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Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Rapper's Delight

It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you, without a dope blog to stroke to...

Before I went off on a hella long hiatus from writing, I mentioned one of my newest friends, MC Dingaling, the rapper. He was on his way down for a visit, and I was excitedly anticipating a weekend with new dick. When he got into town, this is a brief rundown of how it went:

I love it when you call me Big Poppa...

I knew he was gonna handle me, because he's not a small guy. Not notoriously b-i-g, but big enough to slap me up, flip me and rub me down with ease. Things jumped off nicely. He went straight in, teased me with a short oral session and then commenced to beat it like he'd just gotten out of jail. Just as I would come down off of one orgasm from one position, he would put me in another position and work on the next one. After cumming a half dozen times, I rode his dick, bucking up and down on him until I returned the favor and made him O-face somethin' serious!

We took a break, and before round two began, he laid me out on the bed and picked up where he left off from the earlier oral session. Holy shit. Being a rapper and all, I already knew he had a way with his mouth, but DAYUM! He had me lifted up off of the bed and trying to run away. My toes were curling and I was calling out all sorts of deities. He sucked and tongue-fucked the hell out of my pussy, and I came in his mouth until I was ready for some more dick.

From the windows/to the walls/Til the sweat drop down my balls/Til all these bitches fall/Aww skeet, skeet, muthafucka...

I stood up to bend over onto the bed and my legs were so weak, I ended up on the floor. He told me to stay there and put me on my back in the small hallway between the closets in my bedroom. My legs were pushed up to my chest and he fucked me hard. Shit. I mean hard. I kept my eyes closed, because every time I opened them, I felt like my head was spinning. It could have been the good dick I was getting, or it could be that the blood was quickly rushing to my brain from my knee-over-head position, and I was on the verge of blacking out. Before he inadvertently knocked me unconscious, we changed positions, and got back onto the bed. Now, it was my turn.

I leaned over his lap and started sucking him off. I paced myself, because I knew that the pussy had brought him close to the edge. I alternated between sucking his dick and stopping to suck his nipples and tease him by licking his neck, chest, lips. I kept this up for a long while, until I knew he was about to cum. Then I stopped. I stopped just long enough for the sensation to go away, and then I rode his dick until he came loud and strong.

This was just the first day, but the weekend was filled with more of the same. All in all the visit was great, but things got hairy when the "R" word came up (relationship). We had both been into each other heavy leading up to the weekend, but when it was time for him to go, I came to a harsh realization.

Oh baby you/you got what I need/But she say he's just a friend/She say he's just a friend

The sex was great, and MC Dingaling is a real sweetheart to me, but I had to pump my breaks. I liked him a lot, but spending the weekend with him in my home not only afforded me with momentary live-in dick, but also the stark reality that I have absolutely no desire to share my space or my life with any one man right now. I know it may sound cold, but it is what it is. Besides, dude was also fresh out of a relationship, and there is nothing worse than a rebound gone bad.

This was, unfortunately, another whirlwind infatuation turned flop. MC Dingaling was a nice guy. Too nice. He was sweet. Too sweet. And he adored me. Too much. I'm too much of a bitch for such a nice guy. I ended up telling him this in one way or another. However, the weekend, and everything leading up to it, was great. Considering my odds, I decided it was smarter to fall back a little bit before the going got tough.

He'll survive, and he will definitely miss this pussy more than he misses me. A truth I am absolutely okay with.

Sometimes dick and a little bit of attention can knock even the best of us off our game. Ever had to check yourself after getting your signals crossed?

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Bathroom Break

If I tell you to go to the bathroom right now. To place your hand between your legs, and touch yourself there. To call me as you do it. Imagine me there too, against the wall. Will you? And moan for me?
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You want me to?
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Will you?
You want me to?
Tell me.
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Go.
Call me when you are wet, panting and on the edge.
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Short of breath. At the table. Sucking on an artichoke.
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Go.
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Sucking. The artichoke. Imagining you in my mouth.
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Go.
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Tell me.what to do.
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What are you wearing?
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I'm wearing the white shirt you first kissed me in. It still smells like you. And jeans. As usual.
White bra...with lace....that your hands are always in. Lately.
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I want you to take the palm of your hand. The space where you palm connects with your wrist and brush it discretely across your nipples. Feel it through your shirt and the white lace of your bra. Feel me.

Your hand, beneath the table. Between your legs. The roughness of the denim against the softness of you there, fullness. And imagine me. Feel me. My hands. My breath on your neck. My panting.

And when the feel of me there is too much. When you are too full, too wet, too sweet. Excuse yourself from the table, go to the bathroom and call me.
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Here....red room. Locked door. The waiter I passed by has no idea. Oh. Men. Tell me.
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Your hands. Beneath your shirt.
Your fingers, teasing the tip of those divine nipples. Twirling then tight. The way you like it.
The button of your jeans open. Your hand, fingers teasing. Through the fabric of your underwear.
You should be short of breath and panting sweetly now.
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Tell me.
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Your fingers, between your lips suckling. And wet then touching yourself there. Inside the fabric. Between the folds. Wet. Full. Wanting.
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Here....in the bathroom....it's freezing. I've been gone too long. I touch ................ feel you. Taste.....like me though.
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Shall I talk you through. Do you need me? In your ear?
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Wet. Silky folds. Deep breath. Rocking.
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Run your hands across. Back and forth with the sway of your hips. Imagine me there. My hands. My hips. Rocking against yours.
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Yesssssssss....
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Ever find yourself against the cold door of a bathroom stall? in a crowded restaurant? melting?

-- Post From My iPhone