Enter Pussy’s Confessional

As you know, CJ is on hiatus. Apparently, hiatus is code for passed-out-after-too-many-rum-and-coke-zeros. Not being the sort of Pussy that passes up opportunities, I decided it was time for me to have my say. And I say this: Fuck the hiatus. CJ can take her hiatus. She can rest and relax and rejuvenate like she’s on vacation at Club Fucking Med, but in the meantime, It’s Pussy Time!

Life happens. Sometimes it pulls people away from the things that are important. It makes people uncomfortably shift their priorities, like people crammed into an elevator, afraid to stand too close to the stranger next to them. Sometimes life requires sacrifices, tough decisions, and painful partings. And sometimes, life requires Random Acts of Pussy.

There is a subtle difference between CJ and me. CJ is an emotion-driven person. She seeks to experience the world through her heart. Whereas I, a Willful Pussy, prefer to experience the world through my muscular, wet walls. Where CJ is about emotion, I am about sensation. Strangely though, the two are often tied together. Some of the most quivering moments I have known were driven, not by the most fantastic cock to enter me, but by the cock that CJ felt most passionately and emotively for. I am a simple bundle of nerves after all. Stroke me and I will purr for you. But stroke CJ, invoke her mind, involve her overactive imagination, engage her passionate heart, and my purrs become howls, moans, juicy floods of satisfaction that wreck the duvet cover and mean extra laundry in the morning.

When it is all said and done, however, I am just a simple Pussy. I want to be quenched. I want to be fulfilled. My goal, my deepest delight, is to know intimately every stroke of a masterful cock. To feel the sweeping attentions of a diligent and nimble tongue. To have just the right spots licked, pounded, petted, pressed, and delighted by any manner of digits or items simulating them.

I desire orgasm. I desire release so profound that I shoot liquid, that I shake and quiver, clench and tremble. I desire the most base and simplistic primal need. I. WANT. TO. CUM.

Ultimately, I don’t care if CJ loves you. What matters is whether or not I love you. Because if I don’t, look out. I’ll be prowling the alleys, bookstores, universities, coffee shops, home improvement stores, farmers markets and online advertisements, for my next taste of abandon.

So…what does this Pussy want? Easy. This Pussy wants abandon, possession, satisfaction, loving abuse, attention, creativity, perseverance, reverence, tender mishandling, fearlessness, deliberation, passion, ferocity and a fierce pounding that is felt for days thereafter. Isn’t that just about what every Pussy craves?

So, faithful readers, let me be your Priestess. Allow me the pleasure of presiding over your confessional. Sit on the wooden bench, slide back the screen and whisper your darkest desires to me.

Tell me, sinful readers, what do you crave?

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32 Comments

Filed under Erotica, Tasty Morsels

32 responses to “Enter Pussy’s Confessional

  1. Sensational Blog! Are You In My Head? Sensuality! To be Swept off my Feet! For my partner to Listen and Hear My Wants, Desires, and make them a reality. MMEEOOWWWW

  2. cAt

    I was going to write this later, but now I have to tell you, I just sent your post link to a friend and wrote her “oh my word…that, that is EXACTLY what I want, what I crave, what I need…for I Have Never Had That Before…” πŸ™‚

    • Yay! That makes me all moist and happy! Thanks for sharing the Pussy, there’s plenty to go around, after all!

      Like I said, is that just about what every Pussy craves??

      Welcome to my naughty little corner of the world. πŸ˜‰

  3. Well…right now I crave a rum and coke zero…

  4. G

    I want my muse back, I’m sick of pretending I have passion.

  5. my cravings are simple, to lay in the arms of my love, to feel his skin and his breath upon my skin. To know the rhythem of his heart beat. To share is touch and his beath and his life and his love. And yes to have screaming orgasm after screaming orgasm from his touch. To feel the love that man has to offer from the depths of our souls, and from the sting of his very large hand upon my ample curvy ass.And to wear the marks of his love on my skin. And i want this today, tomorrow and always until we are old. And then i just want to lay in his arms and feel his breath and his skin on my skin until we both breath no more.

  6. I want to feel, not HEAR, my beloved’s sacrament, for him to worship me with tongue and teeth and rod of ultimate salvation…. I want my juices to be his libation, filling him with intoxication my screams and sighs an invocation to bind him in eternal adoration…..

    Would that my beloved was at hand, that he not live on some distant land, so that his Goddess his flesh could sweetly brand….

  7. Derek

    To CJ
    To spirit you away to a remote island in the Maldives.
    No phone no PC no digital communications.
    Well stocked bar on ones own floating room with rainforest shower and spa.
    To sit a gaze at the galaxy and explore if chemistry exists.

    • sounds like heaven… πŸ˜‰

    • Ok CJ may think that sounds like heaven, but Pussy has a question before she agrees: Is there bacon? Cause if there is bacon, then it definitely sounds like heaven! πŸ˜€

      • Derek

        Pussy,
        Gorgeous nymphette, of tantalising tumultuous teasing titillation, blossom you want bacon, name your favourite and it will be yours, intriguing mistress of mesmerisation

      • I adore alliteration. You have combined the rare and seductive combination of alliteration and bacon. Well done my darling. If I were wearing panties they would no doubt be on the express train to my ankles by now.

        Make it pepper bacon if you please darling. And thick cut. I like my meat on the thick side. πŸ˜‰

        I’m so glad you’re back beloved Derek. I missed you.

      • Derek

        Pulsating Pussy,
        Delectable desirable deviant diva of elegant eloquence one would be alarmingly aroused to see your Victoria Secret silken thong descending to your ankles. Now that is a fun filled fantasy of mesmerising magnificence mimicking majestically your wanton wishes.

      • πŸ™‚ I’m flattered by your comments, more than a little flushed and moistened, and infinitely twitterpated. Sigh…

  8. Pingback: Who Me? | my place...

  9. night owl

    “and delighted by any manner of digits or items simulating them”
    You took the words right out of my mouth… “digits or items”. Love me some digits, thumb folded over the palm, fingers squeezed tight together, easing their way s-l-o-w-l-y inside. Then … that tortuous moment at the knuckles … just … so, and ahhhhhh. If the owner of those digits has magic in him, he curls those fingers up inside and carries Night Owl off to the realm of still waters, red suns and purple skies.
    Failing that, items will do. πŸ™‚
    Thanks for the delightful distraction from my workday.

  10. Pingback: Love Notes From CJ | Cliterary Review

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