The Gushing Conclusion: Where Are My Panties? Part 3 of 3

I had been so entranced with recalling the previous night's events and swirling my fingers all over my vulva that I did not notice when the door crept open.

“Good morning”, he says and I jump, startled. Mystery Boy stands in the doorway, as naked as the night before, with that same smile splashed across his deservedly smug face. I pause, then remove my hand from my cunt and smile shyly. He walks, unassumingly, into the bathroom and takes a piss. I stand up, leaning on the counter's edge watching his firm ass sway. Now finished he walks to the sink, washes his hands and kisses me softly on my cheek. Cheek turns into mouth, neck, chest, and then stomach. Before I know it, I have my feet on his shoulders and my hands pulling his head scuba deep into my pussy.

The marble counter is cold and satisfying on my bare ass. His tongue moves so fast in starts and stops, it almost vibrates. His fingers are thick and dexterous filling and caressing the walls of my eager cunt. I can feel the pressure and buzz of anticipation building as my pussy swells in cadence with his touch. Drenched with pleasure, I rest my head back bumping against the mirror.
He stands up, his sheathed cock rock hard. He grabs firmly to its base and slides, slowly and carefully, into my welcoming cunt. He is still for a moment while I squirm adjusting to his dick.

Cautiously, deliberately he is now thrusting into me. I can feel every inch of it cradled by my buffeting pussy. In this lethargic moment, I can feel his strong pulse and the extreme warmth of the blood rushing into his dick.

Impulsively, he wraps his arms under my exposed ass and lifts me. Brutally, he throws me up and down on his agile dick. He slams me against the wall and fucks me ferociously, every thrust forcing my entire body up the wall. The rough wallpaper is electric against my partially perspiring posterior. I wrap my trembling legs around his waist and my arms around his sizzling neck. In this position, I am engorged and emboldened. He yanks me off the wall and carries me to the bedroom, all the while I am straddling up and down controlling his motion.

There that smile is again, mischievous and unapologetic.

We lose balance as we reach the bed and fall with a thud. I see him peering at me, comfortingly, through squinting eyes, watching me enjoy each lust dense moment. My legs thrown haphazardly in the air and I wrap my arms around him again, pulling him in close, my fingers can barely touch.

My breathing becomes unstable. He bites my shoulder and I quiver. My pussy is throbbing, and his bright red pubes gently wiping across my swollen lips with each thrust send me barreling over the edge. With one violent spasm, my feverish cunt ejects his dick and a river of juices. He pushes his dick back into my gushing cunt and continues to pummel it. He is vibrating inside of me. He yanks his cock out and caresses it to the startling finale, spraying cum from my belly button to my chin. Sweaty, breathless, spent, and smiling from ear to ear we dilute into the sex soaked sheets.

Many moments of rapid breaths and wiping sweat from brow later, he leaves the room and returns with a warm damp cloth. Smiling, he silently cleanses my fluid slicked tummy and leaves again. The shower is running. I lay still enjoying the pulsating soreness of my exhausted pussy.

After drying and getting dressed in a most comfortable silence he announces, “My name is Eric.”
I laugh, having unconsciously forgotten that I did not know his name. I reply, “Cheryl.”

I get up. Gather my things. He walks me to the door. I kiss him. I open the door. He reaches for my hand. He squeezes slightly in that way that men sometimes do.

My legs are al dente as I stumble to my car in the bright morning sun. I drop my things on the passenger seat, start the car, put on my seat belt and pull away. I never imagined my first thought the morning following my 30th birthday would be, "where are my panties". I also never imagined that I would leave them stuffed in a stranger’s linens. Never in my life have I wanted them to be uncovered so badly.

Waste Not, Want Not: Where Are My Panties? Part 2 of 3

Mystery Boy is stirring in bed. I should probably peak my head out of the bathroom door to make sure he is still asleep. The Z’s are still pouring. Sitting back down I’m realizing my pussy is dripping wet. I slide my hand under my skirt and begin to massage my clit. I want to remember more…

As he stands up from the couch, I notice that his pants had disappeared at some point. His bare legs look strong. You can see the muscles work under the bright red fleece of hair that thickly covers his thighs. His thick cock is stiff. He delightfully grabs and tugs at it, as a small child would do absentmindedly at the dinner table. My eyes travel from his proudly presented bouncing erection upward to his chest and face, which are drenched in the juices of my pussy. I laugh nervously, and he licks his fingers. “Damn, can I get the recipe” he inquires with a smile. He reaches out his hand to help me up, but instead I lean forward to grab a hold to his dick and comfort it within my rapidly watering mouth. 

My sudden move knocks him slightly off base; he takes a small step backward to steady his footing. His breaths deepen every time his cock reaches the back of my throat. His movements are slight but his tightly squinted eyes, firmly balled fists and viciously curled toes, make it seem as if his entire soul is pouring into the shaft is his still swelling cock. It’s funny how stiff his body is. I start to speed up and he loses balance completely, we fall back onto the couch, his now pulsating prick still in my mouth. 

He is silent, except for sharp breaths, until a grunt sneaks out. Now every exhale is paired with increasingly savage grunts. Suddenly he wraps both of his hands around my head, holding it still, and begins to fuck my throat. I like the savage behavior he is suddenly showing. His whole body begins to shake and I know he is going to cum. His hands jerk to move my head, which is unnecessary. He falls deathly still and silent. I can taste his salty, sweet cum as his dick opens fire on my throat.

After a long pause, he finally moves, inhales, and exhales with a giggle. I kneel back and gladly swallow his cum, no use in letting it go to waste. He leans down, gently kisses my lips and whispers “thank you.” I stay on my knees, as he recovers, playing with his still swollen cock. It jumps with his heartbeat and I begin to follow his pulse, letting it bounce on my tongue.

Now that he has recovered both of our Hypnotiq hazes are waning and the curtain of sleep is dropping faster than my panties on our spinning heads. He leads me to the bedroom; I lie down on the deceptively soft all white linens and find my swiftly drifting away. I awake moments later to one of his hands on my shoulder and the other offering me a glass of water. I take it willingly, knowing that the next morning will be an aspirin filled fiasco if I don’t. I finish the water quickly and set it on the dark, wooden bedside table. Mystery Boy then leans forward to kiss my forehead. He then, surprisingly cartwheels over me onto the bed. We share a laugh. He lays his head on my titty and casually swirls the nipple with his tongue as we melt to sleep.

Where Are My Panties? Part 1of 3

I never imagined that my first thought the morning following my 30th birthday would be, "where are my panties?" However, for better or worse this happens to be the thought sprinting across my foggy mind at this moment as I sit up straight in this comically large bed. For that matter, where are my bra, pants, and heels? I am also wondering whom this person lying next to me snoring like a wildebeest. He is cute though, even with his bright red unkempt curly locks and matching sparsely tamed beard.

My second thought is to run. In this current situation, that seems rather silly if not blatantly illegal. Swallowing that primal motivation, I decide it better that I cautiously spill myself out of bed slowly planting my feet into the soft chocolate carpet of this rather well designed bedroom. Walking… rather creeping unsteadily to the bathroom I catch sight of my discarded clothing and, thank god, my cell phone.

Closing the bathroom door behind me I immediately wiggle back into the smoky skin of yesterday. Now that I am clothed, I can at least think about where I am and how I got here. After a few minutes of flipping through my phone looking at last night’s pictures and text messages, the night starts to come back to me. After a few too many gin and tonics, Mystery Boy and I ended up back at his place. I do not remember how it started, exactly, but I do remember.

This boy smells like cinnamon, adrenaline and cigarettes as he is nibbling the tender nape of my neck. Somehow, in the circumstances this particular combination is more intoxicating than a fifth shot of Stoli. His hands are exploring my body through the fabric of my tank top, until I find myself topless and helpless and I love it.

He lays me down on his plush carpet and the fibers tickle the supple skin of my back and thighs. It is only now that I can feel the warmth of his body as he puts his weight on me. He sits upright and removes his shirt in one fluid movement. His hairy chest is slick with sweat and now pressed up against my exposed tits. His skin is soft but slightly rough and stunningly responsive to my hands as they hold tight to his hips and shoulders mimicking the rhythm of his movements.

He is good.

I cannot help but to think that I may not be the first damsel he’s brought back to his castle. My mind wanders into the sticky abyss of trysts pass, for a moment, until I am jerked back by the feeling of my too short skirt and panties had, seemingly, evanesced into the ether.

His head is barely visible with his entire mouth buried deep in my pussy. The wet noises, slurps and licks, turn me on even more. When he realizes I am watching, he looks up and gives a knowing smile licking his lips. The whiskers of his mustache are satisfyingly prickly against my clit adding to the finger and tongue combination making my legs shudder with each lashing of his flat wet tongue.

Through sharp breathes I manage to whisper, “I’m going to cum”. To him it probably sounds more like, “I’m… gonna… ooh... cum!” My legs clamp shut and hold his head in place, but he does not stop. He keeps licking and fingering my now swollen and, for the moment, satiated pussy. He only sops once my legs have loosened their vice grip as I fall into a post orgasmic coma.

After catching my breath and returning to stasis, I open my eyes to see him watching me. He is sitting on the couch staring down looking over every inch of my body as I writhe around enjoying the heightened sensations arousal brings.

He is beautiful.

His body is tight but chubby, hairy but smooth. He has a youthful look in his bright emerald eyes, and I can tell this isn’t the end of what he has planned for me.

Cheaters

Last post I talked to you dudes and dudettes about a girl I met in my favorite coffee shop. She'd cheated on her boyfriend and wanted help deciding whether or not she should accede her misgivings. I told her not to. It seems as though some of you would disagree with me. In the comments for that post my new friend Clara wrote:

"I guess what I'm saying is that I think it harms the relationship to keep the secret. It may keep things smooth for a while, but do we want an easy relationship or a real one? Cheating in the first place means that something is off. It could mean she isn't really ready for monogamy, that her feelings for her boyfriend are waning, that she isn't mature enough to make the good choices, or that she isn't really happy. Whatever the reason, the mistake she made is proof that there is something to fix. But she shouldn't fix it alone, she's in a relationship! The whole point is it's not just up to her if they should stay together and work on it or end it, it's up to him too. He should know all the facts, and they should make these decisions together. By keeping this secret, she is being unfair to her boyfriend by taking his vote, and limiting her own growth as a person. By pretending nothing is wrong, whatever IS wrong cannot be addressed. "

Clara makes sense. Nothing she is saying is wrong; however, in this situation her reaction is the wrong one.  Our young woman slipped up only once, in her two-year relationship. She has been drenched in guilt since the incident with her spicy Latin co-worker and I think she should give herself a break. We too often put extreme amounts of pressure on ourselves to be perfect, which is an unrealistic goal. Everyone deserves a get out of jail free card every once in a while, consider this hers. 

If she ever slips up again she needs to confess. If she finds she has any negative consequences that will soon be communicable, flaring up, or in nine months bursting from her uterus she needs to belt it out as if Mariah Carey became She Hulk and ate Beyonce, Whitney Houston and Minnie Ripperton.

If no negative consequences come from this mistake then a confession of guilt will only serve to remove the weight of guilt from her shoulders and put the weight of betrayal onto his.

Along with giving ourselves a break, we need to learn to shoulder our own burdens and not pass them off to others. Your mistakes are yours. To illustrate, say you are a multibillion-dollar multinational corporation of British origin that sells petroleum. If you where to say make a bad decision causing hundreds of millions of gallons of oil to pour into the sea for months killing gargantuan numbers of wild life and cause untold damage to the ecosystem of the world, you should keep your mouth shut. You should stop the leak, fund wild life preservation efforts and pay dividends to the families that have gone bankrupt because you murdered their only source of income.  Not make a half-hearted apology on global television and continue not to give a fraction of a millionth of a shit.

We are humans, and to human is err. There is no reason why we should be held accountable for every single one of our missteps in life.  Think of all the little and big things you have done that you have gotten away with. If you have not, then you are holier than thou I guess and you can look down upon us in judgment.  I’m guessing you are not a metaphysical being that may or may not exist so just focus on loving and embracing yourself, all the while crossing your fingers no one is currently digging up your dirt.

Blah, Blah, Blah

Today while I was in my favorite sub shop, I met a girl who had a problem. Her problem was  that she'd met a complete stranger, me, and was about to spill her dirtiest secret to him. Luckily for her she picked the right stranger. I will spare you from sifting through the emotional vomit she spat onto my shoes but the summary is that she'd cheated on her boyfriend of two years with Some Latin Guy (SLG) from her job. I say "Some Latin Guy" because during this 25min non-stop out pouring of crazy she referred to him as having come from every country south of and including Mexico. I think it was mainly because he can't speak English and she can't speak Spanish but none the less.

What she wanted from me was to help her decide whether to tell her boyfriend or not. I think we all know what I told her... Shut your fucking mouth. 

There is literally NO reason why, at this point she needs to tell Boyfriend anything. The way she explained it to me, SLG is keeping his non-English speaking mouth shut, as far as she knows she hasn't caught syphilis or a fetus, and she's set a appointment to get checked for any STIs and pregnancy. She's doing everything she needs to do.

However, if Boyfriend asks, she needs to spill it. If she caught something, she needs to spill it. If she finds out she's knocked up with Some Half Latin Baby by Some Latin Guy, bitch better sing. In every other circumstance she needs to zip her lips with a padlock and stop talkin' all that blah, blah, blah!

Telling Boyfriend will only help her to feel better, and him to feel like shit. If it doesn't murder her already  tumultuous relationship it will at the very least send a pair of jet liners through their proverbial twin towers of love.

Now I'm gonna get back to my goddamn sub before someone else decides to share their life with me. :)

I like you, but I don't like you like you...

The first time I ever hit on a guy I was young, maybe 13 or 14. I don't remember much of the encounter itself,  but I know that I'd met him at a rec center near my house and totally thought he was dreamy. He was into me, and we hit off. From there we dated on and off for about four years. Unfortunately this is where my successful approaches come to an abrupt and unfortunate end.

Every guy I have approached in the ensuing decade, from then until today, has politely declined my advances. I have heard a shit ton of excuses ranging from, "You're just not my type" (I can respect that), and "We should just be friends" (Fuck no.) to "Um, no" (Rude!), and "I don't think I'm your type." (Are fucking retarded! I hit on you, plus I don't even have a "type" you dumb ass.) None of them helped the sting. It never got easier to take, nor did it get easier to put myself out there.

As recently as two weeks ago I was rejected by "I don't think I'm your type", who was a friend I hoped to make into a boyfriend.Obviously that was a disaster. To be quite honest, in this situation I was more offended by the lame ass reason than the actual rejection.

At this point in my emo extravaganza I really should add that I have been hit on, successfully. Not really sure how to word that one. I get hit on, not very often anymore, but it happens. I usually give the person the time of day, unless I find them so ugly it's repellent. This isn't out of some karma bull but instead out of sheer willingness to give anyone a try. I find that even the marginally attractive can be upgraded greatly by a good personality or intelligence.

All of this rejection has made me as bitter as orange rind.  I try not to let the bitterness affect me but there are times. Sometimes I'll be listen to someone complain about their relationship problems or see a couple together in a loving caress and want to throw a brick at them. As of yet I have not, that you know, done so. Some how, I have been able to avoid many of the pitfalls that the chronically rejected oft fall into. I really credit that accomplishment to my mom's constant reassurance of my worth as a child, but that's for another more Freudian post.

I openly recognize the things about me that make me so prone to rejection and because I am being honest I am going to lay them out here for your reading pleasure. My personality, is abrasive and at the same time wholly insecure. My body, I'm fat. My dress, I have never been and never will be a snazzy dresser. I'm shy, and closed off. All of that is topped off with my chronic depression and severe anxiety attacks. I'm a mess, but that's me.

You may read that and think to yourself, "OMG WTF GTG, It's not you it's me. I simply have a allergy to crazy people." Yeah, me too. Let's be clear, I do not lay all my crazy out in the first meeting, are you crazy? Like most of you I try to hide my crazy, but it seems my crazy has grown to be a bit of a Houdini.

At this point in my story the only thing I have left to say is... Hi, my name is Jerome. Would you like to go out some time?

Random Web Stuffs

Miss Stripper USA!

The American media loves its salacious news stories. If it is pretty, skinny, young, bloody, or blonde it has a good chance making its way onto the evening news. Currently the news media is sating its appetite with is the “Stripper Miss USA”, Rima Fakih story

Firstly, let me just say she is not a stripper. She took a stripping class as a part of a radio station event. Yes, the function is called Stripper 101 but it is not as “dirty” as it sounds. I live in Michigan and listen to the Mojo in the Morning radio show every day and from that I know it is a female sexual empowerment event.

Secondly, these “revealing” photos were taken in 2007. Who even knows if she aspired to compete in 2007.

Let’s take a look at the picture that is causing this whole scandal.

Now let’s take a look at a picture of what Rima wore during the swimsuit portion of the Miss USA competition.



Her swimsuit is, basically, a bra and panties, while her stripper wear is shorts and a t-shirt. I think we might be in arms about the wrong thing

Come on people, Rima is mind boggling gorgeous and looking at highlights on YouTube she deserved her title. She’s smart, and literate which is more than can be said about many of her contemporaries. Plus, she’s a Michigan girl so I’m going to stand behind her.

In the end, this all comes down to people wanting tarnish her reputation. People who are not being honest about their motivations and people who seek to benefit from this “news”. That is unacceptable.

Songs To Get Busy To

Music and sex are two of the things that join us all together. So what's better than joining those two together? Everyone has something they listen to during sex. So with your help I have compiled a playlist of 10 11 of the best songs to get busy to.

1. Closer - Nine Inch Nails

I think the lyrics "I wanna fuck you like an animal, I wanna feel you from the inside" are enough to grant this the top spot on our list.

2. Moments In Love - Art of Noise

This 1980's instrumental track is the sexiest 7:52 that you will spend.

3. Red Light Special - TLC

Back in the 90's TLC where the definition of Crazy Sexy Cool and this song is all of that. Turn it on and you won't even need a red light.

4. Say It - Ne-Yo

He wants to know what I want him to do to me... I have a few suggestions.

5.  Black Sweat - Prince

It's motherfucking PRINCE working up a motherfucking sweat! Damn now I'm misty, lol.

6.  I Get Lonely - Janet Jackson

Over her career Janet has graced us with many baby making tracks. This track has had a long sensuous career in my own personal repertoire. The beat on this track gets hips moving, if you know what I mean.

7. Fuck The Pain Away - Peaches

This track is for those times when you just want to get some gut busting banging in. Try keeping up with the hi-hat, and I guarantee you a sweaty good time.

8.  Amazing - George Michael

Yes I know this song is not all about sex but I can't listen to this song without getting in the mood. That has to count for something right?

9. Glory Box - Portishead

This is the type of song a movie would have in that scene where the two lustful characters finally get it on. The lead singer' purr in every word and the electric guitar solo midway through is more than enough reason to love it.

10. Black Milk - Massive Attack

Another song that would be a perfect back drop in a Hollywood sex scene.

11*. Speechless - Beyonce

This is a little known track from Beyonce's first solo album. This song plays like warm honey, with lyrics like "There's only sweat between us." This song is so good I had to make room for it on the list.

Honorable Mentions

My Funny Valentine - Chris Botti

Lebanese Blonde - Thievery Corporation

That's The Way  Love Goes - Janet Jackson

Last Request - Paolo Nutini

Can You Handle It - Usher

Careless Whispers - George Michael

Let's Do It Again - TLC

S3

In prep for the sex toy post of 2 weeks ago I went to S3: Safe Sex Store my local toy store. It turned out that I loved the store. I thought I'd share it, and what a good toy store should be like.

To say that S3: Safe Sex Store is the best brick and mortar sex toy store I have ever been to is a bit of a understatement. I have never even been to a store that compares. The store in no way feels like dudgeon, as every other toy store I have visited has felt. The location, big windows and natural lighting help to aide that feeling. S3 is located I the center of downtown Ann Arbor, MI sandwiched between a Jimmy Johns and a trinket shop, which normalizes the experience tremendously. When you walk in a friendly face, and two walls filled with all manner of sex toys and aides greets you. For such a small store, they are able to pack in a large amount of items, but all of the items are of high quality. According to storeowner Beth, every single one of their products is screened and must meet all of their requirements before it will ever go on their shelves. One of my favorite features of the store is the over 100 different condoms options they offer.  All of their condoms are kept in a temperature safe area of the store as to make sure the condoms integrity isn't damaged They not only have great products but also great prices, with many items available in the $15-$35 range, which is a sweet spot for us broke college students. One thing Beth really wanted to get across was that their store is place for education. She hosts several seminars all year round, both in store and in other venues. Their website is dedicated to education and you can find a mass of information there. All in all S3 is clearly the best choice for your sex toy needs in all of Washtenaw county, going anywhere else would be as criminal as most M. Night Shamalan movies.

For more info on S3 visit  their website at http://www.s3safesexstore.com/