The week so far (3/3) January 28, 2011
Posted by Leah in Cunnilingus, D/s, Fisting, Fucking, Masturbation, Repeated hookups.12 comments
— Wednesday —
Amadeo has a large hand. Lubrication dripped from it and soaked the bedspread. Three fingers were in me, fucking in and out of the slit. A fourth, the pinky, easily joined the others. He poured more of the oil into the trough of his fingers and folded the thumb between them.
I didn’t have a clear view of what was happening. The constant stream of commentary allayed any trepidation I felt. Amadeo wanted to fist me. As I said, his hand is large.
Four fingers had slipped in to the bottom knuckle. The palm flared out just beyond.
The air entered and exited my lungs in shallow convulsions, the intake of breath in time with a thrust inside, a sharp gasp released, and an exhale as he pulled the hand fractionally out and twisted.
“I am going to push now,” he informed.
I nodded consent. I took a deep breath and held it. My ass tilted up from the mattress.
He pushed. I bore down with my muscles, chomped my teeth together, and grunted. The pussy stretched to admit his hand.
I looked down again at the space between my legs when the movement had finished.
“Almost there,” he said. The hand rotated but its forward motion diminished.
The thumb had almost disappeared. Amadeo’s hand had inched inside to the very bottom where the heel and the base of the palm jutted out.
He poured out more of the lubricant. My cunt ached.
He kissed the top of my pussy. His tongue swept over the clitoris. “Ready?” he asked.
I looked him in the eyes and rolled my head back and closed my own. My thighs parted. I swallowed another deep breath. He pushed again, adding a sideways twist to his movement. The breaths came hard and heavy. So also the groans. He pressed down, and I struggled to relax my muscles and allow the walls of the vagina to go slack. When he stopped forcing his hand at me, he was inside to the wrist. Always, when I am fisted, it looks amazing.
We had fucked first. He had employed the metal dildo that he had given me. We had inserted a thick cucumber wearing a condom. It had taken us fifteen more minutes to secrete his hand inside. He wiggled his fingers then. I felt them move.
I looked down at him and smiled. The smile became a chuckle and then a deep throated laugh. The intensity of the experience was overwhelming. This was a moment of nervous relief. A sense of satisfaction and accomplishment covered me like a warm blanket.
Amadeo pivoted his hand and settled the wrist. The entrance to the vagina made a tight band around him. He stretched his fingers experimentally, pushing against the deep spot in the back that I had told him about. I winced at the contact with the cervix and purred when he found the swollen bundle of nerves inside.
It took another ten minutes for him to collapse his hand into a fist. The walls of the cunt were elastic. They made room. But their plasticity came with strain and effort. I swam in my perspiration. The hair plastered to my forehead. My breasts reflected the bright bedroom light. Sweat stung my eyes. I blinked the prickling away.
He spun the fist inside me. He jostled the hand at the wrist, moving forward and backward an infinite inch, punching into the vacant space.
He tongued around my pussy, lapping at the distended, engorged clitoris. He touched a vibrator to the agonized bundle of nerves and rolled his right hand within me. His left hand, splayed over the curve of my belly, held me to the bed. The fingers clenched and unclenched inside. The knuckles pressed at the G-spot. The face of the finger rubbed against the anterior fornix.
I clutched his forearm in a death grip and came. This connection — the whiteness in my knuckles — was my anchor to the world.
Once the orgasms started, they would not stop. A dam had burst. The levees had broken. The waters escaped the walls of the vagina. They cascaded out the pores in front. The clitoris twitched constantly. My moisture sluiced between his fingers. At the end of it, once Amadeo had extracted his sodden hand from my pussy aided by muscles pushing, he brought his head down to snap up the labia with his lips. His head shook from side to side like a dog’s, and he rasped his tongue over my clit. I squirted square into his face.
The week so far (2/3) January 27, 2011
Posted by Leah in Masturbation.2 comments
— Tuesday —
Tim is my best friend in graduate school. He is one year ahead of me, five years older, and acted as something of a big brother when I started. We have slept together a couple of times, but decided that we were better as friends than as friends with benefits. He turned thirty yesterday. I phoned to wish him a happy birthday.
I called a few hours before he went out to celebrate the occasion with his friends. On my end, it was just before bedtime. Toward the end of the conversation, once we had finished catching up about life and work, Tim asked if I was horny and wanted to play a little on the phone. I immediately agreed. Shedding my pajamas, I spread out on the bed and caressed the hemispheres of my breasts. One hand held each, weighing them momentarily. As Tim described the hardness of his cock in Boston, I mashed my tits flat, squeezing the flesh, compressing, rougher with my body than most lovers are with me.
Tim said he was stroking himself thinking of me naked and available for him.
I told him I would go to my knees and lick the insides of his thighs and lap at the joining of his legs. I would suck his balls, one of them at a time, lips discovering their shape. The rounded bulges they make against the skin of the scrotum exist for kisses. I wanted to nose along the length of his shaft. I would steeple my hands about the cock and suck wetly at the head, lapping the precome that saturated the crown. I promised to swirl my tongue round and round the glans. I wanted to look up at him with big eyes while I took his cock into my mouth fractionally deeper until I contained him in my throat and the head made a lump in my neck that he could see and touch. I would breathe carefully through my nose, spin my lips at the base, press my fingers against the back face of his sac, and swallow to massage the glans with the muscles of my throat.
Across the Atlantic, I heard him jerking his cock.
Remembering blowjobs past, I wanted him to bundle my hair in his grip, catching the stray locks that fell over my eyes. I recalled how he fondled my tits and ran his hands over back and shoulders while I sucked his cock and scratched at his thighs and clawed at his buttocks. I would lick the sweat from his balls and his groin.
I touched my pussy as I chronicled the act of fellatio.
Tim took up the narrative thread and explained how he would start at my breasts and work his down to my cunt, kissing each square inch of skin as he progressed to his ultimate goal. Once there, he would lick all around before addressing the pussy itself.
Fingernails peeled apart my lips. They carefully brought down the hood to expose my clitoris. A pair of fingers slipped halfway inside. They extracted the wetness at the entrance, smeared it across the roof of the clit. I diddled myself as I listened to Tim detail his oral ministrations.
I wanted to fuck him.
This was a fantasy. There was no need to think about horrid condoms. In my mind’s eye, I saw his bare cock enter me, Tim’s maleness driving into my vagina, the soft skin cloaking the hardness underneath, a rigid penis in contact with pliant muscle. My snug cunt embraced him. Cream from my pussy lubricated the motion. His erection would stretch my walls, dragging along them as he plunged headlong into me. The goatee would tickle during the kisses that we would share.
My feet were flat on the mattress. The kneecaps lifted like mountain peaks. I pressed the glass dildo against the opening. The bulbous knob on top poked past the labial flaps. I spun the glass in a way a cock cannot.
Theme and plot were dispensed with in our story. The sentences became emphatic rather than descriptive. I implored him to take my cunt as I hammered my pussy with the dildo.
“Oh, yes. Oh, fuck!”
“Oh, shit!”
“I am on top, fucking you.”
“Fuck me hard. Have me as your bitch. Come for me.”
Harsh breathing answered my heavy moans. I tried to time my climax to coincide with his. I did not succeed. Tim announced his orgasm and came with an explosive sigh. I imagined his semen leaking out of me. I pictured how I would lick the cock clean of his come and my juices. Dildo abandoned to these thoughts, I rubbed my clit vigorously until I also shuddered. It took me a few extra minutes.
Afterwards, we chatted in a pleasant shade of afterglow. Fingers soothed over my still wet pussy.
The week so far (1/3) January 27, 2011
Posted by Leah in Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Random hookups.5 comments
— Monday —
I went to Daniel’s to pick up some music. He is a molecular biologist. He also plays the flute. We have had flirtatious conversations at a couple of parties.
When I arrived, he gave me the sheet music and mentioned some points the orchestra had gone over in the rehearsal that I had missed. We chatted afterwards, and he offered a beer. While we sat drinking, he made the typical guy move of stretching his arm along the back of the sofa. We spoke of our days. Before long the bottle in my hand was empty. I went to the kitchen to retrieve another pair of beers, and on my return, I positioned myself closer to him so that our thighs were flush. The arm draped behind me again.
A few drinks later, after learning that he had recently broken up with his girlfriend, I initiated contact. Pulling the sleeve of his t-shirt up, I planted a soft kiss atop his right bicep. He knew what to do after that: his arm lowered slightly and the hand pressed against my shoulder. I twisted into his body, and we kissed. I tasted the hops on his lips.
Daniel brought his weight forward, which sent me toppling. My legs separated automatically, and he occupied the space they had left. We made out from a horizontal position. Hands ran along his back and extracted the t-shirt from the waistband of his shorts. Daniel has hair longer than my own. As I combed my fingers through the locks, the incipient hardness in his pants poked at me. My pelvis elevated to encourage the erection along. I liked slipping my tongue between his lips.
When my eyes flashed open in a gap between kisses, I noticed my backpack lying on the floor. My purse wasn’t inside. I had left it in the handbag at home. I only carried my wallet.
“Do you have condoms?” I asked.
“I don’t think so.”
“Too bad. We will have to save the fucking for another time.” I kissed him again.
My fingers plucked at his belt. I had the shorts off, and his briefs followed. As Daniel pulled the t-shirt up over his head, I kicked off my shoes and undressed from the waist down, tossing the clothes onto the chair opposite. His living room could have used considerably more heat. I told him I was cold. Once I removed the bra, I put the sweater top back on.
We sat on the couch and sipped our drinks. He pulled the top down far enough to expose my nipples, to which he latched on. He left them peaked and wet. His lips traveled from my mouth to the side: across the cheek, down the neck to the collar and up again to the ear. He nibbled on the lobe and on the flexible cartilage at top. His tongue snailed over the ridges and licked behind. As he teased the tongue over my teeth, I reached for his penis, which was slender and long. A hand spanned the shaft: from below the head to most of the way down. I straddled his lap. Two hands tugged, as though I was pulling on rope. My pussy was moist. I touched the glans to my belly and edged his foreskin down.
Bringing the cock upright, I knelt on the sofa cushion and took him inside my mouth. Daniel began gasping at once. His hand covered the nape of my neck and steadied my head as I sucked him. Lips applied consistent pressure as I bobbed over him. Releasing the shaft momentarily, I flickered my tongue over the balls. When I touched my tongue to the bead of precome at the tip and pulled back, it extended as a silken strand, then bowed under its weight and broke. He had a slight tang. I held the sac while I fellated, batting the balls around with my fingers.
Daniel pointed his penis vertical, and I accepted the cock deeper into my throat. Holding tightly to the base, I sucked faster. Saliva full of bubbles descended along the sides of the shaft. It made my fingers sticky and saturated the mat of pubis. He verbalized his pleasure.
Daniel liked touching me. Using the fingernails like forceps, he tweaked my nipples through the sweater. His hand caressed the top of my thigh and stroked the rump where it protruded. He manipulated my pussy. The fingertips slid along the slit. They didn’t sink inside. The fingers merely padded up and down, from below the clitoris to where the cunt lips pinch off at bottom and to the perineum slightly underneath. Reaching between my legs, he cupped me from behind. While he stroked the labia, I was conscious of the moistness of my pussy, how it oozed with arousal and the need that the conscious part of my brain would not permit me to sate. I wanted to be fucked by the cock in my mouth. I wanted to ride Daniel to an exquisite orgasm.
Instead, I kept sucking. My grip twisting along the base of the shaft, I rolled my fingers and pulled the skin taut. Lips running along the bottom surface of the erection, I mouthed the underside of the penis. I applied the lightest touch of teeth across the crown, holding the head that way for an instant before enveloping him again with the warmth and the wetness of my mouth. Sensing the approach of orgasm, I shifted to the floor. My fingers ringed around the beam. I sucked only the glans. Face pointed at the ceiling, I angled my head up and ensured eye contact. “Come in my mouth,” I told him.
I continued masturbating Daniel with my fingers with the knob balanced on my bottom lip. The first splash of semen landed on my chin. The rest of it fell on my tongue. It didn’t shoot out with any force. He was a dribbler. I jerked him until the ejaculation completed and my tongue was coated. Looking up at him, I thrust the whiteness of the semen between my lips so that it nearly spilled over, so that he could see. And then I gulped all of it down. I made sure to collect the come on my jaw and lick that from my fingers as well. He smelled of bleach and had a sharp and slightly unpleasant aftertaste. I didn’t care. I felt sexy on my knees.
It was my turn next. Daniel ate pussy like one who was ravenous. I intend to fuck him after the next concert.
A note of gratitude January 23, 2011
Posted by Leah in Blogroll, Gallimaufry.4 comments
The Anti-Cougar has written me a lust letter. We have never met, but I think she and I would have a grand time over drinks and then a long and sleepless night.
I am not to speak, she instructs. But there is a loophole in the lady’s command. I can still type.
Yes, Anti-Cougar, I want your pussy so very much. I want to press my tongue in your cunt and slake my thirst in the waters. I want to close my eyes and take deep sniffs of your feline scent while I suck upon your clit. I want to touch you with infinitely knowing fingers and reach inside for that deep spot that makes you gush like a fountain. I want the flavors of your orgasm on my palate. I want the soprano notes you make as your hands clench the bedsheets that we have dirtied together. I want to lift my arms up to cup your breasts and pinch those pebbly nipples. I want to screw the dildo inside and fuck you the way your young lover does with a hard, thick cock. I want to deepthroat the false glass penis once you have climaxed and then come myself in the very same manner as you. I want to fall to slumber beside you with orgasm heavy limbs. I want this.
Thank you for the gift of your supple words and the lovely images. I shall dream of you tonight.
As well, I simply must add a yo-yo to the toy collection.
The death of Craigslist January 22, 2011
Posted by Leah in Craigslust.25 comments
Slut for cock – w4m
I’m a submissive woman in search of no strings attached casual kink. I want a sexual adventure. Most likely, this will be a one night stand, but depending on how things go, a fuck buddy arrangement could be possible. I am uninhibited in bed. I enjoy rough sex and get off on pain. You should try to break me. You should use my body. Treat me like a rag doll. Play with your new fuck-toy. Put me through my paces. Exert your power and dominance over me. Claim each of my three holes for yourself. They exist for your pleasure. Make me work for my orgasms. In the process, have me believe that I am every inch your slut. I want to be taken. I want to be shaped. I want to be fucked.
Please send a scenario for a play date. If you have a fantasy you want to accomplish, tell it to me. Be specific. Be literate. Bad writing is a turn-off. If your indecent proposal resonates, I will be in touch.
I am looking for a partner who is intelligent, witty, and creative. To get into my pants, first you must get into my head. Impress me with your mind. It helps if you also make me laugh. Age, race, and national origin are not relevant considerations. Physical attraction matters. Include face and body pictures in your reply. You should be clothed. While I may want to see your genitals in my inbox, I don’t need to see them there right now. I will assume the plumbing works as it should.
I posted the ad with minor variations to the casual encounters board several times. Each attempt ghosted. Craigslist said the ad had posted and gave me the url, but it never appeared in the listing. I changed my dummy e-mail address and login and tried again. This time the ad appeared and stayed up for nearly two hours. I received fifteen replies in this time.
My post provided a template for a response. A third of the guys didn’t follow directions and either attached no photo at all or a penis picture. Two of these asked if I was for real. Another five were too brief to convey intent. Two more were form letters that I had seen before. One recognized me from the blog and offered good luck. The two semi-legitimate replies didn’t interest. I considered them briefly only because the other options were so much worse. I could have reposted, but instead I abandoned the effort.
An ad yielding no dates would have been unthinkable one year ago in Boston. Craigslist has been on a precipitous decline for many months. I am not imagining this. Liz Doherty, Amber Alert, and Bareback Grrl have also documented the sorry state of the list.
I suspect that some of the flagging is due to men attempting to kill a post in order to stave off competition after they have responded. It’s a counterproductive strategy, but at least there is a rationale. I think this is an effect at the margins, however. Possibly readers might mistake my ad for a professional service and report it. But I don’t expect this to be the case as the tone of an escort ad is quite different. By far the largest problem seems to be men who flag ads to prevent w4m classifieds from appearing at all. I don’t know whether this is some disgruntled guy who isn’t getting any and acts to prevent others from enjoying success. I don’t know if it is some moralist. London is certainly awash in m4m ads. Maybe the men looking for this are also the ones flagging w4m posts. I have heard anecdotally that the better written m4w ads suffer the same fate. This could be an instance of Gresham’s Law in action.
The fact is that I am being driven out. Other women are as well. And so too are the partners who we seek.
I am an opportunist. I can find casual sex without much difficulty. I employ Craigslist to acquire kink. This tactic is no longer effective. I need to try something else. But there isn’t an alternative that occupies the same niche. So I am at a loss. Advice is appreciated.
Leah rides again January 20, 2011
Posted by Leah in Bondage, Breath play, D/s, Fellatio, Fucking, Masturbation, Repeated hookups, Spanking.8 comments
I had sex every day from New Year’s Eve until I returned to London. In the UK, until yesterday night, I had no sex at all. The brief flirtation with celibacy ended with an evening in Amadeo’s company. I had missed his presence in my life as a dominant and kinky lover.
• I liked sitting on his lap and having him reach up my dress to stroke my pussy through the mesh panties. The teasing fingers over the lips made me wet inside and out. I lifted his shirt and ran my hands over his chest. The fluffy curls of hair tickled my palms.
• Amadeo shucked my dress up over my breasts and had me lean against the wall with my ass jutting out. As he spanked my buttocks, turning the skin a warm shade of red, he gathered my hair in his fist and wrapped it around his hand. Using the grip like reins, he compelled my head backward to expose my throat, which he covered with hungry and wet kisses. The points of incisors and canines bit into my neck.
• On his bed, first he fingered my cunt while stopping my mouth with his kisses. Amadeo let me taste myself on his skin. Then he tightened the pussy slick hands over my throat and sunk his tongue deep in my mouth while he controlled my breathing. The blood rushed to my face, and the shortness of air left me feeling lightheaded.
• He brought my legs in the air and shifted them apart just far enough to spank my pussy. The slap of the fingers over my clit made me scream. Though the nerves throbbed and the vulnerable flesh sang with pain, I secretly thrilled at the intensity of the sensation. I wanted to hurt: he knew and made it happen.
• Amadeo placed a collar around my throat. He squeezed his grip under the leather and dragged me across the floor. Attaching a leather cuff to one of my wrists, he affixed a chain and wrapped it around the radiator in the bedroom. I lay on the floor while he toyed with my tits and slapped them in between a succession of kisses.
• The tip of Amadeo’s tongue flicked at my tears.
• I loved when he finally undressed and let me suck him, shackled and naked as I was. Fingers shifting through my hair, he gripped the back of my head. The pelvis thrust at me. The front of the shaft sliding along the cushion of my bottom lip, he fucked my face with shallow strokes.
• Amadeo threw me onto the chair in the corner of the room. Neck bent, my head rested against the bottom of the cushion. Gripping the backs of my calves, he held my legs in the air. The cock stretched me open.
• A finger hooking through the metal ring on the collar, he tugged me up as the penis stabbed itself deep into my cunt. He cuffed the sides of my face. He struck my breasts. I panted and gasped as I held on to his thigh to balance myself while he fucked me.
• Amadeo turned me around and held my head down by the back of the neck over the wooden railing of the chair. Hands clawing at the buttocks, he fucked me from behind. His nails scratched down the expanse of my back. He pulled my hair, and he bit.
• Amadeo folded over his leather belt and swung it at my shoulders. The doubled over strap fell on the rise of my breast. My ass rocked backward against his groin. I wailed in the buildup to orgasm.
• We traded positions: he sat in the chair, and I straddled him. Holding me by the shoulder and the hip, he forced me to hunch down over his cock. I grabbed the edge of the bookshelf above me and impaled my body onto the spike. Biting my lip and moaning, I bounced myself over pelvis and groin.
• He squeezed a much abused breast, held the nipple with his teeth, and dashed his tongue over the top as the walls of my vagina imploded about his shaft.
• We moved to the bed after that, where he fucked me from a perpendicular position beneath me. His fingers tugged at the collar around my neck. I came explosively, and this time there was no respite: Amadeo continued until his own explosion took him. Peeling the condom from his cock, kissing the semen where it trailed over his drooping length and his balls, I sucked him clean.
• After that, he brought out his Christmas present for me: a heavy steel dildo with a sensuous curve. He dragged it slowly past my pussy lips. We played with it. We played with it a lot: the pressure sent me to squirting orgasms while he licked at my clitoris.
Leah Lays London 