I spent my Friday evening going through the Taschen Big Butt Book, it has made me even more excited for today’s round of ass appreciation. It seems to have put me in good mood, ready and dripping with anticipation of all the ass I will see throughout the day in this fine city.

It made me want to show my own ass off. It made me yearn for a nice spank, one or two good firm ones–the quick sharp variety that leave your hand print. Just enough to leave my skin stinging and itching for more.

So–I think I will leave for work early, packed with a few new toys to play with–my jimmyjane and her friend Gigi. Maybe I should wear a plug or the smart balls–a continual sexual reminder of the day I like to celebrate. First stop–a flirt with the coffee shop boys/girls. Get my flirty ass on.

You will not believe what song just popped up on the Pandora? I see you Baby–shakin’ that ass. A definite sign of the day.

xoxo.

Well, there certainly is nothing like a rock solid cock and firm spank until my ass is pink, red and stinging to make me forget about my blues. There is just something perfectly fleeting about having a “fuckguest” to come roll around with you for a few days to make you forget reality.

Chicago guy in SF has been fun, and actually sort low key, not the sex but our activity. Almost like playing house for a few days. It is easy for me to let that submissive side become the dominate side of me if, especially if I am aware it’s only going to be momentarily. I like and enjoy it then, I like to make my man happy in many ways. I like to cook you dinner, rub you down from head to toe until you fall asleep, and then I like fucking you like the crazy girl I am. Fucking all this recent pain disgruntledness away. There is a freedom to being with someone you know and fucked before.  It allows me fuck like me, and like you want me to be, and then like me again. The dynamism of man woman. Magnetism of cock to cunt.

After a nice romp and serious tear jerking cum on my part, we hit the Golden Gate Bridge, and the Marin Headlands, it was quiet, almost sunny, my bitch of German car loved the drive.  I loved the drive.  Back to the city, we hit up Madame S. I cannot believe I have never been here before, I had been to Mr. S at it’s original location, but not the new combined store. First off, this looks like fun! Secondly,  Christ latex wear is expensive–we didn’t get any. The one little thing I wanted, this cute latex collar with a tiny purple bow was $40, we didn’t get it. And another thing, the sex industry is like the wedding industry, or baby industry, they jack the price up about 300% because they can, it’s niche market. They have a leash there, selling for $18.95, the same exact one I scored at the army surplus store for $2.50. Crazy. That reminds me I need to find someone to use that leash with.

We did get some Bondage tape to try out,  a little bit of restraint. I have never tried it, looks like fun. I sort of prefer restraining myself though, I like locking my hands behind my back while I grind on top of your cock, or my peace fingers locked around my big toes– legs spread wide in a slut V shape, open for serious pounding by you, or locking my hand around my thighs at the bend in my knees–feet in the air– ass and pussy smiling you, inviting– while you slow slide in and out of me, my feet may come to rest on your shoulder while you appear and disappear inside my flesh. I can see you looking at my pussy and your cock taking it all in. Or even better, I like it when you restrain me with your strength. Pulling my hands behind me, or around my shoulder, or neck, or hair– while you fuck me from behind.  Keep me in my place, tell me what to do, what not to do, take my thought away from me for this brief moment of fucking.

Chicago also bought me a new glass blown butt plug. I had one, but well one, it did get lost that one time–  and two,  it was not (bluntness ahead) opening me up enough to take his cock. We had tried early that morning and I practically punched him the nose.  It hurts like nothing else I have exactly felt before. A finger, a thumb is certainly not a hard cock, it takes more time to get it in.

When we got back to my place, I jumped in a shower to put the plug in, the heat makes me relax more. It was difficult still, I had to get on all fours and spread my cheeks a bit to get that lubed round tip to pass. The pain shoots to pleasure and it’s in.

We lull around the rest of the evening–ass plugged, I make drinks, relax, watch a movie–then “let the wild rumpus begin!” We fuck all over my tiny room, the bed sheets lost to the floor. I am acrobat on your cock. Eventually I am backwards riding, my ass to your gaze, with each grind you push the plug in deeper, twisting, and fucking both apertures. Then you pull the plug out and I slide you cock in with ease and, yes, with pleasure. I ride and ride, until you command me to face you without getting off your cock. Twisting around, we are eye to eye, leaning my hands behind me for support, I slow grind.  My pussy wide open and clit begging for attention, which you give.

You cannot take it any more, pulling out you flip me over grab on to my body, limbs, hair–and fuck me from behind, truly. I have my vibe coursing through my core, as you plunge, face lost in the pillows, and you plunge. My pussy opens up wide and you cum hard, in my, now, not scared space, my pussy willow jerks from your release and the vibe hitting just right spot.

Collapse into fuck sleep.

(thanks GrayRake for term fuckguest)

For the longest time I used masturbate over my girl panties. Though– I started getting myself off early It took me a long time to go under the fabric, between the folds, to enter my young girl lips. To learn my pussy. Rubbing vigorous little circles the fabric would wear out and eventually get small holes that grew into bigger holes, until the panties seemed rather useless. Of course masturbation was never a topic of discussion in my home, so mysteriously the hole rubbed panties would disappear and be replaced with new flowery pink girly panties hand selected by my mother. Did she know?

Talking to my two closest girlfriends, I ask them about their vibrators. One has never used a vibe or toy in her entire life, the other–well it appears her sex drive has up and moved away and she is teetering on the verge of becoming crazy cat lady. No toy ever? Wow! That surprised me, for as long as I can recall pleasing myself– I found something to use besides and in addition to my fingers and hands. Spoons, remote controls, marker/sharpies, nail polish bottles, plastic ball tipped bristled hair brushes on top if my panties was always a favorite.

I bought my first little mini vibrator from Spencer’s. The basic 4″ cream colored little vibe, this thing sucked. I stuck with my handy TV control for the longest time. I lived in an area that had regulations about age and sex, tattoos and booze, but those regulations never seemed to be followed. By 15 I was frequent visitors of fucked up, nondescript, no signage telling what was inside–adult book stores, followed by liqueur stores. I also used to frequent a place called the Crypt,  a gay man leather bondage shop. I believe it is still in operation. Going into this oddly corner triangle shaped building, the smell of leather filling my nasal passage–glances and some sneers, but mostly strange acceptance was allotted to me when coming here. They sold whippits here, this was my first bout of combing sex with drugs. Well, that came later, but the nitrous sure was nice–it wasn’t until years later that I found out why they sold it at the gay leather store.

Sex and drugs! Yes please. Well– not any more really, it has been some time since I enjoyed the effects of mind altercation and cock. I am not opposed, it would just have to be a special situation. Of course, I am not including weed and alcohol in this statement. Those aren’t drugs right?

So–I am wondering, if I had not spent so many years–fucking my young girl-teenage self, and many of the years after that so high–what would my sex life have turned out like. Would I have had sex earlier–instead of with myself for so long. Would I now be a crazy cat lady, would I be married and living in some warped domestic bliss, would I have a tribe of children, would I masturbate less, would I watch less porn, would I have love?