Monthly Archives: February 2007

Always The Bridesmaid?

Several years ago I was invited to a friend’s wedding. It was a lovely summer’s day and everything went really well.

He had very sensibly arranged the stag night for the previous weekend, giving everyone time to recover. And we needed it. I seem to remember his best man, who I thought would have had his best interests at heart, buying him several very large whiskies in quick succession. The groom was already wasted by this point and didn’t need any more to drink. He was having enough trouble sitting up in his chair.

I discretely disposed of one drink after another by spillage and by drinking two of them myself. I was already half cut but I wasn’t as drunk as the groom. We eventually got him home around 4 am. I got home as the sun was coming up and lost most of the rest of that weekend to sleep and a hangover.

Anyway, back to my post. I was standing in the church, like everyone else, waiting for the bride to join the groom at the altar. She looked lovely, but then brides tend to don’t they, something about the occasion makes them glow. Then my eye was drawn to the bridesmaids, all looking lovely in their emerald green satin gowns. One in particular looked stunning. My jaw dropped, her blue-green eyes sparkled, her hair shone, even in the muted light of the church. The flowers in her hair were at once feminine, pure and sensual. I found myself smiling at her, and she smiled back. Nice one!

During the meet and greet at the reception venue she was standing next to the bride. She held my hand for a few moments longer than was necessary when she shook it, her eyes engaging with mine, filled with promise.

The speeches and meal were pleasant though too long, if only because I wanted to get hold of the bridesmaid who was seated across the room on the top table. Finally the meal was over and I stepped outside onto the terrace overlooking the hotel’s golf course while the staff cleared the tables and prepared the dance floor.

I could hear the DJ winding up his patter so, drink in hand, I turned to re-enter the function room. She was walking towards me, her captivating eyes sparkling.

“Hello” she said in a deeply alluring tone.

“Hi. Green suits you.” I looked down at her cleavage, what a sight, full and firm, my eyes moved to the smooth skin of her shoulder and neck.

She smiled coyly, not a feigned coyness, a genuine modesty and very attractive in its honesty. “Thank you. I’m a little hot, fancy a walk to cool down?”

“Why not.”

The terrace was built on a sloping piece of ground, so one end was raised, the other met up with the green sward of lush grass at the edge of the course. About fifty meters from the hotel, hidden from watching eyes by a dense shrubbery we stopped. I turned and took her hand, raised it to my lips and kissed it.

“Am I allowed to say you look more beautiful than the bride?” I asked.

“Only if she doesn’t hear you.” She laughed and leant in to kiss me.

I slid my hand around the back of her neck pulling her lips to mine. I stopped myself, with some effort, from launching into a full-on deep and passionate kiss as I didn’t want to disturb her lipstick. Her hand slipped behind me and squoze my backside for a moment. My cock had begun to stir.

“I ought to get back, they’ll be having the first dance soon.”

“OK” I smiled, “Do I get the first dance with you?”

“And the last.” She winked.

~~~

The night progressed well. I managed to avoid the alcoholic oblivion of the previous weekend. The groom however did his best to get thoroughly drunk, though the bride never complained of a let-down on her wedding night, just of having a pile of confetti fall out of her basque when she took it off.

I got the second dance with the bridesmaid, but she was slightly elusive that night, partly because she was mingling with the guests and partly because every man wanted to dance with her. She kept looking for me, searching me out across the room no matter what kept us apart.

Then as the reception drew to a close the last dance arrived. OK not the last dance that was the usual cheesy rendition of “New York, New York” by Frank Sinatra and the drunken mob of guys in dishevelled suits that always appear at the end of the night to murder the lyrics and strangle the melody of Ol’ Blue Eye’s second most famous standard.

I’m talking about the proper last dance. The one that counts. We began dancing almost at a very respectable distance from one another, but I quickly drew her in close, she smiled as I did so. Our bodies moved together, her head came to rest on my shoulder, her breath stroking the skin on my neck. We were so engrossed in one another that I don’t remember the song. There was no dirty dancing, just a natural closeness between two human beings and an expressed passion waiting under the surface. I coaxed her head from my shoulder as the final bars approached, her face was a beauteous vision looking up at me.

I leant forward and kissed her, gently at first as I had done earlier. The tenderness stayed, but the passion won-out and took us both as we expressed it with our mouths. Enraptured, our clashing, wrestling tongues continued well after the track had finished and into the grotesque cabaret of NY-NY and it’s high-kicking drunken chorus line.

~~~

Hotel corridors, at night, after a party. They have a special kind of quiet. Not a total silence, but the sound of people snoring in beds that aren’t there own, the occasional night porter running an errand. There’s the lighting too, often a little stark, especially when, at two in the morning, you’re ready for some soft lighting and relaxation.

We stood outside an unfamiliar door, my keycard in one hand and two bottles of mineral water I’d acquired from behind the bar. I’d like to say it was number sixty-nine, but alas not, 57 LOL. The lock beeped and we stepped inside, her first. I fumbled for the dimmer switch and illuminated the room with just enough light to see by. The door closed and we were alone in the comforting cocoon of the room.

“Drink” I offered a bottle of water. “Thanks”

I slipped off my jacket as we refreshed ourselves.

A few gulps and the bottles were placed, unfinished, on the dressing table. We were standing together at the foot of the bed. I slid an arm around her waist and pulled her close. Our lips met, tongues collided and I felt myself hardening in my suit. Her hands reached up to my face, cupping it, gentle fingers on my cheeks.

Her hands slid down and slid the knot of my tie loose. She struggled with the top button of my shirt, so I helped, stepping back slightly to allow myself the room to manoeuvre. Her eyes glinted, even in the low light, pupils wide and expectant.

I finally removed my shirt and tossed it over the back of a chair. She turned and looked at me over her shoulder, she needed me to unzip her dress, the look she gave was loaded with pure sexual energy. I slid down the zip, mouth dry with excitement. When she stepped out of the gown I could see her strapless basque in all its glory, bottle green and holding in her full breasts with a gravity defying design. She was wearing matching panties and black stocking, with small heals. Apparently the bride didn’t want anyone taller than her.

I slipped out of my trousers, having the presence of mind to remove my socks. Shit, guys look ridiculous fucking with their socks on. Then off with my underwear, my cock was threatening to rip them apart anyway.

I hooked a finger in each side of her panties and, kneeling in front of her I pulled them down. Her pussy’s aroma betrayed her arousal, nuzzled into it, drinking in her heavy bouquet. I stood up and pushed her backwards into a sitting position on the bed, my cock waving in front of her face as if I was attempting to hypnotise her with it.

She leant forward to take it in her mouth, but I needed to be inside so I pushed her back onto the bed. She shuffled backwards towards the headboard and I slid between her legs, parting them. My cock found its mark and pressed against her labia. Her backed arched slightly, head back, lips parted in a soundless gasp of pleasure. My glans parted her and slid inside her moist entrance.

The sensation was luxurious, sliding against the resistance of her sex, feeling every contour of her interact with the topography of my penis. Her hands grabbed my shoulder, her legs wrapped around my back and I came to rest deep inside her. Our eyes met and we saw in each other the same need.

I swung my hips back and forth, feeling her nails at first graze then bit into my shoulders. I could see the orgasm building in her, her eyes, her movements, the wetness of her pussy all told me that she was so close, she must have been imagininig this moment all night. The excitement almost overwhelmed me, but I held on until the first waves of tightness in her vaginal muscles signalled to me that I could release myself in a thrusting red and gold orgasm.

She held me tight as we reached our climax together, and continued to hold me tight as the orgasmic tension began to dissipate from both of us and we lay next to each other on the bed.

And in the morning we showered together and were very late for breakfast.

So here’s a little message for the bridesmaid. Please don’t always be the bridesmaid, that way I can guarantee the most beautiful woman at the wedding will be the bride. I’m asking you now, this year, even if it’s just a quiet wedding, Suzanne will you marry me?

Marco 2

This story and “Marco” (its predecessor) were inspired by a story on Anastasia’s blog.

“A pleasure to see you again Mr De Marco.”, oozed the matre’d.

“Miguel”, replied Marco with a nod. Marco was “A list”, no “A+ list”. The Spaniard knew this and tolerated the obnoxious star because of the photographers loitering outside his doors. On leaving a dozen shutters would chatter capturing “Marc De Marco leaving the famed San Juan’s restaurant”. One day, when his films began to flop and lenses pointed elsewhere he would not find it so easy to leapfrog the three month waiting list for a table.

Miguel escorted Marco to the best table in the house and called over the head waitress. “No” interrupted Marco “I want her”. He pointed out a dark haired girl, around twenty five years of age, latin in appearance. “You want Tierra, she’s only just joined us, maybe …” Miguel knew what an asshole Marco could be.

“I want Tierra to serve me”

And that was that. Tierra attended to Marco. She ignored his leering down her cleavage, staring at her ass. She even managed not to flinch when his hand “accidentally” brushed against her stocking clad leg. She was polite, smiled and served him without feeling the need to drop anything hot on the little shit’s lap. Miguel was impressed, she’d be getting a bonus in her wages.
Towards the end of the main course Tierra returned to the table to ensure Marco was enjoying his meal. He beckoned her closer. She leant in, quiet words were exchanged. He got up and headed for the rest room. Moments later she followed.

Marco checked all four stalls, empty. He waited for the waitress to enter and indicated the stall furthest from the door.

When locked inside Marco immediately grabbed her and pushed his tongue between her lips. She grabbed his head with such enthusiasms that for a moment Marco was stunned. But only for a moment, hey, he was Marco de Marco woman adored him.

Frantic oral play was soon accompanied by hands exploring and groping. Her boobs were false, about a D, so what, real ones are over-rated he thought. Her hands were wrestling with his belt and flies. Suddenly he felt her fingers delving into his underwear. His cock was liberated from its fabric prison. He cursed the tight skirt she wore, sexy but making it impossible for him to reach inside and find her pussy. It tantalised him with the outline of her suspenders under his fingers.

Still locked in a kiss her fingers worked his member. She dropped to her knees and licked his swollen end. Marco was so turned on, you could have knocked nails into a four-by-two with it. He held her head as she gorged herself fully on his erect sex. Her fingernails dug into his exposed buttocks, pulling him into her.

Marco considered coming in the little cock whore’s throat, but instead he asked “You wanna fuck?”

“Oh, yes. So very, very much.”

Tierra hitched up her skirt, revealing her stocking tops and black suspenders. Marco licked his lips in anticipation, a sneer of a smile spreading across his face.

Tierra pulled her underwear to on side. Marco’s face drained of colour as he found himself staring down at an erection as big as his that had sprung from between Tierra’s legs.

“Oh yes. I do so want to fuck you Marco” smiled Tierra.

“Holy, fuck!” shouted Marco bending forward to pull up his boxers and trousers from around his ankles. His head perilously close to Tierra’s throbbing penis.

There was a flash from above them, then another. An enraged Marco, still fastening his trousers, emerged from the stall to be confronted by another flash from the paparazzi’s camera. A beautiful picture, Marco in the foreground with Tierra behind, cock waving from under her skirt.

Marco was transfixed, but only for a moment. “I’ll fucking kill you. You bastard.”

“You still want to fuck Mr De Marco?”, asked Tierra.

Free Wallpapers

Almost a year ago we loaded some wallpapers onto AlexSuze for you to download. When we rearranged the site they never got put back up. So, not before time here they are again. Well not quite, I’ve added a couple of new ones and reworked one of the old ones. I hope you like them.

Click on the corresponding thumbnail below, then save the full size image to your PC. (For Windows users you just left-click the large version of the image and then click “Save Picture As”).

  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 

LATE EDIT: Sorry about this but it appears that our Word Press anti-spam has been configured incorrectly for a while. This has been cured by our recent upgrade, except for the keyword list, so apologies for anyone whose comment may have been eaten by it. This came to light when one of our readers noticed that they had commented on the Viagra post “Out of the Blue” and the system ate their comment. Ooooops! So if you’ve commented recently, or your comment didn’t look quite right, erm, it was probably down to me.

Alex

Another One Bites The Dust!

Well, it’s been another busy week at work…at work…at work. The needle hasn’t stuck, I just enjoy saying “work” after being at home for the past 12 plus months and feeling useless, as if life was passing me by. Returning to work has been tiring and brain pummelling but so worth it. I now have more confidence than I did and a real sense of self worth.

Once again, thanks for all you letters of support over the past 2 weeks they really have helped me through it. 🙂 And as a reward for all my hard work upset stomachs and cold sweats I should see my bank balance rise from the dead in a few days. Yipeee!

Mid week I had to find a distraction for myself, it can’t be all work and and no flirt! I focused my attention on one of the blondes. 😉 I hadn’t noticed in the first few days on trying to impress just how nice the youngest girl there is.

Looking at her roots she is probably a mousy haired girl, who wears her long locks down and they hang to the base of her shoulder blades. She had gorgeous, melted chocolate brown eyes with a turn at the corner. Almost oriental. A medium frame, not too skinny and exactly my height (I measured up to her in the kitchen).

But best of all she has a wonderful pair of voluptuous boobs which she insists on covering up and should be putting out on display for all to admire. She puts me in the shade as far as size goes. 🙂 And I confess here right now that I would love to place my head between them for a few minutes one day.

I have taken to sneaking a quick look at her across the office when she bends to retrieve something from her bottom right drawer. A wonderful view is offered me as she bends over but it could be better. If the other blonde next to her should move I want first dibs on her desk! Lol

So, although I haven’t found the time or place to have a lunch time frig at least I have a little girly eye candy to focus on in the office. Speaking of which, I almost forgot to tell you the latest. There is an even better looking sales guy who lives in the south of the country who apparently is a ten out of ten in the looks, personality and intelligence department. He doesn’t come to the office often but I can’t wait to see him in the flesh.

The girls there swoon every time they talk about him. And I mean swoon! Pupils dilate, they shuffle on their chair and smile like whores. Lol I can’t wait to meet him. I hope they let me know when he is visiting so that I can dress appropriately. 😉

Other good news is that I had a mind blowing clitoral orgasm last night. Alex hasn’t lost his touch despite the fact I had taken over my own maintenance in that department. I would disappear off to the bedroom in the afternoon and make myself cum every day when I was at home. I actually missed not doing that, so when I had my spine arching, toe curling, whore moaning orgasm I was more than ready. Alex nearly came just watching me.

This weekend has been better, I have had a little more energy to participate in naughty foreplay and the way I see it, things can only get better!

Good Omens

I’m not a superstitious sort, but in times of adversity I think everyone looks for signs that things will be getting better soon. Don’t get me wrong, things are getting better for us now. Suze has her new job and I’m feeling, well OK. It’ll be a slow road back from where we are to where we were a few years ago, then eventually where we’d like to be. Vague enough for you? 🙂

OK, so what am I rambling on about? The sun’s shining this morning and I thought I’d tell you about the dream that I had last night and woke up with this morning.

The dream started with me waking up and looking out of the bedroom window. Drawing the curtains revealed a scene of winter splendour, just before dawn. A snowy tableau illuminated by a silvery-blue moon. The twenty centimetres of virgin snow was soon crossed by a number of anonymous white vans. Suddenly one van after another lost control on the bend outside our house and spun out of control. With physics-defying twists and rolls, one by one the houses either side of us were invaded by vans crashing through their front walls.

Cars parked at the side of the road were mangled. I watched as every house for a few doors in either direction was seriously damaged, except ours. As the carnage stopped I breathed a sigh of relief and put my arm around Suze who had come to watch the macabre spectacle. Then, and this is the really whacky bit, three robots, twenty metres high rose from behind the houses across our street. They were rather Manga in appearance with blue eyes and an array of fiendish looking weapons, like Transformers on acid.

One of the robots noticed us standing looking out of the window, I met his gaze and knew what came next. I grabbed Suze by the arm and dragged her to the landing. But there was no explosion, no shattering of glass. Instead we where in the garden, in late spring, planning how to extend the house and do the maintenance that has been pending for a couple of years.

So the dream turned on sixpence, a lucky sixpence I hope, and I was looking forward to a good year. I woke up calm and content, slid my arm around Suze and stroked her breasts, until I got up and wrote this.

My mood today, cautiously optimistic.

Katsumi – Part 4

I think a word of caution is in order here. This final part of the Katsumi story is not for everyone. It’s a bit strong, and I don’t mean sexually. The whole story has been about a troubled young woman and what she is capable of/feels compelled to do. I can’t spell it out much more specifically than that without spoiling the ending but if you’ve read Parts 1, 2 and 3 you’ll get a flavour of what I’m alluding to.

She had felt his eyes on the back of her neck for weeks. Every time he walked the floor of the department store Katsumi was aware of his gaze. When she stole a glance at him she knew she was not imagining it.

How lucky she was to have obtained the position here, her employment record was less than perfect, edited heavily to smooth over the more unpalatable incidents. Now she had this respectable job, quite well paid and stress free. Now he was taking an interest in her. He was about fifteen years her senior, handsome and successful. She had heard the other girls talking about him, how he had risen from mailroom boy, through the accounts department, to deputy store manager in only ten years, and now, due to the failing health of the venerable incumbent manager, was effectively running the business.

The speculation was rife. “He’s unmarried, at his age! He’s not, you know, gay, is he?” “No I heard he has a lot of girlfriends, but they don’t last long.” “Oh you mean like Shizuka from the second floor, she left just after that didn’t she …”

Early on Friday morning Katsumi was approached by her supervisor. “Mr Sato would like to see you in his office.”

“Me? Are you sure?”

“Yes, he has apparently been very impressed with your conduct.” The sarcasm in the supervisor’s voice was heavy and sour. He’d noticed her alright, Katsumi was a beautiful young thing, shapely, confident and about the age he liked. She’d be promoted or leave within the month. The supervisor had seen it before.

In the lift to the twelfth floor Katsumi’s mind raced. Was she going to be dismissed? Was Mr Sato looking for new talent? If so was that for the store or himself? She adjusted and re-adjusted her clothing until the lift doors opened.

She walked down the soft carpeted hall to the single desk occupied by a stern faced woman, so rigid in her posture Katsumi imagined she’d snap if she moved.

“Mr Sato asked to see me.”

“Yes. One moment.” The disapproval in her voice was like a bucket of ice water thrown in Katsumi’s face. “Mr Sato, the girl you sent for is here.” “Send her in”.

Without a word the woman raised a hand and gestured towards the door to her left. Katsumi knocked once and entered.

Sato stood, walked from behind his huge, almost empty desk and stood in front of Katsumi. He nodded a bow and offered his hand. Katsumi reciprocated and without thinking looked him straight in the eye, “Good morning Mr Sato, it is an honour to …”

“Jiro, please. Take a seat.”

Katsumi sat in one of two leather chairs in front of Sato’s desk, he took the other one.

“Katsumi, I may call you Katsumi?” It was phrased as a question but there was only one answer. “I’ve been watching you for a couple of weeks and I’d like to talk to you about your future within our business.”

“Of course Mr Sato …”

“Jiro.”

“Jiro. You’ll understand this is a little unexpected, I’ve only been here couple of months and …”

“I know, I know. Which is why I thought it best if we discuss this in a more informal setting.” His syrupy voice oozed over her, as did his stare, crawling over every part of her, shamelessly ogling every millimetre.

Sato handed Katsumi a card. “Here’s my address, I’ll let security know you’re expected. Please be there at eight o’clock prompt.” His tone indicated the meeting was over. They bowed politely and she left to take up her post at the front door. The rest of the morning was spent under the disparaging gaze of her supervisor, “Another young victim for Sato’s urges …”.

~~~

When an architect wants to impress they have a tendency to create a building that is either ultra-modern, or looks like a Greek temple. The designer of Sato’s apartment block had gone for the Greek look.

Katsumi waited patiently in the marble floored, colonnaded entrance lobby while the rather dim-witted but honest looking security guard studiously scanned the list of visitors on his computer monitor.

“Yes, Mr Sato has approved your visit. Please use elevator 2 and go straight to the penthouse suite.”

Of course it was the penthouse, Sato wouldn’t have anything less.

The ride to the penthouse was swift and smooth, the lift doors opened onto a small reception area, softly lit. As she walked out of the lift the door to the penthouse was opened by Sato. He was rather surprised at what he saw. Katsumi had chosen to wear a blonde wig, bobbed at the shoulder. She had on a long dark coat, open to reveal a short red strapless silk dress, finishing mid-thigh and red heels. Her lips were deep crimson.

“Please come in.”

Katsumi strode in, past the aghast Sato, taking ownership of the luxurious open plan apartment as she did so. Her blood rushed, excited by the moment, this was what she had always dreamed of, this was where she belonged. She scanned the penthouse, before turning round to smile at Sato.

“Can I take your coat?”

“That’s OK.” She declined, slipping the garment from her shoulders and folding it in one smooth movement. She laid it on the largest of three sofas.

“Drink?”

“Yes please Jiro. Single malt whisky.” She emphasised Jiro in a way that made him feel slightly uncomfortable for a moment. She noticed his unease and smiled, narrowing her eyes, cat-like.

He returned, hurriedly, with two lead crystal tumblers. Katsumi took one and raised it in the air between them, “To destiny.”

“Unusual choice.”, ventured Sato, “but nonetheless. To destiny.” Chink.

Katsumi took a mouthful of whisky. Her tongue played provocatively on her red-painted lips.

“I think you could do very well in retail, which is why I asked you here tonight …”

“Jiro, you asked me here tonight for one thing.”

“But!…”

“Oh shut up!” Katsumi interrupted. She grabbed Jiro by the back of his head and pressed their lips together hard. Her whisky coated tongue slid into his mouth and wrestled his into submission.

“Now we understand each other.”

In response he could only grin mutely.

Katsumi looked him in the eye. “I know what you’ve been thinking about, for weeks now. What I look like out of my suit. It’s true isn’t it? Well enjoy. She took another gulp of whisky, draining the glass and placed it on the marble coffee table. She turned her back to Sato, “Unzip me”. He complied, cock hardening to uncomfortable levels in his trousers.

She wriggled out of the dress and kicked it to one side, then with arms across her breasts turned to face him again. Sato stared at her chest. She smiled a self satisfied smile as he salivated at the though of what was hidden behind her arms. She revealed them slowly, proudly displaying their pert forms, topped with stiff brown nipples.

“Kneel.” And he did. She grabbed his head and pulled him onto a nipple, he sucked and lapped at the engorged button. After a minute or so she roughly directed him to its twin dragging him by the hair across her chest. She felt herself drunk, not with alcohol but with the power. She was not her father, subservient office fodder, devoted family man. She answered to nobody but herself. It aroused her, this control, the power, she was becoming moist as this little maggot did as he was told and suckled at her breast.

“Stand up!” He reluctantly detached from her breast and complied. “Now you undress.” He did, with the haste and inelegance of a college kid about to fuck for the first time. He was naked in front of her, clothes thrown in a heap on the floor in under a minute. She remained in her red heels and red lace panties, their crotch dark and moist from her excitement.

His cock swung in front of him, begging for attention. She dropped to her knees this time and took him into her mouth. He groaned and bucked in her mouth, hips pressing forward as soon as she was on him, wanting to fuck her mouth. But she stopped him, teasing, tasting his flowing pre-cum. She kept him at the edge until his legs almost gave way then led him to the largest sofa. He sat cock wet with her saliva laying on his stomach, half reclined next to her overcoat and eager for her pussy.

She mounted him, pulling the wet crotch of her knickers to one side and sliding onto his waiting cock. It felt good to ride him, cowgirl and in control. He simply lay there excited, eager, ready to cum, she could tell. She came first though, the excitement of the moment, the climax of a quest that had lasted five years fuelled the glowing yellow orgasm that filled her. She reached into the folds of her coat and felt the handle of her grandfather’s wakizashi.

She hesitated, remembering her father arriving home early one day and the conversation with her mother … ” … but how can they believe you embezzled that money? ” “Because Sato is a very talented accountant and a very cunning career minded young man. He also has no honour! He’s wanted my job since he stepped into accounts …”

Then the house had become almost silent, mother sobbing, father sitting in his study trying to meditate. Around midnight a scream, when her mother found him impaled on the blade which she now held. She unsheathed the sword, it rang as it left the scabbard, a true honest ring of vengeful steel. Sato was oblivious, eyes closed, smiling.

Katsumi watched the blade glint under the halogen lighting as she brought it down to rest against Sato’s throat.

His eyes snapped open. Fear filled them as he felt the razor-edged sword on his skin.

“You didn’t recognise me did you. Even the surname didn’t make you connect us?” Said Katsumi. “You last saw me at my father’s funeral.”

“Who?”

Katsumi’s lip curled into a snarl, “I am the daughter of Yasushi!”

“Oh! Oh, no, please!”

“Begging, that’s the end you deserve” She drew the sword swiftly across his throat, the full length of the blade piercing his jugular vein and windpipe. She felt the texture of the different structures in his neck as the steel sliced through them, watched as the layers of tissue peeled away. The blade flushed red as blood flowed freely along its length

Katsumi dismounted him as he thrashed around. Sato was gurgling, panicking as his life ebbed away. She looked at him, curiously, his head lolled to one side, nerves and muscles in his neck partially severed. His eyes pleaded with her, but received no mercy in return. The triumph filled her, revenge was indeed sweet. Fascinated she watched Sato’s final moments unmoving, sword held at her side, blood dripping from its tip onto the expensive carpet.

Sato soon became still, a pool of blood forming beneath him as it dripped from the sofa to the floor. She washed herself and the wakizashi in the shower, then dried the sword carefully on one of Sato’s soft fluffy towels, got dressed and left the apartment.

She wondered “What could compare to that thrill?”

The End

Tags: Katsumi,honour,honor,revenge,wakizashi,sexual dominance,BDSM,knife play,sword play

Out Of The Blue

Viagra was created to help those with erectile dysfunction. An inability to achieve an erection or sustain one. A truly distressing problem for a man. There are no accurate figures out there due to the sensitive nature of the problem to calculate just how many men suffer from this. It is believed that around 5% of 40 year old men and 25% of 65 year olds have this condition.

In brief. An erection occurs when the two chambers of spongy tissue, the corpora cavernosa and are relaxed allowing the blood to flow in and fill the spaces in the tissue. Creating pressure which makes the penis expand and harden.

The blood is trapped there by a membrane called the tunica albuginea which helps to sustain the erection. An erection isn’t maintained when the muscles contract to stop the blood flowing in to the penis and the outflow channels are opened.

The most common cause of erectile dysfunction is tissue damage to the nerves, arteries, muscles or fibrous tissue.
This can be due to disease or conditions like diabetes, kidney disease, chronic alcoholism, MS and cardiovascular disease. Which make up 70% of the cases reported.

It can also be a side effect of taking medications such as blood pressure drugs, antihistamines, antidepressants and tranquillisers. So you can see why so many people are eager to obtain this little blue pill.

However experts believe that up to 20% of cases arise from stress, anxiety, guilt, low self-esteem and fear of sexual failure. Smoking has also been associated with the problem as it affects the blood flow.

Psychotherapy can help certain individuals and there are alternative methods which others can turn to.
One of those is the vacuum device, which can be used to encourage erections. They work on the principal that placing the penis within a vacuum will draw the blood in to it. Usually they consist of a plastic cylinder in which the penis is placed. A pump is then used to extract the air around the penis. Once an erection is achieved an elastic band is placed at the base of the penis to help maintain the erection.

Other methods include, penile injection which was more common before the advent of Viagra in 1999 and surgery to introduce implanted devices to aid erection, including bladders which can be inflated with pressurised fluid.

What prompted me to write this post was the advent of over the counter sales of Viagra at Boots chemists in the UK on Valentines Day of all days. Now men between the age of 30 and 65 will be able to buy 4 Viagra pills for £50 following a consultation with the pharmacist.

This in itself is a good move, taking the back street drug vendor out of the loop, ensuring that the guy undergoes an hour long consultation, including blood pressure, blood sugar and cholesterol checks. This will also allow Boots to identify people who should be receiving this drug free from their GP on medical grounds.

I must admit this seems to be a move in the right direction but at the same time it does make me worried that an increasing number of men are turning to the drug as a recreational one. Young men are obtaining and using the drug to have all night sexual prowess and this is worrying because a long term side effect of using it can be erectile dysfuction.

It reminds me very much of the pain killer addiction stories I have read. Where pain killers are taken to relieve headaches but at the same time cause medication over-use headaches, therefore creating a vicious circle.

On a more positive note, Viagra was used to save a baby’s life. Here is the link to the incredible story of Lewis Goodfellow, born at just 24 weeks with a failing lung and whose life was saved by Viagra.

Tags: viagra,medication over use headache,medication overuse headache,erection,erectile disfunction,corpora cavernosa,tunica albuginea,impotence

Marco

This story was inspired by a post by Anastasia. I first published it last year, due to feeling a little out of sorts today I thought I’d run it again. It fits in with my current uncharacteristic celebrity watching.

The room was almost dark. The mood lighting was turned as low as it would go, the rest of the illumination was provided by the screen of the laptop.

Marco was hunched over the keyboard, the normally glowing health of the skin of his face transformed into a pale blue-white death mask by the light from the LCD. He was sitting in a hotel suite at the writing desk. His fingers rapped his user name and password into the site’s login page.

Which of our girls would you like to play with today Starman?

The mouse pointer hovered above “Latin Beauties” before being drawn to “Barely Legal Teens”. Click.

New today ! “Clara”. Click.

A face appeared in a window. Too close to the webcam, out of focus. The image smeared and pixelated until it’s owner, a youthful platinum blonde in a pink bikini, settled on the bed a few feet from the camera.

“Hi …”, she peered at the monitor of her PC, ” … Starman. How are you today?”

Horny.

“Oh good, cos Clara’s horny too”. She raised a finger to her lip and pouted, her mouth opened slightly. She gave him her best doe-eyed stare. “What shall I do today Starman?”.

Take off your bikini.

Clara knelt on the bed and reached round to her back to remove the bikini. The straps loosened as the clasp was released. She shrugged the garment forward, letting it slide over her arms and onto the bed.

Natural?

“Of course”, smiled Clara. She grasped her breasts and kneeded them. Leaning towards the camera as if to proffer them to her audience she tweaked the nipples. “Ooooh, that feels so good.”

Take off the rest of the bikini.

She rolled onto her back and lifted her legs. Fingers hooked into the sides of her bikini and slid it down and over her feet. Then, she sent it flying towards the webcam with a flick of her wrist.

Play with yourself.

She rolled onto her side, one hand on her breast the other delving towards her slit. Clara kept her legs together and pushed her middle finger across her clitoris. “Ah, ah yes”.

Marco watched her for a few moments, stroking his erect cock. He licked his lips rapaciously consuming the jerky image on his screen. His breathing was quick and uneven, pupils wide.

He unsteadily typed with his free hand

Dil;do-

Clara reached on to the bedside table to pick up a nine inch monster. She played it along her lips the massive plastic glans dwarfing her petite mouth. He tongue flicked around the member leaving it glistening with her saliva. She dragged it down her body, between her breasts and across her mons.

Push it in

She did, slowly, parting her labia, spreading her legs to accommodate the outsize cock. “Mmmmmh!” she murmered, “Ooooh”.

Marco watched the whole nine inches disappear inside her.

Fuck yourself

Marco’s hand worked his cock. He spat on the end while his frantic fist pumped. But he needed more.

Pull it out

Good girl

Now, up your ass

“I’m sorry Starman I don’t do that”, purred Clara, “Would you like to see how wet you’ve made me?”

Fuck yourself up the ass!

Clara’s tone changed from a purr to matter-of-fact, with teeth. “I’m sorry “Starman” but our terms and conditions state that it is at the performer’s discretion which acts we will or will not perform. ” She looked straight at the camera, “And I’m not putting that up my ass.”

Listen you bitch don’t you know who I am?

“Of course I do …”, said kitten Clara softly.

In that case do as you’re told or I’ll have you fired!

” … you’re Starman, account number K6709-1. And if you don’t drop the attitude I’ll have your subscription terminated.” Her piercing eyes were feline slits.

You fucking bitch, I’ll …

… * Session terminated by host * …

Marco swept the laptop across the desk. It landed on the floor with a thud and ominous cracking sound. He picked up the phone and dialled room service.

“I need some company.”

“Com-pan-ee. Yes that’s right, around twenty, brunette … hmm and make sure she doesn’t have an attitude problem.”

The Journey #1

I set out a few months ago to give a real voice to some of the sexual fetishes and predilections out there. Some manifestations of sexuality are very well represented both in commercial sites and amateur blogs. Others, like the incorporation of inflatables into sexual play are a hardly ever talked about.

I have talked about “Looners” before, but from the standpoint of an outsider. The piece below was not written by me, but by a man whose affinity with inflatables could not be expressed better than in his own words. He does not use the term “Looner” in relations to himself, and I can relate to that, each of us has certain sexual leanings and to create a label for any individual or group is a little too easy and misguiding. I hope you enjoy this guest post by “Infl8orama”:

I have heard that fetishes and kinks come from powerful childhood memories (usually positive, surprisingly enough). My experience with my fetish for inflatables feels consistent with that idea.

Living in Florida most of my life, we were never far from a beach or a swimming pool. As such, we always had inflatables, especially beach balls and pool floats, in the house somewhere. I wasn’t very old before I realized how good it felt to inflate, hug, and bounce on them.

The first “dry” orgasm I remember, however, did come from a mylar
balloon when I was 7 or 8, but most of the time, whenever I found myself alone with a vinyl inflatable, I would take it for a ride. By the time puberty arrived, I knew what was happening when I rubbed against my toys, even if I felt a little guilty about it.

As I grew older, I began to fear that I was the only person who felt the way I do about inflatables; certainly I was the only one who could get an erection just by touching or looking at a pool float—especially if a woman was inflating it or sitting on it.

Then came the Internet, and suddenly I realized that I was not alone,
and that what I had was just a fetish—as simple as the fetish some have for rubber, certain fabrics, feet, or what have you. Moreover, I realized that as fetishes go, mine is a surprisingly clean and harmless one. My toys are easy to clean, and playing with them doesn’t hurt me or anyone else.

As to what turns me on about inflatables, I think it’s a number of
factors. Certainly the shape and feel of the toys against my body (not just my penis, but that’s certainly a good feeling); the way inflatables grow as you blow or pump them up; the way women look while they’re inflating them; and their inherent vulnerability (a bit like virginity) are all major aspects of my appreciation and enjoyment.

I never brought up inflatables in my relationships with women until my last girlfriend. Something about our chemistry together made me feel as if I could bring up my kink with her…and my hunch proved correct. We have been married for five years! She is very supportive, and as long as I don’t insist on it, enjoys bringing aspects of my love of blow-up toys into our sex life. The main reason we were able to incorporate my fetish into our bedtime play is that I make it clear that she is still my partner, and therefore still the most important part of the relationship. We talk and listen freely in bed, and that has made all the difference.
Infl8orama

If you have an aspect of sexuality that you feel is misunderstood or under-represented drop me an email suze@alexsuze.com. I’d love to work with you on an article about it, or as in this post give you an opportunity to express yourself here. What I want to do this to give everyone a chance to express themselves, even if, like Infl8orama, you don’t have a blog of your own.

Image Source: inflates.yiff.ru Please Note, AlexSuze.com is not reposnsible for the content of external websites. The site requires you to register but does not charge for the images it carries.

Tags: inflatables,inflatable fetish,poppers,looner,looners

Losing It?

No not me, Britney Spears. We don’t normally comment on the news, too much naughtiness about for that to get a look in, but sometimes a story just has to be remarked upon.

What is the poor girl up to? It doesn’t take a psychologist to realise she’s in need of some help and support right now. Sadly as with many celebrities she’ll probably not find it amongst her current circle of friends. If the gossip columns are to be believed those friends include Paris Hilton and the partying glitterati who have been keeping Britney from returning to what we know and often love (or at lest enjoy) her for, making pop records.

I’m not a huge Britney fan, in fact I think she has produced some utter bilge. FYI my favourite song to date was “Toxic”, penned by Cathy Dennis, perfect song for her at the time and a very provocative video.

Anyway, back to my point. Yes I do have one. Everyone in the entire world knows Princess Britney has been a little lost for a couple of years, and my heart goes out to her, it truly does. I know everyone calls her trailer trash, and that might be true, but she’s a working mother with two kids to support and her relationships, if they can be called that, seemed destined to fail.

Boy does she pick em though. Everyone in the entire world seemed to recognise K-Fed as an escapee from the band in the Muppet Show. No strike that Dr Teeth’s band was entertaining and talented.

The SMS dumping of the hapless Kevin was a classic piece of tabloid fodder, ready made and shrink wrapped to become part of the Britney legend.

The problem with the rich and powerful is two-fold. Firstly they tend to be surrounded by friends/advisors/hangers-on/parasitical freeloaders (delete as applicable) who have agendas of their own. The second is that if they do go off the rails, they have the resources to go waaaayyy of the rails.

Consider this. If you or I go on a bender we get drunk, fall down, throw up and either crawl home to bed or have our friends/the local constabulary drag us off. To repeat that the next night and the next … you’d run out of money and/or lose your job, thus limiting the scope of your excess. When you’re rich and famous you can really trash your career, relationships and reputation by a constant string of drink, drugs or simply hedonistic binges.

I for one hopes that Britney gets some real friends around her and that she has access to someone she can trust, someone who has her interests at heart. She needs guidance and celebrity friendships, from this side of the looking glass at least, are the sort that simply reinforces this sort of nihilistic behaviour.

Tags: Britney Spears,Kevin federline,Paris Hilton,Muppet Show, Doctor Teeth,Celebrity Friends,Cathy Dennis

My First Anal, well almost…

Despite being tired after my first week at work, I just couldn’t say no to having little nephew over for the night on Friday. This did set back our sex schedule, Saturday afternoon sex is so good but we had to save it until Saturday night. 🙂

Why is it you feel so guilty fucking in the next room to a child? Even when the child is fast asleep and not your own. Strange, but it didn’t put either of us off. Lol As soon as he had gone to sleep we climbed the stairs to the bedroom, turned on the DVD player and watched our latest purchase from the sex shop.

We were both tired and Alex spooned behind me to watch the MMF action (my favourite at the moment) 😉 He was cupping my breasts and kissing my neck whilst I just lay there enjoying the visuals and his attention.

It wasn’t long before he started to rub his groin against my buttocks. Then the rubbing became grinding and I started to become wet and my nipples hard. Alex took my right nipple between his fingers and began to firmly roll it between his fingers. He knows I love that! 😉 I groaned my appreciation and pushed my buttocks firmly against his groin, which now secreted something long and hard, which was pushing against me.

Alex started to bite my ear and shivers ran down my spine. He whispered in my ear, “I want to fuck you now”. He didn’t receive any resistance from me, I rolled over on to my back and he leaned over me to kiss me deeply, pushing his tongue in to my mouth with force. I could now see that he was in a dominant mood and I would be getting some hard fucking soon.

“Roll over on to your knees, let me see your pussy”, he demanded. I raised myself to my knees, placing my hands on the pillows and pushing my ass towards him as an offering. I could feel the heat of his breath as he lowered his torso until his head was next to my ass.

I giggled with delight as he ran his tongue up my slit from front to back and then he licked around my anus. Not something I had really enjoyed before but I seemed to be super receptive. A couple of circles around my tight arsehole and a quick jab from his tongue as he pushed against my sphincter and I confess it felt really nice.

Again I let him know just how much I appreciated his anal attentions. “Yes, I…oooh, that feels good”, escaped my lips. “You want more?” he asked and I responded that it felt good. He continued to lap at my lips followed by a quick lick between my buttocks and then he taped my right inner thigh with his hand and I parted my legs in readiness for his entry.

By now I was extremely wet and he ran his hand between my legs and wet the tip of his erect cock with my juices. He then moved forward as I pushed my ass high in to the air to ease his entry. As he pushed beyond my labia and inside me I could feel my pussy muscles tighten, almost trying to pull him further in to me. He felt good, he felt big…

He pushed his dick full in to me and I felt his balls ground on my pussy. I let out a slight yelp as he pushed my cervix back to accommodate him. Then he began the slow withdrawal before plunging back in to me. I must have stretched to accommodate him because I was now taking his full length quite easily as he fucked me harder and harder. 😉 Jackhammering in to my swollen pussy.

I was in pure ecstasy, wanting, no needing this action all week. My mind began to wonder off to other destinations as he fucked me all the way to heaven. His thrust began to abate and I felt a gentle push inside my anus, it was so smooth and unhindered. My ass must have been slightly open and pouting as his entry was gentle and very, very nice. I never thought I would here myself say that I actually liked to have a my ass finger fucked but this felt far better than I imagined.

Every inward thrust of his cock was now being matched by one from his finger. It felt natural, warm, comforting and above all extremely arousing. I could tell that Alex was enjoying doing this to me as much as I was, his breathing was heavy and I was moaning my delight quite loudly. At one point I became aware of the volume of my and pushed my head in to the pillow, which made him fuck me all the more.

I lost count of how many orgasmic waves hit the shore. It seemed too many to count even if I wanted to. I could sense that Alex was getting close and he withdrew his finger from my sphincter as he came inside me. I could feel him tremble with the power of his orgasm. Then with a final shiver he lay against my back and kissed my left shoulder. My pussy was so swollen, I could feel it pulsing with blood as his cock slipped out of me.

As Alex settled beside me with his arm around me thought turned to future anal play but this time with me being the recipient…

Tags: anal,anal sex,dominance,sexual domination

I Survived!

Joke P45Click here for full size view of this image.

I made it to the weekend relatively unscathed but OMG I’m so brain frazzled and tired. Having been given a quite gruelling training and familiarisation programme every day last week my head feels fit to burst.

The one thing which saved me when I felt really low at certain parts this week were the people, they are so friendly and supportive. And believe me I have been to hell and back on the confidence front. My stomach was churning and doing cartwheels every morning when the alarm went off and my sleep went completely to the wall, consequently, this weekend was much needed before I collapsed with exhaustion.

I can’t begin to convey the soup of emotions which I was swimming in, one moment I felt content that my level of understanding was increasing and therefore me knowledge and then the next, self doubt and the “will I ever be capable of doing this job?”. My sympathies go out to anyone else out there who has just started a new job and taking the emotional rollercoaster trip that I have been on.

My daily fiddles have gone by the wayside too. At lunchtime I have been so wound up and pre-occupied that I wasn’t in the mood to finger fuck or flick my clit. The swarthy sales guy is only in the office one day a week and he is on a different floor to the one I’m working on, so I won’t be getting the eye candy which would have encouraged me to go off and rub one out. 🙁

There may be salvation on the horizon though. My workplace is in the industrial area of the town and the local *”greasy spoon” is only a short drive down the road and is frequented by truck drivers, men in overalls from the workshops and mechanics. I have been in every day last week to check out the custom. All I can report at this moment is that I haven’t seen any oily, muscular hunks in there yet but I am developing a positive attitude. 🙂

I’m not sure if the breadcakes are a metaphor for the average prowess of their manly customers but they measure about the same size round as a cloth cap. Lol I have been encountering problems fitting them in to my mouth. 😉

I’ve been so tired in the evening, not sleepy but weary that foreplay has all but been ignored this week by me. Instead I opted for the quick hard fuck with no trimmings, just deep and dirty. Alex I promise as soon as I get my energy levels replenished I will be going down on you like a whore.

We had the added workload of looking after little nephew over night Friday, and all day today, which sapped the last bit of my strength. I love him to pieces but he is like a dynamo and I was flagging. Maybe on Sunday we will both get some quality time together before I return to work Monday. Keep your fingers crossed for me.

*Greasy spoon refers to a non-salubrious café where the cliental are usually truckers or manual labourers, a little rough and ready and quite often the best places to eat for a hearty inexpensive meal.

Drive 5

I drove into work this morning as the sun was appearing over the horizon. The sky was dotted with light cloud, the sunrise illuminated the clouds on the horizon with a silver-gilt glow that grew more intensely yellow and gold as I drove down the dual carriageway towards my client’s offices.

It’s the little things that often inspire me, and that sunrise, or more specifically the beauty of it really moved me. If I’d captured the image on camera you’d have sworn it had been filtered, processed and photoshopped to hell. It was that exquisite. It silhouetted a row of electricity pylons, striding across the ridgeline, but even their intrusive industrial forms couldn’t detract from the wonderful natural spectacle.

The nature of the light, its smooth yellow-white silky texture, reminded me of spring sunrises in the Mediterranean that only hold that colour for a few brief moments, before the intensity of the sun begins to warm the earth with a vigour that England only experiences occasionally. The light lasted longer than it would in the Med and the outside temperature was most definitely British, above freezing, but biting nonetheless.

Once moved, my mind was lodged in a field on a sunny Tuscan hillside and even now, at lunchtime, no amount of cold wind and increasingly cloudy skies will dislodge it.

Normally a “Drive” story would be about someone I had seen and a scenario I had built from observing them during my daily commute. Today is different, today it’s about me. And because it’s about me it’s about Suzanne too, because we are two halves of the same whole, indivisible.

To be warmed by the warm sun closer to the equator while lying next to Suze is something that I dearly wish I could make happen. Alas finances will not allow it at present so this little fantasy will have to suffice.

I want us to be staying in a secluded farmhouse, not shared with others, just the two of us. I want to spend a couple of weeks alone with Suze, except for occasional visits to the local village (which will of course be charming and picturesque) for provisions. It would be surrounded by olive trees and possible vines, ridiculously clichéd but indulge me here. The cool nights would be spent by a wood-burning stove huddled under blankets. The days would be spent walking, talking, taking in he scenery and making love. Did I mention we’d be doing that under the blankets next to the log-burner at night too? I think you probably guessed :).

Anyway, I have this picture, a little scene of us on the hillside, nothing but the occasional highly stylish bird to disturb us. Yes even the birds have Armani feathers in my Italy and they fly to a Vivaldi soundtrack. Then there’s the picnic, the highlight being olives for me, sadly Suze doesn’t do olives but I make up for it eating far too many. I prefer Greek olives, but Italian are a close second, so I grit my teeth and put up with eating my second favourite olives in the entire world and doing my best to help the local vintners cash flow.

Suze is wearing a cotton summer dress, the sort that makes an already feminine woman like Suze jaw-droppingly, knee-tremblingly, breathtakingly sexy. You know what I mean,you turn away because you realise you’re staring, only to find your gaze drawn back like a galaxy to a black hole. When you’ve looked once, every moment that goes by makes it more difficult to look away because like a singularity she slowly draws you in and as part of you becomes part of her the attraction becomes stronger. And there’s an event horizon, that point beyond which even by expending an infinite amount of energy you could not escape from your fate of becoming one with her without annihilating yourself in a final burst of light1

Or is that just the way I feel about Suze.

Anyway, we’re savouring our wine as the sun makes its way from its zenith to the horizon and in a slow languorous way we begin to touch. It’s gentle, loving at first, the comfortable touches of two people with total trust in one another. When our hands stray to sensitive, sensual regions it’s with the surety of a couple who have seen, smelt, touched and tasted every millimetre of the other’s body. We have no secrets from each other but that doesn’t mean the thrill isn’t as intense as the first time. It’s just different, instead of the adrenalin of a first encounter the endorphins flow, fuelled by the memories of innumerable encounters over the years we have together.

In our own time we begin to expose our flesh to the warm air and golden sun. There’s a delightful thrill about unfastening your lovers clothes, for you and for them. The unbuttoning of a shirt, the unfastening of a clasp, sliding the waistband of a skirt, dress or even jeans over a woman’s hips. I know that a woman has wider hips for the very practical purpose of childbirth but at times like this you could almost imagine that they were that wide to ensure you get that wiggle as a woman slides out of her clothes. Yes, I know it’s actually the hard-wired into men, broader hips means a female more suited to childbirth, but knowing that doesn’t make shapely hips less attractive. Size zero, boy-like models, no thank you!

I’m naked now on my haunches, she’s sat beside me still wearing her bra and briefs. CFNM? Almost and not for long anyway, because with a well-practiced one-handed action I unclip her bra. There’s another little move, this one is one that mother nature didn’t build into woman, the bra wiggle as she shrugs it from her shoulders and uncovers her beautiful breasts.

She’s a little breathless, we don’t have this time at home, it never takes this long even in our most laid-back moments. We don’t rush sex, unless there’s a sudden danger of discovery, but this has gone on for hours, the slow build up to what we both want. I’m proud and she’s moist, I feel it as I slip the gusset of her briefs to one side and gently explore the pouting folds of her labia.

She takes me in her hand and slides the skin up and down my shaft, rubbing the end of my cock with her thumb, spreading the pre-cum around it. We’re both ready and while we could take even longer, postpone the moment, we both need it now.

She rolls onto her stomach and slides her knees under her stomach, head to one side, cheek resting on the grass, presenting her pussy to me. I pull her briefs to one side and rest the tip of my cock on her opening. I pause a moment, considering if this isn’t too normal, doggy? It isn’t, it’s what we both need, a deep hard fuck.

I slide in and stop only when I’m pressed against her buttocks, cock buried inside her. Like the foreplay I take it slow, but not that slow, I can feel she is cumming only a few moments after I enter her. She’s been ready for so long. I let that orgasm subside, not attempting to prolong it by angling for her G-Spot with my cock. Her moans tell me she’s not disappointed by this.

Then I build up the pace and stimulation, grasping her waist and thrusting ever harder, no complaints from her. I change my rhythm just slightly and the angle a fraction. I feel it building again, and with hers my orgasm approaches too. At first the whisper of iron wheels on rails miles away, but an express approaching that bursts forth in a roaring ejaculation. I growl and she wails as I pump my issue inside her. She slides forward and I slide on top of her, still inside her, pinning her to the ground. Ever so gently biting her neck.

1: Yes electromagnetic radiation can escape from a black hole just from inside the event horizon because photons are quantum in nature and can therefore exist both inside and outside the event horizon at the same time. I believe that was proven by Stephen Hawking in his paper “Quantum Phenomena, Gravity Wells and why Suzanne’s Boobs Are So Suckable” 1996. But hey you wanted to hear about boobies not the uncertainty principle, right?

Katsumi – Part 3

When Eri left later that morning she took a piece of Katsumi with her. Katsumi had only ever let one other person do that to her and she’d paid the price for it.

They had both been 16. Miho had met Katsumi a week after her father had “left”. Katsumi had spent much of her time out of the house, already feeling isolated from her mother, her father’s departure had increased her need for solitude. She sought out quiet spaces, in her head and if such a thing were possible, in the heaving metropolis.

It was on one of her many directionless walks that Miho had caught her eye. She had stopped on the pavement, unsure of which direction to turn. Home? Not yet her mother’s solemn face made her feel uncomfortable. Where too next? She scanned the streets heading off left, right and centre. Her gaze alighted on a smiling Miho. Katsumi felt her previously sullen expression break into a weak smile. Despite herself she exchanged greetings.

Neither of them looking back could explain why they had begun to talk. They were complete strangers, Katsumi miles from home. They even attended different schools. It made no difference, within days they were firm friends, soul mates whose personalities complemented each other perfectly. Katsumi was forthright, impulsive, passionate, meticulous. Miho reserved, quiet and a little naïve. But there was passion in Miho, a passion that she shared with Katsumi a month after they first met.

Katsumi had been invited to Miho’s parents house, that was a revelation in itself, a family rich enough to buy a house. Katsumi and her mother had already been forced to move to a smaller apartment, so stepping into the traditional stone and timber home inhabited by Miho’s family felt like travelling to a different universe. Miho’s parents were polite to her but distant. She got the feeling that she was not the sort of friend they would have liked for their daughter, because of her address and the conduct of Katsumi’s father.

They spent the night in the summerhouse at the bottom of a garden that would have swallowed a whole apartment block. Miho’s parents obviously assumed the two girls would sleep apart

The lights in the summerhouse were extinguished almost as soon as Miho’s parents had bid them goodnight and retreated to the main house. Miho slid under the sheet next to Katsumi. The light from the full moon filtered in through the skylight turning the room silver and grey. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to hold each other, they were friends after all. Then a kiss, it was a sign of affection, at first.

Then something happened, neither could tell who made the first move to undress, but one followed the other’s lead and soon they were naked next to each other. Their hard nipples were pressed against soft flesh and kisses, at first innocent, soon became deep and intoxicating.

The rising excitement was accompanied by an intense sexual aroma as they both felt a rush unlike anything they had attained in the privacy of their bedrooms fantasising about the latest boy band. Their hands began to explore, Miho taking the lead as the hidden passion inside was released. Katsumi was almost shocked as Miho cupped her breasts, squeezing them gently and sucked each erect nipple in turn, back and forth, until they tingled.

Miho then slid a hand down to the moist furrow between Katsumi’s legs and gently rubbed her engorged clitoris. She brought the fingers back to her face where they both savoured the exquisite essence of femininity with which they were now coated. Katsumi knew what she wanted to do, needed to do. She pushed Miho onto her back and dropped her head to kiss her stomach. Miho writhed as Katsumi’s tongue traced a delicate and inexorable path to her pussy.

It was a first time for both of them, with a partner of any sex. It seemed to natural and a little innocent, yet these were two sixteen year old girls, hormones racing passion flowing in their minds and between their legs. They knew what this meant and yet they had no regrets, whatever anyone else might think of them.

Katsumi swung her leg over Miho’s head and positioned herself to allow Miho easy access to her expectant labia. Katsumi began to lick Miho’s clitoris, flicking it with her tongue and sucking gently. Miho reciprocated, moaning from the joyous sensation between her own legs and the delicious flavour of Katsumi’s wet pussy. They were unhurried and spent hours exploring each other that night. They formed a mass of ghostly white limbs and torsos in the silvery moonlight, undulating and moving flesh on flesh.

Around two in the morning Katsumi slid two fingers inside Miho for the first time. Miho’s gentle whimpers of pleasure were silenced. The penetration of the place where no fingers but her own had been before seemed to change her. Miho pushed herself down onto Katsumi’s hand, far harder then Katsumi would have dared. Miho gasped with the intensity of the sensation, for an instant turning pleasure to pain. Katsumi withdrew her fingers slightly and began to move around inside Miho.

They both pulled themselves up into a squatting position, Miho sliding two fingers inside Katsumi’s hot snatch. The next ten minutes saw each building to their first orgasm together as they discovered what the other enjoyed and drew on the other’s obvious arousal. They came seconds apart and leant against one another for support hands and pussies drenched in glistening fluid.

~~~

Their relationship grew more intense over the next few weeks, they became inseparable. Only school and the impracticality of staying at each other’s houses more often than they were allowed meant they spent any time apart at all.

But it was not to last, Miho’s mother began to look at them in a peculiar way when she saw them holding hands. Miho sensed it too and remarked on the rising tension whenever she announced she was going out to meet Katsumi. Then one day the phone call Katsumi dreaded was taken by her mother.

“Miho’s mother says that it would be best if Miho and you did not see each other again.”

“Why? We L… we’re best friends.” Katsumi had protested.

“Because we are your parents and know what is best.”

And that was the end of it. Katsumi never saw Miho again, not in the flesh at least. She pined for weeks and was inconsolable, though her mother seemed to regard Katsumi’s ordeal as character building. Or perhaps a punishment for not being so distraught as her when Katsumi’s father died.

The last image of Miho in Katsumi’s head was from the photograph under the newspaper headline, “Tokyo Industrialist and Wife found Murdered”. ” … their daughter, Miho Hayashi, is being held by police …”.

Tags: kosupure, cosplay, katsumi, lesbian

Update From A Working Girl … Not That Kind, Honestly!

I would like to thank everyone who has emailed me their best wishes and enquired how I am coping with my return to work over the past few days. It is much appreciated that you all care so much and makes me feel quite humble. *blush*

Well, I’m absolutely buggered! I have spent the last couple of days having information fed to me from every angle and my head feels as if it is about to explode. The people all seem to be genuinely friendly and helpful and that helps make your working day more pleasant.

Presently I am being drip fed a diet of job skills I will require for my daily responsibilities coupled with a tour of all the departments and an overview of what they do. This is a really good way to introduce a new comer to the role but it makes for one hell of a lot of information processing and my processor is feeling tired.

My only concern at the moment is the number of tasks I am being given as part of my position and they seem to be growing daily. That worries me because it’s the reason I quit my last job. What started as a straightforward job mutated in to me being a “jack of all trades”. With the best will in the world you can’t be everything to everyone.

That said they do appear to be understanding so maybe I am being a little too quick to form an opinion. I do hope I am wrong as I like the company and the people and could see myself really settling there.

The girls I am working directly with seem to have a good sense of humour and two of them are single and form what I discovered today quite randy. So, I should fit in to the department well. 😉 One of them had made an appointment to see a rep from an office supplies company and when she came back she was gushing and I mean gushing. Lol

He had almost charmed the pants off her. She openly admitted to flirting with him and we all complained that she should have shouted for us to go and have a look. 🙂 I think her intention was to keep him all for herself.

Oh whilst I’m on the subject of flirting. Don’t tell Alex but the swarthy guy who I saw briefly on my last visit is even nicer close up. He was formally introduced to me today and he is quite a catch. I may have to dig out some of my low cut tops when I have been there a little longer. Don’t want to do it too soon or they may think I’m a bit of a tease. 😉

There I go again! Even though I am absolutely knackered I can still turn my thoughts to naughtiness.

Vibrating Butt Plug With Wireless Remote


Vibrating Butt Plug With Wireless Remote.

To any man who hasn’t tried anal play I would say, try it. I’ve never tried it on my own, only with Suze, and this does add to the excitement for both participants. Maybe it’s because it’s traditionally been a taboo subject, but the whole thought of it is a turn-on for me. When I’m in the right frame of mind.

We started with Suze probing me with a well lubed finger, then on to a small vibe. We have a jelly butt plug too. All of these have their advantages and disadvantages, but the latest toy from our supplier has to be the best.

The vibrating butt plug combines the vibro-stimulation of the small vibrator, with the larger diameter of a butt plug and a “neck” to help hold it in. The bonus of remote means there’s a fun element to its use that adds to the relaxation, a vital part of anal play.

I was initially a little disappointed at the size of the plug. It’s diameter is only a little greater that the small vibe Suze occasionally uses on me. But the vibration more than makes up for that.

As I felt her slide the tip of the toy into my anus (vibe off at this point) I was already becoming aroused. It’s really exciting to try out a new toy and when I’m in the right mood for anal play the thought of her sliding something inside has me grinning from ear to ear.

Because of its smaller size the plug on its own would be useful for someone wanting to experiment with anal penetration for the first time. The sensation of its soft surface probing me gives me a thrill. Because of the plug’s modest size it slid in with little fuss, yet I could feel it inside me. For those of you who haven’t tried anal toys of this sort it’s at first and unusual feeling that I for one quickly became used to. It puts a lump in my throat, as well as somewhere else. 🙂

Anyway, back to the testing. When Suze had slid the plug fully inside me I felt rather content in a sexually expectant sort of way. When I’m in this position she moves her fingers gently over the taught skin of my buttocks. I find this a most sensual experience as her nails trace pathways from my lower back, across my butt and delve into my inner thighs and scrotum.

Suze then tried experimenting with the remote. The initial burst of the vibe was wonderful, it sent vibrations across my perineum and into my taught balls and scrotum. After a few seconds though you seem to become desensitised to the stimulation. It’s still pleasant, but not as intense. Suze found that turning the device on and off had the best effect.

It’s not the most powerful vibe either, which I was a little disappointed about at first. Because of its smaller size and lower power than other models I did not get the intense prostate stimulation I was expecting.

However, as I said at the very beginning, I have to be in the right mood for anal play. Sometimes I don’t fancy it at all, sometimes I prefer gentle to full-on and this was one of those times so the toy and the mood coincided and made for an extremely pleasurable experience for both of us.

The interaction between us as Suze controlled the insertion and vibration of the plug was new and very satisfying for both of us. My only real disappointment was that the plug would not stay in as I moved position. I have a tight anal sphincter, but even so I was not able to fuck Suze with the plug in place. It just popped out.

So in summary:

Pros

A great anal toy for beginners soft and not too big, easy to insert

The extra benefit of vibration for little more than you’d pay for a standard, non-vibe plug.

Remote control! Oh the fun you’ll have with this, as will your play partner.

Cons

Unless you’ve got a sphincter of spring steel this toy will not stay in place as you move around. So stay were you are and let your partner tease you as Suze did to me.

Tags: sex toy review, anal,anal play, anal stimulation,butt plug,anal vibrator

Wish…bone!

I know it’s a strange title for a post but it will become apparent why I have named it so.

Well, I wished for snow and we got it. Only problem is there isn’t quite enough of it to keep Alex from being able to go to work. 🙁 It’s bloody cold though and really quite grey and miserable, it’s all I can do to keep myself in the right mood to masturbate. Lol

Last night was particularly cold so we fucked within the warm confines of the bed. The Cupids Couch looked kind of neglected in the corner. Not quite the weather for out of bed on rubber screwing. Lol

In fact I don’t know why I ever fantasised about shagging in the snow. I put on my flipflops and ventured out on to the back garden around 11pm to see just how cold it was. How silly is that? It was bloody freezing and I came straight back in again. No, screwing in the snow is a lovely thought but not a fantasy I will be making come true real soon. 🙂

Instead I went back up to bed where Alex was waiting. He’s not stupid, he knew there was no way I would go through with the outdoor copulation. It wasn’t long before he was standing to attention again, it must have been the sight of my erect nipples under my nightshirt.

I was still cold from my venturing outside and turned on to my front to partake in a little doggy action. It was so cold that I pulled Alex’s pillow under me and wrapped my arms around it. Then I crouched low and hugged the pillow tight. Alex moved in towards my buttocks and I pushed my knees out to the sides allowing myself to lay flat on the pillow under me. The balls of my feet were now resting against each other and my knees were pointing outwards.

Alex moved in behind me and mirroring my legs and placing his either side of my hips with his feet together. If you can visualise this, it looks from above just like a wishbone. As he pushed his erect penis inside me I could feel the warmth of his legs as the enveloped me.

This half squatting position opened up my buttocks and gave him unhindered access to my pussy. It also gave me the ability to push upwards with each inward thrust, just like a small frog hop. As he worked his cock in and out of me I met him with a bounce, pushing him deeper inside me.

The normal on the knees doggy position does not allow this upward movement, the bounce of pleasure. Movement is restricted to pushing back against each inward thrust, not quite the same and certainly not a pleasurable. 😉 As a result of being cold and trying to keep warm but not sacrifice a fuck has led me to find a new position.

Has anyone studied the Karma Sutra? Is this one in there or is it a totally new position? Either way I have to give it a 9 out of 10 for ease of entry and a very enjoyable, cervix-punching screw.

Saturday Spin

Well, what a week! Since finding out that I have been accepted for the post I applied for it has been very busy in the AlexSuze household. Strange, I have been out of work for over a year and now that I find myself going back out in the world joining the workforce of Great Britian there are so many jobs which need doing.

I have spent the last week I have at home trying to do all those jobs which are normally put off because you can do them tomorrow or next week. Consequently I apologise to my blogger friends out there if I haven’t been around to visit as often as usual.

I’m starting on Monday and I still haven’t done all the laborious jobs that you normally don’t get time to attend to when you are at work. But mentally I’m prepared which is the biggest thing. As I said before it can be a real confidence knock to be out of work for so long.

So. Thanks to you all out there for being so supportive and encouraging me, it is much appreciated. I have enjoyed the extra time I have been able to spend in your company but now needs must and I have to start earning some money again. 🙂

Now on with other things in the news.

Sex blogger Community

Alex has now become the moderator over at the Sex Blogger Community as Mr Gently steps down from the post. A big thank you for his time and dedication over the past few months.

If you haven’t been over there already go and take a look. It’s a community and resource for all bloggers and all are welcome to join. If you have any questions or issues to raise regarding blogging this is the place to post them and let others share their knowledge with you.

And finally! We had a lovely surprise from Adult Blog Hub last week when I was featured in “Suze on Sunday“. I meant to mention it then, but as I said I’ve been a little preoccupied. Sorry Louis 🙁 . Anyway, why not get over there and take a look, there’s lots to see, site and post listings, reviews, news (including me 🙂 ) and a toplist that we’re doing rather well from.

Click here to take a look.

Adult Blog Hub

I think I just about covered everything but if I remember anything else I’ll update you. Have a great weekend readers and if you can’t be good (like me. Lol) then be careful. 🙂

Forbidden Fruit

Humanity is fascinated by the forbidden. Sometimes attracted, sometimes repulsed, but always fascinated by anything that is out of reach, or denied to an individual or culture. Whether the question is “Why can’t I … ?” or “Why would I want to … ?” the fascination is still as strong.

In the area of sexuality taboos have always been used as a means of control. Some are sensible, based on good logical reasoning, take for instance the prohibition of incest in pretty much every culture that has ever existed. Avoiding close family members procreating produces a genetically more diverse population, less susceptible to disease, less prone to genetic abnormalities.

Manipulation of the genetic diversity and restriction of the gene pool has always been the province of dubious ideology. Take the common practice of close family procreation in the ancient Egyptian royal family, or the eugenics and attempted racial “purifications” of the last century. Both the product of extreme and misguided thinking, flawed science and despotic regimes.

And yet I receive spam email containing the promise of pictures of oedipal couplings, or discover stories on websites about “kissing cousins”. Why? Well some people must find it a turn-on. Unless the writer of the story is writing simply to titillate and attract a specific section of the readers on the web, the author themselves must find the subject stimulating in some way.

I’ll just say here that I’ve never seen such a story on an adult blog. They occasionally appear on sites holding “collections” of work, both free-to-view and pay sites.

If these were explorations of the psyche of the protagonists and the interplay between them, society and their family circumstances then I could see a reason for their creation and consumption, but as they are invariably written to arouse they have no discernable appeal.

This isn’t a post about the rights and wrongs of a particular narrow genre of writing though. It’s more about the concept of the attraction of that which we cannot have. Does someone else’s partner seem more attractive, just because they are with someone else? Does the though of introducing something into your sex play seem more exciting because it’s generally thought to be unconventional, or even elicit. I’d venture that it does.

Porn in general is more widely accepted for what it is, titillation, stimulation, material to awaken the sexual beast within. However when does the consumption of porn become acceptable to society at large? It varies from country to country but 18 years of age (as in the UK) is not untypical as the legally defined age where porn becomes available to the individual. OK, so let’s ignore the fact that you can have sex at 16 but not watch a sexually explicit movie until you’re 18.

What actually kicked this post off (now he gets to the point I hear you cry) is a recent news item about the high proportion of teenagers (predominantly boys) looking at online porn. Some of those being “addicted” to it. This doesn’t surprise me, though the figures quoted seemed a little hyperbolic.

What fired me up was an audio clip I heard on the radio. In it a boy said “If I didn’t have a job I’d spend all day [looking at porn on the Internet] … I enjoy it … It’s educational.”

No it bloody isn’t!

I never thought I’d be the one to say it but viewing porn on the Internet especially on commercial sites exposes you to one facet of the gloriously varied universe that is sexuality. I suppose it’s like much of the “information” that we gather from the net, of dubious provenance.

It got me wondering just how widespread that sort of thinking is; i.e. that sex is a series of airbrushed stills where all women enjoy being viewed by men and often penetrated in every orifice, simultaneously. Will we end up with a generation dehumanised by images of sex and a narrow view of what sex is?

If you read a blog you will hopefully learn something, about the author, about relationships, about sex. But even on the best written blogs that can only ever be part of the picture and only in relation to the author(s) of that blog. There’s a real world out there full of people with feelings that do not translate into what one commenter writing on this blog about certain types of pornography referred to as “suck and fuck” stories.

So if you are a teenager and have taken the time to read this piece please take away one thing. Read widely, drink deep from the well of knowledge that is the Internet, but use your intelligence and maintain a healthy scepticism. And above all, get a real life, a real partner, and when you’re really ready for it some real (safe) sex.

Tags: taboo,sexual taboo,incest,pornography,eugenics,genetic diversity,forbidden fruit

Katsumi – Part 2

KatsumiKatsumi hung her waitress outfit in the bathroom from the shower rail. It was soaked from the pouring rain. She walked around her tiny apartment naked, except for a pair of skimpy white briefs. She didn’t feel hungry, but felt she ought to eat something so indulged her passion for potato chips with labels in languages she couldn’t read. A friend of hers working for JAL brought them back from her long-haul flights, very exotic snacks.

She turned off all the lights in the tiny galley kitchen except the down-lights under the wall cabinet. They comforted her as she drifted off to sleep every night, like the night light in her childhood bedroom. She slid under the covers clutching a tattered bundle of rags that had once been a doll to her chest. She curled into a foetal ball and surrendered herself to a blissful, dreamless sleep.

~~~

One week later

“Irrasshaimase”, Katsumi said sweetly, bowing for the thousandth time that day as yet another customer entered the department store. She was a greeter at a huge, anonymous and sterile store in the heart of Tokyo. For now. Katsumi slid between jobs constantly, though her resume indicated otherwise. She always chose employers who she felt would not check too thoroughly and if they did, well she’d move on again.

Her lunch was spent in the company of a coffee and doughnut on a bench in the memorial garden down the street. She tended not to mix with her colleagues, she found herself feeling detached from them, different somehow. That didn’t stop her from watching them.

When she observed others it was like studying another species. In comparison to her they seemed like ants, driven by forces they were either incapable of understanding or chose not to understand. They were apparently unworried that their destiny was controlled by others, she would never let anyone control her life, change the course of her future, take control from her. Never again.

A familiar voice broke her contemplation of her self determination. “May I join you?”. Katsumi turned towards the owner of the voice, it was Eri, one of the perfume counter girls. Her silhouette was unmistakeable against the bright sunlight.

“Please do.” Katsumi felt a rush as the delicately fragranced Eri joined her. She’d noticed Eri the day she’d appeared at the concession. Slightly younger than Katsumi she was just as striking, she drew Katsumi like none since … well nobody who she cared to remember.

They made polite small talk, their acquaintance was superficial, so deeper conversation was impossible. Katsumi searched for an opening, a suitable point in the flow of conversation to introduce a social meeting. She yearned for an opportunity to get closer to Eri, perhaps as close as …

Her moment came when Eri spotted a group of teenagers at the gate to the garden. “Oh, now that is impressive.” She was admiring their costumes. “So you like Kosupure?” Katsumi did nothing to disguise her glee. Minutes later they were talking like old friends and Eri agreed to meet Katsumi at her apartment the next night to compare costumes.

~~~

There was a knock at he door. The sight that greeted Katsumi was a vision in blue. Eri had on a beautifully styled long dress cut in such a way that it seemed to twist around and hug her body. The hours of work in the dress and in preparation for tonight were obvious. Her face was white except for the blue eye shadow and lipstick, eyes picked out in wide black eyeliner. Her hair was hidden under a cobalt blue wig.

“Wow, you look amazing! Come in, come in.”

“Thank you. You look beautiful” And she did, Katsumi was tinkering with cosplay, on the edge of the scene and although her costume was less elaborate, her natural beauty was where your eye found itself drawn.

They talked for a while, then spent a couple of hours chatting online with virtual friends. They drank a few beers together and finally, around eleven, retired to the couch. They had found a connection through cosplay, but there was a chemistry developing that they both felt. As always at times like this Katsumi felt like she was on the edge of a dark chasm, Taking the next step meant she would soar across it or plunge into it’s unfathomable depths. There was no middle ground, all or nothing, she hesitated.

Eri’s eyes had come to rest on the exposed skin between Katsumi’s skirt and stocking top. Eri looked up guiltily. Katsumi smiled and with a beating of metaphorical wings that matched the pounding of her heart, took Eri in her arms and lifted them both across the void.

The touch of another females hand on her skin was what Katsumi lived for. It happened so rarely and her relationships were usually brief and ended in a lake of tears. She did not foresee how her time with Eri would end, the excitement she felt as they carefully undressed each other drove all thoughts from their minds. Their caresses were passionate yet gentle, full of desire and yet holding back what they both wanted.

It was at times like this as Katsumi’s naked form embraced and became one with Eri’s that she forgot her dark past, her knife-edge present and her probably nihilistic destiny. Now there were no words, no thoughts, just feelings.

They began by kissing, gently, naïvely, no tongues just the gentle pressure of lips on lips. Their arms were at first content to hold each, but their hands soon grew restless and adventurous, searching out breasts, squeezing nipples. Katsumi slid her fingers between Eri’s legs, she was ready, moist and fragrant. Eri’s moans encouraged her probing fingers in their quest to pleasure her new lover.

Eri lay on her side which allowed Katsumi to shift position down the couch and slide her other hand behind and between Eri’s butt cheeks. Her index finger rested on Eri’s anus and gently massaged it while her other hand slid back and forth across her clitoris. Eri ran her fingers through Katsumi’s hair urging her to increase the digital stimulation. Eri had never had such an experienced lover before and came a few minutes later with a delicate, faltering whimper.

Eri’s shivering climax calmed as she lay in Katsumi’s arms. She wanted to repay Katsumi for the pleasure she had given her. Slowly, she began to kiss Katsumi’s face, ear, neck, shoulder. Down she travelled, across her chest, lingering around her breasts to lick, sucking at erect, eager nipples. Her journey continued across Katsumi’s stomach until she reached the triangle of black hair between her legs.

Katsumi parted her legs slightly, Eri nuzzled between them, smelling and tasting her lover’s sex. An inquisitive tongue probed the already wet lips, Eri’s face became coated in the liquid expression of Katsumi’s arousal. The firm and gentle lapping, teasing and sucking administered by Eri had Katsumi squirming and grasping at the edge of the couch. She lifted her legs and wrapped them behind Eri’s head, preventing her from leaving her pussy unattended. Eri had no intention of leaving Katsumi half sated, she could feel the change in Katsumi’s movements, taste the subtle change in her, the precursor to orgasm.

When it happened Katsumi moaned with pleasure, gasped with delight and was oblivious to alerting her neighbours to their activities. Eri thrust her tongue deep into her hot slit and drank from the divine well.

They made love many times that night, sometimes one pleasuring the other often both cumming together as they lapped at each other’s pussies. They finally succumbed to sleep in the early hours of the morning.

When Katsumi woke she found her hand clutching the knife that she always kept under her pillow. She drew it out and rested the blade on the sleeping Eri’s neck. For a moment she hesitated, unsure of what to do next and frightened by the indecision itself rather than the consequences of the urge she felt.

Then, decision made, she slipped the knife back into its hiding place and kissed Eri on the cheek. Eri stirred and opened her eyes.

“Good morning”, she smiled.

Tags: kosupure, cosplay, katsumi, lesbian