Sunday, September 30, 2007
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Fleshbot and Take Me Anywhere
This week’s Sex Blog Roundup at Fleshbot sends the kids out to play so that the grown-ups can have their fun. Which reminds me to ask: where are the geriatric sex bloggers? Lolita turned me on to the wonderful Sexagenarian and the City, but alas, Mimi keeps the dirty bits discreetly off stage. Maybe I could convince her write smut if we met? Hey yo, Mimi, gimme your digits.
In other Fleshbot news, my colleague Chelsea Girl has stepped down as co-editor of Sex Blog Roundup, citing “real life” as a cause. Apparently, having a real life can take time away from reading online smut—let us all take heed. Unpacking her red pencils at the freshly vacated roundup desk is the always floral Always Aroused Girl. This should be fun, as we know she enjoys getting you off.
Speaking of real life, thanks for your notes of concern about my computer woes. They have largely been solved, thanks to the ministrations of Wendy’s friend Franklin. He had recently found his new girlfriend at my orgy, so good things come around. I’m back online and marveling at the wonders of a much better machine than my previous antique. Did you know, for example, that online videos are not stop action animation?
If you have time in your real life to lend me a hand for an administrative task, drop a line. You’ll need to have Word and about four hours to spare. Thanks!
Those of you who enjoy stalking me can put aside any aspirations for a real life of your own, as I’m all over the blogs this week, particularly as stories emerge from the wilds of Dark Odyssey, aka sex camp.
Lolita and I celebrated our first anniversary—you may recall how we first bonded in a roll in the grass at sex camp last year. Paper is the traditional gift for a first anniversary, but we traded ours in denim, chains, and love.
Wendy recounts her nervousness as we arrived for her first day at sex camp. Her nerves subsided somewhat when she walked into our cabin and promptly fisted Selina. Honestly, I had not even finished unpacking the car.
Rope sister Jocasta now joins the ranks of sex bloggers with her own Venus Ropes: Enduring Passions and Passing Fancies. Drop by and tell her Jefferson sent you.
Meanwhile, back at Floating World, Bianca strips down for an audience at my class on g spots. Later, she takes her first flogging and caning and finds herself reacting in unexpected ways.
Eden also chases her nomadic g spot and finds it looking for her. It pays to keep faith.
Some things can be taught and others you learn for yourself. Bridget pouts when I refused to let her use my flesh for an impromptu hickey lesson. Fortunately, we found a better use her mouth and my body.
Anna Smash reveals the reason she keeps showing up at my door and introduces the smut stylings of her hot boyfriend Nick.
Finally, pay a visit with Madeline as she muses about being taken for my wife at events during a recent trip to New York. It’s funny yet melancholy to let that mistaken impression linger with people we don’t know, as it’s easier than swinging a casual conversation to the larger story. So as we pinged through a swank party, we nodded and smiled as one man said to her “I’ve heard so much about you” (he had not) and a woman assumed that Madeline is the mother of my children.
At times, we were involved in separate conversations. A man I had never met approached me to curtly assert, “Madeline is amazing. You must invite her back more often!” He then walked away, having made his point.
I found Madeline chatting with a very attractive colleague of mine. Of course, I like him for his mind, and as we have a professional relationship, we’ve never talked about personal matters.
Apparently, he doesn’t mind sharing. As I approached, I overheard him say to Madeline, “Yes, I shave, but only my testicles.”
“Me too,” she smiled. “I shave my labia, but leave a patch above.”
I was taken aback. “Honestly, I can’t take you anywhere.”
“Are you talking to me or him?” Madeline asked.
Classy lady, this one.
In other Fleshbot news, my colleague Chelsea Girl has stepped down as co-editor of Sex Blog Roundup, citing “real life” as a cause. Apparently, having a real life can take time away from reading online smut—let us all take heed. Unpacking her red pencils at the freshly vacated roundup desk is the always floral Always Aroused Girl. This should be fun, as we know she enjoys getting you off.
Speaking of real life, thanks for your notes of concern about my computer woes. They have largely been solved, thanks to the ministrations of Wendy’s friend Franklin. He had recently found his new girlfriend at my orgy, so good things come around. I’m back online and marveling at the wonders of a much better machine than my previous antique. Did you know, for example, that online videos are not stop action animation?
If you have time in your real life to lend me a hand for an administrative task, drop a line. You’ll need to have Word and about four hours to spare. Thanks!
Those of you who enjoy stalking me can put aside any aspirations for a real life of your own, as I’m all over the blogs this week, particularly as stories emerge from the wilds of Dark Odyssey, aka sex camp.
Lolita and I celebrated our first anniversary—you may recall how we first bonded in a roll in the grass at sex camp last year. Paper is the traditional gift for a first anniversary, but we traded ours in denim, chains, and love.
Wendy recounts her nervousness as we arrived for her first day at sex camp. Her nerves subsided somewhat when she walked into our cabin and promptly fisted Selina. Honestly, I had not even finished unpacking the car.
Rope sister Jocasta now joins the ranks of sex bloggers with her own Venus Ropes: Enduring Passions and Passing Fancies. Drop by and tell her Jefferson sent you.
Meanwhile, back at Floating World, Bianca strips down for an audience at my class on g spots. Later, she takes her first flogging and caning and finds herself reacting in unexpected ways.
Eden also chases her nomadic g spot and finds it looking for her. It pays to keep faith.
Some things can be taught and others you learn for yourself. Bridget pouts when I refused to let her use my flesh for an impromptu hickey lesson. Fortunately, we found a better use her mouth and my body.
Anna Smash reveals the reason she keeps showing up at my door and introduces the smut stylings of her hot boyfriend Nick.
Finally, pay a visit with Madeline as she muses about being taken for my wife at events during a recent trip to New York. It’s funny yet melancholy to let that mistaken impression linger with people we don’t know, as it’s easier than swinging a casual conversation to the larger story. So as we pinged through a swank party, we nodded and smiled as one man said to her “I’ve heard so much about you” (he had not) and a woman assumed that Madeline is the mother of my children.
At times, we were involved in separate conversations. A man I had never met approached me to curtly assert, “Madeline is amazing. You must invite her back more often!” He then walked away, having made his point.
I found Madeline chatting with a very attractive colleague of mine. Of course, I like him for his mind, and as we have a professional relationship, we’ve never talked about personal matters.
Apparently, he doesn’t mind sharing. As I approached, I overheard him say to Madeline, “Yes, I shave, but only my testicles.”
“Me too,” she smiled. “I shave my labia, but leave a patch above.”
I was taken aback. “Honestly, I can’t take you anywhere.”
“Are you talking to me or him?” Madeline asked.
Classy lady, this one.
Friday, September 28, 2007
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Business Time
Now playing requests; this one from Madeline. Now, where are my business socks?
Monday, September 24, 2007
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Fleshbot and French Toast
This week’s Sex Blog Roundup at Fleshbot takes a tour along the Hershey Highway with Madeline as your guide. The lady with the mirror was good enough to guest edit as I tended to computer woes and other matters. Thanks for pitching in, darling catcher. Come see me sometime, y’heah?
I was remiss in not posting last week’s Sex Blog Roundup, as I was missing in the woods of sex camp. Forgive me. How ironic that you were kept waiting, given the promise of getting what you want.
At camp, Lolita finds me making noise at a blow job contest, Viviane adds me to her list of highlights, and Marcus is appalled that I would do the unthinkable.
I would write more but I’ve got French toast to make from Challah raisin bread.
I was remiss in not posting last week’s Sex Blog Roundup, as I was missing in the woods of sex camp. Forgive me. How ironic that you were kept waiting, given the promise of getting what you want.
At camp, Lolita finds me making noise at a blow job contest, Viviane adds me to her list of highlights, and Marcus is appalled that I would do the unthinkable.
I would write more but I’ve got French toast to make from Challah raisin bread.
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Big Fish
Meg sent me this tune, so I looked into Jesca Hoop and found her onstage with the Ditty Bops at YouTube. I conjured Tom Waits and pondered the new kids who adore the Boswell Sisters and that's all I need.
Lillie and Madeline dig the kids in the video.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Body Man
The President of the United States has a body man. His body man is a personal assistant charged with the care of the man behind the office, the flesh-and-blood human who needs someone to fetch aspirin, remember appointments and hold his keys. The President’s body man takes care of such things so that the chief executive can focus on larger matters.
I have a body man. She’s my servant girl.
Eden originally came to me for sex, offering in return her body as my whipping post. She takes much more punishment from flogs, whips and fists than I was accustomed to giving. With her body as my guide, I’m learning to be more brutal. I’m grateful for this. I show my gratitude by keeping her orgasms and bruises fresh.
There are times when I am bruised. Eden understands this. She recently offered to go into service for me, with the implicit acknowledgment that at times, I must allow her to take care of me. I agreed, knowing that being cared for will help me to care for others.
Eden was unable to attend Dark Odyssey last week due to an unhappy convergence of too much school and too little money. I petted her hair and told her that I wanted her service on my return.
I had learned last year that Dark Odyssey—or sex camp, as it’s also called in the vernacular—can be a phenomenal immersion in sexual freedom and education. I had also learned that it can be draining, both physically and psychically. I could anticipate several days of grinding my stamina on too little rest, allowing my mind and libido to push my body’s limits. More so, I have begun to appreciate the crash that sometimes follows when I walk around as “Jefferson.”
My public appearances as Jefferson have been few but are increasingly common. I’m gaining confidence in this role. Certainly, I enjoy meeting people who read me and I revel in teaching the things I know about sex and sexuality. Still, I appreciate that every step I take in Jefferson’s boots, like every word I write under his name, comes with some risks. Being a public pervert may not be wise in many aspects of my life, not the least of which is my relationship with my ex wife. Lucy continues in her mission to convince people that her decision to destroy our marriage was sound, which means continuing her search for evidence that I am not a good person. If she were to suspect my life as a pervert, she would surely take vindictive action. As time passes, I wonder if perhaps she would do otherwise and simply let me be. But memories of her abuse don’t fade easily, and so that anxiety remains.
The dread of Lucy’s rage looms beyond every new smile I encounter, every new hand I shake.
Last Monday, I returned from camp at four in the morning. By five, the car was unloaded and garaged. I fell to sleep at dawn. At ten, I awoke and went to work. Wendy had returned home with me and crashed at my place. I left without disturbing her.
Eden was waiting when I returned home. She and Wendy were talking. We were hungry. I ordered Chinese. We ate and the three of us undressed and cuddled. In time, Wendy pulled together her bags to return to her home. Eden and I were alone in bed. I pulled my body close to hers.
She ran her fingers though my hair. “Are you okay?”
I nodded into her shoulder. “Tired. Worn out by people.” I traced a finger along the soft down of her belly. “There was so much sex, incredible stuff, but sometimes I wanted . . . this.”
“Intimacy,” she nodded, caressing me. “It’s okay to want intimacy.”
“Yeah, that’s it.” I took her breast in my mouth. She drew a long breath as my teeth sank into her, increasing in intensity until finally, she was released. She exhaled. I fingered the indentation of my teeth in her flesh.
She put her hand on my arm. “It sounds like you had fun, though.”
“I did. I really, really did.” I thought about the stories I could tell her. Tender stories, like waking with Viviane, holding Wendy after a beating or making love under a clear blue sky. Unexpected stories, like fisting a woman I had just met or crushing a young boy under my boots, digging my heels into his bound breasts and pushing my soles into his flaccid strap-on penis. Outrageous stories, like acting as master of ceremonies at a blowjob contest, putting on a live sex show or being hauled into the woods by a chain around my waist. Secret stories, like what happened when I was taken away, or the abduction I managed to execute in full view with no one’s knowledge.
I might have told her about my strategies for feeling comfortable as Jefferson. Sharing a cabin with twenty people who fucked openly and continuously, I preferred to take my sex privately. When the bodies piled on one another, I escaped into long walks. I would get blown in front of one class I was teaching, and I would bring six women to orgasms in front of another. Otherwise, I tended to keep sex between myself and one partner at a time.
I sorted out these stories and strategies, knowing Eden would be curious. But I was tired of words and wearied by the sound of my voice. My body ached. My mind slurred.
I kissed her. She wrapped her arms around me, pulling me close. I kissed my way down her neck, nibbling her torso, listening for her breath. I took her cunt in my mouth and made her cum, listening for the scream that is, for now, mine. I fucked her until I was exhausted by fucking.
I fell back on my pillows. She curled next to me, talking low. I nodded and replied in monosyllables.
She brought me a drink. She studied my body, pushing my hair from my face, turning my hands in her own. She went to my medicine cabinet to retrieve scissors and clippers. She trimmed my nose hairs. She gave me a pedicure. She rubbed my legs.
“Are you ready?” she asked.
“No.” I emptied my tumbler, swallowing slivers of ice. “Another drink. Three fingers.”
Eden smiled. “Two.”
I smiled. “Three.”
“My fingers are very big,” she noted.
“I’m well aware of the size of your fingers,” I said, holding forward my glass. “My thirst is also very big.”
She leaned forward, kissed me, and took my glass. At the door, she turned back to face me. “Two.”
“Brat,” I called after her. “Two and a half.”
I closed my eyes, waiting. She returned with a tall pour of bourbon.
“Ha!” I said taking the glass. “Four?”
“I got confused with all the math,” she laughed. “I think that’s two and a half.”
I took a deep sip and exhaled. “Okay, I’m ready.” I took another gulp and set aside the glass. I turned on my belly, holding a pillow to my body.
Eden left again, returning with a warm washcloth. I closed my eyes as she cleaned me. I sighed as her tongue found my ass. She had warned me when we met that she had some hard limits. Among these, she wouldn’t have her ass fucked. She wouldn’t rim anyone. Her throat could not be touched.
Now, her ass is mine to fuck. Her throat is mine to touch. Her mouth is mine to direct. Eden has come to a place where she does things she doesn’t do.
“That’s so good,” I moaned. My shoulders slumped forward, relaxing. Her tongue gave way to her fingers, which disappeared into my body—one, two, two and a half. My lower back clenched and released. My breathing slowed and deepened.
I turned on my hip and looked at her. “Okay.” I reached to touch her face, bringing her green eyes to mine. “I’m ready.”
She nodded. “Big or small?”
“Your small isn’t small. But it will do.” I rolled over on my back. “I want to see you. You are so pretty, Eden.”
She smiled. I took a few drinks as I watched her prepare.
When she was ready, she stood and looked at me. “Where . . . ?” she asked.
“Here,” I pointed. “Lay on your back, on my side of the bed.”
Eden lay back on my pillows, her sandy blond hair catching the light of my lamp. I leaned forward to kiss her, deep and long. I pulled back to caress her hair and smiled into her eyes.
I reached between my thighs and pulled her cock into me.
I lowered myself onto her as she pushed up into me, pivoting her hips slightly. “Shhh, shhh, let me,” I whispered. I rested my palms on her breasts, squeezing as I eased her into me.
Wearing a strap-on cock is the only act of topping that interests Eden. Her devotion to bottoming and service had led her to offer her cock to me. She knew that I enjoyed my experiences with Carlos, and if there was a service she could provide, she wanted to make it available.
I understood the generosity of her offer. I cherished it. It seemed that my writing about Carlos was read by some as a cri de coeur, a plea to be fucked, and by others as the beginning of open season on my ass. Eden understood that this was not a notch on her dildo. This was something she could give that I was prepared to take.
Riding her cock, I looked down at her pretty face, her eyes so intent on me and my sensation. I was exhausted and a little drunk, yet I felt entirely safe and at peace.
I began to cry.
My emotions had been tangled in all that had happened over the weekend, in all the kindnesses done for me, in all the good things people had done for one another, in all the ways my body was moved and touched. My sensations and feelings had also been kept guarded, as I avoided any missteps that might foment drama or unhappiness in others. I had locked up my anxieties about the risks I take in being Jefferson, about the fragility of the life I build so long as it is still in my ex’s power to do harm to me or my children.
Eden’s face became concerned. She touched my hips. “Are you okay?”
“I’m sorry,” I wept. “I just feel very lucky.”
“Oh my God,” she sniffled, her eyes tearing. “If you cry, I’m going to cry.”
I laughed over my sobs. “So cry!”
In my bed, my servant girl and I cried and kissed as she fucked me. I caressed her face, licking the salt from her cheeks.
Layers of vulnerability fell from me.
I realized how badly I needed to rest.
My crying subsided. I squeezed my nose, wiping snot on my thigh. “Ugh, disgusting,” I winced, coughing a sob. “I’m covered in snot and lube. Do you want to shower?”
“No.” Eden’s eyes grew large. “Let’s take a bath.”
When had I last taken a bath? I lit a candle. We soaked side by side. I don’t recall a word we said.
We made the bed with flannel sheets. I slept.
I have a body man. She’s my servant girl.
Eden originally came to me for sex, offering in return her body as my whipping post. She takes much more punishment from flogs, whips and fists than I was accustomed to giving. With her body as my guide, I’m learning to be more brutal. I’m grateful for this. I show my gratitude by keeping her orgasms and bruises fresh.
There are times when I am bruised. Eden understands this. She recently offered to go into service for me, with the implicit acknowledgment that at times, I must allow her to take care of me. I agreed, knowing that being cared for will help me to care for others.
Eden was unable to attend Dark Odyssey last week due to an unhappy convergence of too much school and too little money. I petted her hair and told her that I wanted her service on my return.
I had learned last year that Dark Odyssey—or sex camp, as it’s also called in the vernacular—can be a phenomenal immersion in sexual freedom and education. I had also learned that it can be draining, both physically and psychically. I could anticipate several days of grinding my stamina on too little rest, allowing my mind and libido to push my body’s limits. More so, I have begun to appreciate the crash that sometimes follows when I walk around as “Jefferson.”
My public appearances as Jefferson have been few but are increasingly common. I’m gaining confidence in this role. Certainly, I enjoy meeting people who read me and I revel in teaching the things I know about sex and sexuality. Still, I appreciate that every step I take in Jefferson’s boots, like every word I write under his name, comes with some risks. Being a public pervert may not be wise in many aspects of my life, not the least of which is my relationship with my ex wife. Lucy continues in her mission to convince people that her decision to destroy our marriage was sound, which means continuing her search for evidence that I am not a good person. If she were to suspect my life as a pervert, she would surely take vindictive action. As time passes, I wonder if perhaps she would do otherwise and simply let me be. But memories of her abuse don’t fade easily, and so that anxiety remains.
The dread of Lucy’s rage looms beyond every new smile I encounter, every new hand I shake.
Last Monday, I returned from camp at four in the morning. By five, the car was unloaded and garaged. I fell to sleep at dawn. At ten, I awoke and went to work. Wendy had returned home with me and crashed at my place. I left without disturbing her.
Eden was waiting when I returned home. She and Wendy were talking. We were hungry. I ordered Chinese. We ate and the three of us undressed and cuddled. In time, Wendy pulled together her bags to return to her home. Eden and I were alone in bed. I pulled my body close to hers.
She ran her fingers though my hair. “Are you okay?”
I nodded into her shoulder. “Tired. Worn out by people.” I traced a finger along the soft down of her belly. “There was so much sex, incredible stuff, but sometimes I wanted . . . this.”
“Intimacy,” she nodded, caressing me. “It’s okay to want intimacy.”
“Yeah, that’s it.” I took her breast in my mouth. She drew a long breath as my teeth sank into her, increasing in intensity until finally, she was released. She exhaled. I fingered the indentation of my teeth in her flesh.
She put her hand on my arm. “It sounds like you had fun, though.”
“I did. I really, really did.” I thought about the stories I could tell her. Tender stories, like waking with Viviane, holding Wendy after a beating or making love under a clear blue sky. Unexpected stories, like fisting a woman I had just met or crushing a young boy under my boots, digging my heels into his bound breasts and pushing my soles into his flaccid strap-on penis. Outrageous stories, like acting as master of ceremonies at a blowjob contest, putting on a live sex show or being hauled into the woods by a chain around my waist. Secret stories, like what happened when I was taken away, or the abduction I managed to execute in full view with no one’s knowledge.
I might have told her about my strategies for feeling comfortable as Jefferson. Sharing a cabin with twenty people who fucked openly and continuously, I preferred to take my sex privately. When the bodies piled on one another, I escaped into long walks. I would get blown in front of one class I was teaching, and I would bring six women to orgasms in front of another. Otherwise, I tended to keep sex between myself and one partner at a time.
I sorted out these stories and strategies, knowing Eden would be curious. But I was tired of words and wearied by the sound of my voice. My body ached. My mind slurred.
I kissed her. She wrapped her arms around me, pulling me close. I kissed my way down her neck, nibbling her torso, listening for her breath. I took her cunt in my mouth and made her cum, listening for the scream that is, for now, mine. I fucked her until I was exhausted by fucking.
I fell back on my pillows. She curled next to me, talking low. I nodded and replied in monosyllables.
She brought me a drink. She studied my body, pushing my hair from my face, turning my hands in her own. She went to my medicine cabinet to retrieve scissors and clippers. She trimmed my nose hairs. She gave me a pedicure. She rubbed my legs.
“Are you ready?” she asked.
“No.” I emptied my tumbler, swallowing slivers of ice. “Another drink. Three fingers.”
Eden smiled. “Two.”
I smiled. “Three.”
“My fingers are very big,” she noted.
“I’m well aware of the size of your fingers,” I said, holding forward my glass. “My thirst is also very big.”
She leaned forward, kissed me, and took my glass. At the door, she turned back to face me. “Two.”
“Brat,” I called after her. “Two and a half.”
I closed my eyes, waiting. She returned with a tall pour of bourbon.
“Ha!” I said taking the glass. “Four?”
“I got confused with all the math,” she laughed. “I think that’s two and a half.”
I took a deep sip and exhaled. “Okay, I’m ready.” I took another gulp and set aside the glass. I turned on my belly, holding a pillow to my body.
Eden left again, returning with a warm washcloth. I closed my eyes as she cleaned me. I sighed as her tongue found my ass. She had warned me when we met that she had some hard limits. Among these, she wouldn’t have her ass fucked. She wouldn’t rim anyone. Her throat could not be touched.
Now, her ass is mine to fuck. Her throat is mine to touch. Her mouth is mine to direct. Eden has come to a place where she does things she doesn’t do.
“That’s so good,” I moaned. My shoulders slumped forward, relaxing. Her tongue gave way to her fingers, which disappeared into my body—one, two, two and a half. My lower back clenched and released. My breathing slowed and deepened.
I turned on my hip and looked at her. “Okay.” I reached to touch her face, bringing her green eyes to mine. “I’m ready.”
She nodded. “Big or small?”
“Your small isn’t small. But it will do.” I rolled over on my back. “I want to see you. You are so pretty, Eden.”
She smiled. I took a few drinks as I watched her prepare.
When she was ready, she stood and looked at me. “Where . . . ?” she asked.
“Here,” I pointed. “Lay on your back, on my side of the bed.”
Eden lay back on my pillows, her sandy blond hair catching the light of my lamp. I leaned forward to kiss her, deep and long. I pulled back to caress her hair and smiled into her eyes.
I reached between my thighs and pulled her cock into me.
I lowered myself onto her as she pushed up into me, pivoting her hips slightly. “Shhh, shhh, let me,” I whispered. I rested my palms on her breasts, squeezing as I eased her into me.
Wearing a strap-on cock is the only act of topping that interests Eden. Her devotion to bottoming and service had led her to offer her cock to me. She knew that I enjoyed my experiences with Carlos, and if there was a service she could provide, she wanted to make it available.
I understood the generosity of her offer. I cherished it. It seemed that my writing about Carlos was read by some as a cri de coeur, a plea to be fucked, and by others as the beginning of open season on my ass. Eden understood that this was not a notch on her dildo. This was something she could give that I was prepared to take.
Riding her cock, I looked down at her pretty face, her eyes so intent on me and my sensation. I was exhausted and a little drunk, yet I felt entirely safe and at peace.
I began to cry.
My emotions had been tangled in all that had happened over the weekend, in all the kindnesses done for me, in all the good things people had done for one another, in all the ways my body was moved and touched. My sensations and feelings had also been kept guarded, as I avoided any missteps that might foment drama or unhappiness in others. I had locked up my anxieties about the risks I take in being Jefferson, about the fragility of the life I build so long as it is still in my ex’s power to do harm to me or my children.
Eden’s face became concerned. She touched my hips. “Are you okay?”
“I’m sorry,” I wept. “I just feel very lucky.”
“Oh my God,” she sniffled, her eyes tearing. “If you cry, I’m going to cry.”
I laughed over my sobs. “So cry!”
In my bed, my servant girl and I cried and kissed as she fucked me. I caressed her face, licking the salt from her cheeks.
Layers of vulnerability fell from me.
I realized how badly I needed to rest.
My crying subsided. I squeezed my nose, wiping snot on my thigh. “Ugh, disgusting,” I winced, coughing a sob. “I’m covered in snot and lube. Do you want to shower?”
“No.” Eden’s eyes grew large. “Let’s take a bath.”
When had I last taken a bath? I lit a candle. We soaked side by side. I don’t recall a word we said.
We made the bed with flannel sheets. I slept.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Tumbleweeds
My apologies for the tumbleweeds around these parts. The kids are back in school, I was offline at sex camp, and now I'm busy with work. On top of all that, my computer is on the fritz. Don't fret, we'll get the steam running soon enough.
You know that laptop you don't use? Give it to me. Now.
You know that laptop you don't use? Give it to me. Now.
Sunday, September 09, 2007
Fleshbot and Timing
This week’s Sex Blog Roundup at Fleshbot is all about timing. I’m sure that thought has you quivering with antici . . .
Those of you who enjoy stalking me will find
Bianca arriving early for Floating World in order to get a private tutorial in deep throat and g spot stimulation.
At Floating World, Eden gets blissed as she is tied and suspended as Jocasta shows me the ropes. Eden also does me the kindness of lacing my boots, an act of service for which she is repaid with various cruelties.
A reader has pointed out that I missed posting a link to Eden’s tale of our sacrifice of a virginity. Sorry for the oversight. I do endeavor to be comprehensive.
Finally, congratulations to Viviane and our colleagues at Viviane’s Sex Carnival for winning honors at the Erotic Awards for sex blog of the year. Cheers!
Oh yes, lest I forget . . . pation.
Those of you who enjoy stalking me will find
Bianca arriving early for Floating World in order to get a private tutorial in deep throat and g spot stimulation.
At Floating World, Eden gets blissed as she is tied and suspended as Jocasta shows me the ropes. Eden also does me the kindness of lacing my boots, an act of service for which she is repaid with various cruelties.
A reader has pointed out that I missed posting a link to Eden’s tale of our sacrifice of a virginity. Sorry for the oversight. I do endeavor to be comprehensive.
Finally, congratulations to Viviane and our colleagues at Viviane’s Sex Carnival for winning honors at the Erotic Awards for sex blog of the year. Cheers!
Oh yes, lest I forget . . . pation.
Friday, September 07, 2007
Thursday, September 06, 2007
Monday, September 03, 2007
Fuck Me, Boy
Carlos leaned back on my couch, fully dressed. He caught his breath after a full day’s work. A glass of cold water sweated on the coffee table.
Our third date was almost routine. There was a nice domestic quality to awaiting his arrival, watching him relax and hearing about his day. I could imagine massaging his temples as he sipped a martini before sitting down to my home cooking.
However, I knew better than to harbor wifely fantasies about the man who fucked me.
Carlos already had one lover who was eager to be his boyfriend, and another who was a good friend. I was fitting into his life as a regular cocktail-hour lay between leaving his office and returning to the apartment he shared with his younger brother. Living with family curtailed his availability for late nights and sleepovers, and made it impossible to bring home dates. I had the time and place to offer him good solid sex.
Our relationship was not merely one of convenience, but it certainly didn’t hurt that it was convenient.
It worked for me as well. I liked that I could get in some hot sex with a boy who got me going before getting on with my evening plans, which, admittedly, generally revolved around hot sex. I liked that he enjoyed being with me and kept coming back for more, as that allowed me to think about ways I wanted to be with him.
He allowed the conversation to lapse and leaned forward to kiss me. I allowed him to take the lead; it felt good to know he wanted me.
I caught myself smiling as he kissed my teeth.
“C’mon.” I took his hand and pulled him to the bedroom. I undressed him, running my hands over each area of his body to be exposed to my touch. I kissed his body as he stood, his hand resting on my shoulder. He taste was becoming familiar to me, and that only increased my hunger.
I pushed him on to the bed, barely acknowledging him as I continued with his body. I could sense his withdrawal into passivity, his surrender to my mouth.
I lingered across his ribs, admiring how they vanished into his latissimus dorsi. I nibbled lightly on the muscle, watching it twitch in response, feeling his lungs fill and empty.
I turned to watch my finger traced its way lightly between his buttocks, looking back to see his head turn in response.
If Carlos were to stay over, this is how I would pass hours, touching him, looking at him, watching how his body responds to sleep.
His passivity aroused this desire to take my time, as if he had departed the room and left behind his body for my delectation.
I turned him, burrowing my nose into the canal of his spine. I bit his shoulder, leaning close to hear his breath.
“Carlos,” I whispered, having nothing further to add.
He opened his eyes and twisted around to kiss me. I took him in my arms, pressing close. One day, Carlos will fall in love. That man will be lucky to have ardor added to Carlos’s sweet sensuality.
Carlos turned me in his arms. He pressed into my back, rubbing his cock against my ass. His hands found my chest.
“No, wait.” I turned to look at him. “You’re beautiful and I want to watch you.” I pulled him onto me, looking at his face as I rubbed the stubble of his haircut. I kissed him again, gently, and reached for a condom.
He held back my thighs and lubed me. I put my hands behind my neck, watching as he rolled on the condom. I ran my foot along his cheek and down his smooth chest.
I gasped as he entered me.
He stopped. “You okay?”
I huffed and nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay. Fuck me, handsome.”
He pressed forward, filling me. My body seared.
He folded me back, pulling my legs to rest on his shoulder. I touched his face and nodded, meaning I didn’t know what, except that I wanted him, very much.
He rocked me back and forth as we fucked. As I relaxed he began to thrust harder.
How often had I had someone where he now had me? How rarely had I been there?
He kept his eyes on mine. I didn’t want to blink for missing a moment of his intent. I wanted him to fuck me.
I wanted to fuck him.
“Carlos,” I said, looking at him. He nodded, not replying, just fucking me.
I couldn’t stand being immobile, so far from his lips. “Carlos, wait. Pull out.”
“You’re okay?” he asked, falling back.
“Yes.” I pulled myself up. “I’m just so hot for you right now. We need to kiss.” I pushed him back and lay over him. I dropped my mouth to his, sighing as he opened to me.
I pulled my knees forward and sat up. My eyes dropped to his torso, my hands against his flesh. I took his eyes in mine again. Wordlessly, I slipped two fingers into his mouth. His eyes closed as he felt me against his tongue.
With my other hand, I reached down and returned his cock to my body.
I pushed my hips back and forth, pumping him in me. His eyes opened to watch me moving on his body. I put my free hand on his shoulder and squeezed.
I fell forward, taking my fingers from his mouth, taking his mouth in mine.
I held his face between my hands, growling into him as my hips pressed him into me.
I squeezed his cheeks and scowled. “You need to fuck me, boy. Like you fucking mean it. Now.”
His eyes sparked. He grabbed my thighs with his full strength and pressed up into me. I flexed around his cock, tugging him deeper into me.
I punched his chest with my fist. “Harder.”
Carlos realized I had him pinned. He struggled, pushing against me. I hit him again and grabbed his face. “No. Behave. You fuck me.”
His face flushed. He couldn’t make sense of this. In his experience, you either topped or bottomed. He had his cock in my ass, so he was topping. But I wasn’t bottoming. I was getting fucked, and I was topping.
I released his face and gently caressed his hair. I rested my thumbs on his eyebrows and smiled at him.
My desire for his body had not subsided in the least. Now, I also wanted his mind.
I leaned forward again, kissing him, gently gyrating my hips to fuck him with my ass. I gradually increased my speed. I flexed my hole, pumping him.
My lips left his. I dropped my forehead against his, closing my eyes, focused on his body in mine. I inhaled every breath he exhaled.
He couldn’t take anymore. He grabbed my shoulders and pushed me. I fell away willingly.
He pulled off his condom and crouched over my face, jerking furiously. I pushed my head into his thigh, caressing him with my hair. I raised my hands to hold his waist as he came on his chest and my face.
He gasped. I realized that he held his breath as he orgasmed.
I wiped my face with my hand and pulled him down to my kiss.
I washed my face and left him to shower alone. I wanted to soap him. I wanted to bath him, by candlelight.
But I’m smart. I save some fantasies. I wanted to savor the afterglow of this one.
That night, Madeline called.
“How’s your day, darlin’?”
“I’m having a great day. I now know how I like to get fucked.”
“Really? And how, pray tell, is that?”
“I dom with a dick in my ass.”
“Oh, honey, that’s great,” she laughed. “Carlos is so hot.”
“Carlos,” I nodded. “Is so hot.”
Our third date was almost routine. There was a nice domestic quality to awaiting his arrival, watching him relax and hearing about his day. I could imagine massaging his temples as he sipped a martini before sitting down to my home cooking.
However, I knew better than to harbor wifely fantasies about the man who fucked me.
Carlos already had one lover who was eager to be his boyfriend, and another who was a good friend. I was fitting into his life as a regular cocktail-hour lay between leaving his office and returning to the apartment he shared with his younger brother. Living with family curtailed his availability for late nights and sleepovers, and made it impossible to bring home dates. I had the time and place to offer him good solid sex.
Our relationship was not merely one of convenience, but it certainly didn’t hurt that it was convenient.
It worked for me as well. I liked that I could get in some hot sex with a boy who got me going before getting on with my evening plans, which, admittedly, generally revolved around hot sex. I liked that he enjoyed being with me and kept coming back for more, as that allowed me to think about ways I wanted to be with him.
He allowed the conversation to lapse and leaned forward to kiss me. I allowed him to take the lead; it felt good to know he wanted me.
I caught myself smiling as he kissed my teeth.
“C’mon.” I took his hand and pulled him to the bedroom. I undressed him, running my hands over each area of his body to be exposed to my touch. I kissed his body as he stood, his hand resting on my shoulder. He taste was becoming familiar to me, and that only increased my hunger.
I pushed him on to the bed, barely acknowledging him as I continued with his body. I could sense his withdrawal into passivity, his surrender to my mouth.
I lingered across his ribs, admiring how they vanished into his latissimus dorsi. I nibbled lightly on the muscle, watching it twitch in response, feeling his lungs fill and empty.
I turned to watch my finger traced its way lightly between his buttocks, looking back to see his head turn in response.
If Carlos were to stay over, this is how I would pass hours, touching him, looking at him, watching how his body responds to sleep.
His passivity aroused this desire to take my time, as if he had departed the room and left behind his body for my delectation.
I turned him, burrowing my nose into the canal of his spine. I bit his shoulder, leaning close to hear his breath.
“Carlos,” I whispered, having nothing further to add.
He opened his eyes and twisted around to kiss me. I took him in my arms, pressing close. One day, Carlos will fall in love. That man will be lucky to have ardor added to Carlos’s sweet sensuality.
Carlos turned me in his arms. He pressed into my back, rubbing his cock against my ass. His hands found my chest.
“No, wait.” I turned to look at him. “You’re beautiful and I want to watch you.” I pulled him onto me, looking at his face as I rubbed the stubble of his haircut. I kissed him again, gently, and reached for a condom.
He held back my thighs and lubed me. I put my hands behind my neck, watching as he rolled on the condom. I ran my foot along his cheek and down his smooth chest.
I gasped as he entered me.
He stopped. “You okay?”
I huffed and nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay. Fuck me, handsome.”
He pressed forward, filling me. My body seared.
He folded me back, pulling my legs to rest on his shoulder. I touched his face and nodded, meaning I didn’t know what, except that I wanted him, very much.
He rocked me back and forth as we fucked. As I relaxed he began to thrust harder.
How often had I had someone where he now had me? How rarely had I been there?
He kept his eyes on mine. I didn’t want to blink for missing a moment of his intent. I wanted him to fuck me.
I wanted to fuck him.
“Carlos,” I said, looking at him. He nodded, not replying, just fucking me.
I couldn’t stand being immobile, so far from his lips. “Carlos, wait. Pull out.”
“You’re okay?” he asked, falling back.
“Yes.” I pulled myself up. “I’m just so hot for you right now. We need to kiss.” I pushed him back and lay over him. I dropped my mouth to his, sighing as he opened to me.
I pulled my knees forward and sat up. My eyes dropped to his torso, my hands against his flesh. I took his eyes in mine again. Wordlessly, I slipped two fingers into his mouth. His eyes closed as he felt me against his tongue.
With my other hand, I reached down and returned his cock to my body.
I pushed my hips back and forth, pumping him in me. His eyes opened to watch me moving on his body. I put my free hand on his shoulder and squeezed.
I fell forward, taking my fingers from his mouth, taking his mouth in mine.
I held his face between my hands, growling into him as my hips pressed him into me.
I squeezed his cheeks and scowled. “You need to fuck me, boy. Like you fucking mean it. Now.”
His eyes sparked. He grabbed my thighs with his full strength and pressed up into me. I flexed around his cock, tugging him deeper into me.
I punched his chest with my fist. “Harder.”
Carlos realized I had him pinned. He struggled, pushing against me. I hit him again and grabbed his face. “No. Behave. You fuck me.”
His face flushed. He couldn’t make sense of this. In his experience, you either topped or bottomed. He had his cock in my ass, so he was topping. But I wasn’t bottoming. I was getting fucked, and I was topping.
I released his face and gently caressed his hair. I rested my thumbs on his eyebrows and smiled at him.
My desire for his body had not subsided in the least. Now, I also wanted his mind.
I leaned forward again, kissing him, gently gyrating my hips to fuck him with my ass. I gradually increased my speed. I flexed my hole, pumping him.
My lips left his. I dropped my forehead against his, closing my eyes, focused on his body in mine. I inhaled every breath he exhaled.
He couldn’t take anymore. He grabbed my shoulders and pushed me. I fell away willingly.
He pulled off his condom and crouched over my face, jerking furiously. I pushed my head into his thigh, caressing him with my hair. I raised my hands to hold his waist as he came on his chest and my face.
He gasped. I realized that he held his breath as he orgasmed.
I wiped my face with my hand and pulled him down to my kiss.
I washed my face and left him to shower alone. I wanted to soap him. I wanted to bath him, by candlelight.
But I’m smart. I save some fantasies. I wanted to savor the afterglow of this one.
That night, Madeline called.
“How’s your day, darlin’?”
“I’m having a great day. I now know how I like to get fucked.”
“Really? And how, pray tell, is that?”
“I dom with a dick in my ass.”
“Oh, honey, that’s great,” she laughed. “Carlos is so hot.”
“Carlos,” I nodded. “Is so hot.”
Sunday, September 02, 2007
Saturday, September 01, 2007
Genie
He hadn’t meant anything by it. Carlos came over to be photographed and maybe have some sex. It was a simple hook up with a camera thrown in.
That simplicity took a different turn when he fucked me. He had given it to me hard, making me cry out as he pulled my hair and came in my face. He was surprised by what that brought out in him.
I was no less surprised by what it brought out in me.
When he was in my bedroom, nude, under my body, stretched out before my camera, I felt entirely at ease. His beauty was soothing and made me feel confident; far from being intimidated by beauty, I am inspired by it. I could shape and mold his flesh to suit my inspiration in the moment.
He was undressed because I undressed him. He gave me kisses because I took them. He flinched under my bites and nibbles, his cock throbbing. My mouth and hands took him to precisely where I wanted him to be. In those moments with Carlos, I was practiced, assured and unrushed, an artist applying well-honed skills to his craft.
This was before he flipped me over and fucked me. As he pushed into me, pinning down my neck, I was momentarily stunned. This never happened—not the fucking, not the loss of composure, not the surrender of my body. Even more unfamiliar was the sense that I wanted it in that moment, badly, and wanted more of it, immediately.
I would see him again. I might even get fucked again. I didn’t regard getting fucked as an act of submission any more than I regarded fucking as an act of domination. Topping or bottoming are not innately acts of dominance or submission.
Even so, I had to wrap my mind around the sensation I felt in that moment when he flipped me. From my place of confidence and strength as I devoured his beauty—that familiar creative zone of domination—I was turned around and made his prey. He had wanted to take me just as intently as I had wanted to take him.
I wanted more of that.
So far as I knew, Carlos had no interest in anything having to do with domination or submission. He may have just been passive by nature and suddenly felt like fucking. But the raw surge of desire I felt as he fucked me, and the ferocity of his response to it, had clearly affected him as well.
True to form, I gravitated back to the top in my subsequent exchanges with Carlos. The prospect of seeing him again had my creative juices flowing. Without quite meaning to, Carlos was pushing me to want something new with him. I wondered if I could push him as well.
Jefferson: Have you ever been with a girl, Carlos?
Carlos: LOL. No, why?
Jefferson: I want you to fuck a girl for me. How about Tuesday?
Carlos: Are you serious? I don’t know . . .
Jefferson: It’s easy as pie. She’s very pretty—green eyes, sandy blonde hair, your age. You’ll be helping me out, since she has a fantasy about taking a gay boy’s virginity.
Carlos: LOL.
Jefferson: Do me this favor.
Carlos: Maybe I’ll just do you instead.
Jefferson: Carlos, God damn it, can’t you please just do what I tell you to do? Please? How fucking hard is that?
Carlos: LOL.
I had to accept that Carlos might not take my bait. At least, not yet. We barely knew one another, so I would just have to wait to find out if he was interested in allowing me to direct him to new experiences. That is, if I continued to hold his interest at all. Still, I couldn’t let rest my compulsion to test the edges of his susceptibility to suggestion.
Jefferson: I want you to come to the next meeting of my Bukkake Social Club.
Carlos: Bukkake?
Jefferson: Yes. You and a bunch of boys will watch me fuck a girl. The boys are all cool and most are bisexual. Eventually, they all jerk off and cum on the girl.
Carlos: Hot!!
Jefferson: Right? It’s damned hot. And I promise, I won’t make you fuck the girl.
Carlos: LOL. Cool, sounds good.
I considered this a good compromise. He might have had it in mind to fuck me, but this time, he would be watching me fuck a woman. This was something he had never done, nor seen done.
I realized that this invitation put him in the position of a voyeur. I had found myself craving his cock in me. Perhaps that craving now had me trying to put the genie back in the bottle by keeping him in a passive position—or at least by creating a situation in which I would be in charge.
Unfortunately, I could not be in charge of other people’s schedules. It was summer and many of the bukkake club members were out of town or otherwise engaged. Late on the day we planned to meet, I decided that we had too few confirmed responses and cancelled the session. I sent an email to the gentlemen and asked my invited guest to join me later that night for dinner and a sleepover.
I reported the news to Carlos.
Carlos: Too bad. That sounded hot. You still want to meet? I’m so horny today.
Of course, I agreed.
I smiled when I saw him in my peephole. We kissed lightly at the door. I offered him a glass of water as he sat on the couch.
We talked about his day. He talked about his weekend playing tennis with his brother and sister. He touched my face, gently, and kissed me.
My hands searched out his body under his clothes.
In my bedroom, he was passive, as before. He allowed me to undress him, closing his eyes as I toured his body with my touch and my mouth. I took my time, as he showed no sign of hurry.
I held the base of his skull in my hand, swirling my tongue around his throat, when the phone rang. It signaled a guest at the door.
“One sec.” I leaned over his body to reach the receiver. “Yes? Oh, hi . . . did you . . . okay, come on up.” I buzzed the front door open.
Carlos was watching me. I grinned sheepishly.
“What was that?”
“Sight complication.” I leaned to kiss his lips. “You ever been watched before?”
“Watched? You mean, during sex? Uh, no . . .”
I sat up and reached for my shorts. “Cool. That’s about to change.”
His eyes followed me as I left the room.
I opened the front door as the doorbell rang. “Hi Eric, good to see you again.”
“Hey man, good to see you.” Eric took my hand as he entered. His palm was damp from the heat. He looked around the living room. “Am I the first?”
“First and only, I’m afraid. Did you walk here?”
“Yeah, it’s only a couple of miles . . .”
“Then I think you missed my late email. I’m sorry, but we had to cancel at the last minute.”
Eric face fell. “Oh, that’s too bad.” He looked around. “I had sort of saved it up for this.”
“Well, never fear. I’m fooling around with one of the guys in the back. You’re welcome to stay to watch that—you know, as a consolation prize.”
He wiped his forehead. “Huh. Really? Well, sure, okay.”
“Good.” I smiled. “C’mon, I’ll introduce you.” I led the way to my bedroom.
“Carlos? I’d like you to meet Eric. Eric, this is Carlos.”
Carlos sat up quickly. His eyes looked over my shoulders to Eric. He could see us both as we entered, as Eric is a good head taller than me.
“Oh, uh, hey.”
“Hey.”
“My apologies that Carlos is already naked,” I said, pulling off my shirt. “We were just . . . you know.” I dropped my shorts and sat next to Carlos.
“No, that’s cool.” Eric looked around. “So should I . . . ?”
“Yes, please.” I waved a hand to the chair beside my bed. “Make yourself comfortable in your voyeur’s seat. We’ll simply resume.”
Eric stepped out of his sneakers. I leaned forward to kiss Carlos. He kissed me back, his eyes on Eric.
I was going to enjoy this.
Eric had been watching me fuck women for over a year. He was quiet and handsome, with a tall athletic body that invariably caught the glances of the other bukkake club members and our female guests. I was touched by his respectful demeanor and returned it with similar manners. He was always a welcome guest in my home.
Carlos had never been watched. I was about to choreograph him through his first live sex show.
I paused as my lips trailed down Carlos’s sternum. “You’ve never watched two boys, have you, Eric?”
He coughed slightly. “No. I mean, porn and stuff, but . . .”
“Oh, I didn’t know you liked that kind of porn.” Carlos twitched as I brushed my cheek across his smooth belly. “I mean, you’re straight and all. Have you ever done much with boys?”
“No.” Eric watched my hand gently pump Carlos’s cock. “A foursome once, but the other guy and me . . . well, we didn’t do much . . .”
“Huh, that sounds really hot,” I nodded, taking Carlos’s cock in my mouth. He sighed and fell back.
I already knew the answers to the questions I asked Eric. My interview was primarily intended for Carlos’s edification and arousal.
My hands cupped his hips as I pulled him deep into me.
Hmm, Carlos, I thought as my tongue waved under him. Let me do things with you.
I looked up. Carlos was watching Eric. I knew Eric’s rhythms well enough to know what had caught Carlos’s eyes. I glanced over to see Eric stroking his cock, his shorts open at the zipper.
I dropped Carlos’s cock from my mouth and crawled up his body. I turned my head to rest my cheek against his. “I forgot to mention that Eric has an enormous cock. Amazing, right?”
Carlos stared ahead. I ground my cock against his. “Yeah.”
Eric stroked faster as we watched.
I sat back on my heels. I pressed Carlos’s thighs back. “I really like to have Eric watch when I’m fucking,” I said, pressing against Carlos’s hole. “He really gets off on it.”
The only sound from Eric’s chair was the friction in his palm.
Carlos barely noticed as I reached for lube and a condom. Eric’s eyes moved from Carlos’s torso to his ass I lubed him.
This time, Carlos raised no protests about being fucked.
I held my slippery head at the edge of his well-greased hole and pushed. “Unh,” Carlos sighed, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry, so tight . . .”
I smiled. “Yes, baby, you are incredibly tight.” I pushed forward, gradually giving him the full length of my cock.
“Shit,” Eric whispered.
I looked at him as I slowly pumped. “He has such a tight hole, man.” I pushed Carlo’s leg up to afford a better view for Eric. “See? I’m having to be so gentle.”
“Fuck,” Eric whispered.
I looked down to Carlos’s face. His eyes were closed. He bit his lip.
I pushed back on his thighs, fucking harder.
He turned his face. His brown eyes bore into me.
I fucked him harder still, pivoting my hips.
Carlos turned to watch Eric. I preferred to give Eric his privacy and focused on Carlos.
I barely noticed when Eric removed his shirt. Carlos began to stroke himself.
I pulled Carlos to the edge of the bed. I stood, grabbed his hips, and plowed forcefully.
I heard Eric’s breath accelerate. I knew the sound of his orgasm. I turned slightly to be sure he had a fine line of sight.
“Unh, unh, unh!” Eric grunted.
Carlos pivoted his head. “Do you want to cum on my chest?”
Eric raised a hand and looked at it as though he didn’t recognize it as his own. It dripped on his lap. “Uh, well, I just came.” He reached for a tissue.
“Carlos.” My voice was low.
He looked up at me.
“Carlos,” I said. “Now you cum.”
He nodded. His hand reached for his cock. I looked down to see that he wasn’t fully erect. I spit at his balls. He nodded again, taking up my saliva as his lube.
Eric watched as Carlos shot across his chest and belly.
“Fuck,” Eric murmured.
I leaned forward to kiss Carlos. I kissed him deeply, pressing my body against his, smearing his cum between us. “You are very beautiful, Carlos.”
He looked up. “Thanks.”
I kissed his forehead and stood. I edged my cock out of him and tugged off the condom. I fell back on the bed.
“Whew!” I exhaled, looking at Eric.
“Aren’t you going to cum?” Carlos asked.
“Nah,” I said, shaking my head. “Date night.”
Eric laughed. “Anyone I know?”
I looked at the ceiling. “Hmm, probably. You’ve must’ve seen me fuck most of the women I know.”
“That’s awesome.” Eric stood and reached for his shirt. “Well, thanks for the show, guys.”
“You’re leaving?” Carlos asked.
Eric looked at me, his face looking slightly awkward. “Yes, Eric has places to be,” I smiled. “Here, let me show our company to the door.” I picked up my shorts and leaned to kiss Carlos. “Back in a moment.”
At the door, I shook Eric’s hand. “Thanks for being so understanding about the change of plans.”
“Oh, that’s cool,” he smiled. “I’d like to see that again, if that’s cool.”
I patted his back. “I’m pretty sure Carlos would like that too.” I opened the door. “Next time, Eric.”
“Thanks. See you soon.”
I undressed again before getting back into bed with Carlos. Wordlessly, I kissed him.
“That was very nice, Carlos.” I kissed him again.
“That was really hot,” he nodded. “How do you know him?”
“I know people.” I ran a finger on his arm and kissed his shoulder. “Thanks for letting me fuck you. I knew he would get off on that. And . . . “ I kissed his cheek. “So did I.”
“It was nice,” he said. “Sorry if I was too tight. It’s just been a while.”
“You don’t bottom much?”
“Not any more. I mean, it used to be all I did. Everyone assumed I was a bottom, I guess because I’m young and the way I look or whatever. But I tried topping and I really liked it. So that’s what I do.”
I nodded. “You top really well. And you bottom well, too. You’re lucky—I’m a terrible bottom.”
He laughed. “I thought you were pretty good.”
I grimaced and looked away. “No, that’s nice, thanks, but I know I’m really bad at it.” I sighed. “I guess I just don’t do it enough to get any good.”
Carlos smiled. “Then you should do it more.”
Maybe Carlos could take my bait after all. I leaned forward and pressed him back. I lay over him and kissed his lips.
“Carlos,” I murmured. “I want to be versatile, just like you.”
He grabbed my ass and laughed.
That simplicity took a different turn when he fucked me. He had given it to me hard, making me cry out as he pulled my hair and came in my face. He was surprised by what that brought out in him.
I was no less surprised by what it brought out in me.
When he was in my bedroom, nude, under my body, stretched out before my camera, I felt entirely at ease. His beauty was soothing and made me feel confident; far from being intimidated by beauty, I am inspired by it. I could shape and mold his flesh to suit my inspiration in the moment.
He was undressed because I undressed him. He gave me kisses because I took them. He flinched under my bites and nibbles, his cock throbbing. My mouth and hands took him to precisely where I wanted him to be. In those moments with Carlos, I was practiced, assured and unrushed, an artist applying well-honed skills to his craft.
This was before he flipped me over and fucked me. As he pushed into me, pinning down my neck, I was momentarily stunned. This never happened—not the fucking, not the loss of composure, not the surrender of my body. Even more unfamiliar was the sense that I wanted it in that moment, badly, and wanted more of it, immediately.
I would see him again. I might even get fucked again. I didn’t regard getting fucked as an act of submission any more than I regarded fucking as an act of domination. Topping or bottoming are not innately acts of dominance or submission.
Even so, I had to wrap my mind around the sensation I felt in that moment when he flipped me. From my place of confidence and strength as I devoured his beauty—that familiar creative zone of domination—I was turned around and made his prey. He had wanted to take me just as intently as I had wanted to take him.
I wanted more of that.
So far as I knew, Carlos had no interest in anything having to do with domination or submission. He may have just been passive by nature and suddenly felt like fucking. But the raw surge of desire I felt as he fucked me, and the ferocity of his response to it, had clearly affected him as well.
True to form, I gravitated back to the top in my subsequent exchanges with Carlos. The prospect of seeing him again had my creative juices flowing. Without quite meaning to, Carlos was pushing me to want something new with him. I wondered if I could push him as well.
Jefferson: Have you ever been with a girl, Carlos?
Carlos: LOL. No, why?
Jefferson: I want you to fuck a girl for me. How about Tuesday?
Carlos: Are you serious? I don’t know . . .
Jefferson: It’s easy as pie. She’s very pretty—green eyes, sandy blonde hair, your age. You’ll be helping me out, since she has a fantasy about taking a gay boy’s virginity.
Carlos: LOL.
Jefferson: Do me this favor.
Carlos: Maybe I’ll just do you instead.
Jefferson: Carlos, God damn it, can’t you please just do what I tell you to do? Please? How fucking hard is that?
Carlos: LOL.
I had to accept that Carlos might not take my bait. At least, not yet. We barely knew one another, so I would just have to wait to find out if he was interested in allowing me to direct him to new experiences. That is, if I continued to hold his interest at all. Still, I couldn’t let rest my compulsion to test the edges of his susceptibility to suggestion.
Jefferson: I want you to come to the next meeting of my Bukkake Social Club.
Carlos: Bukkake?
Jefferson: Yes. You and a bunch of boys will watch me fuck a girl. The boys are all cool and most are bisexual. Eventually, they all jerk off and cum on the girl.
Carlos: Hot!!
Jefferson: Right? It’s damned hot. And I promise, I won’t make you fuck the girl.
Carlos: LOL. Cool, sounds good.
I considered this a good compromise. He might have had it in mind to fuck me, but this time, he would be watching me fuck a woman. This was something he had never done, nor seen done.
I realized that this invitation put him in the position of a voyeur. I had found myself craving his cock in me. Perhaps that craving now had me trying to put the genie back in the bottle by keeping him in a passive position—or at least by creating a situation in which I would be in charge.
Unfortunately, I could not be in charge of other people’s schedules. It was summer and many of the bukkake club members were out of town or otherwise engaged. Late on the day we planned to meet, I decided that we had too few confirmed responses and cancelled the session. I sent an email to the gentlemen and asked my invited guest to join me later that night for dinner and a sleepover.
I reported the news to Carlos.
Carlos: Too bad. That sounded hot. You still want to meet? I’m so horny today.
Of course, I agreed.
I smiled when I saw him in my peephole. We kissed lightly at the door. I offered him a glass of water as he sat on the couch.
We talked about his day. He talked about his weekend playing tennis with his brother and sister. He touched my face, gently, and kissed me.
My hands searched out his body under his clothes.
In my bedroom, he was passive, as before. He allowed me to undress him, closing his eyes as I toured his body with my touch and my mouth. I took my time, as he showed no sign of hurry.
I held the base of his skull in my hand, swirling my tongue around his throat, when the phone rang. It signaled a guest at the door.
“One sec.” I leaned over his body to reach the receiver. “Yes? Oh, hi . . . did you . . . okay, come on up.” I buzzed the front door open.
Carlos was watching me. I grinned sheepishly.
“What was that?”
“Sight complication.” I leaned to kiss his lips. “You ever been watched before?”
“Watched? You mean, during sex? Uh, no . . .”
I sat up and reached for my shorts. “Cool. That’s about to change.”
His eyes followed me as I left the room.
I opened the front door as the doorbell rang. “Hi Eric, good to see you again.”
“Hey man, good to see you.” Eric took my hand as he entered. His palm was damp from the heat. He looked around the living room. “Am I the first?”
“First and only, I’m afraid. Did you walk here?”
“Yeah, it’s only a couple of miles . . .”
“Then I think you missed my late email. I’m sorry, but we had to cancel at the last minute.”
Eric face fell. “Oh, that’s too bad.” He looked around. “I had sort of saved it up for this.”
“Well, never fear. I’m fooling around with one of the guys in the back. You’re welcome to stay to watch that—you know, as a consolation prize.”
He wiped his forehead. “Huh. Really? Well, sure, okay.”
“Good.” I smiled. “C’mon, I’ll introduce you.” I led the way to my bedroom.
“Carlos? I’d like you to meet Eric. Eric, this is Carlos.”
Carlos sat up quickly. His eyes looked over my shoulders to Eric. He could see us both as we entered, as Eric is a good head taller than me.
“Oh, uh, hey.”
“Hey.”
“My apologies that Carlos is already naked,” I said, pulling off my shirt. “We were just . . . you know.” I dropped my shorts and sat next to Carlos.
“No, that’s cool.” Eric looked around. “So should I . . . ?”
“Yes, please.” I waved a hand to the chair beside my bed. “Make yourself comfortable in your voyeur’s seat. We’ll simply resume.”
Eric stepped out of his sneakers. I leaned forward to kiss Carlos. He kissed me back, his eyes on Eric.
I was going to enjoy this.
Eric had been watching me fuck women for over a year. He was quiet and handsome, with a tall athletic body that invariably caught the glances of the other bukkake club members and our female guests. I was touched by his respectful demeanor and returned it with similar manners. He was always a welcome guest in my home.
Carlos had never been watched. I was about to choreograph him through his first live sex show.
I paused as my lips trailed down Carlos’s sternum. “You’ve never watched two boys, have you, Eric?”
He coughed slightly. “No. I mean, porn and stuff, but . . .”
“Oh, I didn’t know you liked that kind of porn.” Carlos twitched as I brushed my cheek across his smooth belly. “I mean, you’re straight and all. Have you ever done much with boys?”
“No.” Eric watched my hand gently pump Carlos’s cock. “A foursome once, but the other guy and me . . . well, we didn’t do much . . .”
“Huh, that sounds really hot,” I nodded, taking Carlos’s cock in my mouth. He sighed and fell back.
I already knew the answers to the questions I asked Eric. My interview was primarily intended for Carlos’s edification and arousal.
My hands cupped his hips as I pulled him deep into me.
Hmm, Carlos, I thought as my tongue waved under him. Let me do things with you.
I looked up. Carlos was watching Eric. I knew Eric’s rhythms well enough to know what had caught Carlos’s eyes. I glanced over to see Eric stroking his cock, his shorts open at the zipper.
I dropped Carlos’s cock from my mouth and crawled up his body. I turned my head to rest my cheek against his. “I forgot to mention that Eric has an enormous cock. Amazing, right?”
Carlos stared ahead. I ground my cock against his. “Yeah.”
Eric stroked faster as we watched.
I sat back on my heels. I pressed Carlos’s thighs back. “I really like to have Eric watch when I’m fucking,” I said, pressing against Carlos’s hole. “He really gets off on it.”
The only sound from Eric’s chair was the friction in his palm.
Carlos barely noticed as I reached for lube and a condom. Eric’s eyes moved from Carlos’s torso to his ass I lubed him.
This time, Carlos raised no protests about being fucked.
I held my slippery head at the edge of his well-greased hole and pushed. “Unh,” Carlos sighed, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry, so tight . . .”
I smiled. “Yes, baby, you are incredibly tight.” I pushed forward, gradually giving him the full length of my cock.
“Shit,” Eric whispered.
I looked at him as I slowly pumped. “He has such a tight hole, man.” I pushed Carlo’s leg up to afford a better view for Eric. “See? I’m having to be so gentle.”
“Fuck,” Eric whispered.
I looked down to Carlos’s face. His eyes were closed. He bit his lip.
I pushed back on his thighs, fucking harder.
He turned his face. His brown eyes bore into me.
I fucked him harder still, pivoting my hips.
Carlos turned to watch Eric. I preferred to give Eric his privacy and focused on Carlos.
I barely noticed when Eric removed his shirt. Carlos began to stroke himself.
I pulled Carlos to the edge of the bed. I stood, grabbed his hips, and plowed forcefully.
I heard Eric’s breath accelerate. I knew the sound of his orgasm. I turned slightly to be sure he had a fine line of sight.
“Unh, unh, unh!” Eric grunted.
Carlos pivoted his head. “Do you want to cum on my chest?”
Eric raised a hand and looked at it as though he didn’t recognize it as his own. It dripped on his lap. “Uh, well, I just came.” He reached for a tissue.
“Carlos.” My voice was low.
He looked up at me.
“Carlos,” I said. “Now you cum.”
He nodded. His hand reached for his cock. I looked down to see that he wasn’t fully erect. I spit at his balls. He nodded again, taking up my saliva as his lube.
Eric watched as Carlos shot across his chest and belly.
“Fuck,” Eric murmured.
I leaned forward to kiss Carlos. I kissed him deeply, pressing my body against his, smearing his cum between us. “You are very beautiful, Carlos.”
He looked up. “Thanks.”
I kissed his forehead and stood. I edged my cock out of him and tugged off the condom. I fell back on the bed.
“Whew!” I exhaled, looking at Eric.
“Aren’t you going to cum?” Carlos asked.
“Nah,” I said, shaking my head. “Date night.”
Eric laughed. “Anyone I know?”
I looked at the ceiling. “Hmm, probably. You’ve must’ve seen me fuck most of the women I know.”
“That’s awesome.” Eric stood and reached for his shirt. “Well, thanks for the show, guys.”
“You’re leaving?” Carlos asked.
Eric looked at me, his face looking slightly awkward. “Yes, Eric has places to be,” I smiled. “Here, let me show our company to the door.” I picked up my shorts and leaned to kiss Carlos. “Back in a moment.”
At the door, I shook Eric’s hand. “Thanks for being so understanding about the change of plans.”
“Oh, that’s cool,” he smiled. “I’d like to see that again, if that’s cool.”
I patted his back. “I’m pretty sure Carlos would like that too.” I opened the door. “Next time, Eric.”
“Thanks. See you soon.”
I undressed again before getting back into bed with Carlos. Wordlessly, I kissed him.
“That was very nice, Carlos.” I kissed him again.
“That was really hot,” he nodded. “How do you know him?”
“I know people.” I ran a finger on his arm and kissed his shoulder. “Thanks for letting me fuck you. I knew he would get off on that. And . . . “ I kissed his cheek. “So did I.”
“It was nice,” he said. “Sorry if I was too tight. It’s just been a while.”
“You don’t bottom much?”
“Not any more. I mean, it used to be all I did. Everyone assumed I was a bottom, I guess because I’m young and the way I look or whatever. But I tried topping and I really liked it. So that’s what I do.”
I nodded. “You top really well. And you bottom well, too. You’re lucky—I’m a terrible bottom.”
He laughed. “I thought you were pretty good.”
I grimaced and looked away. “No, that’s nice, thanks, but I know I’m really bad at it.” I sighed. “I guess I just don’t do it enough to get any good.”
Carlos smiled. “Then you should do it more.”
Maybe Carlos could take my bait after all. I leaned forward and pressed him back. I lay over him and kissed his lips.
“Carlos,” I murmured. “I want to be versatile, just like you.”
He grabbed my ass and laughed.
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