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Who I did on my summer vacation July 20, 2011

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

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.

A taste of girl June 9, 2011

Posted by Leah in Cunnilingus, Random hookups, Sapphic.

My running partner is lesbian. Following a run, when we are both sweaty and in possession of an elated ache, I have often remarked that I want to gobble her up. After eight miles this weekend, at a café, Alice called me on my bluster. I had an appointment, so we couldn’t play then, but, after emphasizing that this would be a one night stand only, I agreed to meet her in the evening at her place.

She is femme. When I arrived, she wore a white tank top and a denim skirt each of which left precious little to the imagination. I had on a summer dress, but was wildly overdressed for the occasion. It was awkward to start. We had glasses of wine and made uncertain conversation. It took me an effort to stare at her eyes instead of her legs. That she kept them apart simplified the task in no way.

Outside, it began to rain. The typical British drizzle transformed into a sudden squall. We stood on the balcony and watched the sky spill.

Alice pushed off the railing and kicked her feet off the ground. Her calves and her thighs had been sculpted with an artist’s care. The skin was smooth and unblemished. The muscles stood out in relief. I noticed the florescent green of her underwear.

I went to my knees behind her. I caught her right ankle as she lowered her other foot. Slipping off the flip-flops, I licked along the Achilles tendon. I kissed to the back of her knee and set her foot down again. My hands smoothed over the backs of her legs. I reached up into her skirt and felt the soft flesh of her buttocks and the powerful muscles underneath. The thong, thankfully, left her cheeks exposed. Tiny goosebumps appeared like archipelagos on her thighs. I kneaded her. I needed her.

I stood and she turned and we kissed. Her tongue played softly against mine. Eyes closed, our noses bumped. She took her glasses off and set them on a small table.

Raindrops splashed off the railing and the balustrade. I felt them on my bare arms.

I turned and sunk to the ground so that I squatted against the wall, which supported my back. Alice clutched the railing and leaned her body over me. She flipped up the minuscule skirt, and I peeled the panties from her legs. She kept her pussy trimmed. I had seen it in the shower at the gym before. But I had never looked at it as closely as I did now. Her lips were small. The pudenda were twin hills that folded over the tiny labia between them. The clit hid at top. Alice was visibly moist. I smiled in the knowledge that I had made her so. I brought my nose to her pubis and inhaled the intoxicating aroma of a woman. She smelled of cut flowers. I hoped that I smelled so clean.

My hands went to the tops of her thighs and coaxed her legs apart while I rubbed my nose from side to side through her tuft of hair. Extending my tongue, I licked along the slit. She tasted a bit salty, a bit sweet, and so very savory.

I took time licking over the little hillocks of pubis. The tiny hairs rasped against my tongue. I breathed in deep draughts of her smells. My lips made a seal on either side of hers, and I sucked in air through my nose and exhaled through my mouth. I warbled my lips and flapped my tongue at the gate. The knocks announced my intent.

Fingers prised open her labia. The dark pink of the flesh shined with her arousal. I lapped at the inside of her folds, but didn’t stretch my tongue into the opening. I studiously avoided the clitoris.

My hands held her buttocks and tilted her groin toward me. Alice lowered her pelvis to my mouth. I responded with a tease, turning my head to the side, maneuvering away to lick at her thigh in place of the cunt. She nudged her pussy at my cheek, and when I didn’t react as she hoped, she pouted. I took my time anyway. My hands soothed up and down the fronts of her thighs. Her skin was so smooth.

I tongued the raindrops that beaded on the skin.

My arm stretched up. I squeezed her tits through the thin top. Then I lowered the arms and used my hand to rub the outside of her cunt. The surrounding flesh shook. The skin was darker than before. The odors were stronger. She was wetter. She tasted more robust — ferric, I would say.

I crooked two fingers up and pressed their backs against the folds of Alice’s cunt. Her moans were soft and high-pitched. She sounded like she was sniffling.

“Place me inside,” I said. I offered my hand.

She took my wrist and brought the fingers to her opening. Legs bowing at the knees, she lowered herself onto my hand. Once within, I straightened the fingers and scissored them apart. I rotated the base of the hand and felt the slickness of her muscles. Her pussy squelched around me. I rubbed my own cunt through the layers of cloth.

My fingers fucked in and out rapidly. The knuckles of the hand became drenched in the waters that escaped her pussy. In the intervals between vigorous, rapid thrusts, I lapped her clitoris.

I have little conception of how long this continued. I was content to lean my head against the wall and lick forever. The rain stopped, and still I mouthed the pussy. My effort ended in Alice’s orgasm. Her body went entirely stiff. Her thighs squeezed my face. She rutted against my chin and let out an expressive moan. The muscles in her thighs went rigid. The muscles in her vagina contracted about my fingers. The wetness sluiced in the narrow gap between them as the walls caved in.

She tasted exquisite. There was a lightness to her come, an aftertaste almost like fruit. I licked it from my fingers. She collapsed to the ground and tasted herself from my lips. After this, it was my turn to receive. Alice raised my dress. She was a cannibal on my cunt. Her eyes glinted as she ate. I wasn’t as quiet as she was. Legs spread apart on the floor of her balcony, I wailed and screamed.

What Jean heard December 19, 2010

Posted by Leah in Cunnilingus, Masturbation, Random hookups, Sapphic.

I went out Friday night wearing a little black dress. I felt like enjoying another woman, so I visited a gay bar that a friend in the orchestra had recommended. I picked up Imogen there. She was two or three years younger and looked cute in a frilly red top and tight blue jeans. She was short, 5’1″ or 5’2″ in her flats, with a tiny chest. Tresses of blonde hair fell to the middle of her back in plaits. She worked in the technical side of theater. We couldn’t go back to her place, so despite the company sleeping on my sofa, we returned to mine.

Jean noticed us when we arrived. Through the closed door of the bedroom and the flimsy walls, this is what he heard.

Kissing: I couldn’t get enough of Imogen’s lips. They were soft to touch and delicious to taste. I traced the line of her shoulders and combed my fingers through the shiny, silky hair. Her tongue flicked at mine just inside my mouth. I caught it with my teeth and gently nipped. Pushing her flat on her back, I straddled her hips. Hands slipping under my dress, she squeezed my buttocks during the infinity of kisses which followed. I splayed my fingers on the sides of her face. I cupped her head and drank deep, thirsty draughts from those red, red lips.

Mouth covering her throat, tongue licking stripes over the blood vessels etched in relief under skin and muscle, I squeezed her small tits. Imogen had unzipped the back of my dress during the evolution of our kisses. Breaking contact just long enough to lift the dress from my shoulders, I threw it to the ground and fell on top of her clad only in a black bra and thong panties.

Undressing: Imogen sat up. At once my fingers shucked the shirt up over the tits. She hadn’t worn a bra. She didn’t need to. The nipples were tiny pebbles. I kissed each of them, sucked hard against the nubs, thick and swollen with the rush of blood. With my tongue spinning around the areolae and teeth scraping over the sensitive nerve endings, she held my head to her chest. The grip demanded a stronger touch, and I complied.

She nursed at my breasts as well. Wetting the nipples through the fabric of the bra, her lips tightened and released over one breast while her hand did the same over the other. She made deft work of the clasp in back. Deceptively powerful hands compressed and kneaded the flesh. She was a woman. She knew how rough she could be with a pair of tits. I loved that she mauled them, pinching and twisting the nipples. She bit down on me while she made eye contact. I adored the depths of those brilliant blue eyes.

When I had her top off, she leaned her back against my shoulder. I pulled the scrunchie from her head and loosened the plaits so that her hair fell free, the color of the gold the miller’s daughter had spun. The scent of flowers hit me and the softness of the memory of long summer afternoons running barefoot in the dewy grass.

Pulling away from me, Imogen broke this reverie. She stood on the mattress and peeled off her jeans. Her panties were next and mine followed.

“Stay just where you are,” I said. “Don’t move.”

I sprinted the two meters to the dresser and withdrew a slender vibrator from the toy drawer.

Fucking: Kneeling on the bed between her legs, I proceeded to feast. My hands smoothed over her thighs.

I sucked on the plastic vibrator to lubricate it and set it to purring against the pussy lips, which were also tiny. From her standing position, Imogen bent her right leg at the knee and kicked her foot off the wall. I squeezed the vibrator inside and fucked it in and out. Imogen was an uninhibited screamer. She made noises of ecstasy. I pounded her pussy with the toy and attacked the clitoris with my lips.

Her cunt had flavor. It tasted like sushi, like sangria, like fruit one day past the point of maximal ripeness. It had the salt scent of the ocean, sand castles on the beach, a sunset over water.

Squatting on my knees, I faced the far wall just as she did, and I tilted my head up. We clasped hands. Holding the rounded base of the vibrator in my mouth, I fucked her this way, using my face to stab the false cock into her cunt. Then I abandoned the toy altogether and pressed my mouth directly to her pussy.

She lifted her leg by the ankle to wing herself open for me and sloped her body against the wall. I stretched my arms up to cup and caress her tits.

My tongue slipped between the folds and became wedged there. I brought it up hard against her clit and repeated the movement. She moaned, grunted, and shrieked and pushed her weight down, smothering my face with her wet pussy. I kept licking, becoming frustrated when she wouldn’t come.

“How do you orgasm?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I’ve never had one,” Imogen stated.

I pulled her down to the bed and kissed her to forget my sorrow.

Foreplay (continued): Imogen laid on top of me. She mouthed my breasts. Her lips pecked at the curves. She kissed my belly. The way her tongue licked at my navel presaged what followed. The tip spiraled around the edge and stretched gingerly into the depression. Taking me by surprise, she sucked hard as she grasped the tits above. I gathered her hair in my hands while her lips covered my nipples. She looked at me while she sucked. I took her into my embrace to kiss her some more. My tongue followed the patterns of her tattoos.

Rolling on the bed, we felt each other’s pussies out. I liked the sensation of being inside a new cunt. I enjoyed the warmth within, how fluid her membranes were. I delighted in how the muscles gripped me, and the squishy wet noises I made as I drove the fingers in and out.

Whereas I explored her interior, Imogen played with my cunt without penetrating. First, she used her pointy fingernails to separate the pussy lips. The heel of her hand then rubbed against my pubis. She tugged and pulled and torqued the lips beneath. The pad of a finger brushed repeatedly over the slit. The sticky wetness poured from me in a thick syrup. It covered her hand, and she brought it to her lips to smell and taste. I slipped my tongue past the bars of the fingers and had the flavor of myself from the side of her mouth.

Eventually, my legs separated. The press of hands sent her down.

Being eaten: She tongued over my newly waxed pubis. Positioning my legs vertically in the air, she stooped to conquer. Her tongue flicked at the folds. She spit over the meaty and thick labia. Using her fingers for paintbrushes, she smeared her saliva over me, mixing new colors with the wetness that had seeped from the pores and spilled from my cunt.

Imogen blew over my clit and used her nails to tease the hood down. The tip of the digit slathered the wetness over the rigid bundle of nerves. Her index finger blurred as she licked. It was exquisite, how she lapped and touched. I panted expressively. Moaning, groaning, whispering obscenities to the girl, beseeching her for more, I pushed myself in the direction of orgasm.

My hand twisted through her long hair. I wound it around my palm and seized the reins to pull her to me. She licked diligently. Five minutes passed, or possibly ten. The nerves she activated rejoiced in the contact of lips and fingers. I constricted about the two digits that probed me and squirmed at how she took the clitoris between her teeth and tapped on its roof with a dexterous tongue. I clutched the purple sheets on my bed. She forced the orgasm from my folds.

Fingering: Once I had come, I felt a profound sense of debt. I buried the sensation of pity at her inability to orgasm with the impetus to pay her back with what pleasure I could. This was the only currency I possessed, the only exchange of any value.

I positioned her on all fours and rubbed my hand over labia, perineum, and asshole. The heels of my fingers dragged over the folds. I used the wetness from my own cunt to layer moisture over her pussy. My touch rolled over her in circles. The middle finger cleaved past her lips. I dipped it inside, curling up against the G-spot, pressing at the nerves there. I spun the tip as though I wanted to leave my prints over her walls. My mouth lapped at the sensitive expanse of skin between her two openings. I nosed at the anus, biting the flesh of the buttocks to either side. I needed to excite her in every way I knew.

Two fingers squeezed into the cunt. I fucked them in and out, twisting at the wrist. With my free hand, I rubbed the outside of my pussy, just as she had done before. With a finger on either side of my clitoris, I used the friction and pressure to excite myself. Both of us were moaning, she more so than me.

Imogen peered at me from between her legs and blew me a kiss. Bringing herself upright, she rocked on her hands and knees and pushed back at me while I fucked her. She groaned and hissed. Her pussy made wet suction noises.

My hand moved harder. I kept a constant tempo but penetrated deeper inside her cunt. I spanked her buttocks and kissed the red imprint my palm had left on her skin. Teeth sunk into the flesh of the ass. I caught the foot Imogen curled at me and bent to swipe my tongue over the sole. Working my way up the back of her leg, I determined to eat her again.

Eating: I started from behind, insinuating my face into the gap of her thighs. Lips covered the slit and kissed. I also lapped Imogen’s asshole — over, around, and through the taut ring of muscle — while my thumb worked the gate of the vagina.

Imogen fell over on her side and lifted one leg up in the air. A trimmed thatch of dark hair covered the pubis. The patch provided a soft cushion for my nose. It had as well absorbed her smells. I took deep sniffs of her musky scent.

She held the sides of my head while I tongued and smooched at the opening. With lips clamped upon her labia, I twisted my face. My tongue fluttered against the entrance. I rolled it into a cylinder and poked it within. I fastened my mouth to Imogen’s pussy and jawed at her with the lower mandible. My head turned to keep the points of contact in movement as I sucked the juices from her cunt. Lifting a hand to reach for a tit, I flattened her chest.

The sounds of her gasps filled the room. Her hand brushed through my hair. She gripped the scalp to keep my face permanently affixed to her cunt. She needn’t have bothered. I was not going anywhere. It simply wasn’t an option. I loved her taste. I loved having my face buried at the joining of her legs. The fifteen minutes I spent devouring her this way, even if the cunt stubbornly refused to come, was the climax of my evening.

69: Imogen had me sit on her face. Her arms wrapped my thighs. The hands held the buttocks. I rubbed my pussy over the bony chin and shifted it backward to her mouth. I smothered her in my heat.

Tipping myself over, I lowered between her legs. My head hung down. I used my fingers to pull at the two sides of her cunt and make the skin taut. My tongue licked at the folds. Little globules of spit trailed down the sides of her slit. It was a mental struggle to concentrate on licking pussy because the pleasure she provided to me was so overwhelming. The tension in my loins left me without speech. The musculature corded up in my back and in my thighs. I shook my feet to keep them from cramping and drifted forward and backward on elbows and knees like a rocking horse. I fucked her face.

The vise-like grip she had on my thighs tightened. Somehow, Imogen managed not to suffocate under the weight on top of her head. Her tonguetip dashed against my clit. Lifting my chest up from her belly, I spun my hips over her head. I used three fingers to fuck her pussy while her tongue threaded the lips of my cunt. I liked how sticky she was inside. The thickness of the waters that layered the walls of the vagina lubricated the rapid movements.

Both of us gasped incoherently. Imogen’s moans were muffled by pussy.

Whisky: After my multiple orgasms, which I felt guilty about because she had none of her own, we sat on the bed and kissed. Our fingers worked each other’s pussies, and we brought them to our lover’s lips to taste. Departing the bed just long enough to grab the nearly empty bottle of Dalwhinnie from the shelf, I took a swig and passed it over to her. The touch of whisky contrasted on the palate with the richer flavors of cunt.

I tipped the bottle to the side and poured whisky on her breasts. The alcohol was cool on the skin; it made her giggle. The flow of liquid left a path along her sternum and down the abdomen. I splashed drops over her nipples and also her pussy. My tongue followed the stream from source to delta. The admixture of whisky and sweat and pussy juice tasted like the ambrosial nectar of the gods.

Imogen tilted the dregs of the bottle over my mouth. She licked the Dalwhinnie where it had fallen, around my lips and down my throat. I had it from her tongue, the breath of a dragon.

We rubbed each other’s cunts and kissed endlessly.

Tribbing: The kisses ended with Imogen flat on the bed, except for her legs, which peaked as mountains. I sat between them, as though on a saddle, and scissored one of my legs to either side of one of hers. Lips kissing, the pussies pressed together. I rolled my hips and danced my cunt above while my fingers seized her nipples and pulled. Imogen raised her lower body from the mattress to drive her pubis against mine. We continued like this until I came. The juices flooded from my vagina into hers.

Afterwards, we laid on the bed, one of our heads at either end. I had a foot on top of her left breast and hugged her right calf to my cleavage. Each of us extended the free leg fully, stretching along the flank of the other’s body. With this geometry, we rubbed pussies, rutting at each other through the moans, desperate to touch everywhere, to improve the contact, the drag, the thrust, the movement, and the pressure, to feel it just a bit differently, from a slightly better angle.

After one more orgasm, I laid kisses on her shin while I recovered.

We sat up and kissed and toppled over again and kissed some more. The last I remember of the night is huddling my body next to hers under the quilt. Her arms reached around me and grasped my breasts.

I was woken in the morning by languorous kisses. She nursed at my nipples and reached a hand between my legs. We rutted, one on top of the other for a final time.

I have Imogen’s number. I gave her mine. I hope to look her up when I return to London in January.

A visit with Claire October 5, 2010

Posted by Leah in Cunnilingus, Repeated hookups, Sapphic, Spanking, Urine.

I have been in the UK a little over three months and didn’t manage to leave London until last Saturday. My friend Claire, who I have played with previously, lives to the south of the city. She attends a university nearby and makes her home with her parents. Their absence this weekend provided the perfect opportunity for a second meeting. I took the train down from Waterloo. Though I have mused lately about sex on the railroad, the journey was uneventful.

Flats in London, especially at my price point, tend toward the small. The apartment in Boston feels spacious compared to my present accommodation. I enjoyed visiting a proper house with a yard in back. Though it would have been nice to rub pussies in the grass and the mud, the cold rain and the view of the neighbors dissuaded us from having a romp outside. We played dirty indoors instead.

I arrived in time for lunch. After we ate, we secreted ourselves in the bedroom. The clothes came off. I beat Claire’s delightful little pussy with the back side of a wooden spoon. I opened her cunt with it and spit inside her vagina. She fucked my asshole with a dildo while she licked my clitoris. An hour or so into play, we descended the stairs to the kitchen to retrieve drinks.

When we had hydrated our parched throats with glasses of wine, I had Claire sit on the countertop between the sink and the stove. My kisses began at her mouth and fell over her breasts and belly. The tongue in her navel was a tease and a promise. She placed her feet on the counter. The legs spread apart like wings, I kissed the secret, sacred spaces between them. The lips of her pussy are thick and meaty. My teeth nipped the sensitive folds. I squeezed my tongue into the fissure. Squatting on the floor, my arms stretched up so that I could run my hands over her arms and massage her tits while my mouth worked her cunt. Claire rocked her hips and thighs at me while I finger fucked her pussy and diddled the clit. I rubbed her with the fingers of both hands. The membrane inside was slick with arousal and need. The muscles gripped my two fingers while I covered her open mouth with my lips. I loved how she moaned her pleasure, especially when I bent to have another taste of the piquant fluids that had escaped her vagina.

After she came, Claire giggled and said she needed to pee.

She had read my blog. I told her to piss in my face.

She squatted on the counter, heels and buttocks and the arms at back supporting her weight. My hands ran over the inner faces of her thighs. The pussy gaped at me. I kissed her ass where it flared below.

The urine fountained out in a trickle. Claire tilted the pussy up by flattening the skin at the pubis and angling her groin. Holding her feet for purchase, I positioned my face under the stream and let the rain fall over me. I closed my eyes and allowed the water to douse my head. It fell over my nose and my cheeks. I twisted my body as I do in the shower. The incipient trickle had become a rush. It wet my hair and drenched my skin. I spread my jaws wide and inched myself forward so that hot piss would fill my mouth. I spit it out when my lips were full. I swallowed. The piss spilled over my chin and onto my breasts. I fluttered my tongue over the pussy lips while the waters were still bursting out. The flood of urine soaked me through and through. I was drowning in the waterfall. My lips tugged hers as the flow diminished at last to a leak and a drip. As I splashed my feet in the enormous puddle on the floor, Claire kissed me, tasting her pee on my lips and tongue. Afterwards, I pressed my breasts against the folds of the labia and pinched the wet lips about my peaked nipples.

Of course, I had a turn as well, pissing into her face. I stood on the floor while Claire knelt. It was her baptism. When the urine began to flow, she slipped her body under my legs so that the stream fell over her breasts and on the joining of her legs. Claire rubbed her hands over her chest and shoulders as she bathed herself in my urine. She kissed me, mouthing the pussy while I peed. When it ended, she looked beautiful, dripping wet, her skin beaded with my pee. I liked that she pulled me to the ground and ate my cunt to an orgasm once my bladder had emptied. The piss on the floor was still warm on my back and my buttocks. I came flapping my arms over the wet floor.

We mopped up the mess in the kitchen and showered together so that we were once again clean for a few minutes. The plush towels swaddled us.

Day five September 3, 2010

Posted by Leah in Anilingus, Bondage, Boyfriend, Buggery, Collarme, Cunnilingus, D/s, Fellatio, Fucking, Sapphic, Spanking.

We hastily dress when the intercom buzzes. By the time she walks up the stairs, I have put on the boyfriend’s button-down shirt. It just covers my ass. I am naked below. He has pulled on his jeans and a t-shirt and is combing his hair in the mirror. I met her through Collarme. She is 20, from the south, new to her submissive identity, and still in the process of exploring the possibilities of that role. The girl — she wants me to call her Claire — has never been in a threesome before. We have been writing back and forth for about two weeks. She talked to me first on Tuesday (day four) and then to the boyfriend over the phone. I told her about my blog. She read through it and called us back. She is eager and enthusiastic to play. I want to give my boyfriend a threesome. We arranged a date. We educated her about safewords and promised her that we would go as slowly as she needed.

The photos do her no justice at all. She knocks on the door softly and stands shyly when we open. The hair falls on her face, and she blushes. She is wearing a black sequined skirt and a blue and silver top. Her legs are athletic. The muscles of her thighs have such perfect definition. I remember that she said she plays footie and runs. I want to lick my tongue along the lines and the shadows of her legs.

We get her a drink. She and I sit on the couch while the boyfriend sits in the chair opposite. We talk awhile — two of us adoring her accent — and then I ask if I can touch her body. I lower the top slightly and brush my fingers over the curves of her breasts. My hand runs along the inside of her thigh while we kiss. I undress her. I pull the tie on the halter in back and remove the top and the bra. As I help her with her skirt and panties, I notice the boyfriend rubbing his erection through his jeans. I point this out to Claire and suggest that we blow him together.

He pulls off his pants and shows us the erection. Claire goes to her knees at once. I kiss the boyfriend on the mouth and follow. My fingers raise her hand up his thigh to the snarl of the pubis. The two of us are on either side of him. We kiss around the shaft. Her tongue touches mine as we press our lips together. One of us moves up the left side as the other moves down the right. I hold her hair out of the way while she sucks my boyfriend’s cock full on. I lick his ass while she takes him into her throat. There are wet sounds front and back. The boyfriend makes noises like he is drowning.

He didn’t come at all the day before. He has semen to give. I ask Claire if she wants him to deposit in her mouth. She says yes.

I know the boyfriend has been holding back. The double blowjob might be his favorite act, at least visually. I lower my head between his thighs and use my lips to tug on his balls while Claire sucks him. When I sense the orgasm approaching, I squeeze my index finger past the sphincter, which I have made wet, and press it against the prostate. My grip tightens around the base of his cock and steadies the shaft. He spews into her mouth, convulsing between lips that have clamped down upon him. I fall on top of Claire and chase the come with my tongue. We roll on the floor, kissing as we trade the semen back and forth. I lick the white spots at the corners of her lips. I take my fair share from her mouth, show my lovers the spunk that coats my tongue, and swallow ostentatiously. After that, the three of us retire to the bedroom.

We play in many ways over a mostly sleepless night. The condom frustrates us. He can’t fuck us both, one after another. I lower myself below Claire and lick her clitoris while he slams her from behind. My legs are open. Claire contorts herself to moan into my pussy while her cunt is filled. When the boyfriend fucks me, I am on top of the shaft. She is seated beside me on the bed. She kisses my breasts and diddles my clit while I bounce my body over the familiar penis. Adding and removing condoms helps make the sex last. He chooses to come inside her instead of me. I like that he can enjoy a new girl this way.

Between his orgasms, the boyfriend ties Claire’s body to mine. We sixty-nine for his pleasure and ours. Her waters have the taste and consistency of syrup. The wetness flattens her bush. My cunt, by contrast, is waxed and polished. I suggest to the boyfriend that we shave her bare. We use his shaving cream and razor to accomplish the task. I am careful not to cut her. Soon she is smooth like me. I like licking the bare skin. I like the taste of her sweat mingled with the secretions of her pussy.

The boyfriend concludes I owe him another spanking as Claire is one more lover on my list. He has her do it with the hairbrush on my ass. Claire doesn’t go easy on me. She doesn’t go slowly. She doesn’t soothe and caress the skin between the blows she delivers. I am red and hurting when she finishes. At the end of it, she volunteers to take the same punishment from me. Claire doesn’t know what she is asking. I demur until the boyfriend demands it of me. I give a more careful spanking than what she has offered me. But I don’t pull my punches either. It hurts less to be spanked than to spank. I make a face and flinch each time she does. I am sympathetic to her pain. Fingers on her pussy help her endure it.

The boyfriend pulls a condom on and tells me to prepare Claire’s ass. He wants to come in her body in all the ways. There’s a look of trepidation in her eyes. She confesses to us that she has only ever put a vibrator in there. I reassure her with kisses and murmurs. I lick her anus so that the spit coats the entry and squeeze lube inside her asshole and smear it on the walls with my finger. Suppressing my reaction to the taste of latex, I suck the cock to hardness and run lube over that as well. Prying her cheeks apart, I place the head against Claire’s opening. She winces at the entry. The boyfriend shifts his hips and presses forward an inch at a time. When he is embedded halfway, he drags his length out and sinks it back in again. Over the span of minutes, he muscles his way deeper, until he has penetrated to the balls. It hurts her, but there is pleasure also. I hold Claire by the shoulders and kiss her while she is fucked. I support her weight and tell her to play with her pussy and her clit. Soon discomfort and pain are the lesser sensations. I am toying with her nipples when she creams. It is her second orgasm that sets my boyfriend off. He roars his semen into her and passes out on the bed soon after.

We giggle at him. The night continues for us. Claire and I huddle in the bathroom and perform our ablutions. We snuggle together on the sofa and drink and mess around some more. I show her my toy collection and have her try out assorted implements. We tongue each other to new orgasms. Eventually, the boyfriend wakes and joins us for one more go. Again, we swap the condoms on and off. He comes in my cunt this time, without protection. Claire smothers me with her pussy at the end. My nose is crushed. I breathe through my mouth while I tongue her lips. I feel her weight on top of my face. There isn’t as much semen as before, but what the boyfriend leaves leaks out. Claire licks me clean of his spendings and my own juices. She sucks my cunt and clit until I come again. I can’t get enough of her taste, so when she finishes, I start on her immediately.

The artist August 2, 2010

Posted by Leah in Bondage, Collarme, Cunnilingus, Fisting, Sapphic, Spanking, Switching.

She isn’t my type physically. But she has a smile and a charm, an easy way of speaking, and, oh, there’s that laugh. I haven’t been with a woman since February. I go home with her.


We have been chatting because she liked my ad on Collarme, an alternative to Craigslist that I have been exploring. Like me, she switches with women. Like me, she prefers a submissive role to men. Like me, she is in a long distance relationship. While her partner is away, she amuses herself with the girls that she finds.


Her art covers her walls. I don’t find the canvases appealing. At their best, it’s Modi on a very bad day, though, I suppose, the bulk of Modi’s days weren’t good. The erotic drawings are better. They’re scenes of orgies. A woman masturbates two men at once while she sucks off a third man. Girls are doubled and tripled up. Ariadne mounts the Minotaur. Her cunt is a labyrinth. There is a small self-portrait among her pictures. She is on her knees licking semen from a girl’s cunt. A man has her on a leash. Another man, the one who has come, stands over the two females on the ground. His cock is dripping.


In the bedroom, we strip each other and kiss. My tongue is lazy in tracing her body’s curves. I nurse at her large breasts. My lips dawdle over her belly, floating slowly down. She keeps a soft thatch of hair on top of her pussy. I swipe my fingers through, following with my mouth. Unhurriedly, I descend to her glistening cunt. I kiss the lips below as I have kissed the lips above. My fingers delve into the secret spaces, front and back. She hands me a vibrator. Slender, pink, the writing on it is worn from use. I set it to buzzing against her clitoris while I lick at the passage. Her scents are overpowering. She tastes of musk and spice and sweetness. I make her come four times in half an hour.


She has a two sided dildo that is a foot and a half long and a translucent blue. She puts one end in her cunt and has me sit astride the other. The dildo is bendy. It is a challenge to find an angle that works for both of us. We abandon the sex toy and rub our pussies together directly. Tribadism, it is called. Her legs wrap mine. I press my hard clit at her entrance like it is a tiny cock. We come this way, flooding over pubises and legs.


There are restraints affixed to the corners of the bed. I slip into them. She buckles the leather belts over my wrists and ankles. Out comes a riding crop. She uses it to slap my breasts and thighs. She asks my age and spanks my pussy once for each year I have lived. The pain sears the nerves. I scream as the world burns in agony. She kisses my tears when she finishes and offers herself for my revenge.


I fist her. The lube covers my hand like grease. It is slow going. Fingers thrust together, I make my hand narrow and muscle a way through. The back of the hand, where the knuckles jut out, is a difficult squeeze, but she is wet and my hand is small. We manage. When I am inside to the wrist, I roll the hand in her cunt and swim in viscous fluids. The pads of my fingers poke at the walls of the vagina and add a twist. I reach in as far as I am able and clench my fingers into a fist. The water issues from her pores. I see it cascading over the folds. I lap at her piquant juices.


The mouth is everywhere on me, everywhere esurient, everywhere edacious — lipping the skin, nipping and nibbling, gnawing and knowing. The point of her tongue spins, the contact a tittle, titillation. The flat of the tongue is painting in broad brushstrokes on a canvas of strained, stained flesh. I am singing. The notes are soprano. It is an aria of indecent whispers, obscene imprecations, slanderous, scabrous, scurrilous, and without shame.