Linda Sue's Diary

Girl love I

2012-02-07T14:06:00.000-08:00

Readers want to know about my experiences in tongue-worshipping. Here's a quick rundown:

Pam was my first. She was my suite-mate for a year in college. In a world of Courtneys, Amandas, Ambers, Tiffanys and Jennifers, we were Xers with baby boomer names. We always got along well and talked about guys incessantly. I was just getting started. Pam had been hooking up since she was 15, so I knew she was way ahead of me. Looks: She had the most lovely straight blond hair, angel face and tight body to die for.

One night, we had both been dumped by guys we were seeing and sitting on the sofa commiserating over a bottle of wine. She leaned over and kissed me. I can't say I had ever been sexually attracted to a woman before, but when her warm, soft mouth connected with mine it all changed. I didn't pull back. Pretty soon, we were in a mad makeout session and she was fingering my (very wet) pussy.

I was a virgin this way but always up for a challenge, so I undressed her and got on my knees. Her pussy was an "inny" with a very light dusting of pubic hair. She was extremely wet, too, and I loved her scent. I no doubt clumsily parted her outer lips to find a sweet pink blossom waiting for my tongue. It took her a long time to heat up to a full orgasm — she warned me. But, no problem. I was turned on and fascinated and licked away. She stroked my hair and called out my name until she was grinding her pelvis into my face. Then she let out this long, low moan and came. She returned the favor in the bedroom. "You have a beautiful pussy," she said, the first time I had ever heard that. She was aroused by my natural red hair, too. Pam had made love to other girls and her expertise was immediately evident. My previous lovers had given perfunctory licks, if that, before mounting me and pumping away for their own pleasure.

Pam took her time, kissing the insides of my legs, working her tongue all around my labia and inside me, then licking my clitoris with ever-increasing pressure. My feet were burning and I lost track of everything not connected to her tongue and my pussy. She held my hands tight as I let out scream after scream. It was my first mature orgasm. I thought later, "Wow! So that's an orgasm." Before that, I realized, I had baby orgasms from fingering myself or being fucked by some muscular, in-a-hurry young man. But nothing like this.

We held each other all night, in-between more of this wonderful new thing in my life. She sat on my face and we sixty-nined, both firsts for me. The next morning, I didn't feel any guilt, just extra horniness. For the rest of the year, we continued dating guys but also periodically ending up in bed together. I still get aroused thinking of her flawless skin and lovely hair. She's married with children now, but we still stay in touch.

After that, while I preferred men, I knew I could enjoy girl-love, too. And how.

Licking pussy

2012-01-23T14:31:00.000-08:00

Things worked out well for my colleague. She followed my advice on fellatio, given verbally and with the Stakeout Banana, as we call it, and her boyfriend came after two minutes and said it was the best blowjob he ever had. She enjoyed it, too, and I can see her confidence growing. My bet is she'll want to try out her new-found talent elsewhere, not that I am encouraging such slutty Linda Sue behavior.

Ah, but there's a rub. Her boyfriend doesn't like cunnilingus. He does it, a few licks "like he's licking an ice-cream cone," and then he wants to climb on top and fuck her. This won't do. How many times do I have to say that oral sex goes both ways, must go both ways. Being a master cunnilinguist is a requirement to be my lover (beyond a quick romp where we never get that far, say where you bend me over and fuck me and we never see each other again...oh, sorry, I lost my train of thought).

So, pay attention men:

DO learn to love her vagina: The shape of her lips, their prominence, her scent, her juices, your juices mingled together, her pubic hair, perineum and anus. Women can tell if you're really into it, or if you're just doing it out of duty. If you're really into her private parts, it will make her more sensual and open to all sorts of fun.

DO tell her she's beautiful once you're "down there." She is.

DO take your time. I love it when a man works on my breasts a long time, then licks and kisses my abdomen and belly button, barely caressing his face across my pussy...then sucking my toes and kissing up each leg, up to my pussy and, again, barely touching my pussy before getting down to business.

DON'T go immediately for the clitoris. This may be too intense for many women. And you're cheating yourself out of much more...

DO spent time licking and gently sucking on her pussy lips Run your tongue around them. Revel in every detail (the right lip is bigger than the left, etc.).

DO tongue-fuck her. A man burying his face in my pussy and running his tongue in and our is sometimes enough in itself to drive me over the edge. Of course, his nose is also pushing against my clit as he does this.

DO use your hands. Caress her belly and legs, hold her hips, and as things really heat up (pay attention now) hold her hands. Most of us want that hand-holding connection.

DO learn the right approach for her clit. Start with a very light circling of it with your tongue and see how she responds. Some women want only that. Others will respond in a way that tells you it's okay to apply more pressure. Some like it when you suck their clits once they're aroused (me, among them). Vary things: Circle-lick her clit and go back to her lips or tongue-fucking her. Try licking her perineum and see if that pleases her. Keep coming back to the clitoris. Use different edges of your tongue: The tip, flat edge, side.

DO follow her responses and act accordingly. She'll relax more and let you in, set a rhythm, respond, get more and more aroused. When she starts to come, DON'T STOP! Keep going. You may want to let up the pressure a little. I'd probably be grinding my pelvis into your face.

Understand cunnilingus is different for most women than a blowjob is for men. Any guy wants his cock sucked. Many women have been conditioned to think "it's dirty down there," or they are afraid of losing control. So there's a major trust issue involved with many. You have to show you're trustworthy. Among other things that means being patient, slowly seducing her by kissing and licking her legs and belly, etc. Once you're good, you can move on to all sorts of fun: Face sitting, using toys, sixty-nine, licking her while another man fucks her. But it all begins with knowing expert tongue worship.

Have more to add? Please comment.

Sucking cock

2012-01-13T14:40:00.000-08:00

New Years was quite nice. I'll leave it at that. For some reason, I don't want to blog about the Professor, at least not yet. Few of my men know that I do a sex blog and tell all. A couple of them knew and even helped me remember some details. For them, it was kinky and a turn-on. Most men wouldn't find that true, and even fewer women. I can't imagine Wendy and Pam, among others, would want all you guys masturbating to our romps together.

It's been so busy at work, Dear Diary. I did have fun with a young female colleague while we were spending some very boring hours in a car watching something I can't tell you about. We started talking about sex (yes, women do), and she was curious about how to give a great blowjob. Her boyfriend is ten years older and more experienced. Although she says he's very kind and taken with her, she knows she's "just not doing it right." We had a banana, and I showed her a few tricks until the thing started coming apart in my mouth. It reminded me, however, that oral sex is really important to men — do it well, and he'll never forget you.

It reminded me that the Fellatrices posts I did are lost forever. So I won't be repeating myself if I give a few tips:

1. DO drop your hang-ups. It's not "nasty" down there. If it really is, have him take a shower and give him a little talk about personal hygiene (or get a new bf).

2. DO play with his cock before you ever put it in your mouth. Stroke it, masturbate him, caress his balls, all while you're kissing him. Work down his body, kissing and licking his chest, nipples, belly button, thighs. One thing I like to do is to go down his body rubbing my (still!) tight, pert breasts across his chest and belly. I also let my hair fall on his skin and caress him. Make him want it.

3. DO praise his cock (honestly).

4. DO vary your technique. Maybe start out by taking it lightly in your mouth once...make him want it!...before licking the shaft and head in different ways. Take your time. Break it up by (gently!) licking his balls and taking them in your mouth while you stroke his penis. As he responds more and more...

5. DO take him fully in your mouth, in and out. Start lightly and increase the sucking pressure. The sweet spot is the area near where the shaft meets the head. Vary the amount you take in your mouth and the speed with which you suck him. If you're not ready for him to come and he's about there, slow down.

6. DO use your hands. I finally focus on sucking (harder and harder) the head and top of the shaft while I am moving my hand up and down on the rest of his shaft. Maybe with my other hand, I am stroking his balls. Note: When my hair is long, I pull it to one side over my shoulder so it doesn't get in the way. And, get comfortable yourself.

7. DO back off the pressure as he starts to come, so his orgasm doesn't become intensely painful. Make some noise.

8. DO swallow. If you're one of those rare women who really get nauseous from semen, then spit it out afterwards (a towel nearby).

9. DON'T let him hold your head down or force you, unless you're into that. Know how to let him know what you want, too. Gently remove that hand.

10. DON'T make loud, cow-like sucking sounds. Learn to breathe through your nose. Anyway, you want the maximum pressure applied.

11. DON'T be impatient. Some guys come fast, some need time. It's all good.

12. DON'T be afraid to be kinky and spontaneous. I love to greet a lover at the airport by sucking his cock in the parking garage. I've sucked cocks outdoors, beside a bar... Even a taste makes him want more.

And, keep learning. It took me years to perfect my "feather" blowjob technique. Don't be afraid to ask him how he likes it, either. Ladies and gay/bi gents: Add your advice in the comments section.

Doggy delight

2011-12-30T13:10:00.001-08:00

I survived Christmas with my family in Seattle. I got a hotel room, not wanting to stay with my parents and sure as hell not wanting to stay with Amber and Justin. I did see Chris one night and we had a romp for old times.

He took the initiative and I was just along for the ride. But the big event was neither me riding him or him riding me. I dressed in sheer white stockings and white garter belt for him, and he fucked me from behind for what seemed like an hour. I must admit, he was a master. He started very slowly, sliding in inch by inch even though I was already sopping wet from our earlier fucking. Then he fell into this amazing slow rhythm interspersed with hard, fast thrusts.

My butt was in the air, his strong hands gripping my hips. My head was down on the sheets and my hands in front steadying myself. It wasn't easy, and not just from when he was really banging me. When he was going slow, I could feel him swiveling his hips to push his cock in from different angles. Two little orgasms hit me about halfway through and I started pushing frantically against him. But he wouldn't let me really get off.

He kept his hands firmly on my hips, controlling the motion. Other times, I felt his warm hands caressing my thighs and my back. I was shaking from the stimulation of his cock in and out of me. I remember multiple gasps, moans and "fuck me!" coming out of my mouth. Gripping and clawing the sheets came naturally, not as theater. Finally he started a steady, faster tempo, faster and harder, slamming into me. Colors were shooting into the sides of me eyes and my feet started burning. I knew I was a goner and one of the most intense orgasm of my life exploded out of my pussy. At the same moment, I felt his big cock pulse, he let out a yell and came inside me.

I fell forward, whimpering. He fell on top, his cock still in me, his torso sweaty. Yow-ser.

Now I'm back in D.C. The Professor and I are going out for New Year's Eve.

As to the commenter who said I should consider moving out of field work: There's some pressure for that. I'm not 25 any more, except maybe sexually. But I have some skills that are unusual and highly valued (no, not blowing every guy in town). So, we'll see.

Christmas eve thoughts

2011-12-24T09:00:00.000-08:00

By the time this posts, I'll be on my way to the West Coast for the family Christmas celebration. After the year I've been through, I can't say I'm looking forward to the stress this visit will involve (although its a different kind of pressure than I faced elsewhere). I hope all have a lovely and sexually hot holiday season!

So I'm trying not to be my usual slutty self in this new...is it a relationship? We've been on four dates now. I let him kiss me on the second date and we made out on the third. For the fourth, I went up to his place for a nightcap and I let him take off my top and make love to my breasts — and then I gently stopped things, just like I nice girl. I haven't worn stockings and garters, only panty hose.

Part of me has no idea why I am doing this; all I can say is that things happened during my absence from this blog that were very intense, and I need life slow and easy for awhile. The man is a little older, handsome in a shaggy/tweedy way, tall, smart. I can feel his cock against me, pushing at the fabric of his trousers, when we kiss. I'll call him the Professor. He's very attractive — and safe. I feel bad to go through the usual lies about working for the Agriculture Department blah blah blah, but those are the rules. So I am taking it slow.

It's not fair. I can get Chad to fuck me anytime I wish. I turn him away most of the time, but sometimes I just have to get off and get fucked. I wonder what his little girlfriend, Lauren, would say if she knew? Am I a bitch for betraying another woman this way with "her man"? No. She knows what she's getting with him. He can be very appealing but he's also narcissistic in the way only a guy with a big penis can be. And if she whines about the size of his cock, doesn't give him as much sex as he needs and doesn't like fellatio...you get the idea. In the consensual sexual battlefield, there are no victims, only volunteers.

p.s., for you gun boys, I have a new toy: An FN Five-Seven!

Back in the USA

2011-12-06T13:20:00.000-08:00

First, don't ask what I've been doing. You know I can't tell you.

Second, maintaining a sex blog is hard work. I've been doing this since 2007, and it's amazing how many blogs have fallen by the wayside. The biggest loss is the Fellatrices. This started out with one woman as the Fellatrix. Then she invited me and a couple of other female bloggers to contribute. I did at least a dozen posts and they were the most popular. Now the site is gone, as is all my writing. So I'll have to catch you up on my oral sex essays if I can remember them.

In the meantime, if any sex bloggers would like to share links shoot me an email. I'm especially interested in women and real stories, not fantasies.

D.C. is the way I like it, slightly rainy and in the fifties. I can wear suits again. Being back in the office has its ups and downs. I'm also back in the soap-operas of my life. Chad is still playing emotionally unavailable to his girlfriend, Lauren. He's a dozen years or more younger than me, and even though I kicked him to the curb before I went on my long assignment, I fucked him the other night. I'm feeling very fortysomething and, truth be told, it's flattering to have an attractive young man want to bed me. So I gave his big cock a long, agonizing (to him) blowjob before bringing him off in my mouth and tasting that thick semen as it rolled down my throat. Chad being Chad, he was hard again in no time, and I rode him to a nice orgasm. This is going nowhere, but I was horny.

I also spent a night with Wendy. Her effort to patch up her marriage has failed (no surprise) and her affair with the married man continues to disappoint her (no surprise). Girl love has its rewards in cuddling, patience and the forbidden (if mom could only see her slutty little daughter licking an older woman's pussy). Wendy and I both came multiple times. But again, this is going nowhere. I'm just a port in the storm, but at least I get off.

At my advanced age, it's nice to still be hit on. I'm going on a real date this weekend with a guy my age.

Lovers who thrill us

2011-11-28T13:47:00.000-08:00

There's no getting around a distinction between the lovers in our lives: The ones who were in a broad category ranging from disastrous to fun, and the ones who really thrilled us. I suppose the only exceptions are those who married their first sweetheart and stayed that way, or had a succession of duds (who's to blame, there?).

Thrilling lovers stay in the memory. They still tingle my pussy. They're threatening to men who want to know about my past, even if the lover I mention was years ago. Men (and women, especially) have a radar for that lilt in your voice when you mention those special ones. They're not even the ones you want to marry; often far from it.

I lost my virginity to my high-school boyfriend, Mike, my first summer home from college back east. He was sweet, gentle and everything a woman could want in her first. But that same summer, while I was in Seattle, I ran across one of the school hoods, Steve. He was a year older, and although his parents had money, he was a bad boy in nearly every way. I let him pick me up at a supermarket and take me to his emphatically messy apartment in one of the city's sleazier neighborhoods.

Not knowing what to expect, I didn't have to worry about virginal fumbling or romance. He barely got the door closed before he roughly took me in his arms and started kissing me, one hand running up and down my legs and up in my blouse. This went on for some time even though I was dripping wet with excitement. He raised me up against the wall, slid my panties aside and pushed his cock inside so hard it nearly knocked the wind out of me. It was night, the lights were on. When I turned my head, I saw a man in a nearby apartment staring at us. This only added to the turn-on. I came almost immediately, his firm hands holding my teenage ass up against the wall.

I didn't think about Mike once.

Steve never sent me flowers, never took me on a real date. He just fucked the daylights out of me, teaching me every kind of position. Even with foreplay, his style was to take me, not seduce me. Somehow with his bad-boy charisma this was not just okay, but a major attraction. He obviously was experienced and could fuck me for an hour before he decided to come. He taught me how to really give a blowjob. We did several public sex acts, including him fucking me on a blanket in a fairly crowded park. Somehow we avoided arrest.

Meanwhile, I was doing "normal" date-y things with Mike and having sex with him, too. More than once, we had sex with Steve's come inside me, and a few times Steve fucked me after I had been with Mike. Neither knew about the other. I was young enough and still enough in my family's orbit that I felt guilty and kept wrestling with breaking things off with Steve and tearfully confessing to Mike. But it never happened. Whenever I saw Steve, I just melted and if he wanted me down on his frayed rug getting fucked from behind with my clothes halfway off, no problem. He loved the way I was noisy, horny and responsive.

Still he definitely had the power in the "relationship." Once he made a passing reference to remembering me as a cheerleader, but otherwise I was not that important to him. This is strange, because I love romance, compliments and romance. But with this hood, he fucked me with such an athletic prowess and the ever-present whiff of danger that I went with it. I'm also sure in retrospect he was juggling me with other women, but I'm confident I was a good lover for him. The power gradually started to shift my way.

It was never going to last. I broke up with him at the end of the summer and went back to college. Mike, too. We were too far apart and I had a world open to me. Last I heard, Mike was settled down in a corporate job with two children and Steve was in prison. Neither outcome surprises me. But even thinking about my hood still thrills me. I'd be interested in your experiences in this regard.

No, I'm not dead

2011-08-25T19:18:00.000-07:00

But I'll be out of country until the fall. In the meantime, enjoy the archives. Use this thread to tell me your dirtiest, most forbidden experiences. Wish I could tell you more about me right now, but you know how it goes...

Linda Sue

p.s., Dirty Debbie is blogging again. Hot stuff. Check it out.

Note to readers

2011-06-23T14:06:00.001-07:00

While I'm out of the country, keeping up with the blog is proving impossible. Enjoy the archives and use this post to tell me your sexual adventures, fantasies and questions.

Foreign affairs

2011-05-06T17:16:00.000-07:00

Things have been very busy lately. 'Nuff said. I was in an airport overseas last week and saw my first boyfriend in a bar. He didn't see me and I didn't make an effort to connect. I was stunned to think of all the years that had gone by. He's turned into a handsome man and was wearing a suit, nursing something that looked like bourbon alone. I wondered what he did now: A contractor? Working for an oil company? I thought of learning how to suck cock on him, those nights in his car in high school. I never did the hookups that were common then — we were real "steadies," which is more and more of an anomaly. And the first time we fucked. It was a sweet memory. I moved on into a secure area of the terminal where he couldn't see me. In my mind, I'm as horny as when I was seventeen, stroking his cock, putting it in my mouth, tasting semen for the first time, hearing his entreaties to fuck him. I hope the years have been good to him.

My sister, Amber, forwarded me a link from home (Seattle). It was about a girl who was picked up on Aurora Avenue by a guy who wanted to pay her to tie her up. Only my parents know what I really do for a living. Amber knows I'm a slut, and I really think she believes I'm a prostitute. Anyway, the dude turned out to have a torture room and the girl was lucky to get away alive. "Are you going to kill me?" she asked him. "We'll see," he said. Lots of sickos out there. I wondered: How many men my age go to prostitutes? There's so much free stuff out there. But from the trade along Aurora and every other similar avenue in America, the answer must be: A lot. A few women are like my friend Mary Beth, high-end call girls making good money. But that's the exception. Most are feeding a drug habit, many have kids and lots don't even like sex. My mother was so fucked up sexually, I've wondered if my dad found release with a prostitute — but not for long. Who wonders about their parents' sex lives.

Once I was back in country, Amber calls. She's crying. Confesses to me she's been having an affair with a man who goes to her mega-church. He's married, of course. She knows her husband Justin has cheated on her. But she was "seduced" by this married man and now they see each other at least every week. Between her worries that she's going to hell, she wanted advice. It's very strange giving your sister blowjob tricks. Letting her know it's okay if she feels aroused and has an orgasm, that it's not the devil.

Amber is a pretty girl, younger than me and the looker in the family. Dark, straight hair, very busty. She's kept her looks through having three children. There she is out in the suburbs, going to church and hearing the preacher talk about sex and sin, and getting horny hearing all that fornication talk. Nobody's perfect. We were never close and this conversation is the closest we've ever been. It made me sad for her that she can't enjoy just her sexuality. Lord knows Justin deserves it, as long as it doesn't blow up and hurt my nieces and nephews.

I'm sure we'll talk again. The guy likes to fuck her from behind. "It makes me feel like an animal," she said. A lilt in her voice.

Tips for women, part 1

2011-04-21T14:06:00.000-07:00

What's good for the guys is good for the girls. So I'll offer some advice to the distaff. As the comments on the previous post showed, not everyone will agree. These are just my takes after a lifetime of screwing.

1. DO know your bottom line and act accordingly. Do you want to play with no strings. Really? Do you need a transitional man to fuck your brains out while you forget your EX. Are you wanting marriage and children? Are you acting out of a ticking biological clock? You need to know and act accordingly. If your fuck-buddy doesn't want to get married and you stick around when that's your real desire — blame yourself. Same thing if you marry some guy who you think will produce good children, then end up unhappy because he has nothing in common with you and/or is a jerk.

2. DO praise his cock. Don't be insincere and tell a little guy he's huge, but there's always something nice and real to say. Men love this.

3. DO give blowjobs and swallow. Learn how to suck cock. He will be putty in your hands.

4. DO fuck him back. Don't just lie there. Work your pelvis, run your legs against his body, wrap them around him, get in the rhythm in whatever position, flip over and ride him. You'll have fun, too.

5. DO tell him what you like, and what you need so you can enjoy yourself and come.

6. DO be open to things. That doesn't mean you should submit to anal sex, for example, if you've tried it and hated it. Be up front about that. But don't shut yourself off from new experiences, much less be like some women I've known who refuse to let men perform cunnilingus on them. And remember, men judge the quality of the relationship to a huge degree on the sex! Sure, get him to be a communicator, etc. But don't forget...sex.

7. DO dress sexy. For me, that means miniskirts, stockings, garterbelts, merrywidows and corsets, etc. For a special guy: My cheerleader outfit.

8. DON'T fake an orgasm. Ever.

9. DON'T tell him the actual number of lovers you've had unless 1) It's really a fling and you don't care or 2) You really get to know him and he can handle it if you've had more than a handful. Or maybe you have actually had a handful; then you're safer. "Who was your best?" "You, baby."

10. DON'T ask him a question about his sexual past if you can't handle the answer.

Tips for men, part 1

2011-04-11T13:14:00.000-07:00

And just when you thought this was becoming a porn site, back to prose. (And, by the way, some of the pics here are indeed me — you just have to use your imagination as to which ones.) I am sorry to report, after much research, that most men are mediocre-to-bad lovers. My girlfriends tell me this about their husbands and boyfriends, too. But all is not lost. Be a lifetime learner. Here are ten pieces of advice.

1. DO be a great kisser. Kissing is very important to women, much more so than to most men. It's more than a prelude, more than foreplay. Learn to kiss her as she wants to be kissed; learn the different rhythms and styles. A light kiss and nose-to-nose rubbing can be a great start. Take her face gently into your hands. Use your tongue gradually, teasingly. Spend time with this. Kiss her beforehand, during the act and afterward. As she opens up, kiss her deeply, let your tongues play together. Kiss her ears, neck...wrists are very sensitive. Act as if you could spend the whole night kissing her.

2. DO spend time with foreplay. There are always quickies and up-against-the-wall or bent-over-the-sofa fucks. But usually, women need to be warmed up, and the right foreplay is as important as fucking itself. Learn how she likes to have her breasts loved on — I like my pert nipples to be sucked hard, but not every woman does; some have such sensitive nipples the wrong kind of sucking can be painful. Circle the nipple with your tongue and go from there. Nibble on her belly, lick her navel and suck her toes, lick her legs, suck her fingers. Skin on skin. A light touch across her body.

3. DO take your time.

4. DO learn to be a great pussy licker. This is the only way many women can really have an authentic orgasm, or learn to open up to you and let go. And it's a great compensator if you come too fast or reach that age where you have a sudden erectile dysfunction. Tell her she has a beautiful pussy. Tell her you love her scent (not "smell").

5. DO fuck her missionary. Women love to look you in the eye and feel that connection. Try the "riding high" adaptation of this position, where you're putting pressure on her pubic bone and clit — it's a great feeling and can give many women an orgasm. Missionary is also a wonderful starter to then putting her legs over your shoulders and other positions. Then let her get on top and ride.

6. DO say her name as you fuck her. I love my name and love to hear it from a man who's inside me.

7. DO be slow and gentle at first, especially if you're well-endowed. Learn the moves and rhythms she responds to.

8. DON'T pull out suddenly after you come. It's a yucky feeling for a woman. Stay put and let your penis go flaccid while you kiss her and stroke her hair.

9. DON'T assume she wants to be taken roughly unless she sends you some clear signals. Most women don't, especially at first. They do want an assertive, confident man. But there's a difference — learn it. And don't act out the latest porn vid you saw by, for example, slapping her butt while you fuck her from behind. Trashy. Major turn-off.

10. DON'T kick her out or leave unless she signals that she wants that. It makes even a one-night-stand lover feel cheap, feel like a whore (in a bad way). Hold her after the first time. Cuddle. Do it all over again. Send her roses the next day like the class act you are.

I'm sure my female readers have some additional advice to add.

And one for the guys

2011-04-08T15:18:00.000-07:00

(this is not me)

What my mailbag looks like...

2011-04-04T14:46:00.001-07:00

Funny, my female emailers don't send me their intimate shots. But thanks, gentlemen. What do you think, ladies (and curious/bi/gay men)? And readers keep submitting them!

Little black riding hood

2011-03-21T14:00:00.000-07:00

It's been a very intense couple of weeks, for reasons you can guess but of course I can't tell you.

Friday night I was totally fried when I finally got some freedom, did some window-shopping and was walking home. But not so fried that my sixth sense didn't tell me I was being followed. And badly, at that. This was an amateur. So I didn't head in the direction of home, walked instead a long way down Pennsylvania Avenue and let the crowds thin out. I stepped into an alley and waited. My gut was tight but I was cool and focused. I unsnapped the retention snap on the holster holding my SIG Sauer (for you gun nuts, I was wearing my Galco Silhouette highride, a very nice accessory for my pants suit). When the figure passed me, I whispered, just loud enough.

"Hi, there."

The figure jumped in surprise and faced me. Beneath the black hood of the raincoat was...Robin.

"Amber..." she sputtered.

"Why are you following me?

"I'm not..." I saw the red of her face even in the dim light. Then her expression changed and she advanced toward me in the alley, her body quaking with anger.

"You fucked my husband!" she shouted.

Fuck

I know, I know. You warned me, and I had an uneasy feeling about out solitary romp. I took a step back and lied. I'm usually a very good liar.

"Lying little bitch!" she screamed. "I saw the video on his computer!"

Fuck, fuck. He taped us.

"Look Robin," I said. "James told me you were OK with this, and you have your own boy toy on the side..."

"I...do...not!"

I'm usually very good at defusing situations. But she just slapped me, hard. I felt I had to let her do it. But it was no girl slap — I almost felt some dental work start to come loose. When she tried it again, I grabbed her wrist, turned her, put an arm lock on her and kicked her behind the knee, dropping her to the pavement, face down. Then I heard the blip of the siren and saw the walls reflecting the emergency lights.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

It was a DC police cruiser, pulled to the curb. Two officers were getting out of the car.

"Stay," I commanded Robin. Then I walked (in a non-threatening manner) to the cops and discreetly showed them my credentials. They went away, silently resenting the feds. I walked back to Robin, who was on her knee crying. I helped her up.

As we stood there, she cried and told me how they had started swinging after their kids had grown up and left the house, how she was very reluctant at first but grew to enjoy it, but how each had pledged to do no cheating on the side.

I'd like to tell you that I took her back to my place, made us drinks and we made passionate make-up girl love. But that didn't happen.

"He's in love with you, Amber," she blubbered. "I don't want to lose him!"

If that was true, she had bigger problems than me. She's a pretty woman worried that she's losing her looks. If James is screwing me on the side, who else might he be doing? I am that most threatening thing to a married woman: A single woman who men want to fuck. And a redhead. But all I could promise was that I wouldn't see him again. As she pulled up her black hood and hailed a cab, I knew I wouldn't be getting any more invitations to the lifestyle club. Now I just need to call in a favor and get the asshole's video erased before it ends up on the Web.

Half of my threesome

2011-03-01T10:40:00.000-08:00

A few days later I got another invitation to be with my new friends, Robin and James. If I didn't need an additional incentive, I was feeling my period coming on. That's the time of the month when I am frantically, insatiably, recklessly horny. Same hotel, same room. James met me at the door and his brown eyes glittered in appreciation of the little black dress I was wearing. My coat dropped to the floor. He took me in his arms and started a marathon of kissing, light, deep French, lips all over my face, ears and neck. I was panting in anticipation.

"Where's Robin?"

"She's running late," he said, nibbling my neck, letting my hair fall into his face. "You are the hottest goddamned woman I've ever seen, Amber."

I was against the wall of the entryway into the room as we continued to make out. As he kissed me, he fondled my breasts, gently pinching my nipples. Then his hands wrapped around my waist and I could feel his fingers searching for my panty line. "Such a bad girl," he murmured, as he realized I wasn't wearing anything beneath the dress. His hard penis poked against me through his tailored slacks. I reached down and unzipped him, letting it hang out freely as I wrapped my hand around the shafted and stroked up and down. He reached under my hemline and brushed my bush, put a finger inside me. All this while we stood there, kissing like teenagers. I tried to guide us inside to the bed, but he kept me there.

"I want you now," he said, and in a flash the slacks and boxers were at his ankles. He pushed me against the wall, raised my hips with his hands. My legs went up and he slipped right in, mashing my back against the wall. We fucked, my legs wrapped around his lower back, his thick cock impaling me, his hands holding me in the air. He was strong as hell; all I really had to do was enjoy, which I did. It had been years since a man had fucked me against a wall...back in...hell, my mind was too fuck-addled for history. His breathing picked up and I was whimpering and moaning, his cock finding its way deeper and deeper into me. "Amber...oh, my god...fuck...," he yelled and I felt his pelvis and legs shudder as he came. The man was no boor: He held me there, his cock still inside me, kissing me gently. Finally I felt him go soft and slip out. He eased me down, then picked me up and carried me to the bed, where he slowly undressed me, what little there was to undress.

He used the little black dress to brush lightly across my nipples, which were so hard already. Amazing feeling. Then he started licking them in concentric circles, one nipple, then the other, back and forth, each time applying more pressure until he was really sucking hard, which I love. I pulled off his shirt and ran my hands across the light hair on his chest. Then he eased me back down and dropped down on the bed. I felt his mouth on my right foot, licking and sucking my toes. It sent bolts of pleasure up my legs into my pussy. For maybe the next 30 minutes he gave me "the treatment," licking and kissing up one leg, then the other, lingering on my inner thigh. Then I felt his tongue on my clit and shuddered. He wasn't going to let me off that easy, though. He backed down and started running his tongue around my pussy lips, then he tongue-fucking me, causing me to get pretty noisy but not go over the edge. I felt him sucking at me. A good Kegel girl, I bore down and gave him a taste of his come. Was it. He rose up and French kissed me with a huge glob of semen mingled with my pussy juices. Our tongues danced in it before I swallowed the goo. That had me bucking and grinding against him, I was so desperate to come. He went back and brought me off expertly with his tongue, then fucked me awhile missionary — not bad for an "old guy." I had an aftershock through my pelvis with every stroke. "Oh, a scratcher and and screamer," he said, looking down on me. I hadn't noticed. Then he held me as I came down off the orgasm plateau.

"Robin's not coming."

This broke me reverie. I asked why. "She has her own lover tonight, a younger guy. Maybe we'll invite him sometime."

This made me vaguely uneasy, as I had checked them both out before embarking on this little adventure, and I knew nothing of Robin having a separate lover.

"Does she know you're with me?"

"Sure," he said. It was a lie, I knew it.

"I just had to have you, Amber."

I didn't resist as he pulled me on top of him and I slipped his penis inside me and started to ride.

Valentine slut

2011-02-16T14:20:00.000-08:00

Now that I'm walking a little more normal, let me tell you about Valentine's Night with James and Robin. Remember, they know me as "Amber," the name I chose when Chris first introduced us. I thought it was better to be consistent and not raise questions in their minds, so Amber I was. It's easy when you're a professionally trained liar. We met at an intimate bar near DuPont Circle and enjoyed a drink and sexy talk (me a martini, Robin a cosmo). Then we walked to a hotel where they had reserved a suite for their Valentine's gift to each other: A threesome with Amber. I should add that underneath my regulation-issue spy trench coat, I had nothing at all, except for sheer black stockings and a black garter belt.

This was, as a boyfriend once said, quite a fuckfest. So...some impressions:

Robin is five years older than me and looks at least five younger, with flawless fair skin and wheat blond hair worn in a bob; she's shorter than me, but still has nice legs, large breasts and a thatch of colorless-to-gray pubic hair one finds on many blondes (hey, I've been in gym showers). James is ten years older, with a jock body but aging well, executive square jaw, salt-and-pepper hair... His cock is probably around seven inches, nicely thick, with a very, very nice helmet of a head on it...Robin's pussy looks like an "inny" when you first see it, but with a little manipulation and arousal, it's a classic Georgia O'Keeffe blossom...

It can't be avoided, so early on James is fucking me from behind on the king-sized bed while I lick Robin, her legs spread wide in front of me, pussy smell in my nostrils. I take a long time with her, doing it the way I like, such as lingering with my mouth on the insides of her thighs, kissing up to her pussy but just barely touching it with my face before starting on the other thigh. Her skin is taut, warm, smooth, and she shakes and arches her back as I begin to really tongue my way around her labia. She is drenched. And all this would be my focus if I didn't have a nice cock inside me. I feel as if I've revirginated during the time I've been between lovers. I'm tight and it hurts a little at first, and my pussy walls stay clamped around him. He's very gentle and slow. I soon realize this is because he's so aroused by watching me lick Robin that he's afraid he's going to come in me too soon...

Like me, Robin's a screamer and she lets go big time. Animal-like, primal, rhythmic. I love it. Just love it. I gently keep my tongue on her clit to milk every last second out of her orgasm. She grips my hands tightly. After awhile, we change positions, and James is fucking Robin from behind, but I am under her, sixty-nine style. So I get this great view of his cock sliding in and out of her pussy blossom, pussy lips being pushed in, then pulled back out full, again and again, while I try to lick each of them like dessert. Robin rests her head on my tummy while he fucks her, trying to lick me but never quite able to stick with it. "Ah...Oh!...God...!" she moans. I can feel James' shaking, trying to hold out, but he can't and pumps frantically inside her, letting out a big groan. He rocks against her a long time, then gently slides out. I lick his cock, covered with semen and her scent and juices. Then I lick and such his come out of her. She sits up on my face and I get a good glob and her anus on my nose. Then she starts licking me...

In a moment, they're both between my legs, taking turns licking my pussy. James goes up and sucks my nipples hard, then returns to my nether-regions, again and again...we're a tangle of legs and arms...until I can't fight that hot sensation that starts in my feet in pretty soon explodes in my crotch. I scream hard, sudden, gripping Robin's head and forcing it against my pelvis. By this time, James is hard again and climbs on top, giving me a long, hard fucking. He is very into my legs, loves the stockings, tells me to wrap my legs around him, then slips my ankles over his shoulders for a real pounding. His older-man hanging balls bounce sensually against my ass. He calls my name as he fucks me. I like this, even if it's not my real name. I come twice this way while Robin sits back, sips champagne and watches...

We fall asleep all wrapped together. When I come awake, I have my moment of natural paranoia/disorientation. It's strange to wake up with two other people in bed with you. What wakes me is Robin atop James, riding him with ever more urgency, her blond bob bobbing, a little perspiration breaking out on her forehead, a blush spreading across her upper body and face. She silently collapses on top of him. Later we both give him a blowjob, even though the result is just a trickle of semen...he wasn't complaining.

Neither was I. Amber had fun. I caught a cab home around 3 a.m. and let the two of them be together. The inside of my trench coat has a big semen stain on it where my souvenirs dribbled out of me on the ride back.

An invitation

2011-02-11T13:39:00.000-08:00

I probably shouldn't do this.

A couple of weeks ago, in the small town that is D.C., I ran into Robin, the hostess of the lifestyle club where my friend Chris took me a while back. She was so glad to see me and we had coffee together. She said that she and her husband had been thinking about me, a lot. And would I consider coming over on Valentine's night. I demurred but she was persistent. It would be just her and her husband, James. They had promised each other something special and kinky for Valentine's Day.

I thought about it and said yes, canceling a date that would have been pleasant but not particularly promising. So I'm going. As they say in my business, "What could possibly go wrong?"

In the meantime, any poll takers care to share about your "losing it" experience? I'd love to read the good, the bad and the premature ejaculations. The comments section awaits you.

Cape Cod memories

2011-02-01T13:20:00.000-08:00

Work just took me to Cape Cod. It was wintery and icy, with the ocean the color of lead. Despite this, the landscape brought back an amazing sense memory. I was 21, in college in Boston, with long red hair and, as a girlfriend said, a body to die for. In the late spring, a boyfriend and I spent a long weekend on the Cape. Everything was blooming and the sea was a deep blue, mirroring the cloudless sky. It wasn’t crowded with tourists yet, just enough people that things didn’t seem as desolate as the past few days in real time. He was tall, dark, athletic build, magical mind. He had dark, curly hair and a dick with a thick shaft and small head, which created an interesting sensation when he was inside me. We took a bag of books to read but ended up fucking what seemed the entire three days. I don’t think I read a thing.

The “tone” of the trip was set when we found a secluded beach, laid down a blanket and screwed. I had on a denim miniskirt, and he – a great kisser, this one – laid next to me and kissed my lips, face and neck while his fingers found their way inside my panties. By the time he pulled them off, they were wet and I was panting. He stripped off his jeans and slipped inside, riding me at an easy pace even though I was already moaning loudly, right on the edge of coming. The nature all around, from the sea bird calls to the breeze to the openness of the terrain only added to the arousal. My skirt was hiked up on my hips and he raised my legs over this shoulders and really started fucking me. The feeling of his balls against my hips was incredible. I came with a scream, which only added to his momentum. He moaned, shuddered and collapsed on top of me. We held each other with the ardent passion that only comes with youth and then laid side-by-side, staring up at the puffy clouds that had started to roll by. It didn’t take him long to get hard again, and I gave him a long blowjob; it certainly wasn’t given with the skill I later learned, but he didn’t complain. Those young balls gave me a nice full load that spurted all the way into my throat.

Later, we checked into a bed-and-breakfast and became notorious. As you know, dear reader, I am loud when I make love. It only took a couple of hours before there was a knock at the door and the yuppie-matronly owner told us to quiet down. Did I see a little smile in her eye? After that, I tried the “don’t wake the children” style that I imagine parents must learn, stifling my moans by biting my lower lip, and eventually screaming into a pillow as he was fucking me hard from behind. Oh, he wanted to fuck my virgin asshole, but I wouldn’t let him.

We ate lobster in Provincetown (I still have a picture of us wearing bibs and looking goofy). We were, ahem, in the minority as a straight couple. He dared me to pick up a girl at one of the bars, but I was too chicken then — even though I’d crossed that slutty threshold with Pam. It was tempting, though, and only added to the sexual vibe. I challenged him to pick up a guy; men were already eyeing him. "See how they're looking at your crotch?" I teased. He got all discombobulated, as men usually do, and refused.

The last morning, we made slow love in the bed of our notorious lodgings. Missionary style. My knees up and against him, and then my legs and feet resting against the backs of his thighs. The windows were open, birds were singing, and a cool breeze caressed our naked bodies. After he came and lay next to me, I thought: Could life get any better? Now I think, Was I ever that young? Back to the present, one night I did stop at a bar in Provincetown for a light dinner and a martini. I had a long talk with a woman next to me: Short blond hair, sweetheart face, buff body, about my age. As closing time approached, we made out a little — she had a snaky, inviting tongue — and she invited me to her house. I demurred. There’s a lot of truth to the old saw: What does a lesbian bring on the second date? A U-Haul. And I wasn’t looking to be her wife. Anyway, I was on the job.

I want it on my desk, now!

2011-01-20T15:07:00.000-08:00

I work in an environment that's very macho. Even the women who do that I do have to adopt the mask or be seen as weak. And part of the machismo is lots of sex talk and come-ons. No amount of sensitivity training, or the occasional banishment of an offender (like the one caught banging an intern in a supervisor's office) to, say, Afghanistan, changes the basic culture. I don't mind it, because I love to study sex, I like men, I can take care of myself and I hate PC shit. When people are in really stressful, dangerous jobs they need to blow off steam. But that's just me.

Ben desperately wants to fuck me. He's married, of course, and constantly complains about sex on the home front. His wife, Jennifer, is a mousy little thing and, to hear him tell it, only lets him fuck her once a month, always missionary style. "I bet you do every position in the kama sutra with those long legs of yours, Linda," he has said more than once. More than once, I have said, "I need a guy who has a dick longer than three inches, Ben." Which pisses him off. He's actually got big feet, but I won't fuck him. Too skinny. I don't typically go for blond men. And he's a graceless clod. (I also learned my lesson about fishing off the company pier with Mike, as wild and eye-opening as that affair was).

I did have an affair with Henry a few years ago. We were working very long hours alone and finally ended up fucking on a conference table, a very hot, very spontaneous thing. He's older and married. Maybe to his credit, he was beset with guilt and we only carried on a few more times. Sometimes I still give him a secret smile. I like it when nobody knows whom I've slept with.

We women talk about sex and men, too. Don't let anybody tell you differently. Sometimes it's sad. I had a drink with my friend Beth, who's a stunner, blonde, great body, in her early 50s but looks a decade or more younger. She's out of field work now, but smart, sexy. She's married to a very nice and attractive man, whom I've met. Anyway, over martinis, Beth said she and her husband hadn't had sex in two years (!). I wondered if she was having an affair. But, no. "I'm just not horny anymore," she said. God, save me from that fate. Sometimes women talk about the men they've shared; one particularly unfortunate lad was very good at getting his partners to give him head, in cars, wherever. But they started comparing notes and soon the entire unit knew that his unit was only three inches long.

We play a game out in the field: Would you sleep with (attractive man)? If so, would you sleep with (really unattractive man) to get him? I'm sure the guys do the same thing. When it's a mixed group, everyone tries to be careful, but it's, er, hard. Flirting and propositions are commonplace, especially among peers. Oh, if they knew my recent adventures as a cougar, much less with women. I tend to come across as quiet and bookish (and a very good shot).

In my wider world, where I'm just Linda who has a dull job at the Justice Department, things are less fraught with being accused of disclosing state secrets while getting laid. Bob and Tamara are both having affairs right now, and both apparently know. Tamara is my friend and she hates him for it. But she started it, seducing her boss. So they carry on. Holly's husband wanted to see her fuck another man, and after a long process, she did it. And really liked it. He enjoyed being cuckolded much less than he thought. Now it's a major stress in their marriage. I know: Sounds like a story out of the Kristen Archives, but this one's true. Holly have me a quite graphic account of the guy and the deed: He was quite the athletic, giving, well-endowed lover. Hubby watched, then stormed out when Holly started screaming and moaning the way she never did for him. Be careful what you ask for. Hubby looked really beaten down, that 5,000-yard stare, the last time I saw them.

Back at work, there's Susan, a young beautiful young thing who likes to project toughness, but she's incredibly naive. Also tightly wound and straight-laced. She's going through the sexist hazing right now and being propositioned. She strikes me as the type to report it and get us all in deep shit. I can see it coming now: New memos, and another sensitivity workshop.

I haven't been with Wendy in awhile, and that's fine. Every fling runs its course, and we're still friends. Not so with young Chad, who I kicked to the curb. So I guess I'm available.

His first time

2011-01-10T13:39:00.000-08:00

A friend told me this story. It was hot enough to share:

I was sixteen and played trumpet in a high school jazz band. We had been hired by the sophomore class at a high school in Ohio to play for their prom and it was a long difficult gig (long bus ride from plus a 3 hour on-stage performance.) After the gig we returned to the motel still excited about getting paid for what we loved doing. Some of us went to a bowling alley to relax and wind down. Someone, I think it was either Don or Max learned of a “whore house” nearby. “Triple Dog Dares” followed “Double Dog Dares” and I wound up in a taxi with a bemused driver. My friends were financing the adventure to the tune of 20 bucks

He drove a couple of blocks, turned into a back alley and stopped behind a nondescript looking house. “Here you go son, that’ll be $3.50” I slipped him a five and walked tentatively up to the back door of the house. My teeth were chattering even though it was not cold. The door opened to my ring and I almost jumped out of my skin. An elderly woman dressed as a maid beckoned me in. I hesitated a moment but gathered my courage and was ushered into a waiting room.

To my surprise, there were two other members from the band sitting there: Jim and Bill both played in the sax line and if anything they looked more frightened than I was. I sat on a weathered couch and tried to read an old Playboy magazine – pausing deliberately at the centerfold and wondering what was in store for me.

The door opened and a gorgeous blonde sidled into the room. She wore a strapless form fitting sea green dress that hid nothing and revealed lots. She was about 5’4” and had a lovely figure with impressive cleavage and seductive hips. “Who’s next?” she said in a throaty voice. I looked at my buddies but they had raised their magazines defensively; hiding their faces. I stood. “I guess that’s me,” I said. She beckoned to me, turned and, showing a fabulous back, flowed out the door.

She ushered me into the room next to the waiting room. “Hi, my name is Lori. I’m 28” she said with her eyes twinkling, her voice a rich dark contralto. “What kind of party do you want,” she said smiling up at me. I stammered “Hi, I am Jack” and something to the effect of “What are my choices?” She cocked her head quizzically and replied, “Well there’s an ‘Around the World’ for Fifteen dollars or just a ‘Regular’ for twelve.” I had no clue as to what either of those meant so I mumbled, “The Regular I guess.”

She giggled “You don’t have much experience, do you?”

“No ma’am, this is my first time.”

That set her back, “You’ve never been with a working girl?”

“No, I have never been with a woman before,” I stuttered while handing her the money.

“You mean I get your cherry?”

I nodded dumbly. She grinned up at me, “Don’t be nervous, Hon, we are going to have fun.“ With that she turned for the door and said over her shoulder, “Take your clothes off and put them on that chair, I’ll be right back.”

It seemed like an eternity while I undressed and carefully folded my clothes over the chair. By now I had a painful erection: My cock strained and elongated like never before. I stood, shivering again and wondering how long it was going to take when the door opened suddenly and Lori slipped in. She saw me and giggled, then she unzipped the front of her dress and stood before me, gloriously naked: No bra, no panties no stockings. She wore only her pale green high heeled shoes and a bewitching smile. Her breasts were full and pointed: her nipples pink and erect. Her stomach was flat and her pubic hair matched the blondness of the hair on her head. She walked toward me, holding up her hands, hips swaying, full breasts all a-jiggle: a powerfully erotic sight.

“Let’s have a look at you,” she said and grabbed my cock with her left hand. I almost fainted with the sensation of it all. Her bare breasts jiggled while she stroked my cock two or three times. “

You have a very nice cock,” she said, “I doubt that you’ll ever have trouble with women with that tool of yours” I groaned. She squeezed hard and pulled on my now engorged cock and looked critically at the head of it, searching for signs of any discharge.

Seeing none, she dragged me over to the sink like a “pull toy” and began washing my cock and balls with soap and warm water. Afraid of finishing too soon, I groaned again and she said, “Be patient, we’ll get to the real thing in a minute. She dried me off, reached up and patted me on the cheek, “Let’s get busy.” She grinned, and turning, slipped out of her heels, lay down on the bed, and beckoned me over.
I knelt between her splayed legs while she reached down and guided the head of my cock to her waiting cunt.

“Go ahead and push.” she said. I pushed gently and easily slid in up to the hilt. The sensation was amazing. I was buried balls-deep in the slick warmth of her and it felt wonderful. I eased forward onto my elbows and stared down into her blue eyes as I registered the amazing feeling of her pussy: she clenched her pussy muscles twice, squeezing my cock. “Come on, Hon, let’s fuck” she whispered hoarsely. Her hands guided my hips into an easy rhythm. For the first time, I felt powerful in the embrace of a woman.

At first, I tried to keep a slow steady beat, but as my passion and my power rose, my thrusting became more insistent and faster. She was holding my face with both hands now, “You won’t have to jack off any more” she whispered. “I’ll be jacking off remembering this for a long time” I groaned in response. Soon our conjoined rhythm became more intense; I was slamming into her with all my strength. My balls were slapping her cunt with a wet squishy sound. The bed was squeaking and banging the wall with my efforts. She gripped me with her legs wrapped high around my waist — her knees pressed tightly to my ribcage, her heels hooked behind my thighs.

“Come on Hon, give it to me — give it to me — I want it.”

I drove myself harder — striving for my finish. My whole world shrunk into the sensation of our fucking: nothing else was perceivable. Her breasts moved in circles under my chest: her erect nipples traced lines of fire around mine. Her arms were locked around my shoulders. She was beginning to pant: her eyes closed and she stretched her head back: neck tendons taut and rigid. Her mouth was open and she was grunting to my thrusts. Her hands moved to my butt and she made me understand the urgency of her rhythm. Her hips worked in counterpoint to mine. She whimpered and moaned with the pleasure of our coupling. I felt her pussy contracting around me: she began to jerk and spasm.

She groaned into my ear: “Come for me Jack, come for me now!”

I felt a small ball of electric fire ignite at the base of my spine. It grew slowly and spread to the whole of my groin. Panting and gasping I rasped, “Oh Lori, I’m gonna come!” Lori dropped her legs from around my back, planted her feet on the bed and levered me up into a kneeling position. The electric fire in my groin consumed me, my face contorted into a grimace and I came hard: jerking and grunting as the bolts of come shot out through my cock into the depths of her. My whole body contracted with each discharge – It felt like I was ejaculating white hot pearls through my cock. At each pulse of my cock, she squeezed me with her pussy, milking every last drop.
We were still locked together, I was panting and sweating. I fell forward onto her and hugged her.

Lori gently wiped my forehead with her right hand. “There, that wasn’t so difficult was it?” she said, letting her legs slide down to the bed. “Thank you Lori, thank you,” I croaked. I was overwhelmed with gratitude to her for her gentle but erotic tutoring. We held still for a moment, then she gently pushed me away, “Get dressed, we’re done here.” There was a sadness in her voice: a recognition that we would never meet again. When I stood and started dressing, she quickly zippered into her green gown and left the room.

I don’t remember leaving the place, I suppose I found a cab and went back to the motel. The next day on the bus, my friends started to kid me in front of the rest of the band about my "adventure." I could only stare out the window, smiling, day-dreaming of how I lost my cherry. The vision of Lori's face, framed in blond curls, contorted in pleasure, swam in my imagination. I was so distracted that they realized I was not going to respond to their taunts, and so, losing interest, they left me alone: to dream and remember.

Ooops. Please vote again

2011-01-07T13:40:00.000-08:00

I meant for people to be able to select multiple answers! #$@%#! technology.
— Linda Sue

The best of 2010

2010-12-30T16:29:00.000-08:00

Get out your hands and fingers, boys and girls. Here's a look back at the most popular Linda Sue true stories of the year:

About Me — And More About Me

Returning to the Lifestyle Club

Losing My Other Cherry

My work being what it is, I can't make an ironclad promise. But I'll try to blog more next year. Thanks for reading and have a Happy (and sex-filled) New Year.

A cock in the hand

2010-12-14T13:20:00.000-08:00

A reader wants my take on hand jobs. "I'm interested in any story with a big cock, a lot of cum, or just about anything that strikes you. Needless to say, detail would be much appreciated." And, "PS, Have you ever caught a guy masturbating? If so, a story about that would be fantastic as well." You know me. I love to be of service, and serviced.

Hand jobs aren't my kink. Still, there's something wonderful about making out with a guy and feeling his erection through his pants. Then slipping my hand inside his fly and stroking his cock. I've stroked men through their suit slacks in fancy bars, and done it under the table of four-star restaurants with my foot. If it's a new lover it's like (I think I've written before) opening a Christmas present. Cocks are hard, yet their skin is so preternaturally soft. I do love to stroke a cock as he kisses me, or fingers me. I only had one bad experience this way when I reached inside and found a skinny, three-inch penis. Since he was married anyway, I just ended things after the make-out session.

I did a good deal of hand jobs in high school, when I was keeping my virginity by jerking off my boyfriend (and a couple of other dates, too), before I graduated to blow jobs. Those early memories of the first time I felt a cock in my hand are still arousing. Boyfriend came the first time after I ran my hand up and down his penis maybe half a dozen times, leaving a huge stream of semen all over his pants, steering wheel and, of course, my hand. It was the volume and power of an ejaculation that only a seventeen-year-old boy could have. We were both surprised as hell! It was cool, white and sticky, stringy and unlike anything I had ever experienced. I wasn't adventurous enough then to lick it all up, but I did take a little taste off my finger — and I was addicted to semen ever since. After that, he always wanted me to jerk him off, since I was saving my cherry. After I started sucking cock and fucking, the hand job alone lost its allure.

There was one exception. I had a fling with a very well-endowed man. His cock was so thick he couldn't get it inside me. He called himself "Foster" because he claimed his penis was the size of one of those big Aussie beer cans. It wasn't quite that thick, but I just couldn't take him in my little pussy. So I gave him several hand jobs, sometimes as part of fellatio, sometimes just with my hand. His cock was shaped like a missile, with a smaller head than the shaft. His balls held plenty of white stuff and I loved making a mess.

As for catching someone in the act, when I was fourteen I walked in on my brother as he was masturbating. I almost immediately closed the door, but the image was burned in my brain. He was surrounded by porn magazines and frantically running his hand up and down his cock. I was horrified but also a little turned on. I did my own masturbating in my room; more than once my mom threw open the door and gave me a long lecture about how "that" would give me diseases, how "that" was the devil's work. She should have seen her son.

Once I was drunk in college and went back to my boyfriend's place late. We smoked some dope and listened to music. Then ended up fucking a long time on the floor while his room-mate was supposedly passed out on the sofa. But as I was riding my lover I noticed movement, and the roomie was jerking off while watching us. I caught his eye, then he immediately pretended to me asleep. I had a major orgasm, right then, stifling myself in boyfriend's shoulder. Back then I was still too repressed to have invited the room-mate to join in. But as I lay there panting, I looked over and saw that he had come, too. And he was licking his sperm off his hand! By this time, he wasn't even faking sleep. He grinned at me lasciviously. A few days later, we were fucking on the same sofa, while boyfriend was away.

I had to hand it to him.

Tongue worshipping

2010-12-06T11:25:00.000-08:00

One thing I've never been able to replace with my ex is his ability at pussy licking.

It was on wondrous display on our most recent liaison. As usual, he covered me with kisses — he's a great kisser. My ears, neck, breasts — he knows I like my nipples sucked hard until I'm moaning and panting, belly button. Then he started down at my feet. He licks them and sucks my toes. Long before I knew about foot-fetishes, I knew how he could send tingles into my crotch by sucking my toes and licking and biting my ankles. He talks in his rich baritone: "My God, any woman would envy your ankles...I love your toes." Then he moves up each leg slowly, kissing and licking. He spends much time at the insides of my thighs. "Do you know how many men would kill to be doing this," he murmurs. By this time I am squirming and very wet.

He barely touches my pussy with his mouth and beard before starting on the other leg and working his way up again. Part of me wants to grab his head and bury it in my crotch, grind against his face until I come. But I know it will be better if I let him take his time. As I wrote before, he loves to run his tongue around every part of my labia, and dart it deeply inside me. "Tongue-fucking," he calls it. The whole operation is "tongue worshipping." I feel his tongue making gentle circles on my clit, and by this time I'm on the high-speed train to orgasmville, so it's hard to remember everything.

He knows how to use the different facets of his tongue. He'll circle my clit with the end of his tongue, then go back into my labia. Suddenly, the flat edge of his tongue will go back up to my clit, applying more pressure. Typically, my feet are burning and I'm starting to see colors at the edge of my eyes. If I look down, I see my ex with his "red beard," i.e. my pubic hair and the rest of his face. My scent fills the room. I start to come and scream — he loves it that I'm a real screamer, "that rarest of lovers," as he puts it. Sometimes I'm holding his hands, fingers entwined, tightly. Sometimes I hold his head and his wavy dark hair. He keeps the pressure and tongue-moves just right, an amazing skill, to maintain my orgasm without things getting so intense that I can't stand it. Then, I'm wasted. Just moaning. He licks lightly, kissing the inside of my thighs and finally coming up to hold me a long time.

When we were first dating, I was determined not to be a slut. So we had several dates that just ended with a kiss, then more and more passionate kisses. After that, I let him into my blouse and let him caress and suck my breasts — then I stopped it. I felt like a high-school girl (or maybe nowadays, a junior-high girl). Believe me, I was ready to fuck. Finally, I was at his place and we were making out on his soft sectional sofa. I let him undress me, and to my surprise, he went down on me. I think I came like a nuclear reaction after about 30 seconds.

It amazes me how most men aren't very good at this, even as they demand head from a woman. Get a clue, gentlemen.

Blast from the past

2010-11-26T16:59:00.000-08:00

One thing that keeps me sane is a stable of fuck buddies: Old lovers who moved on but are reliable after their fashion, trustworthy, sexy and insatiably horny. One of my more forbidden secrets is that I still have sex once every year or two with my former husband. It's true. We had a very messy break-up, with adultery on both sides. The funny thing is, even during the divorce, we fucked a few times. And after. Maybe it's not so funny: I know a number of women who slept with their exes even after the marriage ended. Even with all the damage, there's still that magnetism that drew you together in the first place, the magic — white and black magic — of shared history. I'd be interested in reader experiences.

So my ex-husband called. He was coming to town and did I want to have dinner? I knew where this would end up (as an insecure boyfriend put it a few years ago, "If you go see him, you'll fuck him). So I just shortcut the process and told him to come over. Come over to my place with my oh-so-experienced bed that has taken so many men and a few women since we were married. Of course, he needed no coaxing. Of the many things we have in common: We're both sluts.

He's still a handsome man, smart as hell with the kind of voice that makes me melt. He still makes me laugh. He reads, unlike so many men now. The affair with his little Rachel led to marriage and that blew up, but not before they had a daughter and he's paying major child support. Do I ever think about the children we could have had? Someday I'll tell you about that. But this is a sex blog, right? "Why would I be doing this?" my so-called healthy girlfriends would say. Because he knows just how to kiss me, when to brush my lips and neck with his mouth, when to pull me forcefully to him and kiss me deeply. Because he knows just how to undress me, and when I want to be fucked dressed hoisted up on the bathroom vanity (as happened this time, panties pulled aside, my skirt up, stockings still on and high heels digging little souvenirs in his back.

His cock is average length, thick, with a big head. It still hurts a little when that big head enters me, a good hurt that will ease very quickly but leave a forbidden memory. He's gotten better as he's aged, and not every man can say that. Before I set aside my own jealousy, I remember once he was fucking me with my legs pulled wide against his elbows, giving me this amazing pounding I'd never experienced before. "You've been practicing!" I moaned. (He claimed the wife hadn't had sex with him for a year, which I actually believe). He appreciates my sluttiness, too. Oh, my god, he can lick me. Of all my lovers, he's the best cunnilinguist. So this time, after he carried me to the bed after the hard, screaming standup fuck in the bathroom, he lovingly undressed me and started, as he always does, at my toes. A major foot-fetish guy, he loves to lick my toes — a major turn-on. Then he started kissing and caressing all the way up one leg. He barely touched my pussy with his mouth and breath before starting again on the other leg, all the way back at the foot. He loves my feet. He loves my legs and spends much time on the inside of my thighs, driving me crazy. Soon he was licking every millimeter of my labia and deep tongue-fucking me, before moving up, ever-so-gently, to my clit. Then doing all this at just the right pressure before I came again so hard I thought I was going to pass out. Later, I rode him and ran my fingers across his so-familiar chest, with its light thatch of dark hair, feeling his warm hands on my hips, then letting him pull me down to suck hard on my nipples. Then, face to face missionary style, a long, long time.

We have new traditions, one of which is when I give him a last blow job before he leaves, I say, "You're really going to miss this." I started that when we had our first strange but irresistible sex after the big blow up and separation. And he always says, as he did this time, "I know."

All (sort of) about me

2010-10-19T11:11:00.000-07:00

You're a curious bunch. I'll answer all the questions I received and keep updating this post as new queries come in.

Is your name really Linda Sue?

Yes

What do you look like?

I'm a natural titian redhead, 5'8", with perky small breasts and prominent, long nipples, a nice butt and long legs. My hair falls over my shoulders. Men love my pussy, which has large labia.

Do you like porn?

No. It doesn't do anything for me. And I wonder about the fetishes of younger men who spend a lot of time on porn sites. I don't have huge artificial breasts. I don't shave — love my natural red pubic hair. The idea of a guy coming on my face or slapping my butt while he fucks me doggy style are definite turn-offs. The shaved thing makes me wonder how much these men are after ten-year-old girls.

How old were you when you lost your virginity?

Nineteen

Do you prefer Wilson, Ed Brown or Baer?

These are guns, not porn stars, by the way. I liked the Special Forces Carry when I fired it. But prefer the Glock 23 or SIG Sauer P220

If your job is so sensitive, why have a blog?

I love sex. Maybe I'm rebellious. Maybe I am watching you.

Every try a strapon either giving or receiving?

Yes. I fucked a boyfriend with one. Receiving, not so much. I love the feeling of skin on a real penis.

Do you practice safe sex?

Hmmmmm. If it's a stranger, I use a condom, even though I hate them. I prefer men I know or have scoped out, professional, middle-to-upper middle class. It's no guarantee, but... I love to feel a naked cock in me and to feel semen shoot inside me.

Are you happy? Do you feel loved? Does it matter to you? What would the best night/day of your life look like?

Is that you, Mom? Yes, yes and yes. As to the last question, see the posts on this blog.

Do you always lie if a man asks you if his cock is big enough? Do you ever fake it?

I never lie because a man who knows how to use his cock is big enough (and I can teach him if he doesn't know). I have never faked an orgasm, but I come very easily.

Are the pictures on here really you? Right now are you shaved?

You know how I feel about shaved. Many of the pics are of me and lovers. Others were sent in by readers. You'll have to use your imagination. The profile pic is me.

Where in the crap have you been? Dont you know we use your adventures to jack off to?? GEEZ I love the old stories but need some new stuff! Bang your brother in law again or cruise a bar again (preferably in my town!!)

That's classified, dear.

Do you think you can suck two cocks simultaneously, and swallow both loads with no difficulty?

I could do it if the guys didn't get all weirded out about being gay because their cocks touched.

Do you believe the legend regarding Cleopatra performing fellatio on 100 Roman noblemen in one night?

I missed that in my classics classes. It's possible if she used the vomitorium.

What's your take on DPs and facials? Had one/looking forward to one?

A DP sounds uncomfortable and a facial is a total turnoff.

What's the biggest load you've ever seen a guy shoot? What was your reaction to it?

My ex-husband was a big commer: Big load and very strong stream. I LOVED it. I've also had lovers who pulled out and a long stream of semen trailed their cocks...big turnon.

Have you ever farted while having sex?

Yes, and had pussy farts during fast, hard doggy.

What does good foreplay consist of? Having your breasts sucked on and your pussy licked? Do you need to get warmed up before you want a cock in your mouth? Do you like when guys ask you where you want their hot load? In your pussy or your mouth?

Foreplay can include a sophisticated man who knows good wine, sparkling conversation and makes me laugh. Good kissing is essential foreplay. So is touching, kissing my neck and ears and belly. Sucking my breasts and licking my pussy are grand, too. I don't always need foreplay. And sometimes it's nice to be asked about their load, especially if they're panting and desperate.

Do you regret making the promise to answer all these questions?

Not yet.

What is the most taboo sexual experience you have had?

I've often sought out the taboo, so it's hard to say. Probably this one.

Ever had sex in a car?

I'm pretty tall. I've sucked cocks in a car, and had sex on the hood of a car.

Have you ever been married?

Yes, once.

How many lovers have you had?

Thirty eight. Add another ten or so that were just blow jobs.

Do you date people who email you from the blog?

No, sorry.

Ask away

2010-10-15T12:00:00.000-07:00

I'm going to do a post answering your questions about...me.

Send me an email or use the comments section to ask anything. I'll answer in the next few days.

XOXOXO

Now it's your turn

2010-08-21T11:08:00.000-07:00

My readers can write of some of the sexiest real-life carnal experiences. That's what I want now, based on the poll at the right. Use the comments section to tell us about your hottest, nastiest, most forbidden or kinkiest proudest conquest. Don't forget to add those details. As for you lurkers: Join in — nobody can tell who you are. That's what the "anonymous" button is for!

Linda Sue

Learning to juggle

2010-08-04T10:46:00.000-07:00

I started masturbating at age thirteen (back off, pervs). It seemed like the most natural thing in the world. Even though our family was very repressed -- I swear my parents only had sex three times, resulting in me and my two siblings -- I was fascinated by my body, its urges, the changes I felt coming over me, and the outside world saturated with sex. The bad girls in school fascinated me, even though I was, sadly, a very good girl. But late at night, when the house was quiet and dark, I would lie in bed and explore. When I accidentally found my clit and got my first baby orgasm, I was hooked. One night my mother burst into my room, as was her wont, and found her eldest daughter naked and spread wide, fiery pubic hair and all, hands down in private parts. I could see her blush even in the dark. She closed and door and stomped off, never saying a word.

I'd fantasize about guys and none more so than Steve. He was tall, with wavy dark hair and wine-dark eyes and that indefinable and unlearnable gift called "cool." In a high school of suburban achievers, he was a hood: ran with the wrong crowd, spent lots of time in the city, drank and dealt pot, rode a rice rocket and drove a hot car. And yet he was very funny and clever when he chose to be, much more mature in many ways. I had a monster crush on him even as I spent my senior year in a steady relationship with Mike. Steve was a year older and unapproachable (I didn't have the confidence I would later acquire, or realize the power of even average-looking women). Steve noticed me, especially when I wore my cheerleader outfit. But we barely knew each other. He was also pussynip in the way of certain dangerous guys and never lacked girlfriends. As I moved into cocksucking with Mike, keeping my virginity technically intact, sometimes I imagined I was fellating Steve the bad boy.

I went to Boston for my first year of college while Mike stayed in Seattle, attending school there. We visited each other and that summer I lost my virginity to him. No complaints there; he was the perfect starter boyfriend. Definitely cute and with a future. Other girls envied me. But one night at the supermarket, I ran into Steve. He knew my name. We talked and he asked me out. My panties were getting wet just standing there.

The next night I wore a little black dress and he wore torn jeans. He took me across the floating bridge into Seattle on his motorcycle, my dress flopping wildly and no doubt revealingly, my clit feeling the vibration of the bike, my arms wrapped around his muscular middle. We bar hopped through Pioneer Square, him drinking three beers for every one I sipped. When we ended up at his apartment in an old four-story brick building in an iffy neighborhood (now gentrified), it just seemed a given. He didn't ask my permission as he put his strong hands on my shoulders and guided me into his bedroom. It was little more than a futon on the floor with iffy sheets, but I was dizzy with arousal. We'd been making out in the bars and he was an incredible kisser, a little forbidden cigarette smoke on his breath.

I was soon down on the futon, my panties tossed aside, black dress still on and his dick pushing into my recently virginal pussy. My breath went out with an "oooph" and my pussy walls alternately opened and tightened. God, it felt good. My abstract brain was thinking: Moving very fast here...second lover in two months... The rest of me just wanted to be fucked, which Steve did expertly. He raised himself on his arms and danced his pelvis up and down, swiveling. This was definitely not Mike. I was moaning and having little orgasms when he came with a loud moan and collapsed on top of me, falling asleep. I just ran my hands through that dreamy hair and thought, wow. In an hour, he was ready again and I sucked him off. He recovered in no time and got the dress off, worked over my breasts and nipples and fucked me more.

That's how much of the summer went: juggling Steve and Mike. I felt guilty but always aroused. More than once I slept with one while the other's semen was inside me...I was a sore Susie some weekends. It was impossible not to compare the two, from anatomy to how they loved on me. Steve taught me to fuck with my legs over his shoulders, doggy style. He'd fuck me like I wasn't there, and then like I was the only woman in the world. It was a scary magnetism. Mike was solid and dependable, sweet. But there was the backbeat of expectations: come home and go to college here, visit his parents, get married, have kids. Steve didn't give a shit. He just wanted to fuck. Neither one lasted. I went back to Boston and entered a life that Mike couldn't have handled ("Sorry, Honey, it's classified. How was your day?"). I wasn't going to be Steve's biker chick, either. Last I heard, he was serving ten years for drug dealing. And Mike got married, had kids, got divorced, remarried. But sometimes, when the night is right and I see a couple of kids on a motorcycle, I think of Steve and he still thrills me.

Bitch

2010-06-29T13:18:00.000-07:00

I go through extremely horny and wild times in my life. Sometimes I'm even placid and faithful after my fashion. And occasionally, rarely, I am very bitchy. This is an unusual condition for me, but it's where I've been in recent weeks.

Ever since Chad found his sweet-young-thing girlfriend, one who can accommodate his eleven-inch cock, he's changed. He still wants to come over and fuck me, of course. But he wants to talk about her. Lauren this and Lauren that. It would be one thing if he wanted to talk about their sex life. Instead, it's all relationship and even domestic stuff. I can see where this is headed and right now he's a taker. I don't mind sexual takers, to an extent, if they have something else to offer. But this blechy lovie-dovie shit. Spare me.

So Chad was talking and we were going through a bottle of wine. Then he wanted to fuck. He led me back to the bedroom and, a rarity for me, I was just not in the mood. We joylessly stripped by the bed — he's feeling guilty, no doubt — and climbed in. Few preliminaries. He didn't get his cock sucked and didn't seem to notice the signal. I lay down and just let him fuck me, let him do the work. You want to marry this solipsistic girl, get ready for this kind of sex...until the kids come, then no sex. As usual, he got about two-thirds inside me, and it felt great (I'd be a liar if I didn't admit it). I got wetter and wetter, the sounds of cock, pussy and pussy juice in the room.

Then I just opened my legs wider, put my feet on the mattress and started fucking him back, doing my oscillating pelvis move. He comes in less than thirty seconds. I came like I did early in college, which is not much.

"God, that was great!," he said, dismounting. He still doesn't know to wait a while before pulling out. The emptiness he left matched my mood.

"Now," I said, "leave and go home to Lauren."

"What?"

"You heard me."

Work is very intense and high-stakes right now, and every few months an old lover comes through town. Until then, I'm just going to be a bitch. And sometimes I'll be a really horny bitch, especially right before my period. Forgive me.

Dresses I've known (and been known in) Part II

2010-06-10T11:16:00.000-07:00

My friend Pam and I were very, very bad a couple of times in college, miniskirt-wise. We put on our sexiest short skirts and found places to sit while doing a "Sharon Stone" leg crossing as men walked by. Then we'd be bitchy cold if they tried to hit on us. Oh, did I say we weren't wearing panties — and with my titian red pubic hair the view up my skirt was unmistakable. No, horny guy, you didn't just imagine that. I have to say, we looked great. That happens when one is twenty. Afterward, we'd be so damned horny that we'd either end up in bed with each other, or have to go off and find our boyfriends of the moment and get some hard fucking. And they thought we were so aroused and came so fast because they were such studs.

Being out in public with no underwear and in a short skirt, too, was an amazing sensory feeling. The fingers of warm summer air tickling up my legs and into my pussy. Nothing between me and the outside world. My long legs, all 5'8" of me ("five-six of that legs," as my ex-husband said) striding through nature oh-so-naturally. Liberating, yes. A turn-on — most definitely. Especially with the eyes on me. I knew what they were thinking, and what if they knew those long legs led up to no panties...

This little adventure was quite the drive into Nasty County for a girl who was still shaking off her uptight, anti-sex, theocratic upbringing. On the other hand, it had risks. Boston then wasn't as gentrified as today, and the hoods were abundant. One day we did our beaver show off campus and a gang of five tough, working-class Irish kids started following us. This was long before I knew martial arts, much less carried a weapon. We were terrified. We gave them the slip at Downtown Crossing. Otherwise, I could imagine being dragged back to Southie or Dorchester for a couple of days of gang rape. Doing this to what they perceived as stuck-up, upper-class college girls would have only added to the allure, and probably brutality. The public defender would have said we were "asking for it." Twenty, cute and stupid. This scared us out of going commando so flagrantly. But I still do it occasionally still. (Pam is now a suburban mommie who wears long jumpers -- sigh).

Short skirts provoked so many consensual fuckings. In recent years, a long-distance lover checked into a hotel and I knocked on his door. I had on a tight, mid-calf skirt. Tasteful but men noticed, especially "leg men." It got his attention. He pulled me inside. After about ten minutes of the most divine kissing and embracing, he steered me into the nearby bathroom, hiked me up on the vanity, pulled his cock out of his suit-trousers and started fucking me. My panties never even made it past one ankle. They shook there like a little storm flag as he frantically screwed me. After we both came and disengaged, his semen spilled onto the inside of the skirt's fabric.

Oh, if I had ten dollars for every time that's happened in my life, or sperm otherwise ended up on one of my short skirts. That cool liquid feeling against the backs of my thighs as I drove home from an interlude. Those skits made for great "access" during college for outdoor and quasi-public sex. A guy fucked me on the hood of his fancy car one night, out on a country road. My khaki miniskirt pushed up to my waist and the breeze wafted over my legs and ass as he mounted me. We left heel and knee prints in the hood, and I bet they would hear me screaming that singular getting-fucked scream a mile away. Another guy pushed me up against a railing at a deserted ocean overlook and took me from behind, just pushing aside the thong I was wearing under the short skirt. I looked out at the waves and somehow that made my orgasm more intense.

A boyfriend in grad school and I were on the train. I was in a denim mini. He just kept reaching over and fingering me. I almost came and was starting to moan when the conductor started through the car and I moved his sweet hand. My first married man lover took me out to a fancy restaurant. I was wearing my first little black dress. He sat across from me and I felt his stocking foot against my calves. Pretty soon it was up inside my crotch expertly "fingering" me. He got quite a kick out of watching me flush and stifle moans while he looked on with great innocence. The toe of his socks ended up quite damp.

And that leaves the grand history of Linda Sue in little black dresses...for another day.

The limits of kink

2010-05-24T16:00:00.001-07:00

Because some of you asked...here's what happened with Chris and me after our visit with his swinger friends. He was very messed up after his cocksucking episode. His usual dry wit and conversation turned into sullenness and long quiet periods staring at nothing. I could sympathize, remembering both the first time a boy had come in my mouth: the surprise, the feel and taste...and recalling the first time a man held my head down and pumped his semen into my mouth. Despite my efforts to draw him out about it, he didn't want to talk.

This from my friend who had been happy to arrange for a "strangers" gangbang (see here and here and here) for Linda Sue, and who reveled in seeing me make love with a woman. He also enjoyed my college tales about my first girl-love, Pam. Plainly the whole goose-gander equation was out of whack.

I never sensed Chris had a limit to his kink, but guys are different. It's one thing to see girls doing each other, maybe even being "bi-curious," as the ads say. Obviously it's another to do the deed in real life. For the rest of the visit, Chris seemed out to prove something. Every time we fucked, he gave it to me as hard as possible, often uncomfortably so. He wouldn't let me go down on him. And I haven't heard from him since he left.

Still, I have this delightful mental image of his expression as he was sucking Andrew's large, thick cock and then faced the moment of truth: ejaculation! Chris was a swallower. I was proud of him. And I think deep down, he liked it. If I were more adventurous, I might go back on my own. But I live on the edge enough.

Dresses I've known (and been known in) Part I

2010-04-27T16:03:00.000-07:00

My sister Amber got the tits in the family. Men still stare at her chest, making her uncomfortable. I got the legs and ass, learning early that men paid attention. I always favored miniskirts as a result, despite my mother's contention that I dressed like a "harlot." My dresses have so many stories to tell. Here are a few.

My cheerleader outfit. Our high school had traditional sweaters and short-pleated skirts. Nothing as revealing as today, but to my mind more sexy. It was all about legs. On game days I would wear my cheer outfit through the school day to bring the team luck. I also noticed that more than one boy would be staring at me with a tent rising in his pants. One night after a game, I was outside the school when one of my father's friends pulled up and offered me a ride home. I sat into the plush leather of his Mercedes and we drove off. He was a physician and a member of our church, and pretty soon he was expertly running his hand along my thigh. I didn't make him stop. It felt amazing, every nerve in my body shimmering right into my pussy. I could smell my scent and was so wet I worried about his car seat. We pulled over and he pulled me into him and kissed me. It was a deep, full adult kiss, very different from the awkward smooches I had received from my boyfriend. He moved his hand up the inside of my thigh but was foiled by the tight shorts underneath. So all he could do was finger me through the fabric as we made out — I still had a baby orgasm. He unzipped his pants and his erect penis popped out. My mouth wanted it, pure instinct taking over. But I was afraid, so I just stoked it awhile. Then he drove me home. I didn't know how I felt about the whole thing, still being somewhat in thrall of my family's sexual hangups. I was still a virgin. So I felt guilty and avoided him. When he was around my dad, like a lot of dad's friends, he often had those hungry eyes on me.

I never had sex in the cheerleader outfit when I was a cheerleader. But I kept it, and can still fit into it. It's seen me through many a burn-the-paint-off-the-walls role play.

Denim and khaki skirts. I wore these quite a bit in college during the spring and summer. Most were about mid-thigh, a few shorter. I can't count the number of times a boy or man said, "leave it on," as he fucked me. One at a bar whispered that he's love to see that miniskirt crumpled on the floor at the foot of his bed. I didn't go home with him, but I became aroused anyway, corny line and all. As I recall, I had on a khaki mini the night I barely escaped a gang bang at the frat house. Another one was on the night I was drunk out of my mind and was basically raped by a stranger. Not so good. But it didn't stop me from showing leg. Once I was walking down a street and caused a wreck — a man was watching my saucy walk and my legs and rear-ended an SUV.

In college, the boys were very insistent, lacking any real seduction skills or willingness to let things unfold. They loved to dance or stand at the bar, running a hand inside the hem of my skirt, trying to get inside my panties. Sometimes I stopped them. But for the boys I chose to sleep with, the miniskirt — me in the mini — was definitely "the point of entry" in the attraction. They'd hump me in that endearingly demanding way of young men, but almost always asking me to rub my legs against them, or wrap my legs around them. I didn't need any coaxing, because I loved it, too. And at 5'8", I can do a good job of leg wrapping.

I played tennis for awhile, something expected at my expensive school back east. Oh, I loved that white tennis dress. Virgin-whore, whatever. It made me feel sexy. More than one player's game was destroyed by watching me walk by. I was no Steffi Graf on the court, but I could outfuck her in bed, I bet. One boyfriend played with me regularly, and our games invariably ended back at his place with me being fucked in my tennis whites. One time he fucked me on the grass in a secluded (we thought) spot. I never got those grass stains out.

You guys don't make it easy...

2010-04-14T11:52:00.000-07:00

You want everything (see poll at left). So demanding and masterful :-)

Returning to the lifestyle club

2010-03-22T13:10:00.000-07:00

It had been an especially unrequited horny winter until my friend Chris visited from Seattle. He knows my kink side, and I knew our time together wouldn't be taken up with conventional fucking. He used to work in D.C. and still has friends here. He persuaded me to go to a "party" on Friday night. But I could tell this was not going to be the usual dull District cocktail do. So I put on my sartorial sex armor under a long black dress, just in case I was right.

I was. We drove out to a large, pleasant house in the suburbs. The party consisted of six other couples, all well-dressed professionals. But my first hint that this would be different was when Chris said we would only use first names, and given my work, I should use a nomme de eros. I picked "Amber." Introductions were made and we had delightful cocktails and light conversation. Then the hostess, "Robin," a conservatively dressed, creamy skinned blonde, said, "Let's go into the playroom and get to know each other better."

I've been to one lifestyle club before, when I was much younger. Now I was once again the youngest person present (Chris, too), or at least I looked it. As we walked through the house, I could feel the men watching me move. We came to a large room with sectional sofas and futons on the floor. Everybody started taking off their clothes. I slipped off my dress revealing sheer black stockings, garter belt, and a black corset that pushed up my breasts. Most of the people knew each other and got together regularly -- they were anticipating the fresh meat.

I sat on a sofa while Chris ravished his friend "Robin" with kisses. They were still standing and his cock stuck out straight, bobbing insistently against her light dusting of blond-brown pubic hair. Pretty soon, he had her down on a futon and was fucking her missionary style, while her husband looked on. He's good, and I could see she was enjoying the attention from this younger man. Other people paired up -- all the married couples were making out with someone else. For a moment, I felt like the ugly duckling at the eighth-grade dance, not sure what to do next.

This was solved for me when a torso with an erect eight-inch cock was presented to me. I looked up and saw, "Andrew," the distinguished gentleman from the other room, looking at me with a lewd smile. I took him in my hand and started slowly stroking his cock. The shaft was thick and the head prominent. I took it in my mouth for a few tantalizing sucks, then licked it like a lollipop while holding his hips with both my hands.

The next thing I knew, I was down on the carpet with that dick being pushed into me. He was not one for finesse, and even though he had paused to put on a condom, he shoved right into me. It hurt and felt great at the same time, and I cried out. This only made his face light up in a kind of a scary way. I knew I was in for it, but not how much. Looking around, I could see the other couples had stopped and were sitting, watching us. Some of the men were stroking their cocks. He threw my legs up over his shoulders and started fucking me with deep, hard stokes. It was banging into my cervix and I made the mistake of telling him, saying, "slow down, baby." "Oh, no, Amber's going to get fucked," he panted, pounding me even harder. Chris and "Robin" watched with smiles on their faces -- Chris knowing my sometime submissive side.

My legs were next pinned inside his elbows so I felt truly trapped, my ass now high in the arm, his breath coming down on me hot, his big balls slapping against my hips, his strength totally overpowering me. My pussy was making so much lubrication that I could hear the noise of our fucking. My usual pre-orgasm feelings were absent. I was just being taken, being fucked like hell. Then my world just exploded. I heard a loud, animal-like scream -- it was me. My feet were suddenly hot and I saw colors and white dots at the edge of my eyes. My pussy was contracting like crazy, my whole pelvis was on fire, and I kept screaming and moaning, then bawling. It was one of the most amazing orgasms of my life -- is there such a thing as a cervical orgasm? He grunted and came in me. Somewhere in all the athletic pounding the condom had broken, so I could feel his semen spurting deep in me. He pulled out immediately and I was just left there on the carpet, my arms splayed out, still weeping and moaning.

Two of the women, "Lisa" and "Carrie," came over and held me. Both were brunettes in their late 40s, and pretty soon they were kissing me and caressing my very sore body. "Lisa" got between my legs and started licking Andrew's come out of me, and giving my pussy lips and clit a gentle going over. I started heating up and could feel my contractions starting again. "Carrie" sucked my nipples, then sat on my face and I eagerly tongue-fucked her. She had an "inny" pussy with small lips, but pretty soon I was hitting all the right spots and she let out a long, low moan and ground her pelvis against me as she came.

Another man was fucking "Lisa" by the time I came up for air, and Chris was back at it with "Robin" doggy style. "Robin" came quickly, a screamer, and an "I'm coming!" screamer at that. "Robin's" husband was being serviced on the sofa by another woman. There wasn't any recovery time for poor "Amber" (me) -- but at least I made it to a futon before being fucked doggy style by three different men in succession, and every one of them taking his time to enjoy me. One had an upward-curving cock, which was an interesting feeling. I just kept my head down and let them do the work -- I was still wasted from my cervical orgasm. I licked "Debra" -- a redhead with a nice pussy and full bush (but not a natural red like moi) while "Tom" fucked me from behind with his uncircumcised dick. And tried to suck "Eric" while being fucked from behind, but I didn't bring him off.

The last man fucking me while I was on my knees pulled out suddenly and pushed into my ass, just lubricated by my pussy juice and the semen, and came inside my anus. Thank God he was small. (And KY and clean wipes had helpfully been provided). Semen dribbled out of my ass, mingling with my pussy drippings. Somewhere along the way, the corset went away... The hostess had towels we could sit on once we were sharing bodily fluids.

And so it went. I sucked two cocks to orgasm and got fucked three more times, including by Andrew, with me on top this time, giving him my corkscrew move and making him come sooner than he wanted, and by another man very gently, slowly, my legs wrapped around him, and holding me afterward. I gave the hostess a nipplegasm" sucking those fair firm breasts. The room smelled of pussy and semen. The swingers especially liked me because I was open to pretty much anything.

But turnabout was fair play. As we sat and nursed our drinks and some snacks, waiting to go again, I dared Chris to suck off one of the men. He turned deep red and shook his head. Everybody started chanting "Chris...Chris...Chris...!" The women came over and started loving on him, while also holding him down on the sofa. Pretty soon, macho Andrew bent down and started sucking Chris's dick. And Chris didn't complain long.

Andrew had by far the best recovery time in the room, and his cock was hard again in no time. "Now it's your turn," he commanded, and Chris, as if in a trance, got on his knees and started sucking Andrew off. The woman gave advice. But I think Chris was just thinking, "What would I like if I were getting my cock sucked?" So pretty soon he was into it, right down to stroking Andrew's balls and shaft as he sucked.

Those balls were bottomless, or so it seemed, when Andrew's eyes rolled back in his head and he let out a loud moan. Chris didn't stand a chance because Andrew was holding down his head like some college boys had done to me. I could see him swallowing as fast as he could, but Andrew shoved into his throat, making his gag, and a long string of thick come was hanging out of his mouth when Andrew let him up. As if to make heterosexual amends, "Carrie" sat him on the sofa and rode him to another orgasm.

We drove home mostly in silence, having gotten more than we bargained for. But even though I would be sore for days, I felt great. If this was "middle age," include me.

"I'm not gay," my young man said at one point, his tongue and palate still sounding as if they had semen sticking to them. I remembered the first time a man had come in my mouth: the taste, the feeling, the sense of it in my stomach.

I patted his no-longer-virginal mouth. "Neither am I."

Earning extra credit

2010-02-26T13:16:00.000-08:00

I've been reading the book, The Death of American Virtue, about the Clinton impeachment. Back in college I had my own Monica Lewinsky moment. I was having an affair with one of my professors. A very nice man, who is a well-regarded scholar at an elite university in the northeast -- I'll leave it at that. He was married, of course, and old enough to be my dad. But he was incredible horny and good in bed.

In one of our sessions, we got a motel room and he had just sat on the bed when I dropped to my knees, unzipped his pants, and watched his cock spring out at the ready. I took him in my mouth and spent a long time licking, teasing and sucking. I was still perfecting my techniques. He wasn't complaining at all. Sometimes I would look up at him and smile while I kept jerking him off, then I would go back to earning extra credit. On this occasion, he came suddenly. I felt a little salty, bitter come on my tongue, then came a big spurt of stringy semen. I wasn't ready for it and gagged, pulling away. A viscous white string connected my mouth to his cock head and soon landed on my blouse. I picked up some of it with my fingers and swallowed it, trying to look sultry. But sure enough, I went back to my dorm with a big come stain on between my breasts. My roommate Pam smiled...she knew what it meant. And it sure wasn't, "I spilled a milkshake." It wasn't a blue dress, but, hey...

Another time, I came to class wearing a very short khaki miniskirt, no panties, and sitting in the front row. It was a lecture hall with raised seating for the students, so he could see all the way to Omaha when I opened and crossed my legs, which I did several times. At first, he grew red in the face, and I could tell he was growing elsewhere. Usually, he liked to walk around as he lectured. This time, he stayed safely behind the podium.

Afterwards, he said, "Linda, I need to see you in my office." So I obligingly went with him. Once the door was closed, he nearly threw me against the wall, smothering me with kisses, his hard cock pressing against me from inside his pants. I was already wet and could smell my pussy.

He put his hands on my waist and lifted me on his desk. I was still fully clothed, but the skirt had already ridden up and I opened my legs. I heard his pants unzip and his cock pushed inside me. He fucked me like a maniac, my legs wrapped around him, his hands firmly on my back. Panting in my ear, "Linda...God!...You feel so good!" He lasted maybe two minutes but it was enough for both of us to come. He held me and kissed me, whispering my name...so adult. And his cock finally slipped out of me. His semen and my pussy juice had mingled to make a nice stain on his blotter. But there was also a wet, white stain all over the front of his pants. He had been so eager to fuck me that he hadn't even pulled down his pants.

It was only then that we saw the group of young men and one woman in the adjoining building watching us. Nothing ever came, so to speak, of that public sex. As for how he explained the stain on his trousers to wifey...I never found out.

Losing my other cherry

2010-02-16T10:23:00.000-08:00

I didn't have many "firsts" that I could give my ex-husband, but I did save my anal cherry for him.

It wasn't a conscious thing -- I had been horny and open to most anything since college, and seemed to have an amazing ability to get myself in sexual trouble ("sexual sin," my evangelical sister, Amber, would put it). Early on, men loved fucking me from behind -- my ass was a magnet for guys, and they would tell me how sexy it looked to fuck me from behind, seeing my long back spread into my hips, and back then I also had longer red hair flopping around. I let a few men finger me in the ass and it felt good, especially the friction along the sensitive skin of my perineum. But I was a little tight girl, and I was afraid to let them fuck me there. If they tried, I would pull forward and change the position. A couple begged, but I was afraid of the pain.

My first husband was if nothing else a gentleman and a gentle, caring lover. He also had a nice, average cock -- nothing monstrous or scary. That definitely helped his cause here. For whatever reason, after I turned 30, I began to think more and more about anal sex. One long Sunday afternoon was spent in bed, fucking, sucking and him giving me exquisite cunnilingus. After a brief nap, we were at it again. Did I tell you I was wearing a white garter belt and sheer white stockings? He was fucking me missionary style and I looked up at him.

"I want you to fuck me in the ass," I said.

His face was like that of a man who had just won the lottery, but I could see he was trying to be cool about it. He got the KY out of the bedside table drawer and I got on my hands and knees. I felt his cock push back in my pussy, and my mini-orgasm contractions began almost immediately. He fucked me awhile this way, gently, rhythmically, then breaking into a hard, fast fucking ("Don't come yet," I gasped) before slowing down again.

I heard the plastic pop on the KY and felt the cool gel around the sensitive edge of my ass. He fucked me slowly and slipped a finger inside my anus. It felt good, as usual. I was very aroused, but also apprehensive. The next feeling was fuller: he has put two fingers inside and was finger-fucking my virgin ass. It felt very odd and arousing to process the sensation of his cock in my pussy and this thickness in my anus. My pussy flooded with new lubrication, mixing with the sperm I already had inside me. He pushed my shoulders down and I put my head on the sheets, my hands in front of me to steady myself.

"Does that hurt?" he asked.

"No."

His fingers went away and he pulled out. A few seconds later, the head of his cock was rubbing against my perineum. It felt great and he didn't give me time to change my mind. He pushed into my well-lubed anus. This was new. Different from the feeling of cock-in-pussy. It wasn't quite as intense physically, except for the feeling of being very filled up. Now he felt huge and even though he was fucking me slowly and the rubbing against my perineum was very, very nice...this sharp pain overtook me.

"Hurting," I managed as he pushed me forward and pulled me back with his strokes and his hands steady on my hips. But I knew he was a gentleman, so I added, "Don't stop." I had no pain when I lost my pussy cherry -- I was an athletic girl -- so this was new and I had nothing to compare it.

I tilted my pelvis and it hurt less. I thought about what a taboo I was breaking considering my repressed upbringing and almost came from the mental turn-on alone. Pain and pleasure. "Fuck me in the ass," I half groaned, half screamed. And he did, until he screamed and ejaculated inside me.

How long did he last? To me it was about twenty minutes -- he claimed it was about five. I hurt for days afterward. But we were back at it soon (pun intended), and I learned how to angle myself to handle it. He grew to love it, not only because he loved my ass, but because he got into the taboo turn-on thing, as well. And he was always good never to try to fuck my pussy after he had been inside my ass. Anal sex was never my favorite, but I do love it in its special way, especially when it brings out my inner submissive. I've had big guys try to fuck me in the ass, but they can rarely get far inside. My ex -- he could do deep and it got to where it felt great, and I loved feeling semen leak out of my ass. So forbidden. Linda Sue, you bad bad bad girl.

Eyes on me

2010-02-08T11:49:00.000-08:00

The snow in D.C. was absolutely gorgeous. So what the heck have I been doing that would please you? Not much. It's just too risky right now.

Still, I went out before the big snow, wearing a short skirt under my good winter coat, went to a couple of my favorite watering holes. It's nice to feel the eyes on me. And believe me, you can almost physically feel the lust. It's something most of you guys will never get, sorry to say. The legs men are especially appreciative -- in my experience they're more likely to "get" the whole woman. But even the one-note tits guys were probably looking. I still have good legs. One pickup attempt, but...no. Always fun to see the dates' getting angry when their men are staring at me.

So now I have to reach into my memory for some true tales from my past...

Things have been

2010-01-08T11:11:00.000-08:00

kind of somber and yucky at work lately. Nuff' said. Not getting any, either.

Letter from hot empty nesters

2009-12-18T10:46:00.000-08:00

Randy and Debbie tell me that now their three children are grown, they are rediscovering the joys of sex. I'll let them (mostly Randy) tell it from here:

I don't think we could ever handle the mental stress of anything physical outside of our marriage, but the images I/we get reading your blog together has put some rocket fuel in our romance with each other. It has been invigorating to me to discover that women with your mindset toward sex exist; I think Debbie regards you as somewhat strange and intriguing...

Sunday night several weeks ago, we were home finishing light chores and getting ready for Monday work week. Neither of us was particularly horny at that moment, but it was dinnertime and I wanted to eat without any hassles of preparation so we decided to go to a local favorite Italian restaurant and split a main course. On a whim, I suggested we pick out the clothes we wanted each other to wear just for fun and see where it might lead.

I had her dress in a white garter, with matching stockings and lace bra, then covered it with a nice blouse and slacks. She had me wear a black G string under nice jeans and polo shirt. Just as we left, I got the idea to grab a vibrating egg with remote on a wire and stuffed it in my pocket unbeknownst to her. We sat side by side in a booth and ordered a tasty chicken dish with wine.

As we waited and talked, I began to sneak crotch massages on her between waiter visits. She enjoyed it, but she was nervous, afraid of someone seeing my hand in her lap. However, when I pulled the egg out and began to massage her with that, it pleasantly surprised her and she relaxed more and enjoyed it. She took over the positioning of the toy and I kept my hands in my lap under the table. The egg is very quiet and much less obvious that anything is going on. "Keep it on low," she said, when I tried to increase it to the higher of four speeds. "It will keep me interested in just the right way". I complied and let it do its work while we sipped our wine and shared our food. By the time we were departing our brains had begun to release the magic chemicals, she was "bed ready" and so was I.

Now, I cannot explain my love for lingerie. I suppose it has something to do with seeing my mother wear it in the 50s and 60s and it leaving a mental imprint in my sexual development as a youngster. However, when Debbie gets down to her underwear of lacy bra and nylon hose and garter I am ready run over broken glass through a fence of barbed wire to get to her. Especially when I see that dark-haired pussy, peeking out between the garter straps. I want to lick and touch and rub her all over, most of all I want to eat and fuck her.

We shed clothes quickly once we got home. The foreplay was electric as we got down to our underwear. She was the first one to score crotch, taking my penis into and out of her mouth, sucking, swirling, squeezing, stroking, building my anticipation. I think my brain cells began to wire electrical connections to the nerve endings in my penis. The connections got stronger and faster. Information was flying back and forth between my mind and dick. I was reduced to a raging, throbbing, erection. My hands were wanting anything of hers erogenous that I could stimulate. I had to settle for her breasts for starters, knowing the grand prize will come soon.

Her bra came off and I began squeezing and rolling the nipples in my fingers finding the right amount of pressure to use, watching for signs of pain or pleasure from her. Finally, she moves and sits on my stomach. Leaning forward her torso became parallel to mine and her soft breast flesh fell within reach of my mouth. I sucked her hard, alternating between the majority of her breast and the pointed swollen nipples. Her twat was pressed into my stomach looking for contact of any kind. She continued moving up. My kisses now found her abdomen and coursed across the top of her garter, I love the silky feel of the garter fabric.

I had an urgent desire to get my mouth on her wonderful snatch. Eventually, my arms moved under her and grabbed her to raise her upright, aligning the opening of her garter above my longing lips and tongue. “You are so beautiful” I whispered to her. She was very moist and her pussy had a fresh clean smell, not too strong, and her flower pedals were already showing signs of engorgement. Debbie lowered that wonderful bush to my face, and I began to enjoy my dessert. She is wonderful to eat and soon her inner lips had swollen to the tightest I had ever remembered them to be. Her pussy was flared open and begging to be fucked.

I spun out from under her, pushed her into doggie position and began to shove my prick into her from behind. She moaned when I finally reached maximum penetration and began to thrust in and out. Debbie picked up the Hitachi magic wand, flicked it on low and pressed it to her clit as we continued fucking. I reached my right hand to her head and wove my fingers through her brown hair to the scalp and began to pull. My left hand grabbed her C cup tits hanging down and I massaged and squeezed them. The position was awkward for me, so it did not last long and I had to retreat and grab her hips. Nevertheless, the count down to lift off is now irreversible. She began to make a stifled screaming noise as her cunt clamped down on my swelling penis and I got the wonderful sensation that I could control this pleasure trip I was on with the speed of my thrusts, I raced to join her climax and soon begin pumping my semen toward the nether reaches of her pussy. My heart was pounding and oxygen seemed scarce for a few moments as my orgasm raged through me and into her. When she felt me cum it took her to a higher level and there was a fleeting moment when we both felt we had left the planet.

We both fell to our side and try to stay coupled as long as we could, savoring the preciousness of the moment. She was still quivering from aftershocks. Later before drifting off to sleep we shared a kiss and I looked into her eyes and said “Those Italians sure can cook”. We laughed together and resumed our tangle of arms and legs. Debbie and I lay touching in some fashion throughout the night sleeping fitfully and hoping we could recapture some of the same electricity in the morning. There are no words to express my feelings for her at that time. I just know I have a burning love for her that goes deep into my soul. I hate that I must pick myself out of bed the next day and go to work, but I do, and like an addict on drugs, I begin to think how I must have that experience with her again.

Debbie has become much more open sexually with me the last couple of years and it has revitalized our marriage. We have experienced things that we missed for 30 years, and now both wish we had been more open to trying and discussing new ideas in our sex life. The other day she described a masturbation session to me that she had had while I was at work. The thought of her stepping out and loving herself and then sharing it with me was a big turn on. It was an opening of her soul and was exclusive to me. Her questions like “Do you like it when I squeeze my breasts as you suck them and watch me” reveal the inhibition she has overcome in recent months. I love it of course. I love anything that heightens her pleasure and takes her to the land of orgasm. It is a curious thing to me that some men lack the motivation to make their love partner climax. They only focus on their own selfish needs.

I believe that sexually active women are generally programmed and even better psychologically equipped to make sure their partner’s needs are met, more so than men are. It amazes me when Debbie brings me to climax and then gently rebuffs my attempts to bring her to orgasm saying that she is fine and just wants to relax in the tenderness of the moment. I feel like I have stolen from her and not returned the loving favor, but she is insistent that she is quite content. I can count on one hand the number of times that I have turned the tables and climaxed her without a reciprocal orgasm.

Tell me why

2009-12-03T14:36:00.000-08:00

I'm fascinated by the current poll. I would draw the line at stuff that hurts or is yucky. I'm in this for pleasure, not pain -- and I know the difference. But I'm really interested in the women who don't want their pussies licked. Why not? And why won't you go down on a man? And you guys who won't lick pussy. Why not!?

Not judging. Just interested. Please leave a comment -- it's totally safe. You can just check "anonymous" if you want. Or send me an email. Explain why these things are turn offs. Thanks!

A very, very bad boy

2009-11-27T10:54:00.000-08:00

About an hour after David left, Chad came over. He looked very troubled and earnest. We sat on the sofa and he took his hands in mine and confessed that he had been unfaithful. I still had David's come in my pussy. I wasn't going to blurt this out, of course. The way I keep my pleasure separate from my emotional health (and professional viability) is through stealth, lies and compartments. "You're like a man that way," my ex-husband said. Now Chad was looking very guilty and worried. It was incredibly sweet.

I got down on my knees and nuzzled against his crotch. I felt his penis start to grow down his right leg. "Are you mad at me?" he asked.

"That depends on how you confess," I said. If nothing else, I am very good at interviewing suspects and gaining confessions -- but not this way at work, of course. I looked up at him, then unzipped his slacks and reached into his boxers.

"You have to tell me everything. What was her name?"

He hesitated until I had his cock out in the open air and kissed its head.

"L-l-l-lauren..."

"Mmmmm." I gently rubbed his shaft with two fingers and licked very lightly.

"Did she suck your cock?"

"Yes."

By this time he was completely hard. Chad's cock is an amazing thing. It's too big and long to stick straight up, but it was elevating above the fabric, bouncing toward my mouth. I took him in as far as I could and sucked him. "Is she as good as me?"

"No," he moaned.

"Tell the the truth or I'll stop." I quit even touching him.

"NO!" I was aroused, too. Territorial aroused. I used to be jealous; now I try to channel that impulse into just being territorial, and getting the joy of the voyeur.

I went back to lightly jerking his shaft and licking it. Licking it like a lollypop on the head, up and down the shaft, gently nibbling.

"Did you shower before you came over?"

"Of course."

I punched him in the solar plexus. Not too hard. "You're a bad boy. I can't taste Lauren on your cock. I can't smell her pussy..." Any discomfort he felt went away as his cock, mind of its own, rose up in full glory. I lightly sucked him as I unbuckled his belt, undid the button of the slacks and slid them and his underwear down. He cooperated fully. He was already breathing hard and his balls were tight.

"Did you fuck Lauren?" He admitted he had. Twice the night before.

"Just twice?" Licked the shaft, nibbled at the edge of the head. My warm hand caressed his balls. "Did she like it."

"I think so." Such a modest lad for such a well-endowed one. I made him tell me more. Lauren was 22, a girl his age, but she wasn't intimidated by his size. She took almost all of him inside. She was a moaner, not a screamer. Lauren had never had such a large cock before, or so she said. I just kept the tension going, licking a little, stopping, sucking for awhile, stopping. He was getting very, very aroused relating his adventure. I kept asking for details. What did her pussy look like? Did you try to fuck her in the ass? Swallow or spit?

"Bad boy," I said. "Don't even try to come yet." I gripped the root of his shaft hard. "Does she have big tits?"

"Uhn-huh...no..."

"Oh, you like legs and ass...." It was no use. I felt his long shaft pulse so I went down on him and after the second rotation of my mouth he filled it with tasty semen, yelling in his orgasm. Yelling my name. An essential for a gentleman: Know the name of the woman to whom you are making love at that moment. He came in three strong spurts and I swallowed as fast as I could. Until the last load, which I held in my mouth and rose up to French kiss him, make him share it with me, the come I got instead of young Lauren.

It didn't take long before we were in the bed. I made him lick me until I came -- he was imbibing my pussy juice mixed with David's semen. Then we were fucking. Did I imagine he had picked up some confident new moves with Lauren? Chad fucked me in all sorts of positions, coming twice more, forgetting Lauren at least for awhile. I was happy for him, and relieved that he won't be trying to fall in love with me. I'd been fucked four times in just a few hours, had a stomach full of come. I was tired and happy.

How I spent my day (getting) off

2009-11-18T10:44:00.000-08:00

It was a wonderfully exhausting couple of days, starting with a day off Monday.

My new married man, David, came over and fucked me on the floor just a few steps inside the door. He likes to take me and be masterful, which as you know, appeals to a certain submissive side (when I want it). Kisses and caresses and a steady but sure push on my waist down to the throw rug, where my jeans and panties came off. He was in a suit and just pulled down his pants enough as he mounted me and fucked me hard, his tie sometimes lashing against my face. My ass was hard against the rug and the floor, so I felt every thrust deep in my pussy.

I wrapped my legs against him and fucked him back, doing a little circular motion with my hips, feeling my orgasm starting with little contractions. Then he slung my ankles over his shoulders and really rammed into me, his balls slamming against my bare ass. I could tell he was so into my loud responsiveness...encouraging him with "fuck me" and "David!" and "fuck me hard" and various calling on my higher power. He came with a loud moan and fell on top of me.

For all you size junkies, he's average, nicely thick, good cock head. It allows us to do things, if you get my drift. About an hour later, he had me face down on the bed. "I want you to fuck me in the ass," I said. We were completely naked by that point (his knees were still red from fucking me on the floor!). With some KY help, he easily slipped inside. His wife Linda had never let him fuck her in the ass, and he came almost immediately. I made him stay there, half-erect, as I just felt that nice cock in my forbidden zone and all the juices slipping out of my anus and pussy. I'm also a sheet clencher when fucked from behind, which turns guys on. But it just comes...pun intended...naturally. No artifice there.

I also learned his Linda won't play dress-up. I'll remedy that next time. At least with this affair he won't risk calling out the wrong name when he's back home fucking wifey.

That night, Chad came by. The fun was just beginning.

A surprise at a party

2009-11-04T14:00:00.000-08:00

Things had been pretty dull lately — Wendy is trying to reconcile with her husband, and only coming by occasionally for some guilt-laden orgasms. Chad is busy in school. And I've been working like hell — all the nuts out there stockpiling ammo, threatening the president and others. What a country!

On Saturday night, I went to a relatively fancy party of a girlfriend out in Maryland and of course got into trouble. It was crowded and lubricated with booze. I was wearing a killer miniskirt ensemble. Pretty soon I could see this guy had his radar lock on me. He glided over: Dark, wavy hair, broad shoulders, seasoned handsome face, well-dressed. Introduced himself as David. Oh, and the blonde next to him was his wife, Linda. (Weirdly, this is not the first time something like this has happened to me — some men are really into certain names).

As the party progresses, we keep "running into" each other — he wants to talk, and much more. I'm horny and a superb flirt. But he is, too and I'm attracted to him. Blonde Linda is giving me daggers.

About an hour into things, I went out into the garden to get some air — honestly, it was amazingly stuffy and hot with that many people crowded into the house. Outside, it was cool on my bare legs. I was in a little grotto daydreaming, when I feel hands on my shoulders. I turn around and David is giving me this tiny, knowing smile. I let him keep his hands there, and in a moment they're down on my arms, then cupping my breasts. I hear myself give an audible sigh and I can feel his cock hard against my ass. He gently rubs my nipples and nestles his face in my hair. "My God, you are beautiful," he says. Any woman who's forty wants to hear that. "I have the right name, too," I say.

The next thing I know his penis is inside me and he's fucking me and I'm fucking him back. He was very slick in his moves, very sure of what he wanted. I am bent forward, my skirt raised and panties slipped aside, my hands resting on a low wall as he takes me from behind. And there is some taking involved...he just pushed me forward, bent me over...I felt his fingers pulling my panties aside and then the head of his cock was sliding into me. It felt great, as did the forbiddenness of it. The talk and laughter from the house made it seem like we were fucking for an audience. He took me with long, hard strokes, but had a firm hold on my pelvis so I wasn't going anywhere. He didn't last that long, but neither did I. I let out a muffled moan as my orgasm shook me and he came immediately, moaning too. We just stood that way for several minutes. Then he slipped out, turned me around and kissed me passionately. Our first kiss.

I didn't see him until I was about to leave — happy and full of come. He and blonde Linda were outside arguing. I went quietly to my car.

I didn't expect to hear from David again. But I did...

I'll keep you posted.

Happy birthday, part two

2009-09-17T13:12:00.000-07:00

I was amazed at how things were working out. I had no plan, only a hot hope...and now Chad was fucking Wendy in my bedroom.

It wasn't long before I quietly pushed open the door and slipped inside the room. Neither noticed me. I sat in the chair near the foot of my big bed and watched. My panties were thoroughly soaked as was part of my little black dress. I didn't dare move. If I broke the spell, the magical alignment where everybody had left their inhibitions at the door, the evening might end in disaster.

Chad was on top of Wendy in a classic missionary position that I find very sexy. He raised himself up on his arms to look at her, and they were locked on each other as he fucked her. And, what a fucking. In the ambient light, I could see his huge cock disappearing all the way inside her, then pulling out, then pistoning back inside. Her knees were pulled up, her ankles rested against the backs of his thighs, and she gripped his ass tightly. His tight balls slapped right up on her butt as he reached maximum depth. I didn't know how she could handle that length, but she was loving it. And I mean loving it...moaning, whimpering, giving little screams every few minutes, calling out half-words. He was into it as well...no strong, silent type this young man.

The room smelled of sex. Pussy odor and sweat. I could hear the wet puckery sounds of him entering her, pulling out, going back in. He started riding her higher up and she really went crazy. It was nothing like the way she reacted when I licked her, that slow buildup. I realized she might never have been fucked so well, considering her dead-battery husband and boorish married lover. Oh, if the crowd down at the office could see mousy Wendy now. Chad adjusted, raised her legs over his shoulders. He slid in very slowly, and she gave a deep moan. "Ohmygod!" Then his cock pulled almost all the way back out...quite the sexual athlete here...and slammed all the way in. "Ahhhhhohmygod!!" Again and again. I felt my fingers on the inside of my thigh but made myself wait. No self-gratification. I knew I'd get mine soon.

I wondered what she would think if she knew he was 18 years old. At that moment, she probably wouldn't have cared. They both came in a loud concussion of screams. And then he carefully let her legs down and gently lay on top of her, holding her close, letting his wondercock stay inside her, stroking her hair, whispering her name (I had taught him all this; what a difference from the young guys who first fucked me when I was around that age).

Neither seemed surprised when I slid naked onto the mattress next to them. Both had this glassy look of the sexually happy. The odor of semen and pussy was like fine wine. "Oh..." Wendy managed, and touched my face tenderly. We kind of naturally rearranged ourselves, with Chad climbing off and lying on his back. A long white string of semen followed his penis out of her pussy. His cock was still half hard as I licked their juices off. Then I licked, sucked and nibbled a very happy Wendy, glorying in their mixed juices. She was spent but moaned and rubbed her legs against my shoulders.

It wasn't long before Chad took control and gave me an unusually forceful doggy fucking. I was so dilated and wet that I took more of him than ever before without discomfort. I was so aroused that I had my first orgasm almost immediately. I think Wendy was sucking on my nipples from below...I kinda lost track by that point. The edges of my eyes were exploding colors and my feet and lower legs were burning with orgasm. He could feel my pussy contracting against his cock as he grabbed my ass and fucked me like a wild man. Another orgasm hit me like a bullet out of nowhere...with a happier result. I could hear this explosive scream and realized it was me and I was both floating and tightly impaled in Chad's cock. I fell forward onto Wendy, who cradled me and kissed me. And I fell asleep like some selfish twenty-year-old guy. When I woke up, they were both between my legs licking me, kissing each other...god, it felt good. Later, they brought me a piece of cake and we took turns feeding each other bites.

I was out in the field for a week before I saw Wendy again. She blushed immediately and smiled. "Hope you had a happy birthday, Linda."

Oh, I did.

Happy birthday, part one

2009-09-10T14:03:00.000-07:00

I turned 40. The only thing that kept me from being neurotic and depressed about it was the small dinner party I had at my place. The invitee list was small: Chad and Wendy.

We enjoyed martinis and then I cooked while the two of them made conversation. Wendy gave me this knowing smile, as if she figured out I was up to something. But they seemed to get along well -- a good 'tini will help, but as I've said, Chad has social skills well beyond his age. I could hear him getting Wendy to talk passionately about a new book on the Middle East. (One challenge to a dinner like this is that there's so much Wendy and I can't talk about to outsiders).

After dinner, we retired back to my cozy living room and I made sure Chad and Wendy sat on the small sofa. I poured a fine port and sat across from them on my vintage Eames chair. We were about talked down, about to that point in the evening when one starts to thank the hostess and head for the Metro, when Chad leaned over and kissed Wendy, first lightly, then passionately. Her arms went around him and embraced him. I felt a warm, wetness between my legs (I was wearing a little black dress, just to set the mood).

Chad pulled back and Wendy was flushed a bright red.

"I...I...Linda, I should be going..."

I winked at her. "Just let it happen."

And did she. Wendy grabbed Chad's shirt collar and pulled him back again. This time the kissing was serious and pretty soon she had her hands all over him, including down his left leg, where his fine cock was stretching the fabric. I can imagine what she was thinking. I just sat there. Everybody was toasty from the booze, but I didn't want to move too fast and blow the whole thing up. I've opened up Wendy a lot, but she's still a suburban soccer mom with all that baggage. He stroked her face and hair, kissed along her neck and her ears; I had taught him well.

I walked over to the two of them and stroked both their heads. "You guys need to get a room." They looked up, and I nodded toward my bedroom. "It's okay," I continued. "I have some work to catch up on."

Chad stood quickly and led Wendy into the bedroom. Days before, I had talked to Chad and asked him if he would be open to some mischief. He was, of course -- he's a horny 18-year-old! Wendy hadn't been prompted at all, but over time I had told her about threesomes and orgies I had taken part in. Part of her was a little shocked. But most of her was very, very intrigued. I could tell most of all by how horny she was to play with me after I had told these stories.

The two of them went into the bedroom. The door closed. I sat and nursed the port for several minutes before rising and opening the door ever so slightly. Then I went back and sat on the sofa, stretching out my legs, turning off the floor lamp and sipping...and listening.

Wendy is not a major screamer. But it wasn't long before I heard the first one of the night, sharp, primal, exquisite. I tried really hard not to involuntarily squeeze my legs together and grind my pelvis. I was hoping I could join the fun, too...

Insecurities

2009-08-31T13:48:00.000-07:00

As the poll shows, readers have their share of insecurities. I sympathize especially with the guys who have to follow a better-endowed lover. There's an itch you can't scratch. It's not the same as a small-breasted girl. I realized early on that the world is full of legs-and-ass men, who appreciate what my body has to offer. And also men who love small, pert breasts with prominent nipples, like mine -- in fact, some guys are turned off by huge tits. (For those who are total "tit men," there's my sister Amber). Still, I stand by my contention that a good lover can have an average or even small penis and lots of crappy lovers have big dicks.

As a former cheerleader who can still proudly get in her uniform -- and does, for appreciative men -- I also get the former cheerleader insecurity. As much as you want to say, "Hey, I was a national merit scholar finalist, not some cheerleader bimbo," men have a cheerleader jones. (And I was a national merit scholar finalist, too). For the guys, I added fighter pilot, but I'm sure there are others...rock musician, author, whatever.

Maybe the realest thing is "he or she won't do the things they did with the previous lover." This is a killer. I've never been that way -- although I won't let Chad try to fuck me in the ass, yet. No offense to him, I'm just too young for a colonoscopy! But I've had plenty of girlfriends who pulled this crap with new lovers, and then were shocked that he was hurt or pissed off. One, another Linda, had a drawer full of sexy lingerie -- but wouldn't wear it or buy new stuff for the very nice man she started dating. She did wear it for the bad boys.

Crying out the wrong name! This was how I discovered my ex-husband was cheating on me. My name is not Rachel. It made me crazy, but it also made me territorial horny, which is an extremely high state of arousal. Nowadays, I probably would have let him have her -- even invite her into our bed. But I was younger and more old fashioned then. I've never called another man's name...and guys really like it when you call their name while being fucked. Women, too. I love to hear my name whispered...or shouted as he comes inside me or shoots into my mouth. I had a friend, Jennifer, who made the mistake of calling out her husband's business partner while hubby was fucking her from behind. They weren't an item, but she was hot for him, facing forward away from her husband, letting her fantasy life run wild, and...woops. I'll cop to thinking about other men while getting fucked or licked, even a sexy guy I saw on the street.

Friends can be problematic. I've continued to fuck old boyfriends after we were officially seeing other people -- sometimes for years. I even fucked my ex-husband a few times after our spectacular, jealous-psycho bitch breakup. The sex was incredibly hot... Of course my new lovers didn't know.

The race and same-sex thing doesn't matter to me. Never has. Indeed, it's kind of sexy. But lots of people don't share that, even if they won't admit it. What's your insecurity or the ghost in your bedroom? The comments section awaits...

Younger men, scheming a 3-some, older women

2009-08-12T10:07:00.000-07:00

Playing with Chad. Sometimes when he sleeps, I watch him with his lean, young body and his youthful face and I think: God, this is strange. I'm soon to turn 40 and here I am in bed with this...boy. Just a random thought. But when I wake him with a blowjob and see that magnificent cock spring to life, all those adult thoughts go away.

I've never been a deep-throater. I know some men get off on that, but my gag reflex is too sensitive. He seems very happy to have me get about a third of him in my mouth, then lick his shaft all over, then suck his head while I jerk him off with my hand, then use the other one to stroke his balls. He really likes this. If he's fucking me on top, I reach around and stroke his tight sack and in just a few moments he's shaking and moaning and then coming. Love all that come, whether it's in my pussy or my stomach. Older men have their charms, but generating lots of semen isn't one of them.

Chad is a gentle lover and I want to reinforce this with him. He could really hurt a girl. He could drive them off. In fact, he told me about a girl his age who saw his penis and called the whole thing off right there. She was too afraid to have him inside her. I keep trying different positions, but still can't get him all the way inside. Just can't. Oh, but it feels good...at least once we get going. It does hurt at first, every time. It's like I am revirginating. I tilt my pelvis and relax and take more in. I've tried different tilts as he fucks me from behind. Still can't take him all. He's not complaining. My best move is riding him, with me almost up on his belly and my legs trailing behind. That way I can be in total contact, but take as much of him as I can, riding up and back, over and over. I couldn't just sit on him.

I am scheming. What about a threesome with Wendy? Oh, my sweet friend is both fragile and growing more and more adventurous. She is getting horny now that she's really having orgasms and realizing sex can be pleasurable for her. I may broach this.

Readers ask. What's my favorite penis length. I like them all. Honestly -- and I mean this -- what's attached to the cock is what's most important. A man who is: intelligent; giving; communicative; interested in me and the world; can talk about books and ideas, and if I wish, take me out to the symphony dressed to the nines (and enjoy it). Sure, I've played with bad boys, but everybody has their deviant streak. An old lover, a college professor, sometimes bedded university (female) cops with high-school diplomas. As a lover, he must be giving -- must really be into giving me pleasure, especially orally. He must be loving, as in holding me after I come. This is possible in all shapes and sizes. All things considered, I'd take a thick eight-incher (which is well bigger than average, contrary to what you see on the Web). But it often doesn't work that way. Many guys with big cocks think all they have to do is show up. Some of my very best lovers have been average and even smaller, but highly skilled.

Readers ask. They're young men who want to bed older women. The appeal is real: Older women are often more sensual; they're past their "I'm the center of the universe" solipsism of young things; they're open to sexual pleasure. First thing: Don't break their hearts. It's a long way down at our age. Be honest about what you're after. Generally, these women will want "mature" young men -- guys who like women, who are good listeners and communicators, who are smart and read books, who clean up well and can dress better than ghetto hoods. In bed, they want someone who will give pleasure, not just take. Many have been through selfish marriages, with a guy who just humps them. Learn to love giving oral sex to a woman. She can tell if you love it. And she will reward you. Often intellectual guys have only or predominantly had older lovers until their reach their thirties -- the women their age when they are 18 or 25 just aren't interested; but the older women are. Be careful if she's still married; it may be a great match -- she's not going to want to marry you and you can be her boy toy, but make sure she can be discreet, and hubby is at a safe distance. As I say, be gentle and honest. Enjoy!

Foot-long

2009-07-24T13:10:00.000-07:00

After twenty years of being sexually active, it was bound to happen.

I met Chad at Politics & Prose, the great independent bookstore in D.C. He's tall, broad-shouldered, with a classically handsome face. I'd seen him before, and the second time we started talking. We continued the talk over a drink. I let him ask me out.

He's 18 and a student. Me? I work for the government. "Really, what department?" The Department of Justice. "Really, do you do?" I change the subject. He's rare for that age cohort: he can talk about books and ideas, wants to know about me. It's not about sports. Anyway...I was attracted to him, but 18? That's old enough to be my son. Scary. He wants to know if I've had children (no). I let him ask me out twice more. On that second date, we went to my place and made out. I let him take off my blouse and suck my nipples...taught him to suck hard. Then I stopped it. I didn't even feel his crotch. I was still ambivalent.

After the third date, we went to my place and started kissing again. This time he really had me going with the kissing, neck kissing and nibbling and working on my breasts. He really had me going. He slipped off my jeans and my panties. Spent a long time kissing my feet, sucking my toes, kissing up the inside of each leg (nice moves for a young man...for any man). About ten seconds into him putting his tongue on my clit, I had a mammoth, screaming orgasm. We hadn't even gotten beyond my cushy living room sofa.

I was still shaking and whimpering as I led him into the bedroom and started to undress him. His slacks and boxers came down together with one firm yank.

He had the biggest cock I've ever seen.

"It's almost twelve inches," he said simply. And he wasn't exaggerating. It was very hard but hung down at an angle by its sheer size as I stroked it and gulped inside. The biggest I had ever taken all the way in was eight inches. I sat on the bed and licked it, shaft to head, cupping those young, tight, sperm-filled balls. He was breathing heavily and moaning. His head was large and prominent, the shaft average. The length...amazing. And, contrary to stereotypes, he's white.

I lay back on the bed, drenching wet inside, but unsure I could handle him. I pulled him on top and gently guided his cock into me. His cockhead made me gasp. Thank God, unlike the men I fucked in college, he didn't try to immediately ram inside me. Slowly, I let him enter me, holding my hands against his stomach. He propped himself on his arms, an angelic smile on his face. OMG, it felt good. I was very filled up, but looking down, he had a good four or five inches still on the outside. This is one of the visual things that really turns me on -- watching a cock go in and out of my pussy. He fucked me at a slow rhythm, and I was seeing this huge shaft go in and out. I tilted my pelvis and raised me legs to take more of him. But when he his my cervix, he could tell from the look on my face. Then it was great...felt it everywhere inside me, felt so filled up. Unlike anything before. He gave me a great fucking and I moaned and came again, then he moaned and pumped all that young come inside me.

Afterward, he told me he had been with only one other woman. Sharon was 40, had had three kids, and loved his size. But she also taught him some moves, including how to fuck smaller women. Go, Sharon. We fucked three more times that night, including me on top riding him from a squatting position which gave me control over how much of him I took in, and doggy. I forget how many times I came. I also can't remember the last time I had so much sperm inside me. Well...actually, I can, but that's another story.

Notes from the field

2009-06-26T10:02:00.000-07:00

Things you do on a boring stakeout when your partner is another female agent: I'll call her April -- 29, killer body, perfect needle-straight blond hair. But she admits she doesn't really know how to suck cock. So I got a couple of bananas and showed her a few tricks. Also had some fun -- used my hand against my head to simulate some lout forcing my head down on his penis. Anyway, the next Monday April walked by and gave me a big smile. "It worked!" she chirped. Happy to be of assistance...

The Lieutenant deployed. Before he left, we spent an entire Saturday and night together. Who cares what he told his fiancee -- if he marries her, it will be a disaster, but that's just me being bitchy. Anyway, he fucked me five times (!) and I went down on him for a long, loving fellatio session and swallowed that special nasty semen for a last time. It was sweet and fun. I try not to mix love and pleasure...this worked out just fine. I will miss that finely trained body on top of me, fucking me slowly as I run my hands across his chest and abs. Sigh...

Wendy. We continue to get together from time to time. The past month has been difficult. I'll admit that I use her shame about being attracted to a girl in order to keep her from falling in love with me. It's a fling. Have fun, babe. She loves to be held, something neither her husband nor boyfriend will do. She loves being kissed, and it's true that kissing a girl is a sweet, singular thing -- not, I suspect, what M on M kissing would be. But who knows. Anyway, I've taught her to love 69; to get her to give and take and not get too distracted by me licking her pussy -- she needs to lick back. Don't know where this is going...

As for the poll. I could tell you stories. I'm too young to have experienced the freedom of people in the 1970s and earlier to join the Mile High Club -- fucking in an airline restroom, or wherever. This was before airplanes became airborne prisons. And I am fairly tall and long-legged, so it would be hard for me to fit. I did get fingered under a blanket on one flight. When I was a student studying in Europe, I had a wonderful fingering on a train by a handsome young German. It went on and on, under my skirt, my panties pushed aside, the rhythm of the rails and swaying of the car adding to the pleasure. When I came it was all I could do to avoid screaming. But the fact that people around knew what was going on, and seemed to like it, added to my pleasure. And of course, I've sucked more than a few cocks in cars. Would love to fuck in a department store window. Wish you readers would tell me more of your stories...

More cops are accidentally shooting themselves with Glocks. Talk about premature ejaculation. Glad we use longer, thicker, longer-lasting...oh, I'm getting distracted...firearms.

Let me just get down on my knees right now...

2009-06-24T10:44:00.000-07:00

This is probably one for the ladies. But a generous (!) reader sends these along.

"Before reading Linda Sue's Blog":

"After reading Linda Sue's Blog:"

Yummy!

Don't give up on me...

2009-06-18T10:40:00.000-07:00

Work is just a killer right now. In the meantime, lots of juicy juicy in the archives.
XO
LS

The goodbye fuck

2009-05-12T13:07:00.000-07:00

I love juggling multiple lovers, especially when they don't know about each other. It's thrilling. The ultimate fuck you to my sexually repressed upbringing.

So I've got the Lieutenant. And I've got Wendy. Young and strong, fuck me all night. And this dear woman who is so needy for real physical loving. I had a brief fling with an older woman years ago -- it weirded me out because it was clear she was a lesbian looking for a young wife. In Wendy's case, I am the power player. My late-night fear: She might fall in love with me.

Wendy is discovering kink. The other night she came over after being fucked twice. Her married lover had snuck away for a quickie after work. And her husband -- perhaps sensing something new in the sexual time-space continuum -- had also banged her. I had her sit on my face while I tongue-fucked her, tasting the mingled semen of both men. Then I had her come down so I could French kiss her with the delightful concoction. Both fucks had been fast and graceless, but she loved tasting the results from my mouth. We both came violently in a long bout of love-making.

What I really want to talk about is the "goodbye fuck." I think this is exclusively a female phenomenon, but I'd be interested in what readers think.

By "goodbye fuck," I mean when a woman chooses to sleep with a male colleague who is about to move to a new job or assignment in another location. I've done this a couple of times, and the delight comes from a couple of sources. First, you can sexually sample a guy you've had your eye on, but for whatever reason never bedded him. Second, it's a guaranteed one-night stand -- he's leaving -- and yet it's safe, knowable, controllable.

(ADDENDUM: Let me explain more about what I mean when I say "female phenomenon." Guys will generally fuck anything, anytime. Women generally control whether it happens -- and usually it doesn't; think of all the girls and women you wanted to fuck and never had a chance. So to me, in most cases, only the woman has the power of the sexual landscape to bestow a real "goodbye fuck" on a lucky guy. Maybe some incredibly charismatic men can do the same, but I am a little skeptical. Even these guys would have already fucked the woman, if they were attracted and had the sexual power to get what they wanted.)

I gave one goodbye fuck to a professor in graduate school just after I graduated. I knew he had his eye on me and that he liked redheads -- his wife was one. I came by his office, said goodbye and he gave me a hug. We lingered in each other's arms. He kissed me, lightly at first -- and then when I didn't resist, he slipped his tongue between my teeth. We went back to my apartment and fucked twice that afternoon before he had to go home. Quite a thick cock for such a slender, short geeky guy. The next day I left town to begin my training in Virginia.

Another goodbye fuck was with an older male colleague, who was leaving for an overseas posting. We had a drink with some of the gang and he walked me to the Metro station. There we embraced and I kissed him. We had quite a little PDA going that continued into a hotel room and an all-night romp. I let him fuck me in the ass, too. Next day, gone. I know both guys loved it because they were thinking exactly what I was: No strings.

I think about this knowing the LT will be gone soon. He's got to punch his ticket in Afghanistan if he's going to keep rising, and he's eager to get out there. It's that leaving vibe that has his girlfriend eager to get married. Sigh. I can't give him the classic goodbye fuck because we're already screwing several times a week. But I'll give him a farewell he won't forget.

Teaching Wendy

2009-05-05T13:31:00.000-07:00

Sorry, gang, I've been out in the field. (Nobody got shot).

Wendy came over that night. I was ready to make martinis to help her calm down, but she kissed me at the door and let me lead her right into the bedroom. I had several candles going -- girls like this. We slowly undressed each other. She was very shy and awkward, yet very horny and curious.

Later I would learn that her husband had never licked her pussy -- he thought it was "nasty down there"; her married boyfriend doesn't, either -- so she had never experienced the kind of orgasm I gave her that first night. She was very eager to come again -- almost like a guy in college. But I really took my time and made her wait. She was shivering and shaking, clenching her legs together, as I sucked and lightly bit her breasts. They are medium-sized and very firm for a woman her age (49), and I really got into them. By the time I started tongue-fucking her pussy, she was already starting to come. I made her scream...Wendy, our quiet, strait-laced research specialist!

She went down on me clumsily, but was open to instruction...and just the idea of her down there was ramping up my already high state of arousal. Like me in my limited girl-love experience, she was fascinated by my pussy. It was very hot to see her lift her face out of my crotch and see it covered with my juices. She's quite pretty without her nerdy glasses. And a woman's tongue always feels different... Anyway, I came hard, my knees pulled up and my feet resting on her shoulders. She came up and held me, the room smelling like a pussy bomb had gone off. I made drinks and we talked a long time.

I asked her how long it took her to recover, and she didn't know. Such has been this woman's love life. So later, I started kissing and caressing her again, and pretty soon I was tongue-worshipping her lovely pussy (labia a la O'Keeffe). I pulled out my bag of sex toys, which includes a seven-inch penis, with head and veins -- I'm not that into it on my own, but with a friend... Anyway, I coaxed her into letting me "fuck" her. She was already very lubricated, but I added KY to the cock and gentle eased it into her.

She gasped and winced, so I went very slowly. But a woman's vagina is a wonderful thing and soon all seven thick inches were inside her, with the plastic balls against her ass. I gently fucked her.

"You like?"

"Ohhhh..." Head nodding vigorously.

It was very hot to see this cock going in and out of her, pulling almost all the way out, the shaft glistening with her juices, then going all the way inside...seeing the walls of her pussy expand with the cock, and her labia wrap around it and rock 'n' roll with its motions. I caressed her legs with one hand and started licking her clit as I fucked her, and pretty soon she was moaning loudly. Then she grabbed my head and had another screaming orgasm.

Definitely some potential here.

The next night I fucked the LT three times, so I got my cock, too.

Baby, we were born to run...

2009-04-23T17:15:00.000-07:00

I had another kind of ladies' room experience today. I had just washed my hands and dried them, and was preparing to leave...when Wendy walked in. She froze inside the door, looking at me doe-eyed. Suddenly she just walked over to me, took me in her arms and kissed me.

And I mean kissed me. A passionate lip-lock, with her tongue gently probing inside my mouth. I was so stunned that for a moment I didn't kiss her back. Then I returned the embrace and our tongues danced together for long seconds. Her strong pussy scent came into my nostrils. Fortunately we were alone.

She released me, her face a deep scarlet. "I'm not a lesbian," she said.

"Neither am I." I smiled and lightly ran my finger down her cheek. "Why don't you come over tonight?" She nodded.

Stay tuned.

Meanwhile, the LT is feeling pressure from girlfriend to get married. I let him tell me all this as I am giving him a long, lingering feather blowjob. In between licking and light sucking, I ask him if he really wants to get married. "No," he moans. "I don't know. I feel like I'm supposed to..."

"Feel this..." I take him deeply into my mouth and go up and down on his shaft applying just enough pressure with the muscles of my mouth that he's well on his way to coming.

Young people are so dumb. But this one can go all night. I guarantee that won't continue once girlfriend gets that ring on her finger.

The stranger

2009-04-13T13:38:00.000-07:00

I see from the most recent poll that quite a few of you have a secret fantasy to be taken roughly by a stranger. I'll tell you a story I've never told before, and you can decide if it would really be for you. This is definitely not the Harlequin romance "rape" fantasy carried around by some women.

I was 20, naive and stupid, and I hadn't learned how to fight. In other words, I couldn't control a "rough taking" for my own purposes, as I have sometimes done later. It was a typical late spring Saturday night in college, bar-hopping with girlfriends, cockteasing, drinking. I vividly remember everything, right down to what I was wearing: a khaki miniskirt and tight olive-green top, braless. I had a boyfriend at the time, but had gone out with some female friends. We were in one of the bars near campus; it was late and we were flirting with some of the louts from town. They desperately wanted to fuck us, and quietly hated us because they thought we felt we were above them (and we were). Still, there was much laughing, touching, propositioning...my pal Heather was giving each man a kiss after she did a shot of Jager.

I broke off to go pee. The bar had two unisex bathrooms with locks on the doors. I waited for a girl to finish in one and went in, starting to close the door behind me.

I never got that far.

A man was right behind me and pushed me inside, locking the door behind us. I let out a shriek but it was drowned out by the band. He was only a little taller than me, but very muscular and stocky, with skin so black it shone. I barely had noticed him hovering on the edge of our little group out at the bar. He was very drunk and I smelled the beer and cigarettes on his breath as he shoved me against the wall and mashed his mouth against me, pushing a thick, long tongue between my teeth. I flailed my arms ineffectually as he pulled up my top and roughly sucked on my nipples.

I was pinned and knew I was in real trouble, and my mind wasn't really working. Was I being raped? The thought never really came into play. Everything was overwhelmed by this masculine force and the primal insistence on what he wanted. He pushed me hard against the wall as he grabbed at my legs, fondling me under my skirt, getting big fingers under my panties.

Then I was spun hard toward the sink, barely reaching out to grab on before I ended up on the floor. I stared at the dirty porcelain as I felt my panties being literally ripped off. Then the hem of my miniskirt was pushed up on my hips and I was forced forward. His strong legs spread me almost like a cop ready to perform a frisk -- but that wasn't what he was about. A voice in my head: "You're going to get fucked..." And then, over the music, he yelled the exact words, adding some choice misogynistic terms.

He stood close behind me. Then there was a sudden, searing pain in my pussy. I didn't even have time to feel his cock about to enter me. The air was knocked out of me and I felt my pussy walls straining to fit him. I wasn't even very wet at that moment -- and I was wet almost all the time back in those days. It took several strokes before the lubrication made it easier, but he was hung and fucked like a thug. Hard and fast and like I wasn't even there. I was bent forward, heaving out with every stroke, but his strong grip was on my hips and there was always another "in" stroke coming. Sometimes it went painfully up to my cervix. I was completely in his control. I felt like his cock was so thick it would split me, a feeling that only gradually eased as I got dripping wet and my pussy changed to accommodate such a big one. I looked down and saw his pants at his ankles, undulating on the floor to his movements inside me.

I hung onto the edges of the sink and looked up to see my face, grimacing with each pounding of his shaft. Behind me, he looked smug and angry as he fucked me standing up, his mouth half open, grinning when he saw me watching us. My little skirt was hiked high and the black of his hands were amazing in contrast to the peaches-and-cream paleness of my ass. I had a little orgasm in spite of myself, which just made him fuck me more roughly.

Just as the band finished the set the room was silent enough for me to hear him grunt loudly, and I felt several spurts of semen going deep into me. Thank God I was on the pill. He kept fucking me, slower now, for several minutes, and I think he even came again. By this time my forehead was down on my arm, my eyes closed. I didn't want to look.

He pulled out as roughly as he had entered. As he pulled up his pants, I got a look at his big cock, with little ridges and swirls of our white juices on it. Even deflating, it was the biggest one I had seen so far. Then he opened the door, showing me still proned out over the sink, my legs opened, cum starting to run down my leg. I could hear his buddies applauding and knew they were debating whether to come in and take turns. Somehow I got enough strength to slam the door and lock it. I sat on the toilet and watched his semen dribble out. I didn't know how I was supposed to feel. Angry? Guilty? I mostly felt numb, and very sore. Later, as I walked back to my dorm -- my ripped panties gone, he took them as a trophy -- he kept dribbling out of me, down my shaking legs.

I was raped then and now I'd cut his balls off with a combat knife. But I'd be a liar if I didn't admit to looking back on that encounter and feeling a little aroused by the memory. People are weird that way. And as some readers have told me, I do have a latent submissive side.

Girl walks into a bar

2009-03-31T13:08:00.001-07:00

I was at one my favorite D.C. watering holes recently, wearing a skirt that just kept riding up on my thighs and a jacket cut specifically to hide my firearm. A man sidles up, sits next to me and starts talking. He's short -- maybe my height -- with tight curly gray hair and a receding hairline. A big open face with black bushy eyebrows. An off-the-rack suit. He's in town on business: A lawyer for an auto-parts maker in Akron.

So we talk. Back in Akron he's got two kids who hate him and a wife who doesn't understand him. They haven't had sex in a year and she only likes the missionary position. People will tell you the damnedest things when they're drunk, needy and want to get laid. Did I tell you that I was wearing sheer black stockings and garters? I like the feel. They make me feel sexy, the lace against my skin, the open space between stockings and panties, the feeling of ever-present naughtiness.

What do you do, he asks? I usually give my standard, "I work for the government," and let people think I'm a secretary at the Agriculture Department...whatever. This time I say, "I'm a dancer." I watch his eyes. I add, "I strip."

His eyes grow wide. "Do you like it?" He gulps his drink. "It's okay," I say.

I have this overriding whimsy to follow up and say, "I fuck for money." I am feeling edgy and horny and ready to get into trouble. He senses it. I wonder what he looks like naked. Short and squat with a paunch and a too-hairy chest and skinny middle-aged-man legs. He turns red and I look down to see his cock bulging down the left leg of his trousers. This one's hung: It looks about nine inches but not thick; all the same circumference as it runs down his leg, not tapering or flaring toward the head.

I want to say, "I fuck for money" and see what he says. He'll ask if I'm a cop and I'll say no, which is technically true, I am not local law enforcement. When he asks about money, I'll say a thousand for an hour, and we'll go back to his hotel room where he's living out of a battered Midwestern suitcase, and I'll see how much of that long dick he can get inside me. I'll do everything his boring little fat wife won't do. These thoughts have be drenched down below. I can smell myself. I know he can, too.

Unfortunately, I can quote the statutes I'll be breaking, so after awhile I finish my drink and leave. Back home, I slowly strip down to everything but my stockings, lie in bed with only the city lights flowing into the room. I come the second I touch my clit. Later, I think: Maybe he was a cop. Wouldn't that have been a hoot...until I was fired.

And now, his punishment...

2009-03-24T15:46:00.000-07:00

As you and I could have predicted, the Lieutenant came back. As we sat on my sofa he confessed that he had a girlfriend. This was no big surprise. He almost fell over when I asked him if she wanted to join us. No, sweet young Amber (her name) doesn't know about me. He wants to keep me stashed. Not that I necessarily mind being stashed under the right circumstances. Hell, just tell me. Don't slink away for days.

I made him lick my pussy for about an hour as penance and then go away without getting off himself. I asked him if he had just fucked her and if her pussy juice was still on his cock and pubic hair -- again, shock! If that had been the case, I would have sucked him off. Much to teach this nice young man. Yes, I was in bitch mode. I'll play with him more later. In the meantime, I had a nice orgasm as I clutched his close-cropped head and ground my pussy into his face. He got into it and is learning to be a fine cunning linguist. Semper Fi.

Then, the other Amber -- my sister. I just let it lie after the first phone call. Told her they needed counseling. She should kick him out if she wants. But she's also hysterically anti-sex, so I don't know what to make of her "rape" statement. Now don't flame me over that -- I take the real charge very seriously and would cut off the testicles of any guy who tried it on me (and have a nice little combat knife to do it). But she started backtracking when I questioned her about it, and it sounds as if this wasn't rape. Fact: Amber and Justin are simply a bad match. He wants sex. She doesn't. Lord, I am glad to be living on the other side of the country.

Wendy is acting weird any time I see her. I know deep down she had fun, though.

Complications

2009-03-10T18:05:00.000-07:00

I wish I could give you boys (and curious girls) a porno style ending to the Wendy saga, but real life doesn't work out that way.

After I brought her off, we went in my bedroom and I held her. She really seemed to love that. It's something many men just can't bring themselves to do. At some point, I took her hand and placed it on my breast while I kissed her. Then I put her hand down between my legs. My pussy was sopping wet, and she started to gently finger me while we kissed. I was shaking with arousal, stroking her hair, trying to ease her head in the direction of my crotch.

Suddenly, she jumps up and runs to the bathroom, barely shutting the door. I hear her throwing up, then the flushing of the toilet. We'd each had about one bottle of red wine between us. When she came back out, she looked green around the gills and staggered out to the living room. By the time I got there, she was dressing.

"I just can't, Linda," she said. "It's just not me. We can't ever do this again."

"Okay." I felt pussy juice running down my thigh. In a few minutes, the door closed and Wendy was gone. Another lover who will deny something ever happened between us. Sigh...I loved bringing her off and giving her some sensual lovemaking. She seemed like she needed it. I went back to bed, used my imagination and got myself off. Definitely not as much fun when you're flying solo. But I had Wendy's wonderful scent still on my face.

The next morning my headache was added to by a call from my sister, Amber.

"Justin raped me last night," she said. I wanted to say, How long has it been since you've fucked your husband? But I didn't. I just responded sympathetically and waited.

"He made me do things," Amber said. "He sodomized me!"

My headache was going away in a hurry. There's always been a bit of the voyeur in me. Did he fuck her in the ass or just make her suck him off -- with Amber one wouldn't know. Until she said, "I can barely walk. I don't know if I should go to the doctor..."

I asked her if she was bleeding. She said no. Ah, that neighborhood of Sodom.

"I think you'll be fine," I said. "But you and Justin need to get counseling."

"I've asked him to talk to Pastor Bob."

Great. Pastor Bob sounds like the name of a pedophile hiding inside a judgmental little prick who would tell Justin sex is only justified for making babies, but I'm a cynic. I asked where she was, and she said at home. Where was Justin? In the next room.

"Maybe you need to take (I named my nephews) and go be with mom and dad until things call down."

"I don't want to do that," Amber said. "I just don't know why he's always after me for, you know... It makes me feel so dirty. I just don't want to...I just don't know why he can't keep his hands off me, act like an adult and not an animal?"

I think: Well, maybe because he's a normal horny guy and you're a beautiful young woman -- definitely prettier than me, and with big boobs. It's not that I'm totally unsympathetic -- Justin's dick would definitely hurt getting sis's anal cherry.

Then, "When he...you know...as he was finishing with me...when he..."

"When he came?"

"When he came," she said. "When he came, he called our your name. He screamed and called out your name!"

Girl love

2009-03-04T13:28:00.000-08:00

My colleague Wendy is a braino analyst, while I continue to do the Jennifer Garner stuff, even at my advanced age. She's ten years older than me, and at 5'8" about my height and build, with permed brown hair down to her shoulders. She's an attractive woman. Wendy has been married for 25 years and tells me she and her husband haven't had sex in at least 10 years. So Wendy has affairs. Her most recent one, with an older married man, ended suddenly last night. Wendy came over for wine and whine. The guy had met her at a D.C. hotel after work, fucked her, and told her he couldn't see her anymore.

I had Frank Sinatra on the stereo, lights were low, and we were about halfway through the second bottle of fine pinot, when I opened up a little about me. The titillating and the tragic. We were sitting on the soft, but turned inward to each other, and I could see Wendy's expression change. I wasn't feeling predatory -- more protective, if anything. I leaned over and gave her the most tentative kiss on the cheek. Then on the lips. Just a little brush on the lips, with the slightest muscle tension in my mouth.

She fell into my arms and whispered "just hold me" over and over. So I did. After a few minutes, she raised herself up and kissed me passionately, running one hand down my cheek to me breast. "I've never done that before," she said.

"Feels good, no?" I pulled her to me and kissed her hard, slipping my tongue into her mouth. After a few seconds, her tongue found mine and things went from there. She had a wonderfully pungent pussy and I could smell her arousal. We were both in skirts, and along with about an hour of slow kissing, hands eventually found their ways to knees, thighs, damp panty hose.

I undressed her on the sofa, kissing and licking down her shoulders to her breastbone to her nipples. I ran circles around them with my tongue and gently sucked as she stroked my hair and breathed heavily, making little noises. My fingers worked under the elastic of her skirt and panty hose, reaching a very wet pussy. By this time she was helping me slip all this off. We made a big pile of clothes in the living room. I got down on my knees.

She has a beautiful pussy, with one lip more prominent than the other. I told her she was beautiful...something I love to hear from men...and I licked and nibbled on the inside of each thigh. Then I lightly licked across her clit, causing her to moan and shudder as she clenched my shoulders, then my head. I reached up and held her hands as she arched her back so I could get better access.

I gave her a long tongue-lashing, the way I like it, and it didn't seem to disappoint. I loved her scent, her very wet, growing wetter, wow...ran my tongue around her labia, flicked it against her clit. I could sense her lips getting engorged. Then I tongue-fucked her so deep that my nose was rubbing her clit.

"Oh...my...God," she gasped. "I...had...no...idea...!"

After a few seconds, I could taste semen...the man who had fucked her a few hours before. Now the stranger's come was on my tongue. I was about to come myself. As I move up toward her clit, she started madly grinding and pressing against my face. Then, a long, low, Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhha
aaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!! All as she jammed her pelvis against me and tightly clenched my hands. I stayed down there a while longer before coming up and holding her for a long time.

In a few minutes, we went into my bedroom...

The black lonelies

2009-02-20T11:51:00.000-08:00

Lady's got the blues. I had to work Valentine's Day, and the Lt. and I had planned to meet at my place that night. He didn't show. Didn't call. I guess I've done worse, but I prefer to be the first to walk away. God, I am fighting this feeling of being old and unattractive -- so immature. I called him once and left a message. I won't call again. It's a shame: not that he was "the one" but because we hadn't enjoyed each other up yet. Times like this get me thinking about all those roads not taken. I could have had children and a "happily married life." I didn't want that...not with a dangerous career for mommy, not with my family's fuckupedness genes, not with me the way I am. I'll be fine. Shit...

Fucking over lunch

2009-02-12T09:44:00.000-08:00

I've enjoyed a couple of splendid "nooners" lately, with the Lieutenant working close enough to my apartment to grab the Metro and meet me there to devour each other. Nooners are the perfect place for the urgent fuck -- where you just go for it, with the goal being to get off as fast and intensely as possible.

The well-done urgent fuck requires a skillful lover. Otherwise, it's just like back in college (for a woman, anyway) where the guys just want to hump and come in you and fall asleep or go off drinking with the guys. I did a few of those, and they leave you feeling empty and unsatisfied. Ah, but a good urgent fuck...

What's the difference? Anticipation for someone who you know will also love you well and all night long? Knowing how to get off myself, instead of hoping for my white knight while some 19-year-old fucks me for two minutes. That demon craving for cock, inside me, now. After college, I had several affairs where we would screw over the lunch break and it was grand. Urgent fucking can assume other venues, of course, such as the time my boyfriend fucked me on the hood of his car on a dark country road -- but that, dear readers, is another story.

The trouble is, I can't recall every detail -- that's part of the intensity. Piles of clothes. Good kissing and a sense that there's all the time in the world...even if you have an important 1:15 meeting. Mounting that nice hard penis, I'm already so wet!, and riding to my own greedy orgasm. Or letting him give me a good athletic fuck on top, my ankles up over his shoulders making me feel him so deep inside -- and he just goes nuts fucking me until he comes. Even if I have only a couple of baby orgasms, it's worth it. Afterwards, he holds me close and I play with the hair on his chest. A few minutes can go a long way.

Sometimes I am a little flushed at my next meeting or work assignment. But my co-workers just think I'm the blushing type...

Daydreams and all-night-fucking

2009-02-02T15:14:00.000-08:00

I am such a hopeless slut. The recent cock/pussy poll has me daydreaming...232 wonderful average circumsized penises. And 118 circumsized big boys -- ohmygod! Then 76 exotic uncircumsized average cocks to unwrap like a tasty snack. Thirty-seven uncut large ones...I am getting a little shaky. And innies and outies -- I've tasted both and loved them. An old male lover taught me how to tongue-fuck a woman. What a weekend we'd all have together.

Been with the Lieutenant a couple of nights. Younger men bring good and bad points, pun intended. He can go all night -- he needs almost no recharge time. He's wonderfully athletic. Lots of come, ladies. When he first came in me and pulled out, this long white string of semen attached us like a tether -- very erotic view between my legs. I can suck him off after he's come in me already and still get a mouthful -- more, once. It's very very pungent, thick, nasty stuff. Really brings out the bad girl in me, but challenges my gag reflex.

Each night he's fucked me five times, come in my mouth once or twice...and I am teaching him how to really be a cunnilinguist. I love love love all-night fucking, even if I'm now a little draggy in the daytime at work. It reminds me of college and my twenties. We'll snooze and then he'll be reaching over to tease my nipples and finger me. Or I'll wake him by sucking on his cock.

Young men have a lot to learn -- he's had five girlfriends before -- and we'll see how teachable he is. He's very sure of himself in sexual positions -- loves my ass, and loves to fuck me from behind. But I can teach him a few new ones, and he's happy about it. He's one of those guys who wants to pull out the second after he's finished coming. I put a stop to that -- grabbing his ass and holding him close, and I am strong. He definitely needs to learn how to tongue-worship me. If he gets it, women will thank him for it later. He's like a little puppydog in enthusiasm -- that would hurt his feelings, because he's very into being serious and duty-honor-country. The overall verdict: I'm having fun.

Turn clockwise to release semen

2009-01-26T09:38:00.000-08:00

He entered me the old-fashioned way, me on the bed, legs spread; him on top, his penis dangling in the ambient light. I reached down and grasped his shaft, ran my hand around the nicely prominent head, then guided him inside me. That first sweet moment where cock head met vagina...hard to describe -- a little brief discomfort, a lot of pleasure, a filled-up, nerves-everywhere primal feeling. Then he slid in and started fucking me at a slow, steady rhythm.

I'll call him the Lieutenant. He's very toned and buff -- and for those of you average-endowment guys, he's average, which is still very nice. He was raised up on his forearms, so I could look down his washboard abs and see his cock disappearing in me and coming back out again. It's the most arousing sight, especially as I am feeling filled up and fucked while I get this visual feast. (Sorry, girls, no pic).

Did I mention that he's 23? Tall, dark-haired, muscular shoulders and chest, witty, came on to me several times and I decided to let it happen. My place was warm, no small deal in D.C. last week. He's very sure of himself. Very sure he's a stud. But he's still young and has been fucking sweet young things. Ah, my friend, there's much to learn, especially from a woman who just turned 39 and is neurotic about it, not wanting to turn into my mother...

It felt divine. The skin on skin and the warmth were almost as good as the pulses emanating from my pussy. Foreplay had been a mad make-out session, first on the elevator -- where I was so wet and aroused I could smell myself -- then on my sofa. He slid me out of my slacks and gave my pussy a few lollipop licks, then carried me into the warm bedroom.

So I let the Lt. fuck me for a few minutes like I was a college girl. There was much to enjoy...running my hands along the muscles of his back, grabbing his tight ass, resting my legs against him, my feet against the backs of his thighs, running my legs along the taut skin of his flanks. I was already making noise and having mini contractions, I was so ready for this. He buried himself in me and his pubic hair was fine and soft against my skin.

But there's something about Mister Studs that brings out the bad girl in me.

So I opened my legs, bent my knees and planted my feet on the mattress. I started to fuck him back, oscillating my pelvis as I met his strokes. It's hard to keep focus when you're about to come and all you want to do is lie there and get fucked. But...I fucked him back. He started moaning and gasping. My pelvis went clockwise, my kegel-trained pussy kissing and grabbing his sweet shaft. Most men aren't used to this -- even the ones who think they can fuck all night and control the action. Based on past experience, I gave him about 10 strokes...he made it to nine. Then he gave a loud groan and, "Oh, shiiit!"

We'll have to work on the romantic pillow/orgasm language, but he's only 23. He collapsed on top of me and I felt his semen slowly leak out as I gently rocked against him, bringing myself off for the first of several orgasms that night. "You're amazing," he panted. "I've never...never imagined..." The boy has some potential. At least he was grateful.

I only felt like an ice queen

2009-01-22T14:04:00.000-08:00

The inauguration was magical, even if I had to work and spent part of the day freezing my butt off. It was c-o-l-d. Don't worry -- when Renegade decided to get out and walk, Pennsylvania Avenue was much more secure than you might think. I got to go to a couple of the balls, dressed to the nines...alas, working. But then I was off duty, finally. The news is that I'm walking with that special sweet soreness today. More to come...

Crazy time

2009-01-15T13:29:00.000-08:00

This town is shut down for the inauguration and my team and I are working pretty much 24/7. I have to rely on my imagination and fingers during my downtime. Working in a macho, testosterone hothouse only makes me hornier. But I am thinking of you, dear readers. More soon. XXXXXO

Be careful what you wish for

2009-01-07T14:23:00.000-08:00

I ran into an old friend from my twenties. I'll call her Kerry to protect the innocent. As with many people, Kerry just sees me as Linda with the dull government job. We were pretty well-lubricated (with booze, ye dirty minds) when she opened up about the breakup of her marriage a few years back.

I first knew her when she was married to...let's call him Dave. They owned a nice gallery in Georgetown (Kerry is from money) and were a fun couple to hang out with. Kerry has perfectly straight blond hair, a killer figure and knows just how to dress to be sexy without being slutty. Dave was chiseled handsome, the perfect product of an Ivy. I was never particularly attracted to him. But Kerry tells me now that he really wanted to fuck me. He asked if she would invite me to join them in a threesome.

Kerry had never done anything like that before, and automatically said no. She also seems like a woman who would have absolutely no interest in another female -- her loss. Anyway, I feigned shock and sympathy -- all the while thinking about what an fun tryst it would have been. I knew them through a combination dry spell and flings with Bad Men. I could have used a little loving.

Still, Dave kept pestering her. But she countered with a threesome involving two men. Dave backed away from that, but confessed that he had a fantasy to see another man fuck his pretty blond wife. At this point, I am thinking this sounds like one of those delicious stories on the Kristen Archives, but I just sipped my martini and listened. Kerry let it drop, but obviously it was like dropping crumbs in front of birds for Dave. He kept bringing it up. Finally, she decided to call his bluff. And she warned him, he might not like it. "I would just have died to watch him make love to another woman."

I think by this time their marriage was starting to get shaky anyway -- why do people get married in their twenties when they don't even know who the hell they are yet? An older man had been putting the moves on Kerry for some time. So one night she took him to a bar and popped the question. And not being a damned fool, he said, oh, yes! I wish I could have gotten lots of gory details, but alas, she was mostly ladylike. She did aver that it was the best fucking of her young life, and they did "everything" -- including things that she had never done for Dave. After the man left, they had a huge fight, him accusing her of being a slut, etc. Guys can be so stupid when they underestimate how unbalanced sexual power is.

Sadly, she didn't sound hot reliving the story, so I kept it low-key. I did tell her I had been a couple of threesomes and would highly recommend it. She smiled and said she's think about it.

It's 2009!

2009-01-05T14:22:00.000-08:00

New Year's resolutions. Hmmmmm...
1. Seek out a committed relationship and make sure sex is always connected to love. Wow. That's not wholly up to me, so I don't really think I can sign on. And the love = sex stuff is bullshit, pardon my unladylike langauge. I guess I have "loved" every man I ever slept with, after my fashion. But in many cases, my pure sex lovers have gotten the best of me, and me of them. How could I settle for a loving relationship that didn't include lots of great, adventurous, passionate sex. And how could I keep from being bored?

2. Seek out a younger stud to help me deal with turning 39 and getting older. Young and strong and willing to learn. I can do this.

3. Seek out a sophisticated, cultured, brainy older man who is a skilled and giving lover. Ooooo...I can do this one, too.

4. Have another affair with a girl. I have really been wanting to scratch this itch.

5. Get into more sex talks with my women friends and share their adventures with you. Most of the time, they're turned on by the prospect...as long as I don't use their last names.

6. Play high-class call girl some night. God, I'd love to. But it would break about a million regs and I really want to keep my job.

7. No fishing off the Company pier. No way, no how.

8. Try to blog more for you, dear readers.

The very breast for the holiday

2008-12-26T13:56:00.000-08:00

I'm back in the states and missing Europe. Maybe if I'm a good girl they'll post me there someday. I stayed away from the family for Christmas, a good thing given all the drama around Justin. So I took the train up to New York and spent Christmas with my old friend and sometime lover, Jon. We could never make it as a couple, but there's a wonderful familiarity everytime we get back together.

The sexual high point for me wasn't anything spectacular, such as making love in a department store window (which my ex always promised we would do, but never happened). We were in his cozy Manhattan walkup with the lights off, just letting the ambient city illumination spill into the room. He was sitting on the love seat that passes for his sofa and I straddled him and started kissing him. He is a wonderful kisser, and knows just how to tease, then heat me up with progressively more passionate kisses. This went on for a long time, from light lip brushes to professional tongue wrestling. He always tastes fresh. Sometimes he fucks my mouth with his tongue and it reminds me of what it is like when I sit on his face and he tongue-fucks my pussy.

Gradually more clothes came off. I felt his warm hands against my back, rubbing my collar-bones -- which for some reason he makes incredibly sensual -- and caressing my breasts. By this time, my nipples were aching from being so erect, and he started to work on them. He is the man who taught me how to really have my nipples and breasts worshipped. Not being the bustiest girl in town, men often ignore my breasts -- I am definitely a magnet for legs-and-ass men. Jon loves my "perfect" pert breasts -- his words. So he worked wet circles around my nipples with his tongue, then gently sucked them. Every now and then he would nibble lightly. I felt as if there was a hgh-tension power line connecting my tits with my pussy and he was just ramping up the voltage. My panties were already sopping wet and I could feel his cock pressing against their fabric.

Then he really went at me. Cupping my breasts, he started sucking my nipples really hard. I thought I was going to pass out it felt so damned good. I told him so in words and moans. First one breast got the treatment, then the other while he stroked and pinched the opposite nipple with his fingers. I moaned and rocked against his cock, starting to have little nipplegasms. I kept trying to reach down and get him inside me, but he stopped me. "Not yet," he said. Then he would hold me strongly in place with his hands on my back while he licked and sucked on my nipples.

He finally let me pull the panties aside. He easily slipped in and I came almost immediately, nearly dislocating his neck from holding him so tightly. I came so hard I was crying and he held me for a long time. Later I got down on my knees and repaid the favor.

Losing it -- tell me everything

2008-12-17T11:35:00.000-08:00

Now it's your turn again to turn me on, dear readers. I'm more than interested by our two polls on losing virginity. You know my stories (here and here). Tell me your stories: sexy, stumbling, awful, loving...no lurking now. Give it up. The comments section is totally confidential -- not even I can see your email.

I am particularly intrigued by you men who said your cock was too big but you fucked her anyway. Why would you do that?

I was thankful, believe me

2008-12-02T17:15:00.001-08:00

The black jeans...I had worn them in place of a skirt to keep myself from trouble...now they were bunched on the floor along with my panties, bra and blouse. The marble of the bathroom vanity was cold against my hips, but I didn't really feel it as I helped him out of his well-tailored slacks, reached into his boxers and freed his hard cock...

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

It was a Thanksgiving party for American ex-pats in Paris, held in a spacious flat of a reporter whose name you know if you are well informed. These are not co-workers, but some old friends from college or grad school. To them, I'm just Linda with the dull government job. There were others I didn't know, including him. It was one of those sparkling, flirty parties. And he acquired me like a predator drone soon after he made his entrance with his wife. She was blond and lithe, with an ice-queen expression. He kept coming back, and finally we were on a sofa together and our legs were touching.

I was getting overheated by then. The attention was nice, and the forbidden fruit thing, and the fact that he was tall, broad-shouldered, with wavy dark hair just starting to get little sleet-streaks of gray. And I hadn't been laid in weeks, since I had left Seattle with a bang. It didn't hurt that he was witty and could talk about interesting things, art and history. And nothing was going to come of it. So I let my leg stay as he consciously rubbed against me. I vaguely smelled pussy arousal, and I suspect he did, too.

Or so I thought when I excused myself to go to the bathroom. But the subconscious slut in me was hoping...and five minutes later the door opens and he stepped inside. I didn't wait for him to give me more than a merry look in his faithless blue eyes. My hands cupped his face and brought it down to mine beginning a long kiss. Tongues danced and he took me full in his arms. I could already feel his cock hard against my belly. He slipped off my blouse and bra, sucking my nipples very hard. They tingled and ached and ran a high-tension power line directly to my clit. I thought I was going to come right then, as I staggered backward with nothing to hold me but his strong hands. I nearly ripped off my jeans and he slipped his hands on my waist, effortlessly lifting me onto the top of the vanity.

"I need a taste," he cooed, dropping down to kiss my pussy, then run his tongue gently up and down my labia.

I couldn't take any more. I frantically undid his belt and let his slacks drop. My hand wrapped around a fat cock, about seven inches long. Why am I such a large-cock magnet? Not complaining...certainly not at that moment. He opened my legs, swung each ankle over his shoulder and started working his cockhead into a pussy re-virginated by lack of fucking. I leaned back into the mirror and gasped as he pushed in. But I was very wet and it didn't take long until he was really in there. The momentary discomfort of being stretched open soon gave way to a very warm, full feeling.

We made our odd position work, hands holding arms as he fucked me, first slowly, working his cock at different angles, my legs splayed wide open. But I wasn't the only one who was mad with lust. He eased my ankles down so we could get close and he really started humping me as I ground my pelvis back at him. Little contractions started coming. He could feel them, he told me, my pussy kissing him, he said.

Suddenly I started coming. I buried my face in his shoulder to muffle my cries. After a few seconds he gasped and moaned and I felt him pulsing inside me. For a long moment, we just held each other tightly. His cock finally slid out of me, covered with milky semen and pussy juice.

He slipped away and I put myself together, returning to the party with a flushed face. The bathroom had a bidet, of course. But I preferred to put my panties and jeans back on. A few minutes later, I felt a big glob of semen fall out of me. My souvenir.

More self-pleasure tales

2008-11-19T13:01:00.000-08:00

It's a good thing I'll be going back to the states soon. Otherwise, I would be a very bad girl, very bad.

Another agent I've been working with is named Ben. He's broad-shouldered, immaculately dressed -- with his suit coat cut just right to conceal his service weapon. God, I'd like to get my hands on his other weapon for service... He looks about six-foot-three, just the right kissing height for my five-foot-eight horny body. He's a toucher, in the right ways, and he makes me laugh. He's got a wife named Jennifer. I've got it bad for him.

Today I couldn't stand it any longer. So I went into the ladies room, to the last stall. Waited until I was alone. Then, I sat and started playing with myself, a pleasure made easier by wearing garters and stockings. So I slid down my panties and my hand found that my pussy was already dripping wet, my lips sensitive and swollen.

I closed my eyes and imagined him kissing me and undressing me, laying me down on the bed and giving me the glory fuck of my young life. The head of his cock pushing into my tight pussy, then pushing in. His long frame on top, my legs over his shoulders as his cock sank in deep. I watch as his penis goes in and out, wet with our juices, then disappearing inside me again. My finger made circles around my clit while my other hand stroked the inside of my thighs, then probed my wet lovehole.

Fortunately these are comfy toilets, because I soon lost myself and leaned back, raising my long legs and jammed my shoes against the walls of the stall. In my mind, we could go all night, but I needed this quick, hard first fucking from him, I needed his semen inside him, the way I make a man mine. Oh, his cock was in so deep. He swiveled those slender hips as he pumped into me.

Suddenly I lost it, letting out this muffled moan-scream: "Ummmmmmmmmmfffffffffffoohhhhhhhhhhh!"

As I lay back, I heard a woman's voice: "Are you okay in there?"

"Uh-huh," I peeped, breathless, my hands drenched in pussy goo.

I waited until she had left before putting myself back together, and going back to work.

Linda Sue's blowjob tricks

2008-11-13T13:15:00.000-08:00

Yes, blowjobs. Men love 'em. Even the worst was pretty damned good, as one of my co-workers says. But from what I can tell, many women are mediocre at this love skill. Some don't like it, like my friend back in the states Jennifer. Others, who knows.

I started out as a clumsy late-teenage cocksucker. But I was always very into the bodies of the men I was sucking off: how they might start sighing or even shaking when I was really doing something right; how they might start thinking about what's on television if I wasn't. I've told you some of the "secrets" I learned. I start off licking his cock like a lollypop, making circles, too. Even before that, if we're in bed, I run my breasts and hard nipples across his belly and cock.

I want him interested, and really anticipating when I will take him into my mouth. Once I do that, I still return to the licking and teasing. I kiss his balls, run my fingers and tongue gently around them, take them ever-so-easy in my mouth. He's really gasping when I start really sucking and moving up and down. I use my hand, or hands, to jerk off his shaft while I suck, or twist my hands both ways -- this causes them to like this way too much. Sometimes I do my "feather blowjob," the lightest sucking up and down, drawing it out and out until he comes. Sometimes I sit him down so he can see me suck him in a mirror, watching my shapely ass move seductively as I worship his penis. If he's average to smaller, I take him all the way to my throat.

One of the most important things I learned was how to, and this is an unromantic way to put it, manage his orgasm. When I was younger, I'd just suck like a madwoman, even though this caused many men to moan not just in ecstasy but discomfort. Once they started to come their cocks became so sensitive that my sucking was too much.

So I learned to back off once it's clear he's going to come. I ease off on the pressure as he's spurting in my mouth, but keep it up enough to extend his pleasure. Same with my hand, letting up some but still milking that magical dick. It can do on and on amazingly long. I feel him tense and his muscles ripple, his balls get tight, especially if he's young. His semen spurts again and again as I greedily swallow. No man ever forgets a Linda Sue blowjob.

But when you've come, baby, no napping. I'm just getting started.

The secret life of men

2008-11-11T13:43:00.000-08:00

The poll to your right tells me that more men than will admit it have gotten it on with other men. As for women, it's hard to tell -- I suspect most readers here are male, so the poll may be weighted against girl-on-girl confessions. I've loved my few female experiences, but in the end...and everywhere else...I gotta have cock.

Apparently the same has been true for some of my male readers. Interesting, too, is how many of these liaisons were unplanned. There's a little guilt or regret shown, but mostly they liked it. Mikey liked it. (Mikey will eat anything).

My sense is there's a much deeper, primal taboo inside most men about homosexuality than there is with women. We're natural touchers, and more than once in my life a friendly hug with a female has evolved into caresses that were first comforting, then sexual, then kisses, perhaps tentative...let me try this out...and then...Linda likes it.

Men are different. Now, some are gay of course, and a few are bi, but I'm especially interested in the guys who are straight but either by happenstance or walking on the wild side ended up with a cock in their mouth. I know how wonderful every blowjob is for me. I remember my first vividly. How is it the first time for the average suburban straight guy who never thought he'd have a dick sliding between his lips? (For being so "hard," they're so wonderfully soft, aren't they?). And when that first rush of sperm comes out...I swallowed as fast as I could, surprised at the taste and smell and force of his ejaculation (he was 17, after all). Did you? And did you drive back home to wifey with a mouth full of sperm, or semen running out your anus, feeling flush with accomplishment and guilt?

I'm getting aroused just writing this.

I was dating a man who said he'd be open to a threesome with another guy. We got very hot talking about it, and he was obviously aroused when I said I wanted to see the two of them play together. Alas, he chickened out. Which is a shame, because I wanted to see his first time.

Home alone

2008-11-04T09:53:00.000-08:00

Yes, women masturbate -- at least all of the women you'd want to know. This has been much on my mind lately as I am forced by my work situation to avoid the real thing. Horny slut that I am, my going-away gang fuck just wasn't enough to keep me satisfied for long.

I've never been much of one for toys -- I especially don't care for plastic inside me, even though I have used a strap-on on an old boyfriend! -- but my hand can do wonders. When I was 13, I started feeling this magnetic desire to touch myself "down there," even though my mother had made it clear that "down there" was dirty and only made for peeing. But alone in my bed at night, I just couldn't resist. It felt so good. Late that year I was rubbing myself when I suddenly had my first orgasm. It wasn't like the glory comes I would experience later, but it was new and wow! It completely took me by surprise. A few minutes later, my mother tapped on the door and asked if I was alright. Oh, yes. Surely she knew, and worried her little daughter would end up pregnant at sixteen, before going straight to hell.

Well there was no way I was going to get pregnant and stuck in suburban Auburn, Washington. But as you all know, I stayed a virgin all through high school. Yet my masturbatory life flourished. I came to realize the effect I had on boys and men. And I went through the usual round of crushes, and simple appreciation for everything from boys' muscles and masculinity, to the nerdy brainy ones, to my history teacher. I always fantasized when I got myself off, always had specific boys in mind, although I never acted on it. Sometimes I would come home after a game, take off my panties and masturbate in my cheerleader outfit, recalling all the lustful looks my pretty legs had garnered that night.

I thought about this, later, the other night when my neighbors woke me fucking. They can get wonderfully loud -- her moaning and mumbling nonstop in French, still managing to get out a "fuck me!" here and there; he encouraging her until he lets loose with his own moans and yells. It was balmy enough in my room that I pulled off the sheet as I raised my legs, planting my feet on the softness of the mattress. Already highly aroused...but I wanted to take my time. I lightly stroked the inside of my thighs, starting close to the knee, then moving up and just flickering across my pubic mound. Then the other side. I could hear my breathing get deeper.

My outer lips were together and I gently parted them, only granting myself a couple of clit rubs. A finger ran around the uneven form of my labia, lingered at the bottom, stroked my perineum. By now I could feel my heartrate really pick up. On the other side of the wall, I could hear her percussive moans...he was on top, slamming into her, each moan timed to the stroke of his cock. I have seen them both...beautiful people. I imagined him atop me, holding himself up by his elbows as he fucked me. I could look down and see his penis disappear inside me, again and again, filling me up.

By now my other hand was working easy circles on my clit, which felt like it was on electric fire. Meanwhile, I finger-fucked myself, felt all the familiar folds of my pussy, enjoyed the juices that were now flowing all over my labia, down into my anus, onto the sheets. God, I needed a good fucking. I reached up and gently pinched my nippled. What would happen if I went next door, wearing nothing, and banged on the door? Would he dismount and open the door with his erection still hanging in front? And could I take the time to drop to my knees and take it into my mouth, tasting the bounty of their mingled fluids? No, I would have to be fucked right then, right now...on the floor, against the wall.

In real life, the headboard is banging against the wall. I know he is fucking her doggy-style, their typical final act. I tilted my pelvis and raised my legs as my hands did their work, the bottoms of my feet burning, recalling all the find male asses they had rested against as I got fucked.

I heard myself screaming...the rest of me was somewhere else. For a few moments, it was completely silent next door. By the time they resumed, I was seconds from dropping into the sleep that only sex brings.

Be patient, loves...

2008-11-03T15:52:00.001-08:00

Linda Sue is on the job and on the road. Amuse yourselves with the archives...
Back soon. Kiss...lick...

Oh...my!

2008-10-22T09:23:00.000-07:00

I just discovered Dirty Debbie's "CWB" section. Let's just say it's a must-see for horny women, especially if you're not getting any right now.

Ode to a little black dress

2008-10-20T13:49:00.000-07:00

My luckiest piece of clothing was my little black dress.
It clung in all the right places, my silhouette,
Flowed out to show off my legs.
Men always loved them, especially in this dress.
I was twenty-eight when I bought it.
I've owned others. But this was the
One.
I've had other lucky clothing. My khaki miniskirt
In college, my power suits with skirts just above
The knee, my muscle T-shirt, worn braless
On Saturday mornings to get a mocha at Uptown Espresso.
But I loved this little black dress above all.

When I was twenty-eight and powerful, such a powerful
Age for a woman, my body still taut and youthful
But my mind wiser.
This little black dress got me lovers
And got me into trouble.
It ended up on the floor at the foot of his bed.
It bunched up against a wall as he fucked me
Standing.

I was reminded of this the other night,
As I walked in the misty black air along the Seine.
I was alone, wearing garters and black stockings
Under a longer dress. But no fun for Linda.
I have duties, responsibilities, minders, a firearm.
Your national security. My sexual insecurity.
Still,
I wanted to feel sexy as I walked, then I heard her.

A cascade of moans and cries and oaths
In a French soprano voice. She never stopped.
I saw them under the ancient bridge. He had her,
Up against the wall. She in a little black dress,
His pants were down, his hip muscles tensed
As he fucked her with madness.
Impaled.
I had been there, mon cheri. Louder than you.
I could see her pale face, red hair,
black dress. Him, his skin was coal black,
Glistening as he took his fair maiden.

She looked at me and we exchanged souls
For a moment. She looked twenty-eight. I told
Her of the lifetime of fucking she had ahead.
Each one wonderfully different, each heartbreak
Worth it.
My black dress would get scuffed and sperm-stained
With all my adventures, with my running from
One lover at eight to another at midnight.
They didn't know they were sharing my
Pussy.
Ah, but my little black dress knew.

They just wanted my legs wrapped around them,
My red hair thrown back and my screams
Validating their manliness. And they did.
They wanted the cute redhead in
The little black dress.
I killed at parties. Made wives went crazy.
Their husbands in a trance, Linda's
Legs.
So many lovers came magnetized to that dress,
And a girl-woman, twenty-eight.
We all got what we were after, right?

I stood there on the storied riverbank,
Paused, a little tingle behind my knees,
As I watched him fuck her.
So much of life flowing by.

I try to resist that last leaving-town temptation

2008-10-15T10:59:00.000-07:00

I've loved your kinky stories -- they've given me some hot masturbation material as I have endured celibacy with work taking me from Paris to Berlin, Brussels and, well, I'd better not say.

So you want to know about Justin? Oh, yes, sleeping with my "hood" brother-in-law, after his years of hitting on me. It was one of the most irresponsible things I've ever done, so of course I couldn't eventually resist it. I can be completely straight and narrow on everything but sex.

I spent the days after my going-away party letting my little pussy readjust, and my mind wander back to fond memories. (Read about them here, here here and here). I am packing and thinking, it's good to be getting out of town. Good to be getting away from the inevitable tryst that will blow up my life -- and the playtime with Justin is a very good candidate. C-4 explosive.

So I am slowly saying goodbye to my Seattle condo (where so much good sex has happened), hoping Justin doesn't "drop by" and partly hoping he does. That is Bad Linda talking. As usual, Bad Linda prevails.

I'm already asleep when there's a banging as the door. Justin looms through the fisheye. All I have on is a T-shirt, but I open the door. He comes in with an angry stride -- he and Amber have had a fight. He's at his most macho, masculine, strangely attractive this way -- at least in small doses. So I let him grab me up and start kissing me, while rubbing my bush and pussy that are exposed by the raised T-Shirt. I feel his big cock expanding down the left leg of his jeans.

Back in the bedroom, he just wants to fuck me, but I lay him down and undress him as he complains about my sister. He's not complaining by the time I have him naked and start stroking his cock. It stands up straight and grandly in the ambient light, like some monument to the gods of fucking. But as I start to kiss and lick, I can smell pussy. Not mine.

"Did you fuck her tonight?"

"Mmmm-hmmmm."

So here it is -- my sister's pussy scent and dried pussy juice on my lover's penis. In the abstract, it's strange and compelling. In the flesh before me, it's primal. I am a bad, sick girl, my good-girl voice says. But I am fascinated and turned on. I imagine Amber: the brunette to my red hair, the sister with big boobs, but not my fine legs. Her scent is strong like mine, but somehow different, too. I inhale and run my nose and tongue around his crotch. I make him tell me how he fucks her and I slowly suck his cock. He is blue-collar and inarticulate, but I stop sucking if he stops talking. Amber is a pure missionary girl -- won't even ride him. If she comes, he can't tell. He always has to initiate sex. I stop and make him give me the primal stuff. How it feels. Does she wrap her legs or keep them wide? "She says I'm too big for her..." I go back to worshipping this cock. Soon I let him just enjoy it and am madly sucking and jerking the shaft when he comes. He shoots strongly into the back of my mouth. No wonder they have four kids -- after fucking her, he still has enough semen left to nearly choke me.

We spent the next hour fucking -- he has a wonderful recovery time. And it is surprisingly tender. I let him fuck me in all sorts of positions -- my pussy is very ready to be fucked again. I let him fuck me in the ass, finally. He can get about half the way in. I have a strong orgasm myself. And then I steer him toward the door. He can't stay here tonight. He needs to get back to being a husband. And I am leaving myself. And this big, tall, macho guy cries as I hold him. Then he's gone and the locking of the door sounds unusually loud in the cool night.

Ball gags? Public sex? Got the wife to take it in the ass?

2008-10-04T11:30:00.000-07:00

Some of the sexiest and best-read posts come when readers share your experiences. The answers to the poll already have me wet. So give it up. Tell your story in the comments section of this post. Your email address is secure -- even I can't see it. You don't have to be a "good writer." Just get us all hard or damp with your own...very personal...confessions. Lurkers: That means you, too.

That secret college lover that the good girl never discussed

2008-09-30T16:48:00.000-07:00

I've left up the poll on college sex experiences to savor. What a delicious variety! You already know about many of my coed dalliances.

One of my coleagues is named Susan. She's a little older, but is still gorgeous, with cute-short blond hair, Ivory soap girl skin and, from what I can tell, a killer body, with very firm, perfect breasts. Gradually, she's opened up and we've traded stories. I put in the category about only having sex with your steady -- except for that secret one-night-stand -- because of her inspiration. It took some doing, time and bottles of wine, but here's Susan's college story, as told to Linda Sue.

I grew up in a very straight-laced family in the South. Dad was a church elder. You get the idea. I was a good girl. I was going steady with a guy who was a year older; we met in high school. But it wasn't until I was nineteen and a freshman in college that we went all the way and I lost my virginity. Rob was a very nice young man, but...a little boring. We were both going to the same nearby state university, and it was just assumed we would soon marry after graduation. But, in my way, I already knew I wanted out of there. Southern girls don't rebel -- at least in my experience. So I guess I acted out.

There was Steve. I'd had a crush on him in high school: he was tall, broad shouldered, with dark wavy hair. He made me wet and flushed feeling -- it was so embarrassing. But he was one of the school "hoods" -- rode a motorcycle, not going to college, close to the drug dealers if not one of them, and working class. We were very much middle class, with dad being a prosperous businessman. To date Steve would have been impossible.

But after having lost it with Rob, a few months later I ran into Steve in a store. He asked me out and I accepted. I just did it. I couldn't believe I had done such a thing. My pussy almost gushed into my panties as I said yes. I was going steady with Rob, of course. But there I was. So Steve takes me to a movie and after drives me back to the dorm. We get into a heavy makeout session in his car. I step out and walk back to the dorm in a comatose horny state. I can't think of anything else. I had reached down and felt his hard cock being restrained by the fabric of his pants. My nipples ached they were so hard.

Later that night he calls and we talk awhile, and he tells me to come over to his apartment. Again, totally out of character, I did it. We were all over each other before he even closed the door. He was a great kisser and very strong. He guided me into the bedroom and had my clothes off in a flash. I protested a little, but he was going to have his way with me. And I was turned on by this. Intellectually, it made no sense. But it was a huge attraction, this man I had wanted just taking me. He also kept calling me "Susie." I was always "Susan," nothing else, a quick little bitch to correct people. But when Steve called me "Susie," it just fed my lust. He dropped his pants and kicked them off. His cock was larger than Rob's and it wobbled enticingly as he moved.

I started to caress it and try out my very rudimentary skills in fellatio, but he pushed me down on the bed and was on top of me in a flash. I reached down and guided his cock inside me. I was very tight, but also very wet and he skillfully took his time pushing inside until he was in to the hilt. I was already gasping and moaning and bucking against him. This little voice inside me was saying, "Wow, I have the second cock of my life inside me now -- two in one year, and I was supposed to be faithful and settle down with Rob...even my parents would have been shocked to know Rob and I had done it. That voice didn't last. Steve just overwhelmed me with his physicality. He was very athletic, a much better lover than I had experienced. He was also kind of rough and dominant. Again, this was a turn on. Pretty soon he had my legs up over his shoulders -- an incredible new feeling. He fucked me a long time, and I had my first vaginal orgasm. Then he let out a loud cry and I could feel his big cock pumping semen into my recently virginal pussy.

We made love three more times until it was time for me to go to class. I was fucked doggy for the first time. Even with a shower, his come was running out of me all the next day. I had a date with Rob that night. Although I'm sure I acted strangely, we ended up screwing, too. It was quite a letdown. In two days, two different men. Not exactly church conversation.

Steve was my secret lover for the next three months. I argued with myself about it being wrong, about the need to confess. I never did. More time than I can remember, I went from one man to the other's place with semen in my pussy. Steve would fuck me roughly, in all sorts of positions, giving me these blowout orgasms; Rob would make love to me sweetly and innocently. Steve really knew how to drive me crazy sucking my tits, and he taught me how to give killer blowjobs. I still remember how big and impressive his balls were. I learned how to tease him, then really bring him off in my mouth. Or just give a quick but satisfying blowjob out in the car. Rob benefited from my learning. Steve always gave me this thrilling sense of being an outlaw...ironic considering my eventual career.

Steve knew I was still going with Rob, but didn't really care. I was a college girl, and he knew it had no future. But what fun we had, and made even more so by its illicit nature. The two worlds of Rob and Steve were so separate, I never really worried about getting caught. I broke it off and we had one more great fuck. After graduation, Rob and I married, as expected. But I knew it was a mistake even as I walked down the aisle. We divorced six years later and I left the South for good.

For years, I kept Steve as my little secret. The outward me certainly stayed pretty straight-laced -- only five lovers in forty years. But I'll never forget my "hood."

My going-away party, Part IV

2008-09-27T11:26:00.000-07:00

By this time I am starting to lose my bearings, all I have is a riot of sensations -- my clit aches for need of an orgasm, my pussy has that high-voltage quiver of being repeatedly fucked, my face is covered with another woman's pussy juice -- mingled with a man's semen -- my legs are noodly and shaky, come running out of me is tickling my anus, and the room reeks of sex. Nobody speaks. After the woman's orgasm, the only voice is mine, moaning, begging to come.

Hands untie me, while other hands gently caress my belly and thighs. Mouths suck on my nipples, getting me worked up all over again -- one of the mouths is topped by a scratchy mustache. The other mouth must be the woman -- her hair falls on me -- and she sucks hard. I groan loudly, whisper, "that feels so good." They turn me over and rearrange me. It's all very gentle and silent, and now I am on my knees, my ass high in the air, my arms resting on a pillow.

I expect another dick in me from behind. Instead, the bed leans in a little and a body is in front of me. Now I have hands free to explore. It's a man's body, with hairy legs and a flat belly and a fat, short cock. I let my hands roam and feel it encased in soft foreskin. I just barely brush my hands across it. Time for somebody else to get played. I kiss, lick and bite the tops of his thighs, run my tongue in circles around his belly button. With one hand, I reach up and pinch his nipples. I hear him start to breathe heavily.

I approach his cock slowly. First, I cup his balls in my hands and lick them. Some men want it rough with their balls sucked. But you never know. It can be painful for most guys, so I take it easy. They are tight and close to his dick, with soft skin and little hair. He's clearly enjoying this way too much. So I start lightly licking his cock. It's almost like an artillery round in shape -- of it feels that way: I am still blindfolded. But the skin is so soft. I flick my tongue up and down and in circles. He lets out a baritone moan.

Now I pull down the foreskin and inhale the man smell. I jerk him off gently while kissing his belly. My ass is still invitingly in the air, and this is brought home to me when suddenly the other side of the mattress is depressed and I feel a man positioning himself behind me. I try to lick and please my uncut man, running my tongue around his exposed head, but my pussy is having pre-quake jitters in anticipation of what's to come.

Any woman who tells you every cock feels the same (except for the really big boys) isn't paying attention. Each is delightfully different. And now I feel that distinct, sweet pain of the big head of Chris's cock pushing into my vagina. Even though I've already been opened up by a monster and am gushing pussy juice and come, his head still gets my attention. Selfish bitch that I am, I ram myself against him, letting it fill me up, and let out a pre-orgasm scream.

But he's having none of it. His strong hands firmly grip my hips and he won't really fuck me. God! He stays inside, then slowly withdraws, then oh-so-slowly slides back in. All the while, he keeps control. I am breathless. But I keep working on the fat little cock before me. It slides into my mouth and I gently suck while cupping and caressing his balls. Next I move my head up and down a few times, just to get things started. This is going to be fun...

Then a big rope of semen explodes into the back of my throat and the man screams a profanity and grabs my head. I am swallowing as fast as I can as two, three, four big ejaculations fly into my mouth. It tastes like very salty, pungent pea soup. Haven't swallowed so much in awhile -- he must be young. I ease up the pressure and manage his orgasm, so it feels good, not to painfully intense, and he's soon just moaning and stroking my hair. His cock collapses and I lick up the rest of his come from his pubic hair. The taste of come stays in my mouth, keeps my throat sticky, and I can feel the thick semen on its way into my stomach.

Now Chris really starts to fuck me. Piston, whatever fucking analogy you want this is it. He does the move where he angles his hips as he fucks, letting his cock touch different areas inside me. Incredible feeling. It doesn't take long before I am seeing colors at the edges of my eyes and my feet are burning. My pussy gives some powerful contractions and then the first orgasm just annihilates me. He just keeps fucking. I have buried my head in the belly of my uncut friend and I am screaming and moaning, whimpering unintelligible fuck talk. Yes, I claw the sheets... A finger slips into my anus, finger-fucking me with KY while Chris's dick is fucking my pussy. He's done this before, in preparation to taking my ass. This time, though, he's so aroused that all he can do is suddenly pull out of my pussy and slide into my anus before he comes. I am filled up with cock and semen and he collapses on me. We're all in a heap, gasping and moaning.

Everybody had another turn, at least. I can't tell you how many times I was fucked or in how many positions. I rode the heavy-set man and came again. Chris gave me a sweet missionary fuck, my legs wrapped around his waist and hips. The woman and I sixty-nined, and I just got to the plateau and couldn't get off, but she came again. Then, above my face, I felt a cock slide into her and I licked it and her as she was fucked. Later, I sucked the semen out of her. The first guy, the skinny one with the impossibly large cock, gave me a hell of a shafting from behind -- really rough this time, hard to adjust my pelvis to take all of him -- but I had another shattering orgasm. The only rule was that I couldn't take off the blindfold.

It seemed as if we had taken a pause. I was lying there, as well-fucked as a woman could be. After awhile, my nose itched and I thought, what the hell. I took off the blindfold. The room was empty. Nobody but me and the semen-stained sheets.

A single red rose was on the pillow next to me. I could barely walk the next day.

A small break...appreciating those comments

2008-09-09T10:27:00.000-07:00

People continue to add their comments to my "Sex with a relative" post from long ago. The latest, by Angela, is one of the sexiest comments I've ever read. W-O-W! So enjoy. And I'd love to have more honest, explicit commenters on all posts...(Thank you BadGirlJennifer).

My going-away party, Part III

2008-09-02T12:57:00.000-07:00

I have just been fucked by two strangers. I can't see them, but I know how they feel on top of me, the texture of their skin, the scent of their breath, the size and shape of their cocks, the way they fuck and the way they sound when they come, the volume of sperm they pump into me (a lot).

"How much edge can you handle, you little slut?" Chris had asked the question with a fond look but an edge in his voice. I knew he had been angry with me for screwing around on him -- just as I had been pissed at his continued dalliance with Heather. So now I was leaving, and he wanted to throw me a "party." Would I go along? No details. "I don't want to be hurt, and if you bring friends, make them wear condoms," I said. He nodded. Liar.

Now I lie on the soft, expensive sheets that smell of sex. My hands are still tied to the headboard with soft but unyielding restraints. My little pussy aches from being fucked and from being taken to the edge without letting me come. I know it's all part of his plan. If a woman could have blue balls, I am she. No one says a word.

The mattress is again depressed and a body lies beside me. Skin on skin, this is unmistakably female. She gives me urgent French kisses, her tongue exploring my mouth, then lingering, teasing lip brushes. Her hair falls down on my cheeks and neck. It feels lush and curly. She's a good kisser. After a few minutes of this, she leans over me and one heavy breast caresses my face, then the other does. Her nipples are erect and thick, and I lick and suck them hungrily. But soon she takes them away. Now I feel a leg coming across me and I smell pussy as she moves to sit on my face and get adjusted. Her pubic hair is soft and sparse.

Her pussy is very wet. The juices cover my lips and nose as I start licking and tonguing her. She's has a very pungent pussy odor, and I start to get aroused all over again. Someone has recently fucked her, because as I drill my tongue into her vaginal canal I taste man -- I get thick globs of semen mixed up with her pussy juices and swallow them. The semen has a sharp, nasty smell. She rocks back and forth, moaning softly as I work on her. After a thorough tongue-fucking, I worship her labia, only occasionally darting up to her clit. She has small, bud-like pussy lips. Then, as I really focus on her clit, she starts grinding against me. This goes on a long time. With my hands tied, I can't guide her or raise her pelvis.

Thank God she's relatively light or I would suffocate. By now she's really grinding against my face and I am bearing down with my tongue on her clit. Her pussy is making lubrication overtime now and it covers my face even as I try to lick it up and swallow it. Her cunty smell becomes even more pronounced, and I can feel her shake in little pre-orgasm contractions.

"AhhhhhhhhhhhOhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhGod
Godaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" she lets out this long, low moan, shaking and pushing against my face. I involuntarily wrestle at my restraints. I want to hold her close. But I can't. After sitting and rocking for awhile, she dismounts with a little yelp, and I am alone again on the bed.

My going-away party, Part II

2008-08-25T13:02:00.000-07:00

I keep getting to the brink of coming and he hits my cervix...my sounds a mix of aroused woman and pain...it all mixes together with a strange, new sensation. He grunts and shakes and I feel his come shooting inside me.

I don't know his name...

He immediately pulls out. I hate it when men do this...it's even worse when it's a well-hung stud...my pussy is suddenly left empty and achie. I am still quivering, right on the brink of coming. I want to put my legs together and clench them together to bring myself off. I wish my hands weren't tied. God, I want to come so bad. But suddenly another man is on top of me.

He's big and his belly is on mine as his dick slides inside. He feels average, and that's fine. It takes my poor big-cock-fucked pussy a minute to adjust to him but by that time he's already fucking me. He's down on me, rubbing my nipples and breathing against my neck. He smells like cigarettes but makes no attempt to kiss me.

I feel his weight on me, holding me down. His pelvis, though, is a lithe and supple thing, ramming in and out, up and down, oscillating. What a feeling! I raise my legs against him and my feet start to heat up again. Now my pussy walls are tight against him and I grind against his pelvis, fucking his back. His breath comes very sharp and fast. He's one of those men who doesn't make noise, but I make him moan. He gasps: "God...you're...tight...hot..." I wonder if he's going to come or have a heart attack on top of me!

Then he pulls both my legs wide and holds them in the insides of his elbows as he slides back inside. I am spread wide open, feeling very vulnerable, feeling the air in the room brush against my hips and anus as I am lifted higher off the sheets. He fucks me with abandon as I gasp and moan. His heavy balls slap against my ass -- an unbelievably sexy sensation. I hear our sounds...the first man came in me and my juices mingle with his semen to make that distinctive squishy fast sound of being really fucked. My feet are burning and I am seeing colors at the edges of my eyes...

I am just about to explode when he lets out a "oh, fuck!" and I feel him spurting inside me. His cock seems to grow bigger as this happens. He must not have come for a month: I feel the semen cascade inside me, then dripping out, running down into my anus. He immediately pulls out and I moan with disappointment.

"Fuck me, fuck me...I want to come..." I am moaning. Only silence comes from around me. With the blindfold, I can see nothing. The room smells of strongly semen and pussy.

I wonder: How did I get into this?

My going-away party, Part I

2008-08-15T10:56:00.000-07:00

I am lying naked on a bed with soft, clean sheets. My hands are tied to the headboard. I am wearing a blindfold. Something about the blindfold actually heightens senses other than vision. Opening my eyes only yields blackness. So I close them and feel the mouths sucking my nipples hard, the hands roaming all over me. I am already very wet. My legs are free and I feel hands parting them, raising my knees.

An unfamiliar body. He's very slender and his breath vaguely smells of peppermint as he leans down kissing me, pushing his tongue into my mouth. He lacks any finesse, like a college-boy. And very slim -- I rub one leg up and down him. But I can feel his erection pressing against me, and he's hung. Ohmygod. I can feel him reaching down with one hand, playing with my pussy with the tip of his cock, my juices coating it. Then he starts to push inside.

It hurts and I cry out. "Go slow, babe." He waits for me to adjust my pelvis to take more of him. I feel his head push inside me, and behind it a very thick shaft...I imagine this as one of those cocks that gets bigger beyond the head. Gasp, I gasp, and his breathing is coming hard on my shoulder. Then his head and torso push away; he must be raising himself up on his arms. He uses this purchase to push his cock all the way in. I let out a half-moan, half-scream. I am filled up, the walls of my pussy almost painfully stretched.

I wrap my legs around him. He's so skinny I can go way beyond crossing my ankles. And yet he's got this giant dick, which he proceeds to use on me full throttle. He's fucking me with a hard rhythm, very fast, his ass and pelvis rotating up and down maniacally. Then he slows down and I rest my feet on the backs of his thighs. He pulls way out, then slams inside me, provoking another moan/scream. I open my legs wide and push up my pelvis to await the next move, and he slams in again. Then he pulls almost out, leaving me quivering, unfilled, the walls of my pussy wet and waiting. It's excruciating...waiting, wanting the rhythm of fucking. But he plays me with more skill than I first expected. Again and again, he slow-fucks me.

Then I feel my legs being lifted and I am nearly upended as my feet and ankles go over his muscular shoulders. Now he's going even deeper, hitting my cervis...not comfortable...yet the thickness of him keeps me moaning and groaning. My hands strain at the headboard, wanting to feel his face and chest, grab his gymnastic little ass. But I am helpless to do so, which of course adds to the arousal. I keep getting to the brink of coming and he hits my cervix...my sounds a mix of aroused woman and pain...it all mixes together with a strange, new sensation. He grunts and shakes and I feel his come shooting inside me.

I don't know his name...

Listening to the sounds though the walls

2008-08-08T10:48:00.000-07:00

I'm on temporary liaison to a European agency that does what my bunch does -- fuzzy enough? I think so. It's nice duty -- the usual posting is three to five years, but I am not so lucky. In any event, I am in a very nice flat in a very nice arrondissement, one the tourists never get to. Thank you, dear taxpayers.

I don't know my neighbor, but I hear him, almost every night.

One girlfriend -- I call her Carla, after the French first lady -- is a screamer like me. She is not only very loud when she comes, but does lots of moaning and coaxing in French, such a wonderful language to make love in. He is loud, too. Another one is an American girl, younger; I have named her Marcia. She is a bit more reticent. I can't hear her until she lets out a sudden moan or passionate cry. Then she has one long, intense orgasm and I hear her alto "oohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..." I bet he's gone down on her. There is another Frenchwoman -- Danielle in my fantasies -- who starts this amazing yodel of moaning and noisemaking. I imagine her riding him as she does this. Sometimes I hear the headboard hitting the wall and now he is fucking one of these women doggy.

I have only seen "Marcia" coming and going, and Monsieur is ruggedly handsome, like a mountaineer, and older -- he reminds me of a man I had a fling with during my undergraduate semester in Paris. He introduced himself to me once, as Luc, and his smile told me he knew I was listening to the nighttime sounds.

Alas, it is all I can do. Must be ever so careful in this position. I can't get into the other positions I would want. So I will have to content myself with the sounds through the wall, and my wistful fingers. I have always loved hearing my neighbors fuck -- it's like hearing life.

Open thread: The things we've done under the influence

2008-08-01T13:38:00.001-07:00

What I've done while tipsy. Well, I got into a submissive fling with a much younger man (read about it here, here, and here). I had my first sexual experience with a girl. I fucked my bother-in-law. Drunken little slut.

As Dorothy Parker said, "I love a dry martini, two at the most. Three, I'm under the table. Four, I'm under the host."

When I was 20 and still fairly inexperienced, I had a doozy boozy experience. For years, I had noticed how my dad's buddies had their eyes on me. For a long time, I thought it was because I was ugly or funny looking. Hey, I was naive. Anyway, by 20 I was savvy enough to know what it meant. Once I accompanied my father to a dinner/springtime party for the large company where he worked. I wore a little black dress and was already looking for trouble.

As soon as we got there, I ran into my dad's golfing buddy Chuck. He had long "appreciated" me. Buff and tan, he was a surgeon and private pilot, very cocky, very married. He steered me over to the bar and bought me my first martini. Back then, like any college kid, I liked beer or sweet drinks. But I wanted to appear sophisticated. We stood against the wall and talked. Soon Mrs. Chuck -- Diane -- drifted over and joined the conversation, staring daggers at me. She was a pretty blonde -- but an young attractive woman is a destabilizing threat to any wife with half a brain. We talked, time passed and all of us went to circulate elsewhere.

Half an hour later, Chuck found me on the terrace of the country club, bored out of my skull by these old fogies. He brought another martini, and I drank it. He was very attractive, and I felt the innate competitiveness now with Diane, and I drank way too fast as he asked me about college and whatever... Pretty soon, I excused myself to go to the restroom. When I came out, there was the buff surgeon, standing in the hall. He took me by the arm and led me into an unoccupied ballroom.

We came together like matter in some physics experiment -- and, wow, being kissed by an older, experienced man was so much better than making out with some college guy. He just ravished me with kisses on my mouth, neck... I was ravenously horny as he put me on a table, hiked up my legs and pulled down my panties. He went down on me and I thought I would come right then -- but he was good; he just kept me hovering on the edge of orgasm. I kept ineffectually reaching for his pants, and soon he complied. Dropping them and his boxers, as he slid his cock inside my dripping pussy. I gasped from the moment he entered, and he fucked me with sure, rhythmic strokes. It didn't take long before I exploded, screaming...I couldn't help it.

He was still standing, fucking me on the table. "God, you're so tight," he gasped. He fucked me expertly, through a couple more orgasms, but I could tell he was about to come, too. "Are you on the pill?" he breathed. "Unh-huh," I managed to get out, and he came inside me, shuddering, moaning...hell, he was going to come inside me whether I was on the pill or not, he was so far gone. I felt his come shoot in me, and he held me close for a long time, stroking my hair, telling me how beautiful I was.

We put ourselves back together -- having left a massive come stain on the table cloth. About fifteen minutes later, I was back with dad, but still watching Chuck across the room. He was talking to this or that bigwig, smiling like a man who had just fucked the sweet young thing he had lusted after for years. Then Diane came up, smiled sweetly and pulled on his tie, as if to pull him down to kiss him. A second after their faces met, she slapped him so hard I could hear it across the noisy room. She had smelled my sweet pussy odor on Chuck's face.

By that point, I was drinking Diet Coke.

Postcard from the road XXXXO (fuck me now)

2008-07-30T11:00:00.000-07:00

I'm not breaking any rules to tell you that I've been in Europe for several weeks. I've done a lot of train riding -- and I love trains. So civilized, so much less stressful than airplanes and airports, and so open to sexual adventures. More on that later. I must also tell you about my two ... goodbye parties as I left Seattle. And note that we have been given the quality seal by Jane's Guide.

For now, I am fascinated by the poll this week. For the record: I am satisfied and highly sexed. It's not surprising that lots of men want more sex, especially more frequency. Sad to say, men stay horny forever, while many women fade in their desire, especially as they reach menopause. That won't be me, babes.

Meanwhile, I know we have a significant cohort of female readers, so I am surprised that there are fewer votes for better quality sex. Back in the day, when I was in college with horny guys why just wanted to hop on and get off, quality was something I knew I wanted, but didn't know what it would be. Now I demand it. Then someone who reads this blog votes that sex isn't all that important to him or her. Hey, I'm grateful you're reading.

As for you poor babies in dry spells. Get out there. Personals are a great start. Just be honest about your bottom line.

Must run for now...gad, my French is rusty, if not my French kissing.

Advice for better cunnilingus

2008-07-27T11:59:00.000-07:00

I received an email from a man who said he loved going down on women, he could do it "for three or four hours," and he wondered why some women didn't like cunnilingus.

My advice was, first, most women don't want you down there for three or four hours. We couldn't handle it. But I give an A for effort. A man who loves cunnilingus is on his way to being a good lover. But...he's got to take his time. For example, don't underestimate the value of foreplay and kissing (there are hundreds of different ways to kiss and caress alone). Be willing to heat her up once you go down there, too. Different tongue strokes...tongue fucking. Become very plugged in to what she's feeling and go with it.

Below is an old post I did on this subject on The Fellatrices. One more thing: some women are fucked up about cunnilingus -- it's "nasty to put your mouth down there" or they are afraid to lose control. With the right foreplay and communications, you might be able to break through this barrier (and she will always love you for it). Otherwise, beware. You will have a sex life that is highly constrained and slowly dies.

Otherwise, here's advice for the Fluent Cunnilinguist:

You gentlemen want blowjobs. But it’s better to give than to receive. And if you want to receive, you’d better be good at giving.

I can’t speak for any woman but myself, but I love to have my pussy licked. Show me a good cunnilinguist, and I’ll show you a man whose dick I will happily, greedily worship with my mouth.I can’t speak for any woman but myself, but I love to have my pussy licked. Show me a good cunnilinguist, and I’ll show you a man whose dick I will happily, greedily worship with my mouth.

Here’s what I don’t want: A man who hurriedly licks my vagina, like it’s an ice cream cone, for a few seconds before he fucks me. I had a couple of those in college and even then I knew I was being dissed. Later, I wasn’t shy about demanding more, and if I didn’t get it, then the Detonate Relationship light was flashing red.

A good cunnilinguist loves women and their vaginas. It’s that simple. It’s that rare.

If you want to make love to me, be willing to take your time with my pussy. Can you kiss me, I mean really kiss me? Light brushes on my lips, deep, passionate tongue kisses. Then kiss and nibble my ears…I’m already getting wet.

Take your time. Take off my clothes the way you lusted after me in them, maybe with urgency, maybe teasingly, brushing the fabric across my nipples. Linger over my panties. Can you kiss me all over, suck my nipples and caress my breasts, lick and suck my toes, kiss and nibble on the inside of my thighs? You’ll have me moaning by then, and a lesser man might climb on and slide inside. But not you, my love.

No, you will lightly pass your face across my pussy, taking in my scent. You say you love that. As I lie there, spread open and vulnerable, you say I’m beautiful. I feel your tongue ever so lightly across my clit, just a taste, just a sample. Then I feel you exploring my labia with your tongue, all around, for a long time. You gently open my lips. You raise my legs and put my feet on your shoulders, the better to tongue-fuck me, going as deep as you can. I feel your tongue catching my juices as they flow to my perineum. You know how sensitive I am there, so you linger. One hand reaches up and gently teases my nipples. You stroke my thighs.

All this takes time. You are in no hurry, my love.

Only later do you start to work on my clit, first with very faint circles with the tip of your tongue. Then you go away again, sliding that tongue inside me, mapping all the folds of my pussy, before returning, again and again, each time changing the rhythm. Urgency takes me higher, but then you back off. I may even try to grind against you, but you are in no hurry. You may make me wait a bit more. God, I want to come! Wait, wait, not too fast, make it last! You are connected to me, sensing all this.

I shudder, holding your head, stroking your hair. My feet start to burn. I need to hold your hands now, need you to be with me, and you instinctively know this. We hold hands as you make circles with the flat edge of your tongue, now with more pressure. You use the same edge to move up and down my slit, now always returning to the clit. I have lost time now, the edges of my eyes flash with colors. You are doing things I can’t see, things I don’t have time to process, because you have made me lose myself. You took me up and slowed, up and slowed, but now it’s too late. I can’t suppress my screams, even if the neighbors hear…

You know when I am wrung out and you gently kiss my pussy, lick my thighs. You come up and hold me tight. You know I will get to you, Love, and it will be so good on the way to getting that full load shot down my throat.

"I'm commmmmiiiinnnnng!!!"

2008-07-18T13:49:00.001-07:00

I have hardly said those words because when I enjoy la petit mort everybody knows it -- my lover, the neighbors, passersby on the street. I've been a screamer ever since I really learned how to let myself go and come. It means my lover and I have a difficult time staying in bed-and-breakfasts. Otherwise, I love it. I come easily. With a skillful lover, I can also come several times.

Everybody's different. My friend Deb says she's very slow to heat up and needs a patient and skilled lover. She always thought she was a moaner until she had a two-year affair with a married man, a very very expert lover -- with him, she was a screamer. She surprised herself. Mary Beth tells me when she really gets going she's kind of a scremoaner...constantly giving cries and moans as she climbs the mountain o arousal and jumps off. Pam was a screamer. Megan couldn't come -- but I just think she was afraid to lose control. I'd bet my poor sister Amber has never come.

What about you? Tell me everything. Men, tell your experiences, too.

As I travel...open thread

2008-07-11T10:56:00.000-07:00

locked and loaded, dear readers, note I am keeping the polls up, and will try to keep them interesting. Feel free to share your experiences and opinions here. The hotter the better.

Anatomy of a pickup rim job

2008-06-17T09:22:00.000-07:00

I was catching up with sexy Cheryl, and sure enough, she had a new adventure she was willing to share:

"Monday night I was out with guy. Dinner. Cocktails. Chat. Two Margaritas and I was happy. Guy is decent. Cute. First date thingy, "although we went to a baseball game once as friends.

"Anywho, I ordered a glass of Port after dinner to sustain my buzz. He looks at me and says 'what would you like to do now?' I hate that fucking question. Especially with that leer some guys have. This guy had it. He didn't want anything more from me but a nice fuck. Screw him.

"So, I looked at him and said, 'The only thing I want to do is to have my ass licked. I want my ass worshipped. I want to have you lick my feet all the way up to my asshole and then ream me until I tell you to stop. Then, when I am satisfied, you will go home and I will take a bath and masturbate. How does that sound to you?'

"I thought he was going to faint. I was hoping it was from shock and disgust rather than shock and wanting to take me up on it. He looks at me and says, 'hmmm, well, umm...that might be nice, but it will have to be some other time.' 'Oh, OK,' I said.

"He dropped me at home. Now he has a great story to tell...

"Later, after sitting at home for an hour, I realized I really would like to have my ass worshipped a bit. I really didn't want to try to troll for someone so I took a bth and played with myself and my ass. No good. Not what I wanted. I got up and dried off. Got a vibe and tickled my ass. No good. I needed tongue.

"So I pulled up a skirt. Put on some heels. Nice tight tee, braless, with a cute jacket and went trolling. I knew where to go. I walked in to my fave place, I saw Jeff. I was pretty sure he'd be there on a Monday. His wife has a book club. 'Jeff, listen, I need a little something.'

" 'Want me to guess or are you going to tell me in sordid detail?' he said. 'Guess,' I replied.

" 'Hmmm....take of your jacket. ahh...braless. What about panties?'

" 'None.'

" 'Hmmm...did you have a date?'

" 'Yep.'

" 'OK, I know what you like but I know you change it up a bit so I am going to guess you want to play glory hole. (Oh my goodness...great game).

" 'Not quite Jeff. Here's a hint: Mrs. Jeff doesn't let you near there.'

" 'Ahhh....yes ma'am. I do believe I am your man.' I giggled 'I know you are the man, that's why I'm here.' 'Where to, Cheryl?''My place as soon as you can get there.'

"He followed me. I opened the door. I walked a few feet in and Jeff followed. I stopped. The door closed. I could feel my skirt being lifted. Jeff is not a small guy. Very handsome. Rough hands. Big fingers. His hands were on my butt cheeks and he spread my ass. My skirt must have been over his head...a funny look in my minds eye.

"Anyway he spread my butt, wet a finger and teased my asshole. What a feeling. He stood up with his hand under my skirt and his finger dangerously close to penetrating my ass. He pushed me toward my couch and bent me over the arm. Then he really went to work with his tongue. It felt so incredible. He reached around to play with my clit, but I told him no. Jeff doesn't have to be told twice. He always does want I want. He must have rimmed me for 20 minutes. I had enough. I needed to cum so badly. I told him to lay on the floor. I squatted over his face and played with my pussy until I came. Then a scooted down and let him lick me. Absolute delight.

"I asked if I could do him any favors. 'Not tonight, babe. Susan will be home soon and after book club she always wants a tumble. This was a good work up for that.

"I know Susan, and she knows that Jeff does favors for me. She hates giving head and she is dead set against back door play so she let's me and Jeff dabble around to satisfy each of our base needs. She likes to watch me give him head on occasion and once she actually masturbated while I was doing Jeff -- that was a pretty good thrill.

"I am such a tramp. And, I rather like it."

I do, too!

Losing my (other) virginity

2008-06-09T10:27:00.000-07:00

When I was in my twenties, many men tried to fuck me in the ass. This usually happened in the heat of a passionate, headboard-banging doggie-style fucking. He might start fingering my anus, and then I would feel him pull out and put his cockhead right on the tip of my virgin asshole. I just couldn't do it. I would always say no, then slide forward so he couldn't do it.

Don't get me wrong, I loved it when a more prepared and sophisticated lover would whip out the KY or Astroglide and finger my anus while he licked me or fucked me. He might reach around and do it while I rode him. A couple were dexterous enough have one finger in my anus, another caressing my perineum and a cock inside me. The orgasms were always very intense. My perineum is very sensitive and I love it when a man touches me there. But, still, I was afraid of anal intercourse.

Maybe some of this was my repressed upbringing, but I had always been turned on by breaking those boundaries. I think one element was that I had taken some large cocks, starting with the drunken football player who fucked me at the frat house way back in college. Some of these monsters had made me feel like I was being split open, at first, but usually my pussy relaxed and accommodated them quite nicely, and I loved that filled up feeling. But I knew my anus was not built to expand that way. And I always wanted pleasure, not pain.

I finally crossed the threshold with my future (and later ex) husband. Like the best of my lovers, he was very playful, uninhibited, always horny, inventive and, at just the right times, gentle. He also had what seemed to me a perfect cock: about average length, but with a nicely thick shaft and a beautiful head. It's still the most beautiful cock I've ever seen. At work and at home, I could fantasize about that cock in my ass. We did a lot of buildup, with fingering and rimming. He was on fire from the moment I said, "I want you to fuck me in the ass."

He did his usual long, magical foreplay...lots of kissing, holding, caressing, leg licking...cunnilingus. I had already had one orgasm. I fucked him on top, and he fucked me missionary, then with my legs up under his arms. Finally, I was on my knees, my ass high in the air, my head down on the mattress. He told me how beautiful I looked as he slowly fucked my pussy from behind. He opened the KY and fingered my ass, then slipped in one finger. He finger fucked my anus as he cock-fucked my pussy. He told me what an amazing feeling it was to feel both going in and out. (And he had been very careful to trim his fingernails; hint to you gentlemen). Then he started fucking me with two fingers. It felt good.

Then I felt his cock on my anus and he gently slid it in. It had been well slathered with KY, too. Wow...I could feel it. A very different feeling from a cock in my pussy. I adjusted my pelvis and back, and it felt better. He was all the way in and started to very gently fuck me. I liked it. Liked the fullness, the sense of ultimate surrender. Then it just really started to hurt, and as turned on as I was, I moaned "hurting..." and he pulled out. As I say, he was a gentleman. A hood might have just taken me and fucked me anyway. Would I have liked that or not? Anyway, that was my first time.

About a week later he was fucking me hard from behind, fingering my ass with one KY'd finger -- though he often did this. He was moaning himself, I was screaming...and suddenly I felt his cock slide right into my anus as he came. I couldn't feel him shooting inside me the same way I can when a man comes in my pussy. But it felt very forbidden and nasty and I came again myself. As he often did, he stayed hard and just gently fucked my ass for a few minutes. It felt great. My anal virginity was gone, semen was in my anus and I could hear and feel it sloppily running out as he fucked me.

New horizons were ahead.

Thoughts about that ideal lover

2008-06-07T10:56:00.000-07:00

As the poll indicates, most people want a lover with experience...but not too much. I've been discussing this with some of my male and female colleagues.

There is that group that wants a virgin they can teach how to fuck. One male friend actually got that and it seemed to work out well for him. "She kept telling me, 'teach me how...'," he said. So she enthusiastically learned how to suck cock and swallow. She asked him to fuck her in the ass. A number of women friends talked about the older men who taught them the moves -- even if they weren't virgins, they were very inexperienced -- and they were eternally grateful. One man told me how he was initiated by a woman 10 years his senior. Of course the danger is that the virgin won't ultimately like sex. And, she just doesn't have the moves of someone who has had several lovers. This is what I don't get about the "stay a virgin until you're married" thing -- how do you know you will be sexually compatible. My sister and her husband fall into this camp.

The very experienced carry ghosts and baggage with them. I had girlfriends tell me that they loved the skill of their experienced lovers, but they couldn't bear to think about how the men had acquired it. That green-eyed monster of jealousy.

For the ones who get off with their long-time spouse and partner - you're lucky (if you're being honest). I like variety and edge and change. I was a cute young thing as a virgin, but I was probably a lousy lay. (Once a boyfriend told me he got off just by looking at me as he fucked me -- he meant it as a compliment). It was only with multiple lovers, different moves, men (and a couple of women, yay!) who would challenge me and push me out of my comfort zones, that I became who I am. But I don't think I have filled a phone book, not by a long-shot.

How did it get to be June already?

2008-06-03T10:09:00.000-07:00

Be patient, my friends. Keeping you safe from evildoers takes more of my time right now. I do look smashing on the witness stand. In the meantime, troll through the archives to keep yourselves...amused.
Linda Sue

It was supposed to be a party...

2008-05-27T14:52:00.000-07:00

I'm busy on assignment this week, so here's a favorite from my posts on the Fellatrices. If you missed it, enjoy:

Now that we know each other well, dear reader, I can confess some dark secrets. There was the first time I went to a so-called lifestyle club. It was my senior year in college, I was just as much of a sweet young thing as you can imagine, and I was seeing an older man named Frank, among other boys and men. I had overcome many of my born-and-bred inhibitions, but more barriers were yet to be broken.

Frank took me to a party in the Hamptons. It was off-season, and once we got there I was by far the youngest in a party of five couples. The booze and pot flowed freely. I had hardly eaten that day and it took no time for the martini and marijuana to go to my head. Then the clothes started coming off. It was pretty much what you might expect: pale, middle-age bodies. Frank obviously wanted to show me off to his friends. I later learned that he and his wife had been here before. I kept my clothes on and watched.

In no time, of course, a penis was in front of my face. This was all a coincidence, of course, as I was seated and the man was standing. He had a pot belly, a thick uncircumsized cock and, I later learned, was a big Manhattan developer. What was I studying? he asked. Pretty soon I was studying his cock. People were pairing off and even starting to fuck all around me. It was a big room with cushions, plush white carpet and candles -- all very Bonfire of the Vanities late '80s.

As we talked, I started gently touching his already hardening cock. I was fascinated by the foreskin that covered the head. I could see the eye of his cock peaking through as he got harder. My fingers stroked up and down and pretty soon he wasn't talking. As he stood there, I took his cock in my hand. I gently pulled the foreskin back, revealing a prominent, very red, very sensitive cockhead. It was actually lubricated, I guess from the foreskin. This was pretty new to me.

Frank was sitting back with his Canadian Club watching me, as an older brunette got on her knees and started sucking him off with frantic lust. Suddenly, I felt a territorial competition. My pussy was wet and its scent came up to me. I momentarily thought about how my mom would react if she could see her once virginal Sue (as she calls me) now. I reached down and stroked his balls as I moved my mouth to his cock. He had a pungent smell that was at once repellent and sexy, very fuck-you manly. It filled my mouth as I took him in.

I started sucking him and he fucked my face at an easy rhythm. I stroked his balls with one hand and caressed his ass with the other, before using it to stroke his big cock. I moved the foreskin up and down, slid my tongue under it, fascinated by this different beast. Then he seemed seized by lust and grabbed my head. He fucked my mouth at an increasing rhythm. I realized I had gone from watcher to participant in a flash. Such a little slut, Linda. See a cock and have to suck it. Yes, indeed. And he erupted in my mouth, a big shot of semen flying out, followed by two or three less powerful spurts. He gave a long, low sigh-grunt. I swallowed everything. He backed away without even looking me in the eye.

And just like that another cock was in my face. It was short and red and I thought, what the hell. I could get him all the way in and gave him a sweet long sucking. When he came, he fall backward, shooting come onto my face and hair. Frank was now fucking the brunette on one of the cushions. Her legs were high in the air and she was moaning loudly. All around me, couples were fucking, even moving into trios. I was still dressed.

I sucked five men off that night and had a belly full of sperm, all different consistency, different smells and tastes. In the end, I was sucking an older guy off on the floor, on my knees as he was laid out like a sultan. I was so high and horny at that point that I didn't resist when I felt my skirt being pulled up and my panties being ripped aside. My ass was already up in the air as I madly sucked the man. I was pushed forward and moaned loudly as a big cock was shoved into my pussy. Big enough to hurt at first...it wasn't Frank...but pretty soon it felt really good. I was totally filled up. I sucked madly and jerked the cock before me, and he came in my mouth. I just buried my head against his belly as I got fucked hard by he stranger. My pussy farted loudly as he pulled nearly out and slammed back in, again and again, before settling into a steady, increasing pounding. He fucked me a long time and I came with a scream, then he unloaded. I realized all the other participants were sitting around watching me do all this. I blushed like hell and pulled my dress back down as I stood, took a little bow, and staggered to a sofa, feeling semen run out of my pussy.

Afterwards I didn't know what I thought about the adventure. Frank used me and misled me about the "party," but I was also aroused at having broken another barrier. We had to pull off the road halfway back to the city so I could avoid barfing all over his nice BMW seats. There on the side of the road was all that mingled semen. It was the most cock I had ever sucked in one "sitting," and once the nausea passed, I felt very proud of myself.

Regrets: an incomplete list

2008-05-22T13:10:00.000-07:00

What do I regret? It's a tricky question because nearly all my sexual adventures had some good attached. I do regret saying the poll question allowed multiple choice, and then forgot to check that box -- and once the poll voting has begun I can't change anything. The Internet, arrgh.

I regretted it when they fell in love and I just wanted to play. There was the guy whose cherry I popped -- he was so sweet and I was momentarily smitted. Alas, he got a real thing for me. I had to end it. This has happened several times, and my hope is that they can look back fondly. I taught them how to fuck, and they could impress any woman after me. It happened to me, too, falling in love and getting dumped. I don't regret those. Nor do I regret the times I juggled multiple lovers -- oh, sweet!

I helped screw up my marriage, with plenty of help from my ex. The awful truth is, it's hard to maintain the hotness once that wedding ring slips on. Bills have to be paid. Toilet paper has to be changed. Domestic bliss doesn't equal sexual bliss -- there's no wonder I get so many emails from men frustrated that the sex ended after marriage, or kids, and now they can't even get a blowjob from wifey. I've probably sucked a few cocks I shouldn't have -- but it sure felt good at the time.

When I was training in Virginia, some of the women went out in the hinterlands to a real honky tonk, and I let myself, in a tequila haze, be picked up by this back-woodsy good-ole-boy. We went back to his trailer full of guns -- no shit -- and he fucked me with abandon, my legs up over his shoulder. He was very masterful, very full of man smell, and had a great cock. The next morning he was off to work at 5 and I was stuck there. Had to call a girlfriend to pick me up. Oh, but I loved the moment that big cock started working its way into my little pussy. Still...bad judgment.

I regret a couple of marriages I strained or helped break up. But I have this thing for the forbidden fruit, for the rush of the dangerous. What can I say?