the little black dress, Part VI

would you please make me a sandwich?

she promptly threw her head back and laughed.

the cursor kept blinking at her, mocking her. she sat back from her computer. the damn story lacked detail and she knew it. something was different. she knew the writing about the foreplay between the strangers was good, damn good, but chemistry was gone. she needed another angle.

babe? she called out.

she knew she this entry of her story wasn't where she felt it should be. she was frustrated, she didn't know what else to write. she needed inspiration.

yep? he walked into the room, dishtowel slung over his shoulder. he looked so sexy. since he had stopped smoking, his face looked so much more handsome, less weathered. she drug her eyes over his body. his flannel pants slung low on his hips. there were damp spots on his t-shirt where the dish water had assaulted him, wanting to get as close to him as she was going to be. in just a few short months, they would celebrate their eighth anniversary. it was unbelievable how much they had been through--two miscarriages, one stillborn baby, the death of each of their parents, the birth of their son, who, tonight, was with his brother. these thoughts escaped her mind nearly as soon as she thought them. she smiled a small smile and with her eyes beaming love, she walked to him.

i love you. she told him as she looked into his eyes telling him that she would prove it as she had on countless nights like this one. as she stepped into his embrace, she could feel him begin to strain against her stomach. she planted her smile into his lips. she had forgotten the last time she had kissed him, couldn't remember his taste--the roadmap on his tongue. she used the tip of her tongue to lave his bottom lip. it was fuller than his top lip. as she attended to his lip, she felt his moustache tickle her lip. soon, she knew her face and body would be rouged from the five o'clock shadow that would rub against her cheeks...and thighs.

lazily, with intent, he began to kiss her. he invited her tongue into his mouth. he stroked her tongue reminding her of how he would love her later. immediately the crotch of her panties became moist. she loved him like this, willing and open. she felt his hands burrow their way underneath her layers of clothes to touch the sensitive skin of her back. she snaked her arms around his neck to caress the back of his neck. she marveled at the feel of the closely cropped hair at his nape.

as his hands covered her breasts, stroking her nipples through the thin cloth of her bra, the shrill scream of the kettle interrupted their play.

frustrated, he placed his forehead against hers. with a derisive laugh he said,

hold that thought. i was making you some tea to comfort you while you wrote.

she watched him retreat to the kitchen thinking how truly blessed she was. he was a good man. and she would get the inspiration she needed to continue her story tonight. she started to the kitchen after him knowing she would find bliss.

the little black dress, Part V

he chuckled as she made her way to the front door, loving the way in which her hips gently swayed back and forth like a ripe field of wheat. he realized that if the night was going to continue, she was going to need some nourishment. he was saddened to see her don his shirt. he picked up the rest of their discarded clothing and led her into the house.

hmm. nice decor. she smiled.

you've only seen the foyer.

it's a hell of a lot better than wooden slats.

his laughter roared through the old house. he motioned her to follow him with a twist of his neck. they made their way to the kitchen. he saw her check out the state of the art appliances. she leaned over the jenair stove and looked up at him.

very nice.

he nodded his appreciation. the kitchen was cozy, he knew. there was a large fireplace on one of the walls near the table. he was glad he thought to put a few logs on it before heading back outside for their last round. he started to move around the kitchen, stopping at the refrigerator, at the microwave, pulling a few shelved items from the cabinets. there was little conversation as she watched him deftly move throughout the kitchen. soon, he produced a light meal that he sat in front of her. a warm salad with seared tuna, crusty bread, and a small cup of broth. he retrieved a bottle of water and poured her a glass.

she began to pick at her salad. he could sense her skepticism about the food. he watched her take one bite and then another. her suprise was obvious. soon, her food was gone.

you aren't going to eat? she asked.

no. my stamina doesn't come from food.

it was her turn to laugh. it was as if warm butter flowed over him as her sultry laughter dripped from her lips. he started to laugh, but as she was seated on a barstool at the island, he glimpsed the long expanse of her leg.

uh-oh. she smirked as she took notice of his arousal.

this next one is for me. he told her as he unseated her and walked her to the old, but sturdy, kitchen table. her thighs were pressed into the table. he pulled his shirt over her buttocks. she offered him her chest, grasping the edge of the table, inviting him to unbutton the shirt. he knew what he wanted and he was growing impatient by degrees. to her surprise, he ripped the shirt from her body and pushed her up against the rock wall closest to the fireplace. her fingernails dug into his back as he ravaged her neck. he ground his arousal into her pelvis hoping she would not complain about his roughness. he pulled down his underwear just to his thighs. roughly, he entered her.

he barely noticed her scream and the ferocity with which her nail dug into his back. he couldn't feel his skin breaking as she clawed his back in pleasure. he focused on her warmth. how tight she was. she gloved him, milking him, enticing his climax within her walls. she pulled one leg up to allow him to fully enter her. he placed his head warily on the wall near her shoulder. he wanted to prolong his pleasure. he felt her begin to move. he tensed. sweat beaded at his brow, his body both hot and cold. he quickly and savagely began to thrust into her hot, hot pussy. he heard her moan, as he picked up his pace thrusting the full length of his manhood into her.

before he could establish his stroke, she removed her leg from his buttocks. dazed, he allowed her to push him to the hearth. covering his eyes with his arm, he felt her remove the last scrap of clothing from his body. the next thing he felt was her mouth, warm and wet on his dick. he raised his head up to see her work him over. she was ruthless. up and down and up and down, with a quick precise rhythm, he watched himself disappear into his mouth. he nearly lost it when she took him fully inside of her mouth and began to suck him. he began to claw at the stone hearth of the fireplace, no longer able to watch her. he could only feel. he was so close, but he kept fighting his pending arousal.

she felt him grow and thicken in her mouth as he began to come. she quickly withdrew her mouth.

nooo. he said as he felt her withdraw her mouth from his almost painful member. before he could lift his head to see what prompted her mouth's sudden departure, she straddled him taking the full length of him inside her hot body. she began to move. she smirked at him, saying, the first one's for you, right?

with skill she rode him, her breasts bouncing in the firelight. quickly she found the right rhythm. she was pulling his orgasm from him. she rocked back onto her heels and took him fully inside and began to snap her hips up and down the length of his shaft. he felt how wet she was, how wet she was becoming as their interlude progressed. he started to thicken and grow as he heard her pant and mutter obscenities--telling him how good he felt, mocking him, asking him if he wanted her to stop.

he pleaded with her not to stop. he was about to come. she felt it and picked up her pace. she became a blur as her hips rode him. he felt her clench the walls of her vagina around him. he became dizzy. as he grabbed her buttocks to push himself fully into her, he felt her palm his balls.

he yelled out as his orgasm spilled into her body. she used her muscles to milk him. he was fully inside her, convulsing as she pulled the last bit of pleasure from him. with his hands planted loosely on her hips and his eyes closed he asked her,

would you please make me a sandwich?

she promptly threw her head back and laughed.

more of the black dress?

please let me know what you think of "the little black dress" series. is there more to say or has everything been said... i will seriously contemplate any and all suggestions.

the little black dress, Part IV

please read parts 1-3, in the posts directly below this one.

he rolled back onto his heels and away from her steaming vagina. take your shoes off, he commanded, she did as she was told. slowly she lowered herself onto the soft heels of her feet. he set her shoes to his right. turn around. not sure where he was going with his commanding demeanor, she decided not to argue. he hadn't disappointed her yet. he began to stroke her thighs and ass. nice, he murmured as he placed butterfly kisses on the ample cheeks of her derriere. he raised up fully on his knees and began to kiss and stroke her back. how did he know that was one of her spots. her knees began to buckle. she felt him grin into each kiss he placed on her back.

is something funny? she asked.

no. step back.

she complied. he kissed the backs of her knees and ran his tongue along the delicate strip of skin where her thighs ended and her buttocks began. she shivered again. he placed her foot on his thigh. slightly off balance, she awaited the next flick of his tongue. she felt him bend her leg and raise her foot to the doorknob. what the... quickly he took one of the lace straps from her shoe and tied her foot to the knob. awkwardly, she pitched her body weight forward. her face was pressed against the red door and her hands precariously grasping at the door jamb. she knew two things. one, she wasn't into s&m and, two,she was wide open. the cold night air tickled her pink lips and sent shocks through her clit. she thought to untie herself but she wanted to see what he had planned. standing behind her, he whispered in her ear.

i promise you three like this.

with the tingle the night air created in her body, she was already close to one. he pulled his shirt out of his slacks and sat between the door and her thigh. pushing slightly away from the door jamb without losing her balance, she saw him look at her pussy in awe. she could just barely feel the warmth of his breath on her mons. it was a strange sensation as the cold air would waft around her clitoris alternating with his breath. he moved his face close to her clitoris. she moaned in anticipation. he placed a hot kiss on her pubis. she began to pant and whine. she wanted him to take her in his mouth, but she was damned if she was going to beg him to do it. maybe he didn't eat pussy. she doubted it. there was something very erotic about the way he looked at her folds of womanhood. he was deeply engrossed and at rapt attention. she felt a familiar pull low in her abdomen. the hell she was coming. then he looked up at her. she could barely read his expression in the dark, but she could sense his animalistic attraction. she couldn't stand it any longer. she closed her eyes and let the feeling begin to subsume her. she began to shake. she could feel his eyes on her, feel his breath on her womanhood. she began to moan loudly, just as her first orgasm started to take over, she felt his mouth hot and hard, sucking her clit, milking her. she began to tremble violently. her breath coming in short spurts. her knees gave way as her love juice trickled down her thighs. he felt her come and wouldn't let go. she felt him shift his mouth, slicing his tongue over her clit while sucking all of her orgams out of her. she crested, again and again and again. he wouldn't stop. at some point, he had untied her ankle and her foot inched higher on the door frame to allow him better access. he gave her one rapt tap on her behind, she screamed into the depths of the night and crumpled to the porch, drained. she didn't know how many times she came, but she was sure it was more than three. too sated to open her eyes and look for or at him, she felt him move her. she hoped he had at last opened the door and they could go inside to the bed. she found herself on her hands and knees with her pashmina cushioning her from the hard cold wood of the porch.

wildly, she looked around at him. you owe me two more, he said as his hand slid from her slit to her sex button over and over again. she began to tingle. two more, she thought. impossible. she didn't need to come anymore. she would have been happy to take a nap. she was resting on her forearms with her ass in the air, once again, exposed. before she could express her doubt in her ability to come again, he softly lapped at the sensitive area between her pussy and her anus.

damn, she muttered.

he inserted his tongue into her hot box. he applied light pressure to her anus with his thumb. for a moment she was afraid he was going to try to finger her there. she relaxed as she realized that his only intent was to stimulate her nerve endings. she could feel another orgasm coming. he placed his hand low on her stomach as if to further expose her womanhood. with excrutiating deftness and painful precision, his thumb slowly, s l o w l y rotated over her sensitive nub. she tried to jump from the combined pleasure of his mouth and thumb. the position of his hand prevented her from moving. she had to take it. tears began to well in her eyes as the monster of her orgasm devoured her. thrashing her head from side to side, her entire body began to jerk. he knowly replaced his thumb with his mouth. his tongue moved about her protuberance while his lips firmly held it in place. tears slid down her cheeks as she wordlessly shook her head in bliss. there were no words. nothing had ever felt like this, as good as this. she felt liquid shoot out of her. there wasn't anything she could do about that now. the man and the sensations for which he was responsible were all that mattered in this moment. her legs began to slide across the floor trying to raise her ass in the air as if to get away from his relentless mouth. she barely registered his grunt, but he didn't stop. she didn't know that she had moved them nearly two feet across the porch. he let her go as he began to see the skin at her knees breaking from wood burns, as she was no longer protected by the pashmina that lay in a heap where they had started. he pulled on her nub with this mouth before letting her go. she released an animal-like scream that registered with his own animalistic nature. he sat back on his knees smug, as he watched her body continue to spasm as she lie on her side, her love juice trickling over her thigh.

she was suspended in another world. she thought she heard an animal sniveling. it took three full minutes before she realized the sounds she heard were coming deep from her own throat, deep from within her. her body continued to buck from the aftershocks of pleasure that still gripped her. her body was swathed in sweat. she couldn't feel the cool winds at all. in fact, she was only vaguely aware that her companion had left her. for a moment, she wanted to cry at his sudden abandonment. since he had shattered her to pieces, she wanted him to put her back together again. before she could think about it further, he stood before her with a quilt and a bottle with a substance that glinted yellow in the moonlight.

bed. she rasped. her throat sore from the screams torn from her deeply sated body. he walked just out of her eyesight. she felt the cool air whoosh against her skin. as he bent to lift her, she opened her arms to him, needing his warmth, needing his strength. he walked a few steps before placing her on the out-spread quilt. no. she told him with determination.

but you owe me one more. he reasoned. i can't. the panic in her voice nearly tangible.

one more. he remained steadfast with no room for objection. surely, he was the devil she thought. her tormentor. she was barely capable of rational thought, let alone another orgasm. she expected him to be freaky, not crazy, not a masochist. fine, she thought, if she died from an overdose of sex, at least she would die happy. and, with the way that her body was feeling, she was sure that she had absolutely nothing left.

he stripped down to his underwear. his own arrousal pulsing in the light of the moon. she could tell by the determined set of his jaw that he would not give into his own desire until her fulfilled his promise to her. he stretched his long, lean body onto the quilt beside her. he told her to lay on her back. again, she followed his instruction. on his side, elbow bent with his head resting in the palm of his hand, he reached over her skimming her nipples with his outstretched arm as he grabbed the unfamiliar bottle. too resigned to fight, she decided not to ask him what was in the bottle. she was instantly warmed by the heat radiating from his body. she fought a shiver--a flashback of the pleasure he granted only moments before. he placed the bottle on her stomach and traced her lips with the tip of his tongue. she darted her own tongue out to engage his in a sensuous battle. she could handle this. an hour of this and she would be ready for penetration. he kissed her lazily, his tongue drugging her, making her breathless. she was unaware that he had opened the bottle. she felt intense warmth on her nipples. oh g-d. she thought. this felt good...real good. she pulled her lips from his, as he looked at her nipples expecting to see his fingers tugging and pulling at them. they glistened in the moonlight. rather unexpectedly, she felt his hot mouth on her nipple. damn, i got got again, she thought. these feelings were postively divine, ordained, . . . heavenly. with light pressure, he took her nipple between his teeth and released. as her breast vibrated from his abrupt release, he blew across her chest. her stomach clenched. she owed him one and she was sure, at this moment, that she would deliver. he leaned farther over to lave the same attention upon her other nipple. he placed his hand just under her pelvic bone centered between her hips. with the heel of his hand he placed pressure there while his mouth worked her other nipple over.

he removed his hand when he felt her g-spot harden from the outside. slowly, he inserted two fingers inside of her. he curled them as if to beckon her third coming. quickly, he began to move his two fingers against her g-spot while alternately blowing on her areolae. this orgasm wasn't nearly as intense as the last but it was a welcomed relief and release to her. she watched him watch her as electricity flowed white hot through her veins. she clung to his forearm as she came the requisite third time. instead of feeling drained, she felt as if she could conquer the world. she had boundless energy. she was ready for him. she asked,

may i see inside the house now?

indeed, you may.

the little black dress, Part III

please check out the first two installments below . . .


standing there, still spread eagle, her red pashmina at her ankles, she tried to collect herself-her thoughts, her grounding, her breath, she felt his jacket encircle her shoulders. she looked over her shoulder. he stood casually only a few steps away, with his hands in his trouser pockets, her pashmina neatly folded and thrown over his shoulder as if to show his royal lineage. are you ready? she turned to face him her face lit with a smirk of mirth. she stood staring directly into his black orbs. slowly, without breaking eye contact, she grasped his right shoulder and lifted her leg. hooking her thumb in the waist band of her panties she tugged them down her right hip. she licked her lips, held tight to his left shoulder and pulled her panties down her ankle. she smiled bashfully and placed the delicate scrap of material in the interior pocket of his sports coat. ready.

he stepped out of the aclove and nodded for her to step out onto the well-lit cobblestone street. most of the traffic from the club closers had thinned by this time. your place, not mine? she smiled sweetly. he threw his head back and barked out a gale of laughter. i had something else in mind. his mouth wide from genuine amusement. he stepped close to her, bent his head, his lips hovering dangerously close to her own. warm? she could barely think, he had a mind-boggling effect on her.

"folks, we've got to clear this area. club's closed."

without moving his body or his head, he replied "we were just leaving officer." she lodged her hand between his shirt and belt buckle and pulled him the fraction of an inch to her mouth. she devoured his lips. she didn't stop, couldn't stop, when the officer chuckled and told them not to loiter too long. crazy kids. he thought.

he broke her kiss with a grin noticing the swell of her bottom lip from his kiss. he grabbed her hand and pulled it to his mouth. instead of kissing the back of her hand as she expected, he licked his lips and his moist tongue carressed her palm. slowly pulling her by her hand he led her to his car. she noticed that it was a mid-sized luxury car. domestic. those facts might come in handy if she found herself in his trunk later that morning. the car alarm chirped as it was disarmed. leading her to the passenger side of the car, he opened her door. he wore a warm smile as she slid into the leather bucket seat. he took his index finger and slowly traced her collarbone. he inched he finger deliberately down her chest until finally he arrived at her nipple. he tweaked it as he placed a kiss on her forehead.

as he jogged behind the car around to the driver's side, she thought. my turn. she turned a radiant face to him as he reached over and fastened first her seatbelt then his own. as the engine purred to life, sade softly crooned through the car speakers. a little trite, she thought. but definitely workable. soon they were headed east on the major thoroughfare out of the city and away from her home. every so often he would look at her from the corner of his eye. she pretended to watch the retreating skyscrapers as they made their way further east. she reached across the gearshift and felt his manhood. she was disappointed to find that he was just barely aroused. she chuckled.

i can do better than that.

he smiled at the way in which his words were served back to him. this was a sexy lady with personality and attitude. quickly and deftly with one hand, she undid his belt buckle, unzipped his pants, unfastened his pants, and began to stoke his member from the opening in his grey designer boxer briefs. in the matter of a minute he was fully aroused. she smiled a half smile at him. looks like turnabout is fair play.

she watched his knuckles lose their color as he gripped the steering wheel. beads of sweat dotted his forehead as she cupped her hand over the head of his turgid flesh. she noted the irony as sade sang about the kiss of life as she slowly lowered her head to his shaft. he expelled his breath at once, feeling the pleasure of her warm mouth surround the most sensitive part of his anatomy. she felt the car swerve slightly as she suckled lightly at the tip of his penis. she lapped at his member. his breathing became labored as she took him in her mouth inch by delicious inch. shit.it took everything in him not to speak in falsetto. she looked at his rigid dick and marveled at its beauty. it was beautiful--bobbing around in the receding city lights. she licked at the sensitive skin that connected the base to the tip. he gasped. then, she began to wet his penis from base to tip with her saliva. she applied more suction, tasting his salty essence. she applied pressure to the shaft as her mouth tongued his tip. he began to shudder and spasm. she laughed deep in her throat, humming against his dick. she never slowed her speed, taking great care to pay attention to the head. with her other hand she palmed his balls. ummmm...baby. damn it, baby. shit. she smiled as she increased the pressure of her hand and the suction of her mouth--worshipping his shaft with her carefully honed skills. he let his hand rest lightly on her head. normally, she would have stopped. but, it felt right. he wasn't trying to control her speed, rather, he was fighting for control. his breathing became more labored. pulling the car over, he removed his hand and placed his forehead on the wheel. he slowly leaned back in his seat, his body jerking each time she flicked and swirled her tongue on the head of his penis. with a weary exhale, he turned the car off.

we're here.

she raised her head not allowing him completion. her eyes glinted with laughter as she gently touched the corners of her mouth to fix her lip gloss. her eyes raked his face. as the last spasm rocked his body, he opened his eyes. he saw the triumph solidly present in her eyes.

touche. he said as he rested his head on his seat rest. as if those few moments rejuvenated him, he righted himself, undid her seatbelt then his own. after exiting the car and coming around to her side, he opened her door. he offered his hand and helped her out of the car. they stood in the unpaved driveway of an old victorian house ablaze with light. i guess he did bring me to his place, she thought.

he smiled at her as he closed the passenger door. he blanketed her body with his own, pressing her back against the car. he kissed her long and hard placing his hand between her breasts. he felt her heart accelerate and he again gained the upper hand. he opened her legs by pressing his hard member between her thighs. he ground his hard penis against her mound, lifting her off the ground. she moaned as she locked her left leg around his thigh, her knee at his buttocks. he felt the moisture at the juncture of her thighs penetrate her dress as well as his slacks through to his bare thigh. she broke his kiss as she flung her frenzied moan to the star-encrusted sky.

he took her hand in his and led her up to the porch that wrapped around the first floor of the house. he entertwined both of his hands with hers and pulled her close to him--her hands in his. suddenly her back was pressed solidly against a red door. slowly he dropped to his knees. immediately, she looked the property over for any neighbor's prying eyes. no neighbors to be seen this time of night, she felt the cold night air against her intimate place, her stomach, her breasts. she lifted her arms as he brought her dress over her head. she wasn't embarrassed by her nudity, in fact she was turned on and felt her secretions trickle antagonizingly down her thigh. again, he dropped to his knees. he was level with her pussy. she could feel his moist, warm breath on her neatly trimmed pubic hair. she lifted her hips toward his mouth. he leaned back, refusing to touch her with his mouth. he lifted her leg, supporting it at both her thigh and her calf. she lowered her hips back to the door. he placed her leg over his shoulder and looked up to her face. as his face neared her moist honeypot, his smile made her juices flow freely. his voice laced with sarcasm, he told her,

payback is a muthafucka.

her left arm crept up the red door like a vine, as his tongue carefully began to lick the liquid streaming down her thigh.

the little black dress, Part II

please read the first installment below...

yeah. yeah. yeah. she had heard it all before...twelve inches...go all night...i eat pussy like a pro...bl-blah, bl-blah, bl-blah, blah, blah. he stepped aside and with a gallant sweep of his arm, he invited her to lead the way. she began walking through the throng of sex-crazed dancers. her cheeks begin to tint pink as she felt his left hand on her hip and his groin solidly situated against her ass. his hand molded to her hip as if it was cast to fit her hip, just then, just that way. as she came to a particularly dense grouping of dancers, he put his hand on her rib cage. to onlookers, it probably looked very innocent--a lover, a boyfriend clearing the way for his companion. as she tried to navigate two bodies between bodies pressed upon bodies pressed upon bodies, his hand slowly slid under her red pashmina, gently brushing the skin on the underside of her arm, underneath her dress. she sharply inhaled as his blunt fingers found and pinched her right nipple. she felt the sweet torture of her dress rubbing against her upper thigh. then as if to torment her with whispered promises, he, instead, flicked his tongue inside of her ear. quickly she pushed through the crowd trying to get away from the cocoon of pleasure he was trying to wrap her in. as she pushed through the dancing couples, he let go of her nipple and, again, placed his left hand solidly on her left hip.

she made her way outside. funny, it was much colder when she started down the street. her "date" placed his hand at the small of her back. walk. he said. she wasn't into any rape simulations. slowly, she tilted her head up with a bright smile on her lips. initially, she planned to jovially explain to him that she was not his bitch or his ho and that she would do things her own way in her own time. initially. his mouth descended upon hers like a bird upon its prey. his tongue snaked around hers, stroking, laving every nubby nerve ending as if to forever mark his memory. he licked her lips with his tongue before he broke the kiss with a grin. her moist lips quivered as she opened her eyes questioning why he ended the kiss. quickly he ducked his head, stepping in front of her, he led her to the darkened aclove of an abandoned building.

the metal grate felt cool against her flushed cheek. his groin pressed, hard, into her buttocks. she whimpered softly as he spread her legs with his foot. he brought his right hand in front of her hips, under dress, and up to the dampened crotch of her lacy panties. i can do better than that, he said as he ground his thick member against her ass. he began to manipulate her clitoris between his thumb and index finger. he stretched his middle finger forward to rub her damp slit. with his left hand he pulled her in closer to his groin. she felt him straining between her butt cheeks. she began to move against him letting go of a deep moan. damn, i'm horny, she thought. she felt her clit grow as middle his finger began to glide at her most intimate opening. with her hands clenching the links of the fence, spread eagle, she began to grind herself against his hand. he inserted his middle finger inside of her and she brought his left hand to her left nipple. he grasped her nipple first demonstrating with it what he would eventually to do to her honey button.

shit. don't stop...whatever you do, don't stop.

he felt his hand become wet from his ministrations, her liquid dripping into his palm. he smiled as he felt her come apart in his hand. her clitoris still swollen as the aftershocks from her orgasm gripped her in quick spasms. at the base of her ear, his tongue flicking at her lobe, he said, one.

the little black dress, Part I

she looked over her shoulder at the clock. damn. she thought. he should have been here by now. there was just enough time for her to head to the local club up the street to steal a drink before closing. she wasn't in the mood for the loud music and gyrating bodies. but after such a shitty night, she needed a good man like jack daniels, maybe even a military man like captain morgan, to take her mind off...him. she slipped a simple black dress over her lacy boy panties. she didn't dare bother with a bra. size be damned, her nipples were aroused. as she waited for...him, in just her panties, the cool, december air wafted over her nipples engorging them, making them grow in color and shrink in size. damn him.

she walked down the cobblestone street to the club. dreams, it was called. she was hoping that her dream would come true tonight. but, reminded of what her mother had told her since she was young, never pin your dreams to a man. she wanly smiled at the bouncer as he looked from her ID to her face and asked to molest the items in her clutch with his flashlight. gum, her debit card, three gold foil squares still attached to each other, a cell phone, and astroglide--the modern woman's survival kit. he gave her a sly smile as his eyes slid the length of her body. finally they settled on and bulged at the sight of her breasts. her mind chortled with laughter. yes she knew her dress was translucent in the light--it may have been simple but it wasn't boring. she was never boring. slowly she raised to her left hand and daintly placed it over her nipple and, in her best marilyn monroe voice, questioned, what? he cleared his throat and motioned her in with his flashlight.

with less than an hour left until closing time, the girl at the front desk flicked her hand toward the thumping music and drunken haze drifting through red, blue, and flashing stobe lights. she hated strobe lights. she pulled back a delicate barstool perched to watch the action on the dancefloor. the sitting areas as well as the spaces around the bar were mainly empty excepting for the women who where scattered about the cushions and chairs saving their last steps in pinching shoes for the trip to the car. a couple of them, in poor taste, had gone as far as to take their shoes off. she looked down at her own silver slippers with the three-inch french heel. she had tied the lacy silver strings just above her ankle to give her support. she loved heels. loved the way in which they pushed her chest forward and her ass out.

as the bartender brought her a triple shot of jack, neat, she watched anxious men fumble their drunken hands across drunken women's bodies in hopes of making a corporal connection that would last after they left the club.

please don't turn around yet. i know you know what you're doing in that dress. i know that you are an intelligent woman. i don't want to get to know your mind...tonight. but i would like to acquaint myself with your body.

she tried to turn her head to fix her tormentor with the icy club stare. every woman has one, it is the polite look that aims to kill men's confidence on sight...before she even utters a word.

i said don't turn around. lean back against my chest. she did as she was told immediately deciding that it wouldn't hurt to lead the man on. plus his aggressiveness was intriguing. i don't want to hurt you. i simply want to fuck you.

hmmm. she thought. quickly she snaked her arm around his neck to stroke his closely cropped hair. nice, a fresh haircut. and...he's tall. she thought about her wasted evening. she was sexually unfulfilled. but what if he's ugly? that's inconsequential. what if he has a little dick and can't fuck? that was the issue. slowly she drug her fingernails down his chest slowly turning herself on her barstool. he took a small step back anticipating her next move. in a fraction of a second, he was between her legs his sports jacket hiding her hand as she stroked his semi-erect shaft. lord have mercy. she thought as her eyelashes flickered up toward his face. she focused on his keen features. and i do repeat, lord have mercy.

follow me. she said already off the stool and looking over her shoulder using her swaying backside to entreat his compliance. he grabbed her wrist and yanked her hard against his body. for a moment she was fearful. oh shit. what have i gotten myself into? surely flyers looking for my missing body will be plastered on telephone poles from coast to coast. i wonder if they will ever catch him. she hit the solid wall of his chest and raised her head to look directly at his mouth. i promise you, if we do this my way, he said, this will be the best night of your life.

a decision

i was reading through my previous posts, specifically the BDRs. and i noticed a common thread running through almost all of the gross inept coital misfunctions i have been cursed to be a part of: male ejaculation . . . in my mouth. whether the incident occurred as a result of passive-aggressive hostility on his part or an accident, it NEVER should have happened. so i've decided from now on, the next dick that comes in my mouth, i am going to vomit on his stomach. if a man "acidentally" comes in my mouth, i will "accidently" put my two fingers down my throat and regurgitate his semen and whatever else comes up on his stomach. i'm tired of women thinking that they have to be men's sexual punching bags. are you fucking kidding me? we have a right to get what we want sexually, and if a man cannot provide that then onto the next. now, i admit my own failings in these instances to vocalize what was perfectly acceptable and what wasn't, however i think that women are socially programmed to ignore their own wants, desires, dislikes, and hell-nos in order to please a man and save his ego. well no more. i don't mind oral sex. i had a conversation with a friend of mine and she shared with me that she likes the feeling of a dick in her mouth. i must agree. for me, though, it is less about the feeling and more to do with the power that is associated with giving a man pleasure. every moan, every twitch, every "oh my g-d" gives me a sense of power. i know that i am doing that to him--me--not anyone else--me. what's more, it is so very arrousing. and then, there are just some penises that deserve to be worshipped. it's like going to church--you must worship at the dick altar--but those men are few and far between.

so i write this to fill in the missing discourse of women's desire. if a muthafucka comes in your mouth uninvited, why choose to swallow or discretely spit when you can vomit?

the beginning

red as a raspberry
waiting to be plucked
full of juice
that ran down his
arm when
gently, he placed his
thumb and index fingers
on the plump
ripe fruit
rolling,
testing,
feeling the
readiness of the
berry

tugged from
the bush,
the tip of his
tongue peeking through
his teeth in
concentration of his
delicate task
anticipating
the delicious nectar
slowly sliding down
his tongue to his throat
making him grow
from the
vibrant juice...
slowly he takes her
into his
mouth
Joy!!!
. . . the explosion of
the best she had to give
it was his to
remember
her
by

a statement of love

what do you do when someone you love is running themselves into the ground? do you watch them do it? do you stand idly by and not say a word as the person you love slowly loses control of his or her life? how do you intervene to make an impact? what words besides "i love you, please don't do this to me, to you, to the people who love you," can get that person to listen and stop such destructive behaviors that will surely lead to surely their demise and quite possibly their death? is it my fault? have i enabled such horrible behavior? did i cause it? is my constant presence "the straw that broke the camel's back?" can i alone make it better? what can i say that will get her to see what it is that i see--see her doing on a daily basis? is it hypocritical to see destructive behaviors in her and not name my own? how do i tell her that she has changed right before my eyes and none of it has been for the better? how can i fully live my life when i see that she is in so much pain? how can i live my life when i spend parts of my days and nightswondering if she is okay, where
she is,and if she will arrive to her home safely? how can i make her see that she has a beautiful soul? that she is highly gifted? that i love her beyond words, beyond her destructive behaviors, beyond my desire to see her change...and desire to see her change? how do i get her to open up to me and share with me the source of her depression? what words do i use? can i make her see what she is doing to herself, to me, to the people that love her? how do i move past my disappointment with her? how do i move past my disappointment with myself for not helping her? is this all she wants for her life? can i get her to desire more? what do i say to get her to understand that she is blowing her dreams, hopes, and prayers away like dandelions in the wind? ultimately, can i change another person? how do i do it? can it still be done if the person resists change? do i just walk away? is that being supportive? am i selfish for not wanting to make her problems my own? am i a bad person if i choose to just walk away? how do i get her to see the lovely black butterfly i see--and not the one she sees at the bottom of a beer can and the end of a cigarette? how many ways can i show that i love her? tell her that i love her? when do i stop crying about her destrction? when will it cease to matter to me? will it ever not matter to me? why do i love this strongly, this deeply, this abundantly? how do i stop hurting? when will i stop imagining the worst? when will i be able to talk about it to other people? how can i not show the source of my hurt to other people? why can't other people see that i am hurting? that there is a missing link in my life--one that i never mention? how do i save the most special person to me from the same hurt? how do i not kill her by degrees? how do i remain silent? who can i tell that won't judge me or her? when you are forbidden to tell secrets as a young child, how do you shake your home training? how do i stop the tears that have started to fall? how do i work my way out of my own depression with this hanging over my head? how do i not let it affect me? who i am? who i see myself becoming? who i want to be? how do i tell her i want her to come on my journey with me but not as the person she is now? how do i control my anger? how do i refrain from being pissed off? really pissed off? how do i hide this from my friends? how can i tell my story that impinges upon her story without them being swayed to protect me and thinking ill thoughts about her? how do i tell them that she is a part of me and i cannot give her up, will not give her up, and ultimately would give my life to end her suffering? what causes me to think this way, feel this way? how can i get her to embrace her own journey and out of this rut that threatens to take her life?

a holiday public service announcement

"Oh the weather outside is frightful, but inside it's so delightful..."

so i was thinking about how earlier this morning i decided that my honeypot was temporarily closed for business. that coupled with my early morning trek to pay my rent. it was my mistake that i didn't look outside before donning my big, black silk down-filled coat over my "Sex Week" t-shirt and pajama bottoms. i slipped my feet into a pair of flipflops and headed downstairs. damn if i didn't walk outside and there was snow on the ground. there was just a light dusting, but it was till cold as fuck. cold as fuck. cold, and still horny from last weekend's fiasco, i thought, what can i do with my evening? my roomie was out to work this evening, so tonight would be a good night to get something on with none other than my second favorite lay--me. my mind is kind of heavy with a bunch of other shit so i probably won't get it together until tomorrow, but i thought about reflecting on what i do to get myself off. i think of it as a kind of psa (public service announcement) for women who are looking for a new and unique way to achieve orgasm. the apparatus on the right is the soft touch acuvibe massager. i purchased mine from brookstone for about $50. it was well worth the financial investment. the acuvibe has two speeds--high and low. i bought the massager because of movie "brown sugar." in a scene with sanaa lathan and queen latifah. sydney (played by sanaa lathan) adamantly asserts that the above pictured beauty is a massager...from brookstone. queen's character, francine, taunts her with "high speed...low speed. high speed...low..." so i walked myself right on into brookstone to test the intensity of the massager. the low speed offers a deeper massage, the high speed offers intensity. i thought about buying the massager for over a month before i purchased it. the massager is AC powered and can detach from the cord, holding its charge for about an hour. let me now describe the other vital component to my self-loving arsenal.

So very important is the silver bullet. i first found out about the silver bullet at a production of the vagina monologues. there were a number of sex toys on sale and i asked my companion what one did with this little contraption. she said that i could use it one of two ways: 1) applied to my clitoris for surface stimulation or, 2) inside of my honeypot for internal stimulation. as you can see from the picture, the speed of the bullet can be gradually increased or decreased according to one's preference. it is a very potent toy. well worth the $6 i paid for it. in fact, i've bought three of them. it uses two AA batteries and cannot be used in or near water. while i have never applied the silver bullet to my clitoris, i am sure that it would deliver a hell of an orgasm. internally, it stimulates the g-spot and provides direct internal stimulation that is unlike, and actually more pleasureable i believe, than a dildo or vibrator. so the combination of these two doo-hickeys is quite pleasureable, indeed. so let's get down to how to use them, shall we?

first step: visual stimulation. i am a firm believer in porn, all kinds of porn. black porn, white porn, threesomes, swingers, virtually anything that shows another person in the place i want to be--in the midst of an orgasm. sometimes i might read erotic stories. the penthouse letters works nicely. i also have a book of erotic stories edited by zane. when i'm in a pinch the stories work well. i begin to read the stories before i actually do anything with the toys. i should probably back up and say that i put a few layers of towels on the bed in case i have an abundance of happy juice. so i turn on the flick. i am also rather afraid that my neighbors can hear the moans and groans of the porn actors so i turn the volume down rather low and watch what's going on in the movie. i always flip to what i like to call an inconsequential scene. i have a few favorite scenes (depending on my mood) and i never start with those scenes. i build my way up to them.

second step: once i have a bit of visual or mental stimulation, i insert the silver bullet. i set it to a very low speed. if i set it high, then it becomes annoying and slightly painful. my orgasm is a project that takes time, care, and consideration. once the bullet starts it whirring magic, i sit back and enjoy the movie for a bit. not too long, but often it depends on my mood and how long i want to prolong the inevitable.

third step: turn on "the massager . . . from brookstone." i apply it to my honey button--not directly. now i find a spot that feels good. as i become more aroused, i turn up the speed on the silver bullet. i turn to one of my favorite scenes and watch for a moment. soon, what's going on on the screen does not compare to the silken feeling of an impending orgasm. i close my eyes and the feeling gently ebb and crest over my body. i can achieve, roughtly, about three or four orgasms this way before the big one.

fourth step: in my orgasmic haze, i often turn the tv off so that i can focus my concentration on my last big orgasm. i can feel it brewing. i can feel my g-spot expand and fill. my eyes roll up in the back of my head. soft convulsions overtake me. i feel "it" coming. the pleasure warms me up. i kick the covers off of my body. a thin sheen of sweat covers me from head to toe. i begin to writhe and contort just slightly. intense contentment overtakes my brain as pleasure erupts from my honey button and slowly ripples over my entire body. i writhe. i stifle a moan. my face is drawn...eyes closed...mouth slightly open and pulling air in soft, ruptured gasps...i begin to see red...it's coming...now orange...shit it feels so good...now neon purple...i turn over onto my stomach...i feel the stimulation on both sides of my g-spot...white slashes into the purple...i'm almost there...my toes curl...oh my g-...fuck...my body bucks and i am transported to nirvana, bliss, floating in a place that has no time, no walls, no space. i let go and simply exist. and it feels good.

Errr....

so i have officially sworn off sex--or at least the pursuit of it. i asked mr. hawkins to bring me home from the airport after i returned from my trip. i thought surely we could begin a conversation about sex and us having some . . . together. boy was i wrong. it's not that i don't find him attractive. but everything that glitters ain't gold. we spent the better part of a twenty minute car trip talking about his ex-girlfriend and how, in their last conversation, he achieved closure. not so, rin tin tin. if fifteen minutes of the conversation was consumed by him telling me how he'd talked to this girl and she'd accused him of calling her a bitch and other unkind words then he isn't over her. he definitely won't be getting anything from me anytime in the near future--especially not a phone call.

i am definitely undersexed. but i think once i had sex at the beginning of november, it set me off on a manhunt. unfortunately, i hadn't had sex for three months prior to that. and then, i had gone . . . well shit, i don't remember. i want to say a couple of years or more, but i'm not sure. why is it that sex comes in spurts? i just want decent sex on the regular. that's it. i don't want a relationship, i don't want a man. i just want to get my rocks off on a regular basis. this relationship stuff is for the birds. women are supposed to want relationships, and love, and marriage, and kids. but, at this point in my life, i don't want love, marriage, or a relationship. i do want children, but you don't have to have a husband or a man to have kids. i can buy a frozen pop.

maybe i'm strange. i want intimacy without having to reveal myself to anyone. i can keep my sex life different from the intimacy that i have found with close friends. those two worlds don't have to cross each other. i am happy with my life. i don't want to sacrifice the person i am to become the person some man wants me to be. i don't do dishes and i'm not washing some man's dirty drawers. i want honest-to-God mutual respect. that only comes about once in every two hundred thousand blue moons. i refuse to spend my days looking for it. while i may not have the best sex everyday, maybe good sex will some day come my way. but for now, my honeypot is "temporarily closed."