Panties

Sexy notes wrote a follow-up question to the last post: "One thing that surprises me about your picnic encounters... what were you doing wearing panties???"

Well, I actually wear panties a lot of the time when I wear a skirt or dress. Believe it or not, I am pretty demure when it comes to being outside the house in mixed company. I don't always, and sometimes I'm feeling a bit naughty, but I'd say the majority of the time I'm wearing a skirt or dress, I'm wearing panties.

There are non-sexy reasons for that: I don't know where most things I sit on have been, so an extra layer of cloth between me and them is something I enjoy. Plus there's the fact that, while many people might enjoy being flashed glimpses of my nethers, others do not, and I'd rather be safe around the possibility of the latter.

There's also the fact that I think I look good in panties. I think most women do, at least if they're wearing panties that flatter them. Hell, there are plenty of men who look good in underwear of various kinds, and girls look sexy wearing boxer shorts, and so forth. 

And there's the fact that there's something extremely sexy to me about getting fucked with your panties pulled to one side. Panties are a kink of mine, I think.

There's also the practical matter that, if I get excited or creamed (ideally both) I like to have a layer of fabric to keep me from making a mess of my chair. That's just logistics.

And lastly, a lot of times when up-skirt action takes place, I wasn't expecting it to. I default to wearing panties when I'm not expecting a reason to want to divest myself of them, and I definitely default to wearing them when wearing skirts or dresses that are short, which my Fuck Me Dress is.

All of those factors conspired to put me in panties on the day of the picnic I was talking about. Well, most of them. I had a pretty good idea that I was going to get fucked that day but I didn't know he'd be up for shenanigans out in the open.

I don't remember his name. It was college and there are plenty of college boys whose names I don't remember. It was a yearly picnic that the college threw, to celebrate the onset of warmer weather. There'd be some music and entertainment throughout the day, and we were invited to spend it on picnic blankets. They'd even serve the cafeteria food outside. And there was booze aplenty

He was actually Gwen's boyfriend (Gwen, for those who don't remember, was my college roommate). That didn't mean a whole lot, but it did mean that I wasn't really expecting him to be totally receptive to advances. But I knew he could use his cock and I liked the look of him.

Gwen was off doing something at the time. He and I knew each other from other things as well, so it wasn't weird for me to sit with him on a blanket. And wouldn't you know it, I can't sit in the sun because I don't tan, I cancer, so the shade of a tree away from the major population centers was fine for both of us.

Now, had I been totally shameless, I would, as Sexy Notes suggests, not have worn panties. That would indeed have been an invitation to him, particularly had I guided his hand up my thigh or something. But while I was working on him, I didn't expect him to go for it until a bit more work was put in. Maybe once he loosened up and had a few drinks. No, I was not going to date rape this young man, but he wasn't exactly the loosest of people and I figured I could use a little help. Don't do as I do, kids. Respect boundaries.

But as it turned out, there was no reason to worry about respecting boundaries. I played a little coy and teased him a bit, but I'm pretty sure I was the only one who'd had a drink by the time things escalated. I was drinking tequila straight from the bottle. This was not allowed by the powers that be, but no one cared.

I don't recall exactly what gave rise to escalation (probably due to the tequila) but he asked me point blank whether I was coming on to my roommate's boyfriend, and I bashfully admitted that I thought he was cute. And I expected him to either shut me down or to say, ok, let's go someplace more comfortable. But instead he put his hand on my thigh and looked me right in the eyes and it became a case of who was seducing whom. I completely understood why Gwen was taken with him.

He basically invited me to sit between his legs while he put his arms around me from behind. My ass was up against his crotch, and I could feel his erection through his pants. I put my arms around his arms and covered for him moving his hands to my breasts and massaging them very nicely thank you. I was getting plenty aroused and he seemed to be too, but when I suggested that I sit in his lap, I wasn't sure how he'd respond. Not everyone is up for PDA, let alone basically dry-humping.

But he let me flip my skirt up so it was just his pants and my panties between us, and then he went back to kneading my tits and I just started rocking my butt against his cock. He got harder, which was nice because it showed that I was in for a treat.

And I probably could have suggested that we adjourn to my room, but for two reasons. One, neither of us really wanted Gwen to walk in on us. Him because I'm pretty sure he thought he was cheating on her, and me because I felt slightly guilty that I hadn't cleared it with her first. Also selfishness. There was every likelihood that she would have opened the door, seen us going at it, and said, "Jeez why didn't you wait for me," and joined in, and for whatever reason I didn't really want to share. I think I was getting off on the illicitness of it.

Two, it was so nice outside. The music was playing, the sun was shining, the air was a perfect temperature, and we were having a fine time right there. Going in would have meant packing shit up and going in.

So when I leaned back against him and whispered, 'Put it in me, please baby," I don't really blame him for going for it. The panties which were the start of this reminiscence were no impediment at all. His pants fly was a bit tougher, because it just wasn't in the right position, but unbuttoning and spreading them open fixed that, and then he pulled down the waistband of whatever underwear he was wearing, I forget, and his hard dick was sticking up under my skirt. I held my panties aside for a moment and we negotiated an entrance.

Looking back on it, anal probably would have been easier, but I didn't want that and he didn't ask for it. It thrust him up into the front of my pussy nicely, and it didn't take much movement on my part to make me cum. And Gwen is a doll, wonderful in the sack, but she doesn't cum like I do. He had his hands wrapped around my waist and he rocked his hips up and down a little. On close examination, we weren't fooling anyone, but no one was giving us close examination.

Plus there's the fact that one time at one of these picnics some girl gave a guy a drunken blowjob right in the middle of everything and no one cared, so us having quiet nookie on the outskirts wasn't going to raise any eyebrows. And no, that girl was not me.

I came, he enjoyed that, he nuzzled my neck, his hands massaged my hips, and we rocked gently for what seemed like hours but which was probably actually five minutes. Then he made me cum again, which made him cum. He slipped out of me, we adjusted our clothes as best as we could, and I lay back against his chest and we waited for dinner.

Then later, when things had quieted down considerably and the light had faded, he asked me if he could fuck me again, to which I replied yes please, and we found a secluded corner where no one could see and he pulled down my panties, up my skirt, and slid his rock hard rod into me. He lasted longer that time, through two orgasms on my part, before he pulled out and had me take it in the mouth. I would happily have taken another creampie but whatever.

After that, we agreed not to bother Gwen with the details. They dated for another month or so and then broke up. I admitted to fucking him after they broke up, mostly because she wanted sister solidarity and I lied a little and told her that he wasn't that good. I never fucked him again, which was fine with me because I had plenty of fish in the sea, and it wouldn't have been fair to Gwen to bring him around. He was cute though. I wonder what ever happened to him? 

And lastly, to those asking for photos, I'll see if I can track down a picture of me wearing my Fuck Me Dress, but no promises. And anyway, isn't the mental image you have better than any lousy photo could be?

Dressing and Undressing

I've always been partial to a good sundress, as I believe I've said in the past on here. I think they flatter me, and they're reasonable attire without being either too formal to wear most places or too slutty to wear most places. I mean, the sundress is a large enough category that that's not true for all things called sundresses, but you get my point.

Of late, however, I haven't been able to wear many of the sundresses I own because, not to put too fine a point on it, I don't feel comfortable in them. They don't flatter, or they're just not fitting right.

But I hesitate to get rid of them because part of me thinks, foolishly, that I'll still be able to wear them at some point. I need to find the source of this thought and kill it with fire because life is too short to hold on to foolish dreams, but it does bring me memories.

Part of why I like sundresses is because of a particular sundress, a yellow and white floral number that I call my Fuck Me Dress. It's not the only Fuck Me article of clothing I own, but this dress used to make me look hawt. And what was hotter, was that it was great to fuck in.

It's just long enough to be demure (on someone with a shorter frame it'd be positively saintly) while still being only a few inches away from seeing my panties. If I twirl in it, it rises provocatively, but still maintains an innocent air. It blouses a little in the chest which makes it look like I've got bigger boobs than I do, and it flatters my midsection.

But that's not why. It's just hard enough to get out of that it makes it more convenient to simply flip up the skirt, and the spaghetti straps are sized just right for pulling down the top. Many's the time I put it on for some other reason and Mike, or even Dad, ambushed me and pumped me full of seed before I could even use it to full effect on my intended target.

The skirt is just right for someone to rest a hand on my ass, and yeah, back in the day my ass looked hawt in that dress. It looked hot in plenty of things, to be perfectly honest. But a hand on my butt didn't disturb the way the fabric lay, and better still, because of its cunning construction, if the back of the skirt was flipped up the front still preserved it's modesty. 

I remember taking advantage of that one time at a picnic. I sat on my chosen target's lap on our blanket and slowly, achingly rubbed my ass on. His hardon until he finally couldn't take it and we managed to negotiate his cock out of his pants and my panties to one side and then he was inside me and it was a good thing we weren't close to the center of the crowd.

But even better, being fetched up against a tree, or a wall, dress pushed up, panties pulled down, and being properly fucked standing up, his hands down my top and holding my tits... Yeah, this was a great dress for that too.

And it rewarded the patient by coming off on many occasions as well. Or basically being cinched around my waist and forgotten in the heat of the moment. That dress has seen more fucking than most of my other clothes put together, I imagine.

And it no longer fits. It's a little threadbare anyway. I should probably get rid of it. Times change, and these days I wear pants to work and I don't have anywhere near as many guys clamoring to hike up my skirts a little. If I had a daughter, I would give it to her, as a good luck charm. As it is, it lives in my closet as a reminder.

Mercy Fuck

An anonymous reader asked me, "Have you ever given a mercy fuck?"

Well, I've described a few here. But it got me thinking. 

I used to give mercy blowjobs a lot. Once I was okay to do that (because I'd had my first time) I would frequently blow guys to get them out of my hair. Like, suppose I went out with a guy and he was clearly angling for some pussy but I just wasn't that into him? Yeah, I might offer up a bit of head to let him down easy.

I'm not saying I blew every guy I dated. At all. But if he was reasonably nice and I just wasn't feeling it, I could get him off with my mouth with no problem.

I did give a mercy blowie to a friend of a friend which then turned into a mercy fuck that wasn't really mercy. He and I had had a decent time, she was clearly stringing him along and he was pining for her, but she was dating a much more macho guy. Me, I don't get that. This less macho guy would have been better for her. But young people, you know.

Anyway, we had all been hanging out, he had been mooning over her, she had ditched both of us, and he had been a gentleman and offered to drive me home, which I appreciated. And he was painfully hard in his jeans, judging by the way he was walking. So I offered my standard blowjob, no strings attached. It was pretty obvious he wasn't interested in me, but I figured I could help a brother out.

He accepted, which surprised me a little, but again, young people. When you're offered a free blowjob by a girl, I guess you don't look a gift horse in the mouth, so to speak. But he stayed hard after a fair amount of ministration on my part, and he was warming up to me, so I guess I wanted to see if he could stay hard inside me. I was half expecting him to press in and go off, given how hard up he must have been, but after we established that the road to home plate was open and he was being waved there by my third base coach, he let me ride him in the back seat of his car for a respectable period. It didn't escape my notice that he wanted to do reverse cowgirl and was probably fantasizing about his actual love. I didn't care. He was hard and he used it well.

I don't remember the upshot of the evening except that we became good friends and never fucked again. I think he mooned over my girlfriend for the rest of high school, then he went off to college and we lost touch.

But that wasn't really mercy.

Let's see. I once was wingman for a girl I sort of knew who had the hots for this guy, and he brought along a plus one too, so it was a foursome, and when the two primaries hit it off, the respective wingmen were mostly left to our own devices. My opposite number was not my type at all. But this was back in the days when my type was more broadly defined, shall we say, and I felt sorry for him, so when the primaries went off together to her place or his, who knows, I invited the wingman back to my dorm with me.

I was thinking I'd just get off giving him a blowjob, but he pulled out condoms like a magician, and frankly I had nothing else to do that evening. So I got naked and let him grope me a while, then let him fuck me in an extremely unenjoyable manner, got a load on my tits for my trouble, then sent him packing. That was definitely mercy.

But the one I remembered when asked the question was this older guy at a bar who bought me a drink. Now, I'm not against older guys, but he wasn't particularly appealing. Until he said something along the lines of, "I know I don't have a chance in Hell with you, but I'm buying you a drink for the privilege of pretending for a minute." Something like that. Which is a decent pickup line, honestly, and maybe he was just a really good actor, but he seemed really sincere, and so I let him chat me up a little.

And he seemed nice once we got to know each other, and it wasn't like I was beating guys off with a stick that night, so I let him take me home. Older bachelor pads are a bit pathetic but I ignored it. I don't remember the act itself except that he was decent with his cock and pretty good with his hands. He was a perfect gentleman the whole time too. We lay in bed and chatted after the first time, about his ex wife, oddly enough, but not in a bad way. I think he was still shocked he'd landed me. I told him I didn't see why, which was more kind than true but was self-deprecating in the way I tend to be. Then after a bit he was ready and we fucked again. I know I came.

So sometimes mercy is rewarded, I guess. Or, if you're a guy, be a gentleman and shoot your shot and maybe it'll work out better than you expect? I don't know. I suck at morals.

Weird Stuff I've Used For Lube

 I was thinking the other day about lube and how I don't always have it even though I try to keep it everywhere. This put me in mind of a few lube-related stories.

The first time I got fucked in the ass without lube other than pussy juice and spit, I was ready for it to be difficult, but pussy juice actually makes a pretty decent lube. At least mine does. I should probably say, "the first time I got fucked in the ass on purpose without lube," because the first time I ever got fucked in the ass was with Mike and it was a total accident when it happened.

This was with an older guy, not old enough to be my father or anything but a few years older, and we were pretty hot and heavy the entire evening. He got his cock sucked to warm up, then he fucked me in my clothes in his parked car, then he still wasn't done and he asked me if I liked anal. Hell yeah I liked anal. But no lube.

Fucking in his car was kind of uncomfortable, plus it was nighttime now and we were parked on a deserted stretch of road, so we moved out of the car to the hood. He already had my panties off, but he got my skirt off too, then he lubed up his finger with spit and pressed that into my ass, then bent me even farther over and slid his entire length into my cunt. I came, hard. He felt that, and pulled out and pressed into my ass, which was nice and tight. I almost dropped out of the O, it was so intense.

The other thing I remember about that evening was that, as he was fucking my ass, pressing my face down on the hood of his car, another car drove by. The headlights illuminated us for a few seconds, but they didn't stop, so maybe they didn't see us. Or maybe they did and disapproved but not strongly enough to call the cops. I've always wondered what would have happened had they stopped and asked to join. I was wild back then and I probably would have left them, even if it was a busload of football players or something.

Had I been a bit older I probably would have had some lube in my purse. I usually do. But sometimes you get stuck someplace where your purse isn't. I was fucking a guy in the closet at one of my first jobs, and the room this closet was a part of got occupied, and we were stuck half naked in the closet until they left. He started feeling me up again, like the threat of discovery was turning him on.

Frankly it turned me on too. This was at an after-hours function. And when the activity outside the closet got sexy too, both he and I were raring to go. I came on his fingers twice before he even entered me, I was that wound up.

But this is a story about lube, or the lack thereof. In this case, I wasn't feeling confident in my ability to take him in the ass because he was really thick, but I really wanted him in the ass because, well, I'm a sucker for a challenge. The closet we were trapped in was more of a utility room, and yeah, there were some containers of various things, and one of them was hand soap for the bathrooms.

I do not recommend this course of action. Just take him the traditional vaginal way. But I'd already told him I wanted him in my ass bad, and he suggested the hand soap. Let's just say it worked but my ass didn't feel quite right for a day or so after. And cleanup was a pain. I didn't really bother, but he had to wash his cock off in the sink before he could put his pants back on.

I've used olive oil as an anal lube many times. You shouldn't use it with condoms, but if you're raw-dogging it like I do far too often, it's totally fine. As is baby oil, but olive oil lends a nice perfume to things.

Let me see... I used bacon grease (not hot) once because Mike wanted to see if it made me taste like bacon. It did. He tasted like bacon too. I used hands lotion a few times, but again, not a course of action I'd recommend.

Oil has a lot going for it though. It's not water based so you can use it underwater, or rather you can apply it and it won't wash away. I used to use baby oil before any beach escapades. I'd lube my pussy up nice and slick, slip on my bikini, and be ready to pull it to one side underwater and get fucked.

Have you ever used anything odd as lube? Let me know in the comments, or via email, or on Twitter, or whatever.

Over Under

An anonymous pal asks, "Can you think of any encounters where you were particularly pleasantly surprised? (In other words, you didn't expect that much and it turned out to be surprisingly great.) How about unpleasantly surprised (expected great, turned out to be disappointing)?"

I tend to go into random encounters with low expectations, which is fine because I'm easy to get off, so anything above a baseline of "I came" is a pleasant surprise, but that's not particular. I could probably point back to things in the past of this blog, but that's no fun. So I'm going to try to recall a few times off the cuff when I was pleasantly/unpleasantly surprised.

I remember I went on a few dates, actual dates, with a guy who was very nice but seemed to have no desire to get into my pants at all, to the point where I was about to ask him why he wanted to keep dating if he wasn't going to at least try. Turns out he thought I was significantly more innocent than I am (significantly more, like he thought I might be a virgin) and was kind of confused by the fact that I was kind of putting out signals. But he was fairly innocent, and when he finally got up the nerve to ask if I wanted to come back to his place after a date, maybe for coffee or a movie or something, I was so horny that he could have gotten lucky in the car on the way to his place if he'd wanted to.

We got there, we sat on the sofa, I said something along the lines of, "You can kiss me if you'd like," because clearly he needed some encouragement and it was either that or just start taking off articles of clothing and see what he did. He kissed me rather chastely. I'm not a chaste kisser. I don't want it to seem like I was bulldozing over his objections, but I was putting out every womanly signal I had, short of trying to wave the pheromones from my pussy into his nose.

I don't recall exactly what broke the ice, but whatever it was, shortly thereafter I was half-naked on his couch, he was pulling down his briefs (briefs! so adorable), and I got the first pleasant shock of the evening when his cock emerged and he was definitely larger than average, which the tightness of the whiteys hadn't allowed to be evident before. I know, you'd think there would have been a giant bulge, but it looked normal sized until his shaft just kept coming out of his undies.

Still, I was figuring he wasn't going to be an enthusiastic lay, given his need to have The Joy of Sex thrown repeatedly at him. But first off, he ate pussy like a champ. Didn't want a blowjob, just wanted a snack in the box. I came repeatedly, and while I'm fairly easy to get off, repeatedly from oral signifies a better than average time.

Then I thought, okay, he's making sure I get mine and he doesn't want any in return because he's a hair trigger. That's okay. I had totally gotten mine. If he pressed in and came immediately, I would still have called it a good date. But he had stamina. When he got inside me, I had to concentrate on not getting split in two, and then he started slowly thrusting in and out, in and out, until he was bottoming out and then pulling back until just the head was inside me, and I came again, which I expected would maybe signal an end to his performance.

But no. First missionary, then from behind, then he pulled me on top even though I was pretty blissed out by that point and started jackhammering into me from below, and then finally he pulled out and asked politely if I could suck him the rest of the way off, which didn't take too long but was still a respectable finish. Thick, ropey cum, but didn't taste too strong, and then we snuggled for a bit until I felt him getting hard against me again.

I asked him if he needed more, and he seemed a little sheepish, like he was afraid I wouldn't be up for it. I very nearly wasn't, but this was in my younger, more elastic days, and I just helped him into me from behind and we spooned and fucked slowly for what felt like ages until he said he was ready to go off and I just let him go inside me because I was extremely tuckered out by that point.

You may ask why I'm not currently married to this guy. The answer is that we just weren't a good fit in other ways. I set him up with a friend of mine, who thanked me profusely after because she hadn't had to jump through the hoops I did, and we saw each other a few more times in various places, then drifted apart. But that's a nice memory. I wish I'd ridden the train a bit longer than twice, but I got off plenty during those two times.

Now, the less pleasant part of the question. I can think of a few, not as detailed because who wants to remember disappointment. There was a guy in high school who had supposedly bedded every single girl I knew, to hear them tell it he was amazing, and my standards were lower at the time. He was a total dick during our date (I am so glad I've grown out of needing to have a date with someone to fuck them), not to me as much as to the waiter, which is a deal-breaker for me, but I knew he wasn't dating material and I was basically sitting through the previews to get to the movie, as it were.

The movie was terrible. He took me back to his place, his "party pad" where his divorced dad had custody and was never home from work, and we rounded the bases pretty handily, and then I was blowing him and he came in my eye, which doesn't bother me the way it bothers some people but threw me off a little because he didn't warn me at all, just grabbed my head and spewed. And then it took forever to get him hard again, to the point where he had to watch porn to get it up, and then wanted to keep watching the porn while fucking me from behind like I was basically a sex toy. I got off, just, and he barely made it out of me before painting my lower back white. I would have let him cum inside me but Catholic school makes rhythm method practitioners of all its inmates.

That was disappointing to the point that I needed to go home and get fucked by Mike to wash the bad taste out of my mouth (figuratively speaking; I don't think the guy tasted bad or I might not have continued the evening at all).

The other underwhelming experience that comes immediately to mind was in college. There was the drop-dead gorgeous girl who had hinted to me that she was interested in pursuing some experimentation with the fairer sex in the bedroom, and I'm always open for "girl's first lesbianism" parties. She was porn star gorgeous. No, she was model gorgeous. And I wanted to undress her in the worst way. I had seen glimpses of her hidden delights but never the whole package.

Let me tell you, whatever other disappointments I might have had, seeing her naked was not one of them. I suppose I shouldn't have expected much from the rest of it, since it was her first time, but rather than be nervous or excited she was like a cold fish, and then she basically wanted me to eat her out while she lay there and provided no feedback until finally she gasped a few times, then pushed me away and said the evening was over. I wasn't particularly depressed to hear that, honestly, since she'd provided very little in the way of enjoyment for yours truly. I kept the image of her naked in my head for a while though. God, if she'd been at all a good lay, but she wasn't. I guess she decided she didn't really want to sample sapphic bliss after all. I heard from a guy who had fucked her that she wasn't a cold fish with him.

I could probably summon up more, but I'm going to leave it with those. Like I said, disappointments aren't as fun to remember as pleasant surprises, and now I'm wishing I knew where the guy from my first story wound up, and if he was up for a threesome.

I hope this answers your questions, anonymous pal, and thank you for asking them. If you'd like to ask any questions of me, even silly ones, my inbox and comments are always open, and I respect anonymity as you can see.

Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

A question from an anonymous fan who knows who they are:

When's the last (or most memorable) time you had sex in a car, train, plane, boat? Or any other transportation mode I'm missing.

I've never had sex on a plane, largely because I've never flown on a plane. Plus, I hear the Mile High Club is not all it's cracked up to be. But sorry to disappoint any die-hard fetishists out there. I don't believe in Bernouli's Principle so I make it my business not to occupy vehicles where my lack of belief will shatter the illusion that allows you denialists to enjoy powered flight. If you've ever seen the Monty Python sketch where El Mystico is putting up blocks of flats by hypnosis, that's how I feel about planes.

I'm sure I've told some car sex stories in the past. Pretty sure I also mentioned some bus hanky panky as well. So I won't tell those stories again, memorable though they may have been. A memorable story about car sex I haven't already told is called for.

On the day before my wedding I went to the train station to pick up my old roomie from college, Gwen. She was traveling from far enough away that a train made more sense for her, but I didn't want her to have to get a cab from the nearest stop which is surprisingly far from where our wedding venue was, so I said sure, I'll pick you up.

I was a little stressed out. Not going to lie. Nerves and so forth, plus we were basically planning a giant party for a bunch of people, many of whom wouldn't know each other, and then after were planning several smaller after-parties. I'm not a party planner.

I picked up Gwen and she took one look at me and said, "You're shitting a brick. I can tell." Never one to sugar-coat things, is Gwen.

I admitted that yes, I was shitting a series of bricks.

"I know what will make you feel better."

I had no idea what she was going to suggest, but I was pretty sure I would have to say no, because the tables still had to be picked up and set up plus a lot of decorating, plus etc. etc. But Gwen is a bad influence on me, or maybe she's a good influence but she influences me.

"What?"

"You need to get off. I know that look. When's the last time you had any?"

I admitted that it had been probably a day or so. We'd just been too tired and stressed to find the time, which should tell you something.

"Find somewhere quiet to park and I'll get you off real quick."

And though I had things to do and people to see and places to go, I grinned and found someplace where it wouldn't be immediately obvious to anyone walking by what was going on, and then pulled down my pants and panties and let Gwen fingerbang me hard. Like, I haven't been fingered like that in a car since I was in high school hard, and the last time it wasn't done with any skill. She shushed my protests and got her lips around my left nipple and her fingers just kept slamming up into my clit from the inside, and I came, and then came again. And then she licked her fingers, and we drove off, chatting like nothing had happened.

It did help the stress a little, and it was only when I was about to get out of the car to see her to the door of her hotel room that I realized I'd been driving around bare-ass the whole time. That made us both chuckle.

So that's a recent car story. Now for water transport.

I went to a day camp when I was younger, out in the woods where kids couldn't do any harm, with a swimming pool and a local creek for canoes and kayaks. I was really good at swimming and boating when I was younger, actually. I've forgotten a lot of it now, plus I'm not young anymore so my muscles don't work like they used to, but at that point I could have been a lifeguard had I felt like doing it. I would go to this camp for a few weeks every summer, just to get me out of the house.

The counselors at the camp were, for the most part, older, but there were a few who were barely older than the oldest campers, and one year, I think it was the last year I was young enough to go, there was this guy I'd known when he was a camper. We'd flirted a little, but I think he was too insecure to have gone for anything much.

Because I was good in the water I was allowed to do all kinds of things like take the rowboat out on the creek without supervision. So I made it my mission to find someone (a guy, likely, because at this point I was still convinced I was straight and just occasionally fooled around with girls) to go with me on a rowboat trip around the bend to where no one could see us and fool around.

I tried, I really did, but it was getting late in the summer and I had had no takers. All the boys wanted to do their own thing in their own boats. Macho pride, etc. And cute counselor saw me looking glum and asked me what was up, to which I replied, without really thinking, that I was annoyed that no one wanted to take a boat trip with me."I'll go with you," he said.

Bullseye.

He wasn't a counselor in charge of boating so he knew less about the activity than I did, which was just as well. I was showing off a little, and he was being responsive, and when I looked around and there was no one in sight and said, "Do you want to kiss?" or something to that effect, shockingly, he said yes. So I shipped oars and we floated downstream slowly and made out. He wasn't moving quickly enough for my taste (which in those days was definitely directed toward action rather than foreplay) so I had to guide his hands to my tits, but once he knew that I was totally going to put out, he was ready to go.

We had to be gentle so we didn't capsize the boat, and we were both a bit nervous about being spotted, but once I had his cock out and was blowing him, he was mine, hook, line, and sinker. When I lay back without finishing him in my mouth, his face did a gorgeous one eighty from disappointed to enthralled. I pulled down my shorts and panties (skirts were definitely not done at this camp) and guided him into me. He didn't last that long, but he was hard inside me and after he pulled back and jizzed onto my belly, I cleaned myself up and then fingered myself until I came.

He was getting hard again after watching that display, but we'd reached the part of the creek where it was likely we'd hit rapids, so bare-ass (which seems to be the theme for this post) I rowed us to the shore, and we hopped out and fucked up against a tree, and this time I got what little load there was inside me and managed to cum on his cock too. Not in a boat that time but part of the story.

And then I never saw him again. I'm not joking; I think it was close to the last day of my camp experience that summer, and if it wasn't my last summer there, he didn't come back as counselor the next summer. I don't recall. Details get fuzzy.

I can't think of any other modes of transportation to cover. If you can, drop me a line or comment or whatever. If you can't but you can think of a question to ask, ditto.

What Sveta and I Did for Two Years

TT asked me what Sveta and I did for the past two years, and while I probably glossed over that in some past post, I figured why not, I'll do an inventory.

We mostly stayed at home until much more recently. Now I'm back at work so it's been an adjustment not being together as much. Still, being able to see friends has helped.

But I know you're not asking about whether we took up breadmaking. Honestly, I didn't do any breadmaking at all, though I did polish some culinary skills.

My operation to fix my lady-parts issues by removing some of those parts was only about a month before everything went to shit and we were locked down, so I was still recovering from that when the Quarantimes hit. Which you might think meant that I was laid up and unable to get laid, but while I was very nervous about exploring my own boundaries, being "stuck" at home with Sveta with nothing to do meant that I explored hers plenty. She got so many orgasms that first month, when we weren't sure how long it would last and were making up for all kinds of lost time.

I finally got over the mental stuff that had been keeping me from letting her really work me out over the summer of 2020, and though our pace had somewhat slowed down because it was clear by then that we were in it for the long haul, we still had plenty of fun. We really got into tribbing, or scissoring, or whatever you want to call it, and that's been a real added spice to our lovemaking routine. Up to that point I'd never really gotten the appeal, but when I was still a little worried about penetration (because of stitches and also because I was convinced that it would hurt and prove that I wasn't better after all) Sveta suggested we try it.

We started using a vibe between us, with the business end in her and the vibrations against my clit, which worked okay but wasn't what I'd really call tribbing. Then one day we were just fooling around, making out lazily, and my thigh got between her legs and her thigh got between mine and we started, for lack of a better word, humping each other (I know, it sounds so sexy) and both of us really liked that. It's the body contact that you get from it, I think, that does it for us. We can get really close to one another, feel our breasts pressed together, kiss, stroke, the whole thing.

Anyway, once we were doing that, we tried some other things until we wound up being able to press our pussies together in a position which looks really awkward I'm sure but lets us hug and trib and finger, and that's what we've been doing ever since, although now that penetration is back on the menu we do plenty of double dil and strapon stuff too, to say nothing of oral. In fact, oral is probably what happens most often, but we still enjoy other positions, and since we're at awkward heights to 69, tribbing is the best way for that full-body contact to happen.

What else? We did order a double dil online. I support brick and mortar whenever possible but our old one was getting a little floppy and at that point we were reasonably flush (again, not knowing how long we'd both be out of work) so we went ahead and got one. He's bigger than our old one, with nice knobby bits that feel good inside.

I got more into eating ass. I'm still not super into it, but Sveta loves the feeling, and I wanted her to try out her ass more, so I swallowed my hangups and went for it. It helps that her ass smells okay. Yes, I know, she's perfect, farts rainbows, doesn't sweat, all that. I love her. What can I say? I still haven't tossed a boy's salad, but I've done a few girls other than Sveta and I can say with certainty that I prefer doing it to her. I don't get much from it so she doesn't do it to me unless toys or fingers are also involved, but she has no problem with it. I think it's the youth of today. Apparently not eating ass is a cardinal sin for the Zoomer.

We tried a little watersports, which I think I'm more into than Sveta is. She doesn't love the taste, but she's totally fine with pressing our pussies together and peeing on each other, which is fine by me since I've kind of lost the taste for it myself. We haven't done that in a while. Just haven't been in the mood.

Since things opened up more, Sveta and I shared Zoe regularly. Once we were all vaccinated she was our first visitor. This was when she still supposedly had a girlfriend. I guess, actually, it's not right to say that Sveta and I shared Zoe. Sveta and Zoe shared me. That's a whole other can of worms.

We've seen Kate and Liam a few times. I haven't written about all of them. I can start if someone wants me to.

We've also seen my family and hers a few times since vaccinations. Mostly non-sexy stuff. 100% not sexy with her family, and with mine it's been getting takeout, mostly. Sex may have happened but it was incidental to the occasion, which is, as I've said, how my family rolls.

Other than that, it was a lot of cooking shows, a fair amount of me driving Sveta out into the countryside so she didn't have to be cooped up in the house all day, some weight gain, and then false hopes dashed repeatedly. You didn't come here to read about the mundane details.

Anyway, thanks TT for asking a question; I hope that was a sufficient response. You can ask questions too. Just comment or email me at lexinaughtygirly[AT]gmail.com.

Eggs

I remembered something worth sharing about the Quarantimes (Phase 1? I'm not sure we ever really finished the first iteration of it, we just... whatever).

Easter has never been a huge deal in my household, as I think I may have mentioned in the past. We used to go up to Aunt Jenny's for Easter but with her gone, it's usually very low-key. I've told some stories in the past about various fun activities we've tried, but mostly it's just an excuse to eat some chocolate and maybe fuck, in that order.

Sveta's family has always been more into Easter, and so for a few of the years we've been together, she's gone home, even though it involved going home. I obviously wasn't invited to some of them, and then after we got married, well, her step mom is a bitch and I can't stand being around her, so...

Anyway, all of that is to say that she was feeling somewhat disconsolate during the first Easter where we couldn't do anything but sit around the house, and then when another Easter rolled around and we still couldn't do much of anything, I knew I had to find something to entertain her. We had ham and traditional crap, some Easter candy, and then I unveiled my surprise; a stone egg pelvic floor exercise ball.

I've never been one for balls like that, but it was too perfect for Easter, machine-washable, pussy-safe, all that jazz. I couldn't find a squishy one I liked for cheap enough; that's what I really wanted to get, because it feels amazing when you squeeze one inside you. But the stone (I think it's either granite or quartz, not that I'm a believer in putting crystals up your vajay) one was pretty, cheap for some reason, and I enjoy the idea that we can put it out innocuously and people will probably handle it without knowing, because I'm a sick monkey.  Also some people will handle it knowingly.

I also, God help me, bought a pair of extremely cheap buttplugs with bunny rabbit tails on them.

Sveta was sufficiently amused by the ridiculousness of it all that she forgot about feeling bummed out that we were trapped indoors for a second consecutive Easter. She wanted me to try out the egg first, but I told her it was her present and she was the one who liked Easter so much so she got to be the first Easter Bunny.

Suffice it to say that she had a bit of a time handling both a bunny tail buttplug and a fairly heavy stone egg in her cooch, so there wasn't much hopping around at first. Hell, I couldn't really hop unless I held my hand over my nethers to do so. Not a practical exercise egg for most, I wouldn't say. But we had fun dropping it dripping out of us and then sticking it back up and giggling and dropping it again because we couldn't help it.

We gave up on the egg pretty quick but we did enjoy keeping the plugs in for a while, until I said something about fucking like rabbits and so I got to be the big buck bunny, pulled on a strapon and fucked my doe hard until she was begging for mercy. Then I was gentle tongue and fiddly fingers until she came, which popped the buttplug out. They're really much smaller than we're used to, but I figured it would be hard enough to work with the egg so I underestimated a little.

And then she ate whipped cream off my pussy while I came and came. That's as close as I can get to squirting, really. We don't usually stick the nozzle in, she just licks it off my lips and clit and that's more than enough.

If we're forced to spend another Easter alone, I'm thinking of investing in a wireless vibe egg. I don't really have the money, but hey, life is short.

Also, I'm sorely tempted, no matter how stupid the idea is, to shove hard boiled eggs up my cunt. Someone talk me out of it please.

TMI Either Or

Pancakes or waffles?

Slight edge to waffles because I don't get them anywhere near as often. I like both Belgian and regular. But pancakes are good too, and they're incredibly easy to throw together. I've made pancakes with just flour, baking powder, and water and they were fine.

Steak or Lobster?

Steak. Lobster is overrated. It's good, but it used to be garbage food fed to prisoners, and if it still cost next to nothing I'd probably be much more interested in eating it. I just don't get the mystique. It's overgrown crawdad.

Freckles or dimples?

Dimples by a nose. They're cute. I have freckles though, so I may be biased against the mundane here.

Board games or video games?

Board games by a country mile. I'm terrible at video games. I wish I could get someone to play board games with me, but I can't, so I usually wind up playing video games and sucking at them and being miserable.

Dress up or dress down?

There are two ways to interpret this question. The bland answer is that while I spend much of my life dressing down, I love to dress up.

The exciting answer is about the logistics of wearing a dress when access to the goods is required. And I think a case can be made for both. I love it when a guy puts a hand up my dress, or flips the back of my dress up to pull down my panties and fuck me. But the tits, there's the rub. So it's best to pull the top of the dress down for better access to the twins, while pulling the bottom of the dress up for penetration. There really is nothing like a good, messy fuck with your panties around one ankle, dress hiked up to expose your ass, him pounding away from behind into your cunt (or asshole, I'm easy) with the zipper of his jeans poking you with every thrust. That little bit of pain every time just adds a slight frisson to the act. And depending on the dress, he can pin your arms to your sides by pulling it down so he can press your bare breasts into the wall.

I haven't had this in forever. I might have to seek it out.

Backseat of car or kitchen counter? (Of course I’m talking about a spontaneous place to have sex)

In my decrepit state of age, comfort is better than speed, and the back seat of a car is not a comfortable place to get laid. Sometimes it's exciting, but it's not comfortable, especially for a tall girl. So I'm going with kitchen counter, because wearing nothing but an apron while being bent over the counter is a great way to pass the time while waiting for the roast to be done.

Nipple clamps or handcuffs? Tell us why you chose your particular sexual encounter enhancement?

My nipples are sensitive buds which don't care for a lot of pressure, so handcuffs all the way. A little light bondage is fine sometimes. It makes me feel like I'm entirely in my partner's control. However, it's important that the handcuffs be easy-open, because there are too many horror stories about losing keys in the heat of the moment.

Well, that got a little steamy, so let's launch right into some questions which are more raunchy.

Tell us two reasons why you would stay in a bad relationship.

Sunk cost fallacy, or feeling like if I left them they wouldn't survive it. I've done both. Turns out sometimes you've just got to let things go if they weren't meant to be.

Do you wish your private life was kinkier?

Over the past year Sveta and I had a bit of time to try some things, so I think we're doing okay in the kink department, but there's always room for improvement.

Tell us about your weirdest sexual experience.

Superlatives like this are hard. I've told plenty of weird sex stories in the past, but maybe I can dredge up another.

Okay, one time a girl wanted me to fist her. No big deal, I've done it even if I don't personally get fisted often. I explained that to her and she said she didn't want to do it to me, but apparently the only way she could get off was with something enormous in her cunt, and that usually meant that her lady friends fisted her.

The weird part was that her clit was so sensitive that I couldn't even breathe on it or she'd be in pain. So I'm wrist-deep in her and she's urging me on, telling me to basically punch her in the cervix, to run all my fingers hard into the upper wall of her pussy, but the exposed area, I can't even look at without her wincing. That was odd enough. Then, at the height of her arousal, as she was getting ready to crest that summit and come crashing down, her clit is huge and red and practically throbbing, and she basically screamed, "I'm gonna motherfucking cum so hard!" and then slapped her clit.

And it was like she flicked a switch from normal arousal to seizure. She just went totally tense, her back arched, and her pelvis thrust up like I was pulling her up with my arm inside her, and she made this tiny whimpering noise and vibrated for what felt like an eternity but was probably more like five seconds, then her whole body went limp and I found my hand so deep in her that her labia were halfway up my arm.

I thought she was dead for a second, then she moaned, "Please Lexi, again." So I went back to feeling like I was really hurting her, but eventually I kind of got into it. She was making all kinds of noises, and I could feel the nub of her cervix and she liked it when I felt it, and when her hips started bucking a little I started moving my arm with them until I really was kind of pulling her ass off the bed by fisting her cunt.

Then she breathlessly begged me to rub her clit, which was swollen to almost purple, and she screamed when I did and did the whole tense-relax thing again, but this time I was ready so I kept solid pressure inside and out and she didn't shy away from it but just tensed and relaxed another few times, then finally collapsed and fell asleep.

I did not get mine from her, and I had to rub one out for myself and then, since she showed no signs of waking up, tuck her into bed and leave her apartment. My arm hurt like I'd been lifting weights, which I guess I was. My bicep in particular hurt like hell. But it certainly was an experience. And she later told me that it was the best orgasm she'd ever had, and wanted me to do it again, but it never worked out, so I have no idea whether she could give anywhere near as good as she received.

Can you have a totally hands-free orgasm?

I can cum from just being fucked, so yes. I can also cum without my hands through the cunning use of another person's lips, so yes. I can also cum by the application of a vibratory apparatus to my nethers, so yes. But hands help, most times.

What tips can you give for staying hard (you personally or keeping your partner hard)? 

If they're losing texture during the act, there might well be something psychological going on, or even something physical. But if we're just talking about keeping my partner hard for an extended period of edging or something, without getting them to go off, oral is my go-to. I can vary the sensation sufficiently to keep a partner from cumming while keeping them at the ready. Unless they're not into it, licking balls, asshole, taint, or even just the base of the cock can help prolong the inevitable while keeping the blood where it needs to be.

Do you have a special place you like to have sex regularly?

My parents' bed. My bed. Leaving aside those obvious answers, I like to have sex in theaters.

Are you annoying?

In bed? I try not to be.

A person whom you’ve had “the hots” for a very long time tells you they are super attracted to you. You spend a few hours together and the sexual attraction is overwhelming. You are dying to have this person as your lover. At the moment you are highly aroused, and he/she wants to have sex with you in a church, would you do it?

Oh my god in a heartbeat. That would make it better. Sacrilegious I know, but I still have, "fuck in a church" on my naughty Catholic schoolgirl bucket list.

While in the middle of the best lovemaking of your life, if your lover asked you to squeal like a dolphin, would you?

It wouldn't have to be the best. I might giggle a little, but I do that anyway.

Are you good in bed?

I flatter myself to think that I'm pretty good in bed. I've not had many complaints.

Ask questions, sexy or otherwise, in the comments, or via email (lexinaughtygirly[AT]gmail.com).

Updates

What have I been up to, you may ask.

1) Sveta and I got married. Mostly for tax purposes, we like to say, and I'd be lying if that wasn't part of the calculus. Another part was that if either of us had to go to the hospital (which it turned out was prescient, about which more further down the page) it would be good to be married for the purposes of sorting through that kind of bullshit. And there was definitely an element of, "If we don't do it now, we may not be allowed to do it in future," which as yet has not turned out to be as prescient, but please don't relax on the LGBTQI-rights front.

It didn't really change our relationship, and we didn't want it to, but it was nice. I love her, she loves me, we're married, and it's still strange to say, "my wife," in conversation. Partially because I didn't think it would ever happen, partially because I figured I'd have to get straight-married. Lesbian-married is better because we both got to wear dresses.

The ceremony was nothing exciting. We had a wedding party afterward which didn't immediately degenerate into debauchery because the in-laws were there. Sveta's father was surprisingly supportive. Sveta's mother-in-law looked like she could spit nails. But anyway, the party was nice, just friends and well-wishes, and then some of us had gotten hotel rooms in the same hotel so we did wind up having a bit of a fun time for our wedding night. It's been long enough that I don't know that I can play-by-play it even if I wanted to, but Sveta finally got to fuck the members of the family she'd been missing on her card and when we finished with Sheri, Mari (yes, she came, and yes, she came), and Mike, there was a whole other party with some of our friends who showed us a very nice time as well.

2) My parents are okay. Mike and my sisters are okay. There have been some health things, but nothing major. Mari finally tied the knot with her long-time partner, though there was no corresponding wingding for that. I'm still not sure how much her partner knows about her family. She was very nice at the wedding but didn't show up for any of the more sexual festivities. It's Mari's life. I'm not judging. Much.

3) I had to have my lady parts removed. Well, a lot of them. The pain just got to be too much, and finally I found a doctor who would listen and not think I was making it up, and it turned out that yeah, the uterus and one of the ovaries needed to go. The operation went smoothly, the recovery went smoothly, and aside from some lingering psychological stuff which made me somewhat wary at first, I have been having pain-free orgasms in the quantities to which I used to be accustomed ever since. Of course...

4) Then COVID hit, so until I got my vaccination, Sveta and I were stuck with just each other as partners, which didn't put much strain on the relationship but did make me wish like hell I knew a magic spell to give one or both of us a cock temporarily. We had to stop seeing everyone. Even Zoe, who...

5) Zoe is still a thing in our lives. She has a girlfriend now, but we see her often enough, now that we're all vaccinated. I think she was a little crushed that I married Sveta, but she came to the wedding (this was prior to her getting a girlfriend) and participated in the after-after-party, wherein she got fucked seventeen ways to Sunday by a bunch of hot lesbians, which I think got her over her infatuation with me. Or maybe not, but she hasn't shown any signs of pining over me that I've seen. It's complicated. I wish it weren't.

6) Kate, Liam, and Kevin are also continuing to be seen by us. Let me try that sentence again. We see Kate, Liam, and Kevin as often as we all can spare the time. Kevin came out a few Prides ago, we were all super proud of him, and both he and his brother have found partners outside the home, though it doesn't seem to last. They're young. I won't start worrying just yet.

7) Anything else I'm forgetting? Pop a question in the comments, or email, or write it in fiery letters across the sky above my house.

Summer Swims

In the waning days of summer, Sveta and I have found a bit of time to go to some pools to get some water time.  She really loves the water, wishes we could go to the beach, but we can't afford it so a poor substitute is a swimming pool.  And I used to be a fish in my youth.  I was never a competition swimmer, but I passed all kinds of Red Cross certifications and probably could have been a life guard had I been a bit older and also less likely to die of skin cancer.

I've lost most of my skill, but I still love being underwater and feeling weightless.  Sveta doesn't like to go under water, and I think she's missing the best part, but she enjoys it nonetheless.  I don't have the breath control I once had (stop snickering in the back row, that has nothing to do with it) but I can still manage a respectable distance underwater.  I've just lost some speed and stamina, to say nothing of not liking to get water in my ears or burning my eyes with chlorine.

But nothing sexy has come of our swimming trips.  Still, they've made me remember a story I don't think I've told yet, so I will.

I was old enough to attract attention, if perhaps too young for that attention to be entirely appropriate.  Among boys of my own age group, sure, that was fine, but I would sometimes see older men looking at me too, frolicking around in my bikini (I love bikinis), maybe not as good a swimmer as I had been as a child, but still perfectly at home in the water.  A teen, not hard on the eye, and fully bloomed into sexuality, so it was natural that some gazes lingered.  I'm not really excusing dirty old men, but I didn't mind and they were discreet in their ogling.  I think my father would have been upset that his daughter was being eyebanged by fathers at the pool, but I was old enough to go on my own and I wasn't doing anything other than letting them look.

I remember I had my eye on a life guard.  That was rare air; they were aloof and intimidating and probably in college (gasp, so old) but damn was he cute.  I don't always go for the tanned hunk of man meat, and looking back with older eyes he wasn't exactly Baywatch, but he looked tasty.  But like I said, rare air, and I may be brazen with my sexuality but I'm still quite shy, so I eyebanged him a little from a distance and let others do the same to me, and it all seemed frivolous and a bit pointless but fun.

But I was with friends (well, "friends," they were girls and guys my age and they tolerated my presence and didn't treat me like shit) and eventually one of them must have caught me looking and said, "You've got the hots for Hottie Life Guard!" like it was some big secret I couldn't stand anyone to know.

"He's kind of cute," I said, the way that teens admit a crush, bashful and full of insignificance.  No big deal.  I was just looking.

"Yeah he is.  You should talk to him."

No, that I wasn't interested in doing.  Come on, I was here to swim, take in the sights.  But she wouldn't let up, brought another girl into it, and pretty soon it was all I was getting from them.  My inclination was to ignore and hope it would go away, but it didn't, and finally I said, "Okay, fine, I will."  Which shut them up.  I think they were as in awe of him as I was.

So I went up to the life guard stand and said, "Hey, want me to get you a drink?"  I couldn't think of anything else.  I mean, I could, but I knew that it wasn't a perfect world and, "Hey, you're cute, want to fuck my brains out?" would not play well.

He probably heard the line from all the girls.  "No thanks, I'm good."  He wasn't even looking at me.  I know now (and pretty much knew then) that he wasn't allowed to take his eyes off the pool, but it still seemed dismissive.

Shit.  "Let me know if you do."  Brilliant gambit, Lexi.  I swear, this was decades ago and I'm still kicking myself for it as I remember it.

"Okay."  He grinned.  "Okay, fine, I'll take a Coke.  Just don't make a big deal out of it.  I don't want to get in trouble."  And he glanced at me, just a glance, like he was verifying me.

Can of Coke in hand, I sidled up to the chair again.  I'm pretty sure I said something very stupid when I gave it to him, but that memory has been blessedly cleansed.  I do remember he asked me my name so he could thank me properly.  Which I used to get his name, which was, if I recall, something like Brett.  Brett will work.  Never took his eyes off the pool except to steal a few glances at me.  Knowing me, I think he was pleased by what he saw, but then he probably saw a million other girls wearing bikinis, so it wasn't exactly novel.

"I'll see you," I said, by way of something else to say.

"I go on break at 3.  I'll pay you back then."

Shit.  Well, my gift was being spurned.  His money was in his pants or something.  Ah well, nothing ventured, nothing gained.  I dove back into the pool.  Tried to ignore the other girls' questions.  Did I get his number?  What did he say?  I had struck out.  I mean, these girls weren't exactly privvy to how much I had struck out; to them, I was a failure at chatting with a cute guy way out of my league, whereas I was actually a failure at getting a cute guy way out of my league to round some bases with me.  These girls may not have been virgins, but they weren't looking for action.  If any of them had been in my shoes, they would have taken the whole thing less seriously.  But really, how seriously could I take it?

At 3, Brett went on break and I figured that was the last I'd see of him, but he just went to a shady spot and sat down, then looked over at me and smiled.  Okay.  Maybe he wanted me to collect my blood money for the Coke.  By that point, my trivial failure to launch had been forgotten and I think the girls were more interested in some fairly-innocent horseplay with the guys with us.  I'm sure the allure of skin to skin contact while roughhousing was all they needed to forget me, and if I didn't join in, more for them.  I'm pretty sure there were some couples there, but it was a free-for-all of accidental boob brushes and giggling, so minor alliances were forgotten in the fracas.

I went over to Brett and, when he didn't seem to mind, sat down next to him, not so close as to presume, but not across from him.

"So I bet you offer Coke to all the life guards," he said, grinning.  That was his opening line.  I remember that.  But while I don't remember much of the rest of the conversation, I do remember that his eyes, no longer obsessively watching swimmers, were enjoying me.  And enjoying that I wasn't getting shy.  I let him look.

The upshot was that I slid a little closer and he put his hand on my leg and things became a lot more chummy.  To the point that, when I said he could pay me back for the Coke any way he liked, he said, "Okay, I know a place."

I got the feeling that I wasn't the first conquest Brett had made at the pool.  He led me to a room filled with pool supplies and told me no one ever came in unless they were doing what we were doing.  He was coy about whether he'd ever done this before, but he said life guards sometimes hooked up and if he locked the door, anyone else would know what was happening.  I don't know that he knew what he was getting.  Probably expected a nice grope, maybe some oral.

My breasts have never been big enough to really pull off the "pull down the top of the cup and the breast spills out" thing, so he pushed it up instead.  He liked them, even if they weren't enormous.  But when I said, rather heatedly, "You want to fuck me?" his eyes got a little wider.

"You want to?"

"God yes."

That was fine with him, if perhaps unexpected.  I pulled his trunks down, his cock rising a little but not yet fully hard, and then I got on my knees and sucked it to life.  He wasn't inexperienced, so probably he had used this room before.  He held my hair but didn't force anything, and he didn't need to, because by that point I was an expert cocksucker.

"How long do you have?" I asked when I came up for air.

"A while.  Why?"

"Are you ready?"

"Hell yes."

We were about the same height, so no towering Adonis he, though life guards always seem more imposing than they really are.  He didn't have to struggle to position himself, and I bent a little at the waist and supported myself on a pile of life jackets, and he just pulled my bottoms to one side, admired my pussy for a moment, and then rubbed the head of his cock over my pubis a few times before sliding into me.

He wasn't gentle.  I was a little less ready than I should have been, and he loved how tight it made me, but I got into it after a few moments and let him really take the wheel.  And then almost as soon as I was getting into it, he was pulling out.  "Shit, you were amazing," he said.  "I can't hold off.  Do you swallow?"

Had I been older and more sure of myself I would have told him to get back in there and make me cum, but I just nodded and knelt and let him spew a weak load onto my tongue and lips, then swallowed and smiled.  My pussy was vibrating, wanting more, and I was a little weak at the knees from being railed while standing up, knees locked.

"Thanks," he said.  Thanks.  Services rendered.  Kind of a dick.  I figured that was it.

"Do you have more time?"  I could help asking.

"Yeah, plenty.  You want more?"

"Always."

"Damn girl.  What do you want?"

"I want more of your cock.  Want me to suck it again?"

"No, not right away.  I can finger you if you want, until I can get hard again."

So I consented to being pawed.  Not good.  He wouldn't have known where to find the clitoris if I'd drawn a map, and he basically just pushed his finger in and moved it around.  But he sucked my nipples nicely, and we kissed some, and if I wasn't getting closer to cumming at least his finger was there and keeping me excited.  He made no move to offer mutual oral, and I didn't demand it because I was young and stupid and also if he was this bad with his finger, I bet he'd never gone down on a woman before.

Eventually he said, "Okay, you can suck me now," like I had been dying for it (okay, so I was dying to suck him so he'd get hard and I'd get it inside me again).  The floor was clear enough for him to lie back against a life jacket, and I put his trunks under his ass and sucked him hard again.  He was enjoying himself immensely.  I won't attempt false humility: I was probably the best head he'd ever gotten.

Once he was hard again, I straddled him and sank down on his shaft, which wasn't a giant but was good enough.  Decent length, decent girth, and it felt very nice inside me.  And I rocked, his hands on my breasts and then down my sides to my hips, hooking his fingers under the back of my bikini bottoms and gripping my ass.  I remember that.  I liked that, it felt exciting.  I've always liked fucking in underwear.

Grinding down on him, getting an eyeful of his tanned gorgeousness, was enough to make me cum after a bit, and he loved feeling me cum on him.  But then he said, "I need to go a bit quicker.  Can we switch positions?"  So I wound up on all fours, my knees and palms hurting a little because of the concrete floor, and he fucked away behind me.

"You don't have to pull out.  I'm on the pill and I love cum inside me."  I couldn't see his face, but I think he must have thought he'd won the jackpot.

"Okay, coming up," he said, or grunted, and fucked harder, his hands gripping the back seam of my bottoms, pulling it up a little.  It pressed the front against my clit and was winding me up again, but I didn't make it before he gasped, "Fuck, I'm going to cum in your pussy!"

The orgasm wasn't even as intense as the first one.  I basically felt his cock tense and relax a few times.  Didn't feel the cream inside.  He pulled back and I moved my hand up, even though my knees were screaming at this point, and rubbed my clit, hard, until I got off too.  He was wide-eyed at that, when I rolled over and adjusted myself, pulling my top back down and my bottoms back over my pussy.  "Damn girl, you're insane," he said, or something similar.

Three was out of the question.  I knew before I asked, so I didn't.  He wasn't in a rush, offered to finger me some more if I wanted, but I politely declined.  "My friends will be wondering where I am," I said, with a degree of truth.

"Well, that was great."  And he pulled on his trunks and left in the opposite direction of the pool.  To a life guard locker room, maybe.  I didn't really care.  I went back to the pool, and my "friends" hadn't really even noticed I was gone.  I learned later that a boy and girl had sneaked off on their own and gotten to third base or something, and that was all anyone was talking about.  My life guard crush was forgotten, and no one even mentioned it.  And Brett came back to his station, looking like nothing had happened, and took up watch on the pool again.  He looked at me a few times and smiled, but we didn't speak.

Of course, I went home and fucked someone's brains out that evening because it had been exciting but hardly a great lay.  And if I ever saw Brett again at the pool, we never fucked again.  I wasn't particularly sorry.  Decent story, but at the time, somewhat underwhelming.

TMI Tuesday

From the archives:

1. Do you think being a sex worker is as legitimate a work option as being an accountant?

Good lord yes. But this is a crappy question because sex work and accounting aren't really in the same sphere of types of work, so it's any easy one to poo-poo.  "Oh sure, accountants do your taxes.  What do sex workers do?"  Better comparison might be to a therapist.  I think a lot of people who seek out prostitutes are doing it for reasons other than just wanting to have sex, honestly, but even if that's the case, the reasons why they need to pay for sex are complicated.  They need help in some way.  So actually, I guess accountant isn't such a terrible comparison: if you're no good at taxes, you seek an accountant.  If you're no good at getting people to have sex with you, you seek a sex worker.

But what it boils down to is that the opinions many people have about sex work are either moral or they're premised on assumptions.  The moral aspect, I can't really argue with: I disagree with your morality, but if you genuinely believe that sex is something which should only happen in certain ways, then fine.  We still allow bartenders and liquor distributors to have legitimate employment, and many people (and I'm not just talking about people of certain faiths) don't believe that alcohol should be used.

The assumptions are more problematic.  Many people assume that sex workers are all being exploited.  But that's not a feature of sex work, that's a feature of the system which keep sex workers from being able to enjoy the protections of legitimate work.  If I locked an accountant in my basement, fed them bread and water, and forced them to do my books for free, that would be exploitation, but it wouldn't be because accounting is an exploitative job.  Yes, there are certainly problems with exploitation in sex work, and there is perhaps a case to be made that sex work lends itself to exploitation, but that's an argument for increasing the protections for sex workers, not for shoving them out into the cold.

Politics aside, sex work isn't called "the oldest profession" for nothing.  Yes, even that name is problematic, but people have been doing it for as long as there has been a concept of "work" to do, and probably before that.  It's every bit as legitimate as any other form of work.  And accountants, I love you because I can't fucking do my taxes.

I'll put away my soapbox now.

2. Which of these rules would you follow if your lover had to have it followed in order to be aroused:
a. wear socks will having sex
b. have the lights on during sex
c. have the TV playing, volume up while having sex
d. the room must be in complete darkness to have sex

I could live with all of these things.  The TV one might be the one I had the most problem with, mostly because it's distracting, but if we discussed it, I would deal with it.  I don't need complete quiet to be aroused.

I have had sex with a few people, guys mostly, who wanted the lights either on or off.  I think "off" is more often than not because they're not comfortable with themselves, latent shame about sex or about their body.  But I've never had anyone who could only be aroused with the lights a certain level.  There are fun things to do in both cases: lights on and you can have some visual stimulation (and I hate to say it but this is more fun when I'm with a girl that with a guy: girls are just more fun to look at, sorry guys).  Lights off and there's the whole tactile thing.  I would say that in balance I've had way more sex with the lights on than off, but neither bothers me.

The socks thing... I get it.  I mean, if my partner is turned on by me wearing socks to bed, that's like the easiest costume play ever.  And if they have to wear socks, I'm not into feet so I don't care.

3. You must plan an evening of sex with your lover. Tell us what you’ve planned for the evening.

Soft light in the bedroom, water bottles by the bed, lube and toys all over, and I've probably stripped the bedclothes and may have laid something down so we don't have to deal with wet spots (with Sveta, that's definitely something I do more often than not; we keep towels nearby at all times in case things get frisky).  If we're really going crazy, maybe something edible to share.

I'm a bad romantic.  But I can tell you horror stories about various supposedly romantic setups which make me totally fine with my lack of prep in the romance department.  Rose petals are a terrible idea; they stain bedclothes and they aren't really all that interesting once the going gets going.  Massage oils are nice and all, but I've broken out from poorly-chosen ones in the past, so while we do plenty of oiling up sometimes, it's always with safe stuff.  And honestly, "oiling up" leaves everything sticky.  Getting a nice massage on doesn't leave you clinging to the sheets.

I had a romantic evening with a guy once who decided that life was porn and so he was going to oil me up.  I'm not going to lie: the massage felt great, and when he started fingering me after having been over every inch of my skin with his hands, I came like nobody's business.  And then we fucked, and it was terrific, just thrusting and cumming, until he tried to flip me over and he couldn't get a grip, and I realized that what I had felt as a nice warm glow was actually sweat and massage oil gluing me to the bed, and it was awkward.  And then we got back into it and it was fine again, but afterward, I had to take a shower and we had to change the sheets.  And I still felt slightly oily for the rest of the evening, which went from being a pleasant feeling to being kind of disgusting, like I had grease all over my skin.  Still, the sex was great, and he was very good in bed in general, so I forgave him.

And I haven't even mentioned candles.  Fire safety, children.  If you're going to do it by candlelight, the candles should be placed far away from the bed, they should be the kind which won't fall over or melt all over everything, and they probably shouldn't be scented like anything much.  And you should get used to the idea that you won't be able to see as well as you think you will.  Sure, in movies they set up 8 million candles all around the bed and it looks like that scene in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom where Indy gets taken over by Kali, and it looks totally romantic and sexy, but in reality you won't be able to see shit, which may not be a problem until you have to get up.

I once almost set a building on fire because I was young and stupid and put a candle too close to the bed and we, in our enthusiasm, knocked it over, and hot wax went all over the floor and caught fire because we didn't pay attention, and then my partner said, "Hey, what's that smell?" and it was about ten seconds away from catching the bed on fire and then we, if we made it out, would have had to stand around on the front lawn, naked, while firefighters judged us.  Which would have been really awkward because I was in no way legal.  Nothing kills the mood like having to put out a fire on the floor of your love nest.  His erection was gone, I was terrified, and we almost gave it up, but then we both laughed about it and got back into it, by electric light this time.  Not that it was such a great loss; the initial enthusiasm had masked the fact that he wasn't all that great in bed, and it had been mostly about him with very little foreplay, but hey, rough and tumble sex and so forth, but when we got back into it and he got back into me, he continued to act with that first rough and tumble urge and I didn't cum before he did, and he didn't offer any help in that regard.  Ah, my misspent yoot.

4. Rule: If one of you is in the mood for sex and the other is not, you give the other 24 hours to ‘get in the mood’ before masturbating. Would this work in for you or in your relationship–why or why not?

 It would definitely depend on the relationship.  I did abstain from masturbation for a time, not because of a rule like this but because of a rule which was that I wasn't allowed to masturbate.  Yeah, that relationship was fucked up.  But there was plenty of sex so I pretended like it wasn't a big deal, which it totally was and I should never have been in the relationship even though... whatever.

I can understand the rationale, I guess.  If you're getting what you need from yourself, you don't have any impetus to get what you need from your partner and thus they don't get what they need.  I guess I could see it if that was a concern, although I'm not sure that's the way to address the concern.  It also seems like it's punishing the person who wants it more than the person who doesn't.

I've gone without masturbation before too when we were saving it up for each other.  I've been away from my lover for a period and, to heighten the eventual reunion, we've both said we wouldn't masturbate before we saw each other again.  That can be electric.  But I'm not sure this rule would work for me.  I don't think the ready availability of masturbation affects my desire for sex most times, and when it does, I'm usually the one who's not in the mood for sex so it wouldn't be fair of me to deny my partner a release.

5. Apparently, even though it is the year 2016, some folks still have a “number” that delineates another person from being normal and liking sex versus being promiscuous. What is THAT number for you? According to a recent U.K. report more than 15 sexual conquests for a man can be off-putting, while more that 14 sexual encounters for a woman may give a potential suitor pause.

I am a fucking slut, or promiscuous, or whatever you want to call it.  I think any number is fine, if not "normal" (normal just means status quo, and very few things are actually "normal").  And the language of this question is annoying: it's "conquests" for a man, but "encounters" for a woman.  Fuck that shit.  Go out and have as much sex as you can, or want, or whatever.  I don't keep count of my own partners, but I've probably had an order of magnitude more that any "reasonable" number that people who care about those things might posit.

And what's the difference between liking sex and being promiscuous?  They're not even on the same scale.  Promiscuous implies number of partners.  Liking sex implies enjoyment.  You can have one partner and like sex just as much if not more than someone who's had hundreds of partners, and promiscuity is no indication of how much you enjoy sex.

Fuck this question.  There is no number, and I will cheerfully "conquest" a virgin or someone who's had more partners than I have, if we're both down for it.

Bonus: How was your weekend?

Long, annoying, and not really a weekend.  I've had a rough few weeks.  I don't get any particular days off, so "weekend" means very little to me.  And since I'm writing this ages before it will actually be posted, it's pointless to talk about it anyway.

Q&A With Mike

I did one of these ages ago with Sheri and I got to talk with Mike the other day, so I decided I'd ask him if he'd be willing to do a bit of Q&A.  That's not a double entendre for anything.  Just questions and answers.  As always, you can join in by emailing or DMing or commenting or any other way you can get ahold of me, if there are questions you'd like answered by my supporting cast.  I'll be asking the same questions this time around, with edits and so forth just like last time.  If it sounds like my phrasing, it's because it is.  I punched up a few things to make it more interesting to read; most of the dialogue is interpreted and probably not actually what was said, but close enough.  Yeah, like you were expecting the New York Times.  I interpret.  I enliven.  It's all what he said, just finessed a bit.

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#1 - What's your favorite position?

Depends on the girl.  And what we're doing.  With anal, it's got to be doggy.  With you, I love missionary, and if the girl is good looking and has nice tits, missionary is very nice.  But lately I've been into getting ridden, which has all the good stuff from missionary plus we can get a rhythm going better with both of us working at it.

#2 - What kind of porn are you watching lately?

Mother-son stuff.  I guess I miss Mom.  I like it when there's a younger girl involved too.

#3 - Who was the last girl you fucked?

[Lexi note: Mike has a fairly steady thing right now, so this question took a bit of drawing out, since initially he just said, "Come on, what kind of dumb question is that?"]

Mia [his current thing].  Last night she got home from work and wanted two orgasms.  She said she wanted at least two, right out of the gate.  I thought she meant her, but she wanted two from me.  So we ordered a pizza which got cold, I fucked her mouth until I came on her tits, then she rode me hard, said the first one didn't count, made me get hard again, and told me it was all on me this time.  She lay back and let me plow her, cute little wails and cumming and so forth, then I came on her face.  She said that was what she wanted and then went to bed.  I wasn't complaining.  Sometimes Mia just needs to get fucked to destress a little.

#4 - How about the gentlemen?

[Lexi note: my brother has some bi curiosity, but he doesn't indulge in it beyond sometimes some ass play with toys.  So he said, "Copying and pasting from Sheri's responses isn't going to work here."  Which is true.  But I wanted to copy and paste, so you get this instead.]

#5 - Most interesting recent partner?

[Lexi note: Mike and Mia aren't totally exclusive, but they share rather than going outside the partnership.  As far as I know, she doesn't know about his family matters, so he's cheating on her if he has sex with any of the family, but I can't judge him both because he's my brother and because I've been in the same situation.]

Mia.  Okay, no, that's not fair.  Sheri's answer was all about deflowering a guy, and I've got nothing recent which was anywhere near that fun.  Should I talk about the last time I popped a virgin?

[Lexi note: yes, because that sounds more interesting than your recent stuff.]

Okay, so the last girl I popped was legal but just, drunk at a party I was at, started coming on to me because she thought I was with the band.  I wasn't, but she was hot and no other fish were biting, so I let her think I was.  We started making out, she said she wanted to go somewhere quieter, so we went back to my room [Lexi note: it should be said here that Mike was not barely legal; this was probably last year and he's talking about a hotel room, not a dorm room.]

We got there, she's starting to get a little more sober and realizing she's committing to something she doesn't really want to commit to, so I told her it was fine, she could go, no biggie, I wasn't expecting anything [Lexi note: Mike, for any flaws he might have otherwise, is pretty decent].  I mean, I totally was expecting something, raring to go, but you know [Lexi note: I do].

So she leaves and I'm thinking about finding someplace to go, maybe pick up another girl, something.  But I wound up jerking off in my room because I'm not as young as I used to be [Lexi note: then what were you doing at the party in the first place, dingus?].  I finished up, put something on the TV, and was getting ready to drift off when there's a knock on my door.

It's the girl again.  I told her I'd be right there, threw some clothes back on, let her in.  She says, "I'm sorry, I led you on, you hate me."  Don't you just love drama?  I really wanted to say, "No, I don't, get out and let me sleep," but she said, "You were such a good guy.  Most guys would have just taken advantage.  And... I just was nervous because I've never done anything like this before."

"Never hooked up in a hotel room after a party?"

"No, I mean..." And she was blushing and stammering and I could see what she was actually trying to say.

"You've never hooked up at all."

"I mean, I've made out with guys.  But I came to college and I figured I'd, you know, and it just..."

"Look, you were drunk, people make mistakes, whatever.  I'm sorry I put you in this position.  You didn't need to apologize.  And maybe next time, don't go back to a stranger's hotel room because bad things happen.  You should have someone to watch your back."

Turns out that her buddy was even more drunk than she was, so yeah, choices.

But then she said, "You're so awesome.  I... I want to do it with you.  I want you to.  I'm not drunk any more and I want to do it."

Well okay then.  So we started making out again, and she was still pretty shy about it, and I kept telling her we didn't have to do this, but she seemed like she was going to go ahead with it.  "I just want to do it," she said.

Her body was very nice, once I got her clothes off, and her being shy was kind of cute.  Innocent, you know?  I was ready to go again [Lexi note: when isn't he?] but you'd be proud, I took my time, I got her comfortable.  Once I gave her permission to be sexual, she even rubbed her pussy a little before I said I was going to get her really comfortable and ate her out.  No orgasm but she relaxed.

Then I got my own clothes off.  She wasn't surprised by my cock like some girls are [Lexi note: he's not saying he's huge, although he's perfectly respectable, just that virgins sometimes haven't even ever seen a cock before] and she asked me if I wanted her to do anything.  I just told her I was going to fuck her and that was all she had to worry about [Lexi note: I sure hope those weren't the exact words he used, because that's all you need to do is bring up worry at a time like this].

She took me like a champ.  Between her juice and the condom, I didn't have to do much to get inside her.  No blood, which I'll admit disappointed me a little.  It didn't even hurt her.  She just lay back and looked happy until I pulled back and rocked a little, and then her eyes got wide and she started gasping.  Didn't want to wear her out, but after having jerked off not too long ago, I was going to last for a while, so I tried to go slow and steady.

I think she came on me.  I'm not sure.  I hope so.  She certainly seemed to be enjoying herself.  But after a while, she asked me if I wanted to switch positions, so we spooned.  I wrapped her tits in my hands and God they were nice college teen tits.  I felt like I was going to go on forever though, so I sped up a little and she begged me to be gentle.  So I had to slowly, slowly fuck, and after the novelty wore off, it wasn't that great.  I mean, she felt great, and her body was amazing, but she was kind of like a warm sex doll, not much reaction beyond moaning and occasionally squeezing her pussy on me.

But I can force myself to cum if I have to, so I did.  I asked her where she wanted her first jizz, and she looked a little startled.  "I don't know, where do you usually cum?"

I didn't tell her I usually like to cum in a pussy or an ass.  "If you don't feel like it in your mouth, that's okay.  I can just cum in the condom."

But she wanted the full experience, so I pulled out and did the porno thing where the guy stands there forever wanking for the money shot.  I settled on her tits because she didn't seem like she wanted a facial.  The orgasm was lousy and forced, but she thought it was the greatest thing ever.  She played with it with her finger, but she didn't taste.

She wanted to know if she could stay the night because she had nowhere else to go.  I really needed to get to sleep because I actually had things to do the next day.  She said she'd make it worth my while and was reaching for my cock like she was trying to pick up a hot poker, but I told her that wasn't necessary, and if she wanted to stay that was fine but she didn't need to sleep with me.  But she was all over me, even if she wasn't all over my cock, saying how great I was, and damn it I have an ego just like everyone else.  So even though I had planned on giving her the bed and sleeping on the couch, we wound up sleeping together.

Even though she said she was up for more, she was out like a light about five minutes later, curled up next to me.  In the morning I was all set to get up and go for the continental breakfast, but she was there all big-eyed and naked and saying she knew she'd never see me again and that I was the best and she wanted me again before I left, so what was I going to do?

I fingered her while we kissed and she even got up her courage and started stroking my cock.  Then I pulled on another condom and let her straddle me.  I think she was sore because it was even slower and gentler than before, and I really just wanted to grab her hips and fuck her silly and get it out of her system so I could maybe get a shower and then maybe grab the dregs of continental breakfast.  God though, she had a tight little body and it was fun watching her giggling and rocking.  I told her I wanted to make her cum and she liked that idea, so I tweaked her nipples and she rubbed her clit while bouncing and finally she said, like she was proud, "I'm going to cum."  Her orgasm was disappointing too, a quick gasp and flutter and then she was lying on my chest and telling me how amazing I was again and I was getting tired of it all.

"I'm going to fuck you a little harder, okay?"

"Okay."  And to her credit she put up with a bit more rough, maybe a 2 on the dial instead of a 1.  I let her lie there and grabbed her ass and pressed up, speeding up until she said no more.  She even let me run my fingers over her ass without saying anything.  And I didn't bother to ask, just rolled her off me like a sack of potatoes, pulled off the condom, and jerked it again until she moved her head over without saying anything and opened her mouth.  So if she was going to let me...

I even got a few little licks and sucks, which was enough, and I held her in place and then shot onto her tongue and lips.  Another really weak orgasm, but the volume was impressive.  I don't think she was expecting as much as there was, and I certainly wasn't.  She looked like I had splashed her face with cold water.  But she let me cum on her tongue with only a little flinching.

Honestly, the best part, and the part I wish had happened sooner because we could have have way more fun, was that she said, "It tastes a little funny," but then swallowed and licked her lips.  "Not bad though.  I could do that again."

We didn't though.  I didn't get breakfast.  She wanted to stay, I think, but I told her that I really did have places to go, people to see, things to do, and no, I wouldn't be going to that party tonight.  So she left after showering and I never saw her again.  I mean, it was fun, but it was also kind of a drag.  I like the virgins who are raring to go and want to learn.  I bet she went back to college with a story to tell and got fucked by a bunch of assholes while drunk.

#6 - Worst sex recently?

Mia brought home this woman a few weeks ago, older than us, and I wasn't attracted to her at all, but I went along with it for Mia because she was so proud she'd picked up a woman for a threesome [Lexi note: I guess Mia is as inexperienced in this regard as Sveta is, or they usually pick up a third together or something].  The woman was not my type.  Mia said after that she wasn't really her type either, but had said yes.  So we had a pretty pedestrian threesome with this woman who was mostly looking to get hers from both of us, like she was doing us a favor by agreeing to be shared.  Mia didn't get any oral at all, and I only got some while Mia was eating the woman out.  Her pussy was sloppy, her tits were saggy, and she just wasn't much of a lay even leaving out the shallow stuff.  She had a great time, drank a bunch of our liquor, and has asked us if we want to do it again, but we're always busy, wouldn't you know.

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Again, if you've got any questions for anyone I can ask, including me, send them along. This was just some random shit questions I thought up way back when, and while we managed to get a good virgin story out of them, they're pretty basic.  Feel free to ask specifics.

TMI Tuesday

From the archives (seriously, go visit the TMI Tuesday blog because I am not trying to steal credit for anything but my answers, which were given to me on several golden plates by angels):

1. Do you prefer your lover:

a) fresh from the bath and perfumed?
b) fresh from the bath without perfume?
c) clean but not right from the tub or shower?
d) slightly sweaty (or musky)?

I don't like perfume very much, although some are better than others.  I'd say clean is good, either fresh from bathing or not.  I don't have a preference between B and C.

2. Do you maintain your body for sex with respect to facial hair, body hair, pubic hair, fingernails or toenails?

I maintain my body hair because I don't like stubble and I feel less feminine if I get hairy.  I know, I'm buying into the patriarchy, but there it is.  I also think smooth is sexy, so yeah, the body hair issue is probably at least somewhat sexual.  My pubes come and go as they please these days.  I used to be much more rigorous, but lately I trim more often than I shave.  That's largely for sexy reasons, but neatness feels more comfortable.  I'm obsessive about my nails, and they get both cleaned and clipped regularly.  There's a very, very small part of the fingernails which is a sex thing, because fingering people with ragged nails can get ugly, but mostly it's because I'm OCD, and I use that term advisedly.  I am not, "Oh, I'm such a neat freak, I must be OCD," OCD.  I am, "Imbalances in my brain chemistry coupled with psychological issues I don't understand make me obsessive about some things for no reason, even if I'm not as severely handicapped by it as some people," OCD.  Kids, please use "anal retentive" instead.  It's more fun to say and no one believes Freud any more so you're not crazy-shaming people.

3. Do you maintain/prepare according to your lover’s preferences?

Yes.  If I know what they are, I make accommodations.  I don't do anything a lover wants, but if Sveta for instance were to decide that she enjoyed a shaved pussy more and she expressed this preference to me, I would take it into account.  One night stands and unexpected lovin' don't get frills, although if someone wanted to wash before sexy times I would be okay with that.

4. Do you have body adornments such as piercings or tattoos for sexual reasons? Does your lover?

I don't have any piercings other than my ears, and I have no tattoos.  I've never been hardcore enough.  As for "my lover," which one?  The tattoos and piercings I've been with over the years have never been explicitly stated for sexual reasons, although clit piercings have got to be at least partially for that, right?  No, I don't know, really.  Sheri has a pierced clit, had a pierced tongue for a while before she got sick of it and let it grow closed, and has tattoos, at least one of which she received in exchange for a long session of butt-fucking, although I don't know if the tattoo itself was for sexual reasons, just the payment was in kind.

5. Do you choose any cosmetics, lubes, condoms or other sexually relevant items according to how they taste? Do you not use them because of the taste?

I'm not in love with Astroglide as a taste.  I don't usually go in for flavors except as a lark.  Basically, I don't lube for just giving head, and if I give head to someone who has been lubed, I don't care about the taste unless it's horrible, which I've not run into.  Most modern lubes don't taste or smell like much of anything to me.  I don't like the taste of latex, so I've never been into dental dams, but I'll grin and bear it and the taste goes away after a bit anyway.

6. Is there a taste or aroma that turns you on or that you can use to turn on your lover?

Me?  I like all kinds of tastes and smells.  The smell of a clean, aroused cunt is very much a turn-on, as is a bit of manly musk (not funk, understand, just that smell that you sometimes get off a guy who's ready to go).  Baby powder turns me on.  That's the strangest one, I think.  Everything else is pretty much either obvious or isn't an automatic turn-on and depends on context.

As far as lovers, the sky's the limit.  I've had lovers be turned on by all sorts of smells.  I once fucked a guy who was a fart-lover, but he was suitably shy about it and only broached the subject after he was fucking my ass and natural things happened. Yes, girls will fart if you fuck them in the ass.  Sorry to bust your bubble.

He didn't just pull out and start sniffing, but when I apologized (because it's natural but still a little embarrassing) he said he didn't mind and actually... well, he liked it.  And he was a decent guy, and I don't judge people's turn-ons if they're honest about them and they're not hurting anyone, so I said I'd be happy to try to make the magic happen again.  He looked like I was giving him Christmas and a birthday all rolled into one.  I guess he was used to being judged.  Hell, he looked thrilled that I didn't kick him out right then and there and asked him about it.

And I admit, while I don't want to smell my own or anyone else's farts in a sexual or other context, I got into it a little.  I spread my ass open and told him to stick his nose right up against my asshole, and then I tried to summon a fart without also accidentally summoning anything else.  Which was harder to do that you'd think.  Finally though, I managed one, and he inhaled it like it was a fine wine, and then grabbed my hips and pressed his nose into my ass forcefully.  He begged me for one more, and after the first the second was easier.  After he inhaled it all, he hopped up and vigorously pounded my ass until more little squeaks were coming unbidden (a sex-fart, like a queef, doesn't smell much and is really just trapped air being pushed out) and then finally unloaded in my ass, then rolled me over and ate out my pussy and ass at the same time until I was cumming like crazy.  All in all, totally worth indulging his fetish.

Bonus: Do you prepare a room for sex–mood music, candles, scent, cleaning it or anything? Tell us about it.

Depends.  If it's a special occasion, sure, I'll prepare, although it's not always the same prep and it's not always those items.  When I've been in a long-term relationship with a man, he's usually the one who does that kind of prep because I enjoy being pampered a little, I confess.  But I'll set the scene for others too.  I don't have a go-to; it's organic and based on what the occasion is or what I have available.  I've never done the romantic movie cliche of strewing rose petals all over the bed because that's in romantic movies for a reason: they don't have to worry about staining the sheets with crushed rose essence.  If you're going to do that, do it in a bathtub (and then make sure the bathtub is big enough to do what you have planned, because most of them aren't).  But I'll certainly light a candle, lower the lights, and lie there naked and waiting for when Sveta gets home.