jump to navigation

Home for Xmas December 29, 2011

Posted by Leah in Anilingus, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Fucking, Repeated hookups.
4 comments

I spent a week at home during the winter break. I took the train from Boston to New York City. I met up with my sister, and we drove upstate to the parents. We see extended family during Thanksgiving while Xmas is cozy and comfortable. It’s usually only the parents and my siblings. Because my brother went to visit his girlfriend’s mother’s family in California this November, we had missed him last month. To make up for the lost time, we hung out lots.

~

The day after the day after Xmas, I met up with a former lover, who is seventeen years older than me. He taught my sister the piano, worked with my Mom, and is a family friend of long standing. I have known him almost my whole life. In May of 2010, we had a week long fling, which I initiated. At the time, he was in the final stages of a divorce. His wife had left him. We kept in touch afterwards. Last year, when I was home for the holidays, he was dating a woman, nearer to my age than his. This winter, he is single again and in the middle of a protracted dry spell.

I texted him over the kitchen table before lunch while my mother and sister were pottering around the oven. I slipped my right hand into my jeans and sent him a picture of the bulge it made in my pants. I sent a photo of my tongue flicking at the tip of a finger moistened by the secretions of cunt.

During the next half hour, I typed a series of SMS sexts.

Do you have a cock for me to play with, mister?

I want you inside me, lover. Your penis is a hot, thick presence that makes me flood.

I want to be under you.

Fuck my pussy hard. Please. Will you?

I could be persuaded to suck as well. Do you want my red lips wrapped about your shaft?

We agreed to meet at three o’clock in the afternoon.

I borrowed my Dad’s car and drove over to his place for our assignation. We sat in his living room and caught up over glasses of wine. He joined me on the small loveseat. We made out. The classical music station on the radio gave rhythm to our movements. He masturbated my pussy through the tight denim. I spread my legs wide. I touched knees and tightened my thighs around his hand. My chest thrust into a grasping palm.

Upstairs, in his bedroom, we continued. I sat on the edge of the bed, legs open, and he knelt on the floor and devoured my pussy. He stood and cupped my head at back where it joins the neck while I ingested his cock. My fingers grasped the balls and the last inch of the shaft, which I could not enclose within my mouth. The head nudged its way into my throat. Breathing carefully through the nose, I swallowed away the gag reflex and constricted the epiglottis. Lips pursed over the springy skin. My jaws were stretched enough that the sides of my face hurt. The tongue swiped across the underside of the shaft.

He took me doggy style to start. His hands pressed down at my back and buttocks while the cock drove deep into my cunt. The heavy balls slapped the backs of my thighs. I craned my head back to find his lips. The cock penetrated me slowly. I moaned as it tunneled into me. The walls felt full inside. Cream from my pussy trailed along the circumference of his cock. It deposited a ring of foam at the base of the shaft. When he warned me of his impending orgasm, by an exertion of will I freed myself of his erection, turned, and kissed his chest. I licked the sweat from his skin. The nipples were deliciously sensitive to the touch of lips and teeth.

I straddled his legs and pushed off his torso while I rode hard the hard penis. Hands clasped my leg at the knee and traversed the line of my thigh. He followed the curve of the flank up to my tits, which he squeezed. The up and down motion of my body had a metronomic precision. I slid down the stem and landed atop the root and tensed the muscles there as my knees folded out. The vagina compacted about the shaft, and I lifted while the walls were so tight inside. When my lips kissed the glans, I relaxed the muscles and lowered my body weight down again. He placed his fingers in my mouth, and I sucked them. He informed me that he was once again close, and I dismounted.

I was so close as well. He lashed his tongue around my clitoris. He growled into my gaping pussy. His nose flattened against my pubis. The dam inside me burst. My legs elongated. My feet curled. My toes clenched like a monkey’s paws. I shut my eyes to focus on the sensation, to revel in it. My ass bucked from the bed. My cunt seemed to invert. I laughed through my orgasm. When my eyes flashed open and focused downward, I noticed that my fingers gripped his so tightly that the knuckles had whitened. I laughed again at the exquisite and joyful pleasure of release. He crawled on top of my body and kissed me. I tasted my piquant juices on his lips and tongue.

My fingers combed his hair as the kisses deepened. The rigid cock prodded at my belly. Reaching between my legs, I placed him inside. “Fuck me. Fuck me till you come.”

He did exactly that. When his body slammed down, the momentum flowed from him to me in a wave that rippled through my trunk and radiated into my extremities. My spine did a sideways dance. My fingertips tingled. I felt the force of fucking in my eyelids. My arms wrapped his back, and I gripped his bony shoulder blades. My feet kicked off his calves. My legs interlaced with his and tangled them up in a knot. My face burrowed into his throat and collar. The shaft, which was so wondrously long and thick and hot, stretched my pussy out. I compressed muscles around his cock, making the entrance snug for him. I held on to the sides of the mattress as he took me harder.

My lover’s movements became erratic. He pulled the cock out of my pussy, peeled the condom off, and shucked his hand along the erection. The semen streamed out in bright, flashing ribbons. The come splattered me. It splashed the bottoms of my breasts and painted the cleavage between them. The viscous fluid rained onto my abdomen, collected in the hollow of my navel, and overflowed the belly button. The shaft jerked against my curling fingers as I pointed the penis. I giggled at how much come there was. Jellied puddles of his semen dotted my torso when he finished spasming. It was an alien landscape of opaque lakes. Over the sheen of perspiration, thick, viscid, sticky pools of come, pale and white, glistened on my skin like the first winter snow.

“Thank you,” I said, and rubbed his come over my body until it was a transparent gloss.

We fucked again, first in bed, then in the shower while we cleaned each other up. I drank his second orgasm, nearly as voluminous as the first. Semen overflowed my lips and dribbled down my chin and throat. He tasted of spice and salt. The third explosion, smaller than the previous two, arrived as I rimmed his asshole. My head ducked between his legs. The semen plastered wet hair to my face. A fog of steam surrounded us.

~

The family friend was not the only man I had on Tuesday.

The second is a friend from high school. Yoshio and I were in the class of 2003. I have known him since the fifth grade. Our first time was the summer after our freshman year of college. We have subsequently hooked up maybe a dozen times. I would date him in a second if he had an affinity for dominance and lived in the same city. Instead, he lives across the country, where he is working on a Ph.D. in aeronautical engineering.

We met for dinner and then went to a bar for drinks. We ended up at his house in the evening, where we played Scrabble with his little sister. I texted Dad near midnight, confessed that I was tipsy, and informed him that I would be home in the morning after crashing at Yoshio’s for the night. He texted me back: Ok. Be careful.

Ours are liberal families. My parents don’t know the details of my sex life, but they have no illusions about its existence. Yoshio’s parents retired early for the night. His sister’s bedroom is upstairs. We made up the couch in the living room with bedding but went to Yoshio’s room in the basement. When I left at nine, his parents were up and about and the sofa hadn’t been slept in.

I stripped to my panties and sat on his bed cross legged. Yoshio spread himself on the mattress. His fingers started at my shin and climbed to my knickers. The front panel of the thong underwear was a fine black mesh. He teased my cunt lips through the cloth. My moisture created bubbles in the filmy web of the fabric.

Fingers loosened his belt and the top button of his jeans. Taking the blue flap of denim in my teeth, a swift lateral movement of the head unbuttoned the fly. I nuzzled the swelling in his striped boxers. The erection left a dark shadow in the white cloth. I breathed upon the cock and pressed my lips over it until the cotton darkened with my moist breath. He smelled deliciously male. I tasted the musky skin. The heel of my palm flattened his balls. He brought the boxers down to his knees. The tumescent cock made a glorious contrast to the wiry black hair that covered his groin. I sniffed his length. Making my lips soft, I addressed his glans from below. Precome had already beaded at the slit. I kissed away the tears of the cyclops. Yoshio was content to have me suck him for a while. I sat up when his hand started to pull at my shirt.

He removed my blue sweater top and the light yellow tank top and the transparent black bra, which matched my sheer panties. I had his long sleeved shirt off and kissed his chest as I lifted the t-shirt away. We knelt and kissed on the bed. I chased his tongue from my mouth to his. Fingers traced the length of his spine, the pads pressing down where the back indented. Yoshio brought me over his lap and tugged on my ankles until the legs extended over him. His fingers feathered over the slit. Wetness seeped out. He sucked on his fingers. His head squeezing under me, he pulled the thong to the side and applied his tongue to the flow at the delta. I hunched my body over him, lowering my pussy across his open mouth, rubbing against his mandible, reaching for his cock in the process. Yoshio’s tongue threaded between my lips. I licked upward from the balls along the central vein on the bottom surface of the shaft.

He lapped my pussy for long minutes.

“Fuck me,” I said when he paused a moment to catch his breath. “I need your cock inside.” I peeled away the black thong panties in an instant.

He extracted a condom from his wallet and did what I asked. Supporting myself on forearms and knees, I arched over his torso. Left hand on my upper back, right hand on the rising curve of my rump, he steadied me while I pressed my cunt over the penis, which angled up from his pubis. On the initial foray, I tightened my pussy and balanced myself halfway. I hovered over the erection and resisted the downward compulsion of gravity and gratification. He laughed at the deliberate postponement of the fuck I had wanted and pulled me down by the waist. With the cock contained totally within, I spun my hips in a taut circle. My labia dragged against his groin.

He didn’t last long within me. His body tensed. The penis cocked and convulsed. He gripped me tight. I clutched the back of his neck and cooed to him while the condom filled with his spendings.

In the aftermath, we stretched out. Yoshio was on his back. I was on my side. My fingers wafted through the hair on his chest. We kissed. He stroked my breasts idly. As I fingered his cock, I admitted that I had been with another man a few hours before. I told him the two of them are so different, that I like them both very much. The penis stiffened against my palm.

He turned to his side and pushed me flat on the mattress. I hooked a leg across his flank. He paused to slip a condom on and used my thigh to lever his movement as the cock plunged in. He fucked me from below, thrusting with pelvis and hips while my fingers rubbed in circles over the clit. The flesh was fluid under my touch. I raised my leg to enhance the penetration. Slowly, my body turned around until I was on my belly and he was between my legs fucking me from behind. Our thighs were flush. Yoshio fucked my pussy with short jabs. We kissed.

I rose to hands and knees so that he could fuck me doggy style, but eventually, my body twisted around again. He fucked me from the side. His lips nuzzled along the line of my shoulder to my throat. When the cock slipped out of my cunt, he occupied the space between my legs and entered me from above. In the missionary position, we kissed endlessly with his cock inside me. As I had been stimulated so extensively, my pussy had a hair trigger. I came explosively. Yoshio kept his penis embedded and unmoving within. His palm cupped one of my breasts.

His eyes shut and his brow furrowed with the effort of concentration. He didn’t intend to come, but he couldn’t contain his eruption when my vagina wrung about his shaft. I gripped his forearm and kissed his throat.

I removed the condom and slurped the semen from his cock. The shaft hardened as I took him easily into my throat.

My fingers made my cunt yawn at him. “Do you mind that this little pussy hopped from another man’s bed to yours?” Experience has taught me that Yoshio liked to hear me speak about other lovers.

Yoshio gave a noncommittal grunt. He rotated so that he faced my cunt. His cock was stiffening before my eyes. His fingers reached for my pussy. He spread the wetness on the labia over my clit.

“Someone else bored into me this afternoon. He did me first. He made me cream. I used his semen for body lotion. I washed my face in it and swallowed his come.” Fingertips brushed along the furrow of his ass to his balls. They grazed across the back face of the scrotum. I plucked at the prickly hairs and batted the sac, which set the balls to a pendulous wobble. My tongue swirled around the head. I deepthroated him in a fluent and practiced motion. The points of painted nails dug into his buttocks. The cock ballooned, making my cheeks puff out.

“You’re spending the night with me, aren’t you?” The crown made a liquid plop as it evacuated my lips. Yoshio rolled another condom onto his shaft.

Last Thursday’s date September 6, 2011

Posted by Leah in Anilingus, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Fucking, Repeated hookups.
12 comments

We were in front of his bed, kissing. Our hands roamed over each other’s bodies. Mine traversed his broad shoulders and his muscular back and torso. His were in my hair. He tilted my face to improve the angle of lip lock. He also gripped my ass and hooked his hand under my leg to lift my thigh against his hip. I stood on tiptoes to bring my pubis into contact with his groin. As he kissed the side of my face and my throat, both of my hands worked under his short sleeved white shirt and smoothed over the hot skin. Once I had unbuttoned, my lips progressed intimately down his bare chest. Fingers stroked the tent in his trousers.

I went to my knees, unzipped the fly, and pulled the briefs down to his knees. I commenced fellatio. Marshall bundled my hair in one hand and held it out of my way while I gave suck. Rotating my face, I swallowed two-thirds of the shaft. My hand applied pressure to the balls. Fingers clutched the base of the penis and spun. Tightening on his ass and hip, I made an effort to inhale more of the cock. To my disappointment, I was able to ingest only three-quarters of his length. The glans stretched my throat. I appreciated the weight and the heaviness of the shaft over my tongue. My lips strained on the girth. Because I discovered that Marshall was especially sensitive even to the lightest touch of teeth, I made an effort to avoid any contact. My hands reached far above my head to cup his male tits. Pulling the cock from my mouth, I held it in front of me and addressed it from the side. My lips and tongue floated on a cushion of silky saliva down and back up the rounded edge. I kissed his hairy groin.

Marshall placed both of his hands on the back of my head. His pelvis thrust out, just as it had while we were dancing earlier, and he fucked his cock through my lips.

I held the penis vertical and sunk my head to his hanging balls. I sucked them individually and dragged my tongue back up the underside of the shaft and took the head into my lips again. With fingers in my hair or a hand on each shoulder, Marshall was content to let me suck him for long minutes. I took as much as I could, and whenever I needed air, I mouthed the penis from the side. The tongue concentrated especially on the parts at the bottom that I could not fit into my mouth. Stroking his erection, I covered his lower abdomen with a carpet of soft kisses.

He sat on the edge of the bed and let me undress him fully. On my knees hunched over a thigh, I held his balls and concentrated my attention to sucking just the head of the cock.

Marshall lifted my top off and unhooked the bra. Bringing me to my feet, he also stood and sucked each of my breasts. His mouth covered the areolae. His tongue flicked rapidly over my nipples. As he nursed, his hand tightened on the lower part of the breasts. I held on to his cock.

I wore a pleated black skirt — short — with a silver thong underneath and black leather boots that reached to the knees. Marshall unfastened the buttons at the side and hauled the skirt down my legs. I sat on the bed and shimmied out of my panties. I aimed the thong at him like a slingshot. When I let go, it tumbled in the air, struck his chest, and bounced to the floor. He pushed me flat over the mattress and unzipped the boots. Latching on to the darker cap of my thick gray socks, he tugged them free of my feet. Save for earrings and a necklace, I was naked.

He lowered his weight onto me. I wrapped my arms about his shoulders and gripped his body tight as we kissed audibly. His hand grasped one of my breasts. I held his thigh and scratched lightly with my nails. The cock prodded me from below. Marshall tongued each tit thoroughly. His lips descended slowly to where my legs met. The tongue lapped the navel in promise of what would follow. He teased me. His lips and tongue traced designs upon my thighs and over my smooth pubis. He cupped my breasts. He didn’t touch the pussy for long minutes.

Marshall lapped my cunt until I came. He licked the slit. Tongue squeezing past the labia, he dashed it wetly just inside the opening. His lips sucked hard over the clitoris. His teeth nipped gently at the swollen pussy lips. His nose mined into my pubis.

I spread my legs wide to encourage his explorations. My hands gripped the sheets tightly. I squeaked moans of pleasure into the night.

The pressure of his hand behind my knee lifted one of my legs. His mouth lowered to lap at the perineum. I felt the spit flow down to my anus. Grabbing hold of the lips again, his head shook from side to side. He was a dog chewing. And then he was a jungle cat patiently licking. My thighs compressed about the sides of his head. I gripped his hair to hold him to me. My orgasm exploded on his face. Blanketing my body with his, Marshall kissed me softly. I tasted my cream on his chin and his lips.

It was his turn. I urged Marshall onto his back and draped myself over his body. As I kissed him, my fingers renewed their acquaintance with his cock, which had remained hard. Just as he had done, my lips smooched his chest as I lowered. I noted the reflective sheen of sweat over the beautifully delineated pectoral and abdominal muscles. The skin had a touch of salt to it. Marshall’s hand stroked my back.

I kissed his glans. The tip of my tongue traced the veins on the bottom surface of the penis. I sucked on each hemisphere of the scrotum and felt the testicles moving under the skin, moving under my tongue, moving under the suction. My hand shucked over the shaft.

I asked Marshall to lift his legs into the air. My fingers prised the ass cheeks open. I lapped at his perineum and anus. Alternating between mouthing the balls, during which time my fingers layered spit over his asshole, and rimming those sensitive surrounding folds extravagantly, I listened to the sound of his groans. His sphincter embraced the tip of my tongue. The muscles had a velvet grip. I fell into the hole. My face buried itself in his ass.

When I took Marshall’s cock past my lips again, I saw tension in his musculature. I hollowed my cheeks and sucked hard on the shaft. My fingers rubbed his anus. My tongue rasped on the underside of the cock. My lips tightened their seal. My hand squeezed and released over his balls.

His body bucked from the bed when he came. The penis cocked and discharged. The recoil caused my lips to slip upward, but I clamped down below the glans. As he spewed, my index finger wriggled past the sphincter and applied pressure to the prostate. His muscles contracted around the finger. Semen flooded my mouth. This was a heavy orgasm. I tried to swallow it all, but some of his come escaped the corners of my lips. He tasted clean. The scent of the ocean filled my nostrils.

Since he had just come, it would be several minutes before he could fuck. But I knew he would last in my pussy once he was inside. I had him turn onto his belly and overlaid my body atop his and kissed the nape of his neck and the joining of his shoulder and throat. My hands massaged the muscles of his back. My tongue followed the ridges of the shoulder blades. I lifted his arms up and kissed his flanks. My mouth made a transit over the middle region. I dragged my cunt lips along the valley of his spine. They left a trail of moisture and settled at the small of his back.

Marshall edged me off his body. I knelt to his side and stooped to kiss him once more. At once, his hand stole between my legs. He fingered my pussy from below. The junction remained sticky from before. Droplets of arousal coated the labia. It was time for us to fuck. I extracted a condom from the box on the floor next to the bed, placed it over the top of the glans with my lips and rolled it down his erection.

He took me doggy style to begin. He commented that his thick cock had compelled my opening to stretch wide. I was tight inside. I was so wet for him. He held me by the buttocks as he stood on the floor, knees bent, and muscled his way into me. I moaned and told him how much I loved having him fuck me this way. Looking backward, I smiled and laughed with the pleasure of having him within.

We turned around. I was on the bed with arms up in the air, thighs splitting on either side of his hip, calves folded over his legs. His hands reached below my body and lifted me up toward him while his pelvis made a spin and a thrust. His cock was in me nearly completely. He withdrew only a small part of the shaft. I rolled my head on the pillow and raised my buttocks each time he fully lowered. The movement of his hips was a pulse that propelled through my skin. It made my breasts wobble. He sucked on my tits. I closed my eyes. Letting my weight sink into the mattress, I verbalized my approval of the things he was doing to me. He perspired heavily. I experienced the slide of Marshall’s body, slick with sweat, on top of me.

To make my pussy even tighter for his cock, he pressed my legs together. Holding them at the knees, he brought the legs up so that they were vertical and fucked me with metronomic precision. He groaned each time he thrust. I answered with a softer moan.

As he fucked me, I heard the ticking of the clock in the bedroom, his heartbeat, and my own. I placed my small hand atop his larger one. Marshall’s cock left me replete.

I came when he fucked me again in doggy fashion. This time he knelt behind me on the bed. The balls slapped against my pussy. The impact of his thighs upon mine set my ass to rippling. I knew because he told me. The muscles of my cunt wrung his cock. I bit my lower lip to forestall screaming. He kept driving the penis into me, which extended the orgasm.

Afterwards, he turned me around and fingered my post-orgasmic sodden pussy while kissing first my breasts and then my lips. Bracing his body mass with his arms, he sat on the edge of the bed. I mounted the penis. My forearms pushed off his shoulders, and I rocked myself over his cock. The muscles of my thighs directed the fuck. The sound of cock in pussy was liquid.

We ended with him on his back and me on top. I hunched myself over him. He held me by the ass and launched his cock deep into me at a frantic pace. Marshall had me coming constantly. He groaned throughout while I shrieked at the feeling of fullness in my pussy and the glorious sensation of getting fucked so very hard. He made an unintelligible utterance. It had the sound of speech at volume and a rising pitch. It was not English or Dutch or any other language. It was the raw expression of joy, an ancient pronouncement, ageless, ingenuous, candid, potent, sincere. He came in my cunt. The cock popped out during his intense convulsions. He shoved it back in where it belonged, and I tightened about it. After orgasm, he continued to thrust, softly now. He lifted me off his body after a while. I rubbed my slick pussy over the latex on his penis, then rolled my weight off him. With a pair of fingers inside me, his lips latched on to mine. He gave me his tongue.

La feuille de rose August 29, 2011

Posted by Leah in Anilingus, Fellatio, Repeated hookups.
2 comments

After my pussy had been devoured, Frank and I fucked. We dressed, went out for takeaway, came home, ate, drank, undressed, and, in bed naked, watched a DVD. The laptop was positioned on the edge of the table next to the bed. I snuggled myself into the crook of his shoulder. His arm draped over my chest. Frank played with my breasts on occasion, lifting them and lightly pinching the nipples. Sometimes, he reached down to brush over the pubis and finger the lips of my cunt. Most of the time, he simply held me. I scratched his arms and his thighs. We each had bottles of beer that we drank.

His penis stood at half mast, standing at attention on occasion and softening partway again. I touched his penis, but was in no hurry to fuck. I like the films the Coen brothers make.

Frank had other ideas, however. He jogged my elbow and pointed to his erection.

I giggled.

My lips clamped over the glans. The point of tongue slipped into the tortoise shell and flicked across the aperture at top. A steady tug on his shaft eased his foreskin down. I closed my eyes. The lips applied pressure and gave suck.

Frank gathered the hair that fell down the sides of my face and lifted it away. He exerted no force at all to the back of my head.

Filling my mouth full of saliva, I sucked him softly. My head lowered halfway down the scepter, then ascended again to kiss the crown wetly. Each up and down movement took long seconds. Rotating my head, I kept changing the angle of fellatio. I stuck my bottom lip out and dragged it over the glans. I made a tight seal around the shaft and took him deeper by degrees. I felt the gentle tug upon my hair while I inhaled.

Frank groaned his approval.

Speeding up a little, I swallowed the shaft deeper. The head imposed itself at the entrance of my throat. Pushing my hands off the mattress, I continued at this faster pace. Three-quarters of the shaft fit easily inside. Breathing through my nose, I kept the suction constant and lifted to the bulbous knob each time. For a moment, I took him inside all the way. My bottom lip pressed against the lip of his scrotum. The hair on his groin tickled my upper lip. Fingers pushing on the sac from below, Frank held the erection upright for me.

I replaced his fingers with mine and zig-zagged my tongue down the underside of the shaft. Kisses followed the movement of the tongue. I returned to sucking him. The blowjob continued this way for close to ten minutes. He had come once, so I knew he wouldn’t explode immediately. Frank kept the hair out of my way and sipped his beer while I obliged his cock with my mouth. Minor variations in the rhythm of the suction coupled with small deviations in the mechanics of fellatio ensured the longevity of this erection. Holding on to the base of the shaft with my hand, I mostly played my mouth over the top half of the shaft. For long stretches, I did nothing more than mouth and tongue the head.

I loved how he laughed at the pleasure of the things I was doing. It made me grin and redouble my efforts to please him further.

He had distinctive scents. My wetness from before had been absorbed into his pores. I had the smells of sex in my nose. Mostly, I tasted my own spit on his cock. But at the top, the foreskin had Frank’s own flavors. The eye wept tears of salty precome.

I deepthroated awhile, and when my jaws tired, I pointed the cock to the ceiling and stroked my fingers on either side of the shaft. The hands took their turns at making passes from the base to the tip, one on top, the other at the bottom, the cock sandwiched in between.

When Frank flattened the penis against the groin and the belly, I took my cue and commenced on his balls. Forearms on either side of his thighs braced my body. I lowered my head and lapped the wrinkled skin of the sac. The tongue rasped over the flabby folds. The testicles moved underneath. Capturing one in my lips, I pressed my tongue against the rounded bulge and felt it displace under the skin. My lips tugged the testicle softly as they administered suction. I nipped and nibbled and dragged my tongue over its twin. Nose and tonguetip followed the seam of the scrotum. Spit layered on his perineum. I smeared the wetness over that sensitive patch of skin. Fingers descended deliberately to the asshole and feathered over the corrugated muscle. Fine hairs fringed the crease like tassels.

As my tongue swept from the ring of muscle up to the balls and down again, Frank moaned expressively. The note of pleasure in his voice sounded like pain.

I lapped at the anus. These weren’t ginger and delicate touches. The tongue licked vigorously. My jaws controlled the movements.

I licked outside only. Instead of spiraling around in circles as I sometimes do, I wiped over the opening from bottom to top. Frank spread his thighs wide for me, folded his legs back at the knees, and obligingly lifted his feet into the air. The ass tilted up to my face. One of his hands fisted my hair, but again, he didn’t apply downward force.

With heels of hands pressed at the joining of the thighs and buttocks, I feasted on ass flesh. I nosed the perineum. He tasted of sweat.

Pushing my lips against the taut muscle, I kissed his anus. My tongue licked the sphincter. Prising the buttocks open, I dipped the tonguetip inside. Mostly, I focused on stimulating the halo of nerves surrounding the aperture. My tongue mopped over the responsive band of flesh. When I pressed my face down hard, the heat of his buttocks surrounded me. The tongue was relentless. Without pause it swiped for long minutes.

Licking the tip of a finger, I ran it over the anus. When I was convinced that it had loosened the opening, I kissed my tongue deep into the maw.

I grasped the erection as I pushed off his thigh. I had a steely rod in one hand and a wall of muscle beneath the other. The cheeks of his ass warmed the cheeks of my face as I vibrated my lips over his bung. I felt the ridges and the notches of the exiguous skin surrounding the orifice.

I remember the first time that a lover placed his mouth over my anus. It was preparatory to an ass fucking, so the purpose was different. At the same time, the slippery wet slide of that flexible, spry, infinitely knowing, infinitely nimble tongue drove me mad with sensation and desire. And it remains ever thus. Though Frank is clean, I know what comes out of any asshole. I get off on how dirty this is. It is a pleasure for me and for him. My fingers lowered to my pussy, pressed down, and wriggled the distended flesh from side to side.

My nose advanced into the the hard knot below the balls and flattened. The tongue curled and compressed to fit, then extended past the sphincter. The spit lowered into his ass. I made slurping noises as I sucked the saliva out again and washed it over the squinting eye.

For his part, Frank kept his thighs apart. He held the cock upright. The fingers of his hand closed a third of the way down the shaft, smoothed up to the glans, and pinched off the tip. His head craned up from the pillow, and he tried to watch me. Eventually, he brought his legs against his chest and rocked on his back. This tilted his ass in the air for me. My jaws worked hard over the aperture.

To pause a moment and take in air, I crooked my head sideways and smooched the rising curve of the rump. My fingers replaced his on the shaft, and I gave him a brief suck. I licked vertical stripes along the stem, down to the base, down over the compact balls, down along the perineum, down to where I had been before. My teeth bit gently on the skin, then my lips went soft and made a seal on the pucker, and my tongue resumed its placement in his anus. I made an effort for this man with whom I have shared so much. I strained to please him. I made love to Frank without restraint or modesty or shame.

I lost track of time. I enjoyed doing this for Frank. I liked how his body bucked from the bed while I licked and kissed. I liked that he spoke incoherently while I rocked my head from side to side and vibrated my lips. I liked that I was the first woman to have shown him this pleasure. Whatever happens, wheresoever he and I may go, whoever we end up with, I will always have this distinction.

When I surfaced, Frank’s hand jerked hard over the erection. I took over. Making my throat loose, I swallowed the length of the cock in a single movement and hummed when I hit bottom. The ending credits of the movie came and went before Frank ever did.

Who I did on my summer vacation July 20, 2011

Posted by Leah in Anilingus, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Fucking, Random hookups, Sapphic.
11 comments

A Brazilian boy: After an impromptu makeout session, I sucked him off on the roof of the youth hostel late at night. Because we didn’t have any condoms, that’s as far as it went.

The construction worker: He was an Irishman on holiday with his mates. I met him at a dance club, to which I had worn a cocktail dress that was barely decent. The top of my head didn’t reach his chin. His chest was pure muscle. Though his hands were calloused, his touch on my arms and my waist and my ass was gentle. He exhibited no such gentleness when he fucked me. He took me the way an alpha takes his bitch. He made me sweat. I enjoyed the challenge of trying to fit his cock into my throat but never quite managed the trick.

Boy on the beach: My bikini had blue and white stripes and a shining silver border. I had pulled it into the crease of my ass and lay on my stomach, tanning myself. When I rolled over, I discovered a boy staring at me from behind.

J’ai été en admirant la vue,” he said.

I followed his eyes to the horizon, which consisted of high rise beachfront property, and grinned. He plopped himself down on the sand beside my beach towel. We communicated in my pidgin French and his equally limited English. As the conversation progressed he rested his hand on the inside part of my thigh. Since it was there already, I asked him to rub sunscreen into my skin. I doubted his complexion could tan, but he slathered some over his chest as well. I invited him back to my hotel in the late afternoon. Boldness must have its reward.

Le club échangiste: In Paris, I was a woman alone at a swingers’ club. I must have fucked six different guys during the three hours that I was there. I left in the company of a newlywed couple. They had an apartment in the 11th near Bastille. It was a studio, far tinier than my place in London. The sofa folded out to a bed. The two of them ate my pussy and ass simultaneously.

Sequential one night stands: First: the bartender in a hole in the wall pub who plied me with free cocktails throughout the night. We finished at his place. I went by bus across town to my hostel in the morning. My pussy was swollen from the 6 am fuck, the 8 am fuck, and the 9 am fuck. I had the ache of sex in my muscles. Face flushed red, I reeked of copulation. I wondered who around me knew. Second: the slightly overweight local who picked me up at the same bar the next evening. He sighed when my tongue swiped through his hairy chest and whimpered when I nosed into his hairy ass. When his cock was not in my pussy, his fingers took up residence there. I enjoyed open mouthed, wet kisses with this gray headed man more than twice my age. I liked licking the semen, sweat, and vaginal secretions from his tangled pubis. The penis returned to its maximum extension as he watched me do this. He couldn’t get enough of my tits.

The fountain May 28, 2011

Posted by Leah in Anilingus, Bondage, Cunnilingus, D/s, Fellatio, Fisting, Fucking, Masturbation, Repeated hookups, Spanking, Urine.
8 comments

He has tie points installed into the headboard and the footboard of his bedframe. He looped rope through them and had me spread-eagled over the mattress. Using first a wooden spatula from the kitchen and then a riding crop, he spanked my cunt. He struck the pussy lips past the point of pain and into a state of numbness. The blows landed exactly and accurately over the distended and exposed clitoris. I had asked him to do this to me.

Afterwards, Amadeo spread himself in the space between my stretched apart legs and worked his mouth over pubis and pussy. His tongue threaded into the folds of the flesh and teased the wetness out of me. He licked the engorged lips. His fingers reached inside and pushed against the G-spot. The pressure there made the clit stand out. I felt my spine elongate and extend while he lapped at the clitoris. My arms lengthened as I tugged at the bonds around my wrists.

Attendant to my arousal, the blood throbbed in the flesh. The clit trilled under his ministrations.

Amadeo would not let me come. He brought me to the escarpment and deliberately backed me off. He simply wouldn’t touch me, neither with his fingers, nor with his tongue while I hovered at the edge.

He turned his attention to my breasts instead. He licked around the areolae. He sucked on the nipples, bit down on the nubs, and chomped. The nerve endings screamed their pain. Lips gave voice to their agony.

Amadeo kissed me intimately. He looked down on me and stuck his tongue out as far as he could.

“Suck it like it’s my cock,” he said.

Lifting my head from the pillow, I brought my mouth over the point of tongue. I compacted my lips and kissed wetly there. Applying a loud and persistent suction that pulled the tonguetip inside past the rows of teeth, I closed my eyes and spun my face by degrees.

His fingers touched over my much abused pussy lips. He smeared the wetness that had escaped my cunt over them. Two fingers pressed in. He fucked them in and out.

“You’re not allowed to come without permission,” he stated.

Amadeo returned to sucking my nipples, far more gently this time. A pair of his fingers stretched all the way inside my vagina and pivoted within. The knuckles of the other fingers brushed over my pubis. Five minutes of this and I felt loose and wet inside. My muscles tightened about his hand. My ankles strained at the rope. My knees bent, and my thighs lifted up. Amadeo pushed my center flat against the mattress and continued fingering me while he nursed.

After a time, Amadeo compressed my breasts together and slid his cock between them. After a time, he straddled my head and gave me the front half of his penis to suck. After a time, he lowered his balls into my mouth and turned himself around so that I could rim his ass.

I craned my neck up and buried my face in the crevice of his buttocks. Nose riding into the crease, my tongue lapped at the exiguous ridges that surrounded the anus. He spread his cheeks so that I could lap more easily at the pucker. Gingerly, the tip of my tongue poked past his sphincter. He let me lick for a while, then returned his penis to my lips. From this position, he spread his body over mine so his weight was on top and initiated sixty-nine. His tongue circled my clitoris. He kissed into my cunt. The two fingers dug in again. He scissored them apart and slipped his tongue between the digits, which he fucked in and out while he tongued over slit and clit.

I moaned around the cock in my mouth and sucked harder. This caused him to redouble the exertions of his tongue. My saliva streamed down the sides of his shaft and made my face sticky.

“Tell me when you get close,” he said. While he applied suction to the clit, he also jabbed his penis against the roof of my mouth.

I didn’t have to tell him. He knew how to read my body and backed off on his own. He turned himself, crawled between my legs, and dedicated his endeavors to bringing me repeatedly to the precipice of a soaring orgasm. He brought me there, and he held me back.

I begged him to let me come.

He steadfastly ignored my entreaties. The look on my face, the desperate want, my needy pleas — these amused him. He brought a vibrator out and pressed it against the clit while he licked my opening. He extended the index and middle fingers inside as far as he could manage and rotated his hand at the wrist. He finger fucked the digits in and out swiftly and then returned to a slow turn while he lapped at the folds.

I stared down at him while he brought me to the ragged edge. I held tightly to the rope. My legs struggled with their bonds while I squirmed in my torment.

I wanted to come. I told him this again and again. I verbalized my desire, explaining to him how much I wanted my parole. I tried persuasion. I asked nicely. I requested him to shove me over the edge of this cliff to which he had led me. I implored. I pleaded. I beseeched. It was in vain, for he wouldn’t allow it. After some minutes, I stopped importuning him for consent. Rather, I screeched epithets.

“Not till I say so,” he insisted. He laughed at the names that I invented for him.

In addition to a change of clothes, toiletries, and a couple of articles of lingerie that he likes, I keep a steel dildo in Amadeo’s apartment. He placed it inside and fucked me with it. Initially, the metal was cold to the touch, but my body heat warmed it up. It felt extremely heavy — far more so than any cock. It filled me up. My muscles stretched to accommodate the unbending steel, especially when Amadeo angled it against the sides of my cunt. It was long enough that the massive rounded knob prodded at sensitive places deep within. To the reconnaissance of pussy, he supplied torque to twirl the metal inside me, which he knew I enjoyed. Mostly he fucked me with the dildo, using the strength in his powerful upper arm to control the depth and the velocity of the movements.

I panted hard. He diddled my clit. Looking down at my stretched out body, I focused my attention on my toes, how I wiggled them, on the grain of the footboard of the bed and the color of the oak, on how my legs stretched apart, bound as they were by rope. My eyes scrunched shut with the effort of concentration. Sweat beaded on my forehead and streamed down the sides of my face.

Under ordinary circumstances, I would have creamed hard repeatedly by the time we had arrived at this point in the evening. I could not come without permission, however. I inhabited a submissive place. I determined to play this game to its conclusion. My imperative was to obey his instruction. I would come only when he assented to my orgasm. I rationalized that it would be his gift to me.

Amadeo didn’t offer me his permission. But neither did he torture me for long. He extracted the dildo and laid it over the mattress of the bed. Cupping my tits with his large hands, he kissed me gently and for the longest time. His saliva lowered into my throat. His tongue explored the inner surfaces of my mouth and made my cheeks bulge. He sucked and nipped and nibbled and chewed upon my bottom lip. He touched the pussy lips with a profound softness and with infinite care. Not for the first time, Amadeo made love to me.

This interlude of gentleness was followed by partial fisting. Amadeo squeezed four fingers inside me and folded them on top of each other and located the thumb parallel and facing down in the valley of the digits. He turned the hand at the wrist and screwed the fingers in to their bottom bend. The knuckles pressed at me from below the cunt. My juices coated his hand in a thick grease.

I could have come at any instant. He needed only to give the word. But he didn’t. So I contained my orgasm. I was a bitch held at bay not by the ropes that restrained me, but by dint of willpower.

The bastard wouldn’t produce the order to let go. Instead, he rolled a condom over himself and provisioned me with his penis. He laid on top of me with the cock ensconced to the balls. He fucked my cunt with short rabbit thrusts. But mostly, he remained motionless over my body with his shaft embedded fully within. His massive frame crushed my breasts flat. He reached above my head and tugged the rope about my wrists. He gnawed at the cartilage at the top of my ear and spun his tongue around my earring. His cock lunged in and out in concise and punctuated bursts.

I gritted my teeth. I shook my head from side to side. I thought of mundane aspects of life to distract myself.

He didn’t complete. “I don’t come, you don’t come,” he said, and pinned me to the mattress with his cock.

He left the fuck unfinished, departed the bedroom, and returned from the kitchen with fruit that he fed me and water to rehydrate my parched throat. He sat on the mattress and read to me from Sade.

I needed to pee. He loosened the bonds and followed me into the bathroom. While I urinated from a sitting position, Amadeo had me spread my legs wide apart. He directed the flow of his piss at my pussy. The two streams joined. His urine and mine fell with a splash and tinkled together in the toilet. He pointed his penis higher and stepped closer to me. The urine fell over my belly and sheeted down my pubis. At the end of it, when our bladders had emptied, he gave me his glans to suck. I closed my eyes and took the crown into my mouth. My tongue blotted the tip of the residues of piss.

I went to my knees before the toilet and sucked Amadeo with a wet mouth and the consistent application of pressure. Droplets of pee dripped onto the floor from the lips of my pussy. After his thick and milky semen had barreled into my stomach, he ran his big toe along my slit, then helped me to my feet.

It was late. Amadeo said that he was spent. Rather than letting me masturbate myself, he promised to fuck me to orgasm in the morning. My disappointment was evident, but I acquiesced with as good grace as I could muster. We curled up naked beneath the covers and spoke in whispers. I fell asleep with his chest spooned against my back and one of his hands covering my breasts.

I woke at four in the morning. The latex sheathed penis fumbled at the gates of my cunt. My arms encircled Amadeo’s back. I raised my legs into the air and pulled him down by the shoulders. The instant he was in me, I was wide awake. The sex was uncomplicated. Amadeo pounded me from above. The shaft pistoned in and out with speed and metronomic precision.

“You can come,” he had stated when we started. He gathered my wrists in one his hands and lifted my arms high above my head. He kissed me.

The denial of orgasm in the hours previous left my nerves confused. I wasn’t on the edge any longer, and it took me long minutes to work up to a state of frenzy. When I was there, my pussy fountained.

The orgasm began deep in the walls of my vagina. It rippled from the interior out to the periphery. Every one of my nerve endings thrilled. First it was in my cunt exclusively. Then it was everywhere. I blinkered my eyes shut and saw the stars of the galaxy in supernova. Watery ejaculate gushed explosively from my pussy. It made an arc and sprayed onto his belly and rained back over my thighs and onto the clean, white bed linen. The penis slipped out of my cunt. Amadeo maneuvered it back in at once. He fucked me through the flood now. The liquid issued forth in waves and left the bedsheets sodden.

The inundation stilled momentarily. Then the paroxysms commenced again. My pussy spilled. Under such stimulation, Amadeo could not suppress his instinct to spew. The shaft convulsed, which set the walls of my vagina to quaking. The orgasm poured out of me one more time to match his eruption.

Play in one act May 5, 2011

Posted by Leah in Anilingus, Breath play, Cunnilingus, D/s, Fellatio, Repeated hookups.
15 comments

While I kneel at the foot of the bed, a man, my dominant lover, towers over me. He knots a blindfold over my eyes.

AMADEO: Can you see?

LEAH: No.

AMADEO: Good. You don’t speak unless you are spoken to, Leah. Do you understand me?

LEAH: Yes.

AMADEO: Good girl. Now open your mouth. Stick your tongue out. Say “Ahhhh.”

LEAH: Ahhhh.

The spit lands on target and cascades into my gullet. I make an ostentatious noise as I swallow.

AMADEO: Suck me, pet.

He feeds me his erection with purpose. It goes in too swiftly for my comfort. I fight against his grip and choke up spit around the shaft. My resistance is an exercise in futility. The head caroms off the roof and muscles a way through. The pressure at the back of my head forces his glans into my throat absent any preparation. I battle for air and cough.

AMADEO: Choke on it. Good girl. I want to hear you gag.

He fucks my face. My lips pout beneath the shaft. His big hands gather huge clumps of hair. I am aware of the tension in the roots as the fists pull at the scalp. A rope of saliva dances from my chin. It coats my throat. I make drowning noises. From above, a gob of his spittle lands deliberately over the bridge of my nose.

AMADEO: That’s it, fuck face. Keep going.

I struggle to take him deeper. My knees slide under his legs.

AMADEO: Oh, that’s it. Do you like it when I am in your mouth?

He points my face up and slaps my cheek.

AMADEO: Answer me.

LEAH: Yeah. I do.

My words come out in gasps. I pant, taking in deep draughts of oxygen.

AMADEO: Say it in a sentence.

His voice maintains an equilibrium that does not waver. It is uncompromising. He is the voice of authority in his bedroom. His words have an air of command, a ring of control, the aspect of power.

LEAH: I love sucking your great, big cock.

My hands span the shaft. I grip the base tightly and, in my blindness, find his balls and mouth them. The heel of his hand dashes my forehead. A hard shove sends me toppling. My hands land behind me to cushion my fall.

AMADEO: Not without permission.

I return to my knees and lower my head to him.

LEAH: May I please lick your heavy, hairy balls?

He slaps the opposite cheek. He captures a nipple and twists.

AMADEO: You speak only when spoken to. Filthy fucking bitch.

He has named me “bitch” before, and I don’t mind. This time, he spits it out with unexpected venom. The words hit me like a slap. They stun me into silence.

AMADEO: Kiss my feet.

I do. My tongue drags from the outer arch to his toes on one foot. I repeat on the other, and after that, crouch on the floor and wait.

AMADEO: What are you?

LEAH: A filthy fucking bitch.

The words come out softly. I squirm internally at the phrasing. My eyes well up. A small part of me wonders what it is that I am doing here. But the larger part accedes. I inhabit my role. A door opens to a submissive place.

LEAH: I am a filthy fucking bitch.

The silence stretches out.

AMADEO: What is it that you want to be?

LEAH: A scrotum licking twat.

I suppress a smile at the locution.

AMADEO: Hmmm. Say sorry.

LEAH: I am sorry.

AMADEO: What are you sorry about?

LEAH: I am sorry for speaking without permission.

He hauls me up by the hair, to my knees, and squats on the floor before me. His fingers play idly along the curves of my breasts.

AMADEO: You are not going to suck my balls. Instead, I am going to use your mouth for my cunt. How do you like that?

LEAH: I want you to.

He slaps my right breast, then he stands. His fingers press against my lips. I kiss them.

AMADEO: Ask me.

LEAH: Please, Amadeo. I want you to fuck my face with your cock.

AMADEO: Do you want me to throat fuck you?

LEAH: I want you to use my throat for a cunt.

AMADEO: And why should I do that?

He strokes my hair paternally.

LEAH: Because it pleases you.

AMADEO: Will it please you as well?

LEAH: It always pleases me to give you pleasure.

AMADEO: But you want it, too? For yourself.

LEAH: Yes. I want it. I am wet for it. My cunt is dripping.

AMADEO: You’re a dirty little whore. Say it.

LEAH: I’m a dirty little whore.

AMADEO: No, you’re not. Whores get paid. You do it for free. So what does that make you?

LEAH: It makes me a slut.

AMADEO: And just whose slut are you?

LEAH: I’m your slut, Amadeo.

AMADEO: You’re the thing I use to get off. You’re my possession. You belong to me.

The hush in the room extends uncomfortably. I wait for him to speak or act.

AMADEO: Say it. Say: “I. Belong. To. You.”

LEAH: I belong to you.

The words flip a switch. I am crying under the silk. My vagina accomplishes a somersault. I heave for breath.

AMADEO: Open your mouth for me, cunt.

He sends his cock into my throat again. My gag reflex is less pronounced now than before. He gives me hard use. I gurgle around the thick shaft. As he fucks my face, my lips become swollen. My index finger circles my clitoris while the glans sounds my throat. He notices and plucks my hand away. A claw tightens over the transgressing forearm.

AMADEO: Did I tell you you could do that?

LEAH: No.

AMADEO: Then don’t do it.

He holds my wrists over my head the next time, and when he releases his grip on them to bring his hands around my throat to constrict the passage of air, I brace myself against his thighs. Pussy slick fingers bat at his balls.

AMADEO: I feel my cock moving under your neck.

He squeezes my head, flares his pelvis out, forces his cock the whole way in, and he holds position there. His balls dangle from my chin. My jaws are spread so wide that it hurts. I fight back incipient tears. To distract my thoughts I stretch my tonguetip to the lip of his scrotum. When the glans withdraws from my throat, I bend over and wheeze. He compels me up by the hair. He seats his cock between my lips and thrusts hard and fast. I take it.

Every so often, he brings his hand down to cup my breasts, to tweak a nipple, to screw it around. Every so often, he cuffs the side of my face. Every so often, he punctuates his dominance by maintaining himself deep within my throat. Every so often. And then he returns to fucking me with his demanding rhythm. I emit a hollow glugging sound.

AMADEO: I am getting close. Lay down. I am going to sperm your body. You’re going to be my come dumpster.

I am on the carpet. I lie supine and look up at him from under the blindfold. He plants his feet, one on each side of my torso. I run my hands over them. My grip tightens over the ankle and relaxes as I follow the arch down to his toes. The veil of darkness heightens my other senses. I have his scent in my nose. I taste the spit in my mouth. It coats my neck. I feel it on tits and thighs. I am perspiring heavily from the effort of sucking his penis. Sweat mats the hair to my forehead. I hear his hand shucking over the shaft. His breathing intensifies. I remember that I should not speak. I remember that I should not touch myself. I break his rules willfully.

LEAH: Come for me. Give me your sperm. I am your filthy fucking bitch. I want your come over me. I want to wallow in it. Please. Give it to me. I need you to.

He continues to jerk. My saliva lubricates the movements of the hand on his shaft. It gives it an audible liquid slide. I know my words are arousing to him. His expectorate dirties my face. My fingers rub over my moist pussy. I transfer this wetness from my cunt to his feet.

LEAH: I am a dirty little girl. I am a cocksucking bitch. I’m a slut. I’m your slut. I am a willing zero pound whore. In your bedroom, I belong to you. Give me your come. Mark me with it. Show me that you own me. I’m yours.

AMADEO: Oh. I am coming, Leah. I am coming.

The semen rains onto my breasts and my shoulder. It streaks my face, and it gets into my hair. I release a contented moan. When he finishes, I smile out of accomplishment.

LEAH: Thank you.

I smear the come over my chest into the skin. I use the side of my finger to gather it from my cheek and lick it up. He sits on the ground next to me, also collecting the semen from my body. He gives me his fingers to suck clean.

AMADEO: Look at you.

LEAH: Take off the blindfold and bring me a mirror, and I will.

AMADEO: I am the dom here.

He loosens the blindfold anyway. I flash teeth, beaming him a blinding grin, then plant my lips atop the jut of his shoulder. My teeth gnaw playfully at the skin. I raise his arm and lick underneath. The athletic smells smother me.

AMADEO: Goddamn. Are you beautiful!

He kisses me, the thick tongue chasing his own spendings. His lips latch on to my tits, and he laps at the skin over which I have slathered his come. Before long, his mouth occupies the space between my legs. I clutch the hair, which he keeps short, and elevate my hips to amplify the contact with his lips. He bites on the clit causing me to wince, then licks and fingers both pussy and anus. It is my turn now for oral. It is my turn now to come. In his bedroom, I belong to him. My dominant lover takes care of his fuck-toy.

Three lovers April 18, 2011

Posted by Leah in Anilingus, Breath play, Buggery, Cunnilingus, D/s, Fellatio, Fucking, Random hookups, Repeated hookups, Spanking.
12 comments

— 1 —

Wednesday evening: We proceeded to bed almost as soon as I arrived. After we had expended the initial impetus to screw, we prepared our dinner in the nude. I coated the vegetables in my not-so-secret pussy sauce. He spanked my breasts with a wooden spoon and probed the entrance of my cunt with its rounded edge. My asshole: this he stoppered with the cork from the chianti. Amadeo and I took turns on the table. We ate pasta from each other’s bodies and had a messy and splendid time of it. Amadeo took sadistic glee in poking me in sensitive places with the tines of his fork. He applied the serrated edge of the knife over my abdomen. He spilled hot sauce over my pubis. I layered the food over his groin and used fingers and teeth. I nibbled at his foreskin and sucked at the shaft. The wine stained his chest red. For dessert, I had semen in my gelato. He licked ice cream from my pelvis. He did it slowly. Fingertips sweeping over the G-spot, the tongue flicked carefully atop the clit. Tease and misdirection and a knowing touch conspired to leave me soaked, breathless, and precariously positioned on the precipice of orgasm, waiting for a push and the perpendicular descent.

Before coffee in the morning, Amadeo fucked me over the kitchen table. I laid on my back while he stood on his toes and thrust his penis into my cunt. He propped my left foot on his shoulder and licked the sole. His fingers combed through my hair. He gave me his thumb to suck, then smothered my mouth and nose with his palm. The resolute grip of his fingers constricted my throat. I anchored myself with a handhold on his hip while the spillage from my vagina smeared into the nest of his pubis and slicked between our thighs. Amadeo kicked off the wooden chair, and he fucked me harder. Rough paws mauled my tits. I raised an arm above my head and seized the side of the table. I liked having the solidity of oak beneath me, the way the wood vibrated under my weight when Amadeo rammed himself forward and bottomed out and reversed direction. My moans gave accompaniment to the liquid sounds of fuck. He hauled me from the table, up by the buttocks, when he came. The cock spasmed in the throes of his little death. I bore down with my muscles to wrench the semen out of him. Later, I lapped my secretions from the polished wood.

— 2 —

Friday night: I wore an emerald cocktail dress, with a deep V neck that showed cleavage and a halter tie that bared my back. The hem of the skirt landed conservatively two inches above the knee. The mostly rayon fabric hugged tightly to my curves and stretched about my legs when I stepped. It had a lustrous sheen. The occasion was a fundraising soirée for a charity for which a friend from the orchestra works. The conversation bent toward art and music. It was my kind of crowd.

A man in a purple shirt, a sport jacket, and dark blue slacks chatted me up. After the party, we unwound at a champagne bar. Hours after midnight, we checked into a hotel in central London where we had drunken sex. I cannot reconstruct the narrative with any clarity. Scattered images remain. I remember the checker patterned ceiling swimming into and out of focus behind him as he fucked me from above. I remember his head between my thighs and how I compressed the sides of his face in their vice. I remember tracing the tip of my tongue along the veins in his cock before looping a condom over the head. I remember dragging my nails down his arms as he slammed into me from a height. I remember sloppy kisses. I don’t recollect whether he made me come.

— 3 —

Saturday night & most of Sunday: Frank and I had dinner early in the evening at a Lebanese restaurant. From about 9 pm until 2 pm, we spent our waking and sleeping hours installed in my bed. When we commenced, I had an almost fresh box of condoms sitting on the nightstand. Now, the two last condoms in the whole apartment are buried at the bottom of my book bag. One day later, the scent of sex still saturates my pillows and sheets.

Frank took me in every pose. He had me on top. He had me underneath. He had me on my hands and knees. He took my ass from above with my legs suspended in the air. He took it hunched over me from behind. He had my buttocks with my back flush against his chest. When he needed a break to forestall an incipient climax, he paused the fucking to lap at my cunt. In my turn, I sucked him on my knees. I sucked him sitting cross legged on my bed. I sucked him with my head dangling from the side of the mattress. I sucked him pulling the cock backward between his legs after thoroughly devouring his winking anus. It didn’t signify in the least that he ran out of semen long before we had finished. The cock maintained its steel. The balls would shudder and the shaft would twitch. We kept going until it did, and then we repeated.

One of the qualities that makes Frank a gifted lover is his sense of the ebb and flow of sex, the innate knowledge of how to transition and when. He has me rutting on all fours, with his prick prodding my cunt from behind. His fingers stroke each of my flanks, brushing them from the hips to the rise of the breasts. When he penetrates and the cock fills me inside, the hands shift minutely. The heels of his palms press against the undersurface of the breasts. The pads of his thumb and index finger make tiny pincers. He squeezes the nipples and gently draws them out. The face of the thumb feathers over the sensitive nerve endings. The forefinger steadies this movement. The hands then cup the breasts and flatten them against muscle and bone, and he uses this improved leverage to slam my body backward against his groin. Then he raises me upright by wrapping his arms about my shoulders and lifting. At the same time, he sinks down on the mattress into a sitting position, and he lowers me over his penis so that I am squatting on my knees between his legs. After a time, he kisses my neck where it joins with the collar, and he presses his fingers between the shoulder blades to coax me prone on the bed. He extends my legs and blankets me with his body. The cock fucks without interruption. The tempo of sex hasn’t altered though we have cycled through a spectrum of positions. All of them feel different. All of them feel new. No matter how many times we have done this before, the sensation is unique to the moment.

It’s like music. There is a theme in the violins, and then the celli pick up the exact melody one register down, and they pass it on to the winds, who carry it. My lips are at the embouchure. My fingers are floating over the middle keys, and I am listening, and I am watching his baton and timing the entrance, and the harmony stretches itself into me deep down, and I experience it in a way I don’t know how to describe. There aren’t words for this. The music envelops me while I am shaping the notes. It creates me just as I create it. I am somewhere in its core. And I am not alone. I hardly know how I got to this place or where it is I am going next. I remember to breathe and keep on playing.

The silence March 17, 2011

Posted by Leah in Anilingus, Boyfriend, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Fucking.
51 comments

The boyfriend surprised me by appearing at my door two Saturdays ago. He flew in for the weekend because he thought it necessary to talk in person about the status of our relationship.

I wish I could say that the discussions that followed were a total shock to me.

The truth is that long distance has been challenging for us. The interlude in the States this winter rekindled the fires in part, but over the last several weeks — that is to say, since my return to the UK — the e-mails we have traded and our conversations over Skype have been lazy and inadequate. One of us misses an appointment because stuff happens, and the other, after rearranging the schedule and juggling plans, winds up solo and disappointed and annoyed. The internet goes down over here or over there. There is a five hour time shift with which to contend. We discover that we cannot connect when we absolutely need to talk with the one person who, at this particular instant in time, knows us most comprehensively. We find ourselves increasingly frustrated and vexed. We don’t bother to rearrange plans anymore. We talk less than we should, less than we did, far less than we must. Because of geography, the two of us drift apart: slowly: inevitably: like the continents.

We had the difficult conversations throughout the weekend. Power games set to the side, we had fond and unhurried sex. I sought to commit his scents and tastes to memory, the flavor of his semen, how he touched me and the way I touched him back, those kisses, that tongue flickering inside my pussy and my anus like a flame. I compressed the muscles of my vagina about his shaft, raised the pelvic floor, and listened to the inflection in his voice as he wavered on the edge. I allowed the rictus of his face to consume my vision. His enormous brown eyes swallowed me up. When the paroxysm seized my body, I blinked away tears. He enveloped me in his arms and cradled me in the aftermath of the orgasms. He held me through the catharsis of sobs which followed. The side of a finger scooped up the semen that had leaked from my pussy. He pushed it back inside again. I giggled, and then he did, too.

We have suspended the relationship.

The love persists. So does the friendship and the affection. He and I still share an apartment in Boston. When I return to the US at the end of the summer, we can reassess and maybe revise our standing based on where we find ourselves then.

In the meanwhile, life proceeds. We have agreed that the two of us may not only fuck others, we can actively date. Falling in love is a risk we take. I am not looking for a partner for the long term. It could happen though.

Spring is a new season.

I feel liberated in this city. I feel so terribly alone.

~

Amadeo cooked dinner last night. We ate by candlelight. The brooding Sagrantino di Montefalco left me tipsy. Listening to Bartoli, we made out, but did not fuck. I went home so that I could sleep in my own bed, alone, with not even a sex toy for company.

I haven’t bedded with anyone since the ex-boyfriend. The physical urge is there, an omnipresent shadow. Frame of mind, mood, and disposition: these are lacking.

This remains a sex blog. I have no intention of altering that. The stories will resume once the laying does. This will happen — probably soon. Until then, I will go into a state of hibernation.

Once more December 21, 2010

Posted by Leah in Anilingus, Fellatio, Fucking, Repeated hookups.
3 comments

I lowered the curtain on the blog too early. Thanks to the snow and the ineptitude of British Airways and the airport authority, I’m stuck in London. With luck, I fly on Friday morning.

Laying London continues. Amadeo made it back to Italy before the winter madness hit. But Frank is in town. We had dinner, and he spent the night. We fucked, but mostly we cuddled.

He and I shared the shower in the morning and returned to the bedroom wrapped in our towels. As I put on my bra, I noticed Frank, still naked, bending in the mirror, drying the backs of his legs and his feet. The cock swung from side to side. I needed to have him one more time, so I went to my knees. He hardened between my lips.

He sat on the bed and spread his legs for me while I sucked him from the floor.

I pointed the penis vertical and licked the underside of the shaft with zig-zag swipes. Frank reached into my bra and rubbed his fingers across a nipple. Today, his glans was especially sensitive, so I focused my attention there. I filled my mouth with saliva and swished it around the crown. I darted my tongue at the foreskin and circled the glans. My hands tugged at his balls. Nose nudging at the sac, the lips described the shape of his testicles.

When he laid back and positioned himself lengthwise on the mattress, I joined him on the bed. He propped his back up with pillows and pushed stray locks of hair behind an ear. He watched and sighed as I continued a slow and methodical exploration of his cock and his balls and the insides of his thighs. The lips pecked softly at the pubis, which he keeps trimmed. I squinted one eye, then the other down the length of the erection. The crown and scepter filled my vision. I signed my name with the point of my tongue.

Frank unfastened the bra to touch my breasts. While I sucked him, he reached between my legs and stroked my lips, and having coaxed the waters from my cunt, brought his hand out to pinch my nipples with pussy wet fingers.

Fingernails scraped over his muscular thighs. I took him into my throat.

I don’t know how long I fellated him. Whenever the tone of his breathing changed, I slowed the tempo or shifted my attention someplace else. He had his legs swaying in the air while I rimmed his anus. I took his toes in my mouth and rubbed my pussy against the soles of his feet. I used the moistness that escaped me to lubricate the twisting movements of my fingers along the shaft. I gripped him hard, like I do the rail on the tube when I can’t find a seat. I squeezed the shaft between my breasts.

In the end, I let the come blast onto his belly, below the navel, where the scattering of hair is more dense. Tongue swiping through, I placed kisses over his abdomen and lapped the semen from his skin.

Frank curved his hand around the shaft and stroked it. Taking it from him, I deposited tiny kisses along the bottom surface. Nose following the shaft to the pubis, I breathed over the erection. I cooed to the cock and spoke to it, thanking the penis for the semen that it had given me.

There was a bit of the whiteness to the side of my mouth, on the left half of my chin. I smeared it over my cheek and my lips, used it for moisturizer and lip balm. As I write, I wash my tongue over the upper lip and taste him still, the smallest touch of salt on the skin.

Exercise makes me horny December 7, 2010

Posted by Leah in Anilingus, Fellatio, Random hookups.
11 comments

I had on a sports bra and spandex gym shorts. The swoosh over my chest told me to just do it.

I followed the man across the room when he left, stopped him in the hallway, and asked whether he would let me suck his cock.

In the handicapped toilet, I went to my knees. Once we had tugged his shorts down, I rubbed my palms over the erection in his briefs, two hands spanning the bulge, stroking the length, one after another. I cupped his balls, clutched and released, and mouthed the penis through the cloth covering. The fabric blackened under the press of lips. Teeth nipped cock and cotton before the underwear fell to his feet.

My tongue swiped through the sweaty tangle of pubis. I kissed the groin, suction vacuuming up the moistness beaded there. The scent of his unwashed maleness made my nostrils flare. Tasting salt upon my lips and tongue, I licked perspiration from his balls. The porcupine hair of his scrotum glistened with saliva. Only after I had washed him this way did I address the cock from below. My tongue followed the vein along the underside of the erection. Making the lips plush and soft, I kissed the glans.

He leaned his weight against the sink while I worked down the shaft. At top, I beat the tongue against the head like a wing. My grip tight on the thick columns of his thighs, the tonguetip scooped along the lip of the sac when I bottomed out. My nose traced lazy figure-eights in his pubic hair with the crown ensconced.

A dampness under the neckline darkened the red of his muscle shirt.

I had him turn around. Arms extended on the countertop, he spread his legs apart and thrust his ass to me. Prising the cheeks apart, I licked a stripe through the cleft, which was hairy and dank. First my fingernails, then my tongue followed the lines of the muscles behind. My jaws clamped on his asshole. I took enormous gulps.

The man hissed pleasure. Sweat sluiced along his skin. I had it from the small of his back onto my forehead.

He bent his cock backward and tucked it between his legs like a tail. Lips sinking from the anus, I sucked him again.

He propped a foot on the toilet. I stooped beneath him. Face pointed at the ceiling, I spread my mouth wide and let the knob cascade into my throat. His eyes lidded to a sliver.

The hand secreted in my shorts rubbed my wet pussy. The tiled floor bit into my knees while I raised and lowered myself over the midpoint of his groin.

He gave a moment’s warning, then grunted.

Palm tightening under his balls, five fingers made a backward “C” below where my lips had clamped down. The head hopped in my mouth with each burst of semen. I couldn’t contain it all, couldn’t swallow fast enough to keep pace with the explosion. Come, white and viscid, overran the corners of my lips and coated my fingers. More of it escaped into the dense crop of pubis when I lifted my mouth from him.

I lapped the come from my hand. I kissed it from the matted groin. He brushed my hair behind an ear while I cleaned his softening penis.