Driving back caravan style with the music boy:

Text from him:
Come lead so it feels like a nice doggy style
You imagining a strap on in me right now?

Now that took me for a loop. And by that I mean I turned bright red, thankfully no one was in my car to notice. Um, excuse me? When I spend time with him its nice. It’s exciting and engaging and l feel lifted. I like his size I like the way he moves his body. He’s like a Great Dane puppy, but I HATE the way he gets under my skin and can figure out what I want out of our relationship. It’s awful.
So it got me thinking, did I want a strap on in him? Just thinking about it gets me excited. I want to hear him beg for it, I want him to ask for it. I want it to come fashioned with one of those little vibrators so I can get some jollies at the same time. I can think of nothing better to tame that wild beast than to have him begging for my dick in his ass.
Now, this is all theory. Sexually, this sounds fantastic. Realistically….I don’t like my ass let alone a guy’s ass. They are fuzzy and stuff. I still haven’t really worked out the difference between fantasy and reality.
But I still have this great fantasy now of the two of us. He helps me put it on. I don’t need the help, but I want him involved in the process. And while he does, of course he touches; he gets me excited he keeps us both in the game. I get wet giving head; I can see this being pretty similar. Hearing his sighs, the groans, and the grunts. Now the lubing, see this is where I lose it, it becomes comical and gross. But in theory, in my fantasy I fuck him; I do imagine myself in his ass. My little body on top of his; in his. He says he wants my cock, and I fuck him slowly, then get more of a rhythm going, why do guys have all the fun calorically with sex? This seems like a great way to get my workout in too. He’s hard the entire time, whenever I push in I rub my hand up his cock focusing on his head and when I pull out, I squeeze and pull on his balls. He’s talking dirty, I tell him to push further back, it goes in deeper., he winces but relaxes a little bit after the initial pain. After a little while, I want to come, I tell him so. He swiftly moves out from under me and before I know it I’m on the bottom and he’s removing my accoutrement. With one pull and a swift thrust, he’s inside me. I want him to come with me. I want us both to come together. He’s working me from the inside and I pull on his balls, hard. I grab on to his thighs and hold on, just letting him fuck us both until we come.

So yes, I am imagining him with a strap on.















Um, how did he know?!?!

A year older; wiser?

Sorry it’s been awhile, I’ve been traveling internationally and I put “write post” on my to do list before I left, but I never got around to feeling comfortable enough in my parent’s house to blog. I don’t know how a place that birthed my sexual experimentation inspires frigidity. Forgive me; it’s been a few weeks since I’ve masturbated. But now that I am back in this country, and my apartment, the blog will continue.
I have been thinking a lot too about the topic; I always find that with a new interest (or an old interest that rejoins the pack) my mind starts wandering to new ideas and sexual possibilities. My fantasy sex life is always more exciting and vibrant than the real deal.
I really think, that my kink involves something verbal. The porn that gets me off these days are the ones where there’s a lot of back and forth. I’ve also been getting really excited by the idea of forced orgasms. I think this is the most productive aspect of BDSM that I have seen (besides all the role play and the ability to be bossy). I think this is super sexy and I think pretty easy to accomplish with a guy; I mean they’re always hard! There’s something particularly humiliating and fantastic about a forced male orgasm, especially when that’s your intention, yet you are trying to make them hold back. The level of disappointment can be wonderful to work with. If anyone has any experience I would love to know what you think, what you’ve done, and how you’ve done it. Just thinking about this gets me all jittery. There is so much room for humiliation play just in the guys inability to control his erection. Absolutely wonderful, and since I love, love playing with cocks to begin with, I see some future in this.
I’m also back on the idea of a strap on. Truthfully, I was never 100% into it. I’m not a butt person, but I’ve been thinking about it, and I’m coming around. But I wonder if I would just feel silly, I mean, I get wet giving head, and they make those belts that have a vibrator in them for the wearer, so that could be a positive. I am still not closer to shelling out the $$ yet though, so actual use is far away. But I have an idea and I might share it as fiction to see what everyone thinks.
Back to my childhood, it really baffles me. I just could never get in the right mind frame to think sexy, and with no material (since I have no regular mens) it was like there was a sexual desire firewall. This is the same home that I let my high school boyfriend sneak into after I had to be home for curfew and my parents went to bed. This is the same house that I used to throw parties in and host just as an excuse to get the boy I fancied at that moment into my house and into my clutches. This house witnessed many firsts, of mine as well as m friends! With all this rich history of deviant adolescent sexual promiscuity, you would think I could at least settle in enough to masturbate, nope.
I think it had to do with a particular date; I just celebrated my 27th birthday. I am a year older, maybe a little wiser. But still single and therefore still defective in some of my family’s eyes. It’s not that they don’t love me, it’s that they worry.
I had a conversation with my mother where she basically asked me if I am choosing this life of intense yet unfulfilling useless relationships and do I ever plan on settling down. And now at 27 I got to thinking, does settling down mean I have to settle? Because if that’s the case, I accept my cougar badge now and I’m going to start getting to work on my Rolodex.

Mile High Club

I need to be honest, the reason I haven’t been writing is partly due to the fact I didn’t want to admit some things to myself. The new boy, the one who looked so promising is not exactly the best person in the world. He is very perceptive and knows the things about myself that I might not be 100% comfortable with and uses them against me. I know my flaws, I don’t need to be reminded of them constantly. That is not healthy, and makes me feel really awful. I am limiting what little contact I have with him and trying to expand my options. I think I just need to not think about men, a hiatus if you will. Like primetime network programming (but its soooo hard!!!)

So with no men to regularly keep me warm at night, I have done what I do best. Retreat into fantasy.

On the way back from WMC I sat across from the most delicious man. I’m from the tri-state area (NY, NJ, CT), I’m not going to give you more details, but coming from a suburb outside of Manhattan I am very familiar with a certain type of man. They are incredibly vulnerable, yet like to appear hard. So, on my flight, hopped up on xanax and a glass of red wine, I stared at this guy for the entire flight. Thank god he slept most of the time or he would have thought I was a pervert (ok, I am a little).
He’s probably in his 20s, I’d say of Italian descent (not real Italian, NY/NJ/CT Italian, a different breed all together), shaved head, roman profile with deep brown eyes and long almost feminine lashes. He actually looks like an ex boyfriend, but better, bigger, sweeter. He’s wearing a white t-shirt, bright shockingly white Nikes, and jeans, just a hint of a tribal band tattoo peeking out of his sleeve. Large flashy watch dangling on his left wrist with thick fingers that look like they either work for a living or are calloused from the gym, probably a little of both. I would say not taller than 5’10”. His mouth is slightly open as he tries to sleep in the small airplane seat. I open my mouth unconsciously, then realize I just did that and blush. His lips are full with a slight upturn on the left side. I am a sucker for that Italian asshole snarl and he has it in spades. I want that smile, with the left side turned up, that cocky demeanor over me. I want that mouth smirking at me while I’m being fucked hard and good. There is something to be said for a cocky attitude and shit-eating grin that gets me all the time.
I fantasize about running my hands over his arms tracing his tattoo, looking for more, maybe something on his back, calf, I want to look everywhere. Running my hands and nails over his buzzed head tracing down the back of his nape, making him shiver. They appear tough, but nothing gets this type like a little seduction. I would scratch a little and run my thumb over his lower lip and watch him smile under my finger, straddling him while I felt the softness of those full lips. I would slowly make circles with my hips, nothing too noticeable, balancing my weight, only lightly touching him. I would Grab the back of his neck and bring that cocky mouth close to mine, forcing it into silence as I kiss him gently then taking liberties, and use more force pull him closer with my hand behind his neck all the while grinding harder and lower into his crotch, feeling his cock through his jeans. I would move back and take him in, running my hands up and down his body, feeling that soft tanned olive skin. I would smile, giving him a snarl of my own. I lift his white t-shirt over his head deeply inhaling his cologne and natural male smell. It would be Aqua or Angel for men or one of those other fragrances that guys like that always like to wear, something slightly musky and overbearing. Just like his watch, overly flashy. I squirm in my seat as I stare at him as he scratches his head from front to back.
I would lift myself off his crotch gently playing with the waistband of his jeans. He tries to help, eagerly moving his hands closer fumbling with his buttons. I give him a look and move his hands away, placing one on my lower back, the other at his side. I run my hands over his chest, pushing slightly not saying anything but letting him know, this is my show. His hands go where I want them. He growls deep in his throat and moves close to my neck, biting me hard. I moan and try not to fall back onto his crotch. I wrap my hand around his neck keeping him firmly in place as I open his fly with the other hand, freeing his cock from his boxer briefs. He starts whispering dirty things into my ear, moving his free hand down my collarbone. I wrap my small hand around his fat cock. It’s not large but its thick. I get chills as I feel my shirt move down and feel each finger as it grazes my chest. He unzips my shirt exposing my bra. He looks in my eyes as he teases the skin right above the cup of my left breast. I squeeze his cock and reach lower massaging his balls. The anticipation is killing me, for all my big talk and attitude, I want this to end soon, I need to come. I move trying to get his hand to touch my nipple; I want those rough fingers to touch all the sensitive places on my body. He looks at my breast and then up at me through those long brown eyelashes, maintaining eye contact he runs his hand from my collarbone to my breast, cupping it then using his thumb to circle my nipple then pinch it gently. My eyes roll back in my head and he steadies me with the hand that still sits on my lower back and he laughs a little to himself.
Shit, he wakes up…. does he know I am picturing us almost fucking? Am I blushing? He adjusts himself, stretches I realize I am holding my breath like he can read my thoughts. He places one hand on his inner thigh and I know my mouth is open now, possibly drooling as the stewardess collects my empty tomato juice. He’s wearing a chain, I wonder if it holds dog tags or a cross. I want to find out, reach into that soft white shirt and pull them out and wrap the chain tightly around his neck and nibble from ear to collar bone. I want to feel those arms wrap around me as he pulls me close, removes my bra. (While I was staring at the real man, the fantasy M Leah removed her pants and panties). I lower myself feeling him slowly enter me and wonder if anyone else on the plane thinks it’s getting hot in here. He leans me back then lowers his head to my nipple and sucks on it using his teeth to bite every now and again. His cock is pushing out of his jeans and his black boxer briefs and as I lower myself I can feel both fabrics, the scratchy denim and the soft cotton on my thighs. I use my thighs to steady the pace, feeling every inch of him. I wonder if the guy sitting next to me knows what’s going on in my head right now, that I am having dirty wild monkey sex.

It kind of reminded me of this:

One handed read

Being home for the holidays, I have no MJ outlet and my adorable boy is out in the Bahamas for Christmas through New Years so I have no one to share my naughty fantasies with. All my fantasies involve the Boy; you can insert the man of your choice…
I have this fantasy of him leaning over a really tall table, perhaps a bar, Kitchen Island, something taller than a dining room table. He’s naked standing far enough away that when he bends over the table only the top half of his torso touches and his feet are raised slightly so he’s kind of balancing on his toes, with his stomach and cock off the table. He has his legs spread and he’s face down. I make him hold himself slightly too far up so that his arms are taught and he has to work to keep himself stable in this position. I slowly rub his ass and admire him leaning over telling him how nice he looks, “does the position hurt?” He won’t say no, he will say yes, that he likes it. I’ll rub my hands up and down his back, his ass his thighs and he will start to get hard in anticipation, “oh really, you like that, you like being bent over for me, you enjoy letting me look at you like this?”
He will of course say yes, and then I’ll slap him and call him dirty. Watch his cock bounce, tell him I saw it, rub him a little than hit him again. Asking again if he likes this, being hit by me, being bent over. He will say yes again, I will make him look at me while I touch him. He will watch as I take him in squirming a little, beginning to feel uncomfortable with his exposure and the position. I will tell him to be still and then grab the crop. I will then ask him if he wants this, wants me to hit him, wants me to watch him squirm on my kitchen table. I will tell him he must count after each one, and he does, and I'm turned on by this point. I tell him how wet, how I like hitting him, like him. I hit his back, his thighs and ass. Continually asking if he wants this “Do you like turning me on? Do you enjoy me hitting you, exposing you?” I then tell him to grab the counter tighter, spread your legs more and I give him 5 quick whacks. I then move on to a paddle and hit him hard. I reach down bend over him with my hips to his ass, reach around, and tell him how I want him to fuck me, how I want him to make me come, I want him to give me an orgasm I want to come, and when I say that I slap his ass one more time then tug on his balls, I let him scooch down off the counter he pushes down the fabric on my nightie exposing one of my breasts and runs his hands gently down my skin, lightly touching me with his calloused gorgeous hands, his fingers long, delicate yet manly. He traces my nipple and I shudder, he places his mouth on it and kisses it, I don’t like my nipples sucked, you are not a child, you are not drawing milk, you are trying to turn me on. I like my nipples caressed, kissed, bitten, teased. He moves one hand lower, picks up my nightie rubs my thigh. I sit on the counter with one breast exposed, his hand on my inner thigh. I reach down and kiss him, he goes back to my nipple and I look over his back at the red marks I've caused, and as I'm looking at his back, he sticks one finger inside of me. Finding my clit with his thumb I close my eyes and lean back. Letting him do what he does, using both hands, one to hold me in place by the small of my back, every now and then needing me with his fingers. His other hand working my pussy as I watch his mouth kiss my nipples, I'm about to come and he holds me tighter not stopping, feeling my body twitch both inside and out. He then finally slows what he’s doing and kisses me on my neck then working up. He then says thank you and I kiss him.

Trying to get MJ to talk dirty and stop talking so sweet:

IM conversation:
Edited for brevity
MJ: I fantasize of going down on you
Me: I like that
MJ: I like that too?
Me: I do like some good dirty talk, it helps get me in the mood
MJ: I daydream about making you quiver; I think I’ve had thoughts of having sex with you in various spots of your house
kitchen counter
bathroom sink
shower
you leaned over the back of the couch
Me: lets try it!
MJ: I want to do you from behind so I can reach around and fondle you
Me: say it, touch my clit
get comfortable being dirty
Mj: touch your clit?
Me: well not like that

I guess it’s a start and we have to start somewhere. I think the more he feels comfortable the less I will bitch that he’s not meeting my needs. But as this convo says there is a long way to go. Saying things like quiver just sounds too much like loins and brings back awful memories of shitty romance novels. Not that all sex has to be dirty, but I like intensity not a soft focus lens with a soprano saxaphone in the background. But it gets better once he opens up a little…


MJ: I like sucking on your clit
Me: so much better, I want more of this, now go to bed and think of me when you masturbate
Mj: I wanna watch you play with yourself, that shit is fuckin hot. I can feel you rubbing your clit when we fuck
Me: really? where?
Mj: i have to look down, base of my dick, makes me googly eyed
Me: i didnt know that thats hot, let me know these things while were doing it
and by “it” I mean bone
and by bone I mean fuck

So it gets better so I think whatever “rut” we were in I could say is over. I still don’t know if I am 100% into him or into it, but this is a step in the right direction. I like that he took control, I deleted some lines because I didn’t think them important or good imagery, but at least he’s trying and this conversation did get me excited. I think that sex is sometimes [most of the time] psychological for me. I go for guys that are hard to get because then it’s a bigger conquest when I get them. The ante always needs to be raised, whether that’s emotional, physical, or some sort of sexual deviancy. Just getting him to talk more candidly and use less cheesy sexual euphemisms I think helps.