Wednesday, September 6, 2017


Yes, this is my blog.

Yes, your chubby arms are beautiful.

Everything I said is true.


Thursday, February 11, 2016

"Daddy Issues"

It's been a long time since I have written. Even now, I am finding the keyboard difficult to adjust to once again. In many ways, this blog was an outlet not only for fantasy, but for letting out frustrations. A person in a cage can easily write vividly of their desire to escape, as long as the ability to break out seems possible. After having tried the locks and chiseled at walls fruitlessly for years, even if the prison is literally of one's own making, the will to keep going begins to die, and so does the thought of what one might do if escape ever were possible. I feel that death. I feel a part of me has given up. These stories actually make me angry now, as the hopeful dreams of the prisoner who cannot escape slowly vanish into nothingness, and leave only fury.

I had someone comment on one of my stories and say "Your writing is gold. Please don't ever stop." I don't think it's gold. I think it's the frustrated ramblings of a man who will never experience any of it. If I were writing about meeting Peter Pan in Neverland, I could accept that. Knowing that (to a degree) there are people out there who have not put themselves in chains and are experiencing these very kinds of things ever day, and I can't even experience them once. All I can do is fucking write about this shit.

I'm effing Cyrano de Bergerac.

I'm that guy who can write a beautifully worded fantasy, and with all my heart want to fulfill it, but I can't, because of the chains I have strung so prettily around me. Oh, how I want to break free.

Yesterday, I had someone request a specific story. "You should write me a little fantasy..." they wrote to me. I know this person will probably never meet me. If they knew all I am carrying, they would run away. If they didn't, they must be crazy. I want to believe they are real, and so I will risk this next step.

I've never written something specifically for someone who asked for it.

Something tells me it's worth it, no matter what the outcome.

I haven't ridden this bike in a long time. Let's hope I don't wobble and fall over.

~ ~ ~ ~

"Daddy Issues"

The bell at the door rang as another customer came into the little diner where I was sitting. It had been a long day, and I was tired and ready to go home and relax. I'd finished my coffee, and was about to consider a slice of pie and a refill, when I noticed the young lady who had walked in. She was in a short, swishy little black dress with spaghetti straps that did little to conceal not only her bra straps, but the petite little figure underneath it.

As she leaned over the counter to call the server, I involuntarily leaned back to see more of her, and oh what more I saw. Her cute little bottom poked out like a tiny soft pillow underneath her skirt, and the way she was leaning revealed the perfect outline of lace panties that scarcely would have covered anything underneath. I must have been lingering on this way too long, because she turned and met my gaze with her own. There was a moment of shock, curiosity, and then realization in her eyes of what my eyes had been tarrying on. A slight smile crept across her face, and her eyes rolled playfully as if to say "Good luck "Dad". I am half your age." That fact sunk home almost as soon as I had imagined it, and I went back to cold reality.

A few moments went by, and I heard her speak again. She was on her phone now, and I could only hear her side of the conversation.

"Yes, my food is ready, but I don't have any money."
"You were supposed to leave it in my purse."
"Well, what am I supposed to do now? Can you pay for it with your card and I pay you back?"
"I can't believe this. I'm hungry, and they are gonna be pissed that I have to leave it."

She glanced over at me again, and seemed embarrassed. She turned away and said more to the person on the phone, but it was muffled by the sounds of plates being washed in the kitchen. I knew I would probably never see her again, but I felt a strong desire to help. Taking my own check with me, I walked over to the register, and said to the cashier? "How much is her order?"

The young girl turned, and said "Oh! No, really, you don't need to do that. It's fine."

I ignored her, and said to the cashier "Just put hers on mine."

The girl relaxed her shoulders, smiled politely, and said under her breath "Thank you. Really." Now a smile came, and she offered me her hand. I took it, and while this should have been just a handshake, (and it may have been just that for her) her soft hand sent a spark of electricity from my neck all the way down to my center, and I embarassingly turned away to hide my growing embarrassment.

"Damn it. All it takes is a flipping puff of wind to get me going, sometimes." I thought. *sigh*

After paying, as I was leaving, and I walked to my car, I saw her sitting in her driver's seat, finishing her lunch. "Wow, she's fast!" I thought. "She must have been hungry!" I opened my car door, then heard her say "Damn it to hell!" I turned to see her trying to crank her car, but only silence met her efforts. "This is all I need today." she said to the dashboard.

I made my way over to her, and when she saw it was me again, I got the same look I had before. "Oh my gosh. No, really. You don't have to do anything." she said. Of course, I wanted to help, but I thought "What if I am now bordering on creepy?" "What if she just wants me to go away?" I looked down and started to walk off, but after a moment, I heard her say "I'm so sorry, Sir. Um, do you think you could give me a ride home? I'm just right up the road." I turned and smiled, and a minute later she was in the passenger seat of my truck, playing awkwardly with the radio.

On the drive back to her apartment, I was trying not to stare, but I couldn't help it. She was like a woman from the pages of a dream yet unrealized. Her dark brown eyes and chestnut hair captured me in a way I was unable to push past, and when she looked at me again and smiled, the thin strip of fading scarlet on her lips made me want her in ways I had no right to entertain. I tried to play it off so calmly, but I kept betraying myself by stealing another glance...and another. Her long legs were a soft porcelain, and even though I had never felt this kind of fetish before in my life, when she put her feet up on my dash, her little painted toes made my blood boil. I wanted this girl in every possible way, and at that moment I allowed my mind to go to a place that should have made me blush:

*I pictured her on top of me, reverse-cowgirl, and my cock appearing and disappearing deep inside of her. Each time she went up, my body screamed for her muscles to return downward, and with each lowering of her hips, those muscles slipped over the head and created a "popping" sensation inside of her that made my climax approach way too soon. In this ever enveloping fantasy, at the moment of no return, I realized to my shock that I had forgotten to put on a condom before we began. I groaned out loud to her "No, I forgot the...!" but I heard her voice purr "I know. I wanted it that way. Fill me with you. I want to feel it. All of it." her hips drove up and down, and with my last sane thought I grabbed those hips and pulled her down hard, my cock sending cascading spurts of my release deep inside of her...*

A giggle from her jarred me from my daydream, and I looked her way. She was gazing down at my lap, and then she looked back up at me "Oh my! Ummm..." she said. I looked where she had been staring, and my cock was pushing upward, straining for release through my khakis. I felt a moment of mortification, and embarrassment. She sad "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...Oh! We're almost there, turn here." I obeyed, and couldn't wait for this girl to be out of the car so I could go home and hide my head in shame. We pulled up to her building, and she thanked me once more as she was opening the passenger door to leave. My cock was now (thankfully) at half-mast, and I was forcing myself to not look at her this time. She must think I am such a loser.

"By the way..." she said.

I looked at her once more, and she had a slight grin on her face. She reached over, and as if it were all happening in slow-motion, I saw her hand gently rest on the crotch of my pants. She curled her fingers around the bulge I was trying so desperately to hide, and gave a loving, gentle squeeze.

My cock SURGED under her touch, and an involuntary groan came from deep inside me.

"I'm sorry for putting you in such a position. I'll go now. But..."

My expression must have been a sight, because when she looked back at me, she bit her lip and said "If you would like to come up and help me with something, Sir...I would appreciate it. More than you know."

She closed the door behind her, gave one last look from behind those beautiful lashes, and turned toward her apartment. My hands were trembling as I prepared to put the car in reverse, but then I looked down on the seat next to me. A little scrap of paper read "Apartment 444."

My eyes shot forward as I caught a glimpse of her skirt just disappearing behind the corner. It only took one second for my body and mind to dictate what must happen. She was half my age. I put the truck in reverse, backed out, and made my way toward the exit. As soon as I was at the first turn outward, that same bolt of electricity snaked through my body once again, and I imagined those fingers curled not around the bulge in my slacks, but instead around the pulsing length of my cock, the head pulsing with each beat of my heart.

Like a maniac, I turned around, drove back to her building, and locked my truck as I left. I prayed with everything that I had in me that I was not about to walk into an apartment and get hit on the head with a baseball bat by her crazed boyfriend. With trembling legs, I walked up the flight of stairs, and found her door. I was about to knock, when I saw that it was barely shut-to. A feeling of excitement shot through me, as I realized that she had been confident I would not be far behind.

I pushed the door open,  felt the warm air sweep past me, and heard light music playing from her computer desk. (What was I doing?!) This surreal moment didn't last, because her voice came softly to me from the other side of the room. "You came." She was on her couch, panties lying on the floor in front of her, with legs parted slightly, and fingertips gently brushing somewhere underneath her skirt. Her voice was shaking slightly as she said "I...didn't know if you were going to come up or not. I saved a place for you...Sir." and she gestured to a place on the floor in front of her.

Her hands were trembling, and she said "I'm so...warm...Sir...will you taste me?"

If a person has craved the taste of cotton candy (for example) for so long, and finally catches the fragrance of it at the fair, his mouth literally begins to water as his memory of the taste of it's soft, sweet, warm sugar sweeps through his mind. At that moment, her fragrance supernaturally filled my senses from across the room, and I wanted nothing more than to drink her like a man starved of water.

I walked over, knelt in front of her, inhaled the scent of her in earnest, now...and moved forward to her garden of spices. The first taste was like a river of pure honey, and my cock responded by pressing full and hard against my zipper. I forced it back with everything I had, and only when I thought I had control of this did I move upward, and let the flat of my tongue lick her clit full and long. Her legs buckled, and her hands pulled my head forward as the gasp that came from her lips made my cock swell fully once again.

Between incoherent words of approval, and directions of *faster*...*slower*...*oh...Go-OD!* came from her lips, I concentrated fully on her clit, while inserting my tongue inside her to gather more of her juices whenever I could. Suddenly, her breath became erratic, and her heels dug themselves into my back just under my shoulder blades. Her hips jerked, and I knew her climax was coming, and coming soon. I cupped one hand under each side of her bottom, and now focused fully on her clit. I licked it fast, then slow, then fast, then slow...her breath was ragged, and all at once, her body tensed up with such force that I could feel her gluts flex under my palms. I changed tactics, and sucked her clit like a lollipop...her juices gave a gentle rain of sweetness and musk, as her body spasmed again and again. I hung on for all she would give me, and only when she cried out "No more no more no more..." did I let her go.

My cock was straining for any kind of release, and when her eyes finally fluttered open, she looked at me with searching eyes and a slight nervous giggle.

She bit her lip once more, and slid off the couch to her knees. She reached up, cupped her hand under my balls through my jeans, and slowly began to undo my slacks. With each movement, she allowed her hand to caress the front, and my cock surged with each touch. She lowered my jeans, gently kissed the head of my cock through my boxers, and then lowered those as well. The head of my cock was so swollen and hard, as alike in shape as a small, red ripe plum.

She looked up into my eyes one last time, and said "Would you like me to take care of this, Sir? I promise not to lose a drop..."

She didn't wait for a response, and she wet her lips in preparation. I forced my eyes to stay locked onto hers. I would not be taken away from those beautiful eyes, not matter what.

"By the way.." she said "I'm bisexual, and I'm told I have a very talented tongue..."

She leaned forward, and her lips slipped over the head...

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Judge Me

Before you get into my blog, whether you want to or not, I want to invite you to judge me. Hate me. Forget me. Turn around and run away. Tell me to go to hell. I'm giving you that option, because you already have it anyway, and also because I'm going to be transparent about who I am before you even read about what I want and how I tick.

Three facts:

1. I am completely obsessed with oral. (If you bother to read my blog, you will no doubt call that an understatement.) While I have nothing against straight sex, and I enjoy it very much, oral is my greatest pleasure, both giving AND receiving. Not just teasing, either. I want the full experience from beginning to end. Every woman I have been with (not that there have been that many) has either NOT wanted oral, or been willing to tolerate it as long as they can pull away at the last second. I'm not asking for you to swallow, I just want to know how it feels to come that way. Just once. I will go down on you ENDLESSLY beforehand if you would only give me that gift.

2. I am in a relationship, and I am not going to leave it. I have been in this relationship for over 10 years, and I plan on being in it for life. My partner is not interested in oral in any shape or form, and once told me "If you want that, you won't get it from me. You'll have to find it elsewhere. Just spare me the details."

3. I do not sleep around. In fact, I am so meticulous about my personal grooming and physical well-being  that the idea of seeking out a hooker or hitting the bars is completely "out" for me. I don't have any nasties, and I don't want them. The person I am looking for won't have them either, and in order to build that trust, I want to know them VERY well before any sexual contact is made.

Bonus Fact:

Last night a college girl messaged me (or at least I assume she is real; I have played this game long enough to spot a fake pretty easily) and I spent the majority of the night SO turned on about this idea that I could hardly sleep.

But it won't happen.

It never does.

On with the blog.

Thursday, November 7, 2013

This is Me.

It is quite safe to say that at least 90% of these stories were inspired be real people in my life, or people I have encountered, or dreams I have had. (Although, most of it has never happened to me, especially what you will no doubt see is my biggest kink in these stories.)

And the photo below is also quite possibly the reason that I find myself writing many of my stories. Yes, as a creative and sexual release, but also because there are days when I am walking through a store, coffee shop, along a street, etc...and I will see a woman who makes me so aroused that I cannot turn off my passion for wondering...

And yes, I do.


Friday, July 26, 2013

I Want This More Than Anything...

You step into your dorm room after a long day of classes. Your head is full of numbers and schedules and formulas and writing assignments and deadlines..and your arms are full of books. You sit down on your bed, toss your backpack in the corner, kick off your shoes and pull on slipper socks, PJ pants, and a hoodie that you bum around in while your time is your own. You are the picture of cuddly frump, and you stretch your arms and legs out at full length...tense...and relax.

Thus begins my next fantasy...a college student. And understand, I am not talking about the pornographic images of "Girls Gone Wild" or "Teen XXX Coeds", I want to find a regular, beautiful, sweet, kind, confident, and sexy college girl who drives a 10 year old car, wears a college sweatshirt, hangs out in the quad, and has NEVER had a OLDER MAN take the time to explore her entire body, concentrating on HER arousal before his own, and seeing the prize as HER orgasm, not "banging a college chick". She doesn't even have to be the cliche college student age, although I am more the "daddy" type in real life and prefer girls between the ages of 21 and 30.

I want it to be in her dorm room, it's the weekend and her roommate is away at home. I want her to be focused on grades and tests and homework and finals and think to herself "I'm going to be glued to a fucking desk this weekend." I want to invite her to sit at that desk, books splayed out in front of her, laptop open to Wikipedia or some other such nonsense...and then ask her to let me slip UNDER that desk and do what I want with her from below.

Her breath catches in her throat...this is something she'd only read about in erotica novels, having a man taste her arousal, inhale her heat, concentrate on HER pleasure, and leave her exhausted from multiple orgasms...boys don't take that kind of time, but a older man...he would KNOW the honor he had been given, and not take it for granted.

She looks at me, and shakily nods her head yes. Her breath is coming out shorter, and her heart is already accelerating at what is about to happen. I lean forwards and kiss her forehead, wrapping my arms around her, and telling her in a whisper "This is my gift to YOU. I'm not expecting anything in return; only if you want more will I give it to you..." and with that I slip under her desk.

She sits at her chair, and rolls up to the desk. My world darkens, and I rest one hand on each of her thighs. The view I have is so damn hot I have to force myself to not orgasm just from seeing her from this angle, but I have plans for her...and this will not be interrupted by trivial personal arousal.

I lean forward, inhaling the first hints of her estrogen, and have to stifle a groan at how GOOD this is going to taste. I slip a hand into her skirt, feeling the satin panties that cover her, and finding they are already damp. I trace her lips through he fabric, allowing my hands to barely brush her clit, and feeling her legs tense each time my hand brushes her most sensitive area. I finally slip my hands under the waistband of her panties, and slide them off. I run my hands around to her ass, squeezing firmly, then gently part her knees and lean forward as my first taste of her sends me into a euphoric high. Teasing her with my tongue, running the tip up and down along the sides of her clit....not fully on it...just teasing it. I insert my tongue into her opening, tasting her offering of sweetness trickling outward. I drink it in, not wasting one precious drop...wrapping my arms around her torso, pushing forward with more intensity now...flicking my tongue across her clit now, and then full-on licking it...pausing each few seconds to drink her in again...hard as steel in my own arousal, but FOCUSED on hers foremost.

Her hands slip over my head, guiding me closer to her...and I respond with even more eagerness to taste her. Her breath is coming in ragged gasps, and her hips begin to buck against me. I stay fully focused on that beautiful triangle of MY OWN DESIRE and her own flesh. Fucking her with my tongue, then tracing it upward to let the full-flat of my tongue lap over her clit...sucking it like a lollipop, inserting one finger into her and feeling her muscles contract. (What that would feel like around my own cock, dear God!!)

Suddenly, her legs tense, and I feel her thighs close around my head. This is what I have been WANTING...NEEDING...DESIRING. I suckle her clit into my mouth, like a child to the breast, and work it gently under my tongue as I hang on for her impending orgasm. Her calves and thigh muscles flex hard, and as I place a hand on her tummy I feel her insides shaking. Her hips jerk violently, and she cries out in blissful orgasmic agony, and I taste a flow of her juices that I savor...and cherish...and want more than anything to taste AGAIN....and AGAIN.

I look up at her, and her hands are shaking, her legs are like rubber, and my cock is like a piece of steel. I crawl out from under the desk, stand in front of her, and attempt to help her to her feet. Her breath is still coming out in ragged gasps, and a slight nervous laugh escapes her. She looks up at me, then lays her head against my crotch as her body continues to unwind from her orgasm. As she does this, my cock feels her cheek rest against it, and involuntarily swells as I tremble all over. She turns to see the bulge, and slides her palm over it in a gentle "cup" she looks up at me and smiles...her hand finds my zipper.


She slips her fingers into the fly, and my cock reacts to this new touch with pulses of anticipation. She unbuttons my jeans, lets them fall, and takes my boxers down as well. My cock is so hard the head is a light purple, and her lips slip over it.

(the sensation is so incredible my mind explodes into another reality)

Up and down...up and down...her pouting lips take me in again and again...she looks up at me, and I hold back my orgasm with as much resolve as I can muster...I don't want to upset her...but this will end in my coming, and LOTS OF IT too. She looks up again, and my legs lose their purchase...I say with my last ability to speak " move...away...!!" She closes her eyes and takes my hips in her hand, hums gently as she moves faster now, my cock now BEYOND any ability to stop...I can't...I can't...


I groan with her name on my lips as the first spurt shoots into her mouth...then another...and another...she wastes none...and then begins humming again as even more spurts find her waiting mouth....

Oh God...Oh God...Oh God...please...please don't stop...please....

Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Milk and Honey

Yes it has been forever and a day since I have written a damn thing. What keeps me from writing is the same thing that keeps someone who is unable to run cross country from going to the park where people are on the jogging trails 24/7 in their cute little spandex shorts and iPod earbuds. If we can't have it, it hurts like hell to even think about it.

So up until now I have pretty much kept my geographical location out of things. Partly because of the irrational need to remain private, but also because I didn't feel it relevant to anything I was writing. Hell, what I have written was not an attempt to lure local girls to my bedroom. It was an outlet for my imagination and frustration. But I think I can pretty much abandon that idea now. I don't care if you know where I am. I'm not exactly going to point you to my door or to my lunchtime coffee hangout, but why not tell you about my city?

I live in Auburn, Alabama. Not exactly in the heart of town, but close enough to everything to be able to enjoy the city. I have lived here for about ten years. A lot has happened to me, but I won't bore you with all of that garbage. This is a college town, and I get to see the best and brightest young people of today come and go, along with the dumbest and most useless. I have sat in Toomer's drugstore drinking lemonade, strolled past Samford Hall, wandered through Tigertown, and jogged through Kiesel Park.

So right about now you are thinking that I ogle all the college girls and imagine myself sleeping with every new flavor of teenage legs that walks by with a Tigers college tee strained across her breasts.


In fact, most teenage girls turn me off. By teenagers, I don't just mean people in their teens. I mean any college student that giggles like an idiot, twirls their hair, and is obviously one of those people in high school who cared more about their iPhone than their grades. Today I want to tell you about something that did turn me on, and it was a humdinger, let me say that right now.

And there is nothing redeeming about this whatsoever. It is 100% pure lust. I was at a coffee shop in town, and there was a group of students milling about laughing and yelling about youtube videos they had seen online, and about who did this and who did that, and who got who got shit-faced from too much alcohol. Standard teenage silliness. I was sitting at my booth alone with my Kindle and coffee. I was dressed from a day at work; khakis and a dress shirt with loosened tie. I glanced over at the group from time to time, wondering if any of these kids cared about the education they had here more than their peers' escapades. One girl in particular was painfully adorable, tight little tank top "Aubie Girl" shirt, perfectly formed little baseball sized breasts, legs that went on forever...from the cute little sandals she wore that showed off her french manicured toes all the way up to where her gym shorts barely hid the gorgeous silhouette of her sex. Yes, of course I am looking. I am dead on staring; and for a moment, I think I see a tiny whisp of dark curlies peek out. My mind dissolves into what her arousal would taste and smell like as I ravaged her body with kisses from her head to beautiful toes. I'm 37, so I am twice her age, most likely. She has probably had at least one or two sexual partners by now, and maybe one of them has actually made her climax of his own accord. I imagine how it would be if I had her to myself for a night. I would not even begin my pleasure until I had made her so hot she was gasping for words, and even then I would want at least one spine twisting orgasm to rack her body before my cock even made it's way into her hands. I imagined what her little puckered lips would look and feel like as they slipped over the head of my cock, and how I would have to WILL myself not to explode in her mouth from the mental image of that alone. This entire fantasy was interrupted, however, because I was not vigilant enough about my own bearings, and as I looked longingly at her mouth, I became aware that she was looking back at me. My eyes locked with hers, and for a split second there was that moment of "What happens here, I wonder?" The movies fill our heads with images of the girl smiling demurely as she lowers her eyes, and then leaving the restaurant with a giggle and a second glance stolen at the gentleman...teasing him with her eyes. That isn't how it happens in real life though. In reality, what happened was she wrinkled her nose, rolled her eyes, and wrapped one arm around the college guy standing behind her. He leaned over and kissed her, and the moment was gone. Their party got up and left soon after, and I was alone again.

That was when I saw her. She was not a student; not at the moment anyway. Right now she was a waitress. Maybe she works to pay her way through college. Maybe she lives here in town. Maybe her grades weren't good enough for college, but she needed the job...who knows? I could find all these things out I suppose, but she is very busy. Lunch rush has ended and she is cleaning up getting ready for the next wave. What sexy outfit is she wearing, you ask? A dark green polo that has faded areas from repeated washings, a pair of black uniform pants, no-slip shoes, and her hair is in a ragged ponytail. She walks with purpose, towel in hand ready to wipe tables. The outline of her cell phone shows through the back pocket of her pants. She is maybe early twenties, at most. She looks at me, smiles, walks over and asks if I want more coffee. Her nametag says Jessica. I nod yes, and she returns to top me off. As she walks back to the counter, I see her stop for a moment, look both ways, and slip off one shoe. Little white no-show socks reveal an ankle that tapers upward to nicely defined legs, as far as I can see. She leans against the counter, brings her foot up, and massages the sole deeply. Her eyes roll back in her head for a moment, and slipping her shoe back on, she pauses to do the same for the other foot. The front door buzzes, and she quickly slips the shoe back on, goes to the hand sanitizer station, washes up, and puts on a smile for the customer with the to-go order. I forget myself for a moment and allow my mind to wander again...

In my mind, she walks back over to me, and tells me her story. How she got here, what she wanted in life, and how she will get it or die trying. We talk of how I know she WILL get what she wants because I see how hard she works, and how I think a beautiful young lady like herself has the world at her feet, she just needs to wake up and see what I already see in her eyes. We talk off and on between customers, and when things get busy again, she says "Maybe we can...I dunno?" I ask when she gets off work, and she writes her number on a napkin. I come back at the end of her shift, and she nervously smiles and suggests that me might go back to her place for a beer.

On the drive back to her apartment, she talks for a few minutes, then nods off a few times...utterly exhausted and sleep deprived. When we get there, she sits down and immediately starts to get back up to get the drink for me. I step over to her, gently push her back down on the sofa, and say "You rest; I will get it." I find the drinks in her fridge, and walk back to her with a pillow I have grabbed from the chair by the TV. I hand her the glass, sit at her feet, sliding a pillow under her knees, and resting her feet in my lap. I remove one shoe and then the other, then begin a slow, deep massage of each foot from her heel all the way to her toes. Her head lies back against the sofa, and little moans of pleasure escape her. I work intently on each foot, and then move up to her ankles and lower calves. She is now completely relaxed, and she says "If you keep that up, I will fall asleep. I know I will." I tell her to do what she feels, and she says "Do you mean that?" I tell her yes, and she unbuttons her slacks and sheds them to the floor. I take a moment to enjoy the view of her legs. I was right, they are trim and lithe, but totally relaxed at this moment. She lies her head back again. I gently massage her legs now, working up to just below her knees. She smiles and says "I will give you exactly four hours to stop that." I work slowly upward, careful not to overstep my bounds. Her lacy boyshorts reveal a firm, tight little bottom. I ask if she would like me to work on her back, and she says "Oh, God yes..." and she stands and strips off her shirt. Her little bra leaves nothing to the imagination, and when she lies down on the couch, I explore the hard lines in her shoulder blades and her lower spine. She lets out a "Mmm." every now and then, and I finally hear a sound I knew was coming. Measured, even breaths and a slight tiny little snore.

She is out.

I sit there patiently. Two hours pass, and finally she stirs. She apologizes profusely, and starts to get up. Once again, I tell her to stay put. She sits back down, and looks up at me with such a beautiful face that I can hardly imagine the waitress that once lived inside it. I ask her if she would like to wash up, and she says she would. She goes to the bathroom and runs a bath, then tells me she will be out soon. I sit and wait, and after a few moments, I hear her say "Would you mind doing something for me?" I stand at the door and say "What do you need?" She says "I would love it if you would wash my back." A lump is in my throat. I step through the door and see her turned away from me, sitting in a tub of bubbles. She nods toward the sponge hanging from the shower head, and I take it and work it up into a lather. I wash her back, and she reaches back to her ponytail and pulls it to the side. I wash her neck and shoulders, and then prepare to exit so that she can have more alone time. She thanks me, and I smile as I see the smallest hint of a nipple peeking from beneath her arm.

I step outside, and become aware that I am fully aroused and hard as steel. I push this thought from my head as best I can as I hear water running and then draining from the tub from behind the door. Suddenly, I hear her voice again. "Could you do me one last favor?" I tell her "Yes." through the door, and without warning, the door opens. She stands there, fully naked, nipples responding to the change in temperature, and her little hard belly trembling in the chill. Without any control left, I slide to my knees in front of her, and looking up into the carefully manicured patch of pubic hair framing her clit, I bury my face into her crotch, my tongue finding her clit in one smooth movement. Her body falls slowly back against the wall, and she cries out in one long moan "Oh God, that! Yes please..."

(to be continued...)

Tuesday, April 3, 2012


Summer; it always makes things uncomfortably humid, and today that fact is the only excuse I can give for the slight woozy feeling in my ears as I approach your door. It has been a long, long time since I have found the courage to to do anything like this. In my relationship, I am the one in control. Now, to a degree, I am surrendering that control to a stranger. I am both excited, aroused, and utterly terrified.

But I won't turn back now.

I knock gently, and my heart hammers in my chest as I hear footsteps inside. I have tried to dress nicely, but not be awkward. I don't know why I stressed over this so much. I mean, what isn't awkward about this? The door opens, and you are there. The smile that washes over your face melts away any reservations I have for the moment, and I step inside. Your home is inviting, but very lived in. I like that, and you apologize for the mess that I can't see.

We make very awkward small talk, and I feel my foot twisting on the floor. I'm nervous, and you can see it. You walk over to me, put your hands on my shoulders, and lock your eyes with mine.

"Relax, please." You say with a smile. "I know you've waited for this a long, long time. I want to make your first time so unbelievable that every woman after me will be held to this standard in your mind."

You know that because I have no prior experience with being given oral all the way, that your performance will be unparalleled no matter what. You consider this, and giggle inside as you know that no matter how badly you suck (ah, what a nice pun that is) that I will be so overwhelmed by your mouth that I will cry out your name again and again!

"This will be good." you whisper under your breath.

You take my hand, and lead me over to a comfortable spot on your sofa. I sit, and you begin by kissing a spot on my neck that you know will stimulate the nerve impulses that will ignite my arousal. Your lips dance gently across my neck, and the first pulses of need surge from my cock, and the head strains gently against it's boundaries.

As if by instinct, your hand finds the bulge in my crotch, and cups it softly, then a gentle squeeze. My cock surges upward to meet your caress, and I hear your laugh softly. You know your craft, and I can only hope that you will be gentle with me.

You fall to your knees, your eyes never leaving mine. My whole body is shivering with need. You unbuckle my belt, and with each movement your hands deftly execute, my cock pulses with my heartbeat. As your find my boxers, there is no way to conceal anything anymore. The head is at 12 o'clock, and straining for release. You tuck your fingers under the waistband, and lower my boxers. My cock is surging at it's full 6 inch length, and I feel a moment of slight embarrassment that I am not as long as most men claim to be. The head of my cock is full and round, and bouncing lightly with anticipation. You smile, wet your mouth, and I groan LOUDLY as I feel your lips slip over the head.

Your mouth is beyond description, and I won't even attempt to describe your technique. Maybe you could describe it to me in a message. (God, I would LOVE that!)

As your pursue my arousal, I feel myself getting closer and closer. I groan again, and say "Not yet, oh god not yet!" You slow your efforts, wanting to show me all you are capable of. You switch techniques, and I find what feels like a completely different set of lips on my cock, but it is only a testimony to your perfection in this area. I twist in my seat, whimpering like a child, and begging for more...more...more!

After several minutes of this, I feel my orgasm welling up from deep inside. I mentally focus ALL my efforts on NOT allowing it to overcome me, but your tongue proves too talented for my self control. My body stiffens, and with my final sane thought I cry out your name. The head of my cock swells likes a ripe plum about to burst, and with your last move, your begin to suck the head like a lollipop. My first spasm is so intense my back arches like a bowed string, and I growl like an animal. You gently sweep your tongue back and forth as each spurt finds it's mark, and as the spasms subside, you sadistically continue the stimulation, as sensory overload sweeps across me again and again.

I beg you to stop, and with your eyes locked onto mine, you give one last loving suck...and I collapse with complete awe and worship of the gift you have just that will be remembered by me for the rest of my life, as will you, it's giver.