Jun 152009
 

My knuckles pressed into the pale hollow formed by his hip as the muscles and bone slipped beneath skin damp from the shower, and I slid my hand up his side, ribs evident beneath an expanse of freckles.

“What’s with this Jesus of Nazareth post-fasting look you’re rocking here, dude?”

He laughed, somewhat ruefully.

“Yeah that happens when your focus on food being pleasurable shifts: you don’t really think much about eating. A protein bar is fine…” he trailed off as I wound my leg around his much longer one, my body shifted towards him and my breast was within reach.

“But your tummy issues are better?” I slid my arm under his head, hair damp, my chin on his forehead.

“Yeah…”

His reddish goatee scratching a heated trail of skin sensitized by the scrubbing sensation from my throat to my mouth as his insistent lips caught and nipped skin eliciting my sharp inhalations that drove him to more aggressive exploration of my body his hands pulling and pinching and twisting an arm between my legs my knee bent his elbow on my thigh and wait somehow under my head. His blue eyes meeting my myopic brown ones he pulls off my glasses and I laugh

“Now I can’t see…”

“You wanna keep your glasses on?”

“It might be interesting to see how long they last.”

He is close enough that I can see him his gaze dropping from mine to slide appreciatively down my body as he grabs fistfuls of me rippling reverberations of almost subaudible desire a counterpoint to one hand on my hip another squeezing the flesh on my belly and another or is it the first hand on the back of my neck nipple caught I must have lost track of his hands but one now is insinuating between my thighs going for my pussy but I keep my legs tightly together until his leveraging wins the day.

“Why are…open your legs, baby…” and though I’d usually comply something makes me shy at that moment absurd yes but once he gets the upper hand as it were he quickly realized the subtext of my reluctance is that “Goddamn your pussy is wet baby…” Fingers slipping in the flagrant fragrant evidence of my complete inability to “play it cool” once I’m raring to go and I was distracted from being embarrassed soon enough since I was shortly focused on his cock as it prized open my jaw and my hand gripped in that pushpull reaction I tend to have when getting face fucked. But when I have a gagging mouth full of cock I’m not necessarily able to do my best…work…as it were so I push away harder the barest edge of my teeth tugging lightly on the skin of his cock and…

…there…

…the perfect depth angle and position for me to…

“Ahhhhfucking hell my god baby you are such a good little cocksucker …” a violent hiss of breath and his cock is rapidly a fading memory on my dripping tongue as he pulls me over towards him with his free hand, the other busily fisting his upthrust cock “I have to fuck you. Right now. Right fucking now…” condom on…then his balled up fists on either side of my head his muscled forearms on either side of my face as he fucks his cock into my cunt my hands my fingers my fingernails dig into the sway of his back my breath caught in my throat as my feet

…my … feet…?

my feet feel as though they are on fire then legs hands shaking… my body begins a slow implosion that will I know take him with me but for him slowing down slowing slowing even as I’m on the brink of an orgasm then the brink is past and my own eyes rolled back into my head are blind to anything but the punishing reward of an orgasm that smites me from myself even as the tendons in his neck reflect the immense willpower he exerts as he holds fast on the brink over which I’ve already fallen and I regain a bit of the present and he is slow slow rolling slow “No…not yet…not yet…not yet…” his mantra as the muscles on the underside of my legs aftershock to their own seismic sexuality and I breathe one two feeling that no it isn’t over not yet, not yet and I laugh through my nose as he leans in to whisper that he “Isn’t done yet…” and I slide. Deeper, deeper and further.

_______________________________________________________________________________

“You don’t have to freak to hit the peak” ~ Courtesy of @BigOlPoofter, via Twitter

Oct 142008
 
Smoke em if ya got em, Christ.

Smoke 'em if ya got 'em, Christ.

I have decided that Christianity has the unsexiest god fucking IMAGINABLE. Seriously. Even his son isn’t all that. Sure, the walking on water thing is kind of cool, it would probably have gotten the girls kinda hot back in Galilee and all. OK, Goth chicks could SO be into Jesus what with the stigmata and robes and hair and thorny headgear and all.

In general, I am sorry; The Judeo-Christian thing just doesn’t mush my sledteam.

I could so not bottom to Jesus.

But go to pretty much any other religious practice, and hoo boy, it gets MUCH hotter.

Wooooah here she comes...watch out boys she'll chew you up...

Look at the ancient Egyptian gods. You got Sekhmet, woman with lioness head.

She parties like a rock star and gets drunk from the steaming entrails-n- blood of the wicked. Tell me a few hours with her and a roll in the hay would not that be the shit! She could claw my back and growl in my ear ’till Hathor came home.

I would personally also do Anubis…love the jackal headed look. Big old long tongue coupled with a ripped godlike male body, just going at you from all sides…oh. Yes. Dark, brooding, sociopathic, definitely hot dom material.

A Vévé for Erzuli.

A shout out to Erzuli.

The Vodoun Loas do not mess around. They do not even need to manifest in order to fuck your brains out: they will do that shit to you in front of a houngan, backed up by a room full of tranced out worshipers. Hell, they might possess a few bystanders just to make sure that they get a reach around. Mindfuck, much???

Let us look at Buddha. Hey, the man obviously is feeling good. ALL the time. Big belly, baldhead, and OBVIOUSLY flexible despite his OM-belly. I am willing to bet he’d be a FANtastic romp.

Zeus would probably be good for a few weeks of fun, what with his propensity for turning into Bulls, pillars of light, swans, you name it. the master role-playing top. Problem is, he does not do poly well, and you would probably wind up a tree, a spider, or some shit when Hera finds out. Like a lot of strutting Über-tops, he is totally topped by his primary partner. Who is super jealous. And a goddess. And vengeful. On second thought….Lame.

Screw that. Zeus is SO off my list.

Now, there are plenty of mythic creatures who pique my interest. Satyrs, for the OBVIOUS reason…merpeople, because that shit would just be freakyhot…centaurs, though I am a little baffled by the logistics. Probably be best to have, like, two of ‘em…

Nevertheless, there is one god who I find not only totally all off the chain sexy, in a really perverted yet religiously wholesome and reverent kind of way. He has got it ALL going on.

So, without further adieu, my #1 top pick of god or mythic creature I’d like to have hitting this ass:

Ganesha.

The Hotness of Hunduism. Deny it not.

Aum Shri Ganeshaya Nama, bitches.

Seriously.

OK, check it.

He dances, which I like. Good sense of humor, he is the Lord of success and destroyer of evils and obstacles. He is also the god of education, knowledge, wisdom, writing and wealth. All very Good Things.

He has not one, not two, not three, but FOUR arms. F-O-U-R. That is TWENTY fingers. And, check out those mudras he is constantly working. Homeboy has serious digital dexterity going ON.

…and that trunk…. swoon The imagination just goes wild. You know that your standard issue elephant can pick up a pea with its trunk, don’t you? OK, so we have an elephant headed GOD with a trunk for a nose. Imagine THAT doing its thing. Word.

Plus he has his own toy-bag. Rope, a broken tusk, a knife, AND SNACKS.

Come on.

SNACKS, people!

WHo000oooOO0o.

OK, enough sacrilege for the evening…I am going to fall asleep wistfully pondering my list of the top 10 trunk-assisted sexual positions.

What, you don’t know The Lord G’s story?

Well here you go, sillybeans! Sister Unity of the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence Explains it all For you!

Oct 102008
 

 [disclaimer] This is a description of an impromptu scene I experienced several years ago. I post it since I had a discussion recently about scenes that rumba on the edge of non-consensual assaulted nutjob time. While there is implicit consent overall, the act described herein is not something I condone for everyone, and Might Be Upsetting. Please don’t click-through if seemingly non-consensual sexual play might … MIGHT be triggering for you. Take care of yourself! [/disclaimer]

 

I’m one of those people who really like to play rough sexually. No big whoop. But I am also one of those people who eroticized shit that might seem bizarre, even to hardcore perverts. Like humiliation, housework, feeling trapped. Of course, this shit is bread & butter & afternoon tea for some people. And so it goes.

A thirty day practically live-in service contract can be either fun or grueling. In the middle of a heat wave in the middle of a particularly warm summer, it can be both. I was in service to a friend of mine, a long time play partner, and today was the day to clean the house. No mean feat for a 3-story 3 bedroom 3 bathroom home with a dungeon downstairs that had toys scattered everyplace from goddess-knows-what he’s been up to the night before. But I settled in to the task, since it helps me to zone out.

By the time I got to the first floor, even the AC was not adequate to keep me cool so I was down to a bra. The noise from the vacuum was pretty loud, and I didn’t hear him walk down from his office on the second floor of the house and lean in the doorway. I jumped startled when I saw him there, waved hi, and continued my work. He didn’t leave, and I was feeling a bit self-conscious, vacuuming naked, and not feeling particularly sexy. He had this kind of thoughtful but blank look as he watched.

With him, this is Never A Good Sign.

He abruptly left.

I didn’t feel any better. When there’s a wasp in the room you’d like to know where it is and what it is up to. With him out of eyeshot, it was impossible to know what in hell he had planned. If anything. But that look…

I shrugged it off and continued to clean.

About ten minutes or so later, he came back downstairs. This time in the same state of undress as me. Well, without the bra, of course. I took a step back because….I was a bit scared. And I was really pretty much in the “Clean the house!!” zone, so a 6’4” tall naked frosty-eyed man striding towards you is enough to give you pause. He wrapped my braids in his hand, yanked back my head and instructed me to “Turn the fucking vacuum cleaner off.”

It was tough, bent backwards as I was, but I felt around with my foot and shut it down. The sudden silence was deafening. With another wrap of my hair around his fist, I was driven down to my knees and my mouth driven over his cock. The unexpected shove made me gag and wheeze, and push my hands against his thighs, trying to dislodge him.

My hands were immediately slapped away, my head pulled backwards, and my face, both cheeks, left and right, slapped also.

…there is one handhold on reality gone…

He was eerily silent as he shoved his cock back down my throat, and I tried to relax, to not choke….how long before I was yanked up and thrown over the back of the couch? No idea. I was starting to cry from the disorienting feeling of having to change gears, of not being aroused, and not knowing what in hell he was about to do…I realized he was preparing to fuck me, a condom wrapper drifting in the periphery of my vision.

“P—pplease– I’m on my period…”

He looked down ”So you are.’ He jerked me back to my feet, dragged me to the bathroom and pushed me down on the toilet, reaching between my legs to pull the tampon out.

..oo, the grip on reality is slipping…not too many fingers left…hold on…

I was suddenly so humiliated, I burst into tears. My vision was blurred by hot exploding lachrymation as he lifted me bodily off of the toilet, pushing me back towards the couch.
Bent over again, I feel him entering me suddenly. Under most circumstances, this would have been far, far too painful, but there was plenty of blood to ease his entry. I continued to cry as he fucked me over the back of the couch, my arms wrapped around my head to cradle me from banging it against the wall. My scalp ached from his constant pulling pulling pulling then oh my god what is he doing…

I felt the head of his cock pressed against my ass. No lube, no….no way…

I pulled around, his face millimeters from mine, his eyes really quite…not…there…

I wept.

“You can’t….you can’t do that…you need lube…something…”

He smiled that terrible, terrible smile.

“Oh, I think that isn’t a problem…there’s plenty of blood.”

And in one thrust, he made his point.

I felt as though I’d been punched in the stomach, the pain was so great. I tried to not scream…it was the middle of the afternoon in a Very Nice Neighborhood and I didn’t want to have the Police involved but GODDESS goddess did it hurt. I was hyperventilating and barking into the couch when he pulled my head back, and whispered

“Scream all you want to one is gonna come help you anyway, you little black bitch…”

And scream I did. Shrieking wailing incoherent gurgling shouts rent the quiet of the room, and the pain was profound. White hot with my skin ice cold and just to make it more interesting his teeth in the back of my neck so that the loop of pain became even more rapid and dangerous…I was losing my mind, the grip slipping…

His thrusts became staggered, deeper, his hand shoved me forward until I was against the wall and pillows barely able to breathe, and I knew he was about to be finished and I was glad because this ordeal would be over and I’d have proven I could take it and it would be over but then then he said did he I think he said it just three words

“Come. For. Me”

and goddesses help me I did, I did shaking so hard he was almost losing his hold on me screaming so loudly and without restraint that my throat felt flayed and hurt his terrible, terrible growls in my ear pushing me further even and holy shit I cannot stop another wave of punishing obliterating orgasm…
gone gone gone nothing to hold on to
some time passed.

There was a warm wet towel tossed at me, casually. “Clean yourself up. You’re a mess. And finish vacuuming.”

And I did.

Then I curled on the corner of the same couch where I’d been so brutally violated, so suddenly, and just stayed. Very. Still.

He came bouncing back downstairs, dressed again, grinning like a kid.

“Hey!! Look! Here! There’s sorbet!! I brought you mango. That’s your favorite, right?”

SO thoughtful….no? It IS my favorite  And he was one of my favorite play-partners, for years.