full moon trance

I am back from paradise and last night I had sex.

It had been several months since we had seen each other. An entire summer. And yet his voice purring out “I missed you so much” was enough. Like velvet.

It took me 85 years to finish. Some moments felt like shooting out into space and leaving my body. Then I would slingshot back and worry that I had left that body too inert while skyrocketing through pleasure.

Every time he exhaled, his moan vibrated all over me.

The sweaty sheen that appears over you. Even if you don’t think you’re doing anything. But in reality my entire body was pulsing, thrashing with periodic electric shocks. Feeling everything so deeply for hours.

Toy after toy. He had one that vibrated and one that mimicked a sucking sensation. I think they made things a little too sensitive. Eventually my own hand was enough.

There’s a strange trance to sex. And he seemed intent on building it. With the music in his apartment, and the various rhythms of his mouth and fingers and body. I guess it was my role to melt into that trance and become the instrument he played and pulled pleasure out of. But sometimes I snapped back into the moment. Felt guilt. Selfishness. Anxiety. Until his mouth did something new and I melted back into the trance.

When it was over we stared into each other’s eyes and he ran a hand through my hair, softly, over and over.

“I want to pull out everything any shitty boyfriend ever did to you.” he made a motion like he was pulling it out of my hair. “Any moment that ever made you feel small. I want you to know that you are beautiful.”

His voice melted on the last word and I felt tears in my eyes. I just nodded and said thank you.

And then I learned he is monogamous. Who knows what will happen here. But the moment was beautiful.

stalking can be healthy and fun

You are very easy to internet stalk.

Sometimes I Google you and I find an article you wrote.

Or (even weirder) an article that has been written about you.

I look at the photo they took of you

So scholarly

I look closer at your mouth

And I think of all the wonderful things it has done to my pussy.

monologue from the hot gaslighting boy who was on my beach vacation

“Hello, I’m the really hot straight guy who somehow is staying in a house at a gay beach town with you, a couple other women, and gay guys.”

“I can tell my presence makes you super uncomfortable because you have a huge crush on me, and you’re going to avoid me as often as you possibly can.”

“But you see, I’m still going to go out of my way to go up to you and flirt with you. I’ll you you’re a really good dancer and a manic pixie dream girl, touch you on the arm in innocent little ways, find a way to sit next to you everywhere all the time, etc.”

“And then one night everybody will be drunk, and suddenly I will be wrapped around you on the couch. Our faces will be so close together, and you will be so paralyzed with lust that all you can think about is grabbing me by the hair and making out with me.”

“Oh by the way, one of the other women on this trip is obsessed with me, and she’ll be watching all of this, trying to join in. At one point she will even suggest the three of us go into a bedroom together. That’s when both of us jump up and the moment passes.”

“And then? Everyone in the beach house gossips about it all day the next day and is kind of weird to you. Imagine how they’d be if you’d *actually* kissed me.”

“I’ll sit next to you at dinner the next night and tell you that you didn’t seem that into it. Someone else will tell you that I don’t even remember cuddling you. (Spoiler: I do.)”

“And then I’ll tell you that I just love to cuddle everyone. That I’m a cuddle slut. And if you’re about to rocket off into space from all your horny frustrated rage, I guess that’s on you?”

“Then I’ll give you a ride back to the city and tell you about my current friends-with-benefits situations, one of which I’m trying to turn into a relationship.”

………fucking *yay!*

sexual frustration magic energy

It has been 13 days since I last saw the person I am dating.

During that time, he has texted me every day. He has sent photos of himself. Of his arms and their tattoos. Of his face. Of his body.

He has written me notes. Of things he wants to do to me. He mentioned a dream he’d had, an idea for a fantasy, and it happened to be one of my deepest: the two of us in a room full of women. Then we had a 2.5-hour sext session, easily the most intense I’d ever experienced.

And then I had to wait a week.

I was far away, in the state I grew up in, and my body was constantly burning for him. Self pleasure eased things slightly. But there were always more photos, more promises, more fire.

So then I decided I wouldn’t touch myself until the next time I saw him. It was supposed to be yesterday. And then he got strep throat. So here I am, trying to do something productive with the energy pulsing through me.

He, of course, loves this.

Ugh even the word pulse does it.

sexy sexy bloggy bloggy

Last night I realized that I am listed among the “Top Sex Blogs” on Kinkly.com. I’d applied sometime last year, and after I didn’t hear anything I assumed I’d just been rejected.

But I haven’t!

“Oh how exciting!” I thought. “I wonder what my ranking is!”

So in case anyone was wondering, this sex-blog-that-infrequently-talks-about-sex is in……

Last place.


Elevatrix Part 3

I am wearing a mask.

You told me to come to your office. I didn’t even know where that was at first. And now I’m standing here, blind and topless. You made me remove my shirt and bound my hands behind my back. Now the room is humming and wave after wave of goosebumps are passing over my body. And nothing has happened. Not for several minutes, at least.
But I can feel you here. Sitting at your desk, watching with that silent smirk. You’re wearing black pumps and your legs are crossed. I hear your slow, soft laugh in my head. And then in reality.
“Soo nervous, aren’t you?” You purr. “I can see you trembling.”
Something cold and hard presses against my lower back. My entire body tenses as I gasp. You giggle.
“Oh my dear..” You stroke my hair. I attempt to find your fingers and snuggle them like a cat. But I can’t.
“Get on your knees. On the floor.”
Fingernails scratch my neck. I moan. 
“Yes, Miss.”
“Yes, yes Miss.” I kneel.
You love watching me like this. Every slight noise makes me twitch, and I can hear the corner of your lip turn up. Something- maybe your flogger?- hits me just below my chest. You drag it up, between my breasts, and up to my neck. I squirm and sigh. The flogger strokes my face. I feel like your pet, being stroked however you see fit. 
I purr- I didn’t know I *could* purr- and you seem to approve. I hear you shift. Can feel you closer now. At least I think I can. You drag your nails up and down my upper arms. I throw my head forward, trying to find your face, your mouth. I find nothing.
You press your mouth against my ear. “Shh..”
I feel your tongue on my earlobe and almost can’t take any more of this. I twist against my wrist ties. I want to touch you. You kiss me deeply. I taste salt and slight mint and search for your tongue. You push me away and click your tongue.
“Soo eager, my dear..”
You pull down my blindfold. Your face is maybe a foot from mine. Red hair messily, perfectly frames your face- you took down the bun.
Fingers on my thighs, pushing up my skirt. You pull me closer, grind against me. I close my eyes. It’s actually happening. Our mouths press together as your finger traces the outside of my sex. 
“Move with me.” You whisper. 
Your hands grasp the small of my back. Wetness finally pushes against mine. 
“Oh god.” I press my face against your neck and nibble it.
If you untied me right now, I would devour you. Or at least drag my tongue over your entire body. But you never do. You just keep teasing me with your finger and rocking your body, your sex, against mine until the room is hot from our breathing and we are both covered with that thin, beautiful layer of sweat.
I would come here every day, right at this time, and do anything you wanted, if you asked me to. Go down on you during a conference call or just lie at your feet while you answer emails. Let me be your little pet.