It’s possible I am scared, numbed, and a bit stuck– in this search for love and cock.

I honestly still seem to be processing life’s recent events, even though they are not exactly recent any longer. I don’t feel as though I properly processed the death of my friend, because I don’t have the right person in my life to let me process the sadness that has come with his death. Alone and with friends I’ve cried– but not with a lover. There is a different sort of letting go that can occur between cock and cunt who are both there for each other.

That full release from an orgasm induced by being filled with tongue, fingers and cock of man I love enough to let go with. A solid true cum — the kind where my cunt is puffed and dripping– and my little clit becomes not so little anymore, when everything throbs electric– and I and my thoughts are no longer– and we become- the we. It is in these moments when I can let it all go, allow my pussy to flow and melt on your fist or your face, which ever happens to be there.

This doesn’t have to be the one true love, but just one I can love then and there and who will love me back. The understanding and empathy between two people who will let all of the rest of life wash away– if only for those moments.

These moments of love and cock refuge in life always remind me of the poem by Charles Mingus–

Nice Of You To Have Come To My Funeral.
…
Oh damn it all blues.
Screwed to the melting frozen walk of dared-to-embrace stone,
concrete hard, imagined soft
only to overdue erections of loneliness
that turned feminine and speaks back wet, warm tears,
not to far removed from its common denominator,
Iced urine melting at dared hot death
That clings to life for love at thought of some response
Be it only the clay, dirt or pavement I behold in my
drunken, fevered search for a true woman’s groin,
Wanting me as I want her to never hate me
because we found refuge of satisfaction as two drunken stones
warmed themselves side by side
In outside our guttered ideas of opposite sides fucking.

The past seasons of loss– that spring love that walked out the door, summers death and the winters hibernation has got to come to an end. It is time for some travel! You know how much I like to travel and fuck. Vacation sex is freeing– I can let go with ease, it’s comforting and provides the allotted time that this pussy is in need of. It means my kitty is about to get licked every day for many hours and that makes me very happy. Lickety lick lick lick it all away,please… and I too will do the same.

Philadelphia and certain Mr. Fox lay in wait for this Vixen– for love and cock, if only for a moment.

NYC was a great lover– generous, a good mix of tender and beastly, an excellent pussy worshiper, ate good food, drank good booze and smoked good weed. I loved NYC– I would not have felt the heartbreak if I hadn’t. It’s hard to pinpoint what led to our demise, but I would say it was his wife, the other man I fell in love with and our combined jealousy and needs that in the end did not get met like we wanted.


Our last day together is a memory burned into the archives of my mind. Sitting across from him in a window seat, watching the Lower East Side pass by, it was wet and gray, winter– looking at you I could not stop the tears from flowing, it was there that I realized my affair with NYC was as much a love affair with the city as it was with the man. I really do love that city.


That all being said, I would sure like to get another fuckation man who lives in NYC. I like the idea of bi-costal fucking.

So, NYC men– let’s get into some bi-costal fucking, there is nothing else like meeting someone you have only met online then flying across the country to romp around with them for week. The anticipation and energy is amazing, scary, and could lead to many memories you are  better for having than not.

Applications are now being accepted.

Don’t look for me at the Library for a few days. I have plans. Juicy, wet, filthy, naughty plans.

You won’t find me in the stacks, you won’t find me assisting patrons with their informational needs. No, no, no. Not this week.

NYC comes to SF. Coast to coast fuck mashup.

A nice long long weekend of fucking, sucking, eating, drinking, and a lot more fucking.

First a blow job at the Ocean. That sounds like a perfect West Coast good morning greeting.

Then on to the fucking. I’ll be sure to tell you all about it.

I am catching a way too early, especially for a Vixen, flight to Chicago this morning.

Yup–going to go fuck some more of that rock solid cock I had during my sexcation.

This move is unlike me, I don’t really drop everything and go off and leave the West Coast for the frigid Mid-West for just any man. But–the offer was too good to pass. Three days of solid hotel cock, rest, relaxation and whole lot of bucking, fucking and grinding–plus a hot tub and pool.

Generous Chicago man wants some more librarian pussy and I want some more Chicago style sausage. I am excited for his hard cock to invade all spaces, traces, tight little buds ready to open to his pounding throb. My good nature librarian type left behind for my other woman–the one who likes to have her neck throttled a little, the one who likes to be choked on cock. You know the one– that woman who wants her tightest space to be opened–taken, the one who wants to feel all that hot cum land across her body–her face–lick it off your finger tips as it drips down from cock and digits. That sexy bitch who comes and comes while grinding on your cock.  And the one who secretly like to be told what to do.

I had not anticipated even going back to Chicago. In situations like that/this,  I am sort of that one time kind of woman–but I am also not one to pass up the opportunity for hotel action. I do not really plan on doing too much, if any, tourist type stuff–just fucking, eating and sleeping. Big, BIG vixen smile.

I am packed, I am only bringing one pair of clothing, I don’t plan on wearing cloths too often. In my bag I have  more bathing suits than actual cloths. Of course– I have packed sexy gear…scarves- for tying-blindfolding-gagging, garters with clips, stockings, frilly panties to be yanked aside so your cock can plunge into my soak, and of course–the reason the bag is so heavy–some fun fun toys. Oh, and two cameras–as I’m sure there will be Kodak moments.