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Game On!

I wasn’t prepared for sex that night.  I was having a period and we had agreed before the date that it would simply be time spent hanging out, enjoying the easy conversation that had marked all of our dates thus far.  I was disappointed of course, having formed some seriously erotic intentions since the last time we were together.  But I had resigned myself to an evening of companionship with clothing on.

The last time he came to my place, he brought a black duffel bag that piqued my curiosity to no end.  When I finally worked up the nerve to ask about it, he gave a coy smile and uttered one word that left me dripping into my black thong:  “Toys.”

He came prepared.  He is a former Boy Scout, after all.

Our first encounter had left me teetering on an unfamiliar edge: satisfied for the moment yet still craving more.  My nipples, tingling and sore for three days afterwards, were a constant reminder of his firm touch, his surprisingly devilish ways.  I was as eager for my next taste as a fat kid allowed to lick the frosting knife.

We enjoyed a leisurely day together, retiring to my place for an impromptu meal.  As we sat on the couch talking, his eyes wandered over my body while I pretended not to notice.  They lingered on my breast and I could tell from the gleam in his eye he was remembering the feel of my tiny, hardened nipple in his mouth.  We continued our conversation, both of us acting normally in spite of the heated tension building between us.

Finally the tension was more than he could bear and as he made a casual comment about god-only-knows-what, his hand reached out and began pinching and rolling my nipple through my shirt.   My thoughts, incoherent and disjointed as they were, evaporated in a steamy cloud of lust.

He was not going to make it out of my house without giving me an orgasm.

My eyelids fluttered involuntarily and I sighed as the pleasure zinged between my nipples and my clit.  “You are going to cause trouble.” I told him.

He smiled, revealing his intentions with the hungry look in his eye.  “What are you going to do about that?” He asked me as his fingers tightened around my nipple.

Oh yeah.  Game on.

I reached over, tracing his crotch until he sucked in a breath and stifled a groan.  “You have no idea how bad I want you in my mouth.”  I told him.  His cock swelled in response as he flashed back to our last encounter:  his hands holding my head as he fucked my mouth with vigor.

“Duffel bag is in the car!” He declared buoyantly and jumped up to retrieve it.  I raised a brow and asked the obvious question, “But what about my -”

He cut me off with a finger over my lips and a boyish grin that stood in stark contrast to his words:  “I think I’ll fuck your ass tonight.”

Game most definitely on.

He took me to the bedroom and undressed me.  Then he took out an enema kit from his bag.  Umm… a what?

Yes folks.  He came prepared.  He is a former Boy Scout, after all.

He explained, almost clinically, what he would do.  I nodded and decided to just go with it.  After all, he seemed to know what he was doing and you don’t wait until the first drop on a roller coaster ride to decide you’d rather be on the ground.

We went to the bathroom and I followed his instructions, fighting back the incredible shyness that was overtaking me.  I waited until I needed to use the toilet and announced I was ready.  A brief pause and I firmly instructed him to wait outside while I took care of this most intimate business.  I mean jeez, there are a few things even I won’t do on a date!

I reminded myself that an ounce of prevention was worth a pound of cure and waited for what seemed an eternity.  I silently prayed the sound would not carry and my cheeks flamed red at the thought.  At one point, I thought I was finished only to discover that no, standing up shifted things around.  I sat back down and that scene from Austin Powers ran through my head, complete with computer voice:  “Evacuation compl-“… “Evacuation com-“… “Evac-“…you get the picture.

Pretty soon, I could not stifle the laughter any longer.  A serious bout of hysterics ensued.  Giggling and making farting noises on the toilet is not exactly what I would consider erotic foreplay, but when I considered the fact I let my date give me an enema, I figured he brought it on himself.

Finally, I emerged.  Refreshed, carefully cleaned, wiping tears of laughter from my face and trying not to think about what was going through his mind.

“All ready?” He asked with an amused grin as I walked into the bedroom.  I nodded.

My laughter and embarrassment faded when his hands touched my skin.  His cock was already rock hard, straining toward me as he led me to the bed and put me on all fours.  He was, of course, prepared.  His hands began stroking me, spreading the copious moisture that even with a tampon in, was seeping out of my pussy.  He stroked the outside of my ass, tracing lazy, sensual circles that mirrored those his other hand was tracing over my clit.  How he managed to erase the previous 15 minutes of cringe-worthy moments from my mind with two small circles is beyond me.  But he did.

He applied the lubricant and slid his finger inside me in slow motion.  Easing into me, breaking the seal of my virgin ass and beginning to finger me with long, smooth strokes.  It didn’t take a genius to figure out this guy knows a thing or two about ass play.  He inserted a plug, again easing it in gently and slowly, letting my body adapt to the intrusion as his fingers coaxed yet more longing out of my swollen clit.  He clicked on the plug and the vibrations made me groan.  He instructed me to remove my tampon and I grabbed a kleenex and obliged.  I didn’t think he was going to go there but he slid his fingers inside my drenched pussy and my last thought before my brain stopped functioning was gratitude that my flow was very light.

He fingered my pussy, stroking my g spot and I took over massaging my clit while he worked the plug in and out of my eager ass.  I felt the orgasm building and knew it would be epic.  He teased me to the edge, pulling back, stopping his sensual onslaught and leaving me moaning, begging for more and pushing my ass back against him like an eager slut.  He laughed softly and decisively filled my holes again, this time stroking faster and harder.  I came so hard I saw blinding, white stars behind my eyes, my entire body shaking as the sensations overwhelmed me.

He removed the toy from my ass, kissing and stroking my hot skin as I shivered and twitched in the aftermath.  He pulled me to the edge of the bed, one hand pushing gently down on my low back to position me to receive him.  As my body continued to twitch from the first orgasm, he filled my ass with his cock and began to fuck me just as he had promised.

I loved it.  I loved the fullness of him inside me.  I loved the way his cock sliding in and out of my ass made me feel like the dirtiest little whore.  I loved the fact that when he came, he thrust balls-deep inside me and I took every inch of him.  I loved the fact that I barely touched my own clit and went off again, cumming like crazy for the second time, squirting my pleasure across his pelvis and down my thighs.

As I lay in his arms, feeling his hands stroking my soft skin as we talked, I realized there were very few lovers with whom I could have had this experience so comfortably.  That thought led me to wonder what other aces this Boy Scout has up his sleeve.  I stifled a giggle against his chest, impishly flicking my tongue across his nipple as two words ran through my brain:  Game on!

 

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Pussy Progress Report – 12-14-13

Hi there my horny little readers,

Pussy here to just give you a little update.  CJ is much better, moving around and rehabilitating from her unfortunate injury.  At this point, the jury is still out on whether or not the mind-blowing orgasm that accompanied the strain was actually worth it, but hey, on the bright side she got a doctor’s note that gave her permission to stay in bed for a week and take narcotics.  I’m pretty sure there are at least one or two people out there who will have a pang of jealousy reading that.

Sad part? She’d rather be up and about, hauling a Christmas tree up to her new apartment, decorating with her Ella Fitzgerald playing, the smell of cinnamon and pine in her nose.  She’d rather be chatting with friends, shopping for surprises to delight her friends, close and far away, just to show them she is thinking about them.

Because she is.  She is thinking about her friends.  The ones who here came to her side and helped her to the emergency room.  The ones who braved icy roads to get her home and back to a safe place.  The ones who brought her healthy food and the ones who brought her naughty food.  The ones who reached out to make sure she was really okay, even the ones who just came to sit on the floor next to her bed for a while and keep her company.  Of all the medications and rehabilitation having been offered, those small connections with friends have proved to be the best medicine.

She is going to be fine.  CJ is a pretty tough cookie.  And just because she’s too incapacitated to lie in bed and type about the naughty thoughts she is having at the moment, trust me friends, she is having them and very much looking forward to sharing. 😉

And one day soon, that naughty girl will put away the Valium and Percoset and get back to delighting you readers.

And CJ has decided to add a new year’s resolution to her 2014:  More yoga classes so the next time she gets told to turn herself around and dp herself hard, she can oblige without a trip to urgent care.

Gotta have goals, right?

Stay wet friends,

Pussy

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The Hazards of Phone Sex

Oh brother.  You are not going to believe what CJ has done now.

Okay so I don’t know if you are aware of this, but our sweet little CJ has a kink for phone sex.  Personally, I think she likes it because phone sex doesn’t require time primping in front of the mirror.   I think we can all agree that CJ is an impatient little whore when she wants some.

So she meets an interesting prospect and a phone call ensues.  Good conversation, broad range of topics, laughter and a good vibe.  As the hours pass (yes, this was one of those kind of phone calls) the conversation turns frisky.  Pretty soon, CJ is panting like a slut into the phone while this guy hits all of her buttons.  He tells her what he will do to her.  How he will push her down over a table and plunge his fingers into her cunt any time just because he wants to.  He tells her how he will spread her thighs wide so he can shove his finger in her ass while he fucks her hard.

Needless to say, CJ enjoyed the conversation very much.  When the command came to go fetch a toy and shove it in her ass, she complied eagerly.  In order to perform the next series of requests her gentleman caller made, it required CJ to push the limits of her flexibility.   Not having done any stretches in order to prepare for this rather athletic sexcapade, CJ had a monstrous orgasm followed in quick succession by two more as her caller commanded he give him three orgasms.

By 340 am when the call ended, both were satied and very sleepy.  When CJ woke the next morning she noticed some slight stiffness in her low back.   As the morning progressed the pain worsened to the point she could not get out of bed.  One weekend, a trip to urgent care, an ambulance ride to the emergency room, and several shots of strong medicines, CJ is now at home resting.

When asked by the doctor if there was any inciting incident to precede the muscle strain/sprain that was causing muscle spasms and excruciating pain upon movement, CJ contemplated telling them about the phone call.  Instead she reported having carried a 25 pound box of firelogs up three  flights of stairs Friday evening.

Sure CJ, sure it was a box of firelogs.  You know the truth as well as I do, you strained your back fucking yourself like a whore and loving every second of it.  Admit it, you did this, literally, to yourself.

I know.  I was there.

So there you have it readers.  CJ is out of commission until further notice.

I’ll be your entertainment in the meantime.

xxx,

Pussy

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Domination Calling

“Do you like that, slut?”  His voice was soft, deep with a rough edge to it.  I could hear his breathing, heavy and uneven.

“Yes.” I panted into my headset.  My hands were far too occupied to hold my cell phone.

“You like it when you fuck yourself in the ass, don’t you whore?” His voice was trembling slightly.  I could hear his excitement and it fueled mine.  His arousal reached across the distance between us and scorched my skin.

“Yes.” I gasped, barely able to hold back the moans long enough to answer. “Oh god, oh fuck yes!”  My hand pumped the plug into my ass, my body writhing as my excited pussy oozed moisture everywhere.  My other hand was gripping the headboard with white knuckles.  It was the only thing maintaining separation between that hand and my hungry clit.

“Good girl.” He said, fighting to maintain control of himself.  “Now, pinch your clit. Hard.”

I did as he commanded, my sounds serving as confirmation of my obedience.  “Good,” he breathed raggedly, “Very good.”

I couldn’t stand it.  I needed to cum.  I needed to finger my clit, to plunge something, anything, into my pussy.  It had been almost an hour.  Pinching, pulling, teasing, his voice the strings that dictated the movements of my erotic dance.  He had brought me to the edge and let me teeter there, listening to me as I breathed, moaned, cried out to maintain my balance.

“Please.”  The words left me as a whisper but ended as a groan.  It was all I could manage.  It is hard to talk when your body is on fire.  I could feel the tears in the corner of my eyes as I heard the primal need in my own voice.

“Please what, whore?” He prompted.

“I need to touch my clit! Please!”  I struggled to speak.  I didn’t care if I sounded pathetic.  I didn’t care if I sounded whiny or desperate.  I just wanted his permission.  Needed it.

The silence dragged out as I continued fucking my ass, switching hands quickly as one grew tired.  The moisture of my body coated my fingers.  I could still feel and smell the dried moisture on my face from earlier, when he made me smear my pussy juice on myself.

“You may touch it.”  He was breathing harshly now and I sensed his own struggle was taking place.

I gasped and my fingers flew to my clit, rubbing it slowly in contrast to the furious pumping of my ass and I moaned my thanks.  It was only a minute before I was gasping that I was going to cum.

“Stop.”  I almost ignored his command but the steel in his voice was like an invisible chain, yanking my hand away.

I did as he instructed, even though it pained me to do it.  He repeated the ritual a few more times, bringing me to the edge and yanking my hand away with his iron words.  It was a physical ache now.  The need was howling but I still obeyed.  I panted, slowed my pace and waited the eternity between his last command and his next question.

“I’m going to cum soon, slut.  Tell me where you want me to cum.”  His voice grew raspy and the sound of it was like a hot tongue flicking over my pussy.  It twitched in eager response.

“Anywhere you want.”  I said, “Except my face. Not on my face.”  I could hardly wait.  My body had been riding the edge of this wave for so long, I felt as though I was going to explode.  I breathed deep, trying to calm myself as my hand continued delivering strokes into my ass with the plug, long and slow.

“Where?”  He asked again.  He needed me to be specific.

“My pussy.”  I told him, laughing out loud.  The torture I felt was so exquisite, so complete.  All I could do was fuck my ass and laugh.  “I want you to cum inside me.”

“You want to feel my cum in your pussy?” He asked unevenly.  I could hear him teetering on his own edge and the sound of it gripped me.

“Mmm hmmm.” It was all I could say, my attention was entirely focused on the sounds of his arousal, the sound of his cock being pumped by his fist.

“You may touch your clit again.”  He grunted at me.  My fingers flew with lightning speed to the center of my urgency.  “Rub it fast and hard.”  His voice was growing tight and I could sense his orgasm was nearing.  I could almost feel his swollen head inside me and my hands worked faster, pumping my ass quickly as I rubbed.

We reached our crescendo together, my cries reaching a fever pitch just a stroke or two before his.  I could almost feel the heat of his cum inside me.  I could hear his shudders wrack his body, the sound of his release thrilling me just as mine had done for him.  And before I knew it, I was laughing with delight.

Utterly spent.  Satiated.  Finally given permission to cum.

Copyright 2013 CJ Riordan – Originally Published March 19, 2013

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Confessions: The Suburban Housewife

I am a pretty ordinary woman.

I don’t have a lot of juicy stories or adventures. My idea of a wild night on the town is usually going out with a few of my fellow moms and unwinding with some drinks while we eat fattening foods, protesting that we “really shouldn’t” as we shove mouthfuls into our faces.

Most of my weekends are spent doing the chores that were procrastinated during the week. Making sure the laundry is all caught up and sheets are changed on all the beds. Stocking the pantry for school lunches and organizing homework folders. Making sure the husband has freshly pressed shirts for the week ahead. Attending birthday parties and soccer games. Selling cookie dough and coupon books for the PTA.

It is easy to get caught up in the minutia. It is easy to forget that before the diapers and endless loads of laundry, before the toy-strewn stairs and parent-teacher conferences, I was a woman. Never a Goddess or a Glamour Girl. But a woman first and foremost.

Recently, I had a startling reminder that there is still a woman underneath the soccer mom exterior. That eye-popping reminder came in the form of a cock in my ass.

It was the third Friday of the month. Mom’s night out. I had been sitting in the bar of a local cantina, swallowing margaritas with abandon and listening to my girlfriend Pam talk about the endless stream of guys she was meeting in her post-divorce OKCupid online dating frenzy. I’m not going to lie. I was jealous. It had been so long since my husband had taken me on a date, or done anything more romantic than look at me over the edge of his laptop and say, “Wanna have sex?” And even that wasn’t happening very often these days. As she prattled, my thoughts began pulling me into a familiar and dark place.

I ordered another margarita and watched Pam discreetly text as we chatted. It didn’t take long before she had lined up some action and gave me a lame excuse about needing sleep, promising to meet up again soon before she headed out of the cantina smirking. I glanced at my phone, it was 8:40. I thought about heading home but instead ordered another drink.

I didn’t go out that night with the intention of cheating. Hell, I hadn’t even shaved my legs. But somewhere between the jealousy, the alcohol and the fact that I hadn’t been laid in over two months, something inside me just gave in. When he approached my table and offered to buy me a drink, I didn’t even stop to ask myself if I should or shouldn’t. I didn’t think at all. I just acted.

I am ashamed to say I did it. I pushed the guilty thoughts aside and went to his place, a nondescript bachelor pad that I barely took note of. We got no more than three steps in before he pulled me to him and kissed me.

It didn’t take long for the clothes to come off. It took even less time for me to become completely lost in the feel of his hands and mouth on my body. I didn’t know this guy, but I did know that I liked the way he touched me. His strong hands were in all the right places and I happily gave myself over to the fantasy his touch created.

The sharp sting of his hand against my ass brought me swiftly back to reality. My skin lit on fire as my shocked mind registered the fact he had just spanked me. Hard. No sooner had the realization hit me then he struck again, the palm of his large hand landing flat against my pale round cheek. Flames of sensation licked across my ass. Again and again he spanked me, with such force that a sheen of sweat began to cover his face. I was starting to freak out, the painful heat becoming more than I could bear when he stopped.

“God you have a great ass.” He said breathlessly, trailing his fingertips across my blazing skin. He pulled his hands away long enough to yank my jeans completely off. He bent me forward, my palms splaying against the wall to brace myself. His foot pushed my legs wider apart and dropped to his knees. With a rush I felt his hands grab my tingling ass cheeks and spread me wide. Seconds later his face was buried in my pussy. I gasped, somewhere in my drunk mind registering the fact that his tongue was covering me from clit to ass, and it felt incredible. I moaned and pushed against his face, wanting more, getting lost in the sensations of his tongue lapping away at my swollen clit. Then I felt his tongue dip lower, flicking and swirling around my ass.

Now I am not someone who has never had her ass touched. Not like my friend Jenny who would rather swim through maggots than have a guy touch her asshole, but I am not that experienced with it. Assplay isn’t something my husband keeps in his standard rotation of tricks. But when this guy’s tongue started flicking across my ass and I could feel his hands gripping my cheeks and stretching me, I went gonzo.

I ground my body against him, I moaned and demanded he lick my ass more. There was no discomfort and I felt no embarrassment. Just dirty exhiliration at the sensation of his tongue probing my ass while his fingers delved into my pussy. He moaned in pleasure as my juices coated his hand and flowed over his palm. Thrusting up into me faster, he slid one of his lubed fingers into my ass, easing it slowly in as his tongue teased me open. My volume ticked up a notch. He slid that finger slowly in and out, stretching my tight, virgin ass. My fist pounded the wall.

Between the fingers filling my holes and his clever tongue it wasn’t long before I was cumming hard, gasping and filling his palm with liquid. He stood, face shiny with my juices and a demonic glint in his eye. He said nothing, just took my arms and led me to the back side of his couch. He bent me forward and without preamble, slid his cock into my still-tingling pussy and pushed his thumb into my ass. I came again in short order, shocked and amazed at how good my body felt.

He pulled out of me, grabbed my cheeks and spread me again, bringing the head of his cock to my ass and pressing against me. “Now I think I’ll fuck your pretty ass.” He told me and my pussy clenched and drooled in response even as raw fear swirled in my chest.

He eased slowly into me, encouraging me to relax my body as his cock carefully took up residence in my ass. I was speechless. The feeling of him filling me, the pleasure-filled pain of my body stretching to accommodate him, the sheer taboo thrill of it, all rendered me speechless. All I could do was groan.

And then he started fucking me.

Short strokes to start, just letting my body adjust to it. His hands roaming me, flicking my clit, teasing my pussy, pinching and twisting my nipples, as his strokes got longer. I could hear his breath coming faster, his groans of pleasure echoing my own. His deep voice filled my head with words so nasty I can’t repeat them without blushing. And I loved every second of it.

His hand slid across my back, up to my neck. I grunted as he gripped a handful of hair at the back of my head and pulled roughly. He used my hair like a handle, pulling me back against him, forcing me to meet that hungry cock thrust for thrust. He shoved two fingers into my pussy and the combination caused me to shudder and start cumming again. This time, he joined me. Filling my ass with his cum; conquering new territory in the name of man.

When I woke the next morning with a pounding headache, you could not see the red marks on my skin. I barely remembered the cab dropping me off at home. But my ass was sore and I smiled every time the familiar ache went through me that day. I don’t even remember his name. But I sure as hell remember what he did to me.

And that’s my confession.

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