get into my pants, we could have skipped that."
"No, it's not like that. I was having a good time. Were you?"
"Yes, or I wouldn't be here."
"But... you're going to think I'm a creep."
"What?"
"Honestly, being around all those girls... I'm not saying I'm attracted to girls, but all those pheromones in the air..."
"You don't have to tell me that. Why do you think I was so wet?"
"Really? You don't think that's creepy?"
"No. It's natural." A little creepy, maybe, but then I'm creepy too.
"Honestly, there are a few of the older girls... damn, in a few years, they're going to break some hearts."
I find myself in these situations. Lying naked with basically a strange man in the bed he and his wife share, talking about teenage dancers. Lest you think that this is going somewhere, it's not; we just agreed that there were several very hot teen dancers. And then he said, "Now, I'm going to make up for everything I've done wrong this evening. Lie back and let me get you off."
Gentlemen, if you're ever looking for a good thing to say in bed, that's a decent choice. I was perfectly happy to let him get between my legs and go to town. Decent pussy-eating skills. Definitely had some practice, although probably only with people who were interested in making him feel good for trying, because he needed direction. I didn't give him much, just some hints, because I was still feeling submissive and letting him do his thing. But the orgasm I had wasn't faked, although I made it out to be more than it was. It was a decent orgasm, don't get me wrong. And it was great that he was willing to eat me out until I came, which did take some doing.
As a reward, I proceeded to suck him, although he didn't need much prep. And then, "How do you want me this time?"
"I want to get a better look at that ass." He rolled me over and I got on my knees and then he was behind me, one hand guiding his cock into my waiting, dripping pussy, the other holding my hip. It felt nice to be taken. I didn't even mind the slight feeling of the condom.
He lasted much longer this time, long enough to push me down to the bed completely until I was lying with just my ass poking up and he was fucking in and out, long strokes, his hands on my hips holding me tight. I wasn't getting close to cumming, but that's not the goal, really. I was just really enjoying myself. This was different from inexperienced young cocks. It was nice to have a man inside me.
"Getting close," he said. "Have you cum yet?"
Why do they always ask that? Don't ask that. If we wanted you to know, we'd tell you. "It's okay," I said, because this time it really was. "I probably won't. Come on up though; I want to get some in my mouth."
"God, you're amazing," he said. "Most girls don't even want me to cum on them." He pulled out, stripped off the condom, and I rolled over and sucked him until he groaned and filled my mouth, another nice load even after the first one. I gave him a bit of a show, I'll admit, rolling it around on my tongue for a second, then swallowed. "Wow," he said. "Seriously, where have you been?"
"In a booth bored out of my skull," I said. See, always with the jokes. But he laughed. Charity, but he was getting to fuck me, so he'd better laugh.
I was all set to go, figured that was about it and I wasn't going to spend the night no matter how much he might like it. It wasn't that late. I could still get home. I think he could tell. "You've got to go?" he asked.
"Probably should."
"I can go down on you again, since I couldn't get you off..."
"Honey, I'm not going to get off again. I'm not saying I wouldn't enjoy trying, but it's not likely."
"Can you say for a bit longer? I'll be ready again in a few minutes..."
He wasn't giving me puppydog eyes, but it was close. And hey, he was saying he would go again. When was I going to get another chance like this? "Can I tell you a secret which will maybe speed up your recovery?"
"What's that?"
"Ever fucked a girl in the ass before?"
His eyes perked up. "Are you saying..."
"I'm saying if you get hard, you can fuck my ass."
That worked wonders. He was stroking himself immediately, like he was hoping he could will himself hard. It took as long as it was going to take though, so we kissed and cuddled and he fingered me and sucked my nipples until I wasn't at all sure I wouldn't be able to cum again. But honestly, the first one had hurt a little and I wasn't interested in chancing it. I just enjoyed it. And when I suggested he maybe slip a finger or two a little lower, he lubed up the outside of my asshole with my pussy juices a bit.
"I've never done anal," he said. That was pretty obvious, given how squeamish he was being about actually sticking a finger in my ass.
"Don't worry, I have. You won't hurt me. Go on, stick your finger in my butt and see how tight it's going to be on your cock." I was full-on dirty-talk mode at this point.
He eventually got over his nerves and had his middle finger firmly inside me, up to the knuckle. "God, that's really tight."
"It feels amazing. You want me to get you ready?"
He did, so I sucked his stiffening cock back to life. One more condom, lubricated thank goodness, and I inwardly regretted having eaten before this and hoped nothing unpleasant would happen. Then I got on my knees, head down, reaching back and pulling my ass apart. "Just ease it in," I said.
I have pretty decent control over my anal muscles; I can't gape on command or anything, but I can definitely make it easy on a novice. His head popped in with no trouble. "Go deeper, you feel incredible." It doesn't hurt to encourage. He needed no second bidding, and pressed like he was expecting me to reject him, finding himself quite quickly bottomed out in my anus. God, it did feel incredible. Three times, with anal, even if the first had been short. I don't get that often enough any more.
Once I convinced him he wasn't going to hurt me, he started slowly thrusting, starting with grinding but then when I encouraged him stroking in and out. Sometimes a grind is nice, but in anal I do like long thrusts, and he gave them to me. He even got into it and pulled all the way out a few times, then pressed all the way back in.
It was over too quickly. He pressed in, and then said, in surprise, "Oh shit, I'm gonna cum." Didn't make it out; he just filled the condom. I let him flee to the bathroom to clean himself up, hoping I hadn't left too much of a mess. But that's what condoms are for, and he didn't complain. I wiped up a little and then put my underwear back on.
It took a little convincing to get him to realize that I wasn't going to spend the night. No, his wife wasn't expected, and his daughter was going to school straight from her sleepover, but I still wasn't going to spend the night. Yes, I knew, he might be up for round four in an hour, maybe less, and yes, I knew, I was incredible and he couldn't believe how tight my ass was and how good it felt. I was cutting it off. No, I wasn't leaving because I hated him or regretted anything. I just wanted to go home before it got too late.
He eventually got the message. It wasn't that he was trying to force anything, just that he was really trying to convince me. And honestly, had he not gone three times, I might have stuck around for another. But after three, I felt like I'd had what I was going to get.
We cordially parted, and no plans were made or information exchanged. I don't know if I'll see him when the dance company comes back next week. Kind of hoping not. He was nice, and cute, and the sex was pretty great, but I don't need to be someone's side piece.
Still, I got fucked, came, got anal, and while yes, there's a part of me which is guilty that I was helping this guy cheat on his wife, it's a small part. I've been the other woman too many times to feel too guilty about it.
Tuesday, March 7, 2017
TMI Tuesday
From the archives (please send questions, pretty please):
1. If you had to be trapped inside a movie for 5 days, which movie would you pick?
A rom-com? Seems safest, although 5 days isn't a long time in a rom-com, so I'd probably be stuck in the part where everything goes to shit before the big happy ending.
It really depends on what character I'd be stuck as. It would be awesome and cool to be stuck in a superhero movie if you were a superhero, but I'm not and never will be, so I'd probably get squashed by a falling building or something. I'd wind up as a henchman in an adventure movie and get killed by whatever James-Bond-esque hero came along, although if I were lucky I'd get to fuck him first. Unless of course we're going pure realism in our fantasy, in which case I wouldn't go near James Bond or similar because they're all probably terrible in bed and have 50 venereal diseases.
I could be the amusing friend in a rom-com, the one to whom the action doesn't happen. That would probably be safe. Yes, I want safe.
2. Who is starring in the movie of your life?
I feel bad for whoever it is, because my life would make a terrible movie, particularly since to appear in theaters it would have to cut all the fun scenes down to nothing. I'd love to say Helen Mirren because I've always wanted to be elegant and British, but I'm not old enough for that yet, plus I don't think she'd wear my hair right. She seems like a short-hair kind of gal, and I like my hair longer.
Jennifer Garner? The ages are still a little off, but she could inject some much-needed kick-ass into my life. Seems nice enough.
3. What is your favorite curse word?
Fuck. So useful. Overused, certainly, and without the punch of some of the more esoteric curses, but a good multi-tool of a word.
4. What word or phrase do you say most often during sex?
Fuck? Or imprecations to the Lord. By which I mean variations of, "Oh God yes."
5. What word or phrase are you tired of hearing during sex?
Bitch. Name-calling aside, it's not a very imaginative name to call. "Take it, bitch," is a good indicator that your gentleman caller is either not a decent sort or has no idea what he's doing with dirty talk. I actually enjoy tender dirty talk while being railed as hard as possible; it's original.
6. What word or phrase do you like to hear during sex?
Encouragement or suggestions. Anything from, "Right there!" to, "A little lower," and anything in between. Communication is the key to excellence.
Bonus: Which sex profession would you attempt? You must pick one. Tell us why you made that choice.
I'll go through them all, why not?
a. porn movie actor
I could probably do this. I've acted and I'm okay in bed, although those two things aren't necessarily the prerequisites for a good porn actor. And I'm not a man, so I don't have to worry about performance issues; I can fake it, thank goodness. That said, I don't know that I'd enjoy it; porn isn't real sex. But never having tried it, I can't say for certain.
b. phone sex operator
I don't like being on the phone with people. I've never been that into phone sex in the privacy of my own life, so I'm not sure this one would be for me. I've been told I'm decent at talking guys off, so it's more a personal preference than anything else.
c. escort/call-girl/giggolo
I'm not sure what the difference between this and "prostitute" is except possibly higher-class clientele. Well, that and the fact that it seems like escorts are required to do more social things before the sex. And that seems less pleasant than just meeting up to fuck someone. Still, the money and the social standing are better. I'm just not sure I'm elegant enough to pull this one off.
Oh, also, a regular stable rather than one-night stands, I suppose. I'm not sure whether that's better or worse. If a regular is lousy in bed but otherwise a good client, I'd feel like my service to the bottom line (rimshot) would come before my own enjoyment, which would be tedious. On the other hand, regulars mean you don't have to deal with unknowns.
d. prostitute
I've talked about this one before. I don't like to mix work with pleasure, really, and sex is pleasure for me, so I'm not at all sure I could keep enjoying sex if it were my job. Nothing to do with prostitution being dehumanizing or anything, just my own set of hang-ups. But of all the jobs on offer, this one I'd probably take before any of the others because it seems like, if you're in a good position, it pays fairly well and it's nothing I don't already do for free.
e. stripper
Sadly, I'm quite shy, so I don't think I could take my clothes off in front of strangers. Yes, this is very strange. And I have often joked, about auditions (for non-sexual things) that I would rather take my clothes off and dance naked in front of 100 strangers than do an audition piece in front of three people I know. But that's because I hate auditions.
I expect that if I could get over the initial hurdle, it would become easier for me. I have performed in various states of undress in the past, but that was a different vibe. Again, this is nothing against strippers who are wonderful people and have more balls than I've got.
1. If you had to be trapped inside a movie for 5 days, which movie would you pick?
A rom-com? Seems safest, although 5 days isn't a long time in a rom-com, so I'd probably be stuck in the part where everything goes to shit before the big happy ending.
It really depends on what character I'd be stuck as. It would be awesome and cool to be stuck in a superhero movie if you were a superhero, but I'm not and never will be, so I'd probably get squashed by a falling building or something. I'd wind up as a henchman in an adventure movie and get killed by whatever James-Bond-esque hero came along, although if I were lucky I'd get to fuck him first. Unless of course we're going pure realism in our fantasy, in which case I wouldn't go near James Bond or similar because they're all probably terrible in bed and have 50 venereal diseases.
I could be the amusing friend in a rom-com, the one to whom the action doesn't happen. That would probably be safe. Yes, I want safe.
2. Who is starring in the movie of your life?
I feel bad for whoever it is, because my life would make a terrible movie, particularly since to appear in theaters it would have to cut all the fun scenes down to nothing. I'd love to say Helen Mirren because I've always wanted to be elegant and British, but I'm not old enough for that yet, plus I don't think she'd wear my hair right. She seems like a short-hair kind of gal, and I like my hair longer.
Jennifer Garner? The ages are still a little off, but she could inject some much-needed kick-ass into my life. Seems nice enough.
3. What is your favorite curse word?
Fuck. So useful. Overused, certainly, and without the punch of some of the more esoteric curses, but a good multi-tool of a word.
4. What word or phrase do you say most often during sex?
Fuck? Or imprecations to the Lord. By which I mean variations of, "Oh God yes."
5. What word or phrase are you tired of hearing during sex?
Bitch. Name-calling aside, it's not a very imaginative name to call. "Take it, bitch," is a good indicator that your gentleman caller is either not a decent sort or has no idea what he's doing with dirty talk. I actually enjoy tender dirty talk while being railed as hard as possible; it's original.
6. What word or phrase do you like to hear during sex?
Encouragement or suggestions. Anything from, "Right there!" to, "A little lower," and anything in between. Communication is the key to excellence.
Bonus: Which sex profession would you attempt? You must pick one. Tell us why you made that choice.
I'll go through them all, why not?
a. porn movie actor
I could probably do this. I've acted and I'm okay in bed, although those two things aren't necessarily the prerequisites for a good porn actor. And I'm not a man, so I don't have to worry about performance issues; I can fake it, thank goodness. That said, I don't know that I'd enjoy it; porn isn't real sex. But never having tried it, I can't say for certain.
b. phone sex operator
I don't like being on the phone with people. I've never been that into phone sex in the privacy of my own life, so I'm not sure this one would be for me. I've been told I'm decent at talking guys off, so it's more a personal preference than anything else.
c. escort/call-girl/giggolo
I'm not sure what the difference between this and "prostitute" is except possibly higher-class clientele. Well, that and the fact that it seems like escorts are required to do more social things before the sex. And that seems less pleasant than just meeting up to fuck someone. Still, the money and the social standing are better. I'm just not sure I'm elegant enough to pull this one off.
Oh, also, a regular stable rather than one-night stands, I suppose. I'm not sure whether that's better or worse. If a regular is lousy in bed but otherwise a good client, I'd feel like my service to the bottom line (rimshot) would come before my own enjoyment, which would be tedious. On the other hand, regulars mean you don't have to deal with unknowns.
d. prostitute
I've talked about this one before. I don't like to mix work with pleasure, really, and sex is pleasure for me, so I'm not at all sure I could keep enjoying sex if it were my job. Nothing to do with prostitution being dehumanizing or anything, just my own set of hang-ups. But of all the jobs on offer, this one I'd probably take before any of the others because it seems like, if you're in a good position, it pays fairly well and it's nothing I don't already do for free.
e. stripper
Sadly, I'm quite shy, so I don't think I could take my clothes off in front of strangers. Yes, this is very strange. And I have often joked, about auditions (for non-sexual things) that I would rather take my clothes off and dance naked in front of 100 strangers than do an audition piece in front of three people I know. But that's because I hate auditions.
I expect that if I could get over the initial hurdle, it would become easier for me. I have performed in various states of undress in the past, but that was a different vibe. Again, this is nothing against strippers who are wonderful people and have more balls than I've got.
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