Ginger Man and Dior: From the outside, highly respectable indivduals. But here, in the space they share, their darkest and most intimately debauched feelings surface ... Read on, and be prepared to have your foundations rocked.
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Sunday, July 23, 2006
Here is this week’s best of the sex blogs by the eloquent smutmeisters who blog them.
Want in Sugasm #40? Doesn’t everyone? Go ahead, submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the linklist within a week and you’re all set. Get serious, and join the crowd.
Thoughts on Sex and Relationships
BDSM and Fetish
Erotic Writing and Experiences
Lovely upskirt photo courtesy of Melanaise.
link | posted by Anonymous at 10:05 PM |
Sunday, June 25, 2006
Can you hear that..?
Can you hear that?
I may be merely a voice in your head, but I know you hear me now as distinctly as you did the other night.
When your finger ran across my skin, I sighed wantonly.... knowing that the gentleness of your touch belied the fevered nature of your lust. Knowing that this was a preliminary move, indicative of events to unfold.
As your mouth found mine, the sweet slurp of lips entangling shattered the passionate silence that bound us.
When my legs wrapped around you, drawing your hips toward mine, pulling us closer together, drawing you into me deeply; immersing yourself inside me... the sounds of mutual acknowledgement and release as each breathed soft words of encouragement into the others ear.
As you plunged deeper within me, how I exhaled shudderingly in ecstasy, verbalizing the sheer joy and desire that you aroused in me.
As my sultry heat further inflamed you, how you involuntarily grunted, only to move your lips against my ear lobe as you whispered your lascivious intentions in intimate detail. How I laughed delightedly to hear them, murmuring my erotic acquiescence to all that you planned to do.
As the passion surged within us both, how my breath caught and I gasped your name -- the familiar syllables not having ever previously symbolized such delicate yet carnal pleasure.
As my climax hit, how once again I called your name; with exquisite delight at what had taken so many months to happen; how your climax joined with mine, as you now whispered my name... in rapturous wonder at the delicious intensity of our conjoined orgasm.
How we both subsided slowly into a warm and sated silence that resonated louder than any of the previous sounds we'd just made.
I know I can still hear it. Can you?
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Saturday, May 27, 2006
Can I tempt you?
Hoist my skirt a little higher, maybe? Flash you a glimpse of bare leg, that you know leads all the way up to wet, glistening and should-be-exposed cunt?
You know you want me, more than anything. You know that just by reading this I will reduce you to a panting, shapeless mass; almost puddled on the ground in breathless anticipation.
My full, round breasts, rosy nipples alert and awaiting your attention.
My soft skin, yearning for your touch. The soft, warm and womanly flesh of my body that you ache to posses, to caress, to stroke and nip gently...
How can you stay so far away? How do you resist the urge to close up the physical gap between us once and for all?
That we exist way beyond the physical is, perhaps, what saves us. What makes it possible to continue our connection... the fact that we actually really like each other. We can write long emails, and hold frantic IM conversations. We can speak leisurely over the phone, delighting in our mutual understandings and sense of humour.
Yes, this is a salvation. A way to calm the frenzy.
But don't expect me to ever stop tempting you.
link | posted by Anonymous at 10:32 PM |
Friday, May 26, 2006
Hands, thighs. Probing, feeling. Release and thrust: pump; moan and sigh. Lips collide, bodies entwined. Perfect match, perfect fit.... perfect meld. Us both united. Love.
link | posted by Anonymous at 11:37 PM |
Thursday, May 18, 2006
Vibrator virginity lost
It's almost embarrassing to admit this but my new toy is, in fact.... my first toy. Ever.
I was raised in a very sheltered lifestyle. I'm not knocking it; it was right for me at the time. But since then I've been left with the remnants of the "good girl" that I was brought up to be, that I was expected to be, hanging over me like a cloud.
Own a vibrator? Me? No, no... never! Good girls don't do that sort of thing.
Except, of course, they do. And the definition and perception of a good girl is very different to how I was brought up to define and perceive it.
It's a plain, medium-large length and girth vibrator. Made of a rubber compound material, translucent fuschia pink in colour, with a smattering of glitter inherent in the rubber. Very pretty.
The first time I used it, I sat in front of the Ginger Man, and showed him it.
He watched as I fitted the batteries carefully -- getting it right the second time I tried.
He gazed in awe and loving desire as I removed my clothing in front of him, as he always does.
He contemplated as I switched the vibe on, delighting in my girlish giggle as it buzzed and thrummed in my hand.
"Use it, darling," he said. "You'll love it."
Under his affectionate gaze, I placed my knees either side of his, and brought the vibe close to my already moist cunt.
I guided the tip to my slit, and switched it on to a medium-speed setting; I thought this would be best, since I could always increase the speed later. Immediately I felt the waves of pleasure begin to emanate across my body, as if my slit were the core and I were its surrounding planet.
I steered my new vibrating friend to my clit.
A low moan escaped my lips, almost immediately silenced by Ginger Man's mouth on mine. I could feel myself begin to sink into the glorious haze of abandon that heralds the pre-orgasmic build-up.
But this was unlike anything I'd ever previously experienced. I'd always stimulated my clit digitally before, remember, with the typically personal yet somewhat jagged motions that only the woman who owns the clit knows how to do, or would tolerate. Sometimes my fingertip would slip slightly, sometimes my nail might be that fraction too long. But it was never an issue. After all, if I couldn't bring myself off, no one else could.
This was a whole new deck of cards. Symmetrical, constant vibrating that sent me into a pre-orgasmic frenzy. The vibe found the spot and could stay there with ease, not moving from the specific location that generated me so much pleasure. Within seconds I began to gasp and moan, momentarily silenced by another kiss from my lover, but then allowed to burst free from me as I pulsated from within.
"Yes... yes, my darling. That's it. Cum. Cum. Cum for me, Dior baby. Yes..."
As I hit my peak, the ensuing orgasm was all-engulfing, long-lasting and unbelievably intense. I've had multiple orgasms before, frequently, but this was like the King and Queen of all previous apexes; I shook and writhed in consummate pleasure for what literally felt like hours.
Barely was I even aware of my love holding me in a closer-than-close hug, his chest nestled up against my back, his strong arms encircling me. As the delicious waves abated, and I began to try and catch my breath, I lay back and nestled comfortably in the arms of the man who loved me enough to not laugh at me for my naivete and ignorance. The one whom I trusted enough to be with me for my first time.
Yes... this was an official rite of passage -- the losing of one's vibrator virginity. As sex goes, it had been great. But as masturbation goes... it had simply outclassed everything that went before it. And I can never go back.
masturbation, vibrator, cocks, orgasms, erotica, fucking, sex, sex blogs
Note: The above tale is loosely based on a true story. Not that the author is loose or anything. ;-)
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Saturday, May 13, 2006
I know that you're... well, hard. Aren't you? See, I knew it. Such a shame I'm not there to hold it... in my hand, feel it... rock hard and insistent. Throbbing in my palm, begging to be allowed... into my mouth... my cunt... my ass... Yes?
My warm and tender mouth.
My hot pulsating cunt.
Looking down at you, as I straddle you... your cock inside me. A fleeting moment in time... not quite before... not quite after... eyes meeting. The knowing glance the passes between us.
Lowering my head so my hair falls all over you, and whispering in your ear. "Wouldn't you love it if I were fucking someone else in front of you?"
Someone else holding my hips. Fucking me from behind, as I look right at you... not to taunt; rather to share the experience with you.
Yes. A shared experience. A shared wife. Knowing how hot it gets you... knowing how aroused you are... how hard.
How you want to brush him aside like a gnat, and take me, rough, fast, hard; to prove I am yours... but you won't. You will wait. Because the idea of me, dripping with the cum of another man is even more appealing.
Just to hold me close and know that I am wet with someone else's cum. To feel my ass, and round and underneath... and there it is. My cunt. Hot, wet, slippery with the seed of another man.
And at first you cannot help but to feel me. Fingering what's yours; my ass... my cunt... my clit. But soon it becomes too much, and you must clean me, so that you can repossess me.
You drop to your knees as I stand there -- apparently impassive. Allowing you access to me; to all my most private parts. But you know, as do I, that this is why I do this. For you. To make you hot. To arouse you.
Because you are who matters. You are the one who's important. My exclusive love. The one. The only.
And you kneel at my feet and spread my legs so that my cunt is above you. And you look up and you see me:
pink, glistening; all yours. You lap at me softly, tugging my clit gently with your teeth as you flick it with your tongue. Kissing my labia. Licking me clean. Polishing me. Making me feel adored, loved, repossessed.
Not like a slut; no. As your love -- your one and only -- your true love. Reclaimed. And then once I am clean you get up from kneeling and sit... pulling me down onto you; sliding yourself into me.
The final act of repossession; of reclamation. And once again I belong to you; totally, utterly; completely.
I love you.
Moving with you. Riding you, my steed; my stallion. Hard. Fast. Furious.
And i see your face slightly redden, and your eyes lose focus for a moment. And then it comes, as you come. Rasping gently into my ear.
"I love you, my Dior. You have ruined me for any other. It's you. Only you."
link | posted by Anonymous at 10:43 PM |
Saturday, April 22, 2006
My darling Dior,
While I was away last evening, you misbehaved and had a tryst with J., one of your several on-line boyfriends.
I had already brought you off earlier in the day with a debauched scenario, yet J. sent you
cock photos, and helped you get off again.
Allegedly, the five cock-photos are all about how J. got hard thinking of you. You admit this is strangely flattering.
When I sent you a text message, did I sense you were being brought to orgasm by another man?
“You know you are the only one for me. It was rose in a fisted glove time, nothing more. It was an opportunity presented.”
My Dior, I am so hard right now. So very hard … knowing you viewed J.’s nude photos while you masturbated to his lewd dialogue.
I must bring myself off. I’m afraid I look at the nude photo of Aliza, displayed on her blog … her backside. She reminds me of you.
I'm looking at her ass. The cheeks are spread sightly apart to reveal her anus. And I so want to fuck your ass.
You do love that - don't you?
A hard cock pumping into your tight asshole … filling you up.
Of course you love it … and I love thinking about it as I stroke my hard cock … the cock that should always fuck your ass.