Category Archives: Tasty Morsels

Unbefitting

There is no argument among the members of the jury:  I fucked up.

My mistake, a boundary somewhere on the path, blown past in my haste to understand. Sometimes, I rush to communicate and it backfires on me.

I am guilty.

Guilty of showing my insecurity.  Guilty of applying pressure, something I promised never to do.  Guilty of lashing out and not taking time to choose my words with care.

Guilty. As. Charged.

But the punishment Your Honor, was too severe.

The harsh degree of punishment did not befit the crime.

And in the face of these blows, I throw my hands up in defense and silently scream:  This doesn’t fit my crime!!!

I can’t change the judgment.  I can’t defend against this.  I can’t undo the crime itself.  I can’t get through to you.

I

Can’t

Stop

Missing

You.

I have moved on already.  Multiple times and in a variety of positions.  I have felt the tingling of emotion trying to blossom in my chest. And then I think of you.

And our friendship.

And our victory laps untaken.

And the dreams we confessed to each other.

And the sins we committed.

And the parting.

And the distance.

And my crime.

And the sheer void you left behind.

And the punishment that is still hurting.

And how it never fit the crime.

I pull back hard on the reigns of my heart.  I pull into myself like a snail recoiling from unexpected touch. I push that tiny blossom down under a weighty cloak of boundless cynicism.

I could try to argue.  But it would be pointless.  In the end I have to accept my punishment.  In the end, I have to submit to the Judge and Jury.  In the end, it is just another end – I’ve survived enough of them to know I’ll get through this one too.

But you were to ask me, Your Honor, how I feel about my life sentence I would raise my voice and say: “THIS PUNISHMENT SUCKS!”

And it did not fit the crime.

 

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Filed under Erotica, Poetry, Tasty Morsels, Tender

Longing

I yearn for you.

My body swells at the thought of you; blood rushing to delicate places, heartbeat racing in my ear.

You ignite me.  Like a flame to dry tinder you set me ablaze in seconds. With a smile, with a look, with a word.

But your distance keeps you from the warm, sensual circle of my arms.  Your distance separates you from the hot longing that flows from me like salty rain.  You may be aware of my desire, or you may not.  But I can assure you, darling, it is there.  Like the sunrise, like the return of the moon every 28 days, my desire is ever-present.

I cannot slake this thirst.  I am not able to drive away this need.  The need for your body; your strong hands on my skin, your mouth in my moist, secret places.  This need will surely drive me mad.

Where are you my lover?

And why have you left me alone in this dark spiral of lust?  Without light, without touch, I am alone in a prison cell that has no walls.  Just skin and bones, muscle and sinew, and longing so vast it rivals the sea.

Please my lover, my lord, my one and only.   Won’t you please come set me free?

 

 

 

 

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Filed under Erotica, Love Notes, Tasty Morsels

Chasing Mischief

Religious people say that messages from God are everywhere; they can pop up at any time in any place.  Once you have opened your heart and mind to the messages, they suddenly appear, like a 3D image in a picture – one moment you see only dots, the next an entire portrait is clear as day.

The same thing holds true of Mischief.  Once you know what you are looking for, Mischief springs from virtually every corner of the landscape around you.

Take, for example, a call from a telemarketer.  At first blush, such a call is little more than a nuisance.  Yet when you are on the hunt for Mischief, this ubiquitous event transforms from nuisance into opportunity.

It snowed here Frida and I stayed home from work unwilling to make the treacherous drive.  As I sat with my morning coffee and contemplation I realized that it was a perfect day to enjoy an orgasm.  Not just any orgasm, but a Friday-During-Business-Hours orgasm.  A personal favorite.  While in the middle of this mini-celebration, I was interrupted by my telephone ringing.

Normally, I do not answer phones during moments of sensual distraction.  But today, I was on the look-out for Mischief.  And more than once in my dubious past, Mischief has begun with a ringing phone.  So naturally I answered, sounding a little breathless, my voice more husky than normal.

“Good Afternoon, Ma’am,” a friendly male voice intoned.

In the background I could hear the familiar buzz of a call center, complete with fingers clacking over keyboards.  I turned off my vibrator, resting it’s warm, wet tip against my thigh as I focused on the man’s voice.  It was deep with a velvety edge that I suspected could turn into a growl given the right inspiration.

“My name is Jason and  I’m calling from Comcast Cable to share some exciting news about recent upgrades to our Xfinity service.”

“Really?” I said, a smile spreading across my lips as I pictured Jason’s hard cock, idly guessing his girth while tracing my nipples.   “I’d love to hear about your service, Jason.”  My voice purred a bit and my smile widened.

There was a moment’s pause, “Okay!”  Jason said cheerfully, clearly having decided he misunderstood the intent behind my words.  “Well as you may know Comcast has spent over one million dollars upgrading their infrastructure in order to bring you, our valued customer, a more reliable Comcast experience.”

“What did you do?” I interrupted, my voice taking on a breathy quality as I plucked my nipples harder.

Another pause as Jason listened for a moment.  I took advantage and gasped lightly as I twisted my left nipple.  “We, uh, built a new tower.”  I could hear the smile in his voice.

“You did?” I asked, my breath catching in my throat as I raked my nails up my inner thighs.  “How big?”

My breathing was now growing erratic and I made no secret of that fact.  Jason lowered his voice a pitch and I envisioned him leaning in toward his computer screen, cupping his headset closer to his ear.  “How big what?”  He asked me dumbly.

I laughed, the sound a rich, velvet chuckle from the back of my throat.  “How big is your tower, Jason?”  I flicked my fingers across my clit as I asked the question, my voice trembled.  The sound of his surprised, gasp filled my ears, followed quickly by a laugh of his own.  Then I heard it:  that gravelly edge.  My pussy spasmed uncontrollably and within seconds I had my vibrator in hand.

“It’s a pretty good-sized tower.” Jason replied a tinge of flirtation in his tone.

“Will it help me stream my porn faster?” I clicked to the second speed.

“Ummm…yeah.” Jason laughed nervously, the sound cutting off as I held the vibrator near the mouthpiece of the phone.  I slid the vibrator into my mouth, licking the tip and sucking gently, making sure he heard every sound.

There was dead silence on the other end of the line.

“Jason,” I said, moistening the vibrator as I spoke.  “Do you know what I’m doing right now?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, his voice dropping lower still, “I believe I do.”

“Good.” I answered softly as I felt the wetness dribbling down over my ass.  “Do you want to hear me fuck myself until I cum, Jason?”

“In the worst way, ma’am.”  Jason answered raggedly and I suddenly wished like hell I could see the excitement of this unexpected moment blooming in his eyes.

That was all the encouragement I needed.  I clicked it up to the third speed and plunged the vibrator into my soaked slit in one smooth stroke, gasping and arching my back as the buzzing toy sank hilt-deep inside me.

“Oh my god…” Jason’s voice was lost as the phone fell onto the bed beside me.  I grabbed the hilt of the vibrator, pulling back and plunging deep again. My fingers ran furious circles over my clit and I could feel the explosion building inside me with alarming speed.  I thrust harder, crying out so my friendly Comcast telemarketer would not be left out of the fun.

“You hear how wet that pussy is, Jason?” I thrust deep again, pulling out and thrusting hard, “Do you like it when I fuck my pussy hard for you?”  His muffled reply spurred me on and I gave myself over with abandon; thrusting hard and deep, bringing myself to the edge of crescendo.  I could not hold it back – this orgasm had been building since before my phone rang and there was simply no stopping this beast now.

“I’m going to cum for you baby, are you ready for this?”  My words barely out of my mouth and the first waves grabbed my body, arching me up and shaking me violently.  I cried out as the liquid shot across my sheets.  I shuddered and struggled for breath, the inevitable laughter immediately following.   I clicked off the vibrator and removed it with a sucking tug.  I grabbed up the receiver again, my hand shaking.

“So, Jason,” I panted casually into the receiver, lapping my juices noisily off my toy, “Is that you wanted to do? Tell me about your million dollar tower?”

There was a long pause.  “Yes, ma’am.”  I heard his fingers clicking on the keyboard.  He didn’t speak, just typed.  I waited patiently, setting my cleaned toy down on the bed.

“Ma’am, I want to personally thank you for being such an excellent Comcast customer.  I’ve just credited your account for six months of free Xfinity internet service.   Thank you for your time and you have an excellent rest of your day.”  Jason’s voice was smiling again.

“Gosh, Jason,” I said, momentarily caught off guard.  “Thanks.”

“No,” his deep voice took on that hard steel edge and my pussy began moistening again.  “Thank you.

Six months free internet and an orgasm? Not a bad day’s Mischief if you ask me.

😉

 

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Morning Coffee and Thoughts About Sex

He was supposed to visit today but had to cancel due to weather.  I was primed and ready, my body tingling with a hunger that needed – that still needs – to be filled.  I had been looking forward to seeing him all week.  Looking forward to what was sure to be that blissful pinnacle, the moment when I would finally feel his thick cock stretching me, driving into my body.  Damn.

I poured my morning coffee, the early morning air cold against my bare legs, and wondered how I could possibly fill the ache within me.  I certainly had options, but they all lacked the one thing I was really craving: human touch.  I could run my hands all over my own body, I could pleasure myself 15 different ways.  But there was nothing that could reenact the bliss of a another person’s hands on my body.  Fuck.

Sure I could whip out the medicine ball, slide Bessie (my favorite pink g-spot vibe) into my slick, tight body.  I could roll my hips, bounce a bit, each rise and fall driving Bessie deep up inside me.  It wouldn’t take long like that.  A bit of that action and I’d be cumming hard in a matter of minutes.  Sometimes, I like to draw it out a bit, laying Bessie on her side, bent tip up and nestled against my clit.  I rub and roll, grinding my hips in a figure eight while I play with ample tits.  The ball allows me a wider range of motion, rolling forward and back, feeling that vibrating nub from clit to ass and back again.  Nothing to complain about there…

But it wouldn’t be strong male hands on my body.  It wouldn’t be a warm, throbbing cock inside me.  Yes, the end result is the same.  But one is intimate, passionate, connected. The other is just me, doing filthy things to a piece of exercise equipment.

I sipped my coffee, deep in thought.  As the morning light brightened the white landscape outside my window, the light of inspiration slowly awakened inside me.

CJ, I said to myself, you have a hell of an opportunity here.  A perfect excuse.  A day to yourself.  No distractions, no obligations, no reason to leave your apartment.  Everything you need is here, music, food, fresh batteries, the laptop, coffee and a mischievous intent.  What more do you really need on a snowy Friday?

So my salacious friends, stay tuned.  I will report back after my day of mischief is complete…

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Love Notes From CJ

Beloved Pets,

Guess who’s back? Back again? Pussy’s back, tell a friend!

Words cannot express how pleased Pussy and I are to be back among our literary family. It has been a long few months, filled with upheaval and transition, metaphorical births and deaths, and plenty of erotic inspiration. 😉

Among my many wicked plots and schemes is a series I am calling “Confessions.” The first of these shall be unveiled within the next week so stay tuned for that. In the meantime, should you have any confessions of your own you would like to share, perhaps you will stop in at Pussy’s Confessional where you will find Pussy lends a most comforting ear. Pull up a pillow, pour yourself a cuppa, and unburden your spirit among friends.

In addition, I will be bringing back some old favorites from the Cliterary Closet. Posts that are near and dear to my heart, mind, and of course, Pussy.

I am looking forward to catching up on blogs I have missed reading and seeing what mischief my beloved Pets have gotten into in my absence. But I promise not to spend too long reading. After all, I must write…Pussy demands it.

Moistly yours,

CJ

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With a Whisper or a Bang

She breezes back into the blogosphere, with a whisper of fabric to serve as the herald of her arrival. The hiatus has come blessedly to an end.

In the silence of these last few months she has found a new voice. In the stillness of space between her words, entire stories have been told. Chapters have been ended, plot twists have taken place. New characters have been introduced, and well-known faces have faded to distant memory. When the wind picks up and blows the sand away from the edges, you may be surprised by what is left behind.

There is a hard-won wisdom, a new, vigorous self-respect, a wicked intent that has had time to percolate, and new-found longing for things that have been lost. There are adventures not yet spoken of. Characters not yet introduced into this heady tale. So much to look forward to; so much that lies the rear-view mirror still pulling on invisible strings attached to the heart.

Every end signals a new beginning. Every death is followed by a birth. Every exit is significant, whether that final goodbye is uttered in a whisper or a bang. And every entrance is equally significant, whether a quiet hello through lowered lashes or a boisterous greeting.

Neither the whisper nor the bang signify the surprise that lies within each new beginning. Each road that intersects our own brings its own magic that unfolds just as it is meant to. Billowing out in a puff of smoke to form the exact shape and intricacy it is meant to be. We are simply a blessed audience, watching a moment in time unfold. We are all simply bearing witness to the birth of that moment. Without comprehension and without any way of understanding the significance that smoky infant will play in our worlds. Just clap your hands and wait for the story to unfold…

There is only one thing that you can be sure of: CJ is back. And where ever CJ goes, Pussy inevitably follows. 😉

Moistly yours once again,

CJ

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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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Filed under Erotica, Tasty Morsels