Carnal Embrace

He had his finger up my ass. Actually, I wasn’t quite sure where it was. I hadn’t been expecting it. Wait, yes, that was indeed his finger. And that was definitely my ass.

Let me backtrack a bit. There was more to it than the rectal massage. I couldn’t believe it, but someone was seriously using the shocker on me. You know, “two in the pink and one in the stink”? Yeah, that one.

I wasn’t happy about it. I should have registered some sort of complaint, but what’s a polite bed-partner to do? It didn’t really call for a protest on Sproul Plaza. Perhaps a letter?

“Dear sir, I regret to inform you that your application into my anus has been rejected. Kindly remove your little-most finger from that area at the earliest possible moment. Best wishes, Christine.”
(more…)

So there I was, my guy friend lying face-down across my legs and my hands touching and rubbing and squeezing his ass. And spanking. How could I forget spanking?

I was spanking my friend. Not friend with benefits. Not fuck-buddy. A plain ol’ platonic friend. The boring type.

He was enjoying it, too. He moaned with each spank, especially for the stinging ones, and asked for it harder. I was hoping his ass would get sore and then it’d be my turn. Baby’s been a bad, bad girl. Very naughty. And she, too, needs a spanking.

And since when did guys like — let alone beg for — spanking? Okay, so I’m forgetting some homoerotic fraternity practices, but that’s beside the point. I’m just pissed I didn’t get spanked.
(more…)

“Hand jobs are a man’s job,” said one guy on the topic of sexual dexterity. Girls, quite frankly, just kinda suck at them. And not in a good way (Then it’s no longer a HJ, you see?)

Now I’m not saying the hand job is obsolete or that it should be utterly ignored. Moderation, people — you know that guy is already jerking it twice a day. He probably doesn’t need another yank on his tool (though I’m sure he’d like something else on his screwdriver.)

There is an appropriate time for a hand job, and it exists after making out and before any other type of sex. Well, okay, if you’re part of the small percentage of women who can actually pull one off without damaging your partner’s little guy then you could perhaps make a day of it. Generally speaking, though, the hand job can only really function as a segue into something better (and less tedious).

I see you insisting on a little manual on his spaniel. Calm down, sex pot. There’s one rule to follow, okay? One absolute law, never to be broken. You ready for it? (more…)

The bedroom is a magical place. Your penis becomes a big fucking cock. Your vagina becomes a sweet pussy or (if you want it hard) an eager cunt. We’re getting down and dirty, and I kinda like it. (As usual.)

Remember way back when I said the mind is an erogenous zone? Well, now’s your chance to listen talk it up. I want to hear your sexiest in-the-sack sweet nothings. What’s that? (Pussy)cat got your tongue?

I thought so. Talking dirty can be incredibly sexy, but so many people don’t know how to do it or feel uncomfortable doing it. Case in point: I’m minding my own business on AIM when an old flame IMs me. “I’m talking to this girl online and I need to talk dirty to her. Can you send me some naughty talk you’d like to hear?” For you, no. But for my readers, oh yes yes YES!

Start simple, honey. Here’s an easy one: (more…)

Earlier this week I covered (or rather uncovered) the intricacies of the bosom. In a similar vein, I’d like to expand the discussion to erogenous zones (EZ is easier).

In the presumptious film The Meaning of Life, the Monty Python troupe best — and most cheekily — introduces a few EZ’s in a scene at a school. We happen upon the beginning of a most awkward sex education lecture, in which Mr. Humphrey quizzes his pupils:

Humphrey: So, just listen. Now, did I or did I not… do… vaginal… juices?
Pupils: Mmm. Mmm. Yes, sir. Yes, sir.
Humphrey: Name two ways of getting them flowing, Watson.
Watson: R - rubbing the clitoris, sir?
Humphrey: What’s wrong with a kiss, boy? Hmm? Why not start her off with a nice kiss? You don’t have to go leaping straight for the clitoris like a bull at a gate. Give her a kiss, boy.
Wymer: Suck the nipple, sir?
Humphrey: Good. Good. Well done, Wymer.
Pupil: Uh, stroking the thighs, sir.
Humphrey: Yes. Yes, I suppose so. Hmm?
Pupil: Oh, sir. Biting the neck.
Humphrey: Yes. Good. Nibbling the earlobe, uhh, kneading the buttocks, and so on and so forth. So, we have all these possibilities before we stampede towards the clitoris, Watson.
Watson: Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.

(more…)

I have a little ditty all ’bout titties. I’m not afraid to admit that I LOVE BOOBS. Not just my own. I like to stare at other boobs, to envy them, to think about them. There is something in their round, perky, bouncy nature that is just so damn fascinating.

And this fascination holds true for many people, regardless of sexual orientation or gender. One of my gay guy friends loves to feel his fag hag’s fun bags. I’m not sure if it is a sexual or sensual pleasure for him, but I’m sure glad he appreciates roaming her mountains. Or hills, rather. She ain’t that big.

Whether you’re a member of the itty bitty titty committee, a ‘normous knockers nymph, or a wight without, you need to at least respect the womanly chest. Maybe even love it. After all, we’ve all suckled on some mammaries when we were babies. (And if you didn’t, you missed out and should make up for lost time.)

Boobs are important. Truly madly deeply they are. Some women can even orgasm from a nice fluff of their dirty pillows. (more…)