Slut

When you are fucking me do you ever think of the ones who got here first? Does it give you pause?

I know you and you know me. In you I see the same yearning, the same desire, the same instinct that drives me. When you see yourself reflected back can you handle it? Have you already classified me in your mind - tucked me neatly away, pathologized: daddy issues, low self esteem, desperate? 'Cause, really, none of that applies.

I amuse and intrigue you - my lust, my blunt requests, my stories, my predatory instincts. An amusing show though it might be, it all certainly does take place against a backdrop of censure, of taboo. You know that girls like me are only good for one thing. I am that type of girl - you know it and I know it. It got you here between my sheets, but while you are here is it in your head?



I tell you what I said, what I did, what I liked - but, really, what do you think? Do you want me to be less of a whore and more your whore? A slut in your bed only? I think you want to control my lust, to be the only one that makes me this hot, this bothered, this wild. Truth is, ain't gonna happen.

Do you need to own me? Do you need me to be yours? Can you handle the fact that I match you in desire, in lust, in numbers?

You think I'm a nice girl, but we both know I am not the nice girl that doesn't do those type of things. 'Cause I do. Once, twice, three times...a lady? Maybe not. Ironically, you have a wife - and you want a mistress, but you seem to want us both to be pure, good, chaste, just yours.

You say you want a girl who know what she wants - but, really, truthfully, honestly - does it give you pause? You know what I think? I think you want a girl who wants what you want...when you want it.

And you know what? If it troubles you that doesn't concern me. 'Cause, honey, if it does, you can see yourself out. I may be a whore, but I'm not going to be your whore.

I'm my own whore ;)

Errant Road Trip

Darlings, I am getting the hell out of dodge. It is vacation time and I am hopping in the car and running away...


I have some posts lined up to cover the next couple of weeks, but I won't be making the rounds as usual. I look forward to reading up on your exploits on my return.


Misbehave for me while I am gone, won't you?

HNT: I Want it Bad...

I don't know about you, but I am two or three sheets to the wind - and I don't mind saying that I am in need of some raunchy fucking. I want it on my back, under me, beside me, in my mouth - and I want it right fucking now...

Dirty, sweaty, playful, hard, hot...are you in?

Happy HNT, darlings.

Fucking Him

I walked into the room, tank and panties and smile. He tried to gently lay me down but I was having none of that. I pushed him by the shoulders and rolled him back on the bed, "my turn" I almost growled, "I want to make you cum so hard you can't stop from screaming."

This man, this traveller, has tightly reined control over himself at all times. He won't give over to the moment entirely, he keeps himself slightly out of the encounter, out of the storm of lust, out of me. Not out of lack of fondness, not out of lack of interest - out of habit partially and likely a fair percentage of self-preservation - not wanting to lose himself in possibility where there is none. But I need more than that...I need to get lost in you and with you.

He smiled at me and raised his brows, our sex and been good, satisfying, but...vanilla, to this point, reined. Not that there is anything wrong with vanilla, but that night I was looking for more. We had fucked a handful of times, but we had never had that moment where restraint and thought are replaced by heat and mindless desire. I wanted to bring him there. He was deliberately separating himself from it and I needed to connect. I needed to be joined in abandon - I wanted to ramp it up - make it hot and dirty and get lost in it. I didn't need him to lose himself in possibility, but I did need him to join me in the moment completely, to give himself over to me in just that small way.

I straddled him and I could feel him through his pants - "hmmm," I smiled, "you like the idea don't you?" I leaned in and I kissed him with every dirty instinct in me - a kiss that demanded. I held his arms to his side, hands on muscles, on back, shoulders and arms, lips and tongues moving over each other, sliding to neck and lower...

"Do you know how much I want to fuck you?" I murmured as my tongue licked his ear, "do you know when I lick your ear like this I imagine my tongue on the end of your cock?"

He pulled his arms free and put them on my hips, pushing me against his cock. God, I thought, I bet I am making his jeans wet through my panties. I ran my tongue over his body while I took off his clothes: chest, nipples, stomach, thighs. Flicking my tongue over him, taking him briefly in my mouth.

I stood up and deposited his clothes on the floor, pulling my tank over my head and sliding my panties down my legs. I looked at him: "sit up" I told him "back to the headboard." He did - and he waited, willing to give over...

I crawled across the bed to get to him, straddling his legs while I looked him in the eyes. I kissed him again, our kiss intense, anticipatory, hot.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" I murmured against his lips. "Yes" he smiled as he moved to my neck, pausing to lick my collarbone while he ran his hands on my back, "yes I do."

I leaned back and slid down onto him slowly. Eye to eye, chest to chest - savouring the moment. Slowly sliding back and forth, up and down. I liked the look of him - head back, eyes on me, hazy with the lust of the moment.

Unlike so many other men in that position he did not grab my hips and direct me - this was my game and he was going to let me play it. I put my hands on his shoulders and I met his eyes and rode him, sliding up and down, shifting my hips forward and slightly to catch the right angle. My breath caught - god, it felt good.

I liked fucking him, and I liked that he let me. I wanted to use my body to take him over the edge of the tight mental control that he had so far used with me. I wanted to cross the line where he was conscious of the moment, to get him lost with me, in the moment, in me.

"Oh god," he muttered as I increased my pace. "Oh god, oh fuck, oh god." "Yeah, (gasp)," I answered as eloquently as I could.

And then we got lost, we crossed to the point where only that second, that instinct, exists...sounds, murmurings, feelings. Sticky, hazy, intense and overwhelming. Breath catching, hands clenching, skin dewy. Him. Me. Us.

I bit my lip and sped up, reaching back underneath us to touch him..always guaranteed to push him over the edge...and it did. He looked me in the eyes, tightened his arms around me and came with a fierce arch of his hips, utterly lost in the moment.

I smiled.

HNT: Shy

There is a better shot from this session, but I can't use it - it shows too much of my face. I hesitated before deciding to reject it outright. I figured, what are the chances of someone recognizing me? Then I remembered how many of these suckers get downloaded every week and thought the better of it. So, that one will remain in limited circulation: the hubby, a few friends, the always tolerant Perv who gets the dubious honour of pre-screening my HNTs when I am not sure about an angle or a concept.

But it is interesting, isn't it? This game of reveal and hide. The peek-a-boo we play with each other? Some of you I know, but I couldn't recognize. And yet so many people who know us in person could not recognize the people we are here. I refer to you when I talk to my husband: "Sexie Sadie wrote...Southern Girl says...Hubman and Veronica went on a trip and fucked in the window..." - you are utterly real to me and yet you could walk by me without ever knowing.

So, once again I show you my breasts in lieu of my face. And later this week I am sure I will show you my soul without telling you my name. It's a funny world we inhabit...but oh do I love it here.

Happy HNT, my loves. Go and pay a visit to Osbasso and see who else is playing.

Group Post: The Last Time

If I had known this would be our last time I would have tried to capture it somehow. Preserved it in the recesses of my mind, folded away like a love letter.

I would have tried to capture your smell, your touch, your feel - the sensation of you. The salty taste of your sweat on my tongue, licked from your willing skin. The sounds of making love to you: moans and gasps and traded words now lost in the haziness of remembered passion. I would have tried to collect it all somehow - selfishly gathered it to myself to remind me of you.

I would have touched you more deliberately, felt the moment more. Made every offhand touch an offering, every look a picture for framing. Created me and you in that moment as a future reminder to us both.

If I had known we would say goodbye I would have made it more than just another stolen night, I would have sought to create a striking memory. I would have chosen the setting with more care to properly commemorate the occasion: candles, black lace, deliberation - a fuck funeral for our lust. I would have tried to emblazon myself in your consciousness, force myself into your soul - to forever be a part of you. To be more than another in a list of conquests, another other woman.

If I had known that night marked the beginning of the resistance of the irresistible - the end of the craving I thought could never be fulfilled - then I would have taken pictures in my mind - your eyes, your smile that promises, the look on your face when you cum.

If I had known those stolen hours would mean the end of temptation, the end of the illogical drive - the end of furtive glances, shared secrets and trivial but beautiful moments - then I would have demanded my skin capture you. The feel of my thighs wrapped around your hips, the feel of the pinch of your hands on my shoulders urging me on, the feel of your lips on the back of my neck in quiet tenderness.

If I had known this night, this moment, would be reason's Pyrrhic victory over lust, reality's conquering of desire, the needs of real life vanquishing the wants of fantasy - I would have still let you go, but I would have made sure to send more of me with you...

Today's post is another group post, check out the other bloggers that are playing: Danimo, Hubman, Sheba, Bdenied, Enchanted Mistress, Petal, Aurore, Topaz, Ronjazz, Autumn

HNT: Legs and Panties

Kiss me. Run your fingers over my collarbone, my shoulders, my nipples. Lie me down and slide your fingers over the front of my panties, feeling them get wet, feeling how much I want you.

Slide your hands inside my panties, rub my clit as I arch into you. Watch me. Look at me. Touch me as I get closer and closer...as I look in your eyes and you bring me over the edge.

Making me yours even more than I already am. Claiming me with my orgasm.

Feel how wet those panties are? It's you. Slide them down now...your turn.

Really, darlings, I'm back..this week I have a cavalcade of smut planned for you. See you soon. For now swing by Osbasso's and see who else is playing the naked game this week...and drop by the other HNT.

HNT: Under Silk

Silk on Skin: what could be better? Well, maybe skin on skin...

I apologize, I have been remiss this week...I have an inbox full of unread and unanswered emails and not a single post since last Thursday - I also have a huge project due in a couple of days that is, thankfully, just about done. This half-nekked Thursday I will be working in a coffee shop to take away the temptation of the internet and, because it amuses me to do so, I will be wearing that silk scarf in the picture. You never know, I could just be that neighbourhood soccer mom you see. So, if you see a blonde girl with a pink and silver scarf do stop by and say hello, won't you?


I will return with naughtiness enough to amuse you all very soon, darlings, I miss you - and I do have some tales to tell...


In the meantime, Happy HNT to all of you!! Make sure to check out Osbasso and the other HNT.