Monday, August 29, 2005

On the Couch

AP is the butchest girl I have dated so far. We were together for about six months in a fairly casual relationship, in that while we enjoyed the company and the sex, both of us knew we weren't going to end up together forever and ever. It has been a year or so since we "broke up", even though we continued to have sex until the end of last year. We are still close friends and she says she doesn't think she's that butch, but compared to my previous lovers, she definitely is. Admittedly, she has qualities that soften her edges, so she is decidedly nowhere near stone butch or diesel dyke.

It was a new experience for me, because for whatever reason, I seem to attract girls who are either more femme or at about the same level of in-between tomboy as I am. Before AP, I'd never been the girlier one in a relationship. It was new, different, and I discovered that I found her masculinity really hot. She was good at a lot of traditionally male things, i.e. technical and mechanical -- she even made me a paddle! -- but also enjoyed cooking and baking. Watching her do something stereotypically male was such an incredible turn-on, to the point where sometimes I would have to mill around and watch her, just to revel in how much I wanted to fuck her at that moment. She wasn't always the most forthcoming with her feelings, sometimes to the point of confusing me, but she always showed me how much she cared for me through her actions. Much like men do, rather than talk about it, she would instead work on my car or something else equally practical, in order to surprise me and make me feel special.

She introduced me to the pleasure of wearing men's underwear (the briefs not only turned me on, they are really comfy), which I'm not sure I could pull off regularly, but on her it was very hot. The sex was pretty damn good, too.. Not only did she own her cock in such an amazing way, she was the first girl I'd ever been with that was able to female ejaculate. That, too, took some getting used to, but I have to say that it was so fucking hot to have her on top, working herself on my cock, and then as she rode out her orgasm, to feel her hot come streaming over me.

She lives at the equivalent of Grand Central Station, with the phone ringing constantly and family coming and going, so one afternoon when we found ourselves with a quiet and empty house, she turned to me to ask if I wanted to make out. We were sitting on her couch, and of course I said yes. She then stated that she wanted to fuck me, and I think I groaned my assent. As I said earlier, she was damn good with her cock.

She got up, locked the doors, then went into her bedroom to get ready. I lounged a bit on the couch as I waited, but I didn't remove any clothing. The mere thought of her fucking me was enough to have me soaking wet already, and when she came back with her hard dick evident in her pants, I could hardly take it.

She frowned at me. "Why do you still have your pants on?" she asked in a stern voice.

"I want you to take them off for me," I replied breathily.

She stood next to the couch, gazing down at me, her hand coming down to rub the hard cock tenting her pants through the fabric. She gave me a look and, maintaining eye contact with her, I reached down and unfastened my pants. She bent slightly to take the waistband in her hands and, with little fanfare, pulled the pants over my hips and then off my legs, dropping them on the floor beside the couch. I was soaking wet and my body buzzed with desire. I felt a throb between my legs as she began to undo her pants.

"With my panties on," I said in a soft voice.

She stopped briefly to look at me, then replied as she pulled out her cock, "Of course," as if she had intended it all along.

I had my left leg up and stretched across the couch, and my right leg was bent with my foot on the floor. Cock in hand, she stepped toward me, between my legs. As she moved between my thighs, she pushed my right leg with her foot, parting me wider. I settled back and opened myself to her as much as I could. She leaned down and began to cover me with her body, her stomach and breasts grazing mine as she found my lips for a kiss. I kissed her hungrily, biting and sucking at her bottom lip, my desire nearly unbearable. I felt her hand move down the length of my body, her fingers slowing as they reached my mound. I lifted my hips to meet her as she cupped me with her hand and pressed gently, eliciting a moan from me.

I could feel her fingers travel lower and, the next thing I knew, she pushed the crotch of my panties aside and the head of her cock was inside me. I groaned pleadingly, and she was inside me with her next thrust. I threw one arm around her neck, clutching at her as she fucked me. I arched and drew my left leg around her, pulling her closer. I lifted my hips to meet hers, revelling in the ecstacy of her cock filling and emptying me in a steady rhythm. She hovered over me with her face close to mine, her breathing ragged as she talked to me.

"You are so fucking wet.. you needed to be fucked, didn't you?"

Her words left me dizzy with desire and nearly unable to speak. "Oh my god, yeah.." I let out in a breathless rush.

"You're such a little slut.. so fucking wet.. you needed my cock. Take it.."

All I could do is whimper in reply. She slowly removed her body from mine and then sat on the couch. "Get on top," she said.

I moved onto my knees and straddled her, positioning myself above her lap. I sat back on her legs, her cock nestled along my wet length. I put my arms around her and leaned in for a passionate kiss. I leaned back slightly and kissed my way down her face, along her jawline, to her ear. "You are so fucking hot," I whispered as I leaned up against her to push aside my panties and position her cock with my hand.

I let out a deep groan as she slid in with no resistance and filled me easily. Being on top isn't usually my favorite position, but it was absolutely amazing this time. I think it was due to the couch's angle and the large head on the cock (for stimulating the G-spot), but whatever the reason, I was being stimulated in all the right spots. Her hands roamed my body as I rode her cock, gripping the shaft with my pussy on every upstroke. It felt so fucking good.. I was totally lost in the pleasure. I answered her with groans and whimpers as she talked dirty to me. And then, all of a sudden, I was coming.

Really. With no warning whatsoever, I exploded. The only way to describe it is to say that it was by far the best orgasm I have had in my entire life. I came so hard that I screamed.. so loudly that my throat was hoarse later. I couldn't help it; it was incredibly intense and seemed to be interminable (not that I was complaining). I clutched at AP, whose hands gripped me as rode her cock. She continued to talk to me, telling me to come for her, expressing her desire. I came forever, the longest orgasm in the history of Earth. Even when the intensity faded, it was deliriously pleasurable to keep gripping and fucking the hard cock. My arms around her, my head on her shoulder, unable to stop moaning. I continued to move myself on her as the waves abated, gradually slowing to a stop.

I was unable to move, so I stayed on her lap with her cock inside me. We held each other as I leaned against her to recover. "Oh my god," I gasped every now and then.

This experience has been masturbation fodder recently, so I thought I'd share.

Thursday, August 25, 2005


Something I've been thinking about lately is the whole personal ad thing. Of course I have them on various sites, because I'm terminally single and frustrated that I can't seem to meet anyone at all in this town. Maybe I'm unlucky, but the ads never seem to bring about much of substance.

Anyway, in all my futile endeavors, the theme of honesty has come up consistently. I'm equally repulsed and amused by what passes for personal ads, or rather I should say how people sometimes try to pass themselves off in the ads. What kills me is the bizarre phenomenon of inverse attraction of the women who choose usernames like "hotsexybabe6969" and "sexycutie4u". So this, amongst other things, makes me wonder where honesty plays into the game. When is it okay to be less-than honest? Is it okay at all? Is it all right to sort of soften the edges a little bit to make yourself more appealing?

Though I personally avoid dishonesty, sometimes it's not only inevitable, it's the wise decision. I don't advocate big lies about important things, but at times I feel it's needed for saving face or avoiding hurting people's feelings. I'm a Do-As-You-Would-Have-Others-Do-Unto-You kind of girl, and on the other side of it, sometimes I want to be lied to. As much as I appreciate and endeavor toward honesty, the total truth all the time is a real bitch of a mistress -- both giving and receiving. I'm learning to not ask questions if there's an answer I don't want to hear, but I don't see it as a huge deal if it's a little lie about something insignificant to spare my feelings.

This ties into rejection, as well. I wonder about rejection protocol, so I'd like to do a little informal survey. Is it better to let the person know you're not interested (kindly, of course) or to not respond at all? I ask because I personally prefer to not get a rejection letter in the interest of sparing my feelings, but some people seem to like sending them. See, if I don't hear back, I forget about responding in the first place; if they answer with a rejection note, I'm not only reminded that I wrote them, but that they're not interested for whatever reason. I might add that most of the replies I get seem like excuses rather than the truth, but that could just be my wounded ego talking. So, I'd like your opinions on which method you would most appreciate if you were the recipient of the rejection.

In other news, your beloved author shrivels in her sexual drought, goes to live on until she's 70, and becomes the neighborhood Crazy Cat Lady.

Sunday, August 21, 2005

Tao of Steve

I confess, I am not a ladykiller. In fact, even being a woman does not give me any particular insight into the female psyche. When I meet someone I really like, I tend to be overly excited and impatient for things to move forward -- something I've learned to be a recipe for scaring the girl off. Not only that, I have a tendency towards self-deprecation, which is not good because women can smell insecurity and fear a mile away. I'm smart and observant enough about myself to realize what I'm doing wrong, so this year I've been on sort of a quest to do things differently. I figure what I've been doing hasn't been working for me thus far, so as an experiment, I have been making a concerted effort to chill out and relax -- or to at least appear cool and confident.

I have a friend, AB, who is a ladykiller, despite the fact that he's pretty much an average guy. He's cute and a bit overweight, but not what most women would call "hot", so his skills with women have me really impressed. I mean, if he can do it, then I should be able to, right? I find myself seeking out his counsel when it comes to girls, and one of the things I love about him is he's the right balance of encouraging and advising. Plus he lets me tell him all the reasons why I think a girl might or might not be interested, and then tailors his advice toward my own personal brand of romantic ineptitude.

So AB and I were talking last night about this girl I just met, and I was filling him in on the evening she and I spent together. This girl is pretty hot and wicked smart, and I really like her, though I've been trying to rein myself in and be patient because I totally have the potential to screw it up. The problem at this point is I have no idea if she just wants to hang out platonically, or if there's a possibility for more. AB listened and advised, as he does so well, and then asked if I'd ever seen the movie Tao of Steve.

I hadn't heard of it, so AB explained the premise of the movie and the three principles. I don't want to tout it as an absolute truth, but it makes a lot of sense. So I thought I'd pass it along..

Rule 1 of the Tao of Steve:
Eliminate your desires. If you're out with a girl and you're thinking about getting laid, you're finished. A woman can smell an agenda.

Rule 2 of the Tao of Steve:
You have to do something excellent in her presence, therefore proving your sexual worthiness.

Rule 3 of the Tao of Steve:
After you eliminate desire, and after you've proved your excellence, you must retreat.

Now, of course these rules don't work all the time and every situation is different, but I think there's something to it. AB broke it down by rule; Rule 1 isn't just about sexual desire. It can relate to any sort of desire, such as if you're not happy with yourself or your life. You should feel content with who you are and where you are in life, even being completely single. In my mind, this is very similar to old cliches like "you never find love when you're looking for it" and "unless you love yourself, no one else will love you". Girls seem to like confidence and people who are comfortable with themselves. In addition, Rule 1 ties into Rule 3, in that being overly interested appears to be a turn-off to girls, so eliminate that desire and just act like yourself.

The example in the movie for Rule 2: a guy and the girl he likes are walking past a schoolyard. The two see a kid getting picked on in a dodgeball game, and the guy runs in and not only rescues the kid, but sticks around for a little while to help teach him how to play better. The idea here is not to do something crazy or out there to get attention, but that you should do something to make yourself stand out in the girl's mind.

Rule 3 is spot-on in my opinion. No matter how much I or anyone else hates games, the fact of the matter is that the whole romantic courtship thing is a game. Think about it, you talk to your friends and get advice as to what to do, you wonder if you should call, make a move, etc. The way AB described it, it has to do with the whole pursuit thing. It's all right to pursue up to a point, but too much is a definite way to scare a girl off (touché). Part of it is maintaining an aura of mystery and making the girl wonder if you like her, part of it has to do with power play. I don't know if I can explain this as well as AB did, but if you call too much or give too much of your attention, the girl might think she's superior and can do better because you're chasing her. If you don't overwhelm her with calls and/or your attentions, the roles are reversed; she might get the impression that you could do better and begin a pursuit of her own. Keep 'em wanting more.

When it comes to the rules, it may be that the girl doesn't even consciously think any of this stuff, but my experiences tell me there is something to it. Of course none of this is perfect for every situation, and I can already hear the scoffing, but I tell you what... AB has no problem with the ladies. I told him last night that I am drafting him to be my own personal Hitch. Incidentally, apparently Hitch is based on Tao of Steve.

Monday, August 15, 2005

The List

I was reading group hug the other day, and one of the confessions was penned by a fellow who had discovered his girlfriend's list of sex partners. It numbered 19, but unfortunately for him, he was number 18. He concluded with, "And why would anyone keep a list?!?"

The truth is, I keep a list. I'd never thought much about it, and reading the guy's question made me wonder. Is it weird to keep a list?

See, I never set out saying, "Gee, I need to start a list of my sex partners." It began with a purity test a few years ago, as a way to count how many people I'd slept with. Yes, they are numerous enough that I couldn't keep track otherwise. I happened to write the list in a notebook, so every now and then I come across it and add any missing names. Maybe it's weird that I like to keep track, but I blame it entirely on my shitty memory and my love of lists. I also can't decide if it's bad that I'm fine with my number (18). I'm not even sure how I got that big of a number.. I mean, it certainly doesn't feel like a lot. It would, however, be so much more if I could ever get laid!

It's not all about the number, of course. I'm not hung up on it or on a quest to elongate my list -- I'm just an oversexed girl who wants to get some. Some people act a little shocked when they find out my number, others don't seem impressed at all, so I can't figure out if I should be ashamed at being such a slut or if I should embrace my studliness. I also am not obsessed with my list, in that I don't rush to add someone's name after a tryst. In fact, if I'm dating the person, I wait until the relationship is over to add them. Adding names while still involved with someone strikes me as rather tacky. Besides, my memory isn't so bad that I can't remember who I've slept with in the past couple of years.

As a slight aside, I recently read an article about the average number of sex partners for men and women. I wish I could remember where I found the article because it was quite interesting. Based on their survey, I am definitely above average for women, and somewhat above the average for men.

So... Does anyone else keep a list, or is it weird? How many partners have you had? Come on, 'fess up!

Friday, August 12, 2005

Nameless Erotica

I have to share a wonderful little gem I discovered this evening, Nameless Erotica*, a blog of brilliant concept that contains some of the hottest and best writing I've ever read. I'm truly wowed by the writer's creativity and writing ability. I think I might be just a little bit in love.

*Nameless Erotica has sadly been deleted since this post, but thanks to the wonders of the internet, you can still read it here, just takes a bit more effort.

No, Not Gone For Good

The past few months have been crazy and I thoroughly apologize to having to drop my duties here in order to attend to real life. The good news is that I have a couple of weeks free before my life will start getting busy again, and I finally got internet at home. Hopefully I'll have internet here for good, although I already hate my ISP with a passion, so we'll see how it pans out. I do sincerely appreciate the emails and comments that were sent while on my sabbatical, so thanks.

I added a link to Pucker Up, the site of one of my favorite people on the planet, Tristan Taormino. No, I don't know her personally, but I certainly wish I did! I know I will mention Tristan in future posts, so I may as well introduce her now. Tristan is a woman after my own heart in a lot of respects; not only does she give sex advice, but she is basically the leading anal sex expert. I recently watched an episode of MTV Real Sex that featured one of her anal sex workshops, and the way she described herself about how she got to be the anal sex guru got me mulling over some things. I'm thinking of creating a sex advice column as a sister site to this blog, but I'm not sure whether there would be any demand for it. I'm considering it because people already come to me for advice on sensitive and personal matters, I consider myself pretty knowledgeable about sex (and resourceful enough to find the answers I don't know), and I am really unjudgemental, particularly where sexuality is concerned. Anyway, if anyone is interested in the idea (and maybe has a question to get it started), let me know.