Lost is the only way I can describe the way sucking your cock makes me feel. Someone once told me what I do is not a blow job, that I give head–deep, solid cock slut head. I was unaware there was a difference.

It is all about reaction, mine, yours, our bodies. My mouth wrapping around flesh, licking and flicking my tongue trying to understand what really drives your cock. My wild un-tameable hair becomes entwined in my mouth and wet strands stick to your cock from all the slobber and precum.

You want more, you want to have the feeling you are making me suck your cock, I want that feeling too. You could make me. Grabbing a hold of masses of hair from each side of my head, making pony tails with your fist you begin to guide, thrust and drive my face around your branch. Because we have only done this a handful of times now, I sense some reserve. Your hands are not truly wrapped in my hair like they should be. There is some fear, some mix of respect for me as the woman diluting with me the lust filled cock sucker. A dangerous elixir–one I haven’t even learned how to mix properly all of the time. The separations of self mixing with others. The cock sucker, lover of dick, protector of books, informational social worker, mother, child and slut—how does it all mix when I have your cock in my mouth?

“You better wrap your hands around one more time.”

That does the trick–the cocktail is perfect. Your hands tangled tight, you are driving now, I can feel it take over your body and mine responds well to that power shift. My hungry slut word hole is being filled with you. My pussy begins to thump. By my hair you pull me up and down on your shaft–with each fill I want to fuck you, my desire to ride the cock begins to exceed my desire to suck the cock. My pussy is that slicked vast black hole of fuck neediness.

Pulling me up, I waste no time filling you with me. I ride, my cunt is wet, a river flows. When I get this wet I am not even sure you can feel anything, but I am lost anyway, so it doesn’t really matter, I grind and use your cock the way I want. Your words continue the flow from your mouth to my cunt.

“You need a cock in you mouth too, don’t you? such slut, there is never enough cock for you.”

The image of another hard dick standing next to me appears–his meat in my face as I fuck you. The flickering mental porn scene makes me indeed want more, I grind and bounce on you harder. Now three cocks are in my bedroom, yours I ride and two for sucking. Separation has happened, in this obscured moment I am your cock slut.

Bracing my hands flat to the kitchen floor for support an eager slut for each plunge of your cock hitting into me from behind. The pain of being fucked like this is what makes me feel like I am  truly being fucked. Life, my problems, the damage, the past and the sorrow can all be fucked out of me and the pain becomes part of the release. Your cock slamming my cervix, the thickness making the walls of pussy expand wanting more–wanting to feel the deep ache of fucking despite the pain, loving the pain.

Slam slam slam into this cunt, I want all of you, more of you inside of me. More than there is.

It becomes more than both of us can take, in this position we are more like our animal selves than our human –I can hear myself begging for you to fuck me. I am not sure if the words spill out of my mouth or if they are just a tornado buzzing in my head. Everything is being pounded, spread open and dripping. All of it filling the air, your cock smell is all over my face and I want more.

Moving to the bedroom, we come down from the sex high of the kitchen. I like it when you lay on top of me with all of your weight–not even sexually, but playfully–I like the feeling that my body is being consumed by yours.

We kiss and play and smile, you move down and lick between my legs– at my just plowed cunt you lap, drink and worship this pussy. Together we tangle in the bed, this way and that, sideways, reverse on top, upside down we contort our bodies for pleasure. We end up in a classic 69 position, me on top of you, your throbbing cock in my mouth, my pussy in yours. My goal– to coat you with my slobbering sloppy mouth and then ride your cock some more. My magic mouth stiffens you to rock and creates lube all at once. I slide down the length of your body, my back and ass toward your gaze, leaving a trail of pussy from your mouth to your dick, that sweet sweet cock that I then proceed to fill my cunt with. Some cocks do not fit in this reverse direction, it is just awkward, but your cock fills me just right, I slide and slow grind, pushing and pulling my pussy lips up and down your shaft. Filling need met.

Your hands grabbing my ass flesh–sometimes pulling me into your cock, sometimes just kneading my ass meat. Eventually your finger begins to massage my ass hole and the moment it does I can feel my pussy begin to open. My reaction when someone plays with my ass is involuntary and freeing. It’s like the true metaphor of the pussy blooming like spring–you cannot stop it. I try to squeeze around your cock, but my cunt will not allow that, she just wants to be open, spread and be filled with cock. Your is filling me and soon my ass is being finger fucked while I ride.

I know I have said it before–-I am not one you would really call an anal lover, but god damn! that feels so damn incredible. My clit pulses and becomes this hot little pebble. I’m lost in this and I fuck, I feel your cock with my pussy, feel each bump and ridge as slow glide down the length of your branch and back up again. Oh how love that sweet slow grind.

You flip me we kiss. I am thirsty–water–water–I need water. Taking a big drink from the glass next to the bed, you let a stream of the water go from you mouth to mine. You take another drink and let another straight stream of water flow from your mouth hitting my body, my tits, my belly, my wide open cunt–a cold shock to my hot skin. My clit jumps and pussy soaks with excitement and your cock eagerly wants in.

Me beneath you–feeling your cock slide into me. The slow slides transform into hard deliberate thrusts accompanied by the sweet pain I seem to be craving. I reach my hand to the juncture between us, wanting to rub my clit while you fuck me–I am absolutely shocked at what I find. This clit is not mine. It is huge, on fire and ultra sensitive!  I have never felt it this big before. Dipping my finger around my pussy I bring up some moisture this unknown bulb and rub all around it. Fucking electric. I make you feel it, both of us surprised at the size it has become.

All I want to do is cum with your cock being buried deep inside and my finger furiously loving my new clit. My brain has seriously up and walked out my apartment I am all pussy needy cunt.

“Fuck me!”

Disjointed words flow and grunt out of me as I beg and I know the words aren’t circling in my head this time, they are filling the room, the apartment, and the one above and below me and I do not care.

“Fuck me fuck me fuck me—I want to cum.”

My super enhanced power clit is on fire, your cock my core heat source. I writhe up and ride your thrusts with a wild cadence I have not felt in sometime. Mumbling and barking in the tongues of “fuck me” and “I am gonna cum” my pussy takes over trying to get as much cock as she can, a filling deep within. Rubbing my fevered clit I cum hard in body jerks, my cunt pulsing–pleading for you to cum with me. Pulling me closer onto your things your cock pumps into me a few strokes and you pull out spraying my mound and belly with you hot splatter. Scooping your cum onto my fingertips I rub it on my electric throb of clit and ride those last waves of electric energy out on your cock–which remains hard inside me.

At one point the need for his cum to fill me up was so great that I begged for it. It is some sort of sick game my body and mind play with each other. The mind knowing I cannot be filled with the potentiality that cum can bring–my body crying out for it literally. Crying and begging for him to fill me with his cum. The motion of his head shaking “no” in the dark made me cry harder. This need for cum was so strong in this moment of being fucked and still being asleep–woke up by cock, my pussy opening wide, the tip of your cock hitting my cervix, hurting, yet so good at the same time. Middle of the night sex is often my most vulnerable and freeing of moments.

You gave me this pounding that I have needed for quite some time. A pounding that was not punishment, but painful pleasure. Stretching me wide, thrusting into my depth, with each movement slamming my body into the mattress. It hurt and I wanted more–I took comfort in feeling your cock stab into me–in just feeling a pain that succumbed to orgasm.

My need for cock has been boundless lately, and you just appear to have inflamed this need.
That scent of your cock so close to me, your silhouette in the dark as your body movs to the other side of the bed where my head lay half dangling off the edge, your hardened cock now at my mouth–bounces at my lips. Breathing in, I never wanting to leave this scent of musky cock and cunt we have created. Wrapping my hungry, now very slutty and needy, mouth around the tip of you cock–longing to elicit that sweet and salty brine I tasted earlier.

My mouth parts open, then begins to stretch with each slow grinding thrust into my wet word hole. Your hands grabbing my mess of locks, forcing what doesn’t need forced, pulling my face into all of you. I choke, but never gag–at that moment I am in love with your cock, in love with your balls that I am grasping and pulling in with each deep thrust into my mouth. I want you to cum in my mouth I want to taste you, drink you and and learn how to make you cum with only my lips.

But you don’t let that happen–not yet. Between my legs, I grasp your cock guiding it and you  spread thighs wide open with you body, with your cock. Earnestly you begin fucking me, each trust harder, approaching a rhythmic cadence. The sounds of our bodies slamming together, the sound of the bed creaking in time below us–the symphony of fucking.

“cum on me, cum on me, cum on me”

I beg, plead and scream–the neighbors are probably begging for you to cum on me already. Finally the heat splats across my body, streaking across my belly, tits, hair and pillow behind me.

This weekend I have been a good hungry little cum slut.

Tweet

I have bounced around beds with my fair share of men (and a few girls), but truly only shared my bed with two men– the Husband and the Gangster.

The past week  much time was spent in bed with NYC. There is something about sharing a bed that solidifies a relationship. It breaks boundaries, it surpasses aspects of being human that fucking will never do. It is an essential moment in daily existence a moment we can only be lucky to share.

The warmth of a body next to mine, the breath (good and bad), the smell of our fucking and sweating surrounding us like it’s own blanket, the way bodies lock- tangle- separate and then connect again. Limbs twisting and interconnecting, your cock soft and spent or hard and nudging on all parts of my body–awake long before either of us.

I realized how much I miss the early morning sex, when the city light is just changing from black to dark blue and opening into that quintessential gray San Francisco morning, the kind that constitutes staying in bed a little longer, especially in someones arms.

Roused from a sleep by cock–the 4 AM fuck is amazing to me. There is little of my mental capacity functioning at this time. I am free from those thoughts of the day that begin to weigh the mind. My pussy still needs coaxing, but very little. Some fingers to wake me up, your tongue to arouse me–to make my pussy bloom and drip. Easily I am ready to feel your cock fill me.

My thighs spread wide, accommodating to you, sideways we lock, your cock plunges deep and my pussy surrounds. The thought process that fucks with me when I am awake and fucking are absent. I am lost, all pussy, all needy for dick. Pulling at your thigh trying to get more of you in–I can feel the engorgement of my lips–I can hear the wet plunging sounds we make together, my eyes never open, my head is still asleep.

The sex was slow and fast all at once. My pussy tight around your cock, I could feel every push and pull, the skin stretched and surrounding. I like using both of my hands to feel my full of blood lust pussy–so puffy–my clit buried in the mound of flesh my cunt has become–between two fingers I manipulate the pearl that is so deeply hidden in flesh, still in a deep sleep.

Some of my best orgasms happened during these sleepy fucks, no toys, no thought, just cock to cunt. The rush filling my lungs then radiating out of my body–culminating in a pouring out of my pussy on to your hard cock. We often came together at these moments–a hot wet mess and then we would fall back asleep you filling me and I surrounding you.

My pussy really is a cleaver contraption. She rules the party, opens and blooms when she wants–and how she wants. It’s often different every time. My pussy has the ability to get really wet and stay that way–or she can just close up and lock your cock right out. Sometimes even lock right on your cock. Clamping down tight, until you have no choice but to get out– if you can that is.

The pussy really is a complex flower. I refrain from calling it delicate- perhaps some women do have a delicate flower-but my flower can withstand a good solid pound if you bring to the right place before hand. My pussy can make you very happy man if you put the time into understanding what maker her so clever.
NYC is good at understanding my pussy. When we fucked in NY there was a wild frenzy of sex, which I connect to us meeting for the first time–my pussy was ready at any moments notice. I was extra horny–not a lot of coaxing was needed.

This time with NYC there was more familiarity–a familiarity that equated into his  further understanding of my body. Although,it could just be my bossy ways.

I directed, dictated how I wanted him to coax the lips of my pussy.
“I want you to make my pussy puffy.
Kiss my cunt like it’s my mouth.”
I  like it when a man takes his time, I understand how your cock is zealous for the cunt, but it is so simple to just slow it all down. If you take me slow, follow my cue and leads–I am sure to coat your cock in all the liquid gloss I have.

Kiss and rub my full lips with your palm, slip the tip of your tongue in between my folds-begin to split me.
“slow down, slow down, slow down.”
The fucking cock can be so damn eager.
I get so wet with just a small slip of your finger- slick, needy–truly wanton of more. More…tongue, fingers, mouth, and of course that thick cock.

The slower you go– the longer I fuck. The slower we start, the more my pussy opens and the wetter I will get. I do not even want to feel your cock on my lips until I feel drops of me dripping from my cunt in between my ass cheeks–into my ass hole and onto the sheets below. Take a step back and the more your cock will strain and drip to get into this pussy.

Let’s take it slow before we take it fast.

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.

Since returning from my mini wild wild west vacation–I have for some reason have been hit far more than usual. Typically I am not the type of girl who gets hit on often–I think I scare a great deal of men and the others are just not into what I have to offer. But, don’t get me wrong neither of these are a problem to me. I actually like scaring men with my zealous confidence and those who are not physically into my curves, my round ass, my globe tits and woman belly well there are that many more who are.

I have a theory about when men hit on me and why. First which is proven science by strippers everywhere– is fertility. Men, the dogs they are, can smell when I am primed to fucked and filled with cum. According to Psychology Today strippers make $20 more and hour when ovulating. Men know this, they sense it, they smell it–and are willing to pay for it.

In my own experience this is certainly true. On that oh so special week before my period– I feel like an animal with men’s nose s glued to my ass seeking a sniff, burrowing into my pussy. I like it, it makes me feel powerful. It makes me want to feel cock filling me up. I become more aggressive than usual–it makes me want to push you down on my bed and crawl the length of your body–letting my pussy feel all parts of you–with lingering attention paid to your throbbing branch– until I am straddling you face with my strong thighs flanking the side of your head and my cunt ceasing the flow of your words.

My second theory, not proven, is that men can sense when I have just recently fucked. Differently than those men who can tell I just fucked myself–the effect of fucking ones self are brief compared to being fucked by another. The bliss shows on my face, my walk, my smile and my attitude for days even weeks after–depending on the cock.

It is not that the sex I had on my camping trip was the best most explosive sex ever, it was that it came unexpected. I was not hunting for cock, just having a good time. It was a simple mutual drunken attraction–and this is what I think has caused the residual fruit of male flirtation this week. The men folk have sensed I like to be fucked.

Whatever it may be, I certainly have been enjoying it and it has left me cock hungry and in state of needy pussyness.

It just dawned on me that we are now over half way through 2010. Though it is only July– I feel the summer sun slipping away–the longer days are becoming shorter-darker again.

Taking  inventory, cataloging my mid-year point I realize I have been considerably less slutty than last. I have not even been on Craigslist  once this year, that is sort of astounding. Selectivity has played a larger role, than in last–which is great–if weren’t for all this sex I need to place somewhere–I have a lot of fucking to give and get.

I read in in an issue of Cosmo, that some robo-gym angel left behind–allowing me to subdue the slow death of riding a stationary bike to nowhere, that the average number of sexual partners for a heterosexual man is 7, and for women it is 4. This not an accurate source–a more accurate source, states men will have 20 and women 6. I think the women are fibbing a bit.

Six? That seem surprising to me, I certainly had more six just last year.

How does a slut decide when to fuck and who to fuck when attempting to exercise some selection in their life? This year there has only been four, or was it five, and I am really counting only three–but if I fuck New Years Eve guy one more New Years Eve, I may have to start counting him.

I feel pretty good about my sexual choices this year, far better than past choices. There was only one I should not have fucked, twice, but sometimes it takes twice to know. I think the key is to know before you actually fuck them–I’m working on that one.

So I am not average, according to the polls I am a super slut. In the last year and a half I have lived the sex life of two average heterosexual women. Lucky me.  So, do lesbians have more sex partners than straight women? Probably and probably have a better quality of sex than the average straight woman. I have not been with any women this year.  A route perhaps I should explore before years end.

Sadly the same poll showed that with each year of life we stop discussing our fantasies. I wonder if that extends beyond sexual fantasy? To me, this is worse than a lack of sex, without the fantasy, the hope, that anticipation of fucking–we die. In all my sex and all my love and all my lack of both at times–I have never stopped fantasizing about fucking,  and have never given up hope of finding and having great, rich, romping fuck life with the one I love and who loves me.

The search continues, the loneliness for cock and love remain–but my legs still spread and my mind still runs wild with all the possible ways I would like to fuck and be fucked–and I hope this doesn’t change anytime soon.

Fleeing the gawking, aroused and shocked stares of those who had just saw me getting fisted from across the pond to the sinews of Andy Goldsworthy’s wall, we ran like children who just heard the words “ready of not here I come,” we had to hide and quick.

I felt innocent and wild, like he was the first boy to ever get a feel of my pussy, even though in actuality it was his whole hand that was filling me up.

From the bench we tried to stroll like we were only appreciating the art, the show was over, then we ran. Andy Goldsworthy took refuge on us. Behind the carefully placed stone by stone wall we hid–we laughed–astounded at our own blatant behavior. We kissed, our lust fueled again. The smell of earth and stone and my cunt were everywhere. I needed cock.

The wet panties had to go.

Slipping them off shoving them into my tiny hand bag, I hike my soft skirt up–bend in half and show you my ass, from behind I run my fingers into the swell between my thighs. Turning toward you, lowering to my knees I begin the undo, the the belt the buttons, give me that cock already.

The head of your cock pops out from the hole of your polka dot boxers– the thickness fills my hands and then my mouth. I suck with earnest–I am that woman who wants to make your cock hard as possible just so you will fuck me with it. I am not sucking for you, but for me. To make your cock mine, to make it where I need to it be– so I can truly feel it when you plunge into my cunt. The fisting, that verge of orgasm has me focused on one mission–to feel you fill me up.

Sloppily I get you slicked up, my knees into the earth, the sticks, pebbles and dirt sticking to my knees–the lack of comfort  is no deterrence for my want of your thickness. Your ready, and I was ready when we were back on that bench.

Again, in half I bend, my hands steadied by Mr. Goldswothy’s sound construction and the soil below me.  Your hands grab my ass plowing your root into me, the rhythm and the cadence grow, my pussy tightens and locks onto you. We have no choice but to slow down, my cunt has locked us together. Deeper is the only answer.

Fuck me growls out of my mouth.
“Fuck me.”
“Fuck me.”
My cunt forces you out of me, she does that sometime, I turn back around your dick dangling hard in front of me –irritated, coated in a mucus cream from inside of me, anxious and dripping from its tip. To my knees I fall and mount your branch with my mouth. When I look up the sunlight from the trees glistens and filters and glints through the the green lenses of my sunglasses, looking at you from below you too appear to be lost in the sunlight.

A jerk from deep inside you cues me, I give a nice slow flat tongue lick along the back side of your cock–from balls to tip, swallow you down, hold you there. Backing out of my mouth willingly and unwillingly–you stroke while I watch, it only takes few measured pumps in your hand until silver clear strands fill the air, landing on my waiting tongue, and hair and fingers. Looking up at you I smile show you the cum on my finger on tongue then drink you down.

I love the way you cum.

It was rather late already, I’d been out, a few drinks down, feeling good, not sloshed, not drunk–but good. I could have easily drifted into sleep, but then I heard the ping. I knew exactly who it was before I looked, all day long I had this feeling I was going to see you tonight–in fact the first thing I thought of when I woke up that morning was the taste of your cock.

The flirts, the 140 character poetry– had been making me wet and frisky all week. I didn’t want to wait, I didn’t want to flirt, no game, no chase–just cock to cunt. Plug to socket– your branch the conduit to my core. It had been too long. It’s simple, no bullshit, more fucking. Down with the girl and up with the cock.

I asked you if I could stay the night, something I normally do not do, but after the drinks– and I knew–after the way you would make me come, I would not want to go home. I wanted to be spent, I wanted you to fuck the thoughts of the day right out of my mind, driving, pounding and all those other violently delicious adjectives I love so well.

Soon enough your door was opening to me, your tall lankly willow tree frame, the opposite of mine, stood in the door way–your long tree limb branches draw me in. Kisses full of life, an incandescence I cannot ignore. Only brief moments pass until I was stripped–standing in those barely there panties, your fingers pressing into my full lips, the triangle fabric patch sticking to me and grinding into my forming wetness.

All I want is all I do–dropping to my knees I feel that trunk sway, and I want it, I need to have you in my mouth, I need you to have my mouth around you, taking as much and all of you I can deep down my throat. I can’t breath and I like it. Wrapping your long fingers into my “fuck me” hair, both hands, my indication that I want you to be the controller, to pull my mouth into you. To make me feel like I cannot take it , but both knowing I can.

I worship, making your cock grow from a swaying branch to a solid stick of stone. When the time finally does come, when you pull me up from my knees, bending me in half–my pussy open with no hesitation, wet and sticky slick. Sucking on your cock makes my inside flow out. You fuck into me. I let you know, with my body, with my ass–that I want more tonight, I need more, I need it to stab and hurt and make me feel–I am built up and want you to take me down with cock. Down with the girl and up with the cock.

You fuck me so well, I’m open and pulsing– flesh wounds of cock love. Ass up you drive into me. I come, one of those comes that make my thighs and legs shake.  Flipping me to my back, my knees are pushed into my shoulders my thighs holding the weight of your body, the curve of your cock making me wince in pain with each thrust, I shift and make you hit me in slightly different spot. Wrapping my hands around my thigh–my fingers finding my pussy,  I feel your shaft sliding into me and back out. The lips being stretched, full of blood and life– and cock.

Pulling out–you slide between my thighs for my round of worship–and you are so devotional as you slurp me in, your fingers deep inside eliciting that flow of fluid, which you devour. My limbs wrap around your back, around your head–I want to keep you in my pussy forever. You eat me so well–I flow and come and my body jerks and spasms. I love the way you lick me, and I tell you so as you continue to drink me in. You take your time and thoroughly enjoy the life between my thighs, the miles between, that electric energy that seeps out, as your mouth, lips and tongue fuck me.

Again–you take my cunt like I need you to. Slamming. Our parts colliding, impacting and absorbing into one another. Cock to fingers to tongue you treat me right all night, and we fade, and we drift, we chatter, I stroke your body to varying degrees, feeling your contours, your ridges, bones, my fingers into your wild man hair. We end up under the covers. Sleep.

At one point in the night, your leg lays heavy between the two of mine and your arms wrapped around me, I wake and think how nice that feels the closeness of after, our bodies once tangled and locked in activity are now tangled and locked in rest.

Morning shines in, I wake, and drift back and forth between some sort of sleep state. When the alarm goes off my hand reaches for your cock, I am hungry. You are asleep, your cock is asleep–but not for long. I absolutely love turning your cock from soft to rock. My my mouth works under her own agency, run by my pussy. Giving you a nice combination of lip service and hand work, your balls filling my mouth, finger running you length.

“Are you gonna give me some that cum this morning, baby?”

Your moans filter into our space, your cock soaked in my spit, my bed head hair sticks to the wetness, pulling it back I continue my ascertainment of what makes your blood flow. I can feel the your cum building, your balls tighten up, your cock jerks inside my mouth. Twitches of desire.

“Come for me.”

One last jolt of solidity takes over your shaft,  I can feel the blood boiling up and out as you fill my mouth with your sweet and salty cum. Gently keeping your cock inside the warmth of my mouth as it jumps and shudders it’s last few time. I raise my head showing you–my mouth full of you– letting a little bit slip from my lip to your softening crown and then I suck it back up and swallow it down.

Satiated for now.