Jun 262006
 

Every couple hundred weeks or so, the stars align and cosmic forces work together to give me a mind blowing weekend that makes me wonder if it even happened. It would take me a week to blog it all and another month to process how it has inspired me or changed how I view things. The hardest part is that I am not terribly sure it happened at all. Some of it just seems too outlandish.

I mean, did Confederate soldiers really get together at Stone Mountain to defend a water park from Union forces?

Did I really sit in hot Georgia weather onboard a train to listen to a group of plucky college kids lip sync every freaking song that ever had the word train in it?

Did I really see a giant carving of Confederate generals on the side of a granite mountain?

Hmm, at least I have a photograph for that.

Did I really kick my wife’s ass in miniature Stone Mountain golf? Why does a Civil War site have miniature golf?

Did my wife really give me a blowjob while I watched ‘Seven Samurai’?

And could the blowjob be half as awesome as I remember it?

Did the restaurant we went to with Possible Spanking Friend really have nude paintings of aliens? That seems too bohemian even for Atlanta.

Was those Rice Balls the best damn rice balls I had ever have?

Was Possible Spanking Friend telling the truth when she said she had never been to a sex store before? And did we go to two to break that virginity and shop for a butt plug for her?

And did we really spend over two hours at one store talking to a vampire professional Domme about spanking, identity issues, parallel universes and H.P. Lovecraft?

Did I really say, ‘I love you’ to the Domme when she mentioned H.P. Lovecraft?

Was the rain Saturday Night as apocalyptic and violent as I remember it?

Did I really spend an hour or two trying out different knots on Possible Spanking Friend’s wrists?

Did Sam really destroy my brand new silk rope within three minutes of opening it? Freaking cat claws.

Did I really grab Possible Spanking Friend by the hair and hand spank her ass? Does this mean she needs a new alias? I like Sara.

Did eat spelt bread and actually enjoy it?

Did we really watch that many episodes of ‘While You Were Out’?

Did my wife really ask me in the grocery store why I never grab her ass in public?

Have I never done that before?

Did I re-write chapter 11 of Cell Phone slave in one three hour sitting?

Was it half as good as I think it was.

Did I really manage to get the soundtracks to both ‘Kung-Fu Hustle’ and ‘Shaolin Soccer’?

See, I’m still not sure all that really happened.

Jun 252006
 

Through my crystal ball, I watched brave Viona take the lead. She walked purposefully down the dark corridor, and she never showed doubt. Not for a moment. Her companions were less courageous, but they were bolstered by Viona’s confidence. Although they faced me, the dread wizard Zandark, they had complete faith that Viona would once again defeat me and save the poor enslaved villagers.

Those idiots had no idea.

I turned my focus from her followers to the warrior-heroine herself. I loved how her gold breastplate glowed. Even in the shadows, it caught all possible light and illuminated the curves of her bountiful breasts. Her thighs were bare, covered only by a leather skirt that allowed her to kick and leap with agility. She held her legendary Moon Sword with a solid grip that caused my cock to twitch as I remembered how tight that grip could be. Her long black hair was tied back and flew behind her as she moved. I was mesmerized by the streaks of white shimmering in the faint light.

The bards have an explanation for the new white streaks that always appear after brave Viona battles me. They say the white appears because of the fresh horrors she sees in my Dark Towers. They say it is because no man or woman can face me and emerge unchanged. The truth is much darker. If the bards knew the secret of Viona’s white streaks, it would change both of our legends forever.

To read more, Click Whole Post

My desire for Viona grew as I watched her step carefully down the hall. Her perfect calves were encased in thigh-high leather boots. I have always had a weakness for those boots.

It was time to weed out her group for our “final” battle.

The floor gave out under the thief, Pibbons. He fell into my Mirror Maze where, for fun, three Dire Tigers began stalking him. Can the cunning thief survive this ultimate test of escape? I have faith in the sneaky bastard.

A cursed mirror sucked in the soul of her Elven companion, Galana. The Elven princess will remain a statue while her soul battles the will of a trapped Sphinx for supremacy in the mirror. The battle will be purely mental and most likely involve some riddles, but Galana is assured victory. She might even escape in under five hours.

A special fate awaited the chivalrous Macan of the Blue Shield. The ass. He had been courting Viona for five years, following her from one adventure to another, always treating her with kindness, deference and tenderness. The fool dreamed of marrying her. Didn’t he realize by now that Viona lived a life of adventure because she liked danger? What kind of excitement could a dull, safe man like him give her?

The Harpies captured Macan while he was crossing one of the chasms that fill my Dark Towers. Hopefully, after spending a few hours with those lewd “ladies,” he might learn something. If nothing else, they’ll smudge his armor.

Viona was now alone, but I had one more challenge for her before I allowed her into my sanctum. She had to cross the Chamber of Fire Elementals. These raging demons, composed entirely of flame, were no match for the Moon Sword; they weren’t meant to harm her. I just wanted her to sweat hard for a good ten minutes before she faced me: Viona always looked her best when she was covered in a sheen of perspiration.

With a heroic effort, she finally broke into my sanctum. She was breathing hard, and the flames raged behind her. Her breastplate was heaving from her exertions, and her black hair was free from its ponytail and lay wet against her head. Her blue eyes glared at me.

“What have you done to my friends?” she demanded, pointing her sword at me.

“Now, Viona, have I ever harmed your loyal companions?” I replied as I rose from my throne.

She didn’t answer. I liked to think the sight of my body held her in stunned silence as my robe fell from my broad shoulders to reveal my naked form. Muscles rippled along my arms and chest as I strode towards her. I stroked my black goatee as I approached, knowing her eyes were focused on my cruel yet sensuous lips. My manhood swung between my legs, and I discovered that I was wrong about her eyes. They weren’t looking at my face at all.

“You’re already naked?” she snorted. “Presuming a lot, aren’t we?”

I snapped my fingers. The tame Tentacle Beast responded instantly. Coils of iron-hard tentacles reached down and grabbed Viona’s wrists and ankles. She roared in anger as she was lifted from the ground. Suspended in the air before me, she struggled briefly, but it was no use. Even her mighty biceps couldn’t break that grip.

“Zandark!” she screamed. “Release me now!”

I grabbed the Moon Sword telekinetically, being careful not to touch the mystic edge even by thought. The sword dropped to the ground a safe distance away. Only then did I come close enough to touch Viona.

“It’s been a long time,” I said as ran my clawed fingers down her sweaty bicep.

“You said you’d be in Lansdale,” Viona accused.

“I wanted to have some time to enjoy myself before you came and destroyed another one of my Dark Towers,” I countered. My fingernails moved up her arm and to her face. Her lips trembled as I ran a claw over her bottom lip.

“What did they give you when you defeated me last time?” I asked.

She took a moment to answer because she was enjoying the feel of my claw on her cheek. “I was given a thousand pieces of gold by the King, and Macan was granted a new device for his heraldry.”

My fingers went to her hair and clenched. “Don’t mention his name when we are together,” I warned her.

She winced as I pulled her hair, then smiled. “Jealous again?”

“Always,” I said, and then I kissed her.

Kissing a warrior is never simple. Her tongue battled mine. Her lips devoured my mouth as much mine devoured hers. We warred to taste each other, and when our mouths finally broke free, she was as breathless as I.

“The things you make me do,” I whispered. I snagged a finger under the collar of her breastplate and uttered a single Word of Power. With a simple motion, my finger tore through the gold steel, slitting her breastplate down to her belly. Her undershirt I disintegrated with another Word until her naked breasts were hanging free in all their glory.

“You bastard!” Viona growled, true anger on her face. “These breastplates cost a fortune!”

I chuckled and grabbed one of her hanging tits. She moaned as my claws sunk into her soft flesh. My hand kneaded her breast as her nipple became flushed and hard. A white-streaked hank of hair fell on her face and stuck to her wet check.

I was reaching for her other breast when I noticed a tiny mark by her nipple. My magic sight peered at the strange blemish and I realized it was a White Ward! My claws grasped the nipple I was groping, and I pinched her harshly till she cried out.

“A White Ward?” I accused her. “If I had touched it, I would have burst into flames!”

Viona smiled. “Thus ending your reign of evil forever.”

The bitch always had to fight it. That might be why I love her. Using an arcane gesture, I banished the White Ward from her breast. Once she was purified, I claimed my reward, leaning down to suck her nipple into my mouth. The sweat of her flesh tasted wonderful, and the moans that accompanied the actions of my tongue made me forget the treachery of the Ward. I bit her breasts gently with my fangs until she was writhing against the tentacles in lust.

“Any other surprises I should know about?” I asked her.

“No,” she gasped. Her breasts were glowing red from my attentions.

I walked behind her and snapped my fingers. Another tentacle reached down and wrapped around Viona’s waist. It pulled her so that her ass was level with her head. The Tentacle Beast also pulled her legs apart. He was a well-trained monster.

Removing Viona’s leather skirt, I was amused to see her wearing another chastity belt. A simple spell turned the metal into mist. Her buttocks clenched as the cold mist settled on her skin. I was delighted to see that she had shaved so that her sex was as bare and smooth as her thighs. That’s my heroine slut.

I kissed her ass. Some heroes might be surprised to discover that I, Zandark, had kissed the ass of Viona but I didn’t mind. She had a delightful ass. And how many of those heroes had kissed her ass metaphorically and would give their soul to do it literally?

“Turn her over,” I commanded, and the Tentacle Beast obeyed. Viona growled with rage as the tentacles manipulated her suspended body. She was more enraged by her new position. The warrior was facing me now. Her arms were held straight up, and her legs were spread wide and lewdly for my enjoyment. Worse, she was now facing me.

“This is much better,” I sneered. I ran my claws up her belly and groped a sore breast. Her blue eyes flashed at mine. She was deliberately trying to ignore my cock although it was just inches away from her sex.

“I want to see the love on your face when I fuck you,” I told her.

She spit at me. “I have no love for you,” she said defiantly.

I wiped the spit from my chest and rubbed it on my cock. “That’s true,” I admitted. “You have much less noble reasons for letting me do this.”

My claws went to her cleft and parted her lips. She hissed as my claws ran up and down the inside of her sex. Her powerful thighs clenched and pulled against the tentacles but it was useless. I kissed her lovely boots as my fingers toyed with her.

“Zandark,” Viona moaned. My claws found her clitoris, and I began gently rolling it. She had seen these claws slit stone, but she knew how careful I would be with her. Her face flushed with excitement.

“You’re already soaking my claws,” I told her. I raised one finger to my lips and sucked her desire. “You’ve been teased enough, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” she said huskily.

“Want me to quit taunting you and just fuck you?” I asked. I laid my cheek against her boot-covered calf. The smell of her sweat mixed with leather enflamed me.

“Please,” Viona asked.

“Say it,” I demanded.

The proud warrior-heroine swallowed and frowned, but her hard nipples betrayed her vanity. It’s hard to look indignant when your lips are quivering with need. She knew the rules, and she always came back to play. If I ever relented, I knew she might kill me.

“Fuck me, please,” Viona the Brave said.

“Again,” I snarled as I stroked my cock.

“Fuck me with your cock,” Viona the Fearless asked me.

I slapped my cock against her lips hard enough to sting us both. “Again!”

“Fuck me like I’m your bitch!” she snarled. “Fuck me like a slut! Fuck me like your whore! Just fuck me hard, asshole!”

I pushed into her, and we moaned in unison. Her sex was a Fire Elemental unto itself. My cock slipped into her lips and sunk down to my balls.

It made losing another Dark Tower seem a small price to pay.

“Finally!” she growled with satisfaction. She tossed her head back and hung loosely in the tentacles as I fucked her. The mighty warrior was just a woman as I pumped her sex. Only in my power could she let go of herself enough to be pleasured.

My arm wrapped around a leather calf as I fucked her. With my other arm, I grabbed a bouncing breast and squeezed. Her nipple was trapped between my closing fingers, and she screamed with pleasure as my claws gently raked her bosom. My cock rammed her hanging sex, and I watched the sweat fly from her body. She was as beautiful in surrender as she was in battle.

Her leather boot began to unravel as my claws sank into it. With a growl, I tore her boot off and turned to bite her bulging calf. Viona cried out as my mouth clamped onto her sweaty skin. I continued to fuck her, and I could feel the muscle of her leg tense under my teeth with each thrust.

“Harder, Zandark!” the shameless heroine begged. “Claim me!”

I claimed her. With unrelenting thrusts, I claimed my prize. My cock made her mine. Her begging screams were my title of ownership. As she hung from the ceiling impaled on my manhood, Viona climaxed with a glorious wail of release.

The wails rose and fell as she rode her other climaxes. Sometimes she would pull against her bonds as her orgasm became too powerful to handle, and other times she would hang limply as the orgasm stripped her of strength. Regardless, I continued to fuck her with my superhuman endurance until the warrior-heroine begged me to stop.

“Zandark, I can’t take any more,” she moaned.

“You can finish me in other ways,” I chuckled. I pulled my cock free and marveled at how slick and shiny it was. A snap of my fingers moved her into her final position. She squealed like a fresh bride as the tentacles turned back over onto her stomach and brought her head down to my cock.

“Yes!” she said lustily before my cock entered her mouth. My hands grabbed her white-streaked black hair and pulled her head down to my crotch. Viona moaned, and her lips and throat vibrated around my cock.

Up and down I pulled her head over my cock, and she faithfully kept her lips wrapped tight around me. The tongue that had commanded armies licked the veins of my masculinity. She grunted as I roughly fucked her mouth, and her gasps only increased my passion.

My cock exploded between her lips and filled her mouth with my seed. I quickly pulled her head off me and stroked myself. Viona clenched her eyes and smiled as pumped my seed onto her face. Flying streams of white coated her face and hair as I roared with pleasure.

Few people know that the seed of a wizard marks whatever it touches.

“Dark Gods of Helkos!” I whispered when I was finally done.

“Bright Gods of Paratin,” Viona agreed.

“I could take you with me,” I offered as the tentacles dropped her lightly to the ground. “There are lands we could go to that have never heard of Viona the White or Zandark the Cruel.”

Viona laughed as she slowly crawled over to the Moon Sword. “And be your wench forever at your beck and call in another Dark Tower? I don’t think so.”

“Would it be so bad?” I asked. “I could summon plenty of nasty things for you to fight.”

She was almost to her sword. “There’s more to life than just killing things. There’s helping people. There’s also the thrill of adventure.”

I waved it off. “We could rule the world together. Isn’t that enough adventure for you?”

Viona picked up her sword. “I might have fallen for you,” she said a little sadly. “But I haven’t fallen that far.”

That was when she spun around and threw the Moon Sword. The deadly blessed touch of that mystic weapon could slay me with a nick. Fortunately, I was already beginning to fade into the Ether.

“Yet,” I said before my dimensional shift was complete.

I didn’t hear her answer.

Jun 232006
 

Today I want to talk about that special relationship that amateur/sometime get paid Writers have with a certain special someone. That someone is their volunteer Editor who never gets paid. These special creatures agree to pour over stories and root out all the typos, the commas and really bad sentences. They do the nitty gritty nasty part of writing and for the life of me, I can’t ever figure out why they do it.

I have been writing since I was a teenager. I have picked up a lifetime of bad habits and language idiosyncrasies that are just part of my voice. I also have a deep love of commas that has to be pruned daily or else all my, sentences, looks something, like this. I think I am a creative writer and a good storyteller but in the technical side of writing I need constant improvement. Hey, constant improvement is my feeling about domination, bondage, Buddhism and cooking. What a coincidence.

Now as a writer of erotica, I have had my fair share of volunteer editors. People offer to edit my stories and since I am fully aware of my flaws, I appreciate the offer. What always strikes me is their enthusiasm. They are so damn tickled to do what to me is mind-numbing work. To me Editors are the real masochists and I love them for it.

I think people like to participate in the making of erotica and editing gives them a way to help. It lets them join the orgy and provide a vital function similar to giving out hand jobs in between penetrations. I also have to hope they know how essential their task is. Their elimination of weak sentences helps everyone climax smoother. I’d rather you were blown away by the hot sex scene and not smirking because someone shoved their cock into someone’s ‘pissy’. A writer comes up with the plot, the story, the characters and all those special little things people love, but the editor is the one who does quality control to make sure those things get to you, the reader.

What has been weird for me is that I am dominant person writing a lot of domination stories. Editors come to me because they like the domination but they often fear that I and my raging dominant ego will object to every change they offer. They are surprised when I very rarely argue with them. They see editing sometimes as a dominant act: Editor makes corrections and Writer obeys. What they don’t get is that to my mind, editors are serving me. They are doing me, and you the readers, an awesome service.

Of course, once they realize that, some of the editors I have dealt with start becoming romantically interested in me. You have no idea how conflicted this makes me. Having someone serve me is an incredible turn-on. I fall in love with every good waitress I have ever had. Serve me and my writing and you’ve just about sent a thousand roses to my libido. So by the time they start flirting with me, I’m already fantasizing about them a thousand times over.

The problem is that professional relationships last so much longer than romantic ones. Once romance enters it, every takes on another subtext. I write a story about a bitchy submissive who is a brat, and the editor wonders if she pissed me off last night. If I become fascinated with a certain body type that is NOT the editor’s, there are questions of jealousy. If I really do have an issue with my editor on a romantic level, then her little editing comments might come across as snippier than they really are. And man oh man, when there are relationship problems, then the story is the last thing to get fix.

The solution obviously is to be professional and not enter into a romantic relationship with an editor. It is smarter to behave. It is wiser to keep things technical. Funny how wisdom and actions rarely meet in certain situations.

Say hello to M. She volunteered a little while ago to edit my stories. She started with Cell Phone Slave chapter nine and when we have time, she’ll chop away at earlier chapters. She has professional experience with editing which has been a big help already. She and I are hard at work on chapter 11 which has gone from sucking, to sucking less and will soon be fabulous. Go over to her site and thank her for making things better around here.

Jun 202006
 

When my wife was child, her family fell under the sway of the Worse Dentist ever. This small town quack convinced every parent he came across that their kids required thousands of dollars of work or their teeth will fall out. Now to be fair, the whole town found out later he made up these ridiculous unnecessary services because he needed to pay for his wife’s cancer treatment but in the meantime, he fucked up a lot of teeth.

So about every year now, my wife needs to go to the dentist and have a crappy filling removed. Yesterday she went and needed a root canal. She’s on pain killers for the week which makes her chatty and itchy. How chatty was she? Well she spent an hour on the phone with a friend of hers and then walked to where I was, hung up the phone and continued the conversation with me.

Here’s the hard part for me. Now that her mouth is literally off limits for awhile, I find myself craving a blowjob in the worse way. I just had awesome all-possible-variation sex this Sunday night, and hot phone sex LAST night, but here it is Tuesday morning and I feel as sex deprived as a thirty-three year old fantasy football champion. I am fucking horny and only sweet wet moaning blowjob with lovely tongue action can satisfy me. I need a mouth. I need warm breath on hard cock. I need to shoot down a throat while my hands fondle a breast.

As a writer and a dom, I know all about denial. I know how it works and I know how effective it is to dangle one little treat in front of someone but damn, I forget sometimes how effective it is on me. I would think as someone who uses denial every single day and every single Wednesday that I would somehow be immune to it. Well, fuck no. I know I will get a blowjob as soon as it is possible. I know that it will be just as good then as it would be now. But a lot like Veruca Salt, I want it now! I bet my temper tantrum song would be along these lines. . .

“I want a mouth
I want a wet mouth
I want to be licked and sucked till I succumb
And fill her mouth with come
Give it to me
Now!”

Oh well. I guess I’ll go write a blowjob story now.

Jun 192006
 

I have notebooks. I can’t help it. I haven’t been in school in years but I still have little spiral notebooks cluttering up the place. I have four sitting by my computer right now.

Some of them are for role-playing games. I need to plot my adventures in advance before I scare/kill/amuse my friends with adventures. And since I end up making 50% of it up anyway when my players don’t follow the damn script, I need the notebooks to write down the shit I’m making up on the fly.

One notebook is for writing. It’s where I jot down outlines for my longer stories. I also write down brilliant ideas as they occur to me. Sadly, a lot of these brilliant ideas are too brilliant to be contained by my laconic note taking system. For example, I have written down-

“BDSM Boot camp held for one week for newbie subs.”

Okay, that’s a good note. A year later I’m going to know what that means. However, what the fuck does this mean?

“Boobs as books”

Umm, I don’t know either.

Lastly I have a special kind of notebook I haven’t actually had in far too long. That’s my little purple notebook I keep for a submissive that I am dominating. I start a new notebook for each sub. I keep track of all the things they respond to, all the things they hate and other notes. Yes, I keep a notebook for my love life.

What fascinates me about these little purple notebooks is that I have never seen a BDSM advice book recommend one. They always tell the submissive to keep a journal so that the dom can read their private thoughts at any moment but somehow the dom gets out of the paperwork. That’s just silly. The submissive can act as a secretary but I need to keep track of stuff she’ll never know. Like the fact that she always scratches her nose when she is lying. Or the fact that she keeps looking at the Barnes and Noble guy like she is going to eat him one day. This is stuff I need to know and use, and I’m not going to remember it a week later because frequent spankings and blowjobs kill the long term memory.

The other big reason I keep one is that I sometimes go mad with dom power. I might rattle off a dozen demands and expect them done by the end of the day. Then at the end of that day I have this nagging feeling I asked for stuff, but I am not 100% sure what it is. At least with a notebook, I can jot those down and check them off when they are done. Yay, record keeping!

I am the nerdiest dom ever.

Jun 172006
 

Sugasm #36

Sugasm #36

Tue 13th Jun, 06

This week’s best of the sex blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Want in Sugasm #37? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the linklist by the end of next Monday night and you’re all set.

Sugasm Schedule is as follows:

Wednesday – Post request goes up

Friday – Submissions close at midnight PST

Monday – Sugasm is posted; last day to post the previous Sugasm

We’re back on track and good things are coming. Thanks for participating!

Announcements

Get Asia Argento’s Panties (sugarbank.com)

For The Girls Launches Erotic Fiction Competition (msnaughty.com)

Win the Cheese (nyc-urban-gypsy.blogspot.com)

Black Ball 14 giugno 2006 (deboratravslave.erosblog.it)

Erotic Writing and Experiences

Time of the Month (edinerotica.blogspot.com)

To Caitlin’s Tits, and Well Beyond (totalsensuality.blogspot.com)

A Fantasy Story, by Me (dontwakethekids.blogspot.com)

Thigh Highs, No Panties and Red Wine (wetbeyondbelief.blogspot.com)

Look Through Any Window – Part Five (theholidaylife.blogspot.com)

I Want… (easilyaroused.co.uk)

The Best Sex I Ever Had (dawnndirty.blogspot.com)

Fiction: Compromise (erotiterrorist.blogspot.com)

Temptation (pleasinglydebauched.blogspot.com)

Nightdreaming (gentlygently.blogspot.com)

Coming Upside Down (alwaysarousedgirl.blogspot.com)

Waking Sleeping Beauty (aliferestarted.blogspot.com)

Naughty Night with Stiletto Girl and K (darkside-journey.blogspot.com)

Assignation (talktovanessa.com)

Watch Him (by Super Secret Guest Author) (domequeen.blogspot.com)

Last Night’s Fun (seanandmel.blogspot.com)

More Sugasm…

Join the Sugasm

Bubbly in a New Vessel (teasingtaunting.blogspot.com)

NSFW Pics

G’Day Mate check out the I Shot Myself Video (eroticandy.blogspot.com)

Earth Goddess HNT (spiritsex.blogspot.com)

Carli Banks in a Bikini (babelog.sestaluna.com)

The Return of Cumisha Jones (ethnorotica.com)

HNT #2 (avahsascent.blogspot.com)

Shaving and Silliness – Video Blog Entry (seska4lovers.com)

Eve Lawrence (internetisforporn.com)

Corinna of FEMJOY – 3 Galleries (sensualarousalblog.com)

Nadia on Abby Winters (iloveabbywinters.com)

Teen Lesbians Bathe on Sapphic Erotica (simply-sapphicerotica.com)

Thoughts on Sex

Sex is a Figment of My Imagination (anawtymouz.blogspot.com)

Rainbow Pride (shayssexcolumn.blogspot.com)

The Word of the Day is “Glissade” (realadultsex.com)

Quotes – Bad Girls (seskuality.com)

Meat and Veg (gentlebutfirm.blogspot.com)

Wrong Place, Wrong Time (wanklog.blogspot.com)

Prostitutes and Porn Stars (hotcouple.co.uk)

Taking a Moment for Masturbation (taratainton.com)

How Women Masturbate (onaniajournal.blogspot.com)

Why Do We Go Back To The Women We Know Are _______? (vagueboy.com)

Sex Work

Warning: Not for the Squeamish… My Worst Sex Worker Moment to Date (lipstickexplosion.com)

Fine Dining (radicalvixen.com)

Making of “Lessons in Latin” (adelehaze.com)

Phone Sex and Small Talk (lustinghearts.com/phonesexblog)

Stocking Fetish Phone Sex (sabrinainstockings.com)

Sex Advice and Sexy Reviews

How to Throw a Killer Bachelor Party (4thegirlnextdoor.blogspot.com)

Art of Fingering (creamonpants.com)

Natural Contours – Liberte (sin.typepad.com/shauna_by_night)

BDSM and Fetish

Whip Me, Beat Me, Slap Me – Just Don’t Judge Me (cuntinglinguist.blogspot.com)

Anticipation (The Denouemet) (redvelvetropeburn.blogspot.com)

Silent Night (masterenigma.blogspot.com)

I’m a Horny Little Slut (everythingoze.blogspot.com)

Cucumber Fucker (spoiledebonyprincess.com)

New Anklets (photos) (silvercatspanties.blogspot.com)

In His Arms (thenewden.blogspot.com)

Foot Fetish Boyz (caramelvixen.com/sticky_blog)

Mistress Xena in Purple Boots (Video) (thebootcam.com)

Gaining Trust Through a BDSM Blog or BDSM Journal (alternativealbany.com/bdsm)

Lost in the Moment (jetshanger.blogspot.com)

Marxist Spanking (spankingwriters.com)

Photo of sexy cutie Cumisha Jones (now that’s a model with a sense of humor) c/o ethnorotica.com.

Jun 162006
 

Today we will teach you to make your own erotica but not just any erotica. No, we’re going to teach how to make your own erotic time bombs. You’ll plant these where they will inflict the most arousal and BLAM; body fluids will be everywhere.

Wipe that look off your face. This isn’t a damn writing class. I’m not going to review your work and you won’t have to listen to your classmates drone on about how THEY would have worked in a trick they read in a Neil Gaiman comic. Like a good erotiterrorist, you’ll be using materials found in your own home and relationship.

First thing first, select a target. It can be a spouse, a lover, a crush or a total internet stranger. Just pick someone you want to turn on for the rest of the day who won’t sue you for harassment. Remember, willing targets only!

Second, choose your method of communication. I like text messages because people rarely expect to find the word ‘cunt’ on a little phone screen. It can be by e-mail, it can be by leaving a message on their answering machine or it can be writing a note and sticking it in their wallet or purse.

Third, get horny. Read a blog, clench forty times or watch a few Shakira videos. Get your libido jumping just shy of dropping trousers and masturbating.

Fourth, write something short and well, sexy. Now is not the time to say something meaningful. Save that for the cuddling. For now I want you to channel that energy and write something you would only say in the middle of penetration. Make it short, primal and sexy. Hit your target’s interests. If he likes cheerleaders, give him a F. If she likes kisses, tell her exactly where you’re putting the next one. Don’t write to seduce, write to fuck. Strike them where they throb.

Fifth, send it to them. Hopefully do it in a way that they will not see you do it and look at instantly. Sneak it in their pocket, or text them when they are at work. A little secrecy is needed. You want them to discover it. Let them have the thrill of finding an unexpected present.

Sixth, wait. It’ll go off on it’s own.

Seventh, the response. They might call you up and ask why the fuck you wrote them a letter about ass sex. Here’s your only answer-

I was just thinking about you.

And that’s it. No other answer. You’ve let them know that they are your sex fantasy. Your work is done. They might come home and fuck your brains out. Or they might not. You might confuse the fuck out of them. That’s fine. It’s not about getting sex. It’s about planting that erotic explosion in their mind for just one moment. The next time they get a text message or answer their e-mail, they’ll be thinking of your last message. Well, that and whatever nasty thing you wrote them.

Go forth and blow their minds. They deserve it.

Jun 142006
 

Amaya awoke seconds before her alarm went off. Her heart was already racing. The weight of everything she needed to do pressed down on her, but she was smiling. Wesley had promised to let her handle his cock today, and she wanted everything to be perfect.

First she took an hour-long shower. Amaya literally washed everything twice. Her breasts were still tender from that evil bra yesterday, but the marks had almost faded. She shaved her legs and even trimmed her sex, making a dainty little bush. Amaya also took special care with the hair on her head, wanting the long brown locks to be shiny and vibrant today.

Yesterday, Wesley had ordered her to class despite the tack bra. Amaya took that lesson to heart and attended her classes today as well. Oddly, she was able to concentrate, and she took very good notes. Perhaps it was knowing the importance Wesley placed on education that caused Amaya to focus so well. This idea made her giggle during one of her classes. It was the promise of sex that made her a faithful student. She didn’t expect to see that on a campus brochure anytime soon.

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She ate small meals to keep her stomach from getting upset. It was easy to get nervous, and the last thing Amaya wanted was a stomachache. She spaced her meals out all day long so that if Wesley took her out to dinner afterward, she would have enough room to eat something. If all he wanted to do was fuck, well, Amaya figured she could lose a few pounds.

Amaya cleaned her glasses down to the nose pads. She took another shower in the afternoon because her room was hot and she was afraid she had picked up more sweat. She found a stray hair on her leg and spent a half-hour going over her legs with tweezers. She applied her analytical mind to the task of discovering and countering any possible blemish, fault or weakness her body might possess.

She chose her clothes just as carefully. The underwear was easy because Wesley had provided it all. Amaya choose a purple bra and a matching thong. They were the same color as the vibrator he had given her. The soft bra hugged her breasts, and it was such a gentle alternative to the bra she had worn yesterday. She briefly debated wearing the one with tacks but thought better of it. If Wesley needed more tests, Amaya was sure he would provide them.

Once again, her wardrobe felt lacking. Although she had bought quite a few clothes lately, Amaya still felt like the Asian-American girl who had had so much trouble getting dates in high school. Eventually, she just had to place her trust in the new clothes. A white blouse made her look feminine and classy, while a pretty black skirt hid her chubby legs. Amaya was glad she had picked up the earrings at the mall. The gold sparkled and made her look not quite as unsophisticated as she felt. She completed her outfit with a pair of brand-new black heels. Even as critical as she was of herself, Amaya had to admit she looked good.

At six o’clock, Amaya began the long walk to the Jackson building. It took her only twenty minutes to get there. That was OK. Amaya could wait. She sat outside on the steps and tried to look casual. She’d waited this long to meet Wesley; what was forty more minutes?

It was an eternity. Amaya checked her watch every minute, then every thirty seconds. Finally, she took off her watch and put it in her pocket. It was past six, so most of the students had gone home for the day or were in the library. She could see lights coming from two classrooms in the Jackson building, so there had to be a few night classes going on. Amaya watched the sun set and took slow breaths to relax. It didn’t help.

The phone rang, and Amaya nearly squealed with relief.

“Hello, Amaya. I trust you are at the Jackson building?”

“Yes,” Amaya answered. “I’m sitting on the steps.”

“That won’t do,” Wesley said. “Go through the main doors and take a right. Tell me when you are at the men’s restroom.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Amaya said to herself as she went inside. She had never been in the Jackson building before, and she was a little taken aback by how run-down it looked. Water stains marred the walls, and a musty smell pervaded everything. Amaya frowned as she went down the hall. Surely there were better places for her first encounter with Wesley?

“I’m outside the men’s room,” Amaya said.

“Look inside and tell me if anyone is there,” Wesley said.

Whoa. Amaya took a deep breath and opened the door. She was surprised by how difficult this was to do mentally. The men’s bathroom was a forbidden place, even more then the back entrance to a theater or the roof of her dorm. Years of conditioning weren’t so easily overcome, but Amaya did as she was told with only a second’s pause.

The bathroom was just as bad as the rest of the building. Dirty blue tiles on the floor and gray walls made the place look like a cell. Rust stains surrounded the sinks, and the three stand-up urinals were a dirty white. There were three stalls, all of them empty.

“It’s empty,” Amaya said. Oh God, she didn’t want to fuck Wesley in such a dismal place, but making her do it here was just another test, wasn’t it? What other girl would go through with it here? In a way, Amaya welcomed the dirt and the smell of piss. They just proved how dedicated she really was.

“Go to the stall on the end, the one up against the wall,” Wesley said. “Lock the door and sit on the toilet. Hurry now.”

Amaya did as she was told. The toilet was just as dirty as the rest of the bathroom, but thankfully, the bowl was empty. She closed the door and was disturbed to see that the lock was just a tiny metal bar that pushed out an inch onto bare wood. There were grooves in the door where other people had obviously opened the door with the lock on. She sat down gingerly on the toilet seat and wasn’t surprised to find that it wobbled.

“I’m in,” Amaya said.

“Excellent. Now look to your left. See that hole beside the toilet paper?”

Actually, there was no toilet paper, but Amaya saw the hole he was referring to. From where she was sitting, it was just below eye level. The hole was large, easily two inches in diameter. She wrinkled her nose as she thought about how easy it would be to spy on someone while they were taking a dump. Why would guys want to do that in their own restroom?

“Now I shall explain the rules for the next hour, my dear Amaya,” Wesley said. “Someone will walk into the stall next to you. He will take out his cock, and he will slip his cock through that hole. You will suck that cock until it climaxes. Then that person will leave, and another will come in, until you’ve sucked three cocks in all. Fail to get all three of them off before the hour is up, and you lose the game. If you win, you will remain in your stall till I call you. Understand?”

No, she didn’t understand at all. “You — you said yesterday that I would handle your cock.”

Wesley chuckled, and his deep laugh made Amaya tingle despite the squalid conditions of her environment.

“I intend to keep my word, Amaya,” Wesley said. “One of those cocks will be mine.”

Amaya felt her cheeks heat up. “Which one?”

“That would be telling,” Wesley said and then he hung up.

“Oh, my God,” Amaya whispered. Could she possibly go through with this? So far he had only asked her to masturbate herself or others. Once, he might have masturbated her. Now Wesley expected her to give blow jobs to strangers? This was insane! How could he expect her to blow three guys, one right after the other, like some sort of slut?

Amaya closed her eyes. She should leave. She should go right now and forget about Wesley. It was too much. If she did this, what more would he expect from her?

The door to the restroom opened, and Amaya opened her eyes. She heard footsteps, and someone came into the next stall. Despite her fear, she looked through the hole. It wasn’t big enough to let her look at the guy’s face, but she could see him unzip his pants and take out a very hard penis.

She jumped back from the hole as the penis slid through. It was so surreal. She was in a dirty men’s restroom with a cock pointed right at her! Amaya knew she should leave, but the strangeness of the situation transfixed her.

The cock itself kept her from leaving. It was so hard and rigid. It wasn’t particularly large or anything, but it seemed so pure sticking out of the wall like that. Instead of being threatened, Amaya felt almost sorry for the stiff flesh. It was there to be sucked, nothing more.

Plus, it might be Wesley’s cock.

Amaya leaned forward on the toilet seat and took the cock into her mouth. A low groan came from the other side. Amaya smiled with the cock still between her lips. The rational part of her mind hadn’t worked out the details yet, but Amaya was going ahead anyway. She would suck this cock and decide later about the other cocks.

Sucking it wasn’t as easy as she’d first thought. The hard wall of the stall bumped her nose when she slid forward on the cock. Amaya found herself wanting to grip the cock as she sucked, but the limited amount of cock that poked through the wall prevented this. If she was to get any of it into her mouth, she would have to go hands-free.

Back and forth she slid on the cock. Amaya appreciated the salty taste of the man’s skin; it helped block out the other, less pleasant smells of the restroom. Amaya closed her eyes and worked her tongue all along the man’s shaft, tasting every bit of him. After so many days of being teased and tested, she enjoyed the simplicity of having a cock in her mouth. This was a test she knew she could pass.

It was also turning her on. Heat flooded the area between her thighs, and the thong pulled and tugged in intimate places. She didn’t know if it was the perversity of the moment that was turning her on or the simple fact that she had a cock in her mouth. The groans coming from the other side weren’t hurting either. Each groan reminded her there was a person on the other side of the wall, someone who appreciated the licking of her tongue and the suction of her lips.

The breathing on the other side began to turn into panting, and Amaya knew he would come soon. Was she really going to take a stranger’s cum into her mouth? The idea was shocking to her, but she found herself sucking harder. The tingling of her clitoris demanded it.

There was no sound on the other side to warn her, just a sudden flood of cum that sprayed the inside of her mouth. Amaya paused as she savored the flavor. It had been far too long. There was something about the flavor of cum that just made her feel special and loved. It was an affirmation that maybe she wasn’t nearly as unattractive as she sometimes felt.

The cock pulled away and disappeared into the other stall. Amaya sat back, stunned. She had done it. The cum was hot in her mouth, and she swallowed it. Her sex was so warm and ready to be fucked. Amaya still didn’t understand why she was doing it, but that was OK. She knew that now that she had started, she had to see this game through to the end.

The man she’d just sucked left the restroom, and a minute later, someone else walked in. One of the cocks was Wesley’s, but Amaya wondered who the others were attached to: Friends? Employees? She had a strange thought of guys playing her game, receiving instructions via cell phone and being told to stick their cocks through a hole in the wall.

She heard the man enter the stall next door, but this time, she didn’t watch him undress. Amaya could hear him, though, from the zipper being pulled down to the sound of his pants hitting the floor. He slid his cock in, and Amaya smiled when she saw how much bigger this one was. No bumping her nose on the wall this time!

Amaya licked the tip of the cock and was disappointed not to hear a groan. Feeling a little challenged, she ran her tongue across the length of the cock sideways. The cock throbbed, and Amaya smiled. Just a little reaction was all she wanted.

She put the tip of the cock into her lips and tried to get as much of it as she could into her mouth. It was just too long. She tried to go deeper, but it was impossible. Not that the guy seemed to mind; his cock was throbbing endlessly as she tried. It disappointed her that she couldn’t deepthroat him, but she accepted that she had limits.

This cock was long enough to hold, and Amaya was glad to have something to do with her hand. She wrapped her thumb and forefinger around the cock and rubbed gently as she sucked. Even though she knew the cock wouldn’t go anywhere, it was reassuring to have a grip on it.

Someone walked into the restroom, and Amaya stopped mid-suck. The cock throbbed in her mouth as she heard someone unzip and start pissing into a urinal. Amaya’s heart was pounding as she debated stopping. What if the new person heard her? What if it was a teacher? How would she explain to her parents getting expelled for giving blow jobs in a men’s bathroom?

The cock throbbed again in Amaya’s mouth. The guy in the other stall groaned in frustration, and Amaya was sure the new stranger had to have heard it. She did nothing, and the guy groaned again. It was clear that he was upset over her stopping. What could she do? Amaya resumed sucking him as the sounds of the new stranger pissing continued. She sucked the cock slowly so as not to make any noise, but that only made the cock’s owner more frustrated. Amaya had to appease him and do it quickly before the pisser figured out what was going on.

After a moment’s thought, she pulled back until just the tip of the cock was in her mouth. Her tongue flicked quickly over the head, lapping against it with rapid strokes. He got very quiet and Amaya exhaled a sigh of relief. That was when she noticed the pissing had stopped.

Footsteps echoed in the restroom while Amaya continued flicking her tongue over the guy’s cock. Her mouth was fixed on the cock as she clenched her eyes tight. He was walking right to her; she knew it!

She was wrong. The faucet was turned on, and Amaya could hear the guy wash his hands. Relieved, she stopped flicking her tongue for a moment. The cock tensed, and Amaya quickly rubbed her tongue over the cock tip to cut off any complaining. Instead of a frustrated groan, she heard a near-silent hiss of pleasure. She decided she could live with that and kept rubbing the flat of her tongue against his cockhead. Small drops of pre-cum coated her tongue, and she almost moaned out loud before catching herself.

The water stopped running. Amaya licked and listened as she heard the sound of paper towels being pulled and used. She kept licking hard on the cock with the strongest strokes she could manage to keep her guy satisfied. After what seemed like forever, she heard the restroom door slam as the bystander left.

“Yes,” she heard from the other stall. Amaya agreed. As she relaxed a little, she realized how wet and molten her sex was. Amaya’s pussy was alive with sensations, and she debated again lifting her skirt and masturbating. Yes, it would be lewd and slutty, but she could barely think with the thong rubbing constantly against her.

“Yeah!” the man next door cried out in the quiet restroom. Amaya jumped at the sudden noise and then she felt the shooting semen against her tongue. Her hand clenched around his cock as she took more of him into her mouth. The guy said nothing else as he emptied all he had, and Amaya was relieved there were no further outbursts.

When the cock retreated back to the other side of the wall, Amaya sat back, stunned. She had done it. Two cocks had entered that hole, and she had sucked both of them off. The taste of cum was overpowering in her mouth. Her jaw was a little sore, but Amaya was struck by how much she was enjoying this. Yes, it was humiliating to be used for her mouth like this, but she couldn’t deny how exciting it was. This was Wesley’s challenge, and she was winning. That was all she needed to know.

The guy left, and Amaya could hear the footsteps of a new guy almost immediately. He walked very slowly and took his time getting to the stall. The waiting was too much. Amaya lifted her skirt above her knees and rubbed her thong. A single stroke made her whimper. She was so damn hot, and this guy was taking so damn long. She wanted to cum, but she was going to wait till she had a cock in her mouth. Wesley would prefer it that way, she thought.

The door to the stall next door closed. Pants were unzipped, and Amaya watched as a cock emerged through the wall. It was smaller than the last cock, but larger than the first. There was a tiny drop of pre-cum glistening on the cock, and Amaya was quick to lick it off. The cock shuddered, and Amaya smiled. She’d never felt more desirable in her life.

Amaya took the cock into her mouth and sucked it down to the hole in the wall. She could smell the man’s cologne through the hole, and it smelled great. She sucked hard on the cock and was rewarded with another shudder. It was so nice to be appreciated.

It was impossible to hold off on stroking herself now. She was too wet, too horny and too ready. Her hand pushed aside the flimsy bra, and Amaya regretted that none of the men had had a chance to see her panties. Oh, well. Amaya sank her fingers into her pussy without another thought. The bliss of touching herself caused her to moan, something the cock in her mouth seemed to enjoy as well.

Amaya chuckled and kept stroking herself. She didn’t know how much of the hour was left, and she didn’t care. Her body was in a state of heightened arousal. She just wanted to cum. There was no room in her mind for doubt or fear. She was just sucking and masturbating.

She didn’t know if it was Wesley’s cock or not but she treated it like it was. Her lips sealed around the cock, while her tongue lavished it with licks and gentle strokes. Amaya stroked a sweet spot on her pussy and moaned freely, letting her lips vibrate around the cock. When her jaw became too sore, she took the cock out of her mouth and kissed up and down the length of it. The cock was shiny from her spit and swollen red with desire.

The cock slid back slightly and then thrust forward, the man’s body slamming against the flimsy stall wall. Amaya smiled as she saw the guy needed to fuck as badly as she did. For a moment, she wondered if she could stand up, bend over and get that cock in her pussy, but she decided against it. Wesley had told her to suck, and she wasn’t about to disobey now.

Despite the pain in her jaw, Amaya took the cock back between her lips. The man groaned and kept thrusting. She let her jaw go slack as he fucked her mouth. Amaya longed to feel the man’s hands on her head or maybe grabbing one of her sensitive nipples. She needed more human contact, but she had to settle for his cock pumping between her lips.

Amaya climaxed first. It was a glorious orgasm, making her nipples feel on fire underneath her tight bra and her eyes roll in her head. She moaned around the cock that never stopped thrusting into her. Her fingers didn’t stop either, stroking constantly as she brought herself to another climax in the bathroom stall.

The thrusting stopped suddenly and then there was a hot splash of cum in her mouth. Then the thrusting resumed. Amaya choked for a second since she was caught off guard, but she quickly recovered. Between the two of them, they drained the cock of all of its semen, and Amaya faithfully swallowed every drop.

The cock withdrew, and Amaya could hear the man zip back up. She sat back and let her skirt fall over her legs. Her jaw was sore and her tongue was exhausted, but she was smiling. She had done it. Not to mention one hell of an orgasm or two for herself. ??

She waited for the phone to ring. Her fingers were sticky from her desire, but there was no toilet tissue. Amaya wanted to get up and wash her hands, but she stayed where she was. No sense fucking up the game now.

The phone rang, and Amaya croaked out a hello. She was taken aback by how hard it was to talk. Oh, well, what did she expect after three blow jobs?

“Very, very good,” Wesley said. He was chuckling, and he sounded giddy. Amaya smiled. She had caused that.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“You’re progressing very well, Amaya,” Wesley said. “You’ve gotten further than many have before. At this point, I am doubtful you can lose.”

“Good,” she said. “I don’t plan on losing.”

Wesley chuckled. “That sounded like a challenge. I’ll need to do some thinking. Right now, I can barely walk, much less anything else.”

“Was I that good?” Amaya teased. She was delighted. It was nice to know she could affect him so.

“You were excellent,” Wesley said.

“Oh, I had a question,” Amaya said. She hated to ask and possibly ruin the moment, but she never knew when he might hang up. “Will you be needing me tomorrow afternoon? I had something planned.”

Wesley got quiet. “Really? Is this a date you have planned?”

Amaya’s heart raced. “Yes.”

Wesley was quiet. “Is that a problem?” she asked. Oh, God, he must not be Chris after all!

Wesley chuckled. “Your mouth has been fucked by three cocks, and yet you’re asking permission for a date. Tell me about the boy. Is he a classmate?”

“No,” she said. “I met him in the cafeteria.”

“I see,” Wesley said. “What’s the young man’s name?”

Amaya told him, and Wesley said nothing for a few seconds. She thought she had been afraid when the first cock slid into the hole. That was nothing. Wesley’s silence was far more terrifying. Amaya felt tears spring into her eyes as she wondered if this would the mistake that lost her Wesley. The tears stunned her, but she didn’t let herself think about it. She had to know what Wesley thought.

“Amaya, listen very carefully to me,” Wesley said his tone was very serious. “I will not call on you tomorrow. You’ve certainly earned a reprieve. But when you go on your date, you’re going to let Chris fuck you. If he doesn’t make a move, you will fuck him.”

“Is this my task for tomorrow?” Amaya asked. She was wet again. Wesley was telling her to fuck Chris! She desperately wanted to do this for him, to prove herself all over again.

“No,” Wesley said, and Amaya’s heart sank. “No, there will be no reward for that task. You will do it because you know it’s what I want. Or am I wrong?”

“No, I’ll do it,” Amaya said.

“Excellent. Your reward for today’s task is in the stall next door. Enjoy your time tomorrow.”

He hung up before Amaya could say anything. She closed the phone and took a deep breath. The disappointment of not seeing Wesley’s face, the terror of sucking three strangers and the strange way Wesley had acted when he found out about Chris had left Amaya exhausted and emotionally unsure. She didn’t know up from down anymore. Had she done well, or was she in some sort of trouble?

Amaya shook her head and stood up. Bolts of pain shot through her legs, and she realized they must have fallen asleep on the toilet seat. She wanted to let them recover slowly, but her money was in the next stall. There could be no waiting. What if another guy came in and used that stall? Amaya gritted her teeth and willed her legs to move. She had earned that money!

The stall was just as dirty as the one she’d just left. The hole seemed larger on this side, and when she peeked through, she was disturbed by how much she could see. Her money was taped together in a large bundle on top of the toilet paper dispenser. She stuffed the money into her pocket and hurried out of the restroom. Thankfully, no one saw her exit.

She counted the money on her way home. It was a thousand dollars in hundred-dollar bills. Amaya whistled to herself. That was roughly three hundred and thirty dollars for each blow job. Oddly enough, the thought didn’t bother her. The young woman felt she should be experiencing some sort of shame from getting paid to give blow jobs, but instead, she was actually proud. It was a tough thing to do, and Amaya had managed to get through it. Besides, it was hard to feel shame when her pussy was still so wet.

Jun 132006
 

Dear Sir or Madam,

Recently the work computer used here at the Erotiterrorist camp was sabotaged by Puritans. They destroyed a hard drive which resulted in a lot of re-installing of vital software. Because of this, various regular functions will be postponed till further notice. For example, the Friday Dildo-carving class is cancelled, as well as the Thursday Apartment Neighbor Fucking class.

We are contacting you in the strictest of confidences to enlist your help. Our talented computer specialists are hard at work but due to their high sex drives, they only work for tit pictures. Yes it’s true. They need fresh never before seen pictures of breasts to continue their work. Home made pictures only please, as these nerds have already committed to memory every single breast that is on the Internet.

I know you may be shocked. You may even be offended. We suspect some of you are shocked, offended and aroused. I ask you to search your heart and maybe your cunt and help us in our time of need. Remember when you were horny that one time, and you found a story on our site that helped you through this difficult time? We were there for you with a sexy story that made your toes curl, can’t you make ours curl as well?

Lastly, don’t do it for us. Do it for the millions, okay, thousands, ummm, more like hundreds of people who read this site every day. The world needs erotica. The world needs to get off and relieve the stress that comes from living in a crazy world where the media thinks Paris Hilton is sexy. Do it for the next generation of sexually active adults who need to know that sex is not about thin attention whores, but about real people, having real sex and getting really spanked.

You can send your donation to shonrichards at yahoo dot com.

Yours in porn,
Shon Richards

Jun 122006
 

I want to fuck.

I want to fuck in the worse possible way in all the good ways I can imagine.

I want a handjob.

I want a blowjob.

I want to be double teamed by two horny women.

I want to bend a woman over.

I want to spank her.

I want to fuck her.

I want to bend her backward by the hair.

I want to maul her breasts.

I want to bite nipples.

I want to twist nipples.

I want to squeeze tits.

I want to slap breasts.

I want to wrap breasts around my cock.

I want to mount a slut.

I want to fuck a whore.

I want to make a princess beg

I want to make a slave cum.

I want to strip a woman’s clothes off.

I want to tear open a shirt.

I want to bite through panties.

I want to use her hose to bind her wrists.

I want her tied spread eagle.

I want her hogtied.

I want her ankles bound to her wrists.

I want her hands behind her back.

I want her throat in a collar.

I want her throat in my hand.

I want her throat to be covered in my bites.

I want her thighs around my waist.

I want her thighs around my head.

I want her ankles on my shoulders as I drive into her.

I want her hands gripping my ass as I fuck her.

I want her hands gripping my ass as she sucks me.

I want her hair around my hand.

I want her hair on my lap.

I want her hair on my face as she rides me.

I want to make her moan.

I want to make her beg.

I want to make her whimper.

I want to hear her scream.

I want to cum in her cunt.

I want to cum in her mouth.

I want to cum on her face.

I want to cum on her tits.

I want to cum on her spanked ass.

I want to cum IN her ass.

I want to cum.