That flutter of anticipation filled us, almost like children, we nearly ran to the elevator, past the bar– not even stopping for a drink. Seeming to chase  glimpses of something “pure”, moments of something– a love affair perhaps– I’m not sure really, other than it felt genuine, and it felt pure. These moments of “pure” have been on my mind frequently these days.

There may have been some awkwardness– because, even though I’m in your hotel room, even after you professed us to be soul mates– I still was not convinced on staying. Inside your tiny room- I began to inspect for this so called “view” I just had to see. Viewing prelude.

How could I be thinking of fucking this man– in my cynical nature– I could already see the “pure” threaded with the tragic– as it often is with sex. Plus I was so unprepared– unkempt legs and kitty, fading and chipped nail polished toes, still in the same work cloths I’d been in all day,  on my period and did not bring even one little sex toy or condoms. I had no buisness fucking in such a state.

But– there is always a but-- always an exception to make for the right person, for moments of pure–despite the tragedy that comes along for the ride. Sometimes you can’t tell if it’s the right person to make an exception for– until you fuck them.

Leaning over the desk to look at the view of the cinder blocked architecture and silver hued rooftops of the adjoining buildings– you come in from behind– your cock firm already nudging into my skirt covered ass cheeks, your arms and hands clasping my full tits. Even in my civil service girl bra- hard and utilitarian– I could feel my nipples harden. Then your lips, breath, and whisper on the back of my neck. That was it, all I needed. Electric from neck, through spine, to cunt.

Tilting my ear toward your lips– I want your breath and words. Flushed.

I stop your kisses and hands, telling you before it goes any further that I’m on my period. It matters not to you– and therefore not to me.

From that point on the evening was blur– I felt high, though I was unbelievably sober–  my normal exacting details are not in my mind. The night became a tangle of tightening and straining of limbs, breaths heavy with inhale and exhale. Our mouths, lips and hands clawing for a freedom and acceptance–cock to cunt in search of one another.

I love that moment of first discovering your cock. What sweet treat will I find to work with? I like to linger before getting to full exposure, take me time feeling you get hard in my hands, wrapping the soft red fabric of the boxers around your branch– defining your cock. Big hungry smile. Happily I dive in, I want to compose to memory as much of your cock as I can in this short time.

It doesn’t take long before my mouth and hand discovers how to make you throb and jump- a swirl of my tongue around the tip, slow slide with my mouth– keeping you inside my throat– then back up. A heavy sigh of release escapes when I filled my mouth with your balls, stroking your shaft with slow concentration. Memorization. Filing those moments away– of what it feels like when you want to cum– for when I am ready for you fill my mouth with cum.

I want to cum first and I do, twice.

Your generous mouth, tongue and fingers bring my unprepared kitty so close– generally I am an easy cum– but on my period and with a new man– it took some work and a lot of licking– once that first one was released though– I felt like I was having mini orgasms the rest of the night– including one induced just by sweet filth whispered into my ear– electric. And one leaving my pussy convulsing and soaking around your fingers– pulled from me  and on to you.

Back and forth we tangle, wrestling our mouths to groin and the pages between. I need to feel you inside of me, I want to feel my pussy throb around you– more than anything I just need to feel you filling me and not leaving, not moving– just filling me. A wave of wanting to express love– or something like it — rushes over me– and it’s pure– and I don’t have words for it.

The entire night was– fucking, sucking, stroking– dozing and then our coming back to each other. Finding your cock in the night hard and soft simultaneously– your skin feeling velvety as I softly stroke you. Both of us lost in a sleep sex daze as I take you in my mouth– loving you the only way I can– I did– love you, love your cock. Inducing you to cum with my love- my mouth surrounding you, my tits squeezing your shaft bringing cum spurting out — filling my mouth and spilling out onto my tits. I lick your flavor up and we drift back asleep.

Night continues to morning, our bodies and mouths remained in constant entanglement until the end.

Leaving memories behind– a nice bruise on my thigh and tender bottom from a series swats a barely recall. Lingering memories tangled.

One thing about just not playing the game is one doesn’t have to suffer from the rejection. One of these days I am just gonna stop caring about getting laid, about falling in love, about all of it.

My long weekend ended already and not with a bang.

It was just not meant to be, no even for a long weekend.

Even though there was a lovely slow lingering blow job– which culminated in a sweet cum between my tits followed by a much needed orgasim for me at the hands of another. When morning came it was different I wanted more, he did not– it was not me he had his mind on, or it could have been just straight up buyers remorse. Regardless of what it was– I left early this morning– fighting back those familiar tears of rejection and impending aloneness.

Although maybe I’m just sad because my Instagram account was deleted, for once again, TOS violations. It could be the Facebook acquisition that put me over the edge, but I was pretty tame on this site– I loved the intimacy and connection made with people, catching glimpses of someone else’s life. It is a good reminder to back your images up– about a ¼ of the way through using instagram I connected it to Dropbox, so every shot was saved, but those first few 100 shots are not and are now gone as is all of the shots I “liked” and comments left and made. On ZD Ned- Violet Blue offers alternatives to IG and backup method– do it now before your account is deleted.

It was probably the image of the man and woman in the bathtub from the book Where Did I Come From that put me over the edge. Fuck– I loved Instagram– now I really am going to cry.

Going back to bed.

Because of our distance, we decide to meet at a half way point and then take one car our secret hot springs destination. I love road trips with you, I like riding, not driving, not making the decisions, in your hands all the way- plus it gives me the freedom to be naughty as I want to be. The remaining hour and a half drive I let my mind and mouth wander- teasing you with words, kisses and filthy whispers into your ear. My hands perpetually finding their way into your lap, to your branch- I want to make you hard, I want to torture you and make you pull the car over and punish me for distracting you while driving, while I try to make you fuck me right then and there on the side of the road, but you make me behave, you make me wait.

The hot springs is empty, a few random naked bodies, but for the most part the place is all ours. We get our room, unwind, pour those glasses of good Cali wine, slowly disrobe. From behind you- my breast  grazing against your back- I lower for a whisper and kiss in your ear, letting my hands float across your chest, down your belly to your branch, lightly stroking and sliding my fingers along your shaft– just teasing the length of you.

“Should we go soak? or shall I continue?”

Grabbing my hands with a firm grasp, you pull me in, mashing my tits into your back, clasping tighter around my wrists– a clasp just tight enough to make my pussy pulse–

“You’re going to have to wait dirty girl, lets go soak.”

I love and hate it when you make me wait. I break free from the grasp, I let my hands drop around your cock for few more strokes before we head out, making sure you are a solid rock– if you won’t fuck me now,  I want to make sure you are sufficiently worked up. We robe up, drink up and hit the baths. The soak takes away the drive, the day, the weeks– and leaves just you and I. We shift around in the private bath spring letting our bodies adjust to the heat and to each other, we sink into one anther and drift.

Post soak we seem to float back to our room, I pour us another glass of wine. On the bed you lay back, head propped with the mountain of pillows, your eyes half open, your muscular calves and thighs peek our from the split in your robe. Looking at you makes me drift into how wonderful that sweet cock of yours is going to feel. Starting at your feet I work my up, a nice slow massage, working each joint and muscle, feeling the strength of you legs even while relaxed. Up to your thighs my hands explore what I’ve been missing, your cock begins that slow transition from relaxed, soft and small to become meat, growing more than looks possible, the softness turning to density. Your robe falls open exposing the entire length of your body, me inbetween your legs continuing my slow massage upward towards your cock, that is now heavy, and I stroke my fingertips across the soft skin, watching the creases disappear with girth, my hands find you well and you know how much I love giving a slow SLOW hand job, no hurry, no rush, no demands, just knowing your cock and balls.

Alternating between my mouth and my hands, your are right where I want you now– a solid rock of a trunk, your big tip forming those clear drops that I massage in with my thumb around the head, causing you sigh.

In what has become almost a beg I whisper into the room,

“I need it now, I can’t wait.”

Grabbing at the base of your cock, your big hand cupping your balls, your thumb and finger in the form of a cock ring around the base– you squeeze and your cock becomes even bigger.

“Such a greedy girl, you want this cock.”

Licking my lips I nod eagerly and and begin my ascent, straddling, you rub that big throbbing head into my puffy lips, instantly making my clit pop, and I’ve been wet for hours so I more than ready to sink my cunt down and swallow every bit of you.

It only happens with a cock I know, and whose cock knows me and there is generally a build up– a tease. This was a tease that lasted all day, well really when I think about, it it has been a tease that has been going on for months, years even.

I know the moment you your cock touches my junction that I could orgasm from that first insertion into me. You’ve teased me properly between my legs and between my ears….and I am more than ready for that cock. Sliding it all over my pussy, inching it in slowly– no thrusting, just a slow fill. I drop my hips, my pussy dreamily and deliberately as possible, I want to feel every inch deep inside of me.  Feeling from the inside out, my organs clinching, my abdomen pulling in, my body trying to grab your cock, but I stay slow as I sink down. Filling, full… that feeling absorbs me, takes over and consumes my whole body starting from my cunt and deep into my belly— this guttural moan is deeply exhaled into the room- my animal sound. You, are buried into me as far as possible and I want more.

I sit up straighter atop of you and  start squeezing your cock, and I can feel it, the orgasm rising, squeezing and squeezing– oh god it just makes me crazy and  feels amazing– a wild and deep orgasm that surrounds your cock and makes want to fuck you more. But- I refrain from any grinding and let this concentrated orgasm run through me without either of us barely moving.
Expressions of  love leak out of my mouth…

“I love your cock, so fucking good.”

Sighs and moans, words no longer decipherable spill and I come– clinching with all of me surrounding your cock– this cock that I’ve missed so much. No griding, no pounding, just filling.

The knock came late with an urgency that scared me from my stoned out slumber.
“Who is it?”
Nothing, no response. I knew who it was. I could hear his nervous hands fumbling with the screen door. Almost simultaneously his fingers clasped the doorknob as I twisted the lock to open pushing the door open, perhaps more abruptly than you anticipated. I could see the agitation, revulsion and want in every part of your being.

I spent my weekend, hell a week, doing just that, worshiping like a cock sucking devotee. Most of of my time spent with my mouth turning him from soft to hard, edging him close, then backing off. When his cock was not passing my lips, I was wishing it was–all I could think of was tasting his come slide down my throat, splashing across my tongue and making a mess of my promiscuous slut girl face. I almost, almost, had little concern for my own gratification, his cock seemed gratification enough. Lucky me though–he took care of me just fine.

There are moments with this man, when time comes to a stop–or when it spans beyond what I know as time. For the most part I am an eye closer or at least they drop to slits when fucking, and especially when getting close to cumming–but with him it is different. When my head tilts back my eyes are still on his and when his cock enters me our eyes lock and I can see this barely there strand–silver and clear that shimmers slightly in the flicker of the light– that connects from his retina to mine. The power of it all is really quite strange, wonderful and overwhelming.

And yet while I feel this insane closeness and connection to this man, it also seems like he will only be a moment. I think he is a bird. Not able to resist flight, but too habitual to fly off forever into a life with me. So…while I feel strongly about this man, I have been trying to keep in mind my New Year’s vow– to “let it be.” To let myself enjoy while I can, to love him when I can, freely and to accept him and his cock as a rare gift–that was perhaps not supposed to be given to me at this this time, or even not at, but somehow a rift in nature made the exception possible.

Languidly playing on my bed, rubbing, touching, looking, attempting to find some form of understanding–that we will never understand anyway, we talk causally and free.

Lackadaisically the words roll out of my mouth, “Have you ever fucked a girl in the ass?”

“No, I’ve tried, but it never did work. A few women said sure fuck me in the ass, but when it came right down to it…the pain was too much, my cock was too big.”

I thought out loud, “I would never say you could fuck me in the ass, not with that cock.”

We laughed and played some more.  I guess a seed had been planted and I was now thinking about my ass, “Why don’t you slip a finger in my ass.”

Drawing his finger to my mouth to coat it with spit then back down he slowly slid it into my ass, as he did so I could feel my pussy opening, breathing, wanting more. I love how my cunt feels when a finger or more is filling my ass. It is not the sensation I feel in my ass, but the sensation that my pussy feels from something being in my ass.

Soon I am slow grinding on his finger, and my fingers and his slip around my ever slicking pussy, my clit grows firm and tall, and I want more. Between my thighs he stands, I reach for his hard cock, and guide it to my pussy, sliding it around in the folds of fat flesh, coating it with me, then I slide it in and we fuck for a bit, while he continues working his finger my ass. I could’ve come like that, but I wanted more. I began to guide his pussy covered cock to my tight ass hole, first the head.

“Slow,” the words push out in a heavy breath, and we switch gears into slow motion and our eyes lock, between breaths of pain and lust,  his cock begins to fill me, and my greedy pussy is loving it, growing, blooming, wanting more and more.

It took time, the connection was strong, it made it possible for his big cock to fill my tight ass. Everything worked, soon his cock was fully inside me, and soon after that I was thoroughly enjoying riding his cock, bucking my ass into him.

My pussy was electric, on fire, full and slicked out. It always astounds me when it gets like that. I could feel my come approaching, I could see his come taking over his body.

“I wanna come, baby, oh can I cum, cum with me.”  I probably mumbled some lovely filth about filling my ass with cum.

And we fucked and bucked into each others bodies, our eyes penetrating, my ass full and pussy in sever fluctuation–breathing on her own, alive and wet and full of want.

In a rare moment we come simultaneously, locked into each other, that strand connecting our eyes, the connection of cock to ass, he filling me and me open to all of it.

Well the bullshit side of my tree seems to be bearing an overabundance of shit fruit since the onset of 2011, nothing life crushing– just simple annoying costly bullshit. It’s all made me just an angsty bundle of nerves, in which there was only one cure. Cock.

Well, not just cock, but I wanted–no needed– to come at the hands of another. I needed the hands and mouth of a man devouring my cunt, I needed to devour some cock, I needed to just forget the bullshit branch of life for a few hours.

I get into this mood often, but do not always act on it–or at least not as much as I used to, but the feeling was too overwhelming for me to ignore.

There were drinks, there was an incredibly cooked meal–which lead to a whole lot of sucking and fucking. It is not always easy for me to let myself just go, to let someone I’ve only emailed and briefly met take me, to pass the threshold of letting go. To give over to orgasm at the hands of a stranger is not always something I can do. However; I came in with little expectations, just simply that if I felt a comfort enough to fuck this man I was going to do just that. I would let myself have this, let myself go, be free to cum at the hands of this man who means nothing to me other than the flesh, fingers and mouth that was going to make me come and I would reciprocate and treat his cock like it was the cock I really loved.

While rolling around this mans room, I could not help thinking about the men I actually have emotional connection to–while I attempt to make a connection with this guy, I am fully aware we are nothing but disconnected. I have to be disconnected to have sex like this and to allow myself to cum, and cum, and cum with a man I have no feeling for.

The sex was fun! I allowed myself have fun. I let him suck and lick my wet little pussy, his fingers filling and fucking me, I became lost as I bucked into his hand. As his fingers fucked me harder I could feel it happening, the creamy liquid dripping around his hand, into the crevices of my pussy and in between my ass cheeks. He certainly held some effective methods to make me cum, which I did all over his bed. I am not really squirter, really I’m not, at least not usually, especially with a near completely stranger.

That sort of cum makes me want to cry, it is a release of so much–particularly with the weeks I have been having. I wanted to cry, but I didn’t– I held back. It would have felt good, but the connection for such behavior was not there. I turned on my own emotion and became a slut, a whore. I devoured his cock with my mouth and with my pussy-I licked and swallowed his dick after he buried in my slit, tasting me off of him. I made him rock hard, bouncing on his cock like crazy, I let my emotion get stifled by cock.

His cock was fun to service though. Never before have I had the request to bite down.
“Bite? Really?”
“ Yes, bite,” he pleaded with a growl.
He liked to have his cock bitten. It was strange, but then I got into it. It definitely felt like I was biting into a sausage with a real tough skin, but hot damn it sure did make his cock solid and left me free to grasp and grab him with all my might, which I did. I like a dick I can grab onto firmly as edge him closer and closer to cumming. My mouth and hands slid all over his solid trunk, I filled my mouth with his balls, I let him feed me his cock, to choke me a little, to let my eyes water.  I sucked him off like the pro I can be.

We had a nice long romp, I informed him early on– I would need to cum three times before he did. I came four times. Throughout the romp I brought this man close to cumming several times, then backed off. Repeat. Being spent from all that orgasm release, laying to his side, I slid his cock into my mouth one last time–bringing him from soft to hard–it was time. I would not ride his cock again, I cannot be filled with cum and all of its potentiality so I wanted to stroke and suck him until I could watch his cum hit me in the face and onto my waiting tongue.

Perhaps it was all the edging, bringing him so close, but not ever over, that made his cum shoot straight past my eager slut tongue up to his chest, across his shoulder and to pillow behind his head.

With the cum splatter, it was all over. Dipping my finger into a little pool of cum, I tasted him, then rose to dress. As I walked down his stairway towards my car, I never looked back. I felt like a hooker that didn’t get paid. Disconnected.

Standing in front of my door like awkward kids waiting for our first kiss, I am determined to get you inside, to take whatever this is to the next level. Unlocking the door, you lean in for your ever steady kiss on the cheek and goodbye. All sorts of one liners, sultry come-ons run through my mind as I think of way s to get you inside, but only one lonely shaking word stammers from my lips as I pull you by the hand through my door.

“Stay.”

Shutting the city out we are in my world, my refuge and the outside no longer exists–the fuck ups and degenerates that make up my day at the public library fade away and we stand there looking at each other, still in our coats and hats, not knowing what to do next. Can friends fuck? I put your arms around my waist and look up, you are quite taller than me–it’s nice, the nervousness is electric and we kiss– simple, warm and wet. Those full lips I have  spent hours day dreaming about are finally kissing mine. It is all very innocent, the sweetest of kisses I’ve had in a long time. The kind of kiss that makes you feel young and hopeful of what’s to come.

Coats drop to the floor as we stumble through the living room to my bedroom shedding articles of clothing along the way. We fall to the bed partially clothed and we just lay there, feeling the other, exploring the lengths of our bodies, our limbs tangling, our lips connecting and disconnecting, smiling the whole time–laughing at our child like behavior or emotion I am not sure which.

I can feel the strength of your body resonating from your solid thighs, your pants still on as my hands explore what the running does to you. My hand finally to your cock, feeling the stiffness through the denim, feeling how hard I made you and happy knowing from feel–how big your cock really is. With my thumb and fingers I massage the tip  until a drop of pre cum absorbs through your pants. The moment I feel that moisture I’m hungry. I take over, my hands and mouth take over, getting your pants half down, my mouth moves from your lips to your cock. Licking at that sweet and salty mix makes me forget everything except for the thoughts of pleasing you with all I have, for having all of you in me.

The taste of you fills my mouth like sweetest of pleasures, the best drinks I ever tasted, your smile made me high and suck you even more. Between your thighs I fuck you with my lips, tongue and mouth. I wanted to taste your cum.

But you had something a bit different in mind…

Santa Baby–bring me some cock NOW!

I have been crazy writing and not one word about getting fucked–though I have not getting fucked to write about anyway. Of course–I always take care of myself, but I have not even had the time to do myself properly either. All my cums have been fast, down and dirty, quickies with the most powerful iconic utilitarian vibrator I own.

I have been surprised at how wet and sloppy my pussy has been getting. I think it is the build up, this lack of time has put me on a schedule of when I masturbate. So that by the time the 2 AM I need cum time rolled around each night my cunt was growling, had grown fat and would leak all over the chair. Perhaps I am in heat. Perhaps I need some meat. Perhaps somebody needs to come lick this mess up.

Of course I would love to do the same for you. It has been nearly two weeks since I had your cock in mouth. I certainly have been missing that feel of your thick branch being stroked by my hand–making the soft flesh turn to hardness for my mouth, for my cunt. There is just about nothing I wouldn’t do to feel you sliding into me, letting me ride you–covering that fat cock of yours in this wet messy pussy.

Get over her, now!

He met me at my place. I made him wait while I showered the library away. The water extra hot turned my skin pink. I wanted to stay in there forever, not knowing what I wanted to say to him. I know what he wanted, but what does he really want from me–and can I afford to give it to him. I’m quite sure he knows my weakness. Cock.  He knows I cannot resist his cock, the way it turns thick with just a look, the smell, the curve that stretches towards my lips.

There is fracture between us though–but of course the slut I am, let him in. I get this feeling, particularly when coming off the high of cock–the low side– that it is really is like the elation of drugs and the lows that come with them. I cannot resist–and I hate my cunt for its insatiable wantonness–I want it desperately, I want to be used, I want to feel, I want to be taken, I want it all to be erased.

We are awkward, we are not the same people we were before NYC, we fumbled with words, glance, smiles made uneasy, and touched tinged with the pain of being human. We are children, emotional children not knowing how to love or give without associating it with pain.

His body pinned me to the door, his weight holding me, sparking a charge to my cunt. The  struggle of our bodies longing to get close as possible to one another, it becomes a fight of limbs and clothing. The power between us is desperate and volatile. My clothing gets pulled, tugged and ripped at. Pushed to the ground, I finally feel what I want—the strength of a man–his cock throbbing against my body, his heaviness engulfs me.

His hand grabs my now fat flowing cunt, his fingers slipping into the sloppy folds of skin and wet pubic hair. His other hand wraps around my neck and clutches. In this moment the last weeks disappear and the loss I was feeling, the emptiness–is being filled. His body and cock have become ferocious, it is a willing rape. Because I had not had sex for a few weeks–I was tight–not use to the thrust of a cock. It hurt with each shove of his thickness into me, it is the brutal fuck I needed and wanted. The grunts, moans fill the air, yet it all seems remarkably quiet.

One hand surrounding my throat–breathing becoming a useless entity, his other hand still covered my face and eyes. Looking through the slits of his fingers I watch the shadows of light and dark as they dance across the ceiling and let my body be taken, let myself feel the pain of this man, taking mine and giving me his.

image by Aeric Meredith-Goujon