Horny and Self-Pleasuring

I'm HORNY.

I'm in the office today and need another hour or so to wrap things up. All I can think about is how sweet my pussy will feel when my partner stuffs his man-meat into it. The mere thought of this is causing my pussy to contract. Through my denim pants, I can feel the heat and moistness of my vagina. I smell the scent my pussy is giving off - it's a sweet, "come get it" scent. I stick my hand in my pants, lightly stroking my vaginal lips before I stick my index finger slightly into my hole. *AhhhhhAAAAAAhhhhhhhh* I moan and gyrate before removing my finger so that I can inhale my scent before tasting my juices. *slurp*

My hips and lower body are contracting uncontrollably - imitating my movements from last night as I sat on his lap before sitting on his face. On his lap, we were truly one. It was impossible to tell where we individually begun and ended. His man-meat was buried deep inside my treasure - consumed. I bounced up and down at first slowly then quickly and roughly. I punished my pussy as I slammed onto his cock over and over and over again. Even tonight, more than 16 hours later, I can feel the imprint he left.

I'm trying to save it all for him but I don't know if I'm going to make it. My pussy is calling and the rest of my body is responding including my lips that were just sucking on my titties and my index finger that is about to make another trip down south.

Ever been so horny, you didn't think you would make it??

-Hornily written on my iPhone between self-pleasure episodes

The Anatomy of O

My favorite pocket rocket is a royal blue one that I've abused quite a bit. Today the batteries are about mid level. Not an aggressive vibration but a steady and effective hum. I'm wearing socks but otherwise naked from the waist down with a thermal blanket wrapped around my legs.

It's chilly in the guest bedroom. And my nipples are responding appropriately. At about 75% hardness they are perhaps half an inch tall and wide. I've discovered over time the teasing hum of the rocket rubbed just over my clit and outer lips makes me wet enough so I'm ready to 'take' the purple vibrator (V), leaving little rivers leaking down my cheeks.

My chest is hot as I stroke myself. My stomach is beginning to clench...anticipation...wanting.

Slowly at first I guide V in circling my clit with the rocket. I can feel the tension building. As I clench around V easing towards the spot. Every forward movement results in a tremor. Circling around and around...teasing

Breaths are shallow now...1
Goosebumps all over
2, ohhhhhh..haaaaaaa

3 times already...as deep as...V can go...
4....my toes are tingling
5...wooooooo

It's like a pulse...with each stroke...a hot pulse...warm...and then warmer...a pause as the hand returns then warm again
6 it builds..tingles brushing my toes with warmth....tension deep inside...
The teasing makes me giggle nervously.

I'm wanting but anxious of more.
But I'm a bit...greedy...and so

7 begins in the back. From my gspot forward then up my legs and deep deep below...panting
Moaning...begging really low....8
9 tumbled forward...warm
There is still more...if I want...

Once it starts it can just keep...going
Oh....again...wooooooo
10 at last is cold and hot...breasts heavy and peaked.
Body curled and shivering.
Sleepy...now

What's your "perfect 10"?

-- Post From My iPhone

The me that is she...

Don't you wonder sometimes, did you ever wonder how it is possible to want both at once?

For one to have nothing to do with the other?

For each to be uniquely powerful? Deep?

But for the wanting and ache for one to sometimes be more moving than the other? If only because it is always softer, sweeter, slower...

There is nothing about wanting a woman that means I don't want

him. Nothing which makes that less than....what it is. But there is something about wanting...really needing a woman...in company of spirit and body that is completely and utterly different....that is open and willing and I suppose like the wanting of him for me in the quiet moments...the gentle languid moments..when we savour.

Perhaps this is why a purely physical connection with a woman leaves me wanting...if that is all it is...

There is perhaps little time in those hurried moments to reflect on the soft curve of a back, the deep indent and sweep of a collar bone, the fullness of the back...of her...the sweetness of lips tugged by teeth tongue peaking in between...to savour...the me that is she and somehow more wonderous.

Sometimes when he looks at me in reverence and wonder...when he traces his fingers along my inner thigh, lays his face on the fullness of my breasts or rubs his nose against my cheekbones, sometimes when he just lays...with me...I feel the tug that he feels and know it is the same...when I'm with her.

There is something special and tender and delicious between us...women...always.

When exacted with purpose and calculated skill...when measured and slow...when frantic and panting...

It is always there..in the softness of our bodies...the memory of our fingers...

when we savour...

Rush Hour

It was 7:15am and like every other morning she rushed down the crowded station steps toward the platform where she would await her train to work. The jacket of her business suit flattered every curve. She moved in and out of the crowd in her 3.5 inch stilettos as if they were Cross Trainers. A pro at this, she'd been making this commute every morning for the past 3 years, ever since she'd been hired as an Executive Assistant at the record label. This was her routine and even though some people would get frustrated with the monotony of it all, it never seemed to get old to her.

She positioned herself on the platform in the precise spot where the door would open directly in front of her and started to go over her schedule for the day in her head. She knew it was going to be a long day, with back to back meetings and then a PR event to attend in the evening. She was making mental notes, wanting to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything at home, when she saw the headlights of the train coming toward her. As the crowd started to move in closer to the yellow line she patiently waited for the train to stop and then then when it did--right where she knew it would--she stepped on. It seemed every single person around her was moving - rushed and frantic. She hated starting her day that way because once she got to work all opportunity for peace of mind was out the window. It was much easier to start the day in the same way that she hoped to end it. So while everyone else hustled she sashayed onto the train as if a red carpet was under her feet.

The doors began to close, a hundred people filling the hot train car. It seemed more crowded than usual this morning. People were packed shoulder to shoulder. Even though she got on first, she held on to the pole closest to the door so that she could be one of the first to exit when she reached her stop about 15 minutes later. Just as the door was about to shut all the way an arm reached in to hold it open and he got on.

He must have been running late this morning because he was usually waiting near her when the train stopped to pick them up. He was tall, dark, and way past handsome. He had hazel brown eyes and his salt and pepper hair was always lined up perfectly. She guessed he must have be in his mid 40's. They'd never spoken but the conversations they had between each other with their eyes spoke volumes. He looked at her as soon as he stepped on the train. People shifted inch by inch to try to fit him in and once the door was closed and the train was pulling off, he managed to position himself between her and an elderly woman who'd been left to stand while a group of teenagers occupied the seats across the aisle. The train left and more people got on at the first stop than got off. Before they reached the 3rd stop she could feel his breath on the back of her neck. He was easily 3 inches taller than her, but with her 4 inch Prada heels they were nearly cheek to cheek. The train was too packed for her to turn to reposition herself so she just stood still and waited. Stop number 6. She could feel his knee graze the back of her left leg every time the train wobbled. She'd decided not to wear stockings this morning with her skirt so there was no barrier. She felt herself being turned on by the contact of the material of his designer suit. The train shook and she could feel that he had shifted his body until it was almost directly behind hers. The train was still so crowded no one paid any attention to the fact that they were so close. She held on to the pole in front of her and tried to stay as still as possible so that her body did not move against his. He had another agenda. He'd been holding the strap above him but at the next stop moved his hand to her pole right above her hand. His hand touched hers and waves of electricity flowed through her body. T he train passed through a tunnel and the lights in the hot car flickered off. They remained off for about 45 seconds. She used the opportunity to shift a little as she could feel moistness building between her legs. As she moved, she felt him press his body against hers. She could feel his hard dick pressing against her ample ass. She knew it was intentional on his part and she didn't bother to move. She wanted to do more than feel his cock on the back of her skirt. Her pussy was wet and juices were already seeping through the thin material of the g-string she was wearing. She closed her eyes and held on to the pole tighter. She felt a hand creeping up the inside of her thigh and her knees almost buckled. No one noticed, as the lights came back on, that he had his hand up her skirt and was slowly caressing the wet lips of her pussy. She kept her eyes closed, careful not to move, careful not to change her facial expression. He stood closer behind her and dipped his fingers in and out of her tight cunt. When he massaged his thumb deep into her vagina walls and used his middle finger to rub her clit she couldn't take it anymore. The train jerked and she was pulled away from him as her pussy throbbed and she came right there, one stop before she was to exit. She didnt turn around to look at him. She could still feel his breathing on the back of her neck but he had stepped away far enough that she could no longer feel his body against hers. As the train came to a halt she straightened up the material of her skirt and rushed off toward the steps leading up to the street where she worked. She could only hope tomorrow's train ride would be as exciting.

Do you have fantasies of sex "in motion"?

Laundry Day

I've really got to invest in a mattress pad. Really.

I came to this realization while standing over my messy sheets after Mr. Boombastic had thrashed my ass, yet again. I stripped the bed and smirked to myself as only a few weeks before, I had thought of squirting as some realm of reality that I may never reach. But I had. This fucker had indeed found a direct route to my pleasure spot and he was skillful enough to know when to put it to work and how much.

Tonight, he had spent quite some time building me up, priming me for the main event. It began with a foot massage, I started melting almost immediately as his strong hands moved up my legs mashing and groping masterfully. He knew he had loosened me up, so the next place he massaged was between my legs. My heart began racing immediately. He reached under my dress and into my panties and pressed first his palm, then finger into my already wet pussy.

He had me on my poor sofa, writhing and moaning, while he was knuckles deep inside me. I bucked against his hand and placed my hand on top of his, trying to pull his finger out and catch my breath. He didn't allow it, pressing into my g-spot harder and reaching up with the other hand to squeeze my nipple for good measure. I reached over to feel his dick, which he had just barely removed from his pants. About 1/3 of his dick was sticking out of the top of his boxers and I decided to tease him, as he had teased me.

I straddled his lap and started to kiss and lick his ears. Meanwhile, I whined my hips against him, rubbing my clit across his dickhead with each grind. I bucked and rotated my hips as if he were inside me, and ended up getting just as turned on as he was (if not more) by the feeling of my clit rubbing against him. I felt an orgasm coming, and I started to grind harder and move my hips faster. I leaned into his ear and told him I was cumming. Then I bounced on him harder when I did. It was time to take this party to the bedroom.

As soon as he laid on the bed, I took his dick into my mouth. I was primed up and horny as a muthafucker, no time for the preliminary bullshit. His dick went from almost to 100% hard once I put my soft lips on it. I licked and slurped the head, then used both my hands to stroke it up and down while I sucked the head. After a while of torturing him with excellent head, he told me to lay on my stomach. I knew what was coming next. He mounted me from behind and pushed his huge dick into me. Just as I got adjusted to him stretching me. He reached around under me and put his hands on my clit. Flicking and pressing it as he started to fuck me from behind. I was in heaven. I'm sure my neighbors were in hell. I was cumming every few minutes and loud as a muthafucker. Shit.

He kept commenting on how wet I was, but we didn't realize really how wet until we were done and I stepped away from the bed and looked down. There were three huge wet spots, much larger than your average spot. Thank goodness there were two layers of sheets. It looks like Mr. Boombastic made it rain again. Sigh. I guess tomorrow will be laundry day.


Have you ever had someone make you cum so hard, you were beside yourself?