You are currently browsing the monthly archive for July 2010.
The acrid stench
of dead animal was replaced by the clean, green scent of freshly cut grass as we rode through the Black Hills of South Dakota.
That’s the thing about being on a motorcycle – you get to experience everything without the confines or restrictions of a box of metal surrounding you. The good, the bad and the ugly of the environment assault your senses whether you like it or not. It’s a very cool way of life actually.
I gave up my 9 to 5 and box house in the suburbs, oh … probably about 6 years ago. I was done with the whole facade and ‘what would people think if’ attitude. So… I left. Took my old Harley Low Rider and said ‘Adios’ to it all. No feelings hurt… mutual understanding all the way, thank god.
I chased my rainbow across the country… Minnesota, Colorado, Montana… stopping only long enough to make some money to keep going. I became a vagabond and I thoroughly enjoyed the freedom of not having anyone but myself to answer to.
Then I met Steele. Oh, he was something to behold. Not drop dead movie star handsome, but … his mouth… oh… his mouth. One glance had me dripping into my lace thong.
He captured me… mind, body and Soul. And it wasn’t an easy capture.. Oh no.. I was a free spirit… no one was about to tame me. Hah… little did I know, how utterly and completely he would possess me!
The first time I saw him was on the Rocky Mountain range, just outside of Denver. I had stopped at a roadside burger joint for some lunch and to give my tired ass a long needed break. He was sitting outside on a dilapidated bench, eating a dish of ice cream.
His lips surrounding that spoon of chocolate sent lightning bolts directly to my clit and 
I found myself riveted to the sidewalk, mouth agape and exhaling quite loudly.
I couldn’t help myself, I started mimicking his movements … licking and biting my lower lip. Growing ever more unsteady on my feet, the sensuous actions of his mouth consumed me and my groin was set ablaze instantly, as if ignited by a flash inferno.
He raised his eyes to me, spoon mid-air nearly touching his beautiful, full lips… tongue ready to lick the creamy confection from it. I saw the glint of smug satisfaction shine in those eyes… shine with the knowledge that he was turning me on and I was mesmerized and hypnotized like a pauper finding a bag of gold.
His eyes were as intense as his mouth was erotic and I was ensnared like a fly on a spider’s web.
Watching me, he made love to that spoon … sucking languidly… wrapping his ample tongue deliberately around it. Drawing the ice cream in, he let a tiny drop run seductively down his chin and into his beard. I nearly pitched forward on the sidewalk with the avidity emanating from my body.
Extending his tongue fully, he captured the runaway ice cream… slowly licking and luring it back into his mouth. Then he turned the spoon backwards and flattened his tongue against it, releasing a long, low moan of enjoyment. Leaning his head back and closing his eyes, he pulled the spoon down until it was no longer connected to his tongue and he closed his lips for a honeyed moment.
I couldn’t breathe… the crushing ache … the overwhelming yearning in my body was screaming for his attention.
I wanted his tongue on me… on my body… between my legs… wrapping around me, sucking, drawing me in, swallowing me down. I wanted his lips on me and my lips on him. I wanted to do to his body, what he was doing to that ice cream. I wanted to wrap my lips around the sweetness of his cock and draw him down my throat. Drinking him in, like melting ice cream.
I knew how he would taste… like chocolate and juicy berries and salt and road and rocks and dirt and metal and leather and … lust. Yes, he would taste like lust…. because he was that intense. I could tell, just by looking at him… he exuded power.
I could feel him…. his hands on my body… wandering over my breasts, around my throat, into my hair. I could feel him inserting a finger inside me, rotating, cupping, moving back and forth, in and out. I could feel him… grabbing my ass and pulling my hips up to his, thrusting himself inside me … deep … inside me. I could feel his hardness, his urgency, his satisfying orgasm. Just by looking at him … I could feel him … everywhere.
I couldn’t stop staring and I didn’t care that my bold gaze might be turning awkward. I desired him … and I wanted him to know that I desired him.
He casually lifted his chin, raising an eyebrow and beckoned me with the slightest movement of his head … I needed no other invitation and I walked slowly towards the bench.
He gestured to the empty space next to him, inviting me to sit down. When I did, he lifted the spoon of ice cream to my mouth, offering to hand feed me what was left in the dish. I took the spoon in … never unlocking my eyes from his and I wrapped my lips around it, much like he had done earlier.
When he withdrew the spoon, he wiped my lips with his fingers, allowing them to linger there. My lips parted slightly of their own accord and the tip of my tongue whispered a touch upon them. The groans uttered in unison between us were our verbal marks of parallel cravings.
“What’s your name, Beautiful?”
“Jewel.”
“Well … Jewel … they call me Steele. I own a bar down the road and I have to get ready for Happy Hour. Would you care to ride along beside me and perhaps spend some time there, so we can get to know each other better?”
“Yes, Steele… I think I would like that very much.”
We each climbed on our motorcycles and rode down the street to his bar… that was five and a half years ago… and we are still celebrating that HAPPY HOUR together to this day.
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The Taste of Seduction
1 ounce Irish Cream
1 ounce Raspberry Liqueur
1 ounce Blackberry Liqueur
1 ounce Creme de Cacao
1/2 scoop Vanilla Ice Cream
1/2 cup of ice
Fill blender with all the ingredients and blend until smooth and creamy. Serve in a parfait glass. Garnish with a fresh raspberry and an optional mint leaf.
Enjoy!
My fingers assault
your pussy as I watch you writhe like a horizontal belly dancer on the cool cotton sheets; your arms raised above, holding the wrought iron scrolls in the headboard.
The soft moan escaping your lips is like music to my ears and I want this concert to go on all night.
I pull my fingers from you and raise them to my tongue, tasting, savoring the juices from your core… sweet honey apricot nectar flowing from a goddess. Licking them clean I watch you, watching me and your contented eyes and knowing smile inflame the fire in my belly.
I plunge my fingers back inside of you, eliciting a gasp and a rush of air from that mouth of yours that was just smiling at me, and it transforms my mouth into an upturned wicked decadent grin of lust and greed.
I want you in this state forever… this heightened state, this constant state of arousal. Under my touch, in my possession, under my control… I will give you what you need, when you need and how you need it… always.
You are MINE… and … I am yours.
I watch your body, a fine slick of perspiration blooms across it and I know you are almost there. I adjust the tempo of my fingers to match the gyration of your hips against the palm of my hand and I reach up with my other to pull at your nipple.
This small diversion from the direct pleasure in your groin pulls you back from the edge for a moment. Exactly where I want you… exactly where you need to be…
Delay and the prolonged intensity are almost too much for you to bear and you grunt in slight frustration as you grind harder into my hand. I admonish your greedy lust by withdrawing my fingers, grabbing a fistful of hair and hungrily taking your lips with my own in a rough, hedonistic kiss.
You impetuously release the headboard and pull my hips down onto yours, hastily reaching between my thighs and feeling my insistent hardness pushing against your skin and betraying my intentions.
Adjusting yourself underneath me, you thrust us together… the warm wet wonderland of you engulfs me completely and we dance to the carnal melody consuming our bodies.
Your tongue traces a line along my jaw and up to my ear in the salty sweat that has formed there and you murmur how good I taste.
Those words… your hot breath in my ear words… spin me to another dimension and I become intensely aware of the heat between our bodies. We are on fire, you and I and the friction of our skin is electric.
Every nerve is pulsing and I feel my climax building as I push myself into you. Lifting my hips, I can feel the clenching of your muscles grabbing the head of my cock and insisting I come back inside… and oh… I will gladly oblige.
I drive down hard in the culmination that is our union and you accept me openly and eagerly… for we have waited long for this moment, this peace of mind moment. We’ve talked and dreamed about this day … this day of coming together … of fulfillment. And now… here it is.
With you under me, my dreams have come true and it is a Happy Hour… indeed.
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Paradise
1 ounce Gin
1 ounce Apricot Brandy
1 ounce Orange Juice
squeeze of fresh Lemon Juice
Add ingredients to a mixing glass filled with ice. Stir. Strain into a chilled martini glass. Garnish with an orange slice.
Enjoy!
Please welcome …
Max
Peruse his blog … Thoughts from a Mystic Satyr …
his writing is amazing and will leave you wanting … more.
Thank you so much Max, for sharing Beach House with my readers.
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Time at a beach house
with the whole family is a good thing, but it’s hard to find alone time. So when I wake up with your warm body pressed into mine, my morning erection pressed into your soft ass, I’m more than ready. I hold you from behind and stroke you gently. You press back into me and groan softly when my lips find your neck. Your hips can’t help themselves, and I feel the slight backward thrusts into me…and I unconsciously match your rhythm, thrusting toward you.
You turn your head to whisper, “You know I want to, but the house is full of people. The kids in the next room through the paper-thin wall. Your parents downstairs….”
I continue kissing your neck, and our hips continue their dance as I think of how we could manage it. Then it comes to me. “The bathroom. It’s away from the other upstairs rooms, and if we’re quiet, no one downstairs will hear.”
You sound skeptical. “The bathroom? Where in that little bathroom?”
“Come on, I’ll show you.”
I throw the sheet off, and you can’t help but smile when you see my fully-erect cock spring free. “You really are insatiable, aren’t you?”
I just smile my evil grin, help you out of bed, and lead you into the bathroom. Closing the door, I pin you against the door for a kiss. My hands explore your body, still steamy warm from the bed, and one hand finally makes its way into your pajama bottoms. You break the kiss, still skeptical. “Where? How?”
I turn you away from me and guide you the two steps to the window. I grind my body into your back, then take your pajama bottoms down in one motion. You grab the window frame, quietly protesting. “Here in the window? You can’t be serious?!? Anyone walking past could see me.”
I bend you over, stroking your pussy from behind, talking quietly as I move. “No one’s going to see anything. No one’s out in the morning, and if anyone did walk past, they would just see you from the waist up, where you’re clothed.”
You don’t sound convinced, but you don’t stop me either. You’re bent at the waist, hands gripping the window frame, and I’m fingering you from behind. Moving closer, I withdraw my finger and guide my cock to your pussy. I rub the head of my cock up and down…back and forth…getting myself lubed with your wetness. I can feel the heat of your pussy and I’m desperate to be inside you.
I spread your legs a little wider and push forward with my hips. My cock-head penetrates you, and the warm wetness is delicious. You stop me after the first inch and adjust your position. You indicate that you’re comfortable, and I hold your hips firmly with both hands and thrust slowly and insistently into you.
I don’t stop thrusting until I’m balls deep, and it takes all my energy to keep from moaning out loud. I can tell you’re biting your lip and straining to keep quiet. I stay there for a moment, reveling in the sensations, and then I slowly withdraw…then slowly thrust in again. Part of me is hyper-aware of any sounds from the rest of the house, but another part of me is giddy with the thought of fucking you from behind, in the beach house window.
You know what a visual beast I am, and how much I love to watch my cock sliding in and out of you. We’re an erotic vision…your pussy grasping my cock…reluctantly letting it go…sliding out of you…rock hard, shiny from your flowing juices…the mushroom head appearing briefly, before I thrust into you again…inch after inch of my hard shaft sliding into you.
As much as I want to make this last, I also know that we should be quick, so I don’t try to prolong our lovemaking. I thrust harder and faster, and I know you’re having trouble keeping quiet. I grab your hips firmly and thrust hard. Your pussy feels like liquid fire, and your juices are flowing. Every stroke makes a wonderful squishing sound, and I can feel the wetness on my balls and thighs. I become aware that you’re moaning softly, and I whisper that we need to be quiet.
I feel my climax building at the base of my balls…rising…unstoppable…and then I’m cumming…my whole body tensing…savagely gripping your hips…shooting my pent up load deep into you. I stay there, locked together with you, as I start to come down. As I start to regain my senses, I can feel you climaxing around my cock…your breath coming in short urgent gasps. We come down gradually together, and I finally step back and let my slowly-deflating cock slide out of you. You turn and hug me tight, our lips meeting in a soft lingering kiss.
I’m happy, sated (for the moment,) and ready for a beach day with the family. You smack me on the ass and say with a grin, “That was good. But you’re *so* bad.”
I just smile, knowing I can’t argue.
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Beachcomber
2 ounces Citrus Rum
1/2 ounce Triple Sec
dash of Grenadine
splash of Sour Mix
Add ingredients to a rocks glass filled with ice. Shake.
Enjoy!
On the 4th of July… I was devastated by the crushing news of the death of a dear friend … independence day… how fucking ironic. I am having an extremely hard time trying to wrap my head around this, so I thought I would honor her in a poem, hoping to alleviate some grief. It really hasn’t helped me, as she took a piece of my heart with her… I keep finding myself moving back and forth between stages 1 and 2 of the 7 stages of grief. This is not going to be pretty.
This week is for moth… next week and possibly the week after … you will be delighted by an erotic guest post. I’ll be taking a short hiatus. Thanks for understanding.
(Underture)
Who will lament her
now that she’s gone…?
burned up in a fiery crash.
she lived in His mind
thriving on His attention
His instructions
His Power
His … Love.
she didn’t otherwise exist.
she lived for Him … only … as He desired.
she was the moth to the Flame
Drawn inexplicably, uncontrollably
against all better judgment
against all common sense
against all of society’s rules
she was the princess to the Dungeon Keeper
Drawn inexplicably, uncontrollably
to His instruments of capture
Drawn to His cage of confinement
~ put there because she was Valued ~
so as not to hurt herself
with her wild, careless ways.
Drawn to His padlocked steel
~ so she was virtually bound ~
in His Love
and by His need.
Drawn to His collar
~ that was worn proudly ~
T/their in your face Secret.
But, who will lament her now …
now that she has disintegrated to ash?
Wiped away from sight
Wiped away from memory
~ Banished from any physical existence ~
Killed before she could live
before she could pursue
the exquisite freedom she tasted
only briefly.
There was never enough time.
Time hurled T/them through the continuum…
constantly on fast forward.
Space warped for T/them
so T/they could connect
~ never knowing the reasons why ~
morphing experiences from
the reality of minutes
into the illusion of years.
And the dreams of a Lifestyle
the passions of Play
the reality of Restrictions
~ all these things ~
burned up in an instant.
So … who … who will lament her
now that she’s gone?
For only T/two knew she existed
and it was He
who could not rescue her
from that fiery crash
~ that He controlled ~
I ask You now…
Are bonds of the mind ~ stronger ~ than bonds of the flesh?
She could hear her own juices with each thrust
and she felt him thicken inside of her.
Moving slightly and arching her back just a bit, she tilted her pelvis and found the spot… the spot right where she could feel his shaft rub her clit with each stroke. Yes, that’s it… right there.
She was enjoying this movement, this position. It was a very good arrangement for her, lying on her left side, having him enter her from behind. She was getting lost in the rhythm, the cadence, the challenge of her own arousal.
She pulled forward just enough that his penis almost left her, but then constricted her inner walls and reared back to his base, making herself gasp with the deepness of the thrust. She pulled forward again, this time making short, concise orbits around the shaft’s head and provoking a feral moan so deep in her throat, it echoed off the walls of her psyche.
Closing her eyes and abstractedly crossing her wrists pulse point to pulse point, she could feel the rush of blood through her veins and her heartbeat quickened as she rocked on the staff that was inside of her. Pleasure bloomed across her flesh and the laboring exertion manifested itself in a sheen of sweat that blanketed her.
But this wasn’t enough… she desired more… she coveted mental stimulation, too … not just physical.
So, she rolled her hips and reached behind, circumnavigating her ass and grasped the base of his penis, holding him steady for just one moment. She ascended into her head and allowed her musings to complement the corporeal deed.
She envisioned them on a beach… white sand rough and grinding into her back as he nudged her knees apart and settled between her legs, crowding and churning himself into her. He was biting her nipples, pulling and twisting them between his teeth as the water licked at her feet like the tongues of ten men, and the ocean waves crashed onto the shoreline in thunderous echoes of their hedonistic act.
He was whispering in her ear… deliciously decadent titillating murmurs of lust and she writhed in ecstasy with the enticement, the siren song of seduction.
The crescendo was building in her mind … and her body.
She was almost there… almost… there…
“Jessica! Jessica… are you in there?” The brusque pounding on the bedroom door screeched into her thoughts like a train wreck.
“What?!?! I’m busy!”
“Come out here! Everyone’s arrived… oh… wait… are you in there with Fred?”
“Ya?… so?… what’s your point?”
“Jeez, girlfriend… give it a rest, will you? Come on out, we’re all waiting for you.”
“god… fine… alright… I’m coming.” Jessica withdrew from Fred and got out of bed, casting an ardent look over her shoulder. “I’m coming, Harry… tell everyone that I’ll be right out.”
Reluctantly dressing and walking across the floor, she turned around and looked longingly at Fred still laying there. Unlocking the door, she turned the knob slowly and pulled it open. She was surprised to find Harry still standing in the hallway.
“Are you alright, Jess?” Compassion oozed from his words as he wrapped a friendly arm around her shoulders. “Don’t worry, hon… I’ll tend to Fred… just put on your happy face and go greet the guests, okay?”
“Sure, Harry… thanks.”
Harry watched Jessica’s sullen retreat down the hallway, then swung his attention towards the bed.
“Okay, Fred… I told Jess that I’d take care of you… so, boyfriend… I shall keep my promise.”
Harry entered the bedroom, closing and locking the door behind him. He removed his shorts and climbed onto the bed and straddled Fred’s hips.
“I’m going to need a bit of lube, honey,” Harry drawled as he leaned over to the nightstand where he knew Jessica kept it.
He slathered his hand and Fred’s shaft profusely before lowering himself onto it. The entry into his rear end was smooth as silk and Harry groaned with pleasure.
“My goodness, Fred… you do feel good…it’s no wonder that Jess spends so much time with you.”
Harry undulated recklessly on Fred in a whirlwind of urgency, his ass grinding into Fred’s hips with spirited diligence. Grunting, Harry reached down between his legs and clutched his own balls, massaging, pulling and caressing them with deft fingers. He moved his hand up to his rigid penis and stroked it with concentrated intention, all the while corkscrewing on Fred’s proffered member.
Throwing back his head and enjoying the ride, Harry soon felt himself on the edge, where nothing else exists except the electricity in your brain and the fireworks behind your eyes. Harry quickly came with unbridled rapture, coating his legs and the sheets in milky white semen.
Gasping for breath and falling exhausted onto the bed, Harry rolled to lay on his back, sweat dripping down his temples. “Well, boyfriend, that was absolutely fabulous, we’ll have to do that again sometime.”
After a moment, Harry reached for the tissues and cleaned them both. Then he leaned across Fred’s chest and grabbed the remote control. He turned it to off and Fred stopped humming immediately. His rotating penis stopped twisting and started to deflate faster than a schoolgirl’s ego when passed over by her heartthrob crush.
Harry jumped out of bed and pulled the large storage box from the corner of the room. “Back inside you go, Fred. I don’t mean to fuck and run, but you understand, honey … it’s Happy Hour!”
He Said...She Said...