The B____ Inside

This week's PostSecret

2007-08-13T15:04:00.000-07:00

Wow. This is really good. And I almost missed it...

Sonnet 57

2007-07-27T06:02:00.001-07:00

How is it, I wonder, that I made it through umpteen years of school and never read Shakespeare? I have no idea. I ran across this recently and really liked it.

Sonnet 57

Being your slave, what should I do but tend

Upon the hours and times of your desire?

I have no precious time at all to spend,

Nor services to do, till you require.

Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour

Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you,

Nor think the bitterness of absence sour

When you have bid your servant once adieu;

Nor dare I question with my jealous thought

Where you may be, or your affairs suppose,

But, like a sad slave, stay and think of nought

Save, where you are how happy you make those.

So true a fool is love that in your will,

Though you do any thing, he thinks no ill.

From Shakespeare Online.

In other news, I had the opportunity to do some traveling recently and visited The House of The Seven Gables. I think I could write a story about that crooked, twisty stairwell and the room at the top of it. If life wasn't sucking me dry right now, that is.

Their gift shop had terrific t-shirts with a quote from The Scarlet Letter. Of course, I can't find a picture of the thing now, but I did call a friend to tell him about it. I suspect the folks who were close enough to hear my half of the conversation were intrigued. Or alarmed. (No worries, you Emily Posts out there; I stepped outside to make the call. People just kind of wandered into my "phone zone.") I kind of wish I'd bought it, but logic prevailed. Do I really need another t-shirt? Right.

Everything is Subject to Change

2007-05-29T19:16:00.000-07:00

Such is the life of a road warrior, she thought to herself. Two hours of podunk middle of nowhere with only Boston and The Clash to keep her company. No radio station would stay with her long enough to make it through one song. She finally gave up and made it her mission to figure out exactly what the lyrics were saying in “Train in Vain.” She was frustrated. This route was new to her, but she’d made the trip a couple of times already and she knew what to expect. There was no one to blame but herself, she thought, as she pictured her CD case laying on her nightstand at home. Next to her bed.

She shook off the thought and drove onward. She turned the volume up and was determined to hear that line. “You said you love me and that’s a fact. Then you left me, so you took that track.” No… “…sewed a felt rack.” Caciphonous laughter, but no. “Said you’d tell Jack.” Um, no. Give it a rest and move on.

“said you felt trapped”

“All the times
When we were close
I'll remember these things the most
I see your body come tumbling down…”

Argh! No.

And so it went for the next hour. Finally, like a neon oasis in the desert of pine trees, she spotted her destination. Exit 145. As she rolled to the top of the ramp, she rolled her head around, loosening the muscles in her neck and shoulders. So many decisions: left to Stuckey’s and a Truck Stop. Right to the hotel, a BBQ shack and a Mexican Restaurant. Her client was a good two hours off the interstate and she’d decided after the last fiasco of trying to get there in the dark, only to find out there was nowhere to stay, this place would do.

I see all my dreams come tumbling down.

She pulled up to the door of the lobby and went inside. Behind the desk was a young kid. Too young to be manning the desk on the evening shift. He was tall and thin and his hands seemed too large for his body.

She drove around to her room, 145, and parked in front of the door. As a child, she’d played the state tag game on family car trips and still couldn’t help but notice a “foreign” tag. The silver Volvo with Vermont plates was parked two spaces over in front of room 147. A weathered bumper sticker reminded her that “Everything is Subject to Change.”

Indeed.

Thy Letter of Infamy, Part 2

2007-04-16T07:44:00.000-07:00

Read Part 1.

He seemed startled. “Um… sure!”

She sat down and the game of small talk started. He was in town on business. It was his first night here and his first visit to the city. She directed the conversation with ease and dropped some major hints about what they might be doing elsewhere. He seemed flattered to have the company and a bit uneasy with the aggressive flirting. But hell, that’s what he was here for. It just usually wasn’t this easy for him.

In the elevator he kissed her. It was a sloppy, wet, formless kiss. The kind she detested. Once they were in his room, she quickly started to undress him and avoided his mouth by kissing her way down his skin behind her fingers as they unbuttoned and unzipped. She turned off the lights and they fell into bed. He fucked her missionary style and did so very much like he kissed. It was sloppy and formless.

She pulled some tricks out of her arsenal like gripping his cock tightly when he pulled back. She also ran a finger along the crack of his butt cheeks, teasing at the puckered spot below. He grunted and it was over soon enough. She extracted herself from his arms and pushed the bathroom door closed before turning on the light.

The A stared back at her and she almost whimpered in desperation. She looked at him from the doorway.

“So do you ever tell your wife about these romps you have while traveling?”

He looked at the outline of her body silhouetted in the light behind her.

“I’m not married.”

“What’s with the ring?”

He held his hand up to look at it, as if he’d just discovered it was there.

“Oh… I’ve heard women always go for married men. I thought I’d give it a try myself.” He smiled up at her. “It seems to be working out well so far.”

In a fury, she got dressed and left as quickly as possible. She drove aimlessly for a while and then knew she had to face the inevitable. Her husband would be expecting her and would be ready for a night of sex. He always was when she returned from a trip.

She went in and found he was already in bed. She reached to turn the lamp off and he stirred, telling her to leave it on. He pulled her onto him and kissed her slowly, working his way along her jaw line to her ear lobe, where he nibbled and sucked softly. Though they’d done this for years, she never felt it was stale. He knew where her buttons were and simply pressed them every time.

He rolled over so they were facing one another and reached inside her blouse to play with her breast.

“Let me blindfold you.” Her gaze met his.

“I might blindfold you, but you know I like to watch too much.”

She steeled herself for what she knew was coming.

He continued to kiss her, working his way down to the nape of her neck now. His hand played with her nipple through the fabric of her shirt.

“Come with me,” he said, taking her hand and pulling her up. He led her to his study where he turned on the light and pushed her roughly over the back of an over-stuffed chair. He tapped the inside of an ankle with his foot, silently telling her to spread her legs. Leaning down over her, his tongue found her ear again.

“You want to spice things up, huh?” He whispered it.

Before she had a chance to answer him, his hands were under her skirt, pulling it upward around her waist and pulling her panties down around her ankles, where he made her step out of one leg of them.

Just as quickly, his cock was buried in her cunt. She held onto the arms of the chair to brace herself. He grabbed a handful of her hair and used that to brace himself. He fucked her hard, varying the pace to stop and look at his cock where it impaled her pussy. He pulled her hair hard and she moaned and arched her back, changing the angle of her cunt. Then he fucked her fast and hard; the sound of his balls slapping her echoed in the room.

She held on and couldn’t believe what was happening. This was an incredible stroke of luck that might buy her another day. Her husband fucked her hard and she momentarily forgot about her predicament. Her cunt gripped his cock on each thrust and she soon heard signs of his impending orgasm.

He came hard and deep inside her. After he caught his breath, he helped her up and kissed her warmly. They walked to the bedroom, hand in hand, and she helped him undress. She went off to the bathroom and as she stepped out of her skirt, she could feel come start to run out of her. That was a feeling she loved. She hoped this wouldn’t be the last time she felt his come dripping out of her.

She started to plot her day tomorrow. The gym might be an option. Or a grocery store closer to the city. It was unusual for her to feel uneasy about getting laid. It was something she did with ease anywhere else.

She unbuttoned her blouse and was shocked to find the mark was gone. She lifted her breast and looked more closely. No indication that anything had been there could be seen. Her skin was as creamy and pale as it always had been. Stunned, thoughts raced through her mind. Maybe it didn’t have to be someone who was cheating after all. Maybe now the average-looking guy at the hotel was finding himself with a new mark on his body. She was puzzled.

Mind still reeling, she walked out of the bathroom and stared at her husband. Already asleep on his side facing away from her, unaware of the new tattoo that now sat on the back of his shoulder. She stood in the bedroom and her mind tried to comprehend the situation. Her husband was so proud of their fidelity. He touted the benefits of a long marriage whenever the subject came up. She was in disbelief.

Sleep was long in coming to her. Not only was she remembering the occasions when he’d sung the praises of marriage, but she now was faced with a certainty she wasn’t prepared for. Her husband had been fucking someone else. She pictured the shapely co-eds that loved his classes. How stereotypical, she thought. Her mind felt numb and she tossed and turned until the sun came up.

When she woke up the next morning, he’d already gone. Off to the gym or the pool or the basketball court. She made a thankfully decent pot of coffee and worked in her home office, following up on the meeting she’d attended. She tried not to think about the tattoo and at times she succeeded long enough to make her wonder if it had even been real.

When he came in from the gym, freshly showered she noticed, she followed him to the bedroom where they chatted and caught each other up on their day. He was determined to get started on that list of chores and decided to do some touch-ups on a recent painting project. She watched as he changed into old clothes, anxious for him to turn around so she could see for herself that it did indeed still exist.

He obliged unknowingly and she was amazed to find it was gone. Gone! She sat on the bed after he’d left the room. Had it really happened? Was it a dream? She felt guilty for silently accusing him of sleeping with someone else. But to be sure, she walked to the mirror and lifted her shirt. She saw only creamy pale skin and breathed a sigh of relief.

She vowed to put all of this out of her head. Chalking it up to the after-effects of too much alcohol, she told her mind to let it go.

They enjoyed a nice evening together. He grilled steaks and as they were sitting down to eat dinner, the doorbell rang. She opened the door to find Evan, her husband’s graduate assistant. He had a stack of papers in his hand.

“Hi. Sorry to bother you, I just wanted to drop off some papers before we leave town.” Smiling at him, she looked over his shoulder to see his young wife and their 6-month old waiting in the car. She waved.

“Oh, sure. No problem. Come on in.”

Her husband met them at the door and took the papers. After a moment of chit-chat about where he and his family were going for their spring break, her husband wished them a good trip and opened the door. She added her farewell and they both watched from the doorway as Evan turned and walked back to his car. She saw it then, as plain as day… the tattooed letter A on the back of his muscular calf. It was deep red, almost a burgundy color.

Thy Letter of Infamy, Part 1

2007-04-15T08:19:00.000-07:00

Sunlight filtered in through the gauze-like sheers and she lazily opened her eyes. Events of the last 12 hours replayed themselves in her mind and she couldn’t help but cringe. She didn’t do married men. It wasn’t her thing. Make no mistake… she traveled a lot for work and had gone for quickies with men in places and situations that would make many women blush. She was a prideful bitch working in a man’s industry and she grabbed opportunities by the balls. She worked hard and she played like a man.

Even her husband thought so.

She’d lost track of the number of rounds they’d had last night. The guy was her height, after she’d ditched the 3-inch heels that had pinched her toes all day long. Dark hair and dark eyes. Everything that she didn’t usually go for in a man. Yet, he was a damned fine salesman, because he’d managed to get her in the sack.

A wave of nausea rode over her and she sat on the edge of the bed until it passed. At least he didn’t want to stay, she thought to herself as she fought with the miniature coffee maker. She hated hotel coffee. There was a fortune to be made by having Starbuck’s hook up with room service. But that was a fortune for another day.

She flipped on the light in the bathroom and shielded her eyes from the harsh brightness until they adjusted. Splashing cool water onto her face, she drew a hand towel across her cheeks gently. She stared at her reflection noting the dark circles under her eyes. Her hair gave the appearance of that “just fucked” look. The whites of her eyes were a little bloodshot.

She was washing off the remnants of last night’s makeup when she saw it. About an inch tall, the letter A appeared on her right breast, a couple of inches above her nipple. It was deep red, almost a burgundy color. She gasped and at the same time began washing it off, wondering where it had come from to start with. She didn’t remember anything other than the romp with the guy. Come to think of it, he seemed a bit over-zealous. He took the term ‘quickie’ literally; he fucked and ran.

She rubbed at it harder, noticing that it wasn’t washing away at all. A mild sense of panic mixed with irritation began to bubble its way to the surface. Not only wasn’t it going away, she was making the area around it red by scrubbing so hard.

She tossed the washcloth to the floor and tried another approach: she scraped at it with her fingernail. Still, nothing happened. The A glared at her in the mirror.

Just then the phone rang. It was her wake-up call. If she didn’t get moving she’d miss her flight. She wanted to be out of this hotel, this function, this town, so she could put this behind her. And as she scrubbed more furiously in the shower, she felt another wave of nausea when she tried to think how she was going to explain this to her husband when she got home.

Home. She unpacked quickly and said she needed a shower to wash away the travel grime. She dropped her clothes in a pile and silently cursed as she saw it was still there. Cupping her breast in her hand, she raised it to get a closer look and was shocked to see it was unmistakably a tattoo. It had to be.

Like many other things, she was experienced in this, too. She turned her back to the mirror and looked over her shoulder. The tiny ladybug on her right ass-cheek seemed to twitch its wings at her. That one was from another drunken night, this time in college. Five other women she’d been friends with had the same ladybug tattooed on their asses.

She turned her attention back to her breast, comparing the colors and the depth of the designs. This tattoo wasn’t fresh. There was no angry, inflamed skin surrounding it. It looked as if it had been there for years.

She numbly went through the motions of a shower and thankfully was able to get dressed before her husband came in. They chatted about her trip and about his work. He’d given his last lecture of the week and spring break the following week promised the chance for him to get to that “honey do” list of chores.

She groaned inwardly as she realized that it was going to be even more difficult to hide this from her husband if he was going to be around the house for over a week. And she had no other work trips pending at the moment.

She took these worries to bed with her, where she intended to have a few hours of denial: sleep. Reaching to turn the lamp off, something caught her eye. On top of the ever-present stack of books on her husband’s nightstand, she saw The Scarlet Letter.

The audible gasp shook her. She picked up the book and flipped through it, stopping to read the notes her husband had written in the margins. “Symbol of sin.” “Secrecy.” “Adulterer.” That one was underlined.

She closed the book and rested it on her chest while she tried to recall the story’s plot. She remembered something about the minister. Flipping through the pages with more determination this time, she took a while to find the passage where the minister exposes his own scarlet letter - seared into his flesh.

She drew the covers up tightly around her and thought about her situation more critically. The man from last night had seemed almost anxious to fuck her. Not anxious to get in her pants like most men were, but… almost desperate. She tried to find an explanation that made sense of all this nonsense and while not getting anywhere, she drifted off to sleep.

Dreams came quickly that afternoon and they were a mish-mash of images left over in her brain. A meeting with a client that, in her dream had her taking him into a dressing room and sucking him off. Then she was at the airport, detained by security and taken to a small room where she was stripped and searched by several men and a woman. The woman had been rougher than any of the men, forcing a thumb deep in her anus without so much as a warning.

Then she was dressed in the somber high-necked garb of the woman in The Scarlet Letter. Her stiff wool smock was adorned with the dreaded letter A, yet she walked through the modern day: a meeting for work. Her colleagues were all dressed in their business casual attire and they glared at her with scorn as she walked in. The only available seat was next to a man similarly dressed in Puritan garb; a minister. The unmistakable white collar seemed to choke him.

A PowerPoint presentation flashed on the screen at the front of the room showing pie charts and graphs. The speaker seemed to drone on and on and the minister leaned closer to her and began to whisper. She leaned toward him with a slight shake of her head indicating she hadn’t heard him.

“Check your Blackberry,” he whispered again.

She reached deep in the folds of her woolen skirt and wasn’t surprised to find her Blackberry. She scrolled through her email and found something with the subject line, “A.” She opened it.

Burning shame may blaze upon thy bosom. Wouldst thou invoke shame unto another? Wouldst thou plot evil against another in order to serve me? Thou mayest search the multitude for one to sway. Prithee, make haste. Thy letter of infamy serveth as Heaven’s own method of retribution. I would enjoy upon thee to find another upon which to bestow my gift. Be thee not afraid. Betray me not.

She awoke with a jolt, breathing fast and fighting down the feeling of panic that threatened to grip her. The dream was still very real in her mind and she thought she knew what it meant. She had to give the letter away. It made sense. The urgency with which the guy from last night had wanted her. His determination and anxious demeanor. He was giving the letter away. She knew that had to be the answer.

As she dressed, she started to plot. Her job afforded her the opportunity to be the slut she really was. She went from town to town, bar to bar, fucking men at whim. But in her town, she was that other person - the good wife. Her husband’s colleagues from the university admired them for having such a strong marriage. In a time when the number of divorces meant new faces at every faculty event, this was rare… and well respected.

She wanted – no, needed – to find someone to test her theory on. And she needed to do it now. She was mortified that her husband might see the mark. The desperation she remembered from last night’s conquest crept into her.

She drove fast along the two-lane road that took her toward the city. She didn’t know how to do this in her town and her mind raced with possibilities. She pulled into the parking lot of a popular after-work hangout. The cocktails were half price from 4 to 7pm and she definitely thought the lubrication would help.

She ordered a gin and tonic and started to scout. There were few men around the bar. There was a group of 4 women at a table nearby. They seemed to be celebrating some event or another and had gotten a good start on happy hour before she arrived. A few men buzzed by their table, stopping to chat and check things out. She checked their ring fingers. After three drinks and having narrowed down her options to the bar manager or a busboy, she headed out. The gin had settled her a little and she was glad for it.

Next she found herself pulling up at the valet at a swanky downtown hotel. Surely between the conventions and other business travelers, she could find a man who was looking for a quick fuck. She did this all the time, but there was something about being near home. It was like kryptonite. It seemed to suck the confidence out of her.

She sat down at the bar and ordered another glass of courage. This seemed to be more promising and she took stock of ring fingers around the room. Not a sure thing, but hopefully it would narrow down the options. A few stools down from her, a man sat alone. The gold band on his finger seemed to sparkle in the light and she wondered if the alcohol was playing tricks on her.

He was average. Nothing about him stood out, she realized. In any other situation, she’d not have looked his direction twice. But this was not any other situation. She stood and walked the short distance to where he sat.

“Can I join you?”

Read Part 2.

"Snack Cart!" Part 2

2007-02-28T19:15:00.000-08:00

Read part 1.

She made the afternoon rounds, invisibly pushing the cart, going through the motions. This had turned out to be a good job for her while she was busy flunking out of college. It required no thought and her autopilot engaged almost effortlessly. The money she made pushing the cart would pay for her spring break trip and that’s all she cared about. She was counting the days.

She found herself standing outside the office of that man who’d caused her haze to momentarily clear. “The man who likes bananas.” That’s how she thought of him. He made her squirm and she got the impression lately that when he looked at her, he really saw her… and he saw right through her. It was eerie.

She waited for him to emerge from his office, then remembered he’d said he had a meeting. Her mental rolodex flipped through the selections he’d made recently and she picked up a chocolate chip cookie and a bag of peanuts… and, of course, a banana. She looked up and down the hallway, feeling a little nervous about actually entering one of the offices. But in she went.

His desk was strewn with papers and files and stacks of stuff. She was quite surprised at the lack of organization. She looked around trying to find a clean spot to leave his snack. She found none. Instead, a piece of paper peeking out from a stack of files caught her eye. She carelessly deposited the cookie and nuts on a file marked “FY06” as she slid some folders off the top of the drawing. It was indeed a sketch, and as she uncovered it, she glanced back over her shoulder at the door.

The cart remained there in the hallway, alone. The masses from the mailroom hadn’t found it, but at that point she wasn’t concerned. With the files moved aside, she saw a steno pad – spiral bound – and moved to pick it up. Delight rushed through her as she took in the image. It was a doodle. Something he’d drawn while distracted… perhaps on a conference call. Maybe while sitting in yet another meeting.

Thoughts crowded her mind. It looked just like him! Did he really see himself this way? What is UP with that hair?! She snickered and covered her mouth with her hand. Her eyes focussed on his exaggerated crotch. She wondered if this was like the middle-aged guy who drove a Porsche to compensate… then she saw the whip. The hand that moments ago covered a snicker now unconsciously made its way to her chest. She swallowed hard. Her emotions went from feeling a sort of endearment to feeling a sort of dread. She glanced at the words written across the paper: Lord Muerte. The smile crept back onto her face.

Then she saw it… sitting in the trash can on top of a few papers that had somehow managed to find their way there. The banana. The banana she’d picked out for him. He was the man who liked bananas. He’d caught her eye and captured her attention, then thrown it away. Literally.

Looking back at the drawing, she scoffed at the word “Lord.” She picked it up and flipping the page forward, she ripped it from the spiral binding and looked at the impression the ballpoint pen had left on the page underneath. Taking the banana gingerly out of the trashcan, she gathered up the other snack items.

A hasty trip to the cart and she was back to leave the snack that had been requested of her… She thought it was a simple response to his statement. Beef jerky.

Later that night, she’d lie in bed and look intently at the drawing that she’d stuck to her dresser’s mirror. She’d stroke her clit and wonder about that whip.

Many kind thanks to Artful Dodger at The Secret Brain for so perfectly capturing and reproducing the image I had in my mind's eye. You rock, Art!

"Snack Cart!"

2007-02-14T10:09:00.000-08:00

Happy Valentine's Day, y'all...

She squatted down to pick up something that had fallen and he was privy to an unexpected sight in her blouse. Two long, narrow bruises peeked out from the edge of her bra. As quickly as he’d seen them, she stood up. He took his muffin and a napkin and looked her in the eyes before he turned and walked away.

The bruises worked through his mind and he knew they were cane-made. The light-colored skin in the shape of the cane, surrounded by a burst of purple outline all the way around. Unmistakably a cane.

He glanced back at her over his shoulder as she pushed the cart down the hall. She was nondescript. She looked like every girl; one of those who disappear into the background. As he headed back to the project he’d been working on, he made a mental note to take a closer look later.

---

Later came and he took a bag of Chex Mix and a sugar cookie. He watched her carefully this time. She broke eye contact with him when she could. She seemed polite but shy. He engaged her in a bit of small talk and listened to her voice. Again, polite, but offering only minimal information. Answering his questions and nothing more. He scanned her body for other tell-tale signs but found none.

Several days passed with the same result. Her diverted eyes, shy demeanor. He just knew there was something there.

---

Friday afternoon was not letting up and he was in for a late night. He’d just stepped into the hallway and was looking over the options when one of the execs from upstairs approached. They chatted about a recent project he’d worked on while she took an apple from the cart. He waited there because he knew what was to come next. The woman turned and as she walked away, she bit into the apple. Looking at her ass was one of his favorite diversions at work. He watched the short black skirt move seductively to the end of the hall and only turned away as it rounded the corner.

When he looked back at the nondescript girl in front of him, he saw she’d been watching, too. Caught in the act, she blushed and looked down, straightening the items on the cart that didn’t really need to be straightened.

He smiled at her. “Nice view, wouldn’t you say?”

Her face reddened even more. “Umm… yes.” She mumbled.

He looked at the snacks and took a bag of Doritos and a brownie. The fruit bowl was almost empty.

“No bananas today?”

“I just ran out. Sorry.” She stammered the last word just a little.

He turned and went back to his office.

---

Monday morning rush. On his way from a meeting back to his office when he met the girl and her cart outside his office door. He couldn’t help but notice the short skirt she wore. It was markedly different than anything he remembered seeing. The slumpy look he’d seen last week left his mind completely. Thighs and ass greeted him as he got closer.

He said nothing and took a bagel and some jelly. As he turned away, she spoke.

“I saved you a banana.” She sounded uncertain.

He turned back to her and looked her in the eyes. There was a sparkle there. Shyness, for sure, but she was putting herself out there. He took the banana and touched her hand in the process.

“Thanks. Hey, I have a long meeting this afternoon and will be here late. If I’m not here when you come back by, be a dear and leave something on my desk for me?”

Without waiting for any acknowledgement at all, he turned and went into his office. She stood in front of the closed door for a moment before she moved down the hall. He smiled to himself.

Today's B... The Best Blowjob Ever

2007-02-12T15:06:00.000-08:00

I struggle with writing about blowjobs. I can't help but wonder if it's at all related to the fact that I suspect I could be giving better blowjobs. Someone once let me in on "the secret" of giving a great blowjob. I eagerly took notes (okay, mental notes) and thought about how to translate those thoughts into actions. Then when the opportunity next arose (no pun intended), I prepared myself mentally, armed with my "secret information." And well... let's just say I couldn't really tell what difference this new data yielded. Am I missing the point? I do wonder...

Sugasm #63 - Wow!

2007-01-23T08:41:00.000-08:00

Kind thanks to those of you who suggested my story for a spot in the top picks. I am thrilled!

The best of this weeks blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #63? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the linklist within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks
That sound (http://junohenry.wordpress.com)
All she wanted was a cold drink when she woke up (http://thebinside.blogspot.com)
Once, a long time ago (http://excessesofabasement.blogspot.com)

Mr. Sugasm Himself
Angelina Jolie’s Real Marvelous Breasts (http://sugarbank.com)

Editor’s Choice
What Really Really Sucks (http://alwaysarousedgirl.blogspot.com)

More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm

Erotic Writing and Experiences
Begging for it (http://dirtylittlecockslut.blogspot.com)
Cheerleading Camp (http://lostinperversion.com)
Chicago! (http://perverselypoly.blogspot.com)
Release (http://pick-up-pieces.blogspot.com)
Sex with D (http://plum001.blogspot.com)
Use Me Up (an RPG) (http://femmefataleteen.blogspot.com)
The Workout (http://eroticjournals.blogspot.com)

Sex and Politics
Michigan: Adultery Punishable By Life Behind Bars (http://smutandsteff.com)

Sex News, Reviews and Interviews
The Eroticism of Dance: Matthew Bourne’s ‘Swan Lake’ (http://adelehaze.com)
Interview with a Masturbator (http://masturbationblogs.blogspot.com)
Stunt Cock Casting Call (http://www.lovehoney.co.uk)
Ultime G-Spot Vibrator Review (http://stilettodiaries.blogspot.com)

Sex Work
Devoted Pets Learn To Adjust Their Lives For Princess (http://www.phonesexsub.com/brat_blog/)
My Wonderful Adult Life (http://www.model-chat.com)
Sexy Sausages And Scary STDs (http://radicalvixen.com/blog)

BDSM and Fetish
Canings for a good cause (http://pandorablake.blogspot.com)
Happy HNT - Spank me panties and threesome fun (http://darkside-journey.blogspot.com)
Is it Friday yet? (http://vanillaedge.wordpress.com)
Morning canings at school, re-visited (http://www.spankingwriters.com/blog)
No cane, no pain, no gain! (http://blog.sex-mad-witch.com)
Spanking the Monkey!! (http://theriverdalegoddess.typepad.com)
Yes Sir (http://www.suzanneportnoy.com)

Thoughts on Sex and Relationships
A Niners Tale For the Feminists (http://loladavid.wordpress.com)
Of My Untried Fantasies, and Many Other Thoughts (http://totalsensuality.blogspot.com)
Sestina for Zoe (http://sweatshopsissy.wordpress.com)
Thoughts on Monogamy (http://deliciously-naughty.typepad.com)

Spank Me panties courtesy of Journey to the Darkside.

All she wanted was a cold drink when she woke up

2007-01-16T13:41:00.000-08:00

87 degrees was the high. And she’d felt every bit of it. She scratched then rubbed her sunburned arm as she walked along the sidewalk, gazing at each windowsill as she passed by, looking for signs of creativity behind the heavy curtains with their backing that blocked all signs of the hot sun outside.

Ice would be good. A refrigerator would have been better, but she hadn’t thought of it. As she rounded the corner of the covered walkway, following the signs to Ice/Vending, she was dismayed to find an out of order sign.

If she was sleepwalking, this must be a dream. Or a nightmare. She walked back out from the covered area and looked at the closest building. It was pink and hard to miss. She set her sights on the inner core of this building, where the Ice/Vending would surely be functional, and headed off.

She glanced sleepily at the new windows she passed. Nothing caught her eye and when she reached the last window, she stared across the black space between buildings. It wasn’t far in the daylight. At night, it seemed eternal. She walked.

The windows she passed this time were a blur. Her eyes locked onto the Ice/Vending sign and she pleaded with the Ice Powers That Be that they had this machine in working order. In a haze of exhaustion she rounded the corner and saw the ice machine. It seemed to glow in the night with a bright blue-white aura around it.

She placed the bucket on the machine’s receptacle and pressed the button. A little spurt of ice dropped into the bucket. She looked into the bucket as she held the button down and listened to the machine make its ice dispensing noises. No ice came. The machine churned.

In desperation, she flung her other arm onto the front of the machine and laid her forehead against it, still holding the button. The machine churned.

When lips ever so softly kissed the back of her neck, she was somewhere in that state between asleep and awake. She wasn’t sure if there was anything there and she didn’t care. The lips made their way up her neck to her hairline and very gently kissed around to her ear. Nibbling the lobe at first, gently… very gently. Then with a sense of urgency, teeth softly took their place.

She moaned and felt the body press against hers from behind. A hand covered hers on the front of the machine and intertwined its fingers with hers. Another hand reached around her and found her nipple hard to the touch.

She gasped at this touch and arched backwards, feeling the body behind her. It was solid. It felt strong. Parts of it felt hard. The heat between them was suffocating. Her nipple was being pinched now and each pinch became harder and harder. She moaned.

She felt heat and pain in that stage of semi-sleep. Dreaming about the touch she was feeling. Feeling the touch she was dreaming of. And then the pinching stopped. It only took a moment for the heat to melt the ice cube enough for it to soak through her thin shirt. Her nipple burned and hardened more under the ice.

The fingers intertwined with hers squeezed her as the fingers holding the ice made circles on her breast, sending chills all over her body. Heat and cold battled on her skin’s surface. And she rode along with them. Hot breath in her ear made her shudder.

A clattering noise startled her back to reality and she pushed herself off of her arm and away from the machine. Several ice cubes had splattered to the floor as the bucket had filled and overflowed. She shook her head a little to clear it and wondered if she had actually fallen asleep on the ice machine.

She walked out of the little room with the Ice/Vending sign and headed back toward her building, a sea of purple that seemed to not get any closer as she walked through a cloud of pink.

Maybe it was the sun, she thought. She’d gotten too much sun and was having some kind of heat stroke. She walked along. A few more steps.

The bucket became heavy in her hand and she moved it from one hand to the other. As she did, her arm touched the still-cool wet spot that surrounded her nipple. And in the 80-degree weather, she got chills.

Google and Sex Blogs

2006-12-28T03:44:00.000-08:00

I ran across this interesting article about Sex Blogs disappearing from Google searches at boingboing.net. Check it out.

The article features commentary from Violet Blue and tangentially, her article about unsafe sex products.

Has anyone else noticed a change in their results in Google searches?

Just wondering.

ETA: Danny Sullivan at Search Engine Land has some great information on this in his post Of Disappearing Sex Blogs & Google Updates.

(Almost) Six Weird Things

2006-12-18T03:24:00.000-08:00

You know, lately I've been pretty scarce around here. If I were writing about my personal life, there'd be plenty here, but I'm not and there isn't. Suffice to say there are the beginnings of several new stories which I can hope will one day draw to a climax (snicker), but I'm not going to pressure myself.

Al Sensu over at Hard & Fast (and erotischism) tagged me with this one. Two weeks ago. Yes, I know. So without further ado, six weird things about me.

1. I hate to touch newspaper. I hate the way it feels. I hate the ink rubbing off. Hate the smell. Hate it. If my husband didn't pick up the freebie-papers that hit our driveway every week (and if they weren't in plastic bags), there'd just be a big mushy pile of soggy newspaper in my driveway. Very endearing to the neighbors, don't you think?

2. I can't sleep naked. I've never been able to. And I'm not talking about a gown here. I want something between my legs. (Go ahead, it's okay.) PJ pants. A t-shirt is fine as long as there are pants. Even in the summer.

3. I am a Disney freak. I love all things Disney. By my cipherin' I figure I've spent over 100 days in Disney Parks. I can spot a hidden Mickey in everyday objects and I know where to find PUSH. I'm excited just thinking about it.

4. Even numbers are good. Odd numbers are bad. Want to watch me get really frustrated? Take an odd number of eggs out of the carton and hand it to me.

5. I hate the circus. It's creepy and stressful.

6. Well, sadly after an hour of noodling on this, I can't come up with a 6th thing. Not that it doesn't exist, mind you. It's just not coming.

So there you have it. I'm not tagging anyone because I am obviously the last person on the interweb to have done this.

Happy holidays everyone.

Addicted

2006-11-23T06:20:00.000-08:00

To me you're like a growing addiction that I can't deny.

“You’re an addict.”

The words rolled calmly off his tongue. His eyes glistened. He was gauging my reaction. Wasn’t he?

“Your addictive behavior is counterproductive to the situation you say you want to achieve.”

Is he calling me out? Is he joking? His eyes gave nothing away.

Our relationship was still new. We were still finding the boundaries and give-and-take of a dominant and submissive relationship. It was a delicate journey across a tightwire and I tried not to look down as I proceeded slowly. I wanted to run. But I walked, placing each step deliberately. Logic governing emotion at each cautious step.

I took a sip of water because my mouth had gone dry.

“What do you mean?” I asked him, trying to mirror his tone.

“You say you want to serve me, yet your actions show you want to serve yourself.”

I blinked as my mind reeled, trying to see where this was going.

“I’m talking about your time. It’s like currency and you choose how to spend it. You choose trivialities rather than choosing to serve me.”

“Trivialities?” I thought to myself that I hadn’t played Trivial Pursuit in ages, but then pulled myself back to the here and now.

“You are addicted to this blog nonsense.”

I felt the heat grow in my cheeks.

“I’m not!”

As soon as the words left my lips, I regretted my tone.

“Oh, aren’t you?”

“No Sir.”

An attempted save that I hoped hadn’t swerved too far across the fine line. The honorific, up until that point, had only been used when he was spanking or whipping or caning or fucking me.

“Then show me. Stay away from that world for three weeks.”

Is it 21 days to make a new habit? Isn’t that what they say?

I blinked, looking into his eyes.

“Yes Sir.”

---

The next days seemed to drag on as I felt the aimlessness of my wandering. I started to wonder if maybe he was right. I challenged myself, not knowing if I could or would really do it. I wondered if he was being so blatant as to test me. I wouldn’t lose. He had become my adversary and I simply wouldn’t let him win.

At least not for 12 days. I was yearning to know what I’d been missing. A quick peek wouldn’t hurt. Right? A delicious sense of anticipation bubbled up inside me as I quickly skimmed. A fun crossword puzzle, the Sex Blogger Funnies, something new called Blog World. I know that you know… damn, that’s hot. The beach in Hawaii.

I even started to answer comments that kind, caring folks left on my now-silent blog. Privately, of course. I knew he would be checking. I made excuses. I told them I’d be back.

Day 15 arrived with an unexpected visit. He’d had plans to be out of town, but the meeting was cancelled and here he was on my sofa. I sat at his feet. He played with my hair as we watched a movie we’d both seen.

There was an undercurrent here. Just under the surface, but filling up the space around us.

“Bring me your laptop.”

Feeling guilty, I went to get it. Resentment quickly battled its way into my mind. Why has he made me choose? I knew exactly what would happen. He’d turn it on, then look at my browser’s history. It would all be there. Breadcrumbs leading the way.

I took my place at his feet again and waited an eternity.

“You are an addict. I knew you wouldn’t last. I knew you’d fail.”

I felt cold and steel-like as the feelings I’d started – tried – to develop for him retracted like a red carpet being rolled up. Logic, who had been my friend off and on throughout the past few weeks cried out loudly now. “Nip this right now!”

Clarity.

I stood up. I didn’t belong at his feet. And as the words rose inside me, they bypassed the decision-making part of my brain and headed straight for my lips. The decision-making part of my brain just stood there and waved at the words as they went by, encouraging them.

“I may be an addict, but you’re a dick.”

It wasn’t spiteful or hurtful. It was just the truth. The truth just sounds different.

He left then, without speaking another word.

I made myself a cup of hot chocolate and, feeling giddy again, sat down with my laptop to catch up.

Happy Delurk Day!

2006-11-03T05:04:00.000-08:00

And welcome to you all!

My friend Bonnie over at My Bottom Smarts had a great idea to invite the lurkers out there (you know who you are) to say hello. Post a comment. Leave some words of greeting. Introduce yourself. No commitments, no names (unless you just want to). If you've ever thought about commenting, but haven't, today's your day.

You are among like-minded folks here, so don't be shy. Your thoughts will be greatly appreciated.

So I'll start things off. Hi, I'm bella. I'm a scorpio. I like tacos and '71 cabernet. My favorite color is magenta.

Where in the hell am I?

2006-10-31T04:48:00.000-08:00

Well, it's Halloween. I love Halloween. I'm not thrilled to say that real life has been sucking the life out of me lately. And I had such a big ending planned for My Trick Your Treat. Right... maybe I can work it into a Thanksgiving or Christmas story. Maybe Arbor Day. I at least have candy for the little darlings and will greet them merrily tonight. No jack-o-lantern this year. No time.

So as I reflect on October and look forward to November, I anticipate a month with far less drama, less pain and more time to do things I want to do. That's my goal anyway.

Speaking of drama, have you seen this? More power to you, ladies.

2006-10-28T19:42:00.000-07:00

Snack Cart

Sugasm #51... Lips Like Sugar

2006-10-24T04:38:00.000-07:00

I'm thrilled to be included in this week's Sugasm!

The best of the sex blogs this week by the bloggers who blog them. Spotlighting the top 3 posts voted by Sugasmer participants. Want in Sugasm #52? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the linklist within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks
Tempting Decisions — a dialogue (http://junohenry.wordpress.com)
Petting Teacher (http://dirtydetails.blogspot.com)
D-Day for Dior (http://theholidaylife.blogspot.com)

Mr. Sugasm Himself
Porn Fatigue (http://sugarbank.com)

Editors’ Choice
F irst Taste (http://engrailed.com)

Join the Sugasm

Erotic Writing and Experiences
Ahh The Weekend - The Second Night (http://mandyseroticlife.blogspot.com)
Giving it my all (http://sexandtheivy.com)
I want you (http://sexcakes.blogspot.com)
Like Kids in a Candy Story Part II (http://www.taratainton.com)
Phone subbacultcha (http://pick-up-pieces.blogspot.com)
The Story of Fifteen (http://confessions112.blogspot.com)
There’s Something About A Blonde (http://makemycopcome.blogspot.com)
U wanan cybr? (http://finforhertograb.blogspot.com)

BDSM and Fetish
The First of a Trifecta (http://aliceinawonderbra.blogspot.com)
FuckFace!!! And other KINKY Fantasies of Mine…. (http://totalsensuality.blogspot.com)
A Great Session (http://radicalvixen.com/blog)
Halloween Costumes (http://www.caramelvixen.com)
Overdue (http://thebinside.blogspot.com)
‘She’s spanked, Jim’: Science Fiction & Fantasy in Spanking Films (http://adelehaze.com)
Spanking in space (http://www.spankingwriters.com)
Vancouver Ink (http://darkside-journey.blogspot.com)

Thoughts on Sex and Relationships
Bow, chicka chicka, wow (http://www.jessicagoldharalson.com)
Melanaise’s Specs (Da Bootyologist) (http://wetbeyondbelief.blogspot.com)
My top 5 (http://hard-and-fast.blogspot.com)
The Politics of Tease and Denial (http://fullfrontalpolitics.com)
Swinger vs. Poly: What Exactly IS Polyamory? Part 1 (http://perverselypoly.blogspot.com)
The Vibe Is Dead, Long Live The Vibe!! (http://talktovanessa.com)

NSFW Pics (& a video)
Casey Parker Poses For DDGirls (http://www.ddgirlsblog.com)
CockCuntblogging Wednesday 9 (http://shayssexcolumn.blogspot.com)
Emergency Boobs For The Sniggs (http://www.internetisforporn.com)
Erection Workout (http://myhotbox.blogspot.com)
Monica passes the phat booty test (http://phatbootysolos.ilovejulienight.com)
Natural Beauty (http://hotboxbabe.thumblogger.com)
ObsessionArt (http://eroticandy.blogspot.com)

Sex News and Sexy Reviews
Alt-Porn for Everyone! (http://sexualevolution.blogspot.com)
Fleshlight - first impressions (http://nakedcondo.blogspot.com)
NEW Kinky & Cultural/Political Designs Added! (http://www.tarasnaughtyshop.com)
Top 5 Pornos to Jerk Your Halloweenie To (http://blog.johnqafterhours.com)

Lust Life: Polyamory

2006-10-20T04:55:00.000-07:00

I ran across this article from the New York Press on Polyamory over at Stiletto Diaries.

Two good quotes:

"...not only is it more acceptable to cheat, it’s more acceptable to be gay than for a straight guy to have a wife and a girlfriend."

"You have to be willing to confront your fears and become a master of communication. 'It’s not just about multiple booty calls and doing whatever you want. It’s about agreements you make with your partners, honoring those agreements and having integrity in relationships."'

Overdue

2006-10-16T03:49:00.000-07:00

This was featured over at A Spanking Good Time in Tiggr's Fantasy Friday contest. I am thrilled and honored that Tiggr included this story.

My husband and I had moved to the neighborhood about 6 months ago and I joined the local tennis club. I discovered that the woman who lived across the street from us also played, and we became fast friends. I didn’t really know anyone in the area, so I easily slid into her circle of friends and joined in on lunches, trips to the mall and most recently, girls’ poker night.

We each took turns hosting poker night and they were a lot of fun. Wine flowed freely and conversation took on a “less polite and proper” tone. One night recently when we were all talking about our days, one of the girls mentioned having taken her car in for service. There was a collective sharp inhalation of breath that followed and I think someone kicked someone under the table. Furtive glances flew around the table.

I tried to keep a straight face and pretend I hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary.

A few days later, my neighbor stopped in on her way to run errands. “Look, I know you noticed the awkwardness at the poker table the other night. I’ve talked with the girls and we’ve decided that we want to share something with you.”

I listened with curiosity wondering what could possibly be secretive about an oil change.

“We all go to the same place for our car maintenance. It’s a bit unusual because it’s a place for women only and it’s based on referrals only. We’ve given them your name and a referral so you can take your car in when you need to. They work by appointment, so call first.”

She handed me a slip of paper with a name, address and phone number. I looked at it and didn’t know whether to be amused or baffled. I’d never made an appointment for an oil change before.

Of course my car was overdue for servicing. The move had been stressful and the car fell low on the priority list for me. I took this as a sign that I needed to get this off my To Do list, so I called to schedule an appointment. The woman who answered asked for my name and for the name of the person who referred me. Then she put me on hold. When she came back to the line, she confirmed a time and told me about their packages.

“We have two packages you can choose from. One is a 6-month package which would include your initial visit and two subsequent visits. The other is a 12-month package. We can give you pricing information when you come in.”

I wrote down the time and date and wondered if I was signing up for a gym membership or getting my car serviced.

When the time finally arrived, I left tennis practice and drove to the address I’d been given. I pulled into a warehouse looking building with several bays toward one end. There was no sign for the business – only their street number painted on the building by the door. I pulled in front of one of the bays and turned the motor off. As I got out of the car, the bay door began to rise and a dreamy-looking muscular guy walked out. He called me by name and took my keys from me. He nodded toward the door and told me to they were expecting me.

“Well, duh!” I thought. “You made me make an appointment!”

I walked into the building and was greeted by the same woman I’d talked to on the phone. She, too, greeted me by name and led me to a table where we both sat down.

“We’re a multi-service facility here and we know your time is valuable. Our aim is to help women not only keep their vehicles safe, but to offer other services as needed while your car is being serviced. We help you become more efficient and organized. We help you keep your priorities. We never want to see you stranded on the side of the road with your hood open.”

She smiled at me and I felt like I still wasn’t getting it. As I was about to ask her what she meant by “other services,” the door opened and dreamy-looking muscular guy came in looking a little disgusted. He held the plastic clingy thing he’d removed from my windshield and waved it around.

“927 miles overdue for an oil change,” he told smiling girl.

I looked from him to her and saw the expression on her face grown solemn.

“Oh my.”

She looked at me like I’d committed a huge faux pas. Dreamy-looking muscular guy disappeared through the same door he’d entered.

She picked up some papers from the table and stood up.

“This way please.”

I grabbed my bag and followed her down a hallway and into a room that looked like a den. It had a sofa and chair and was surrounded by bookcases. I wouldn’t have been any more surprised to find a rhinoceros in the room. She motioned toward the sofa and told me someone would be with me shortly. She closed the door on her way out.

And shortly, it was opened again. The man was of average height and looked to be about 45. Everything about him was average. His looks, his clothing… average. But something about him was not average.

He introduced himself and I recognized his name as the one I’d been given on the slip of paper. He must be the owner. He sat in the chair, giving him the advantage of being able to look down at me on the sofa.

“It’s a good thing you came in when you did. Your oil is dangerously low. Do you understand what that means?”

Feeling a bit like I was an 8th-grader having been called to the principal’s office, I responded meekly.

“No.”

“You could have broken down on the side of the road. You could have done serious damage to the engine resulting in costly repairs. This is just not a good situation.”

I swallowed hard.

“But we will rectify the situation. And we will get your car back in tip-top shape, too.”

He stood up and offered me his hand. I was too stunned to do anything but take it and he pulled me up. He led me to the end of the sofa and very matter-of-factly said, “Please bend over the arm of the sofa.”

I looked at him in horror.

“What?”

He met my glare with business-like calm.

“Over the arm of the sofa please.”

He placed his hand lightly on my back and guided me downward. I was too shocked to resist. When I situated myself over the arm of the sofa with my ass feeling fully exposed, he spoke again.

“927 miles overdue. That amount would usually require a severe punishment, but since this is your first time with us, that wouldn’t be right. So today your punishment will be 9 spanks – 1 for each hundred miles, give or take.”

Before I could even respond, fire exploded on my ass. He’d pulled my tennis skirt up and was hitting my ass through a couple of layers of cloth. It was harsh and it burned in rapid succession 9 times. I cried out and echoes of my cries filled the room.

He offered me a hand and helped me up. As we stood there, he explained, “This is your motivation to be prompt with us. We take care of our customers and we expect you to take care of yourselves as well. We will see you again in 3000 miles.”

And with a polite smile, he left the room.

My Trick, Your Treat - Part 2

2006-10-14T05:26:00.000-07:00

He looked around and found her perched lounging along the edge of the hot tub. She was a vision made from dreams. The latex started at her waist and encased her tightly down to her feet. The tail extended past her feet, making the illusion seem real. He started to walk toward her then, noticing more detail as he approached. Round, full breasts. Nipples and belly button adorned with matching rings. A single conch shell dangled playfully from a string tied around her neck. Her mask was of the minimal type and matched her fish body. He could tell, as he got closer, that the latex was not solid around her, but was open in the front and was held closed by buckles that extended the length of the costume. He wondered if the back looked the same. He noticed her little patch of pubic hair matched the mass of hair on her head. She dangled a finger lightly in the hot tub and watched him approach.

“Trick or Treat?” He felt slightly amused to speak the words.

“Your treat,” she replied.

He smiled then and nodded almost imperceptibly. He sat down beside her and gave her body another long look. His fingers first found their way to a nipple ring. He flicked it lightly back and forth then tugged gently on it, watching her eyes for a reaction. When he grabbed a fistful of her breast and squeezed, he got the reaction he wanted. He held on and when her moan became an open-mouthed gasp, he kissed her.

His hand left her breast and went to the back of her neck, pulling her deep into his kiss. When he released her and slowly pulled back, he saw a different look now… smoky, lustful. He worked his hand between the straps on her costume and in between her legs. She was wet. He moved along her wetness without entering her then removed his hand. He held it to her lips and she licked it clean.

He grabbed her other breast and squeezed it. Again she gasped and again he silenced her with a kiss. This time, he pushed her gently down and onto her back. His lips moved to her ear where he nibbled and gently sucked. She shuddered.

He moved onto her, on his knees straddling her and continued kissing and licking down her neck. She tasted faintly of salt.

He sat up and gazed down at her. “Some people say that eating the flesh of a mermaid will make them immortal.”

“Do they?”

“They do. And others say mermaids grant wishes.”

“And what do you believe?” she asked.

He smiled down at her with a gleam in his eye that was almost evil. In one seamless move, he drew his knee back over her and with his hands on her hips, pushed her, rolling her over. As she splashed into the hot tub, he noticed the back of her costume was indeed open and held together with buckles.

He watched her get her bearings and grab onto something to support herself while he started to unbutton his uniform. He was quickly naked and stepped into the hot tub leaving his hat on. He sat down on the edge and moved his knees apart, motioning her closer. When she was within reaching distance, he took her hand and pulled her closer. She kissed up his inner thigh as she was gently pulled between his knees.

He looked down at her, watching rivulets of water run down her neck and chest.

“I like the wishes version better.”

“And what is it you wish for?”

He replied in a voice that couldn’t have been more true to his character: “Well, blow me down, baby!”

They both laughed at the corniness of it and she pulled herself up to take his cock into her mouth. She took her time, dancing her tongue around the head and flicking it along the ridge teasingly. After a few minutes she saw his hands move to her head and noticed the anchors tattooed on his forearms. She knew what was coming. He grabbed her head and started to pump it up and down his length. He started off slowly but quickly changed the pace. He held her head hard against his pelvis with his head nudging her throat. He kept her there until she started to gag.

He pulled her head back, but not off of his cock. It was just long enough for her to catch her breath and he pumped her up and down again. He made her gag several more times, each time allowing her to catch her breath, but her mouth never left his cock.

He worked her lips quickly along the middle of his shaft and held her firmly in place as he exploded in her mouth. She moaned then and the vibration of the sound moved up his cock. He shuddered.

He released her head then and she looked up at him. He wanted to see her without the mask, but knew it was against the rules. Instead he pulled her in close and hugged her. She wrapped her arms around him too, and he leaned down to kiss her lips.

She giggled.

He smiled at her curiously. “What is it?”

“You taste like spinach.”

They both laughed and as he lifted her out of the hot tub, he said, “Now that’s just bad.”

She agreed, still laughing. He placed her back beside the hot tub.

As if on cue, two cell phones chimed a warning that their time was almost up. He dried himself off and got back into uniform.

When he was dressed, he knelt beside her and with his thumb wiped a droplet of water from her cheek, careful not to disturb the mask.

“Thank you for granting my wish.”

“You’re welcome. It’s your treat, right?”

Then it was her turn to grin devilishly. “You could have gone for the immortality.”

He laughed and kissed her lightly on the lips and as he stood, he took the corncob pipe from his pocket and perched it between his lips.

And in that perfect voice again, said “I yam what I yam and that’s all what I yam.”

She grinned and shook her head as he turned and left.

Polly and Marie

2006-10-13T04:20:00.000-07:00

Elizabeth over at Polypositivity.net posted about a dramedy portraying the love lives of a polyamorous couple. It's called Polly and Marie.

Read Elizabeth's post here.

See the trailer.

I was thinking the plot description sounded somewhat contrived to me, but after watching the trailer, I'd definitely give this show a whirl.

My Trick, Your Treat - Part 1

2006-10-09T18:41:00.000-07:00

He opened the door and tentatively walked into the hallway, turning to see the door pulled firmly shut behind him. It was his first time and he was a little nervous. He was excited, of course, but a little nervous at being new to the experience. He glanced at the display on his cell phone again and re-read the instructions there. He turned and began to walk down the hall, now seeing others joining him. He passed Captain Jack Sparrow. The pirate flashed a gold-toothed grin and winked as he ambled by. A redheaded nurse walked around the corner and he gazed lustily at her chest. They exchanged a knowing smile as they passed and he wondered what her room might be like. He hoped he found out.

He rounded the corner and saw Snow White knocking on the door of room 249. She smiled bashfully at him as she waited. He was hoping to catch a glimpse of her destination, but the door didn’t open until he’d walked past. As he approached the elevator, its doors opened with a ding and a garden gnome held the door open while Dorothy and her little dog, too, walked out. He noticed she was wearing ruby slippers and appreciated her attention to detail.

The garden gnome chuckled like a dirty old man as he followed Dorothy down the hall.

He entered the elevator and pressed the button. When he arrived at his destination, he exited the elevator and was a little surprised to see that he was alone. He walked down the hall, past the vending and ice machines. At the end of the hallway he spotted the fake palm tree. It was wrapped in white Christmas lights. He felt around in the moss covering the faux dirt in the pot and found the key card. He took a breath and inserted it into the lock. The little red light flashed.

He cursed under his breath, withdrew the card and turned it around. This time when he inserted it, the little light illuminated in a solid green. He pulled the key out, turned the handle and walked into the room. He knew everyone had their own unique setting, but he hadn’t expected this at all.

He found himself standing in front of the swimming pool.

Today's B is for...

2006-10-02T19:00:00.000-07:00

Buried - I've been mired in the muck of real life lately and have missed the creative outlet of writing here in the blogosphere. Not to fear, though. I will be back.

Bewildered - Just when you are minding your own business and least expecting it, something happens that just blows your mind. It's been that kind of week for me.

Beat - Sleep is good.

Sugasm #48

2006-09-27T03:14:00.000-07:00

The best of the sex blogs this week by the bloggers who blog them. Spotlighting the top 3 posts voted by Sugasmer participants. Want in Sugasm #49? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the linklist within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks
The Luckiest Girl in the World (http://alwaysarousedgirl.blogspot.com)
“Would he have the energy, the stamina, to make me come as much as I need to come?”

I Want To Shave You (http://makemycopcome.blogspot.com)
“That luscious plum, that erotic ridge around it, the enticing veins tracing their way up that cock I am so engrossed in…”

The Rum Raisin Compromise (http://talktovanessa.com)
“My husband did not understand why I couldn’t live the rest of my life without the taste of a woman passing my lips.”

Mr. Sugasm Himself
How to Give Away Porn (http://sugarbank.com)

Editors’ Choice
Rope Bondage Images (http://www.lumpesse.com)

More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm

Sexy Audio & Video
Hear My Name (http://anawtymouz.blogspot.com)
How to Give a Blowjob in a Car (http://myhotbox.blogspot.com)
Sex Inspiration, Study & Dream - Video Blog Entry (http://www.seska4lovers.com)
Slave Girl: Part One (http://fuckingtheministersdaughter.blogspot.com)

Sex News and Sexy Reviews
Craigslist User Publicizes Private Correspondence (http://www.tarasnaughtyshop.com/blog)
Do Video Games Effect Our Sex Lives? (Survey) (http://sugarjoy.com)
The Five Best Tera Patrick Scenes of All Time (http://blog.johnqafterhours.com)
Inflatable Vibrating Penis (http://www.orgasmarmy.com)
Tire Paddle HNT (http://radicalvixen.com/blog)

NSFW Pics
Adela & Susana (http://hotboxbabe.thumblogger.com)
Ass Masterpiece (http://www.internetisforporn.com)
Consolation Eye Candy, or What a Wild, Wild Month! (http://totalsensuality.blogspot.com)
Featured DDGirls Covergirl Sunny Leone (http://www.ddgirlsblog.com)
Put on a Shirt HNT (http://texasspitfire.blogspot.com)
Roxy in booty shorts (http://phatbootysolos.ilovejulienight.com)
Two Bad Girls in a Prison Bed (http://adelehaze.com)
WebMistress Feature Gallery: Scenic Silver Reef (http://www.taratainton.com)

Thoughts on Sex and Relationships
Adult Webcam Humor (http://www.model-chat.com)
Boobies (http://edinerotica.blogspot.com)
Erotic Rather Than Fucking (http://orgasmcurious.blogspot.com)
Phain’s Tasty Specs… (http://wetbeyondbelief.blogspot.com)
Science of Sex - Sense of Smell (http://www.seskuality.com)
Sex Goddess??? (http://thegooseandgander.blogspot.com)
“Three sex acts enter, one sex act leaves.” (http://sexeteria.blogspot.com)
The Vagina and the Douche (http://shayssexcolumn.blogspot.com)

Erotic Writing and Experiences
2. Greet (http://junohenry.wordpress.com)
Dreaming of a Dark Odyssey (http://viviane212.blogspot.com)
The Eternal Hotness of Hanna (http://theholidaylife.blogspot.com)
Get Caught Looking now! (http://lustylady.blogspot.com)
My Taxicab Confession (http://dirtydetails.blogspot.com)
Room 304, Part I (http://www.chillivanilla.com/blg)
Teresa (http://nyc-urban-gypsy.blogspot.com)

BDSM and Fetish
Happy HNT-Cheerleader Paddling (http://darkside-journey.blogspot.com)
Lions, Tigers, and Spankings! Oh my! (http://spankingkatiespades.blogspot.com)
A Long Awaited Erotic Very Sexy Spanking Session… Finally (http://lizzietush.blogspot.com)
Melinda Makes a Discovery… (http://www.blog.sex-mad-witch.com)
Pajama Party (http://thebinside.blogspot.com)
She was like a wild animal… (http://everythingoze.blogspot.com)
Switching My Bottom On (http://spankingwriters.com/blog)

Pajama Party

2006-09-19T19:01:00.000-07:00

Here's a little tidbit about Devil's pajama party. Lestat also shared some of his experiences from the start of evening.

My drink was empty and I really had to pee. So now that the coast was clear, I crawled out from under the desk and saw Karl Elvis mixing a fresh batch of drinks. Bless this man, the stoker of my fire. He mixed me another shot of fuel and telling him I’d be right back, I wandered off to find the bathroom. What was it, exactly, that made these drinks blue, yet taste like orange? There was enough of a distraction going on elsewhere in the room that I could slip away unnoticed. But could I look away from the distractions long enough to slip away?

I closed the door and flipped on the light. Decisions, decisions. I set my sights on the one on the right and headed that way. My heels click-clacked loudly on the tile floor. I slid my bottoms down and sat, sighing in relief, noticing how even this sounded funny in this vast room.

As I was standing and pulling my bottoms up, the door opened. I gasped at being caught in the act, so to speak. Karl walked in with another blue drink and closed the door behind him. The expression on his face was as if he walked in on a woman in the bathroom frequently. I felt heat rise on my face and didn’t have to look in the mirror to know my cheeks were flushed a bright red.

He put the drink down between the sinks and turned his back to it, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed in front of him. Our eyes met and as I walked toward him, I turned my foot and stumbled.

"Too much to drink or not used to wearing heels?" He asked.

"The tile is slippery." It sounded reasonable.

I paused as I neared him and wondered what Ms. Manners suggests in this particular scenario. I heard a squeal from the other room and shifted my gaze to the door and then back to him. He stood there, face expressionless and eyes animated, not saying a word.

I started to reach around him to grab the drink, suddenly needing it pretty badly. He grabbed my arm midway between my wrist and elbow.

"Have you washed your hands?"

My eyes widened. "Not yet."

"You weren’t going to touch that drink with dirty hands, were you, dirty girl?"

I glanced in the mirror and saw embarrassment send another wave of crimson over my cheeks.

"No."

"Then what were you reaching for?"

"Yes."

"Yes… That’s what I thought."

He turned and pulled me along to the sink.

"Wash your hands."

I could have crawled right under the vanity and died. But I washed my hands. I did it slowly and methodically, adjusting the water temperature and watching closely while I scrubbed vigorously. I was prolonging what was coming next. I looked up and saw him behind me now, close to the tub, but watching me.

I turned the water off and grabbed a fluffy blue towel. When my hands were dry, I reached for the glass.

"I don’t think so. Not without some correction first."

I swallowed hard, turned around, and looked up at him.

"Wha…?"

Before I could get the word out of my mouth, he was speaking again. "On your knees and bend over the tub. And lose the lingerie."

I stood there somewhat stunned.

His next words jolted me into action.

"Lose it your way or lose it mine."

I stepped out of the tap pants and lifted the cami over my head. He tossed a towel onto the floor and I knelt there, bending over the tub, like a good girl. The porcelain was cold and my nipples stiffened. I really needed that drink.

His hand lightly grazed my ass and I shivered. He rubbed a circle on one cheek then popped me hard. The heavy ring he wore felt like lightening every time he hit me, and they kept coming in rapid fire, moving from cheek to cheek. The echo was maddening. My moans escalated into a throaty cry and suddenly there was silence.

"Get up."

I pushed myself to my feet shakily and turned toward him, my eyes searching to see just what was going on. Was it an invitation? Was it a challenge? Did he know he’d made me dripping wet? But his eyes gave nothing away. He shifted his glance downward and behind me.

"Look."

He nodded toward the mirror and I looked over my shoulder to see my bright red ass. Just seeing it made it burn intensely and I shivered again. I looked back at him.

"Now you can have that drink…"

I stepped to the other side of the bathroom and picked it up. Our eyes met again in the mirror and I took a long sip while he continued.

"But your pretty blue lingerie stays in here."

He opened the door then and stood back while I walked through it.

Like Devil said, none of the characters in this story knew what I was up to here. It's fiction.

This is part of a multi-authored group of stories about the party. For more reading pleasure, see Devil's Pajama Party.

Weekend Plans

2006-09-15T15:22:00.000-07:00

I'm going to a pajama party! You can read all about it at Devil's. And yes, red is my color of choice when it comes to thongs.

Tales From Under The Desk, Epilogue

2006-09-15T12:41:00.000-07:00

See the sidebar for previous Tales.

It’s been a few days since Operation Desk Job and looking back on it, I realize how hot it really was.

Steven returned to Eric’s office after he’d escorted me from the building and told him about his boss coming in. He said he was watching us on one monitor and almost missed his boss entering the building on another monitor. He described it as a "very close call," and apologized for the scare. I know Eric was relieved, but I think some of that stress he was feeling during that 10 minutes before Steven got back to him will reveal itself to my ass the next time we’re together.

Steven also dropped a videotape by Eric’s office later in the evening. He delivered it with a knowing grin and didn’t speak a word. Eric says he hasn’t watched it yet, but plans on having the debut the next time we are together. I’ve discovered that Steven has his own way of keeping things exciting, but the thought of us having been recorded makes me feel a little uneasy.

Jackie raved about the sex she and Steven had when he got home from work that night. She practically gushed about it. Steven apparently described the events he watched in detail and the spice this added was apparently quite hot. The specifics she repeated made me blush.

Eric told me that other than cleaning them up, I am not to touch either of the items in the pizza box until we are together again. I am to wear the same outfit I wore that night and I am not allowed to make myself cum until then. So while the desk part of the game is over, things are definitely still in play. I can only imagine what will come next.

Images are from The Stockroom.

Tales From Under The Desk, Part 13

2006-09-14T06:19:00.000-07:00

See the sidebar for earlier Tales.

I heard the door close behind me and Steven led me down the hall.

“What are you doing? You’ve scared the shit out of him.”

He looked at me coolly. “It’s a security issue.”

I swallowed hard, not quite knowing what to think. Surely Steven wouldn’t have gone to this trouble if there was a chance of us getting caught. We’d talked about that at length. I’m a pretty good judge of people and he didn’t seem like the type to turn on me.

He led me back to the office where I’d stored my bag and I grabbed it out of the desk drawer. He said nothing else as we rode the elevator back to the ground floor. He walked me past the security desk and out the door.

Thoughts of security cameras and Eric losing his job and Steven getting in trouble crowded my mind.

When we got to my car, he reached took the visitor’s badge off my blouse. Finally he busted out in laughter. I was shocked and angry and on some level, amused to see him laugh so heartily.

“What the fuck is going on?!”

He finally stopped laughing at looked at me. “My boss was walking into the building and I needed to get you out of there and away from the security cameras quickly.”

“Why didn’t you just say that, Steven? Eric’s probably up there thinking he’s going to lose his job.”

“I know. Let me get back in there so I can put his mind at ease. Drive safe. Jackie will touch base so we can get together soon.”

All I could do was mumble a confused “thank you” as Steven kissed my cheek then turned and walked swiftly back into the building.

I put the pizza box on the seat next to me and drove home feeling somewhat nervous.

Sugasm #46 - It's Sweet!

2006-09-12T13:29:00.000-07:00

The best of the sex blogs this week by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts voted by Sugasmer participants. Want in Sugasm #47? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the linklist within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks
Body Image & Sex Work (http://lipstickexplosion.com)
“Then, I thought about myself in that playspace, obsessing over how to present my body, while the client, evidently, was enthralled.”

The Fever is Real (http://theholidaylife.blogspot.com)
“This was Dior’s way to lay down the gauntlet for Matthew… ‘I’m ready. I’m hot. I’m panting with desire. I’m gorgeous and sexy - come fuck me.’”

Just What You’re Missing (http://sabrinainstockings.com)
“That’s when I lean forward and kiss along your jawline… slow hungry pressings of soft lips and hot breath with just the barest hint of tongue.”

Mr. Sugasm Himself
Book Review: ‘Fresh: Girls of Seduction’ by Dave Naz (http://sugarbank.com)

Editors’ Choice
Having Myself All to Myself (http://www.TaraTainton.com)

More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm

Thoughts on Sex and Relationships
Second Week Without a Functional Computer Of My Own….. (http://totalsensuality.blogspot.com)
Where are the manners? (http://cuntinglinguist.blogspot.com)
Would you sleep with a virgin? (http://edinerotica.blogspot.com)

Sex Work
Panty Tree (http://radicalvixen.com/blog)

Sex News and Sexy Reviews
Clone A Willy Moulding Vibrator Kit (http://www.orgasmarmy.com)
The Man With Two Penises (http://www.quirkysex.com/blog)
Sex Toy Designer Spotlight: Lelo Interview (http://sultry.naughtyblog.net)
The Three Best Girl-on-Girl Pornos of All Time (http://blog.johnqafterhours.com)

Erotic Writing and Experiences
Back in His Arms (http://designingintimacy.blogspot.com)
Fare Amore (http://confessions112.blogspot.com)
Grrl’s Night Out (http://xantasia.blogspot.com)
Guest blogger: “Dessert” (http://emergingontheotherside.blogspot.com)
How we spent our Anniversary! (http://dontwakethekids.blogspot.com)
Just for the taste of her…(part one) (http://dirtydetails.blogspot.com)
The long hard weekend f*ck (http://dirtyandthirty.blogspot.com)
More Hot Wife Memories (http://marriedtoahotwife.blogspot.com/)
Need (http://www.kingdomofmean.com/sheets/)
Shower in the shower (http://solostories.blogspot.com)

NSFW Pics
Blonde Bombshell Jurgita Valts (http://www.thesexbox.com/blog)
Cowgirl HNT (http://texasspitfire.blogspot.com)
Gauge (http://www.internetisforporn.com)
Half-Nekkid in the Bible Belt (http://www.TarasNaughtyShop.com)
Happy naughty panties HNT! (http://darkside-journey.blogspot.com)
Sexy upskirt in kitchen (http://upskirtr.blogspot.com)

BDSM and Fetish
Back School, Back To Books, Back to “SchoolGirls’” Dirty Looks (http://shayssexcolumn.blogspot.com)
Dishonourable discharge (http://assistantmistress.blogspot.com)
Fiction: Grocery Dom (http://erotiterrorist.blogspot.com)
How to make her body betray her… (http://everythingoze.blogspot.com)
On Shade45 With DJ Whoo Kid and Crew (http://www.caramelvixen.com/vixen-blog)
Playing hookie (http://redvelvetropeburn.com)
Sassy me (and domesticity) (http://aliferestarted.blogspot.com)
Spanking and Brass Bands (http://www.spankingwriters.com)
Tales From Under The Desk, Part 11 (http://thebinside.blogspot.com)

Tales From Under The Desk, Part 12

2006-09-11T07:53:00.000-07:00

See the sidebar for earlier Tales.

"Swallow."

I did so happily and his cum tasted sweet; not at all bitter or salty. He groaned then and it sounded like a groan of satisfaction. I was practically dripping and had a sneaking suspicion there would be no "good hard fuck" for me tonight.

"Get up."

I rose unsteadily to my feet and bent my legs to get blood flowing back around my knees. They hurt, but not as badly as the aches in my breasts and my ass.

As he turned me around and pushed on my back, he told me to bend over the desk. I heard some movement, followed by the sound of his zipper. Then his mouth was at my ear again, whispering.

"So what was that you were wanting?"

"You to fuck me." I whispered back.

"Do you?"

"Yes Sir."

"You’ll just have to wait for that."

I whimpered and rolled my head so that my forehead rested on the desk.

He stood up and his hand grasped the thing in my ass. I hissed and my body tensed up.

"Relax." He said it soothingly and he started to pull. Again my fingers clutched the edge of the desk as the pressure grew. I moaned and squeezed my eyes shut while the reaction to the pain fought with the need to relax. And then it was out of me.

I heard the pizza boxes being rustled and knew he’d put the thing back in the box.
He gave me one light swat on the ass and it sent another wave of pain through me.

"Get dressed."

I pushed up off the desk and turned to see him putting his socks on. After much planning and anticipation, Operation Desk Job was drawing to a close. And I needed to cum really badly.

I squatted down to retrieve my blouse and bra from the dark corner under the desk. My bra was on and I was buttoning my blouse while he tied his shoes. The visitor’s badge was still clipped to the hem of my blouse. I straightened my stockings.

Eric picked up one of the pizza boxes and handed it to me. I didn’t have to open it to tell what it had inside.
He pulled me to him and kissed me.

"I’ll walk you out."

We both turned to the door when it opened and Steven walked in, looking somewhat stern. He looked from me to Eric and back to me.

"It’s time for you to go."

Steven was full of surprises because this wasn’t part of the plan either. I was completely taken aback and started to stammer to get the words – any words - out. I turned to Eric and saw that he was looking a little pale.

Steven moved to where I stood and lightly took my arm. He moved to the door pulling me along just a little more roughly than was necessary. He opened the door and pushed me through it. Still holding onto my arm, we both turned to look back at Eric who was white as a sheet now.

"Please stay in your office until I return."

Tales From Under The Desk, Part 11

2006-09-07T10:32:00.000-07:00

See the sidebar for earlier Tales.

No words came. A swat to my ass came though, and it was followed by many more. He spanked me hard and my ass burned. Every spank felt like it drove the steel deeper inside me. A tear dripped from my cheek onto a piece of paper on his desk.

It took a minute for me to realize that it had stopped. I heard only my quiet sobs and ragged breaths. I strained to hear something – anything that let me know where he was. The silence was eerie.

"Stand up." The words were spoken so softly I wasn’t sure I’d heard them.

"Now!"

I heard that very clearly and pushed myself up from the desk. I stood there facing away from him; my eyes focussed on the door and I again wondered who might have been watching. It could have been the whole office at this point. The thought left me as quickly as it resurfaced.

"Turn around."

I turned to face him and saw his cock. I love his cock. A drop of moisture glistened there and I moaned softly, already tasting it in my mind. My eyes pleaded with him once again. He nodded this time and I was on my knees between his legs in an instant.

My tongue snaked out and licked the sweet spot just below his head, then slowly up to the drop of nectar. I deliberately circled my tongue around him, playing along the edge… teasing. As my lips finally wrapped greedily around him, he grabbed my head and pounded it up and down, impaling my mouth. His cock hit the back of my throat and he held me there until I started to gag.

He released his grip and I moved back to suck and lick his head and catch my breath. Swirling my tongue around the head and up to the magic spot for another drop, I looked up at him. His eyes said it all.

I moved my mouth down him again, and kept going, taking him further inside me. I held him there for as long as I could and gasped for breath when I pulled back. After a few deep breaths, I again tried to get his cock down my throat. Again and again I fought panic and the need to gag and breathed only when I had to. This is what he liked and I knew it.

He grabbed a handful of my hair and followed it as my mouth moved up and down him. He controlled my movements now, but not with his hand.

"Good girl."

He said it when I looked up at him during one of my journeys back up to breathe. A tear dripped from my cheek onto his cock and I tasted its saltiness as I descended again.

His grasp tightened in my hair and he moved my head faster again, roughly forcing my mouth up and down his shaft. I anticipated his movements and tried to move with them. Then he held me firmly with my lips just underneath his head. I felt it swell just before my mouth was filled with pulse after pulse of his cum. The moans I heard were my own.

He continued to hold me firmly by my hair and finally pulled me up toward him, my face turned upward.

"Show me."

I opened my swollen lips carefully, not wanting to spill a drop, and I showed him.

Sugasm #45

2006-09-05T16:32:00.000-07:00

More great reading this week! I'm thrilled to be included again.

The best of the sex blogs this week by the bloggers who blog them. Spotlighting the top 3 posts voted by Sugasmer participants. Want in Sugasm #46? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the linklist within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks
Foreplaying pool (http://gentlygently.blogspot.com)
‘What say we make this interesting,’ I began while circling the table looking at the available shots, ‘If I win, I get a kiss.’

All Tied up (part 6): The End (http://dirtyandthirty.blogspot.com)
To cut a very long story short (well, not quite that short), the evening finished with me cumming all over Thirty’s beautiful body.

Tableau of sensuality (http://junohenry.wordpress.com)
Use your other hand to explore further South… tickle that sensitive area around my navel… stroke the silkiness a little further below… and then you’ll find that silky soon becomes slick, plump and moist.

Mr. Sugasm Himself
Fred Wilson, Venture Capital and Pornography (http://sugarbank.com)

Editors’ Choice
Sexbit - Fundraiser (http://www.seskuality.com)

More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm

BDSM and Fetish
Caught: Domination (http://femmefataleteen.blogspot.com)
Help Me Clay Aiken! (http://designingintimacy.blogspot.com)
Isabella’s Eyes - Part VII (http://nyc-urban-gypsy.blogspot.com)
On the Spanking Menu (http://spankingwriters.com/blog)
Slave Positions (http://www.alternativealbany.com)
Sunday Confessional (http://sabrinainstockings.com)
Tales From Under The Desk, Part 8 (http://thebinside.blogspot.com)

NSFW Pics
Happy HNT-Hawaiian Memories and an announcement! (http://darkside-journey.blogspot.com)
The Intruder (http://www.internetisforporn.com)
Teeny Tiny Plus Big ‘n Hard = Hot (http://shayssexcolumn.blogspot.com)
Why Does This Turn Me On? (http://sugarjoy.com)

Thoughts on Sex and Relationships
Instructive desire (http://lumpesse.com)
Living Without My Computer Temporarily….. (http://totalsensuality.blogspot.com)
Not a total bitch (http://lustylady.blogspot.com)
RANT: God’s Asked Me to Whale On Yo Ass, MoFo! (http://cuntinglinguist.blogspot.com)

Erotic Writing and Experiences
The Day Wank (http://wanklog.blogspot.com)
Details… (http://dontwakethekids.blogspot.com)
Disclosure (http://erotischism.blogspot.com)
How I got hooked (http://slickerywhenwet.blogspot.com)
I Want… (http://www.kingdomofmean.com/sheets)
On the Other Side of the Green Door Part IV (http://www.taratainton.com)
Role Playing #4: Porn Film Shoot (http://confessions112.blogspot.com)
Saturday Night (http://suddenslip.blogspot.com)
Seduced by the Goddess (http://fuckingtheministersdaughter.blogspot.com)
Splash! (http://penguinsinhiding.blogspot.com)
Their First Time (http://ellabeecoquette.blogspot.com)
Watch (http://pick-up-pieces.blogspot.com)

Sex News and Sexy Reviews
Free Shipping Offer Extended! (http://www.tarasnaughtyshop.com)
Orgasm Army Sex Toys Review - Candy Bra (http://orgasmarmy.com/blog.aspx)
Pressuring Hotels to Censor Porn (http://radicalvixen.com/blog)
Straight Porn Review: Stick it in Deep (http://blog.johnqafterhours.com)
We Didn’t Get the Party Boat (http://blog.babeland.com)

Sex Work
A Virtual Voyeur? (http://principalquattrano.com)
In Theory: The Dissection of the Allowance of Respect and Whether Erotica Models are Deserving of Such. (http://damnjezebel.com/diary)
Webmaster Partying (http://www.seska4lovers.com)

Tales From Under The Desk, Part 10

2006-09-01T23:58:00.000-07:00

See the sidebar for earlier Tales.

Balanced on my knees and forehead, my ass was now completely exposed. The cord attached to the hardness inside me seemed to cut into my skin. The waistband of my skirt was being pulled downward, and I flexed my abdominal muscles to try to get a little relief from the pressure.

He actually did some work. I admired his self-restraint before my mind went back into altered reality where minutes are hours. Some time later, I felt him tug gently on the cord and say, "Come here." Even the slightest pressure on the plug sent waves of pain through me.

I lifted my head and scooted out from under the desk. I fought the wave of dizziness but it was worse this time. He held on to me until it passed. I moved back between his thighs and he looked at the outline of his hand that now brightly colored my breast. He traced along the handprint with a finger. I couldn’t keep my eyes off the bulge in his pants.

He cupped my other breast and squeezed it hard enough to make me whimper. Half-closed from the pain, my eyes looked up into his. He brought his hand down hard and the sound of it seemed to fill the room.

While the sound still rang in my ears and the pain coursed through me, he slapped my face. I was stunned. A host of emotions ran through me before I’d even turned my head back to face him. Shock and fear and anger and a deeper feeling of submission all mingled furiously in my mind. Before I could focus my eyes on him, he was taking my hand.

"Up."

In a blur, I was up, spun around and pushed down onto the desk. He smacked the inside of my thigh and I moved my legs apart, opening to him. My ass was a perfect target for him now. I gripped the edge of the desk again and held on while he untied the cord from around my bunched-up skirt. I loosened my grip and exhaled in relief when the pressure in my ass eased up. Then I felt movement of the plug itself. He must have been untying the cord from the plug then. The movement made the thing seem to grow inside me and I arched to stretch my ass up toward him.

He leaned down over me and placed his lips close to my ear. "Do you need a good hard fuck?"

"Yes Sir," I said almost under my breath.

"You want me pounding into you? Is that it?"

"Yes, Sir."

I could almost feel his cock inside me and I thrust my hips upward and against him, my craving obvious. He stood up then and in one movement, shoved two fingers deep inside me. Immediately he pulled them out, leaving me painfully empty. He brought his hand to my mouth and I licked and cleaned my wetness from his fingers.

"Good girl."

I heard him sit back down. Then I heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper. Fighting the urge to turn around, I waited for his words.

Tales From Under The Desk, Part 9

2006-08-31T07:11:00.000-07:00

Read the beginning... see the sidebar for earlier tales.

I waited for minutes or hours. It must have been minutes, but the time has a way of altering itself in this position. My fear of being discovered seemed to amplify without him in the room. Thoughts of someone coming in and finding me in this position, partially naked, with a cord disappearing under my skirt made my stomach churn. The thought of getting up and at least putting my blouse back on crossed my mind briefly. But no, I couldn’t. He’d know if I’d even sat up. I just knew that he’d know.

The door opened and I held my breath. As he came around the desk and sat down, he spoke in a soft tone, "Good girl." It was almost a purr and it gave me chills.

"Sit up."

I moved my hands to my side and pushed up slowly to try and avoid the lightheadedness I knew would come. He tugged on the cord, drawing me closer to him. He handed me an open bottle of water and I took a long drink. It was ice cold. Taking the bottle back from me, he moved it first to one nipple, then the other. They stiffened in reaction and the coldness in my breasts tugged on the heat in my cunt; hot and cold met and mingled deep inside me.

He rolled away from me then and I heard the pizza box moving. My mind raced to figure out what would be next.

When he rolled his chair back, he had a slice of pizza in his hand. I couldn’t help but smile. He held it to my mouth and I took a bite. Even lukewarm it was excellent. So I knelt between his legs and he ate pizza.

When he’d finished, he took another bottle of water and placed it against my sore nipples once again. He rolled the hardness between his finger and thumb, twisting, pulling, and pinching. His eyes measured mine when he pinched hard and I held his gaze and moaned with each pinch.

He cupped my left breast with one hand and with the other, slapped it hard. I saw that bright light of pain in my mind’s eye and cried out. His finger was on my lips immediately, shushing me. He gently ran his fingers over the reddening handprint that was forming. I tried to steady myself for the next one, but it didn’t come.

"Back under the desk and down."

The word jolted me into action and I moved, positioning my body so that it was parallel with the desk and scooting underneath it.

He tugged on the cord again and the plug felt huge inside me. I heard him get out of the chair and felt his hand on my thigh. He took both of my hands by the wrist and moved them further up my back, off the fabric of my skirt and onto my bare skin.

He pulled the hem of my skirt up to the waistband and worked the end of the cord underneath it. He wrapped it around the bunched up part of the skirt and pulled the cord tightly. I gasped when he pulled it taut and my hips arched upward trying to accommodate the pain. He tied the cord off somehow so that the pressure was constant. I clenched around the thing, holding it in.

He saw the muscles in my ass tense up and he spanked each cheek hard. I bit my lip and tried to fight the whimper that rose from inside me.

I heard him sit back down and roll his chair around. Then I heard only my breathing and the unmistakable sounds of typing on a keyboard.

Tales From Under The Desk, Part 8

2006-08-29T06:57:00.000-07:00

I felt a gentle tug on it; kind of tentative at first. That was followed by a more pronounced yank. The feeling was different… and mixed with the heat in my ass cheeks, I couldn’t quite place it. I didn’t have much time to think about it.

"Turn around."

As I turned to face him, I looked down and saw what looked like an electrical cord or cable in his hand. The other end disappeared under my skirt, wrapped around my hip and was obviously attached to points behind me. He tugged on it gently and again that solidity inside me forced me to move with it. I realized he’d created a collar and leash, just not in the traditional style.

"On your knees." He said it softly.

I dropped to my knees as fluidly as I could. I felt a sense of dread that there wouldn’t be enough slack in the cord to prevent the thing from being painfully yanked from inside me by the force of my own movement. Nothing was yanked, though and when I was situated on my knees in front of him, he tugged the cord a little, pulling me toward him, between his legs.

I rested my arms on his thighs and from this position, I had to truly look up to meet his gaze. As our eyes met, he reached behind me with one hand and grabbed a fistful of my hair. He pulled down on it until my arched back and neck would go no further. My mouth was opened wide and gasping. His lips played lightly over mine. It was an almost-kiss; one that I absolutely had to have and one that I had to move my lips toward his to achieve. This caused extreme pain from the fistful of my hair that he wasn’t letting up on. I could kiss him, but not without subjecting myself to a new level of pain.

The need and the pain battled it out, each one taking a turn until I could stand it no longer and the other took over. Then I felt the thing inside me being pulled again. My hips moved backwards trying to accommodate the movement and at the same time, making the arch in the rest of my body more painful. He lightly traced his tongue around my lips. I couldn’t move.

He pulled away from my mouth and looked into my eyes, still grasping my hair and keeping steady pressure on the cord. There was that connection again… the power and the passion and the knowing that our eyes conveyed to one another.

The phone rang.

His gaze remained on me as he let go of my hair and gave the cord some slack.

He rolled away from me a little and answered the phone. I rolled my head and shoulders around a little, working the pain out of my neck and back.

I listened while he talked about some work he was doing, silently awed that he could sound perfectly normal in this situation. He hung up the phone and looked at me again. He moved one hand to my nipple and pinched hard, reawakening the pain that had started to dull. He moved to the other nipple and pinched it hard, too. He seemed amused by my gasps.

"Down."

I quickly lowered my forehead to the floor and clasped my hands behind my back. "Down" was a position that he’d taught me early on and one that resulted in many a striped ass from me not executing it quickly enough.

I heard him get up and move around, opening and closing a drawer. Then he walked to the door. I heard the whoosh and he was gone.

Sugasm #44 - And many thanks!

2006-08-29T05:18:00.000-07:00

Wow. I am honored to be in the top three this week. Thank you for reading, for your kind comments and feedback, and for voting.

Sugasm #44

This week’s best of the sex blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Featuring the top 3 posts voted by Sugasmer participants. Want in Sugasm #45? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the linklist within a week and you’re all set.

Top Voted Posts
How To Win An Erotic Fiction Competition (http://www.msnaughty.com)
Tales From Under The Desk, Part 7 (http://thebinside.blogspot.com)
Turning Point (http://masterenigma.blogspot.com)

Mr. Sugasm Himself
Nearly Nude Modeling and the Paedophile Problem (http://sugarbank.com)

Random Selection
Polyamorous? Or just plain selfish? (http://damnjezebel.com)

More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm

Sex News and Sexy Reviews
Half-Nekkid and Getting Fucked (http://www.TarasNaughtyShop.com)
New sex toy review - Inflatable Vibrating Butt Plug (http://www.orgasmarmy.com)
Porn Review: All Girl Slumber Party (http://blog.johnqafterhours.com)
Sexy Girls Playing Mahjong (http://sugarjoy.com)
Welcome to the SexBlog Welcome Blog! (http://sexblogwelcome.blogspot.com)

Sex Advice
How To Worship My Cunt: Future Lovers Take Note! (http://totalsensuality.blogspot.com)

Sex Work
Dominating every male in My path (http://www.ladyevilsdungeon.com)
Not that innocent…. (http://kyliecallme.com)

Erotic Writing and Experiences
Debasing the Bathroom (http://www.chillivanilla.com)
Fucking Mitzi (100th Post!) (http://designingintimacy.blogspot.com)
Hot Rod (http://la-day.blogspot.com)
House Party 101 (http://fourstate.blogspot.com)
I’m Back, Baby (http://suddenslip.blogspot.com)
“Kiss her” (http://tangysweet.blogspot.com)
Mirror, Mirror On The Wall (http://edinerotica.blogspot.com)
On the Other Side of the Green Door (http://www.TaraTainton.com)
Party of 21 (http://erotischism.blogspot.com)
The perfect storm (http://joeheather.blogspot.com)
SMS Weekend Diary (https://junohenry.wordpress.com)
Wild Joy (http://www.suchnonsense.com)
Xantasia Goes To Paradise (http://xantasia.blogspot.com)

Thoughts on Sex and Relationships
1/3rd Dead (http://wesleeptogether.blogspot.com)
Beach Pickup Lines (http://myhotbox.blogspot.com)
JD’s Spec Sheet vs Mel’s- his first (http://wetbeyondbelief.blogspot.com)
The joys of lube (http://www.hotcouple.co.uk)
No Picture - No Reply (http://adult.backwash.com)
Our last make-up (http://anawtymouz.blogspot.com)

BDSM and Fetish
The Honeymoon’s Over (http://redvelvetropeburn.com)
How to be a superslave. (http://www.dangerousfemme.com)
Ode To Cock Illustrated (http://naturaldom.blogspot.com)
She doesn’t know it yet, but it’s already too late… (http://everythingoze.blogspot.com)
Sleeping in (http://orgasmcurious.blogspot.com)
So glad to serve as an inspiration (http://principalquattrano.com/blog)
Webcam session with My lesbian cunt (http://www.caramelvixen.com)

NSFW Pics
Arne Jahn Fetish Photographer (http://eroticandy.blogspot.com)
Stickin to tha HNT Swimsuit Theme (http://texasspitfire.blogspot.com)

Tales From Under The Desk, Part 7

2006-08-25T10:51:00.000-07:00

Read the Prologue, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6.

Our eyes were locked; mine watching his for any kind of reaction and his assessing the different phases of pleasure-pain I was processing. The powerful connection of our gazes made everything else seem hazy.

My hands still grasped the edge of the desk firmly. My nipples throbbed and I tried to catch my breath. He moved slowly toward the box, holding my gaze and knowing I wouldn’t look away. I heard the chain drop into the box and listened hard to try and recognize any other sounds that would give me a hint as to the remaining contents of the box. No luck though.

He moved quickly then; standing up and taking my wrist, he spun me around and with a hand on my back, pushed me down onto the desk. I tried desperately to keep my balance, but moving from the position of having my legs spread so far to spinning around made me lightheaded. When my weight rested on the desk and I realized I wasn’t falling, I breathed again.

"Lay your head down on the desk, facing the right. Do not move."

I planted my left cheek firmly on some papers on the desk and felt his hands on my thighs. He raised my skirt and again tapped on my inner thigh. I moved my legs further apart.

"Mmm… no panties. Good girl."

His hand grabbed my ass cheek and he squeezed it firmly enough to make me gasp before he quickly smacked it a couple of times. After a moment of no touching, I couldn’t tell if he was still behind me or if he had moved to retrieve something else from the box.

Cold, hard, imposing, big and round plunged into my cunt without warning. I yelped or gasped or jumped. Probably all three.

"Don’t move!"

My hands found the edge of the desk above my head and my fingers curved around it, bracing for what I knew was about to happen. But it didn’t come. Instead, it was pulled out and moved to the opening of my anus. He held it there for a minute, gently pushing and teasing, using my juices as lubrication.

I fought the urge to push back, to arch, to meet and encourage it. I didn’t have to fight for long. He slowly applied pressure, pushing it inside me, filling my ass. I moaned as it made its way inside. This was not your everyday average plug. It was hard and substantial. I felt him moving and twisting it, but couldn’t really tell how. His fingers weren’t touching me at all.

He leaned over me then, and spoke in a whisper. "Do you like how that feels in your ass?"

"Yes, Sir," I whispered back.

"Good. It’ll be there for quite a while."

He stood up then and covered my ass with a rapid succession of hard, open-handed spanks. This man can spank harder with his bare hand than anyone I’ve ever known. When my gasps turned to yelps, he stopped.

"Stand up."

I pushed myself up and stood straight as he held me at the waist.

"Legs together."

I closed my legs then and could feel the solidity of the thing filling me extend out between my cheeks. He let go and I heard him swivel in his chair and get up. A drawer opened and closed. I, once again, glanced at the little window in the door and wondered if anyone had wandered by.

Then I felt movement. This thing impaling my ass was being moved around. Not deliberately, but I could feel it all the same. I just couldn’t tell…

Tales From Under The Desk, Part 6

2006-08-23T06:56:00.000-07:00

Read the Prologue, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5.

My blouse and bra quickly ended up in a pile in the dark corner of the space under the desk. He took my hand, pulling me out from the confining space and back up to my knees. He held the clamps in front of me, almost dangling them. They were clover clamps… I’d seen them, but hadn’t yet had the pleasure of experiencing them.

Eric pinched my right nipple and tugged on it just a little. The clamp closed down on it and pain rushed through me. Before I could even take a breath, he was pinching my other nipple. He was rough now, pinching much harder. He cupped my breast from underneath and slapped it hard. The sound echoed off the walls and the room seemed blurry for a moment.

I felt jolted by this and my body reacted, seemingly to move away, before I caught myself. Another wave of pain came from the weight of the chain and the other clamp that dangled from my nipple.

"Don’t move."

Then he fastened the other clamp onto my nipple and I gasped. My nipples felt like they were on fire and my left breast stung from his slap. I could see his handprint there and knew I’d be seeing it for a few days.

He pushed me back down, but held onto the chain that connected the clamps. "Find something to do down there." I smiled at the thoughts of what I could do "down there" and when he dropped the chain, I bent to resume licking and sucking on his toes.

When I moved my hand up the inside of his thigh to lightly rub against the bulge in his pants, he caught the chain with his toes and pulled on it. The moan that escaped my lips was low and thick, originating from deep inside. And the clamps were tighter, if that was even possible.

This continued for what seemed like hours. He would drop the chain for a few minutes, then either catch it with his foot and tug or put his hand in his lap and say, "Chain." At that point I would put the chain in his hand and brace myself for the pain that continued to course through me as he pulled and twisted it.

Finally he took my hand and pulled me up, pushing me backwards until I was leaning on the edge of the desk.

"Spread your legs."

I moved them apart, but apparently not wide enough. He patted the inside of my thigh and I opened my legs wider. He rolled his chair toward me so that his knees were between my thighs. Briefly it occurred to me that anyone who walked by and glanced in through the window would see my naked back. But those thoughts left me as he tugged sharply on the chain. God, it hurt. My eyes pleaded silently with him. His eyes told me there would be no reprieve.

He lightly slapped each breast causing fire to radiate from both nipples. I clutched the edge of the desk as hard as I could and rode the pain. My being became all about the pain.

He lightly slapped my face. "Stay with me."

I opened my eyes and focussed on him at the very moment he removed the first clamp. I threw my head back and hissed loudly. He sucked my nipple into his mouth, causing a mixture of pleasure and pain that made me weak in the knees.

He removed the other clamp and took that nipple between his lips, sucking hard this time. He held onto me until I came back.

"Let’s see what else is in that box."

Sugasm #43

2006-08-22T04:13:00.000-07:00

This week’s best of the sex blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Leading the pack is the top 3 posts voted by Sugasmer participants. Want in Sugasm #44? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the linklist within a week and you’re all set.

Top Voted Posts
Skinny Dipping (http://thehiddensides.blogspot.com)
Pretend Forest (http://xantasia.blogspot.com)
Why I’m Happy With “The Cleavage Situation” (http://lustylady.blogspot.com)

Mr. Sugasm Himself
Brian Griffin on Porn (http://sugarbank.com)

Random Selection
Self Love - Njoy (http://nyc-urban-gypsy.blogspot.com)

More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm

NSFW Pics
Astra Zero remixes nude photos (http://eroticandy.blogspot.com)
For the love of god, don’t see this movie… (http://www.internetisforporn.com)
Half-Nekkid and Loving Herself (http://www.TarasNaughtyShop.com)
Valerie Cortez (http://hotboxbabe.thumblogger.com)

BDSM and Fetish
The Honeymoon Part IV (http://redvelvetropeburn.com)
Hot Dog Anyone??? (http://www.caramelvixen.com)
Jack revisited (http://pick-up-pieces.blogspot.com)
More of the same later (http://dealing-with-domino.blogspot.com)
Small penis information lol! (http://www.spoiledebonyprincess.com)
Sometimes you just need a spanking (http://darkside-journey.blogspot.com)

Thoughts on Sex and Relationships
A bit more on anonymity and outery while contemplating outlawery (http://www.realadultsex.com)
How To Get Great Phone Sex (http://radicalvixen.com)
My Pavlovian Pussy (http://www.taratainton.com)
Night with Vodka Tonic (http://ohsexuallife.blogspot.com)

Erotic Writing and Experiences
Breaking the ice, part 2 (http://junohenry.wordpress.com)
Coming down gently (http://joeheather.blogspot.com)
The dark basement of dirty secrets (http://ellabeecoquette.blogspot.com)
Five times in two days (http://justsexdrugsandrocknroll.blogspot.com)
The grind (http://xxgraciexx.blogspot.com)
Highway of Light (http://femmefataleteen.blogspot.com)
Kiss the Girl- One Last Call for Alcohol (http://texasspitfire.blogspot.com)
Me and Ebony on the Hood of a Car (throwing caution to the wind) (http://dirtydetails.blogspot.com)
Tales From Under The Desk, Part 4 (http://thebinside.blogspot.com)
Why Asian Women Really Get Me (http://virtual-sex-tourist.com)
The World Is Fuckable (http://totalsensuality.blogspot.com)
Yes, Please! (http://designingintimacy.blogspot.com)

Sex News and Sexy Reviews
Get virtual with Jenna (http://myhotbox.blogspot.com)
Neon Dildos and Vibrant Vibrators (http://sultry.naughtyblog.net)
“Put some lead in your pencil” is not just an old cliche! (http://www.xratedtv.com)
Straight Porn Review: Two Dicks for Every Chick (http://blog.johnqafterhours.com)

Humor
Ever read your horoscope? (http://dirtyjokeblog.blogspot.com)
Letters on chest (http://hothardcock.blogspot.com)

Tales From Under The Desk, Part 5

2006-08-21T06:41:00.000-07:00

Read the Prologue, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4.

It was security calling. His pizza was here and they were short staffed at the desk due to shift change. They were sending the delivery up unescorted. I knew this was the conversation taking place. Steven and I had planned it all out.

He hung up the phone and looked down at me massaging his feet.

"I’m apparently having pizza for dinner?"

I smiled up at him. "I thought it would be a nice surprise. It’s from Johnny’s." His favorite.

Rolling his chair back a little, he bent forward and grabbed my arms, pulling me out and up to my knees between his legs. His thighs held my body while his hands moved my face to his. His eyes burned with an azure-colored passion that I felt down to the core of my being. The kiss was long and deep. His hands held my head, pulling me into him. I sucked his tongue between my lips and gave it the same attention I planned on giving his cock later. Having had enough teasing, he withdrew his tongue and gently drew my bottom lip between his. He nibbled on it softly at first, then more firmly. My moans grew proportionately and my finger snaked its way along the bulge in his pants.

There was a quick knock on the door, followed immediately by the sound of it opening. I dropped down, hopefully out of sight, and quietly moved back under the desk. The smell of hot, gooey pizza wafted in.

"Hi," came the friendly voice of the pizza girl, Jackie, as she came in and approached the desk. "You’re the only person I’ve even seen here tonight. Where is everyone?"

"Yeah, there’s a company outing tonight and it’s my turn to watch the shop and make sure nothing explodes here."

I hid my face in my hands to keep from laughing. Something would be exploding, I hoped, but it wasn’t really work related.

I heard the pizza box being placed on the edge of the desk above me and watched as Eric pulled out his wallet.

"It’s been taken care of already," she told him. "Enjoy. And don’t work too hard."

"Thanks. I’ll try not to."

Then the door opened and the familiar whoosh followed.

He rolled his chair back again, glanced at what must have been the pizza, then looked down at me, grinning.

"How much pizza do you think I can eat?"

Confused, I crawled out and sat up on my knees. There were two boxes. This wasn’t part of the plan, so I was curious to see what was up. I started to stand up, but he stopped me.

"Your place is on your knees until I tell you otherwise."

"Yes Sir." My insides hummed.

He opened the top box and said, "Mmm… pepperoni." I craned my head around to see as he picked up the box with the pizza, moved the other box to the top of the stack and opened it.

"Nice," he said. From my vantage point I couldn’t see the contents, though I tried really hard. I was at a loss because I had no idea what to expect. He reached into the box and pulled out something that shimmered when the light hit it the right way. Nipple clamps.

My eyes widened with the realization that Steven and Jackie were having some fun with this, too.

"Take your top off."

My hands quickly began unbuttoning.

Tales From Under The Desk, Part 4

2006-08-17T05:06:00.000-07:00

Read the Prologue, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3.

I quickly withdrew my hand from his thigh as he swiveled toward the door. The bulge in his pants was staring me in the eye.

"Hey, I thought you’d left already."

"I wanted to go over this real quick." It had to be his boss. "There is one small change I need you to make so I can take this with me."

I couldn’t see Eric’s face from this vantage point, but I hoped it wasn’t giving anything away. I don’t think I breathed for the next few minutes. I know I didn’t move a muscle. After what seemed like an eternity, the door opened again. Whoosh. And he was gone.

Eric didn’t move a muscle either. His bulge was still there. "You’re lucky I didn’t have to get up," he said quietly. I took this as a sign that all was well and got to the task at hand.

I untied a shoe and slid it off his foot. The sock came next. I adore his toes. Sucking on them and hearing the little moans and contented sighs that result always make me drip. I held off long enough to get the other shoe and sock off before diving in.

I took each toe into my mouth one at a time and covered it with slow strokes of my tongue; long, deliberate strokes from the base to the tip. I licked along the hollow underneath his toes, soaking them in between. My tongue worked its way into the tender spots between the toes while my hands massaged the ball of his foot and his heel. My lips wrapped around two or three of them, gently sucking them into my mouth. Occasionally I ran my nails very lightly up the back of his calf as far as his jeans would allow my hand to go.

After a while, I moved my attention to his other foot and started all over. Usually when I do this, I am in a position to look up to see the expression on his face. I could imagine it now and wondered if he even gave a thought to the fact that someone might glance through the window. I’d be lying if I said this thought didn’t make me even hotter than I already was.

What I could see this time was the bulge and I was anxious to wrap my lips around it. My hand snaked up his calf and inner thigh, scratching lightly on the fabric covering them.

We both jumped when the phone rang.

Tales From Under The Desk, Index

2006-08-15T13:35:00.000-07:00

TFUTD was my first attempt at a longer story. The premise for this story is based on a real-life running joke. The rest of it is completely fiction. Okay, mostly fiction.

Prologue

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Epilogue

Tales From Under The Desk, Part 3

2006-08-14T20:01:00.000-07:00

Read the Prologue, Part 1, Part 2.

I don’t know how long it was… minutes, hours… until I heard the door open and then whoosh as it closed. I held my breath as he sat down and rolled himself up to the monitor on the other side of the desk.

I had given quite a bit of thought to my next step. I could just picture him jumping at the feeling of something he wasn’t expecting touching him in a place that he couldn’t readily see. And the last thing I wanted was to scare him. I knew that kind of adrenaline rush wouldn’t be good for my ass, either.

And then the email dropped in. Jackie had come up with this part of the plan. She was by her computer using one of my email accounts. The email had been written. All she had to do was hit send. A phone call from Steven was her cue and she had obviously gotten the call. I waited, mentally reading the email with him. Waiting for the chuckle that I knew would come.

He chuckled.

I knew he was reading my description of how I would be sliding my hand up the inside of his thigh. I leaned across the dark space in the corner of the desk and gently caressed his inner thigh. His reaction was so faint I almost missed it. I couldn’t tell if the gasp I heard was his or my own.

And in hindsight, I don’t know if the gasp happened before or after the door opened. An eternity passed before the now-too-familiar whoosh followed.

Tales From Under The Desk, Part 2

2006-08-13T11:39:00.000-07:00

Read the Prologue and Part 1.

Could a week have seemed any more like a year? I watched every word that I said, fearful of giving something away. Eric was disappointed that we couldn’t get together. He was working a late shift this week because the company was having one of their frequent outings and it was his turn to watch the shop, so to speak.

I feigned disappointment, too. But I couldn’t help but grin as I pulled into the parking lot. To be on the safe side, I parked well out of view of his car. As planned, I called Steven and he met me in the parking lot to escort me inside. I was dressed appropriately to blend in with the crowd. As I walked by several people who were leaving the building, I felt grateful I didn’t have to dress for the corporate world every day.

Steven showed me where to sign in and gave me a visitor’s badge that reflected the same fake name I’d used on the register. He navigated the maze of elevators and we both walked into one. He’d filled me in on security in the building. It was probably more than he is supposed to tell people, but it was important that I know what could and couldn’t be done within the eyes of the security cameras.

Exiting the elevator, Steven swiped a card to get past a locked door. We walked down a hallway and stopped in front of a dark room. This door he unlocked with a key and we went in. After the door was closed, he turned on the light and I saw it was an office that was being used for storage. Boxes were piled everywhere and they blocked the view through the door’s window, offering some privacy from passers-by.

I stashed my bag in one of the desk drawers which was, to my surprise, empty. And I waited. I knew Steven had retreated to a security station and was watching me on one of the many monitors on the bank in front of him. I checked myself in compact mirror and freshened up my lipstick. I pulled my skirt up just enough to see that my stockings were straight and to untwist one of the garters. My face reddened to see a text message from Steven on my cell phone: "Nice view!"

I looked straight at the camera and blew kisses.

Finally, I got what I’d been waiting for… the door opened and Steven poked his head in. "Let’s go." As we walked, Steven told me Eric was in his boss’s office. He again used a key to let me into the room and gave me a gentle prod forward when I stopped in the door to take in my surroundings.

I walked around the desk and rolled the chair back. While the desk was actually situated so it faced the door, what Steven didn’t mention was that it was L-shaped. Another monitor sat on that side of the desk and a menagerie of knobs, buttons and meters filled the space between the two monitors. I dropped to my knees and scooted under the front part of the desk.

"Good luck," Steven chuckled down at me as he retreated and I heard the door whoosh and shut behind him.

Tales From Under The Desk, Part 1

2006-08-11T11:27:00.000-07:00

Read the Prologue.

Next, I had to get the lay of the land – or in this case, the lay of the desk – so I could see how it would work. Hell, if it would even work at all. Discreet and hopefully, seemingly random questions about work found their way into our dialogue. I fished for details and used the playful guise of the faux girl under the desk to try and get an idea of what there was to work with.

One evening the week following the party, I met my accomplices, Steven and Jackie, for drinks. They were getting into the game as much as I was and we all plotted and schemed over a pitcher of margaritas. Steven had cased the joint for me, looking with a new eye at the furniture arrangement.

He told me the desk was in the middle of the room and it faced the door. I chuckled at this. When I see someone’s desk arranged so that their computer can’t be seen by anyone else, I automatically assume it’s strategically placed for viewing porn. I guess in this case it takes a pervert to know one. The front of the desk was solid to the floor, presenting a perfect hiding spot from anyone who happened to come in. The door had a window, though, which could be tricky.

I knew Eric would be working a night shift the following week and after discussing several scenarios, Steven agreed that might be the best time to move on what we were now referring to as Operation Desk Job. Jackie wanted to be in on the plan, too, in some way, and the creative juices were flowing because it was easy to find a way to work her in.

We figured out the finer details and were all set to make it happen. I thanked Steven and Jackie profusely for their help and we all commented on what a blast the planning had been.

Next came the hard part… waiting until next week.

Tales From Under The Desk: Prologue

2006-08-10T05:23:00.000-07:00

It had become a running joke between us. Sometimes it was me under his desk; other times it was "the girl" under his desk. But she was there, tending to his needs, rubbing and kissing his feet and whatever else might come up. I’ve often thought how funny it would be for him to truly discover a girl under his desk. I even got a wild hair late last year and schemed how to make it happen.

Because the type of work he does is creative and competitive, security is pretty tight in the building. You can’t just stroll in and act like you know where you’re going. So much for my scheme, though it’s a shame because it would have made for a pretty good laugh. He is divine when he laughs.

Coincidence, though a little late, did present itself for this. A friend dragged me to a play party last week. They aren’t really my thing. I don’t play casually and watching other people play doesn’t do much for me. But she wanted to go and was nervous about going alone. So we went.

After the cursory tour of the play space, I spent most of the evening upstairs where people were clothed and in upright positions. I did meet a woman and we hit it off conversationally as soon as we introduced ourselves. We chatted for over an hour and it was that kind of girl talk that so rarely happens to me any more. It was great.

After a while, her husband came up from the basement, looking somewhat aroused. He sat with us and I got to know him a little better. I couldn’t believe it when he said he worked in security at the very building I’d been trying to get into. A couple of hours and a couple of drinks later, I’d filled them both in on my scheme and he agreed to help me pull it off. Not wanting to miss the fun, she offered to help, too.

To be continued...

Are these the dog days...

2006-08-08T11:45:00.000-07:00

of summer? It sure seems that way. It seems that a lot of us are too busy or too tired to get on with things, myself included. I think now that it's time for school again and I look back over the summer to see exactly what on my Summer To Do list was accomplished, I am discouraged. More of that same stuff I talked about earlier surfaces... the whole depending on someone else concept. I went to bed last night somewhat depressed, frustrated and feeling lonely.

But today is another day and I'm finding more positive things to focus on.

My ass could sure use a good spanking, though...

Don't move!

2006-08-05T16:02:00.000-07:00

He says these words. I hear them and I feel them. His tone has a sense of foreboding. I so don't want to hear that tone. I try with every ounce of my being to keep still. My hands are unbound and alternate between grasping at my thighs and forming tight fists. The implements all run together in my mind. I know the Brush With Death was present and accounted for. He tested it on his palm again after trying it a couple of times on my ass. Apparently it was one of the times I moved. I remember feeling the bristles, too, but only vaguely.

He beat me with the spreader bar. I fought the urge to move my hands to cover my ass. I won some and I lost some. "Don't move!"

When I finally managed to stay still... I think it was the rubber flogger but I'm not really sure, his tone changed to smooth and comforting. "Good girl." I soared.

Then he grabbed the bungee cord that was binding me. One hand in front and one in back and he pulled up hard. It was pulled tight across my clit, then moved more as the material readjusted. I don't know how I reacted, but I am certain I did. "I know..." he said. As if to say "I know it hurts." Or "I know it hurts but it's for me." Or "I know it hurts but you love it."

He'd be right with all three of those.

Another underestimation

2006-08-04T04:07:00.000-07:00

My blindfold was missing and appeared a couple of times on E's list of items he wanted handy. So I needed a new one. Of course the old one has since turned up. Isn't that how it always happens?

Anyway, this is my new blindfold. It came in yesterday's mail (www.stockroom.com) and got put to prompt use last night. Holy hole in the doughnut, Batman! This thing is extreme. I couldn't see a thing. No sliver of light. Nada. E said, "Well, isn't that the purpose of the thing?" Gods, I love this man.

I was seriously disoriented with this thing on. I think that combined with some good earplugs, this would take sensory deprivation play to a whole new level for me.

Coincidentally...

2006-08-03T05:25:00.000-07:00

Let's see... three people talked to me yesterday about expectations. Sure, it's my latest buzz word, but I feel there is some of that coincidental and mystical prompting involved here as well. It seems like the times when I'm not experiencing those odd coincidences are the times I'm feeling out of sync with the rest of the world.

This morning as I was making my rounds through my favorite blogs, I had a hair-raising moment. The last paragraph of Dirty Secret Girl's entry had me nodding my head. The content there is usually fun and exciting fantasy stuff of sexual experiences that are delicious. But this is different. This post easily could have been written by me... okay, most of it. I have been going through those same cycles in my marriage and I'm not going to do that to myself any longer. So as I mentioned yesterday, I'm changing my expectations of this relationship. A friend told me yesterday that I deserve better and they're absolutely right.

So there's my affirmation for the day. Some of you may be thinking that this is further proof that polyamorous relationships don't work. I can honestly say that the other relationships in our lives have not caused this situation. They may have served as a catalyst to bring awareness more quickly, but the situation was there long before the other relationships were. That's a topic for another day... maybe.

Next on my list of Challenges for the Day is removing wax from the tassled end of a riding crop. I'm going to arm myself with a roll of paper towels, some real towels and the iron. Wish me luck.

Oh, and the woman has started her trek across the parking lot, so I see more to come in A Gift.

Gonna change my way of thinking

2006-08-02T04:42:00.000-07:00

I've spent the past few days at the tail-end of an escalating dance with H (my husband) where we basically haven't spoken or interacted much at all. The same situation, the same discussion - we don't really fight... and a different solution presented as a possible fix. The thing is we make great plans of what will happen moving forward and nothing happens. No action items come out of the discussions. Just another description of "this is how it will be." Nothing changes. Wait several months and start the process all over again.

I'm changing my expectations. I've tried this mindset on for a week or so and it's been difficult. But not impossible.

Night before last I had a dream that I was in a hotel room and woke up with a snake in the bed. I hate snakes, but this one wasn't bothersome to me. In the night, apparently, it had shed its skin - twice. I didn't put the usual heavy thought into dream analysis on this one and just went about my day. Work is kicking my ass and I don't have time to do much else. So after the above scenario with H took place, I was talking with E (my Dom) and he was quick to point out that the snake dream clearly represented change.

It was a lightbulb moment. A simple and clear message that I almost missed. I felt a lot better after thinking on this. Hell, I even felt hopeful.

What sex is your brain? (I love these things, part 2)

2006-07-31T06:11:00.000-07:00

Over at the cunting linguist, steff shared some results of a brain sex profile. Now I am a little knowledgeable about this stuff... not a lot; a little. I love these kinds of assessments, but I go into them a little too cautiously, fearing I can spot how each question factors into the big equation. So I have to watch myself to be sure I'm answering in a manner that is true to myself and my thoughts.

Here's how I did:

Part 1 was Angles, where I scored 18 out of 20. This tests spatial abilities. The average for men is 15 and for women, it's 13. This particular step indicates I have more of a male brain.
The second part of Part 1 was a "spot the difference" exercise. Me: 57%. Average women: 46%; avergae men 39%. This score indicates I have a balanced male-female brain. I was surprised at this score. I felt like I'd done much better at seeing the differences than the score indicates.
The thumb test indicates my right brain is dominant. (I actually said "duh!" out loud when I read it.)
For both empathising and systemising, I scored 8 out of 20. That's below the women's average for empathising and spot on the women's average for systemising. I agree with the empathy numbers. I would have considered myself more of a systemiser due to the nature of my work, but maybe it just means I'm not doing a job that is best suited for me.
Part 5 was a series of faces. This reminded me of visits to the eye doctor. I had a hard time with it. The results show I prefer masculine faces.
On the word association test, I scored a total of 18. The scale here only goes to 10, but it does say that women use both sides of the brain when doing verbal tasks.

Overall, my brain score puts me smack dab in the middle of the male-female spectrum. I'd love to see results broken down by gender and sexual preference. If you take the quiz and post it, let me know. I'd love to see other comments on it.

Sugasm #40

2006-07-31T04:40:00.000-07:00

This week’s best of the sex blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Want in Sugasm #41? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form.

Mr. Sugasm himself
The New Wave of Porn Star Hookers (http://www.sugarbank.com)

BDSM and Fetish
Sweet Torture (http://xantasia.blogspot.com)
Sweet and Dirty (http://tangysweet.blogspot.com)
A Spanking Interlude (http://www.spankingwriters.com)
Spanked Again! (http://everythingoze.blogspot.com)
Punishment vs. Discipline (http://www.alternativealbany.com/bdsm/)
A Lesson in the Fine Art of Whipping (http://designingintimacy.blogspot.com)
I feel slightly better and get the brush and the paddle… Hmmmm (http://spankingkatiespades.blogspot.com)
A Gift (http://thebinside.blogspot.com)
Frugal Kink: The $25 Toy Bag (http://www.dangerousfemme.com)
D is for Daddy (http://redvelvetropeburn.com)
Carol’s room (http://assistantmistress.blogspot.com)

Erotic Writing and Experiences
What a girl has to do… (http://dawnndirty.blogspot.com)
Virginal Cherry (http://femmefataleteen.blogspot.com)
Touched, for the very first time (http://faltenin.blogspot.com)
Surprise (I) (http://junohenry.wordpress.com)
Sunday Confession (http://wetbeyondbelief.blogspot.com)
Sexual Exploration (http://sexyukgirl.blogspot.com)
The Return of the Lawyer (http://www.suchnonsense.com)
Outside (http://bdsmlover.blogspot.com)

More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm

Not Too Tired After All (http://masterenigma.blogspot.com)
The Morning After (http://ellabeecoquette.blogspot.com)
Married By Slut Puppy (http://fourstate.blogspot.com)
Hunger no more (http://xxgraciexx.blogspot.com)
Elegant Backstroke in a Shot Glass (http://theholidaylife.blogspot.com)
Come again? (http://orgasmcurious.blogspot.com)
The Celebratory Wank (http://wanklog.blogspot.com)
Annual Check Up (http://gentlygently.blogspot.com)
7/23 by Roxy: Make it a Double! (http://rexandroxy.blogspot.com)

NSFW Pics
Prime Cups (http://www.internetisforporn.com)
Multiple Choice (http://tgp.com)
Memory Lane (http://www.seska4lovers.com)

Sex News
New Blogging Designs Added! (http://tarasnaughtyshop.com)
Avery Score Takes Us Down Rainbow Road (http://sugarjoy.com)

Sex Work
Playing the Repentant Ex-Wife (http://radicalvixen.com/blog)
Any volunteers? (http://kyliecallme.com/diary)

Thoughts on Sex and Relationships
Reader Question - Unfaithfulness (http://shayssexcolumn.blogspot.com)
Panties or Knickers? (http://gentlebutfirm.blogspot.com)
In Search of the City’s Hottest Stripping and Swinging (http://www.taratainton.com)
Exploring Alternative Relationships (http://www.seskuality.com)
The Dangers of Cybersex (http://myhotbox.blogspot.com)
Coffee and a spanking with Master R tonight (http://darkside-journey.blogspot.com)
Beginner’s Fun with Role Play (http://cuntinglinguist.blogspot.com)
“Are You a Ho or Do You Just Want Others to be?” (http://lustylady.blogspot.com)

I bruise you. You bruise me.

2006-07-27T20:40:00.000-07:00

On very rare occasions something comes along that adjusts my emotional bar. Once in a blue moon my emotional bar is completely shattered. It was a blue moon tonight.

I don’t like crowds. And maybe I’ve just become jaded, but I don’t go to many concerts anymore. These days, there just aren’t many artists I’d put up with the "experience" to see. I find myself very disappointed to see someone live and discover that they can’t sing like their songs we all know and love. They can’t hit the notes; they can’t stay on key. It does make me wonder if music today is more mirrors and smoke than a guy with a mic.

Tonight was the exception to all of those things. The crowd. The weather. 95 degrees and 80% humidity at 9pm is not my idea of fun outdoor weather. But we get three notes into it and none of that matters. Tears were streaming down my face and onto my neck by the third song. The hair on my arms and neck stood straight up for most of the night.

In conversation and in writing, I start a multitude of sentences with the phrase "I feel..." And many is the time I’ve been mistaken. I haven’t really felt in a long time. But I felt tonight. And amidst the emotion that made its way to the surface, I wondered where these long lost friends – true raw emotion and feeling – had disappeared to.

I sat there, too mesmerized to even make a sound. Singing along in my mind; knowing every word. Feeling every word. I can’t do the description justice with mere words.

As if it were yesterday, I see myself and some friends sitting in a bar. Upstairs. In a different country on a different continent. And here’s what blows me away.... it was 21 years ago. This album is playing. I close my eyes and I am there. The bar is gone and some of the people who were there with me are gone. And I miss her.

A Gift

2006-07-27T06:49:00.000-07:00

They met for dinner in a fish restaurant in one of those new open-air specialty shopping areas. Several hundred other people seemed to have the same idea because the parking lot was packed. After circling the parking lot twice, she was lucky to find someone leaving and ended up with a spot that was virtually at the front door.

She’d noticed his car parked across the lot in front of a women’s shoe store and a Pier 1.

He was already seated at a table and she joined him, smiling. She was happy to see him. She slid into the booth across from him. "Hello."

"Hello. It’s nice to see you." His eyes took their time taking her in.

"You, too. Have you been here long?"

"Not really. I had to make a stop in the area, and I was a little early." He sipped his drink and she gave her drink order to the waiter. She was feeling a little anxious and knew the wine would soothe her. She chatted about her day, about traffic, about the dream she had last night. Actually she babbled like a brook. She knew she was going on and on but finally got a handle on it when the glass of wine appeared before her.

"I have something for you," he said.

She raised an eyebrow in surprise. "You do?"

"Yes."

She waited. Curiosity paraded a list of things through her mind that she categorically dismissed one after another. He’d given her things before and she knew they came with multiple "uses." Her cheeks flushed a deep pink and she took another sip of wine.

"Walk across the parking lot to the shoe store. Go in and ask for Marleigh. Tell her your name."

She listened, wide-eyed. While she was still processing his words, replaying them to make sure she’d heard correctly, he spoke in a low, firm tone that made the hair on her neck stand up. "Go."

She rose and with a feeling of curiosity mixed with excitement, walked out of the restaurant, past her car, across the parking lot. She loved shopping for shoes and had been meaning to come into this shop, but hadn’t yet made it.

The windows displayed a wide variety of colors, styles and heels. She stopped momentarily to examine a colorful pair of beaded mules with a matching bag. But only briefly; she knew she was probably being watched and didn’t want to seem like she was stalling. Which she was.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door.

A petite, dark-haired, older-looking woman sat behind the counter. When she walked in, the woman stood up and came around to greet her. "Hello. Is there something I can help you find?" The woman’s smile was somewhat maternal and very comforting.

"Yes. Are you Marleigh?"

"Yes I am."

She introduced herself and said that she understood there was something here for her to pick up.
Marleigh’s expression didn’t change at all. She said, "Oh, right. Have a seat, dear, and let me get them." She disappeared into the back. After a short pause, the woman reappeared with a box.

She sat down. As Marleigh approached, she knelt in front of her with the box, opening it and removing the paper and other protective materials. The shoes were black with just a few thin straps. And quite a heel. She was a tall woman so she’d not worn heels with too much height. She’d always felt awkward being taller than everyone around her, and that’s what heels did to her. These heels looked to be about 4 inches.

She kicked her slides off and slid her foot into the shoe that Marleigh held in place for her. One thin strap crossed her foot just above her toes. She watched as one of the straps was wrapped around her ankle. It was attached to a strap that rose from the shoe at the back of her heel.

The ankle strap was held in place by a second strap. This one was nearer to the front, but it met the ankle strap near the inside of her foot. It crossed over the top of her foot diagonally and joined the shoe on the outside of her foot.

The ankle strap had a small clasp. It was shiny and silver and kind of looked like chrome. Marleigh clasped it shut and reached for the other shoe.

She admired the shoe and it did occur to her that she might have a problem walking in these. But they were so dainty and so understated and sophisticated at the same time. She loved the look.

When Marleigh closed the clasp on the second ankle strap, she heard a small click and looked down to examine the clasp more closely. It was odd… not like any other shoe buckle she’d seen. The two metal pieces appeared to slide together. It reminded her of the locks on the diaries she’d had as a child. There was a small hole in one of the halves of the clasp and she felt around, trying to see how it worked.

Marleigh stood up and looked down at the shoes, smiling. "They look great on you."

She stood up and carefully walked to a nearby mirror. They did look great on her, she had to admit. She flexed her feet and turned, watching in the mirror to see how they moved.

"Oh, they are nice… really nice. I’ll have to practice walking in them though. It’s been a while since I’ve worn heels."

She walked unsteadily back to the seat and sat down. She bent and reached down to remove them.

"I think you’ll have a chance to practice sooner than you think. They’re locked." Marleigh smiled at her as if this was the sort of thing she did every day… locking shoes on women’s feet.

"Locked?"

"That’s right dear. I think you know where the keys are."

Heat rose on her face and she turned to look across the parking lot to the restaurant where the man waited.

"Let me just put these in a bag for you." Marleigh picked up her slides and arranged them in the shoebox as if they were brand new and very expensive. She went behind the counter and slipped the box into a bag. She handed it to her and walked her to the door.

"I hope you enjoy them, dear." Marleigh smiled up at her.

"Thank you," she stammered as she awkwardly moved out the door. As she took her first few steps, she noticed the parking lot seemed to have grown since she’d gone into the store.

She took another breath, and with determination, stepped off the sidewalk.

Sex... In... Spaaaaaace.....

2006-07-25T19:36:00.000-07:00

It’s all over the news… in order to have sex in space, you have to be into bondage. Velcro is the thing. It gives a whole new meaning to those trips to Dom Depot, huh?

So if you have to be kinky to do it in space, what does that mean for the other aspects of our kink? Will floggers still flog with the same thwackiness in anti-gravity? I’m guessing not. Will a paddling have the same level of intensity? Good question. But what about things like… say, clamps or clothespins? Will they still clamp as hard? Do battery operated devices work in space? They did in Apollo 13 (the movie version anyway).

I guess things like hot wax and watersports are out. Too messy. Will the use of lubricant become a much more thoughtful type of decision? Is the image of droplets of lube finding their way onto something important like the landing gear switch just frightening?

Will adult-themed space resorts have dungeons? Would you freefloat away from the wall, tethered only by the chains that attach you to it? So many questions…

It sounds like a whole bevy of problems to me. But rest assured, those of you who are already making your space travel reservations, someone somewhere is working on these important issues.

Closely Guarded Secret

2006-07-24T18:47:00.000-07:00

One day all of the planets aligned and my husband, his submissive, myself and my Dominant all happened to be in the same place at the same time. It was the first time the "secondaries" had met and it was interesting to hear their impressions of each other.

My husband said his sub commented to him later that my Dom didn't seem very dominant. And my husband told her he'd thought the same thing when he met him.

This tickles me to no end. This man can evoke any number of emotions in me with just a look and I have bruises on my body that would disagree with the naysayers.

I feel like I'm in on this really big secret that only a few people know. And it's lip-smackingly delicious.

The Brush With Death

2006-07-23T19:06:00.000-07:00

Innocent looking little thing, innit? It's decidedly and deviously deceptive.

He hit me the first time and I reacted rather loudly. He hit me again to see if he'd really heard that right. Then he tried it on his palm a few times. I can only imagine what it must have looked like because, well... I was facing the other direction.

I heard a sharp WHACK! It was followed by a sharp intake of breath and a an utterance of "Oh, my!" Then he chuckled in that low tone that makes the hair on my arms stand straight up.

In between reddening my ass with it, he used the bristles to tease the bottoms of my feet. Pressed into and in between my toes, it was the most awesome dichotomy of feelings. The bristles are soft, yet pointy. Tickling and hurting at the same time.

One of the most underrated toys in my toybag... I now call it the Brush with Death.

B is for Balancing Act

2006-07-21T07:04:00.000-07:00

That's exactly what I feel like I'm doing. And I keep looking from side to side trying to figure out which option is THE option. From the outside, my life looks pretty good. And in reality, it is. Yet I remain anxious and worried instead of being able to appreciate and enjoy the situation I'm in. I can name the things I have to be thankful for and I still feel like an emotional basketcase.

(rant)

I think as much as anyone else, I'm mad at myself. I continue to put myself in situations where I rely on other people to do things. My husband takes out the trash and changes the lightbulbs around here. And they both need to be done at about the same frequency. He left town for a week with all of the outside lights burned out. Now don't get me wrong, I can change a lightbulb. (There's a joke here... somewhere...) It's the fact that he knew they were burned out and chose to leave them that way when I was going to be here by myself for a week. It just rubs me the wrong way. It makes me feel insignificant.

So what'd I do? Changed the lightbulbs. Did he acknowledge that all of the lights had miraculously come back on while he was gone? No. More rubbing.

And the worst of it all is that I'm mad at myself for being mad about fucking lightbulbs...

(/rant)

I love these things.

2006-07-20T08:39:00.000-07:00

This is an interesting personality quiz. I do love these things and am amused at the results on this one.

About me:

You are an Inventor

Your imagination, self-reliance, openness to new things, and appreciation for utility combine to make you an INVENTOR.
You have the confidence to make your visions into reality, and you are willing to consider many alternatives to get that done.
The full spectrum of possibilities in the world intrigues you—you're not limited by pre-conceived notions of how things should be.
Problem-solving is a specialty of yours, owing to your persistence, curiosity, and understanding of how things work.
Your vision allows you to identify what's missing from a given situation, and your creativity allows you to fill in the gaps.
Your awareness of how things function gives you the ability to come up with new uses for common objects.
It is more interesting for you to pursue excitement than it is to get caught up in a routine.
Although understanding details is not difficult for you, you specialize in seeing the bigger picture and don't get caught up in specifics.
You tend to more proactive than reactive—you don't just wait for things to come to you.
You're not one to force your positions on a group, and you tend to be fair in evaluating different options.
You're not afraid to let your emotions guide you, and you're generally considerate of others' feelings as well.
You prefer to have time to plan for things, feeling better with a schedule than with keeping plans up in the air until the last minute.
You do your own thing when it comes to clothing, guided more by practical concerns than by other people's notions of style.
Generally, you believe that you control your life, and that external forces only play a limited role in determining what happens to you.

On Polyamory: an article

2006-07-19T05:31:00.000-07:00

I ran across this article on a mailing list and think it's an interesting perspective.

LOVE UNLIMITED: THE POLYAMORISTS
* 07 July 2006
* Exclusive from New Scientist Print Edition.
* Annalee Newitz

"I WAS dating Gordon when I met Heather and Jim. Then I started
dating Jim too, and Heather started dating Gordon right before he and
I broke up," says Noemi. Confused? Tonight I'm having dinner with a
group whose unusual lifestyle warrants such introductions. They are a
"polyamorous" family - one whose members are openly committed to
several lovers at the same time.

Their household, in a quiet neighbourhood on the outskirts of San
Francisco, looks like any other. A little boy in pyjamas answers the
door when I knock, smiling around a large strawberry stuck in his
mouth. His mother Heather, an artist with oval glasses and pink hair,
is cooking in the kitchen with her boyfriend Gordon, a computer-
network engineer with an understated manner. The dining room is
pleasant, airy and smells of roasting chicken. Heather's husband Jim,
along with housemates Noemi and Alicia, are bustling about the table,
opening wine, putting out place settings and making sure Heather and
Jim's son (the strawberry eater) brushes his teeth before going to
bed. Noemi, a park ranger who is pregnant with Jim's second child,
offers me some bread and cheese.

The group's network of relationships is fairly typical in polyamorous
circles, where it's not unusual to hear somebody introduce a
"husband's girlfriend" or "my wife and her boyfriends". Noemi does
her best to explain the history of the family, but it sounds like a
logic puzzle. "If you really want to understand all of our
relationships, it might be easier if we drew you a chart," says
Heather (see Diagram). "I'm not dating any of them," says Alicia, a
librarian. "My boyfriend is poly, so I guess I'm poly by association."
"I feel like I'm monogamous because I've been sleeping with only one
person for about five years," says Noemi. Everybody starts laughing,
and finally she admits, "OK, well I did sleep with some other people
too."

It is hard to estimate how many polyamorists exist - there is no box
for them on any national census - but the number of online resources,
articles and books on the topic has exploded since the early 1990s,
when the term polyamory ("poly" for short) was coined in internet
newsgroups. The Ethical Slut, a 1997 book by Dossie Easton and
Catherine Liszt that some call the "bible of poly", has sold more
than 50,000 copies and is about to go into its second edition.
Recently the concept of multiple lovers has become the subject of
public debate in the US, where conflicts over gay marriage have led
some conservatives to claim that homosexual weddings will lead to
marriages of more than two people: if you can have two mothers, they
say, why not two mothers and a father?

For psychologists and evolutionary biologists, polyamory is a rare
opportunity to see, out in the open, what happens when people stop
suppressing their desire for multiple partners and embrace non-
monogamy. Proponents say the poly brand of open but committed
relationships may be a way around infidelity because it turns an age-
old problem into a solution: polyamorists are released from the
burdens of traditional marriage vows, yet they seem to keep their
long-term relationships intact. What makes poly enticing is the
possibility of reconciling long-term stability and romantic variety.

No swinging, please

And why shouldn't we consider it? When most people think of non-
exclusive marriages, they think of polygamy, an ancient but still
widespread practice that involves one person, usually male, acquiring
multiple spouses in a harem-like arrangement. Or swinging, in which
couples have casual flings on the side. Polyamory is different. It
encompasses a dizzying variety of arrangements - anything from
couples with long-term lovers on the side to larger groups with
overlapping relationships. If anything characterises poly, says
Elaine Cook, a psychiatrist who has a private practice in Marin
county, California, it is a lack of rigid structure.

What evidence there is shows that poly couples stay together as long
as monogamous ones - and, apparently, for good reasons. In a study
published last December in the Electronic Journal of Human Sexuality
(vol 8), Cook analysed the relationships of seven couples who had
been married for more than 10 years, and who had had additional
partners for at least seven of those years. She found that most of
the couples reported "love" or "connection" as important reasons for
staying together. This contrasts with monogamous couples, Cook notes,
who often list external factors such as religion or family as major
reasons for remaining committed.

That is telling. Cook speculates that polyamorists perceive
themselves as having more choices, and therefore they only stay in
marriages and relationships that make them happy. "They have other
relationships that they are perhaps equally excited about being in,
but they want to maintain this [marriage] relationship because it
continues to satisfy them," she says.

For some, poly may be more realistic than monogamy. Having multiple
partners frees people from the process of trying to find "the one"
who is perfect for them in every way. In April, psychologist Rachel
Robbins at the Mission Mental Health clinic in San Francisco
conducted a survey of 250 polyamorous women. The number 1 reason they
gave for being poly was "to experience different activities and
explore different parts of themselves with different people". Instead
of asking one person to meet all their needs, polyamorists are
content with several people who each meet a few.

Noemi's housemates would drink to that. "I have a lot of interests
and passions in my life, and I can't fulfil them all in my
relationship," says Alicia. "It was good to have my partner go off
and date other people, because then I could pursue my outside
interests too - and I didn't feel scrutinised for wanting to do
that." Noemi agrees: "It makes me sad that so many people isolate
themselves," she says. "It's good to have multiple people who love
you, and it's good to have freedom and downtime too."

All well and good, but what about the demands of juggling so many
commitments at once? Surely it saps their time and energy. In a break
during dinner, I ask how the family manages multiple relationships,
particularly as most of them live under the same roof.

"We all have our own bedrooms, which is key," Noemi says. "And our
bedrooms aren't next to each other, so we have privacy," says
Heather. "Also, we have a nominal schedule where Jim sleeps with
Noemi and me on an every-other-night basis, and I'm with Gordon on
the weekends."

"My nights without Jim are great," Noemi says with a laugh. "I get to
hog the covers, and nobody snores."

Critics call poly self-indulgent and morally reprehensible. Yet it is
hardly a sexual free-for-all. The freedom has limits - and managing
emotions like jealousy becomes a central issue. "These are designer
relationships," Cook says. "Every group decides for itself what's
open and what isn't."

Take Emma and Nate, a young married couple living in California's
Silicon Valley who describe themselves as "stable and well-settled".
They met in college 11 years ago and have always had a polyamorous
relationship. Emma has had a boyfriend for the past seven years,
while Nate prefers to have short-term romances with friends. Some
aspects of their relationship, however, are not open. "We don't do
sleepovers with other people," Emma says.

"I like waking up next to her in the morning," Nate says. "The only
exception is if I'm out of town, in which case I don't mind if she's
having a sleepover." Another rule they have established is letting
each other know in advance about dates with other people. "If either
of us gets serious about someone else, we bring them home to meet the
spouse," says Nate. "In fact, that's what we're doing tomorrow -
we're having lunch with my new girlfriend and her husband."

Your cheating heart

Polyamorists come to it at different points in their lives and for
different reasons. Emma says she had open relationships in high
school, and many people I spoke with described discovering poly in
their late teens or early twenties. Most, like Jim, tried monogamy.
"My first marriage was supposed to be monogamous, and I was," he
recalls. "But she slept around in a cheating way. That killed the
relationship."

So is poly more sustainable than monogamy? "Infidelity in monogamous
relationships is estimated at 60 to 70 per cent, so it seems that
attraction to more than one person is normal. The question is how we
deal with that," says Meg Barker, a professor of psychology at London
South Bank University who presented her research into poly at the
2005 meeting of The British Psychological Society. "The evidence is
overwhelming that monogamy isn't natural," says evolutionary
biologist David Barash of the University of Washington, Seattle.
"Lots of people believe that once they find 'the one', they'll never
want anyone else. Then they're blindsided by their own inclinations
to desire other attractive individuals. So it's useful to know that
this behaviour is natural."

But as a mating strategy, poly may not be any better than monogamy; a
person's reproductive success may diminish if there is less pressure
to be exclusive. "Jealousy is probably fitness enhancing," Barash
says. A more jealous male is likely to stick closer to his mate and
prevent her from getting impregnated by other males. "A good look at
human biology does not support polyamory any more than it supports
monogamy," he says. Biologist Joan Roughgarden, at Stanford
University in Palo Alto, California, goes further. "Polyamory won't
last. The likelihood of being able to successfully raise children in
that context is very limited. My guess is that it's not an
evolutionary advance, but a liability."

To others, however, biology is not the point. "In middle-class urban
cultures, people aren't marrying for survival any more," says
psychologist Dossie Easton, co-author of The Ethical Slut. "They can
get divorced, and the kids won't starve. This means we're having
marriages and relationships for very different reasons than our
ancestors did. We're doing it for emotional gratification." Easton
sees poly as a break from the "survival strategy" traditions that
created both polygamy and monogamy. "Polyamory is a cultural
outgrowth of serial monogamy, or having multiple partners without
necessity," she says. "Once you're released from necessity, you can
start doing all kinds of original thinking."

Barker concurs. "It's assumed that jealousy is a natural response,"
she says, "but some polyamorous people say they hardly feel it at
all. I think this gives us insight into how people can make sense of
their worlds in many ways if monogamy isn't the default." She has
found that when people leave traditional monogamy behind, they often
rethink "givens" such as how to divide up the housework, money and
childcare. Children of poly couples, for instance, tend to be raised
by a small community instead of two parents.

Back in San Francisco, Heather's family is clearing the table. As she
replaces our plates with bowls of fruit compote, she says poly is a
way of keeping her long-term partnerships alive. "When you think
about it, what happened is that Jim and I didn't get divorced when we
got new partners. We're still together and yet have more love from
other people."

"Polyamory is not for everybody," says Jim. "But it creates a range
of options, which is important because you can't optimise one kind of
relationship to fit everyone."

"The important thing is that we trust each other," says Noemi,
rubbing her pregnant belly with a smile. Although poly is still well
out of the mainstream, it has become an attractive alternative to
monogamy for some. Whether it is good for society remains an open
question. For now, there's a more pressing issue - is it good for you?

From issue 2559 of New Scientist magazine, 07 July 2006, page 44
-----------------------------------------------------
Poly primer

In a study of polyamorous communities online, psychologist Meg Barker
found that they had invented new terms to describe the emotions and
logistics of non-monogamy.

Ethical slut - someone who sleeps with several people but is honest
and open about it; the foundation of polyamory

Frubbly - the opposite of romantic jealousy; the happiness a person
feels when his or her partner is happy with another partner (known as
compersion in the US)

Metamour - a poly partner's other lover

NRE - new relationship energy, the zingy feeling of euphoria when you
fall in love with a new person

Primary - a polyamorist's main partner. Other less intimate partners
may be termed secondary or tertiary. Those who have several equally
intimate relationships say they engage in non-hierarchical polyamory
Love, actually

---------------------------------------------------
Dossie Easton is a psychotherapist and, along with Catherine Liszt,
wrote The Ethical Slut in 1997. The book discusses polyamory - being
openly committed to more than one sexual relationship at a time. Here
she describes what polyamory means to her.

What is polyamory, and where did it come from?

The idea has been around for a while. I decided to be non-monogamous
in 1969. Back then people called it free love, open relationships or
even transmarital sex. The word polyamory was invented by
psychologist Deborah Anapol to refer to group marriage. Now it means
people who have a variety of different kinds of relationships. It is
everyone who is living outside the notion that you can only have one
true love.

Why choose this lifestyle?

There is a whole range of reasons, but the highest is finding
community. Poly community becomes an extended family that shares
intimacy, sex, housing and child-rearing. I see non-monogamy as
creating places where people can nurture relationships because they
don't have to leave home, children or partner to explore themselves.
They don't have to tear up their world every time they try something
new.

How come everyone isn't poly?

We have huge social strictures against unbridled sexuality, so non-
monogamy is threatening and frightening. In my practice, I see a lot
of people who feel strongly drawn to poly, but they think something
is wrong with them - that they're commitment-phobic or have problems
with intimacy. I think desire draws us along a path of self-
discovery, and through that we find intimate connections with other
people.

Today's B is for Beginning

2006-07-14T14:44:00.000-07:00

New blog! Yippee!!