Google seems to have mutated again and offers images which are a far cry from the requested criteria but in this case I find myself not too bothered.
She is another fellow naughty redhead. 😉
Google seems to have mutated again and offers images which are a far cry from the requested criteria but in this case I find myself not too bothered.
She is another fellow naughty redhead. 😉
I should imagine that most guys who use the services of a lady of the night would keep it secret and certainly wouldn’t involve the police.
Not so for Ryan McNames from Missouri who hired two prostitues to entertain him. One was allegedly going to flash her boobs at him whilst the other one gave him a blowjob.
Oh and I’ll add that McNames lived in a trailer park which won’t surprise you when you read the rest of this post.
The girls charged him $60 to perform their acts for him but didn’t deliver before driving off in their car. Ryan then decided to phone the police to complain and ask for $40 of his money to be returned for failing to perform oral sex on him.
What an idiot! You can read the full story here.
My search discovered this wonderful piece of machinery. It looks like you insert your cock in to the palm of the hand and the machine takes care of the rest.
One for the lazy wanker me thinks. 😉
If ever anyone had to fix my computer they would be amazed if they could look back through my search strings. Some of them are so bizarre but bring up some really interesting content which in turn I deliver fresh to your door. You see if there weren’t kinky people like me out here doing this you would miss out on so much. Lol However, if a family member or friend should need to borrow my PC they may be in for a surprise. Today’s search has brought up a gem. If you love chocolate and are in to rimming it is the perfect treat. The devil inside me is prompting me to purchase a box of these and put them on the table after Christmas dinner. If you want to get hold of a box here is the link and if you do, come back and tell me what fun you had with them. *giggle*
Before I start I’d like to put this post into perspective. I’ve met a few porn stars in recent years. I don’t mean that I’ve got a signed picture from them at a PA, I mean I’ve actually met them, talked to them had a drink with them, had dinner with them … Hell, I even have some of their numbers on my mobile phone. I have a pile of business cards from them on the bookshelf in the study.
They are without exception perfectly normal people. On the whole nice, friendly, normal people. The difference between them and the people I deal with in my day job is that they have sex for a living and those in my day job don’t. Well except in some cases where they will do anything to advance their career.
Now considering that porn stars, who are often regarded (incorrectly for the most part) as depraved and somehow different from the rest of the world, are in truth normal people why is it that they seem to be asked to depict the most degrading of acts by some porn producers?
Apparently because the public demand a certain type of pornography. Is that so? Do the public really want their porn to be filled with dialogue that is completely derisory towards the performers? That’s mainly towards females but males can be verbally abused in porn too.
I think there is a difference between calling someone a slut during the rising passion of sex, be that as part of a couple’s dirty talk or a role playing scenario and the sort of dull and unimaginative dialogue that some directors seem to insist that performers churn out in some porn movies.
It’s the same with some of the sexual activities they are acting out. To a greater or lesser extent Suze and I have tried most things. If we like them we try them again. If we don’t we just put them down to experience. But in the case of some sexual practices despite liking them we only do them at certain time because everything has to be just right.
The problem with some porn is that to ensure it ticks all the boxes some of the more unusual stuff is shown all the time to pique the interest of the audience without recourse to such archaic disciplines as ingenuity and good direction. This leads to the over-emphasis of some aspects of sex that for most people are an occasional indulgence or only carried out in the heights of the most intense sessions of love making being portrayed a regular if not mandatory part of sex.
Everyone has the capability of being the dirty bastard/slut from time to time and when this happens naturally they will enjoy it. Guys, I know it’s porn not real life but if I see another ass to mouth, spitting into a girl’s gapping ass or roughly jiggling a girl’s boobs as if it turns her on I’ll scream.
I have some strange thoughts I know, don’t remind me but can frigging be bad for your health. I was reading an article last night about vibration white finger or as it is medically known, Raynaud’s Disease.
The symptoms can be range from tingling which continues after the machinery is switched off (Oh, bugger that happens all the time) Lol to the body part turning white and possibly losing it.
So, I return back to my original question, can you get vibration white clit? Have I anything to worry about because I love my vibrating clit toys. I must admit that I haven’t seen any signs of an adverse reaction to my sex toys.
If anything should happen to my clit, I don’t know what I would do. It gives me hours of pleasure when I’m feeling randy.
I think the benefits far out weighs the risk, I for one feel a lot more calm and composed when I have come. Which is good for all and may help alleviate stress, perhaps we ought to be allowed to do it during our coffee breaks at work. Now, there’s a thought. 😉
There has been controversy surrounding Google’s street mapping right from the day it started. People were up in arms complaining that it infringed on their privacy and objected to it.
Personally I find it an excellent tool. You can now check out venues before you visit them which would have been impossible to do before. Yes there was always the option to check them out if they had a website but what could be better than being able to walk down the street taking in the surrounding area.
I find this particularly useful when booking a hotel, you can now see where exactly you are going and if it’s in a nice part of town.
Street Map has its amusing side too with several images have emerged of people in strange circumstances including the naked guy in his car boot. Lol
I don’t watch the X Factor on ITV. But I just found this clip of Nicole Scherzinger performing her latest solo single, Poison and I wish I had watched last night’s show.
She looks hot in her sexy PVC outfit.
We ordered a Chinese on the way home and sate it with a bottle of wine. It been a hard day, in more ways than one. She slipped upstairs for a shower while I dealt with my emails on my laptop.
The thought of her naked and soapy kept distracting me until I could stand it no longer. I made my way to the bathroom and entered the hot steamy room. Water and soap spattered the inside of the glass through which I could make out her outline. I pulled of my T-shirt and opened the door. “Hello, feeling dirty?” she asked. My hand answered now resting on her pussy. I massaged her clit with my finger, she squirmed and shifted her feet squeaking on the shower tray. “Don’t.” she said. “Why?” I asked, thinking she didn’t mean it. “Save it for later.”
A little deflated I returned to my emails, then when she had left the bathroom I showered. I was patting myself dry when the door opened. She walked towards me across the tiled floor, red high heels clicking against the hard surface. She reached out, red PVC gloved hand grabbing my cock. “Come with me” she said softly.
I followed her into our bedroom, enchanted by the seems in the back of her red fishnet stocking, tantalised by the silk of her knickers stretched across her round buttocks. The lacing of her corset was pulled tight, nipping her in, long chestnut hair falling in waves over her shoulders. The room was lit by dimmed uplighters and a red candle at each side of the bed.
“Lay down” she said, it was half request half instruction. Who would have refused either way. My cock was throbbing, the sensation of hot blood filling my member so strong I thought if I concentrated I could count the corpuscles. I watched her step out of the satin knickers, wondering how wet they would be, imagining the scent.
When I was horizontal she straddled me, not my cock, but my face. Her labia were a few millimetres from my lips. I needed no instruction as to what I should do next. My tongue parted her lips and wound its way inside. She lowered herself slightly to allow me easier access. Her outer lips were soft and moist from the shower, her inner lips wet and fragrant from her excitement. I pointed my tongue to allow her to settle on to it. Inside her I swirled it round a little probing until the frenulum under it hurt.
She leant her body forward presenting her swollen clitoris for my attention. I lapped at the tiny bundle of intensely sensitive nerve endings, occasionally teasing her labia, biting at her fleshy folds. My face was again covered in her juices, I imagined it glistening in the light from the candles.
Her pussy lifted away from me, she was moving down my body. Her opening aligned itself with the moist tip of my cock then paused. I could see the lust in her eyes, matched by the desire to fuck in mine. Millimetre by millimetre she slid down my shaft until she was filled and my cock was completely inside her. A perfect fit.
Another pause, she was still except for the contractions of her pussy on my cock. When she began to move on me her strokes were slow, but in only a few seconds her lust took over and she bounced on me like a cowgirl riding an unbroken stallion. Then the stallion bucked and threw her off. She landed on the mattress on her back.
Now I mounted her hooking my arms under her knees, bending her double. Her stocking covered legs and red heels waved beside my head, her swollen pussy lips beckoned me. I pushed into her slamming without finesse or respite. She squealed with delight and soon moaned my name as she came. I felt her squeeze me, my signal to release the tension from my aching balls. I grunted and continued to pump in and out, the tenderness of the tip of my cock no barrier to my thrusting. Each stroke became sweet agony accompanied by a guttural growl.
Eventually I collapsed and rolled to my side of the bed. We lay in a tangle of arms and legs for a while, my wet cock on her thigh, her pussy flowing with cum and the air filled with the scent of our sex.
I didn’t see this in Terminator Salvation, must have been cut.
The sex before work really set me up for the day. I resented having to go into the office but the memory of morning shag anaesthetised me from the worst of the morning’s stresses.
The eleven o’clock meeting changed my laid-back state of mind. She was sitting at the far end of the boardroom table toying with her pen. To a casual observer she seemed to be taking notes, but I suspected she was doodling when her pen was actually on the paper in front of her. For most of the time she played with it, resting it on her lips, rolling it across the red-painted entrance to her mouth. Occasionally her tongue would flick out and tease me a little more.
By the end of the meeting I was shuffling restlessly in my chair and hoped to hell that one of my subordinates had taken enough notice of the action points so I didn’t have to follow them up.
We dispersed across the office. I returned to my room and waited for ten minutes before calling her in. When she entered and closed the door behind her I saw her for a moment in the shirt and socks she had worn this morning when we had made love.
“What’s up?” she asked.
“As if you didn’t know.” I scolded her.
She sat on my side of the desk one hand grasping the wooden top on either side of her buttocks. I placed my hand on her knee, resting it there for a moment, enjoying the feeling of her stockings before sliding it slowly up between her legs. She wriggled slightly to allow her skirt to ride up so my hand could travel all the way to the top of her thighs.
The heat up there was intense and accompanied by a humidity signalling a warm and friendly welcome. I wriggled two fingers inside her panties, sliding smoothly into her warm depths, aided by the copious lubrication.
She held my gaze as I massaged the walls of her vagina, gasping slightly when I brushed against her G-Spot. The heat of my cock on my thigh was palpable, the now stiff member attempting to burst out of my suit trousers.
“Take them off” I growled.
“Why, Mr …” she began.
“Just take them off you filthy cow.” I said, chuckling.
She stood up, her crotch next to my face, hitching up her skirt. I sniffed her pussy then placed a kiss on her mons through her panties. With two hands I pulled the waistband of her panties down to her knees. She put her hand on my shoulder to steady herself and stepped out of them.
“On the desk.” I instructed.
She obliged, laying back on the blotter. I remained seated, rolling my chair forward until I was near enough to lean forward and place my lips on her pussy. I began to lick her outer lips, near her opening to begin with, covering my face in her juices and tasting myself mixed in with them from our morning fuck. I moved upwards, seeking out her clitoris, finding it and making her squeal. I sucked on her bud, drawing it into my mouth with cruel suction and flicking it with my tongue. Her hands grasped my head, pulling it close to her, demanding the attention that I was only too willing to deliver.
I moved down again sliding into her pussy, my tongue teasing her entrance with firm thrusts, finding myself wishing I could delve deeper than my tongue would allow. Then finally I slid out of her cunt and for a moment teased her ass.
Breaking away from her snatch I stood up. I undid my trousers, letting them and my boxers fall to my ankles. I grabbed her calves pushing them backwards, lifting her buttocks up so her pussy pointed towards me but as in the morning feeling the angle was a little too steep.
It hardly mattered. Her teasing in the boardroom and the smell of her on my face had me at the edge already and the sensation of sliding into her caused me to cum almost at once.
“Oh, yes sir” she laughed as she felt my release. I pressed my cock into her, hardly moving, enjoying the shared warmth and wetness. Our mingled juices began to ooze out onto my balls and down the crease of her ass.
My phone rang, so I picked it up. “Yeah, can I call you back I’m in the middle of something …”
Warmth is just warmth – right?
The warmth of a bed in the morning is like no other type of warmth, especially on a cold autumn morning. I could feel her against me, her legs naked her body covered in a short sleeved cotton shirt, one of my old shirts that she loved to wear and I loved to see her in. Something about women wearing your clothes …
I braved the cold and made us both a coffee. It was early, the sky outside still the inky black of night but we were both awake. I sat up in bed with my arm around her, both of us sipping at the steaming hot mugs.
Her hand slid into my lap, fingers curling around my cock. She held it, caressing its plump softness, the remnants of my waking erection. We didn’t speak, enjoying the silence of the early morning and the closeness of each others flesh. I could feel her woollen bed socks on my ankles, she always had such cold feet in the morning.
In her hand I began to stir, the soft flesh in her hand hardening and her fingers moving involuntarily along its increasing length. There was a transitional moment where she went from absently and unconsciously stroking my erection to a deliberate effort to stimulate me. The site and texture of my cock in her hand awakening desire within her, lagging somewhat behind that in me.
Her hand was still for a few minutes, only her index finger rubbing my frenulum, lubricated by silky smooth precum. She leant towards her bedside table to deposit her coffee mug on it then slide out of my arm and onto her front. Her head was turned on one side facing me, she smiled and invited me to join her, to join with her.
I slid under the covers, pushing my leg over her, coming to rest between her now splayed legs. My cock rested against the valley between her round butt cheeks. I felt the urge to gently hump the cleft in her buttocks. The copious supply of precum aided me in my indulgence, the memory of doing this and cumming over her back at her insistence a few weeks earlier filled my head. That wasn’t what she wanted now.
I drew my hips back until my cock was resting against her anus. I pushed forward a little, pressing against the tight ring of muscles. She yelped. “It’s OK.” I Chuckled, just kidding. “Maybe later …” she said.
Her hot, moist opening was only a couple of centimetres away, my cock found it with certainty and accuracy gained from innate familiarity with her body. She was flat on the mattress not wanting to rise up and let any more cold air into our warm linen refuge than was absolutely necessary. It made the entry awkward, the angle little too acute, and yet more arousing for the restriction and unusual sensations.
With more grind than bump I pushed into her pussy. She sighed and groaned with appreciation, clenching her muscles around my cock , at on point almost holding me immobile inside her. She giggled then released me to continue this strange and sensual fuck.
Her pussy was an ever-flowing river of feminine-scented juices. The heat our lovemaking generated between the sheets intensified the aroma so each movement of our bodies wafted a rich, hot wave of scent out into the cool air of the bedroom.
Her tone changed, he moans changing to gasps. The wetness in her became greater than before and the reason was obvious. She let out a long, slow, low moan, turning her face into the pillow and shouting out words that could have been “Yes, oh Yes!” but were too distorted by her orgasmic paroxysm to make out.
The excitement of the moment grabbed me and threw me hurtling into an orgasm myself. I wanted to thrust over and over but the odd angle and moisture of our union threatened to cause me to slip out of her so I pushed myself as deep inside her as I could and relished the deep contractions in my groin pumping cum deep inside her.
In the Film Risky Business, Tom Cruise has a dream where he screws the babysitter on his parent’s dining table. The cops surround the house and get on the bullhorn. The senior negotiator (don’t ask me why this is a hostage situation requiring police attendance) shouts “… you are surrounded, get off the babysitter”. LOL
Hormones cause young men to have the most amazing and intricate fantasies. And those fantasies can be about anyone they even vaguely fancy. It’s a time in your life when you are asking your self questions like “Am I gay, straight or bi?”, “Do girls like me?”, “Is Darren pulling my leg when he says that you can get a blow job from a vacuum cleaner?”
Nobody should feel guilty about the regular and often graphic flights of fancy they have at that age.
When should you stop thinking like that? 18, 20, 30?
At some point you stop actually believing that you could do that thing with that girl with a bath full of jelly – sorry? That’s just me then? Gulp! – there has to be a point in your life when you realise that fantasy is not going to turn into reality, well not the really weird fantasies anyway.
What I would say is that you should never feel guilty about a fantasy you have (within obvious, sane parameters) because having those fantasies means your sexual brain is working and as we all know the brain is the body’s biggest sex organ. If you’re exercising that it has to be good for your partner and you.
I love porn, always have and now there is more variety than ever although I have to say that it is still rather formulaic and male orientated, even the stuff produced by the girls because at the end of the day who are they selling it to?
I’m not a big fan of the stereotypical type of porn which finds it necessary to feature the elements below not necessarily in this order:
Showing your splayed lips and open ass to the camera for an indeterminate amount of time
Sucking in air though your teeth like you are in the middle of an asthmatic attack
Single finger entry
I don’t need to go on because the list is quite lengthy but you get my drift. All of the above actions don’t, I repeat don’t turn me on in the slightest.
And most of all I don’t get what it is with gaping. If I wanted to see up inside someone’s colon I would be watching casualty not porn. I can only imagine that girls who have such loose sphincters use one hell of a lot of anal anaesthetic, which would slow down muscle retraction.
In which case raises the question, does this mean that the guys doing the anal are numbed too? Which in turn answers another question I have, “why do guys have to slap their cocks on buttocks?”, could this be because they are attempting to sensitise them again.
This must make it really difficult to come as the feedback is removed…
I’m over analysing this aren’t I? Lol
We are all familiar with chocolate boobs and willies, you can even cast your own life size willy with the help of your partner.
But a new one on me was the chocolate pussy, which apparently you can also cast from your own pudenda should you wish to. Why bother when you can buy one already made for you. I love this chocolate pussy it even has it’s own clit ring. Lol
If you come across any other interesting ways with chocolate email me and I will post them up to share with you all. You can tell we are on our way to Christmas can’t you.
It was the sun. Yes we do have sun in England. At this time of year in particular it’s of a weak insipid variety. But the light does have a certain quality to it that you find nowhere else in the world. It may be the “Diet Coke” of sunlight, but it’s good British sunlight. A welcome relief from the actual and metaphorical grey bleakness of recent days.
So, with what I’ve decided is the first breath of spring, heralded by Apollo’s rather understated arrival, I wandered off for a walk around the landscaped area of the business district where I work. Don’t get too excited, we are not talking “Capability” Brown here, just lots of birch, blackthorn and willow planted along the side of a stream that runs for about two kilometres at the edge of the business park. Hidden from the road and rarely used.
In fact very rarely used as I discovered as I walked along the path. The track quickly turned from a beaten earth walkway surrounded by lush vegetation to a muddy, overgrown, treacherous path, hiding tree roots and a multitude of low growing sharp and stinging plant life.
At this point a lesser man, or some might say more intelligent man would have turned back. That man was not me. I was enjoying the solitude and the sunlight streaming through the bare branches.
Only the occasional muffled passage of a car reminded me that I was close to civilisation. But I find total solitude inviting when I’m in a pastoral setting, so I pressed deeper down the path.
The undergrowth in front of me stirred. Blackbird? Rabbit? The top of a furry head was visible briefly, topped with two bumps that might one day be horns. It disappeared below the level of the vegetation. I followed as stealthily as I could, watching for the telltale disturbances.
CRACK. So intent was I on my quarry that my head collided with a branch. Dazed and quite literally seeing stars I shook my head to clear it. Bad mistake. I cursed as the pain intensified, things started to get colourful, my vision distorted and I leant against the offending tree for support, rubbing my forehead.
“Are you alright”, said a quiet, but rich voice.
Startled, I dropped my hand and opened my eyes to be greeted by the sight of a dark haired girl, around 25 with warm brown eyes. And a nice pair of legs.
“I’m fine”, I replied, “Just clumsy, I was following something. Small furry, two little horns, you haven’t seen it ha…”. I stopped realising she was smiling at me, humouring me? “I must have hit that branch harder than I thought”. Beautiful full lips.
“It was probably a satyr, they are a nuisance at this time of year.”
“Pardon? A satyr?”, I asked, thinking I’d misheard her. That cleavage looks inviting.
“Satyr, companions of Pan …”, she said. The aroma of spring flowers and spring sex seemed to be emanating from her.
“I know what satyrs are, they aren’t real.”, I said petulantly, the pain in my head making me wince. Her sandals displayed her suckable toes beautifully.
“I think he’d disagree.”, she said nodding to my left shoulder. I felt a sharp pain as needle-like teeth pierced cartilage. “Aaargh!”
I grabbed the impish little creature and threw it across to the other side of the stream. It squealed and glared at me. I would have felt sorry for the child-like wood spirit, were it not for the blood that coloured its lips. My Blood.
A warm sticky sensation on my neck prompted me to raise my hand to my ear. She got there first, her delicate fingers caressing my wound. Her other hand slid around the back of my neck. I don’t know if she was doing something miraculous to my ear or I was distracted by the gentle touch of her fingers at the base of my skull, but the pain disappeared as she worked on me.
She moved closer and, standing on tiptoe, she brought her lips close to mine. Not touching yet, but close enough so that I could feel the heat of her body. Her succulent lips parted, ever so slightly. I pulled her to me. Through her white dress, light as gossamer I could feel her fresh, firm form. I could taste her, smell her, like I was part of her. She was at once both newborn and yet far from naÃ¯ve.
My hands stroked her back and pulled her too me, lifting her from the floor. Her legs wrapped around my waist. Her hands worked quickly, deftly on my trousers. They fell to the floor exposing my obvious desire.
She raised herself up, pulling her dress to one side and lowering herself down onto my shaft. As I slid between her virginal lips she threw her head back and drew in a slow breath, only stopping when she had settled fully onto my sex.
With my help she began to move on me, tossing her dark hair from side to side. The sensation was overpowering, how I did not loose my balance I will never know. Every nerve ending was firing adding to the tsunami of tactile pleasure. Waves of colour washed over me, colours for which I don’t even have a name.
We looked into each other’s eyes, feeling the rising climax. Too soon? No, I couldn’t stand this intensity of pleasure for much longer. As she impaled herself on me for the final stroke I buried my face into her soft bossom and held her tight, growling with the intensity of the orgasm.
I looked up at her, still inside her. “What’s your name?”
“Don’t you have six sisters?”
“Are they all as generous as you?”
She kissed my forehead and I slumped against the tree. I closed my eyes.
When I opened them the throbbing in my temple had returned. But Maia had gone.
Alex is very good at going down on me. He has a clever technique of tongue flicks and licks which can bring me so close to orgasm. I don’t recall that we have ever achieved a climax through his oral ministrations but I have (pardon the pun) come very close. I’m not sure if it is as a result of the abuse my clit has had over the past few years or if I am just difficult to please orally but mechanical methods seem to work best for me.
Not to say that I don’t enjoy the warmth of his mouth upon my swollen labia and clitoris. An experience a toy cannot replicate, warm, sensuous licks… I digress.
And then as a sweet dessert to kiss him once he emerges from between your legs. To smell your own essence upon his face. He is marked with your very own fragrance and that makes me feel so horny. Should he kiss anyone else, they will be able to detect your scent on him.
That just reminded me of one occasion when we had been to bed for a bit of naughtiness one Saturday afternoon and Alex parents dropped in unexpected. I had to remind him to wash his face whilst I let them in. lol
You really don’t wan to be smelling of your girlfriends fanny when greeting your mum.
The reason I was spurred in to writing this post is because I rose from the bed one morning after a good hard fucking and noticed as I stood up that I left behind a reminder of our tryst.
A white kiss on the bedsheet…
I don’t go out like I used to any more. And to be honest I don’t miss it, I can’t be doing with the cattle market routine any more. Also, people’s idea of a good night out seems to have shifted since I was on the scene.
Standards seem to have dropped. And I’ve heard some girls drop their knickers for a bag of chips, well you know. Lol
It’s like peeing in the street, guys doing it is bad enough but girls are now squatting down and urinating. Maybe I’m a little more prim and proper than some. In my time you didn’t let your bra strap slide in to view from within your clothing and you certainly didn’t reveal your stocking tops. That was for later.
Now it’s the fashion to exhibit your bra, they now make bras with embellished straps especially to be seen and as for stocking tops, seeing them is all the rage.
However I do draw the line at showing your pants like the girl in the picture above. 🙂
OK back to seriousness here. Flippancy aside you do have to ask the question – What is for later?
The last time I was “out on the pull” I was gagging to see what the girls had on offer and despite the skimpiest of outfits they always kept things just under cover, a little in reserve to tantalise and tease. Yes at the end of a night some of us would indulge in a drunken snog but in the same way that your dirty fantasy girl is not the one you take home to meet the parents they weren’t the ones you really want to take home to bed either … because they’d leave you with more than a memory of a drunken quicky … possibly something you’d need to see the doctor about. Or at least that was the way I looked at it.
All that seems to have changed and within the parameters set by the public decency laws everything is on show. I don’t have a problem with naked flesh. Heck I have four hardcore DVDs on the desk in front on me ready to be reviewed and a box full of them tucked away in storage. No, it’s the context that I have a problem with.
Save all your nakedness for later because if you don’t what else is there to give? A lesbian sex show with your best mate for the new boyfriend? Anal sex on the first date? LOL
I may be showing signs of getting old here but putting it all on show on a Saturday night doesn’t work for me.
I was looking back through the hundreds of products we’ve reviewed over the years when it occurred to me that I have never reviewed the Pocket Rocket.
They are supposed to be great for clitoral masturbation and being a big fan of clitoral orgasms you can never have enough of those kind of toys. 😉
Suze soon put the situation right and has placed an order for a couple to be delivered to her door. Watch this space for further updates. 😉
Before a girl had had her mouth around my cock I was totally unaware of how much technique oral sex could involve. My recollections of the first time a girl sucked my cock were of enthusiasm, but not much else. I was excited of course and she was too.
She started gently, not knowing exactly how much suction to apply and well that was it. There was a lot of sucking and slurping which at the time suited me just fine. I was delighted to get my cock in her mouth and she seemed happy right up to the point where she tasted the first hint of semen. She indicated I shouldn’t cum in her mouth and so I fucked her.
We were both very happy with the result. Now of course laddish tradition would insist that I should have been pissed off that I didn’t cum in her mouth but I’ve always been of the old-fashioned opinion that it takes at least two people to have sex and that means it’s about both of them taking pleasure from the act. Now as this was only the second time we’d had sex insisting that she did something for me that she didn’t want to do would have been inconsiderate and shortened the relationship somewhat.
But that wasn’t the point. I didn’t want to do something she wasn’t in to. The surprise I felt when she broke away from my kiss and slipped down to my cock to give it a good sucking was fantastic. What more could I have wanted – a damn good shag, which I then had. Perfect.
The point about her non-existent technique was only highlighted to me later on in life during my relationship with Suze. When I first met her oral was something we both did, me with an increasing enthusiasm, Suze lagging a bit behind. She’s never had a problem with it but I got the feeling previous boyfriends had expected and demanded it rather than just let it happen. When she realised that I was a little more considerate than this she really opened up. No pun intended.
It started with her trying to deep throat me. A feat that she has yet to achieve as she does not have a cavernous throat and I have a very adequate size cock. Quart and pint pot if you know what I mean. However, that didn’t stop her trying for a while. Listening to her make herself gag on me is really exciting, especially because she is the one who chooses to do it. Less so now because I think she’s given up on actually taking all of me in her mouth and does it as part of the range of sensations that she enjoys bestowing on me with her mouth.
And what a range. Suze has always been very attentive when giving oral and has over the years collected different hints and tips to improve her technique. It’s not uncommon for her to go down on me and to elicit the question “What are you doing to my cock?”. The new sensations she is able to generate are astonishingly varied, from the gentle and subtle to the intense and occasionally cruel. Such a range, such amazing fellatio.
So what about cumming in her mouth?
Well yes I do, sometimes, but Suze prefers me to cum inside her pussy most of the time. That’s fine with me as you really can’t hammer into a woman’s mouth with the same animal passion as you can into a woman’s vagina. Well not unless you’re in a Max Hardcore movie anyway. And Who’d want to?
From thinking that fellatio was just a girl sucking on your cock until you came in her mouth to knowing just how enjoyable it can be as a prelude to a good hard bang. It’s one of the most enjoyable learning curves I’ve been on.