HNT: Spring Has Sprung

Today I was walking home through a light spring rain and I could smell the wet sidewalk and the lilacs. Two of my favourite smells - utter bliss. I got inspired...and then, as sometimes happens, I got half-naked.


Happy HNT, my spring lovelies! Drop by on Osbasso and see who else is frolicking in the warmth in their birthday suits...and then hit up the other HNT.

Group Post: Lost Opportunities

I like to say I don't believe in regret.

I have always been the kind of girl that lacked the good sense and self control to not grab the bull by the horns, the bottle by the neck, the stranger by the junk. I have laughed and cried when I wanted and with abandon. I have winked, flirted and fucked liberally. I have spoken my mind, at times at a truly excessive volume. There is really no play I did not make, no hottie I did not jump, no thing I didn't try that makes me look back and yearn.

My lost opportunity is not to be wild, not to meet someone and take them home, not to seduce that one person you still wonder about...that I have done - my lost opportunity is to live a life I could have lived if I had made different choices. My beloved first born came about as a delightful surprise when I was young, too young by some people's definitions. I lied about my age for years - increasing it as opposed to what most women do - because I got tired of people judging me and making assumptions about me.

Even now, as I type this, I am reluctant to share. I can tell you about my vibrator, my lover and how he fucked me till I screamed - but this, this makes me worry what you will think. It changes people's view of you, when you have a child when you are young - they categorize you and make assumptions about you and file you away in certain boxes. And those boxes aren't nice ones - they aren't labelled intelligent, classy, educated, going somewhere. They are labelled white trash, stupid, uneducated, idiot. You want naked? This is my naked. This, right here - this paragraph, these admissions, this statement is the most naked you will ever see me. It terrifies me.

My lost opportunity is for a life that I could have had, a life I wonder about. A life where I did not go from my father's house to my husband's, a life where I got to live alone and be in my own space as an adult, a life where I got to be a crazy and independent university student rather than one with children, a life where I got to have a relationship and then the kids rather then the reverse, a life that was built, deliberate, thought out in advance rather than put together in retrospect.

I wonder what that life would have looked like - what I would have made of it, who I would now be. I am, unequivocally, sculpted by my motherhood. I don't think I overstate the significance of the relationships with my children when I say I am who I am because of the fact that I am their mother. I am also influenced by my wifehood, by this delightful man with whom I share my life. I am who I am, I live the life I live because of who they are. I wonder sometimes who I am without them. Often I say that in a negative way, I find myself saying "I exist! I am a whole person!" when someone steps on my feet because they do not see me, or rings the doorbell at 1am every time they come home late because they can't be bothered to bring their keys. In those moments particularly I wonder what the world would have held for me had I made other choices, taken other opportunities. I wonder who that woman would be.

But the cost of having that life would be the cost of not being the mother to the most wonderful children in all of creation, not having many of the friends that I have, not being the beloved wife of the world's loveliest man and, and not being perfectly positioned to start this next phase of my life. The reality is that I like this woman, I like her life. There will always be the road not travelled, no matter which road you pick. There will always be something that makes you wonder, gives you pause, that comes to you in quiet moments and whispers what if...

Lost opportunities? Yes. A series of incredibly opportunities gained? Absolutely.

As I said, I don't believe in regret - I have no reason to do so.

This is the most recent in a series of group posts that a bunch of us dirty minded bloggers have been doing...I think many of them will have more scintillating reads than mine today. Click through and see what is going on with them: Hubman, Aurore, Autumn, Duchess, Redheaded Ridinghood, Dick Fitzwell, Bdenied, Topaz, Library Vixen, Eden's Dragon, Andy, Southerngirl and the Kink Chronicles.

We started doing the group posts as part of my "May I Seduce You" - but we have enjoyed them so much we are going to continue, not on a weekly basis but once a month. If you want to be on the email list to participate drop me an email - this is not an exclusive club, everyone is welcome to play...

I'll Do ANYTHING for an A...

When I got his email it got me going. I read it and immediately felt it with a rush of blood away from my brain...I will confess that Mr. R has nailed (ahem) me with this one. Confession: when I lie in bed, legs spread, fantasizing THIS is what I fantasize about...

The midterm was administered on Monday. It was returned on Wednesday. Thursday, she knocked on my door. "Can I come in, Professor?"

"Of course." Small liberal arts colleges, after all, place such an emphasis on being accessible to students. "How are you, Kimberly?"

She was a tall, thin blond with fantastic legs I would sometimes stare at, quite inconspicuously, during class, if she would be so kind and thoughtful as to wear a short skirt or short shorts. She wore revealing tops less frequently, but that's probably for the best: It's much easier to stare at a woman's legs without anyone noticing than at her tits. Today, she had dressed to reveal both: A black halter top, with a peek of a black bra underneath sticking out. A grey miniskirt. Her hair was done up, and looked amazing--blonde, just past her shoulders. She had done her nails--a feminine pink--and lipstick to match. (There is very little sexier than a girl with a hand wrapped around your cock, with the nails matching the lips enveloping the head. But I digress.)

Kimberly had not done well on the midterm, so I suspected her visit might have something to do with that. I did notice that, without my asking, she closed my office door--probably so that no one overheard her worrying about her F on the exam.

"I'm okay--I just did so badly on this midterm, and it's my last semester here. I just need to finish the requirements and your class is one of the ones I need to pass in order to graduate."

"Well, the midterm is just one part of your grade. Do you think you just did badly on the exam, or do you seem to be having real problems with the material?"

"The material--I just can't seem to get it. At all! I do so well in my other classes, but Latin is so . ...structured, so strict, so"--and here, I could swear she paused briefly--"so HARD."

"I'm sorry you feel that way. I'm sure you're not the only one, but it is a required class for graduation. You certainly can't drop it, so I'm afraid you'll just have to work harder." I made sure to emphasize the last word, just as she did.

"I don't know how much harder I can work! I've given it my best effort, and I just can't seem to get the hang of it. What about some extra credit? Maybe there's a project I could do that would let you boost my grade a bit."

A friend of mine once had mentioned that just as you don't go into teaching for the money, you shouldn't go into it hoping to nail coeds all over the place. You had to be selective: No girls that were out of your league, no spoiled girls, no confrontational ones; try and avoid girls who live in dorms, try and avoid girls that the other professors talk about; and don't forget about those young women who go back to college after taking some time off.

"Professor, I'm willing to do ANYTHING to pass this class." If only that were true . . . "Kimberly, you really should be careful how you phrase things like that! Anything is a broad term."

"But," she said, "I mean it." She unbuttoned the top of her shirt.

In some ways, this was absurd. Don't get me wrong: I'm a fairly attractive guy. Sure, I'm 33 but I hold up pretty well. I'm 5'11", 170 lbs. I jog occasionally but play ultimate Frisbee on a regular basis, and that makes up for a lot. No hair loss, no greying. But really . . . This is a major league babe we're talking about. And I suppose it's not like a 19-year-old is throwing herself at me--that would be crazy and an obvious trap--but still . . . she may be 30ish but she's amazing. I didn't get girls like that when I was younger, and I doubt I am going to get them now. (That thought process? Took one-thousandth of a second. Just enough time for button #2 to come undone.)

"This," Kimberly said, "is my offer: In exchange for a C in your class, I will let you fuck me, in my pussy or my mouth, once a week until the end of the semester." Button #3 came out and then button #4. I was ready to crack. But I had a second thought.

"That's your offer? You think sex with you once a week is worth compromising my principles?"
She paused, puzzled, crestfallen. "How do I even know that you are any good? If you're putting forth your best effort in class, and doing so badly, how do I know that fucking you is worth that C?"

She smiled. I suspected that a woman as beautiful, as experienced, as her would be able to offer something no teenage coed, no matter how tight, toned, and virginal could offer: technique, skill, enthusiasm, confidence, sultriness, seductiveness. "Allow me to offer you a demonstration," she said. The remaining buttons came undone. She dropped to her knees in front of me.

She reached into my pants and undid my zipper, she undid my belt, and fished my rather hard cock out. (This was certainly one thing that hadn't aged: Its eight-plus inches of length, three-plus inches around, and rock solid with the blood of illicit lust.)

I was not disappointed. It was, by far, the best blow job I had ever had. She knew how to mix a variety of experiences: stroking, sucking, blowing, nibbling (not biting!), caressing, licking, teasing, pleasing. I loved watching her sexy blond hair falling about my lap, I loved when she would pause and rub my cock, slippery with her saliva, against the firm nipples of her surprisingly perky breasts.

But that wasn't enough. Not for me, and it seemed, judging from her enthusiastic response to when I would brush her hair, caress her cheek, stroke her nipples, for her, either. I could sense her arousal: Quite literally, for I could smell her pussy beginning to moisten.

It took a great deal of self-control, but I gently pushed her away. "Well, you've shown me your curves, which are worthy of a curve, and you've shown some skill that makes you worth my attention, but now it's time for extra credit." She smiled at me--a perfectly winning smile, one that would have won me over had she been fully clothed at a bar.

I helped her up and laid her out on my espresso desk, the contrast with her milky white skin appealing. She willingly spread her legs, and I willingly entered her, as softly and smoothly as I could, but still with enthusiasm she probably would have expected from one of her 22 year old classmates, not an experienced man slightly her senior. She was in control now, not me.
I began fucking her, hard. She spread her legs as far as possible, drawing me further inside her. She grabbed my ass and pulled me further into her. I stared at her tits, perky, firm, uplifting, and shaking with pleasure.

She clenched her kegel muscles, squeezing me as I moved in and out, in and out, in and out. She squirmed on the desk, I hoped to find a more pleasurable position and not because it was completely uncomfortable. The moans coming from her mouth alleviated that concern, but also served to turn me on even more.

Then the dirty talk started: "Oh God, Professor, fuck me, fuck your student's pussy. Slam me with that cock, fuck your naughty little slut of student, who spends more time in bed than in the library. Fuck me like I've wanted you to ever since the first day of the semester . . . I've wanted you to fuck me since day one, now take me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, FUCK ME!"

By that point, I had little choice: I was close to the edge, and I had to delay. So I changed positions: I lifted her legs straight up into the air, I was driving into her now, and her talking, her moaning, ceased, as she began to breathe more heavily, as I was reaching ever and ever deeper inside her.

"Oh, God, Kimberly, I'm gonna cum, I can't take it anymore."

"Cum in my mouth! I want to taste you!" She pushed me off, dashed to the floor, and resumed sucking my cock with even more enthusiasm than before, taking me deeper and deeper, until my eyes rolled back in my head and I began to cum--release, sweet release.

I pinched her nose to be sure she would swallow it, but I don't think that was necessary, given the smile with which she finished. I collapsed into her, and she fell atop me. Her naked, sweating body staining the shirt and pants, soaked with my sweat, her juices.

"Kimberly," I said, once I had regained some control, "that was worth it. By itself. You have nothing more to prove to me. You've got your C."

She leaned over. "I like working hard. How about if I go for an A?"

I looked her in the eye. "Get on the desk," I said "open your legs." She did immediately, holding her knees to spread them as wide as possible - open for me. "Hold your skirt up." She smiled, obeyed without question. "Yes, Sir, I want my A." I sat in my desk chair and put my mouth between those legs, gently licking and flicking her with my tongue. She moaned and closed her eyes: "look at me if you want that A" I told her firmly. She opened her big eyes and looked right at mine, watching me lick her clit and slide my fingers into her warm pussy.

I slid my fingers in and out as she arched into my mouth, moaning "oh Professor." I loved the sound of my title on her lips, lips still pink from sucking my cock. I licked her until she begged and then I made her beg some more, finally bringing her to a fierce orgasm.

She lay on my desk - panting, moist and sated - legs still open for me. "Same time next week," I asked her. She smiled, nodded. "Yes, sir."

Now THAT'S Jizztastic!

Warning: this is kind of a crude post...

I was just comparison shopping for G-spot vibrators at my local den of lust and I saw the weirdest product ever. Now, maybe I am naive but, really guys, pills that make you have more jizz?? More of it and a more enthusiastic spurt? I mean, not that I am against a little...um, how to put this delicately...spray play - but I have never been in the moment, so to speak, and thought: now that was an unimpressive show, I wish he could have hosed me down more thoroughly.

Is this really a problem?

And that is of course what I said in a really loud voice:
"I mean, really, your biggest problem is that your cum doesn't shoot far enough?"
(Strange man gives me terrified look.)
"No, sir, I didn't mean you. I'm sure your cum is fantastic."
(Friend leads me away by the arm.)

If the perception of a less than robust spray of man juice is the highest thing on your list of worries then I am going to go out on a limb and say that life is OK for you. Am I wrong here?

HNT: Exposed to You

Who are you fucking on this sultry Thursday? Could it be me? Would you kiss me tenderly and then make love to me? Would you hold me down and fuck me? Would you play my dirty games? Would you teach me new ones? Would you make me feel like your lover, your mistress, your whore? Would you cherish me, amuse me and capture me in your world for just a moment in time?

Happy HNT, dirty darlings. Swing by Osbasso's to see who else is displaying their delights - and also check out the other HNT.

Fantasy Fuck: Hot Bartender AND Exhibitionism

Today the group who are playing the group post game are writing about fantasy fucks - either that wonderful fantasy you have, or that fuck that tells an awesome story. This story is not a made up fantasy...this is the story of one evening in the life of an errant girl, before she was a wife, on a youthful backpacking journey. We will be doing at least one more group post - so if you want to play, drop me an email.

My dear friend Donna and I met up in Amsterdam. I don't know if you have ever been to Amsterdam, but let me tell you that it is a city where a girl can get herself into a wide variety of trouble. We rented what remains unmatched as the shittiest hotel room I have ever seen and hit the streets - it was already pretty late by the time we headed out. Jeans, tank tops and sandals - both of us away from home, both of us enjoying our youthful freedom. We were at the age where life hasn't quite hit you yet - when you still have long summers, you still have not been confronted with the responsibilities of adulthood and you still embrace the evening with enthusiasm.

We found an utterly charming little bar on a busy corner. Gorgeous long wood bar, huge windows looking out into the busy street - the kind you can open in the summer. We weren't looking for trouble, we just wanted to sit and talk and catch up - share adventures over drinks. We strolled up to the bar and sat down - the extremely attractive bar tender greeted us with enthusiasm and poured us each a generous first drink.

He kept coming back to chat with us while he served the other patrons and Donna, having known me for more than a few years, soon realized that I was doing my classic-Kimberly moves, road testing them in a new area code. After several more drinks the bar started to clear out some and Donna decided that she didn't really want to watch me fuck the bartender - so she went back to the hotel to be rested up for our tour of the Heineken factory in the morning.
(Ah, the energy of extreme youth!). The rest of the patrons left as well and he locked the door behind them. He didn't ask me if I wanted to stay, I didn't ask if I should - this was clear enough to the both of us.

Paul - which may not actually be his name but it is the one I have given him, so please play along - did the work of closing up. He put things away and flirted with me - but didn't reach out and touch me, didn't make an overt move. We chatted lightly as he wiped off the long bar - then he turned to me and smiled. He walked around the bar and pushed my legs apart to stand between them, leaning down to kiss me as I sat on the stool. After several hours of playful flirting as foreplay it wasn't an exploratory kiss, it was a ready, willing and able kiss - and we were both all three. I stood up to get closer to him - pressing my body up the length of his - running my hands over his back and feeling his cock against me through his pants. He grabbed me by the hips and lifted me up onto the bar. Oh yes.

My legs were wide open and on either side of him and he was taking that opportunity to touch me in the most delicious of ways - rubbing me through my jeans, sliding his hands inside my bra. I slid his shirt over his head and started to work on his belt - not yet though, he pushed me back on the bar and climbed in between my very spread legs. Now, if there is such a thing as an excellent dry hump -well, this was it. I practically came right then and there - him kissing me, his pants open, his shirt off, his hands bracing him on either side of me.

I pushed him so he was sitting back on his knees and slid his pants down to take his cock in my mouth - given the state we were in this did not last very long. He pushed me back and I lifted my ass up while he slid my jeans and panties off. He found a condom god knows where and braced his hands on either side of me while he looked me in the eyes and slid into me. It was one of those moments...those moments that defy words - they are exquisitely pure fuck.

It was the kind of fucking where you are both gasping, where you are arching your body up into him - pushing hard against him to capture every moment of pleasure.

We somehow shifted position, however it was it was dexterous. I climbed on top of him, straddled him and slid down his cock, knees on either side of him - watching his eyes close and the expression on his face deliciously turn to that of a man being fucked soundly. There I was: knees on the wood of the bar, wearing only my bra, on the verge of what I recall as one of the most intense orgasms of my life, riding this gorgeous fucking bartender - directly in front of windows that were pretty damn close to floor to ceiling. I was so utterly mindless in the moment that I have no idea whether anyone saw us, didn't even really think of it. I find it hard to believe that we went unobserved - when we left the bar later on there were still people on the street.

Ah, ah, ah...oh my god I came hard, maybe as hard as I had ever come from sex up to that point - the kind of shuddery, clenching orgasm that leaves you mindless. He came soon after - I have always wondered if it was as intense for him - god, I hope so.

That night remains emblazoned in my memory as one of the all time great fucks. I still have a glass from the bar...a fuck trophy of sorts.

Now go see who else is playing today... Aurore, Nyxmyst, Dick Fitzwell, Pink Vixxxen, Hubman, Veronica, Petal, Library Vixen, Topaz, Bdenied, Autumn, Duchess, and Perv in TO.

The Red Spot and Heat From Your Ass

This is a guest post by Spray Radius who you should go and check out. He sent me three fantasies, all of which were exquisite and have made me utterly unproductive - ah, the price you pay for an inbox full of hot emails! I will be spending the remainder of the day thinking about assuming the position...

As your panties dangled from your ankle and you assumed the position over my lap I could feel your tension, excitement and anticipation. I brusquely told you to present your ass to me. I started out slowly rubbing your sweet round ass. Next a few swats to warm up my hand. As the spanking gains steam your wriggle and I admonish. You can feel the heat coming from me.

The sex in the room was palpable you could feel it, smell it and soon enough taste it.

Your ass was reddening and I could feel the heat radiating. I could also feel how wet you were and made sure you could feel how excited I was. You could see the riding crop, but that was for later. As I got harder I positioned you so you could suck me while I spanked you. This takes some trust and quite a bit of skill, but I knew you were up for the task.

The finale had me standing behind you, your red ass glowing as I took you from behind. You were very wet and inviting. The combination of spanking and fucking driving you to the edge. Just as I was driving faster and harder, I pulled your hair. This added to your pleasure, made you arch your back and allowed me to get even deeper.

There is nothing hotter than hearing you scream and grab onto the sheets as you approach ecstasy. I love fucking you this way because I can see and feel the waves of orgasm coursing through you. I can feel you building up to one final orgasm as you anticipate my final eruption. I get harder, more intense, everything stands still and then there it is.

We collapse on each other and I slowly slide out of you as our skin and sticks together from our latest adventure and we take a few minutes to bask in the joy of the moment before embarking again like to addicts clawing fro the next high.

On Friendship

Today is a sad day in our little corner of the blog-o-sphere. The phenomenal, brilliant, sexy and thoughtful Ms. I is hanging up her laptop. She is in a good place and I am delighted for her, of course, but I will miss her - both her insightful posts and her thought provoking comments.

Ms. I and I travel in the same blogging circles, although she has quite a wider readership than mine, a "senior blogger" so to speak - but we share many of the same readers, blogroll many of the same folks and I often see her commenting on the blogs that I enjoy. We "know each other" - never having met and never having seen each other's faces.

The announcement of her retirement, as well as our darling Button's recent hiatus, has me thinking about all you other bloggers and our relationships to each other. Many of you have become, in an way that many would not understand, friends. We share each other's good and bad moments, laugh at our mishaps and leave virtual hugs when things are not going right - I have never published a sad post and not had least a few of follow up with an email. The sad posts, the angry posts - I find those get more comments than many of the licentious ones. Because you came for the pussy, but you stayed for the thoughts...often because you saw something that reminded you of you.

We check in with each other - there are many of you that I click through on an almost daily basis - and we know what is going on in each other's lives and loves. It's funny - with many of you I know what hurts you, what delights you, what you crave. Most of you I could not pick out in a crowd, but I know the dirtiest thing you have done and what secretly makes you bleed. We have told each other things many of us have told no one else in our lives - the anonymity oddly breeding a certain closeness, an intimacy.

By seeking out and reading your foibles, your adventures, your self-questioning I have learned more about myself and have answered some questions of my own. Many of us mirror each other in experiences, view points and mistakes - it is often I find that one of you has expressed something that I have felt and been unable to find the words to say, something I dared not admit I felt or something I thought no one else would understand.

I know it sounds maudlin, but I guess I just wanted to say that I value you: I value our relationships, your feedback and the fact that you allow me to be a part of your life by sharing your stories. When I fell into this blogging thing I never realized how much the expression of my own feelings and the sharing of your stories and lives would come to mean to me.

So, although it is sad to see another lovely friend slip away into a new phase of her life I know that all of us here in the blog-o-sphere wish her well. That's what friends do...

The Service Here is Impeccable

Another delightful reader request, this one from a Mr. DH. For those of you that I have not replied to as of yet: it is not lack of interest, it is pondering and drafting and finding the right feel...you will hear back!

He was trying on what had to be the 6000th blue button up shirt of the day. "That's a shirt all right," I said from my bored pose against the wall. Seriously, who makes their mistress shop for dress clothes? When you hear mistress you picture wine and lingerie, fucking and sucking. Comparison shopping for french cuffed shirts? Don't you have a wife for that?

He raised an eyebrow at my petulant boredom and made his way back to the change room for shirt 6001. I took a quick look around, no sales people to be seen - and I followed him.

"Excuse me Sir," I said, knocking on the door, and adopting my best innocent and helpful voice "I have something else here for you to try on."

He cracked the door open, "and that would be?" "Me," I said slipping in with him.

I slowly unbuttoned his shirt, "Tell me Sir, did you find everything you were looking for today?" "I think I have now" he murmured back, intrigued by my mood for games.

I slid his shirt off - moved to work on his belt...kissing his neck, licking his ear, his collarbone as I unbuckled him. I could feel him getting hard as I unzipped him, then delightfully harder as I slid my hand past his zipper. Touching him while I stood on tiptoe to kiss him, a naughty kiss for a naughty moment.

I smiled up at him all light and innocence...and then I dropped to my knees. I slid his pants down over his ass, down his legs and looked up at him standing virtually naked in front of me. Smiling I took him in my mouth - loving the sound of his appreciative intake of breath.

I made love to his cock with my mouth. Licking him playfully and sucking him lovingly - although we were not in the privacy of one of our hotel rooms there was no rushing here - I sucked him like I had all the time in the world to pleasure him. Enthusiastically subservient to his lust in that moment.

His hands got lost in my hair - pushing my head more firmly, making me take more of him in my mouth. Moving exquisitely in and out of the warm and wet.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see us in the dressing room mirror. We were the very picture of cock worship - his head thrown back as I devoured him. He was starting to make noise, starting to lose his subtlety in the moment of soft, of mouth, of the joy of the forbidden. He was at that dangerous point - where the need for the pleasure outweighs the fear of discovery, where those scales we all try to balance tilt precariously into the realm of bad judgement, bad decisions, risks fueled by lust. It was exactly where I wanted him.

I took him further, I wanted the scales to collapse, I wanted caution thrown to the wind - to be only in that moment, nothing else existing.

His noises turned to softly uttered words "oh fuck, oh yes, oh god" - I could feel him getting closer, feel him swelling into my mouth, his legs starting to shake just a bit. He opened his eyes and looked down at me, wanting to watch himself cum in my mouth, watch me swallow him and smile. He tasted like only an affair can...

As we were leaving the store the woman at the cash register smiled at us looking all aglow with what she assumed was an air of new love as opposed to the aura of recently fulfilled lust, "thanks for shopping with us today."

He paused, hand on the small of my back leading me out of the store. He smiled at her, "oh, I'll be back, the service here is impeccable."

HNT: Heat

Red: body heat, sex, touching, fucking, passion, lust, even love.

Drop by on Osbasso and check out the other half - nekked lovelies, and don't forget to swing by the other HNT:

Black Panties

We couldn't keep our hands off each other. It was electric, magnetic, irresistible. It had been too long - the build up had been too intense - and we had long since abandoned any pretext of resistance.

He lifted me up, legs around his waist and kissed me as he brought me into his lair. He practically tossed me on the bed - no hesitation, no distance, no doubt. In that first kiss I knew, I knew that this moment would be all I had spent weeks imagining.

I. Want. You - he virtually growled. I can't wait.

Wait? Who said anything about wait. I have been waiting just as long as you, baby, and I have definitely used up my limited store of delay of gratification.

Weeks of emails, of messages, of suggestions and requests and desires expressed was funnelling out in this utterly explosive moment.

Belts - floor; shirts - floor; pantss - floor - all that is left is a bra and underpants and boxers. He lay on top of me and kissed me with a frantic desire that I shared, oh did I share it. Then he leaned back and looked at me, giving me a dirty smile where the corner of his mouth turned up a little.

He slid my wet black panties down my legs...

You always worry when you meet someone that has been stuck in your head for weeks that you have imagined it - that the connection, the lust, the attraction will not translate into the real world. We did not have that problem. If anything our problem was going to be staying within the boundaries, being able to resist each other enough to control the risk inherent in our meetings.

He ran his hands over my body: my breasts, my hips, my thighs - I could not get enough of him touching me. I sat on my knees and met him in the middle of the bed. I could not stop touching him - I wanted to touch him everywhere, to possess all of him in that limited space we had to call our own. I wanted to feel him, take him in my mouth and taste him. To crack the facade of his life just a little with thoughts of me. An intruder in reality, but in truth a welcome one.

He had me on my back and lay beside me. The feeling of him sliding inside me for that first time - having him touch me, fuck me - was incredible. We literally drowned in the moment. The sheen of sweat, the complete abandon of orgasm as he ran his fingers over me as he made me a little bit his, marked me with his scarlet letter, as he moaned when he came. Nothing else existed except us.

The connection was both earth moving and earth shattering: so intense that you can't wait to continue, so strong that you can't help but wonder at the possibilities you can't dare to explore...

See who else is taking part in today's group post: Hubman, Veronica, Topaz, Aurore, Eden's Dragon, Petal, Autumn, Me, Enchanted Mistress, Duchess, Southern Girl, Dick Fitzwell, and Sheba.

She Finished Her Drink

Little tremors. It wasn't so much that she was shaking or shivering, but humming from the inside and purring like a cat.Her eyes had suddenly become about twice their normal size as she gazed at me.

I was pretty sure I knew what she was doing, batting her eyelashes at me like that. Innocent and doting but willing to turn very, very naughty if given the right suggestion. I withdrew my hand from the table and pushed my unfinished plate of food away. I put my forefinger in the air and did a single long lick to taste her. There was the barest trace of odor. The clean pussy of a dirty girl. She probably had her panty drawers lined with dryer sheets and a purple vibrator tucked away at the back.

I let her hold the reins at first but only until I knew that she wanted this - only until she was ready and willing to give herself to me. There was good reason for picking this location. The place itself was dark and people tended to mind their own business. It also happened to be two minutes away from my place. Oh sure, there were annoying things about being downtown. Crazy homeless people on every corner and police sirens at all hours of the night but you could also do what you wanted, like massage a beautiful woman under the table in the middle of a restaurant and get away with it.

She finished the last of her drink and smiled at me before excusing herself to the washroom. Her skirt swung very lightly as she walked away and a barely noticeable outline of her gorgeous ass could be seen in the fabric. I noticed at least two other guys sitting with their significant others turn their eyes as she passed. One of them got punched in the arm by his beau.I didn't have to do much to ready my place for the evening but I did tidy it up and kept the lights on, but dimmed them as I walked out into the night.I purposefully kept the windows open.

Living downtown meant being sandwiched in by condos and skyscrapers at all sides. About 100 feet away from my window were other windows of an adjacent condo. Some people would sit on their balcony and smoke. Couples would sit there and mindlessly watch television on opposite sides of the sofa. Sad little lives these people lived. I had decided that I was going to leave the windows open all night. If she came home with me, I wanted the world to see what I was going to do to this gorgeous broad. I gave her a minute and put enough money on the table for the bill and a decent tip. I got up, hovering around the bathroom doors. It was a semi-enclosed space with public telephones and I fished around my pockets, acting like I was looking for change. My cock was still hard from the sight of her walking away but my jeans at least were keeping it from being overly noticeable.

She came out moments later. The redness in her cheeks had subsided only a little. I pulled her into the men's bathroom and leaned her up against one of the sinks. Her mouth tasted like strawberries. I could feel her nipples harden under her bra as I cupped them in my hands. She went up on her tiptoes and pressed her crotch against my pole, grinding down on to me.I don't know if she forgot where we were or if like me, she just didn't care but she started unbuckling my pants and I grabbed a handful of her hair, exploringly stuck my tongue in her mouth again and guided her down to help free my burgeoning erection. She licked it like a lollipop. It was exactly how I liked it and I didn't even have to give her direction. She was adoring it before devouring it, one hand tickling the underside of my balls and the other climbing up underneath my shirt, over my stomach and chest. I could see the back of her skirt again in the mirror as she knelt before me. Her ass was perfection. I wanted to sink my teeth into it.She was tapping on my abs to get my attention."Down here boy," she said. "I need you to focus right now."She stuck her tongue out, which was like a landing strip for my cock and she slowly guided her lips down my shaft until she got close to the base.

The bathroom door opened and a guy walked in. He started to unbutton his pants for a piss before he saw us.It was the guy who got punched by his girl for checking out Kimberly as she passed by.

Three Drinks, Definitely Three

I uncrossed my legs and smiled. "Panties or no panties?" he asked. "You tell me." I find any attempt at seduction that involves more than three words, anything that requires more negotiation, is almost always ineffective - really, either you are in or out. And him, well, I wanted him in.

He slid his hand slowly up my thigh - smiling and never breaking eye contact. For arriving wanting to be in control I had definitely given over the reins. I won't always let you take the lead, but sometimes giving yourself to the moment, to the man in it, can be the icing on the cake.

He slid his hand higher up, found the lacy panties and ran his fingers up and down the line where their edge met the skin. He could feel me shifting in my seat - waiting for him to move his fingers inside, waiting for him to touch me. But oh no, he made me wait - for the entirety of our second drink he caressed me without really touching me - he made me crazy. He wouldn't let me touch him either, just made me feel the moment.

After the third drink arrived I thought he was going to make me wait, I thought he might mistake my desire and think I wanted to be teased. He didn't. He slid his fingers inside - I was wet and urgent and completely without restraint in that moment.

"Watch your face" he said - "unless you want to have everyone in the restaurant watch you cum." I don't think I cared at that point - I wanted the orgasm so badly I think I would have sat on the table with my legs open just to be touched. Fortunately he had ever so slightly more restraint than I did. He stopped stroking me. "Talk to me, look like we are having a conversation, but tell me what you are feeling."

"I can feel your fingers sliding on my clit, I can feel how wet you make me, I am desperate for you to get me off. " I gasped at him. He started moving his fingers again. "like this Kimberly?" "Oh god, yes, like that"

He increased his pace and I moved my body toward his hand, shifting to meet the rhythm of his fingers. A couple passed close to the table, CJ turned to me and made me talk "so, what are your plans for the weekend?" I could barely form a sentence, but he slowed his hand to motivate me - and oh was it a motivator. I managed to get something vaguely clear out while they were in hearing range.

"You are almost there, aren't you?" "Yes," I gasped. He slid his fingers faster and took me there. I don't know if you have ever had an orgasm in a restaurant both - but, damn, it is hard to be subtle. If you had seen me in that moment, you would have known.

And what happens next: CJ, you tell me....

Cheater Logic

"No, if you fucked him before you were married and you fuck him again after you were married it is not cheating, 'cause he already put his dick in you."

One drink...or two?

I walked into the bar at 7:05. It looked casually late, but in reality it was a practiced move - I wanted him to watch me walk toward him. My skirt swished around my legs as I walked through the doorway, my heels clicking on the tiled entry as I surveyed the room.

Attractive, back booth, alone with two margaritas- it had to be him. I put on my best game face and proceeded across the room. I slid into the booth. "Hello CJ" I purred. "Nice to put a face to the name."

He smiled, utterly confident - staring me down after all my cocky words. "Kimberly." Hmmm, ball in my court - interesting move. Hot move. I met his stare, not budging - I made quite the show of crossing my legs - he remembered the terms. I sipped, "I guess that starts the clock, doesn't it? Convince me I want a second drink." He wanted to play my game? Well, I make the rules.


He laughed a little, showing me very clearly that he wasn't intimidated by my nonsense. He knew that I wasn't sure I wanted to meet someone who read me, someone who had an image of me in their mind already. I wanted to meet someone who could match the real me, not someone who was solely interested in the virtual me. His laugh told me he saw right through Kimberly - and that he wanted to.

He sipped, smiled, put his drink down with a deliberate click and slid closer in the booth. (Who doesn't love a booth?) He was right beside me, not quite touching leg to leg, but close enough to speak directly into my ear. I smiled, I sipped, I waited. He slipped an arm over the back of the booth and started to whisper in my ear.

"I was thinking about you today...about whether it was warm enough for you to wear panties or not..." I could feel his breath lightly on my ear, he was definitely succeeding in luring my closer. "I couldn't decide whether I would prefer no panties or whether I would prefer the little lacy ones you told me about."

I sipped. I laughed, "did you come to a conclusion?" "No, but both have their merits - commando is sexy, but so is sliding lacy panties aside." Oooh, this one knew how to play all right.

Two sips.

As he whispered, he lightly brushed his fingers over the back of my neck. Mmmmm...oh yes indeed. Sip, sip, sip. I wanted that second drink...maybe more.

"You talk a good game...but my drink is almost done, are you ready to play?" He looked around the bar, no one was anywhere near us. The advantage of meeting early enough in the evening that you remain open to later possibilities. He looked me right in the eyes while he unbuttoned his pants, "you tell me."

Now, he had talked a good game. He gave good msn...but I did not think that he was really going to do it. I thought this was one of those guys who wouldn't take a real risk. I was wrong.

I slid my hand up his leg, not taking my eyes off his for a second. When my hand touched the head of his cock he closed his eyes. "careful," I smiled, "do you want everyone to know what we are doing?" I rubbed my fingers around the head, teasing and playing.

The waitress strolled up and we did our best to look respectable for a brief few minutes. CJ smiled at me, "another drink?" "Oh, I think so," I replied. When the waitress left he asked me, "how far are you willing to take this?" I slid closer, my hand moving to his leg, my lips going to whisper in his ear, "why do you think I should stay?"

"You will stay because I know those lovely little panties of yours are wet, because you want someone who can match your game to slide them aside and make you moan. You will stay because you want me to make you cum right here...trying desperately to keep quiet when I touch you. You will stay because you know I can play your game." He was right.

The waitress brought the second round...I thanked her, smiled at CJ and uncrossed my legs...

Just one drink...

CJ took me up on my offer. Tomorrow I will reply...

"I'll meet you for one drink." That's what the errant wife said."That's the only guarantee I can make. And I can drink a margarita very fast if I have to."

You never know if pauses in instant messaging mean that the person is thinking over their reply or if they've suddenly become pulled away by something unexpected.I was thinking over my reply. There was clearly a catch here but a meeting was what I wanted and a meeting was being offered."You're on," I wrote back, "But what's the catch?"

"You seem to understand me well," she wrote. "That's why I'm taking this chance. Are you sure you want to hear the terms?" "I'm sure,"I said.

She was a smart girl, with a fantastic body as evidenced in a few anonymous but familiar photos and she knew exactly what she wanted. This was a competition, and I was being offered a shot."I'm going to wear a skirt like you asked," she said. "I might wear lacy panties, or I might wear none. It depends on how warm a day it is. But even if I don't wear panties, I'll only uncross my legs if you can convince me to. You'll have the time it takes me to down one drink. For my last sip, I expect to be able to reach out under the table and feel your hard cock, released from your pants and pointing straight at me. It can't be a tiny little thing. It has to be standing at attention with a firm and rounded tip."

I considered asking her to go without a bra. How could I get hard at a public place without some kind of incentive? Then I took my hands off the keyboard and looked down at the front of pants. The bulge at my crotch was threatening to bust some buttons down there."No problem," I wrote. "That's easy enough."

"It's not that easy," she wrote back. "But if you can accomplish that, you'll probably convince me to stay for another drink. For each drink I stay for, I'm more and more likely to do something I might regret in the morning."

She gave me the address for a bar with lots of private booth seating.

Tomorrow night at 7pm. Such a long time to wait.

HNT: May I Seduce You?

My offer still stands: write me and tell me your fantasy and I will post about it. Want to write a guest post? Want to write a post with me? It's May and I want to seduce you, tell me what you want from me...

Happy HNT, dirty darlings....don't forget to check out who else is delightfully naked over at Osbasso's...

The First Time

Would you believe I lost my virginity in a bed with black sheets decorated with fluorescent yellow bananas?

There were no flowers, no rose petals, no candles - there was in fact no love. There was certainly affection, there was certainly friendship and there was lust in abundance, but love was not present.

Don't mistake that for a sad beginning - it wasn't sad, it was wonderful. It was erotic and lusty and fun and exactly what I wanted. I was happy to take the jump, ready willing and able as they say. I did not need it to be more then that moment. It was exactly what I wanted.

Has this defined my sexuality - not requiring love to feel lust, not needing commitment to have sex? I understand why some might see it that way, I think instead it represents well the attitude I have always had towards relationships: that I don't need a relationship to legitimize sex and that, although I do adore to love and be loved, that lust and friendship can be enjoyable all on their own.

I was 15. It was a 'bush bash' (ignore obvious pun please), beers with friends in the park. We had been doing a dance around for months: kissing and fooling around at parties, long phone calls. He wasn't my boyfriend but there was an understanding among my girls that he was enough mine that poaching was not allowed. I remember him smiling at me as we were sitting and drinking and laughing - a spring night - the kind that is still crisp but optimistic for warmth. He looked me right in the eye: do you want to go for a walk? Hell yes.

We slipped away into the trees and he kissed me and kissed me. I believe, stereotypically enough, that my back was to a tree. It was the kind of kiss you seemingly only have when you are a teenager - endless and filled with possibility but no probability, no requirement of any kind of ending. It could be more, it could end there.

We got breathless and filled with the moment. He cocked his head with a smile that only he could give, a smile I will always remember with great fondness: my place?

Oh yes indeed.

He snuck me in past his parents to his basement bedroom - a classic boy bedroom if ever there was one - and I just about lost my shit when I saw the bananas on those bedsheets. I mean, really, what did you expect me to do?

I don't remember the particulars: first he did this and then I did that. But I remember his smell, I have to confess it still gets me when I smell it. One of those early 90s CK colognes, Eternity, I think. I remember the smell, the touch and the feeling: excitement, anticipation, delight at finally fucking.

I think it was probably quicker and less finessed than I remember it being, then I have framed it in my memory. I was amazed by the experience, the new feelings, the I can't believe I am doing this. By the new sensations, the initial ouch and then the movement of our bodies together. I remember the after more then the doing - the sense that something had shifted, that this was a new phase. A sense of possibility, a newness.

My more conservative friends have asked me at times if I regret it, if I would change it if I could. The answer: unequivocally no. I have never had regrets and I have never looked back with anything but fondness.

This is the first post that a group of us dirty bloggers have done en masse. For the other first time stories posted today go and see: Ally, Logan, Hubman, Aurore, Andy, Bdenied, Topaz, Library Vixen, Enchanted Mistress, The Duchess, Petal, Lionia, Autumn, and Southern Girl.

If you want in for the next group post drop me an email: polly_amorous at hotmail.

Exposure

I want you to find me. When I check my keywords I look to see if you have picked up on my hints. If you have taken my bait...claimed a piece of me for you.

It is like that look you give me right before you touch me. That feeling of the first touch of your hand on my waist, the first brush of your lips against my neck, the smell of you as you move closer.

I want you to be unable to resist looking at me. I want you to need to find my secrets - to have my words as wet and sticky and naked as you have my body. I want to show myself to you.

It is like your hands running over my hot skin. Under my shirt, up my back, in my pants, on my ass - clutching, unable to stop themselves. The kind of touch that quickens your breath and moistens your skin. The kind of moment you can't step away from.

I want you to run your eyes over my dirty words. I like to think of you reading me: my truth, my stories, my arousal, my wanting.

Picture me standing at the end of your bed, looking at you as you lie there and watch me. Eyes on eyes. Unfastening my bra, slowly sliding my damp panties down my legs, crawling across the bed towards you a dirty smile on my face.

I want you to scroll through my archives: tantalizingly voyeuristic, seeing the reality in my words, seeing me. I want to show you the part of me that scares you just a little, the part you have trouble resisting.

Can you feel me arching towards your hands, your mouth? My hips lifting off the bed - control completely gone. Can you feel how much I want it?

I want you to delve into Kimberly. To uncover the parts of me that not everyone sees. I want you to have me in a way you have never had me before: completely bare, exposed to your eyes, yours for the taking. Naked in body and in soul.

It is like you spreading my legs, me open for you, naked in your bed. Slowly bringing your face closer, wickedly smiling at me. I can feel your breath, can you see me biting my lip in anticipation?

I want to bare myself, show myself, expose myself to your gaze. I want you to see all of me and still want me. I want you to see all of me and want me even more. I want to capture you with my words the way I have tried to capture you with my body.

It is like you flicking your tongue over me, my hand in your hair - intense, all consuming, irresistible.

I want to show myself to you, bring you into this world. I want to show you my secrets, my dirty, myself. I can't imagine a more intimate act.

Best. Ecard. Ever.

Worried your friendly e-bourhood sex blogger is undersexed? Thinking you should help a girl out? Want her to get on her knees and lick the head of your cock like it is a delightful frozen treat? Well, this arrived in my inbox recently...

This, my friends, is the way to seduce an errant wife using only email. Subtlety is lost on me - I don't practice it and I do not have a lot of use for it. Asking to fuck via snarky e-card from a site you know I like = awesome. Well done, well done.

5 Sexy Things

Two of my favourite sexy women, the fabulous Miss Sexie Sadie and the delightful Mlle Aurore tagged me for this one and it is actually my first time being tagged...so you have to promise to be gentle. (Hmm, or not.)

5 Sexy Things About Kimberly:

1. a) My big mouth - Figurative. As you *may* have noted it can get me in trouble and not *everyone* is a fan. But I am alternately and sometimes all together blunt, dirty, outrageous. I say what I think 99% of the time and it is a quality that I have learned to love about myself. And you know what, I think a girl who tells it like it is is very sexy!

1. b) My big mouth - Literal. My lips. Almost always cited by friends and loves as one of my best features. Plump and pink. Perfectly suited for giving you my bedroom smile, kissing you and sucking your cock.

2. My capacity to lose control and give myself over to chaos. Sometimes you reach a point in an evening where you just accept the madness and run with it - I have always embraced those moments. I have a sense of adventure and a sense of abandon that always finds the best kind of trouble. I love to laugh and giggle and tease until we are a heap on the floor. I love to be silly and have ridiculous fun.

3. My enormous capacity for dirty. I want to play your games...

4. My confidence. When I walk with strength, when I speak with confidence - I know it compels people. In those moments when I carry myself with ease, I feel very powerful and very sexy.

5. My mind. I love to debate and play with words. I love to pillow talk about anything and everything. In my opinion, the mind is the best sex organ of all.

For my five sexy picks I am going to tag: Hamlet and Lorali, Wryguy, Me, Petal and Sage.

The Mirror

This is for a certain D who answered my call to email me your fantasy...the same offer still applies. It's May, let me seduce you...

I had just arrived and he took me by the hand and led me to the mirror. The light streamed through the open window, the curtain fluttered in the breeze and - as always - my eyes were full of questions, looking to control the moment through knowledge. He shook his head: "always wondering, always pushing...just let the moment be."

I nodded my acquiescence.

He turned my body so I was looking directly at my reflection - I could see myself from head to foot: hair down, shoes kicked off, the flirty summer dress I had worn with optimism that it would be removed.

He met my eyes and smiled, putting his hands on my shoulders - warm skin on warm skin. His hands gently pushed the straps of my sundress down and his lips followed where his hands had been, kissing gently - almost imperceptibly softly. He explored my shoulders with his mouth, working his way up my neck. I leaned back against him and let him take me where he wanted.

So much of adulterous sex is fucking: hard and overeager and out of control. This could not have been any further from that. The leisure in his touch, the softness of his lips - it was unlike any other lover. He took control not by yanking or insisting or by dominance, but by captivating softly, by insisting with his eyes and his hands that I give myself to him in that moment.

He unzipped the back of my dress and I watched it pool at my feet. My strapless bra and panties were an uncharacteristically pure white lace, seemingly perfectly suited to this moment. The white of my legs stood in erotic contrast against the dark of his pants - our reflection almost a black and white photo.

His hands ran over my body: my hips, my waist, my breasts - sliding my bra down and teasing my nipples as I watched in the mirror. I tried to close my eyes and just feel, but he broke the silence of the moment for the first time: "No," he whispered, "eyes open." I listened - putting myself completely in his hands.

He ran his hand down the front of my panties and smiled as my hips pushed out to meet his fingers. He slid his fingers up and down, teasing me over the lace, smiling at me devilishly.

When I finally moaned he gave over, sliding his fingers inside the top of my panties - finding me more than wet, more than ready, more than wanting. He stroked me and I could not hold back the noises I was making - arching into his fingers, licking my lips and desperate for more.

He used his knee to push my legs further apart and I watched us in the mirror: him fully clothed - eyes all over my body, me wearing only white panties and his hand - mussed and completely his in that moment.

He caught my eyes, "look at me" he smiled - and I did. How could I not? I held his eyes as he increased his rhythm, held his eyes as my hands gripped his legs, held his eyes as my hips thrust forward into his fingers. He stared into my eyes, captured my gaze and felt me move against his body. He held my eyes relentlessly as the electricity of the moment held me on the edge of orgasm. He started into my eyes, forcing me to acknowledge him as my lover - as the source of the incredibly pleasure - as I bit my lip, arched forward into his hand and came.

I was limp in the intensity of the moment, limp with satisfied lust and fantasy fulfilled.

May I Seduce You?

Ok, so who wants to play a dirty game? (All hands go up.) Wow, all of you eh? Unsurprising, really.

Hmmm, alright then: who wants to play a dirty game with me? Ah, fewer of you - I should have been more specific.

Ah, darlings, spring is in the air and I am looking for trouble. What else is new?

There is something about this time of year: getting out the pretty shoes, wearing the little summer dresses, that makes me think of someone pulling a dress over my head and tossing me onto their bed in a way that my mittens just do not.

In the spirit of spring here is my suggestion: For the month of May I want to indulge in fantasy and fun - one a day for 31 days. But, as much fun as I can have by myself...I want you to, um, well, play with me.

So, here is what I am thinking. Some of the fantasies will be mine: I already have a few saved up for you. But, I have many days for which things are not written.

Want me to write something in particular? Email me with a suggestion, a scenario, a wish list and I will write and post.

Don't have a blog and want to guest post here? (with credit to you or anonymously): email me and let's set it up.

Want to spend the day each writing a dirty line and then emailing it back and forth - either about each other or in general? Oh let's, it's May and I am feeling frisky.

Other bloggers: want to start with a two word or sentence concept and each write a post on the same theme (black panties, spank me big boy, the kitchen table) - lets write and post in unison.


It's May and I am feeling frisky: let's play....polly_amorous at hotmail.