Up, Up and Up Some More

It seems that just this past Friday I had about 185 hits, as opposed to the 50 or 60 a day I usually get. I looked into it briefly and could find no clue as to what happened on Friday to warrant such a spike. I wondered if someone linked to me anew, or if someone was talking about me somewhere (although my ears weren't ringing, that I recall), but nothing.

I can only surmise that Friday is a particularly busy day for smut. Really, this makes perfect sense.

You've spent a busy, maybe draining, possibly boring, week at work. You come home knowing there's no alarm clock to disturb you the next day, so you have a drink, or a glass of wine. You read your e-mail, maybe play a game or two on Yahoo games and then find yourself wondering, "Hmmm...wonder if there's any new porn to get me off before I pass out."

One site leads to another and the next thing you know you're reading about a woman who's husband disciplines her for errant ways in the home. Or maybe you want to know what a woman really thinks about while she's masturbating.

Yes, Friday's are good nights for a little light reading. Whether it's your cock in your hand or your fingers sunk into the wetness of your cunt, I hope I helped you find some relaxation after a busy week.

A Little Traffic

By traffic I don't refer to what happens when you get on the LIE (that's Long Island Expressway for those not in the know - often referred to as the largest parking lot in the world). I mean that I'm still getting some hits lately, a few stragglers I think from my moments of notoriety when I was included in the sex blog roundup a few weeks ago. That was nice. Also, my "fans" (read: "friends") read regularly and I adore them for it.

I figured if people are visiting I should have something inviting for them to read when they arrive. Maybe give a little update or titillate with something hot and steamy. Sadly, I have no hot and steamy. There is no spice in my life just now, so I don't have much to report from the real world. Even the imaginary world is cloyingly tame these days. Same old, same old when it comes to masturbation fantasy. Masturbation itself is on a bit of a back burner, anyway.

So, all I can do is say, "Hello" and "Welcome" and I'm glad you stopped by. Feel free to browse the archives and see if there's any mischief I was in previously that you fancy. If you find something that strikes you particularly, do let me know. It's always satisfying to know I'm turning someone on.

Congratulations America!

On a job well done!

A Little More Than Advice

Honored

Lately I have been feeling like so much of a non-blogger. Writing infrequently. Having sex infrequently. And yet, here I am!

Thanks to Madeline for including me in this weeks Fleshbot Roundup. It's an honor.

And thanks to my buddy the Bunny for giving me the heads up.

Doesn't Play Well With Others, or...

I don't like to share.

There are some things I love to share with others. I love to share a meal, music that I love, I love to share the company of my friends with the company of my other friends, I love to share good books I've read, a cup of tea, a blanket if it's cold, my toys, my time and, of course, my opinion.

I don't, however, like to share partners without knowing I'm sharing them. Meaning, if you're dating me then, well, you're dating me. You're not also dating someone else. Or other someone elses. I require, in a word, exclusivity. I'm pretty damn clear about this. Always have been.

It's this issue that has brought an end to my relations with our linguist here. It's too bad because that was some fun, but I know my limits fairly well and this is a hard one. (A hard limit, I mean.)

Ah, well. Win some, lose some.

Thank God for masturbation and an active imagination.

Boogie Nights

There's a party tonight. Yes, one of those parties. And I'm going. Somewhat alone. I'll be with a friend and her occasional fellow, but I suppose that essentially will put me on my own. To which I am not averse. I like the freedom.

Of course, we know I don't really want all that much freedom. Tie me up and my heart sings.

The theme of this party is Boogie Nights. Which, in effect, makes the theme the 70's and early 80's. A period with which I too had Farrah Fawcett hair and did too much coke. Porn wasn't much in the mix for me, but I'm a late bloomer.

My outfit won't be exactly a period piece, but close enough. I'm in it for the dancing and whatever trouble I can get myself into. Or, whatever trouble (read: cock) can get into me.

Stay tuned, loved ones.

Language

I think we all can agree that language and the psychology of certain words and phrases has a very strong and powerful affect on our sex lives. Even the quietest, meekest, most uncommunicative has to admit that a soft word whispered in the ear at the moment of climax can make it just that much better.

Of course, for me, I'm much happier if those quiet syllables equate to something dirty, perverse. Whisper "whore" in my ear and I'll drip all over the bed.

In the not so distant past I lay cross length on his bed, my yoga flexible legs spread apart and up and practically over my head, exposing my sex to him in a most vulnerable and accessible way. Pushing down on my thighs, holding me both apart and still, he plunged his cock into my pussy.

"Mmmm...you're just a fuckhole, aren't you?"

I gasped for air as he said this. Gasped as he pounded me.

"Just a nice place to put my dick."

I could feel the juice from my now overflowing cunt dripping down my ass onto the bed. I moaned, "yesssss...".

"You like being just a cunt, don't you?"

Yes. Yes, I do.

He plowed and I screamed as I left the earth and took off on that sea of unreality.

Sad to See You Go

I realize I've been on the outskirts of the sex blog community for quite some time now. But, I do read my blog rolls at least once a week so as to keep up with what adventures my sexy friends are up to. So, I was sad and disappointed to find that everyones favorite Life Guard, LG in Atlanta, has taken down his blog, Ramblings of the Male Mind.

He was funny and sweet and sexy. A terrible flirt with excellent taste in women (as illustrated by the photos he loved to post of his favorite gals).

I hope all is well, LG. We'll miss you.

Timer is Everything

My good friend Rupert up at the Chateau keeps a countdown timer on his blog so that we, his loyal fans, can track and commiserate with him during the long stretches through which he suffers between sexual activity. Or, maybe I should say between coupling. We KNOW he has uni-sexual activity. :)

I don't keep a timer (although there's a really loud, ticking one in my head - you can't hear it?) but I can report that I hadn't had sex with another person since January. I don't have an exact date on that, but we can say somewhere around the 25th. Close enough. So, seven (7) months since I was fucked.

Well, reset the timer people. We have lift-off. And a nifty lift-off at that, with more on the horizon, I believe.

And...are we ready?...And, it seems he has similar proclivities as well as being a decent, fun, helluva guy.

Let the hair-pulling commence.

All kidding aside -

YAY!

The Cycle of Life

I guess I should be happy, or grateful, or relieved. And, I suppose, I am all those things. I find lately, I'm horny again. Thinking about sex again. A lot. At work. Thinking about sex at work. I don't mean having sex at work...you know what I mean. But, that's not the point. The point is that it's back, I guess. With less of a vengeance, but back.

The problem is that I don't want random sex with a stranger. Well, not really. I mean, if the right stranger came along, I would fuck him for sure. But, I want more. I want a partner. I want a master. Of sorts. I'm always a bit ambivalent about the whole master/slave whatever thing. But, I want that power. That power over me.

I've been dating a little. No-one particularly particular yet. But, you never know who's around the corner. Or so I keep telling myself. I've been praying for miracles. I just have to be smart enough to recognize one when it's in my face. That's the challenge. My own ability to be intelligent enough to see what's being presented to me.

All that aside, I want it.

I want my hair, which is quite long now, to be wrapped up in his fist. I want him to pull my head back and push his cock into my mouth. I want him to tell me, as I kneel before him, helpless to his force, to spread my legs, to touch myself as he fucks my mouth. I want to hear him groan with satisfaction as I do.

I want to be on my hands and knees on the bed while, behind me, he spreads me apart and examines me. My cunt wet and swollen. Dripping from his words as he tells me what a whore I am for showing myself to him in this way. As I push back a little farther, knowing this spreads me apart even more.

I haven't thought of these things in months and now these fantasies fill my head. I can hear in my mind the sound of his hand smacking my bottom red and sore and his derisive laugh as he plunges fingers into me and finds I'm so wet the two or three fingers he uses are not enough to create any friction.

I want it, now. I want it, again. I need a miracle.

Going up and coming down

Yikes!

So, a girl sits down in a bar and has a drink. No, two. No, three. She's waiting for this friend, you see. Anyway, she has this very nifty new "smart phone" and decides that she'll write a bit while waiting for said friend. And write she does. She clicks on the "Save as Draft" button in her blogger interface, but apparently her phone is not as smart as she thought and mistakes one button for another. Or, something like that.

She will attempt to re-write said post on a smart computer. Hopefully it will help her to express herself in complete sentences.

More to come...

A Reason to Resurface

I've been absent. From here, from many places. It's been a busy, aggravating and exhausting few months for me. My interest in sex and erotica has been non-existent and while I initally worried about this, I find now it's just where I am and that's okay. Other things need attention.

Like this country. Like the obvious crumbling of the economy and the indifference of our leaders. Everything costs more - food, health care, gas, housing. Everything. There are more homeless people on the streets, more children are going hungry, people are losing their jobs. We're a mess.

There's so many things we can do to help others. Donate money to favorite charities, donate food to food shelves or churches, volunteer time at soup kitchens. Vote.

Vote. If there's nothing else you can do to help, you can do this single, simple and important thing. The thing you are given as a right the moment you are born as, or become through hard work and dedication and patience, an American citizen.

Register today. Vote in November. It's your right. It's your responsibility. Help others. Help us all.

What's a girl to wear?

The understatement of the caption on this picture offered up by Bacchus at Erosblog just kills me.

Bananas, indeed.

The Merry Month of May

I cannot resist to remind anyone who may still visit this quiet blog that it is, once again, Merry Masturbation Month.

The festivities begin, not in your bedroom, but here with Shay on The S Spot. Visit her, then visit yourself in whatever way makes you feel oh...so...goooood.

Naked woman? Hand on rod?

Or both? Either way, our smirking, sadistic (and not in a good way), duplicitous VP is photographed smiling at something that millions speculated was a naked woman. Further investigation finds it's just a hand (his?) on a fishing rod.

I don't know why, but I suspect when presented with a naked woman, Cheney doesn't smile quite so broadly. I don't imagine he becomes almost gleeful in his regard of her. I picture him leering and chuckling in a "...oh the things I'm going to do to you..." sort of way.

Not pretty.

Anyway, a few folks have been wondering about my whereabouts and my well being and I appreciate the check-ins. My life just doesn't have a whole lot of time for blogging right now. I have, though, been trying to keep up with my regular reads and occasionally commenting. I want to keep in touch.

I suspect at some point I'll have both something to write about and the time to do it. It's just not now.

I am alive, though. Thanks for asking.

Hugs....

Incomunicado

I apologize for my absence and silence. It's been a busy and kind of rough few weeks as I adjust to a new job and new schedule. Absolutely nothing sexy has happened in my life of late. And, my libido seems to be buried under exhaustion, anxiety and playing a constant game of catch-up.

Once I dig out, or maybe, you know, get laid, I'll write more. I see that people are still ready this blog and I'm glad.

I'll be back...

A Little Something to Tide You Over

Since I am obviously not writing anything (at all) I thought I shouldn't just leave my loyal readers high and dry completely. We are fortunate enough to have new work from none other than Remittance Girl. Her newest story is exciting, provocative and, of course, extremely erotic.

So, I direct you to The Splinter.

If you've not read her work before I also suggest you read some of her other stories. Two of my favorites are The Illustrated Teacher and Therapy.

RG's prose has inspired me to both write my own erotica and to explore my submission. Her ability to guide you through the details of an encounter between a Dominant and his submissive is remarkable. I hope you enjoy her writing as much as I do.

As for me, my life and schedule have changed in the past few weeks and I am no longer the master of my own time. Something will come (maybe even me) eventually.

A(nother) Sad Day for Democratic Politicians

Why are politicians so stupid about sex? Why don't they realize that they have enemies who will do all they can to find their badly hidden dirt and expose it? If they're smart enough to get elected (and maybe I'm giving them too much credit there) why can't they take that intelligence and apply it to their dicks (in a manner of speaking).

I'm not a huge Spitzer fan. I don't even think he's been much of a governor. But this is just the stupidest thing. I mean really. Too fucking stupid.

Thank God Almighty

Home at last, home at last, etc, etc.

I am happy to be home and safe and relatively sound (of course, that's a matter of opinion). It was a good trip. A needed trip. But coming home is sometimes the best part. I was ready to sleep (and masturbate) in my own bed.

They lost my luggage. In my luggage is my new toy. They lost my new toy. With any luck and the benevolence of the luggage department at La Guardia airport, we will be reunited. And then the fun (hopefully) will begin.

In the meantime, I came across this clothing store on Haight Street in San Francisco.



In fact, they seemed to know little about me. Well, my style of dress anyway. But, I like their logo. I've used a little image of it to the right.

Now, that should be the name of a sex toy store.

Reporting from the Left Coast...

It's warm here. Spring-like. Or, maybe it's just Spring. I seem to be blessed (I know, I'm jinxing it) with good weather this week. Yay!

Wandered around the Mission area yesterday. Strolling up and down Valencia, I easily could have been in the East Village. It's that same blend of hip and grunge. Went into the very hip stores and didn't buy anything.

But wait! I lie! Unbeknownst to me, Good Vibrations lives on Valencia Street! I've been ordering from them for years and was so excited to walk into the store and shop live! In NY I have, of course, Toys in Babeland (now shortened to Babeland), but I have a place in my heart for GV. It was the first place (albeit on-line) that I ever purchased a toy for myself. So, I was thrilled to be there and wander the displays in person.

I, of course, had to buy something. That just went without saying. The something I bought is something I've wanted for a while, now. It's something I'm admittedly a little squeamish about. But I had to buy it. I was there and it was there in my hands waiting to make it's home with me. It was, as they say, the perfect opportunity.

I'm not going to tell you what this thing is. I figure it would be much more exciting, for you and for me, to report about it once it's been put to good (hopefully) use. In the meantime, you can guess what it is. Or picture in your mind what it might be. Or what you might hope it is.

This is the perfect opportunity for you to use your imagination. What would Eve be squeamish of, but drawn to? And, if I were with her, how would I help her get past her little phobia? Hmmmm....

Vacation

I'm off on vacation tomorrow for a couple of weeks and am NOT bringing my laptop (I know - horrors!). I want this to be an actual vacation and bringing my machine would be counter to that goal. I'll have a chance to check my e-mail a bit but won't be posting anything.

So, my friends, stay warm, stay sexy.

The Perfect Table

Bacchus at Erosblog refers us to this gallery of pictures because he's impressed by the variety of facial expressions the model treats us to throughout her examination.

What I am drawn to, however, is the table. This is the table of my fantasy and the moment I saw it I wished I could find an opportunity to get my check-up in that office.

It is perfect.

This picture is intriguing, as is the ample girth of the cock she's being impaled with, but look at the table. The restraints in exactly the right location to lock her wrists in place to the side of her head.


In this picture, you can see the stirrups that support her thighs and can comfortably (a word I use here lightly) hold her in place.



Oh yes, the perfect examination table for my doctor (and his nurse, of course) to test my many reactions to their ministrations.

A Little Time On My Hands

Last night my plans changed and I found myself with an evening at home. At first this was disappointing, but I easily found something to do.

I watched boring, re-run TV for a little while (Please, writers and studios, figure this out! I cannot watch another Numbers re-run!). But, I was restless. I sat down with my laptop and wandered over to some blogs that can usually stir something in me. After a while, I wandered into my bedroom and took off my clothes. I don't generally become completely naked, but last night I wanted the feel of the sheets along my body.

My mind ran through a few of the fantasies that provide me with excitement. The movies in my head in which I am the star. I landed here, at this iteration (there are a few different versions) of the one I come back to, over and over.

***********************************************************************************************

I'm in a therapists office. I've come to him because I feel that I masturbate too much. He specializes in sex therapy for women and after a few visits of discussing why I think masturbating at least once every day is too much, he's moved our sessions into more intimate territory. He asks me if I would share a fantasy with him. A masturbation fantasy. Something I use in my head to excite myself.

I'm nervous about telling him, but I also realize I'm excited about it. I begin to tell him a rather tame one I've had where I'm "hired" by a couple who want to watch me masturbate. I tell him how I'm sitting in a chair with my legs spread and up on the arms, touching myself, as they sit on the couch opposite me and watch. I tell him how the man begins to get an erection and I can see it rising up through his robe.

The therapist interrupts me and I realize that I've closed my eyes. He asks me how I'm feeling telling him this. I tell him it's easier with my eyes closed. He wonders if I'm getting excited by relating this to him, and I tell him yes. He asks if that's what I like, being watched. I tell him yes. He asks me to continue.

I proceed on, telling him the details of this couple watching me. How the man eventually removes his robe and begins to stroke his...I stumble a bit. What do I call it? In front of my therapist? Do I say cock? Penis? I simply say erection and my therapist stops me again, noticing my uncertainty.

"What do you call it in your head?"

"Cock" I say.

"Well, unless you're too shy, you should say now what you say in your head."

Okay. I back track and say that the man removes his robe and begins to stroke his cock. I say that while he is watching me masturbate, I am watching him. His wife watches us both and we're all very excited. The therapist stops me again.

"Does this excite you? To watch a man stroke himself?"

Pause.

"Yes."

After a minute of silence, I continue on with my fantasy. My eyes are still closed, except for the times he interrupts me, when I open them and look at him. I'm somewhat embarrassed when I look at him, but not as embarrassed as I thought I would be. And I'm becoming more and more excited. I wonder how much I can continue without having to touch myself. In front of my therapist. But, even thinking that makes me ashamed.

I've been talking all this while, telling him the details of my fantasy, until he stops me again. Again, he checks in on how I'm feeling. He doesn't prompt me, so I just say I'm feeling excited. I say very excited.

"Would you like to masturbate now?"

My eyes fly open and I look right at him. My heart begins to pound and I find I'm a little scared. But also the idea of it is overwhelming. I almost spread my legs on impulse.

"You mean, right now? Here? In front of you?"

"Yes."

That's all he says. Yes. He leaves the rest to me. He looks so passive. Not the predator you would think of a man asking a woman if she wants to expose herself to him. He looks passive and almost clinical. He says nothing as my mind races and I bounce back and forth between all the emotions this brings to me. Fear, excitement, embarrassment, embarrassment at wanting to do it, desire for exposure.

"Okay" I say.

For a moment, we both just sit there. I don't quite know what to do and he seems to be patient to let me figure it out. I take a deep breath and begin to raise my skirt up to my hips. Underneath I have on only panties. I raise my skirt and slowly spread my legs. I am looking down at what I'm doing because I cannot yet look at him. I see that there's a wet spot on my panties and I'm embarrassed by this. I pause and try to decide if I'm going to actually take them off. And then I have a moment of surrender. To myself. To my desire. I want to do this, so I'm going to do it, dammit. I slide them down and off my legs and spread my legs apart.

Feeling the cool of his leather couch on my ass adds to the clinical feel of this whole endeavor. And I like that. This is for evaluative purposes. He wants to watch me so that he can determine something about me. So that he can truly help me.

He's been quiet throughout this, but then says,

"Are you okay?"

"Yes", I say. Looking up for the first time at him. He looks the same as he did the last time I looked at him. Passive. Comfortable in his chair. Looking me in the eye.

"Before we proceed, I want to tell you that I will, and am, going to become excited watching you. It's inevitable. I'm human and this excites me. Will that make you uncomfortable?"

"No", I say quickly. Because it won't, in fact, I quite like the idea. He knows this because of what I admitted from my fantasy a moment ago. I wonder if he wants, in this way, to make my fantasy a reality.

"I may need to" he pauses "attend to myself. I may need to stroke myself while watching you."

"Yes", I say somewhat breathlessly. I find as he's telling me this I've begun to spread my legs wider. He just nods and becomes quiet again. Slowly my hands make their way to my cunt and I begin to rub my clit. I am so wet at this point I'm sure I'm dripping onto his couch. I try to go slowly, I want to drag this out, I don't want to come on impact.

"So, you're masturbating and they're watching you" he prompts. Getting me back to my fantasy.

"Yes", but that is all I can say. My eyes are not closed. I am in this moment, not in my fantasy anymore. My eyes are open, my legs are spread, my cunt is dripping and exposed and I am looking right at him.

He sense this and just watches me. Our eyes are locked until, slowly, he lowers his eyes and watches my hands. I realize that is what I've wanted. I want him to watch me. I lower my left hand and spread my labia apart to expose my clit to my finger. An involuntary moan leaves my throat and I see him take a deep breath as he watches.

My eyes close for a minute as I become immersed in the pleasure and the excitement of this whole experience. I'm aware of him, but also need a moment to just feel myself. To feel my hands on myself. To feel how good it feels to be watched. By my therapist.

My reverie is broken by the sound of his zipper. I gasp a little as I realize what he's doing. I've not opened my eyes yet. I want to wait. After a moment I open them and see him sitting now rather upright in his chair with his erect cock in his hand. Slowly stroking up and down. And now I watch him. And we watch each other and the excitement and heat in the room is palpable.

Suddenly, as if overcome, he stands. His pants fall to the ground and he steps out of them. Slowly, still stroking his cock, he walks towards me.

"Can I be closer to you?"

"Yes...yes."

He comes so close he is almost touching the edge of the couch. His cock is close to me. I could almost lift up and pull it into my mouth. I am tempted to, but I resist. No, that's not for here.

I stop what I'm doing and quickly unbutton my blouse and remove it. I unhook my bra and remove it. I cup my breasts and squeeze my nipples.

"I want you to come on my tits."

He takes a quick step back and stops his motion.

"I don't know."

"Yes, I want that. Please."

I resume my attentions to my throbbing cunt and impulsively plunge one, then two, fingers into my hole. He sees this and begins again to stroke his cock. Now faster and in time to my motion. He steps forward again and we're so close. So synchronized. Our motions and emotions in tune to this moment of sharing our pleasure.

Stepping forward even more, I know he is going to come. I sit up straight and push my tits forward for him.

"Please."

With a wild moan at the back of his throat he pushes his hips forward and directs his stream of come onto my chest. Spurting over and over, groaning with release, I am overwhelmed and come with a loud cry.

"Oh, yes."

Time stands still for that moment and there's nothing in the room but our breathing and the smell of our sex.

Then he steps back and turning towards his chair begins to put himself to rights and dress. I grab the tissues and clean myself off and also begin to dress. When we're both somewhat together he sits back down and we sit in the silence. It's not uncomfortable.

"We've shared something that I think will benefit our work together greatly." he says quietly.

I smile and nod. Slowly I gather my things and stand. He stands as well and we both head towards the door. Putting his hand on my shoulder he leans in and softly kisses my cheek.

"You can call me if you need to." he says.

I nod acknowledgement.

"Otherwise, I'll see you next week."

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I Missed It!

I can't believe it, but I missed my anniversary here! Too distracted.

On Febuary 2, 2007 I posted an introduction and my very first blog post here at Paradise Tied Up. It's been a full and changing year and much of it was recorded here.

The friends and acquaintances I've made through this blog, and others, have been invaluable. You've been honest and open and funny and complimentary. I appreciate every comment made and the dialogue we've had.

Thank you for sticking with me, for listening, and for helping me to continue to open and unfold and discover my sexual self.

Party Reprised

They were there. My lovely, young couple that I played with at the last party. We were all glad to see each other and ended up spending much of the evening together, and not just on our backs, as it were. We chatted and danced a bit and enjoyed each others company.

Until a spot became available and he grabbed it. It was very crowded in the back of the room, every square foot of vertical space was taken for most of the night. We had been hovering some, waiting fairly patiently. Once we moved into our space she leaned in and kissed me for all she was worth. She'd been waiting for that, I think. Laying me back and attacking my pussy as if it was something she'd been anticipating with glee. And he was behind her. Watching. Fucking her. She didn't for a moment become distracted by his ministrations from those she was plying on me. A testament to her desire. She lapped and sucked and fucked me with the glee of a child with a new toy.

Then he was next to me. His hands somewhat roughly pulling my lace bra down and exposing my nipples. He pinched and squeezed and pulled them like a man who knew how I wanted it. He seemed to and I wondered how. Transparent, I am. I looked up at him as he reached into his briefs and pulled out his cock. I grabbed it and began to stroke him. I licked my hand to supply lubrication making my hand a tunnel into which his cock entered. I so wanted him in my mouth, but the angle wasn't right. So, instead, he forcefully pushed his finger into my mouth. Wordlessly commanding me to suck. It was at that moment she pushed her fingers in just right and pressed her tongue with the perfect pressure on my clit. My back arched and I moaned my climax aloud.

To the left of us a few people were watching and I heard a man say, "They're hot!". Perfect words for an exhibitionist to hear.

Note: I haven't forgotten the tag, LG. I'll get to it.

And So It Goes

Not to directly insult my male friends and readers, but men really do suck. There's a point at which they can't have a conversation, or say an honest word, or even communicate.

The Latin has disappeared. This was, I suppose, predictable to some degree. A mutual friend confirms that he is unreliable and can be completely ass-hatted. There's nothing to be done but move on and reflect.

Initially, when I realized that the silence was fairly lodged in the here and now, I, like so many women before me, wondered what is wrong with me. What have I done? What have I not done? And on and on... You've heard this from me before so I won't subject you to my singularly cruel self-denigration.

But, after I spoke to my friend who knows him and assured me this is not surprising behavior for him, I felt better.

So, well, at least I had a few weeks of some great sex. And interesting conversation.

Now, it's on to a party. Saturday night. I mean, I have to take my clothes off for someone!

A New Appreciation for Cunnilingus

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Easy Post Friday or Being Tagged

Rupert up at the Chateau has tagged me and since I'm rather barren of words these days I'll take the opportunity to both a) write about sex and b) not have to think too much about what to write and still provide you with a post. Nice!

1.) What's the largest thing you've ever put in your ass?
Well, I didn't put it in, but I guess I'd have to say a cock. Although, luckily for me, it wasn't a very big one.

2.) What's the oddest object you've put inside your body(ass/pussy)?
I really had to give this some thought. I'm not one of those folks who tried toothbrush or hairbrush handles when I was young (or even now!). A carrot, I guess. In my cunt.

3.) What's the most public place you've ever had sex?
Other than a sex club and a sex party with 150 people? A Dead show.

4.) Are you naughtier in your head than you are in your bed?
Most definitely. I think this fantasy is quite naughty and I'm fairly certain it will never happen.

5.) Masturbating - what do you call it?
Um, masturbating. In fact, the word itself kind of turns me on.

6.) Would you, could you, in a car? On the highway? In a bar?
I have done it in a car, on the highway, in a bar! I have done it merrily, it is so good, so good you see!

7.) What do you think is your most sexually attractive feature?
I think my lips. I have somewhat full, soft, kissable lips and it's one of my very most favorite thing to do for hours and hours.

8.) What do other people think is your most sexually attractive feature?
I've been told I should consider being a sex phone operator on the side for extra money, so I guess my voice.

9.) Do you have an instant turn-on spot on your body? If yes, where is it?
My neck. Kiss my neck in the right way, soft and moist, and I'm yours instantly.

10.) Is there anything you want to do that you're too chicken to try?
It's so hard to say. I used to think I would never in my life give a strange man a blow-job in a sex club surrounded by people, including his wife. So, I think anything I say I'm chicken to do I'll end up doing anyway. :)

I'll turn it around and tag LG down south and that's it. My other blogger "friends" who haven't been tagged already aren't really survey types. I'm sure LG will give answers enough for a few. :)

A Snippet...

Well, nitebyrd's comment in my last post has compelled me to write and say, at the least, hello. I know I've been disturbingly silent and I apologize. Other than the exhaustion from being so thoroughly fucked, work is kicking my ass right now.

I'll tell you this though, my guy has a great cock. Really. First of all, he's cut, and I admit to a preference there. And he's thick. Nice and thick. Fills me up perfectly. He's not particularly long (I haven't broken out the ruler, so I can't give you true dimension), but trust me when I say he's long enough. I'm not very good at deep throat, but I can tell by his reaction that the depth to which I can "swallow" him whole, which is not the full length of his cock, works very well.

I have a bit of a desire to give him a trim because he's a bit hairy in that area. He's not particularly hairy in general, though, which is good because I don't care for that (I know, I'm picky about things, what can I say?). I'll either broach the topic at some point when we're more comfortable, or I'll just get used to it. Probably the latter.

Well, there you go. A little something to tide you over until my time is more my own. Right now, it's back to work....

¿Por qué el silencio?

It's been quiet in Paradise, I know. Luckily, for me anyway, it's not because my libido is on strike this time.

I've met someone. Someone I've known, actually, for a long time. Well, known is too strong. We've been in the same place at the same time on numerous occasions because we have people in common. For some reason, and really who cares what, we noticed each other on New Years Eve.

We had a great time talking and dancing and generally being like, "Huh, you look different to me and I can't tell why." At the end of the party we went home together and had great sex. Really great sex. We seem to be compatible in that way and it's lovely. And we want more. Of everything.

The silence is because I haven't really wanted to give details about the "Really great sex" and, I'm sorry to say, I probably won't. This is different. This is not an internet ghost. This is a real person, a real man, with whom I seem to be developing a real relationship. We saw each other yesterday for a lovely walk in the freakishly warm weather we had and have plans to see each other again twice this week. So, this, my friends, is for real. This is closer to my heart. What we've shared has been intimate. It's sex and then some.

I'm feeling protective of our time together. Protective and maybe a little superstitious. I don't want to bare all and then if it falls apart feel like I jinxed it. I feel a little like I might be jinxing it right now, but I actually have more confidence in this than I have in anything for the past couple of years. This is the difference between someone who has real history with people I know and someone who has appeared from the internet out of thin air, where there's no paper trail, so to speak.

It may not stay this way and I could become inclined to share some detail here and there. Maybe a little, maybe a lot. There's no telling. But, for now, I'm playing this close to the vest.

It doesn't mean the end of Paradise, though. I still have many fantasies that are just dying to be recorded here. As with all my writing, inspiration is all.

* The reason for the Spanish title to this post? He's Latin. Just imagine! A Latin lover. mmmm....