Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Especially for Ryan
Here's proof that Cara really does read the comments, and that she aims to please!
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
And She Keeps Getting Better.....
She does keep getting better, doesn't she?
How about coming up with a caption for Cara's newest photo?
And if you enjoy what you see, don't forget to give Cara a big thank you and let her know what you think!
How about coming up with a caption for Cara's newest photo?
And if you enjoy what you see, don't forget to give Cara a big thank you and let her know what you think!
Monday, March 18, 2013
Happy Monday from Cara
Would you have made it to work this morning if Cara were at home with you looking like this?
I didn't think so.
If you like this one, wait 'til you see the one she's sharing with us tomorrow!
I didn't think so.
If you like this one, wait 'til you see the one she's sharing with us tomorrow!
Friday, March 15, 2013
Thursday, March 14, 2013
Thump! (squeak)
The last meeting with one of the guys I've written about before was particularly interesting - funny, scary, and strange. I'm not going to mention which playmate he was, just in case some of his friends see this. I'll just call him Q.
Q and I had been playing for a couple of hours already when, after a break, he told me to put my hands behind my back. I knew what he was planning, but it was ok because we had talked about it and I trusted him, so I rolled onto my side, toward the edge of the bed and put my hands behind my back. He fastened some leather cuffs onto my wrists and snapped a metal ring, attaching them to each other.
I looked over my shoulder at him and smiled. He told me not to move and he got up to get something out of his bag. He came back with a ball gag and a blindfold.
"Open up," he said, like someone trying to get a toddler to eat something. I opened my mouth and he put the soft ball between my teeth and fastened the headgear tightly. Then he put on the blindfold.
I know I said I trusted him, but at that point I was scared. I felt very vulnerable. What if he wasn't the guy I thought he was? I could hear him moving about the room, going into the bathroom, telling me not to move. I was right on the very edge of the bed and I wanted to scooch backwards a bit, but I knew he was serious about me not moving.
He came to bed and snuggled up to me, spooning right behind me. He kissed my neck, started talking dirty to me, which I l-o-v-e, before playing with and pinching my nipples. After a minute or so, he applied some nipple clamps. They weren't so bad at first, but then he started tightening them up slowly. He'd tighten a little and then wait. Soon, the pain was VERY intense, and I was just about at my limit, but I couldn't use a safe word or tell him to stop. All I could do was try to scream and kick, but he had me very well gagged and his leg was thrown over mine so I couldn't move.
He managed to attach a chain between the clamps. By then, the pain was still extreme, but I was relaxing into it a bit and becoming very turned on by the whole experience.
He pulled the chain between the clamps up to my face and somehow attached it to the gag apparatus. That pulled the chain taut. I moaned. I could hear and feel him reaching for something. It turned out to be lube. In a few seconds, he was sliding his hard cock into my ass, one arm wrapped around my hips to pull me back onto him. He didn't go in slowly and gently. No, he forced himself in me in one driving stroke. Even with the lube, I couldn't help but respond with a muffled yelp and an attempt to wiggle away from him. Of course, there was no escape. He had his arm firmly around me and I was right on the very edge of the bed. If I leaned forward at all, I'd be on the floor. The good thing about the hotel was that it was a very nice classy place. The bad thing was that the bed was high off the ground, not 24 inches off the ground like the cheap motels. If I fell off the bed, it would be l-o-n-g fall.
That's what I was thinking about when he roughly pulled my head back by my hair. As my head went back, the chain to the nipple clamps pulled up and the pain in my ass suddenly disappeared as my nipples felt like they were on fire. I screamed into the gag loudly, but it came out as a pathetic little moan. Wow, I thought, this gag really works well! But I did't think that for long because the pain reached a crescendo where it was all I could think about. All my attention was focused on my tits. I barely noticed that he had started moving again, fucking me, or that he was saying something to me.
I was breathing hard. I finally came to my senses and stopped struggling, knowing that he would release my head if I was good. That's exactly what he did.
"Good girl," he said. "Are you ready to be a good fuck toy?"
I nodded yes slightly, trying not to move the nipple chain much.
"What was that?" he said laughing. He was definitely enjoying this. The truth is I was enjoying it, too. I nodded in a more exaggerated motion, hurting my nipples myself, which is what I know he wanted to see.
"Good girl," he said again, and he redirected his attention back to pumping his thick cock in my ass. He had already cum twice so I suspected this was going to take a little longer than I might have liked, and I was right. Every now and then he'd pull my hair back, I'd squeal in pain, he'd laugh, and then he'd release me and focus back on the fucking. Eventually, he was fucking me so hard and forcefully that I was having trouble staying on the bed. I pushed back against him and tried to roll backwards in between thrusts - all unsuccessfully. I tried to "talk" calmly but loudly to let him know I was trying to say something, but all he would do in response was pull my hair back until I was quiet again.
When you're about to fall three feet off a bed without your arms to break the fall, you start to think strategically I decided I would do everything I could to "be good" so he would't be holding my hair when it happened. That could be very, very bad. I tried to remember where the night stand was. Was it right next to me head, or a few inches further up?
I could feel that he was getting close to coming by the way he was moving and the way his cock had enlarged and hardened just a little bit more. Maybe I'll get lucky, I thought, and he'll cum now and I won't fall.
His final thrust as he came was powerful, launching me off the bed. As I it the ground, I heard a loud THUMP, and a little squeak coming from me. It sounded like the squeak of a carnival cupie doll.
A second later, I heard him shouting, "What the fuck?!" and I was moaning in pain. I hadn't thought about what would happen if I landed on my front side and I fell on those nipple clamps. That pain was competing with a sharp pain coming from my head.
I felt him unfastening the ring between the wrist cuffs. I didn't wait for him to take the cuffs off; I immediately reached underneath myself and pulled off the nipple clamps which sent a shot of pain through me that made me dizzy. I reached up and tore off the blindfold.
That's when I saw the blood.
I pulled off the gag and threw it across the room. I put my hand on my head and sat up to assess the damage. Blood was gushing down my face. I looked at him and saw that he was white as ghost. His mouth was open, but he couldn't speak.
Men are useless in an emergency, I said to myself, and I got up and headed to the bathroom to check out the injury.
Apparently, my head hit the base of the nightstand next to the bed. The base was like a little four inch pedestal for the table so my head hit it at full force and speed as a I fell, before any other part of my body hit the ground. I'm lucky I didn't break my neck.
I looked in the mirror and saw the gash on the left side of my forehead right at hairline. It was about four inches long and pretty deep, which explained all the blood, but it was a pretty clean cut and it was well placed. It was likely that I wouldn't even have a scar, as long as I got to a doctor to get some stitches soon.
I took a look at my breasts as I was cleaning up. My nipples were seriously bruised and still very painful. Damn, I thought, I hope I don't have to explain that.
I managed to clean myself up and slow the bleeding. I held a clean towel (I had already gone through two) against my head and walked back into the room. Q was sitting on the edge of the bed naked, starring into space, right where he was when I left the room. He looked like he was in shock.
I looked at the wall in front of him and there was a thin line of cum on the wall. I guess he was coming right when I fell onto the floor. I was impressed that he squirted that far so far into our playtime.
I sat down onto the bed next to him. Neither of us said anything for a couple of minutes. Then he said, "That sure was a pathetic little squeak that came out of you when you hit the floor."
I looked at him and we both laughed. After the laughter died down, I could tell that he felt terrible. He said, "I'm so so..." choking up at the end of the sentence. I leaned over and put my head on his shoulder and told him it was ok. He turned to me and put his arms around me to hug me, but I jerked away violently.
"If you touch my tits, I'll swear I'll kill you," I snapped.
At first, Q looked confused, like he couldn't tell if I was joking or not.
Then he flashed a big smile and said, "So, does that mean you don't want to go again?"
"No, thank you," I said politely. "I need to get to the hospital." I proceeded to get dressed and gather my things. As I did it crossed my mind that the room was in his name and he had secured it with his credit card, which means that he would be charged for the damage - the blood-stained carpet, the towels, the blood splatter on the wall. That made me smile, and I wasn't going to say anything to him about it, but I decided that I'd stop at the front desk and let them know what happened. I wouldn't want them calling the police because it looked like someone had been assaulted. I ended up telling him that's what I was going to do.
When the people at the front desk saw my forehead, they wanted to call and ambulance, but I convinced them I could drive. Instead of going to a hospital, I went to my doctor's office which was still open. The drive gave me time to think of an explanation for Hubby. I came up with something believable, and all went well when I finally got home.
What happened with Q? He never called me again and I never called him. But every time I hear a little squeaky sound from a squeeze toy, I think of him and smile.
Q and I had been playing for a couple of hours already when, after a break, he told me to put my hands behind my back. I knew what he was planning, but it was ok because we had talked about it and I trusted him, so I rolled onto my side, toward the edge of the bed and put my hands behind my back. He fastened some leather cuffs onto my wrists and snapped a metal ring, attaching them to each other.
I looked over my shoulder at him and smiled. He told me not to move and he got up to get something out of his bag. He came back with a ball gag and a blindfold.
"Open up," he said, like someone trying to get a toddler to eat something. I opened my mouth and he put the soft ball between my teeth and fastened the headgear tightly. Then he put on the blindfold.
I know I said I trusted him, but at that point I was scared. I felt very vulnerable. What if he wasn't the guy I thought he was? I could hear him moving about the room, going into the bathroom, telling me not to move. I was right on the very edge of the bed and I wanted to scooch backwards a bit, but I knew he was serious about me not moving.
He came to bed and snuggled up to me, spooning right behind me. He kissed my neck, started talking dirty to me, which I l-o-v-e, before playing with and pinching my nipples. After a minute or so, he applied some nipple clamps. They weren't so bad at first, but then he started tightening them up slowly. He'd tighten a little and then wait. Soon, the pain was VERY intense, and I was just about at my limit, but I couldn't use a safe word or tell him to stop. All I could do was try to scream and kick, but he had me very well gagged and his leg was thrown over mine so I couldn't move.
He managed to attach a chain between the clamps. By then, the pain was still extreme, but I was relaxing into it a bit and becoming very turned on by the whole experience.
He pulled the chain between the clamps up to my face and somehow attached it to the gag apparatus. That pulled the chain taut. I moaned. I could hear and feel him reaching for something. It turned out to be lube. In a few seconds, he was sliding his hard cock into my ass, one arm wrapped around my hips to pull me back onto him. He didn't go in slowly and gently. No, he forced himself in me in one driving stroke. Even with the lube, I couldn't help but respond with a muffled yelp and an attempt to wiggle away from him. Of course, there was no escape. He had his arm firmly around me and I was right on the very edge of the bed. If I leaned forward at all, I'd be on the floor. The good thing about the hotel was that it was a very nice classy place. The bad thing was that the bed was high off the ground, not 24 inches off the ground like the cheap motels. If I fell off the bed, it would be l-o-n-g fall.
That's what I was thinking about when he roughly pulled my head back by my hair. As my head went back, the chain to the nipple clamps pulled up and the pain in my ass suddenly disappeared as my nipples felt like they were on fire. I screamed into the gag loudly, but it came out as a pathetic little moan. Wow, I thought, this gag really works well! But I did't think that for long because the pain reached a crescendo where it was all I could think about. All my attention was focused on my tits. I barely noticed that he had started moving again, fucking me, or that he was saying something to me.
I was breathing hard. I finally came to my senses and stopped struggling, knowing that he would release my head if I was good. That's exactly what he did.
"Good girl," he said. "Are you ready to be a good fuck toy?"
I nodded yes slightly, trying not to move the nipple chain much.
"What was that?" he said laughing. He was definitely enjoying this. The truth is I was enjoying it, too. I nodded in a more exaggerated motion, hurting my nipples myself, which is what I know he wanted to see.
"Good girl," he said again, and he redirected his attention back to pumping his thick cock in my ass. He had already cum twice so I suspected this was going to take a little longer than I might have liked, and I was right. Every now and then he'd pull my hair back, I'd squeal in pain, he'd laugh, and then he'd release me and focus back on the fucking. Eventually, he was fucking me so hard and forcefully that I was having trouble staying on the bed. I pushed back against him and tried to roll backwards in between thrusts - all unsuccessfully. I tried to "talk" calmly but loudly to let him know I was trying to say something, but all he would do in response was pull my hair back until I was quiet again.
When you're about to fall three feet off a bed without your arms to break the fall, you start to think strategically I decided I would do everything I could to "be good" so he would't be holding my hair when it happened. That could be very, very bad. I tried to remember where the night stand was. Was it right next to me head, or a few inches further up?
I could feel that he was getting close to coming by the way he was moving and the way his cock had enlarged and hardened just a little bit more. Maybe I'll get lucky, I thought, and he'll cum now and I won't fall.
His final thrust as he came was powerful, launching me off the bed. As I it the ground, I heard a loud THUMP, and a little squeak coming from me. It sounded like the squeak of a carnival cupie doll.
A second later, I heard him shouting, "What the fuck?!" and I was moaning in pain. I hadn't thought about what would happen if I landed on my front side and I fell on those nipple clamps. That pain was competing with a sharp pain coming from my head.
I felt him unfastening the ring between the wrist cuffs. I didn't wait for him to take the cuffs off; I immediately reached underneath myself and pulled off the nipple clamps which sent a shot of pain through me that made me dizzy. I reached up and tore off the blindfold.
That's when I saw the blood.
I pulled off the gag and threw it across the room. I put my hand on my head and sat up to assess the damage. Blood was gushing down my face. I looked at him and saw that he was white as ghost. His mouth was open, but he couldn't speak.
Men are useless in an emergency, I said to myself, and I got up and headed to the bathroom to check out the injury.
Apparently, my head hit the base of the nightstand next to the bed. The base was like a little four inch pedestal for the table so my head hit it at full force and speed as a I fell, before any other part of my body hit the ground. I'm lucky I didn't break my neck.
I looked in the mirror and saw the gash on the left side of my forehead right at hairline. It was about four inches long and pretty deep, which explained all the blood, but it was a pretty clean cut and it was well placed. It was likely that I wouldn't even have a scar, as long as I got to a doctor to get some stitches soon.
I took a look at my breasts as I was cleaning up. My nipples were seriously bruised and still very painful. Damn, I thought, I hope I don't have to explain that.
I managed to clean myself up and slow the bleeding. I held a clean towel (I had already gone through two) against my head and walked back into the room. Q was sitting on the edge of the bed naked, starring into space, right where he was when I left the room. He looked like he was in shock.
I looked at the wall in front of him and there was a thin line of cum on the wall. I guess he was coming right when I fell onto the floor. I was impressed that he squirted that far so far into our playtime.
I sat down onto the bed next to him. Neither of us said anything for a couple of minutes. Then he said, "That sure was a pathetic little squeak that came out of you when you hit the floor."
I looked at him and we both laughed. After the laughter died down, I could tell that he felt terrible. He said, "I'm so so..." choking up at the end of the sentence. I leaned over and put my head on his shoulder and told him it was ok. He turned to me and put his arms around me to hug me, but I jerked away violently.
"If you touch my tits, I'll swear I'll kill you," I snapped.
At first, Q looked confused, like he couldn't tell if I was joking or not.
Then he flashed a big smile and said, "So, does that mean you don't want to go again?"
"No, thank you," I said politely. "I need to get to the hospital." I proceeded to get dressed and gather my things. As I did it crossed my mind that the room was in his name and he had secured it with his credit card, which means that he would be charged for the damage - the blood-stained carpet, the towels, the blood splatter on the wall. That made me smile, and I wasn't going to say anything to him about it, but I decided that I'd stop at the front desk and let them know what happened. I wouldn't want them calling the police because it looked like someone had been assaulted. I ended up telling him that's what I was going to do.
When the people at the front desk saw my forehead, they wanted to call and ambulance, but I convinced them I could drive. Instead of going to a hospital, I went to my doctor's office which was still open. The drive gave me time to think of an explanation for Hubby. I came up with something believable, and all went well when I finally got home.
What happened with Q? He never called me again and I never called him. But every time I hear a little squeaky sound from a squeeze toy, I think of him and smile.
Looks Familiar....
I just had to share this because that gorgeous cock reminds me of JJ, and it's making me want some!
Thanks to Shades of Erotic Poetry for the photo.
Thanks to Shades of Erotic Poetry for the photo.
Monday, March 11, 2013
A Surprise from Cara!
I told you there would be a surprise for you today. Cara hasn't graced us with a photo for a long time, but here she is again, just as gorgeous as ever.
After you get over being speechless at how beautiful she is, leave her a comment to share your thoughts.
Kat's Version of a Sweet Saying
I'm sure you've heard this very sweet little saying before. It's meant to make you feel better if someone leaves you.
Isn't that sweet?
Here's my version for today.
Yeah, I'm working on my attitude.
Isn't that sweet?
Here's my version for today.
Yeah, I'm working on my attitude.
Sunday, March 10, 2013
Sex with an Athlete - March Sex Blog Chain
We have Ryan Beaumont to thank for this month's topic, as well as many others. The official topic is March Madness: Sex with an Athlete.
Since Ryan suggested the topic, it's only fair that Ryan go first. Ryan writes about sex with four athletes, who he calls The Final Four, in his post, One Shining Moment. Then, because he's Ryan and he has to talk about sports, he also gives his final four prediction for the sport that gives the month the title March Madness.
Max, author of Thoughts from a Mystic Satyr, offers The Charity Ride and The Charity Ride (Finale). A long bike ride, a hotel room, a shower - all the makings of a hot encounter. Hey Max, my bike is in disrepair, but do you wanna go for a ride anyway? ;-)
Same Sassy Girl enchants us with her desire for a figure skater. Those guys sure are strong, athletic and graceful. What's not to like?
We have a new participant this month! Cammies on the floor shares Welcome Home with us. This post wins this month's "Must Read" prize because it caught me off guard and made me smile... a lot. Make sure you read it and, while you're there, browse through the rest of the great posts there and subscribe.
My entry for this month is Sex with a Triathlete. I had a few encounters to choose from, including My First Fuck Buddy, who was a baseball player. But when you read about Steve, you'll know why I chose him for this month's topic.
Remember, if you aren't already following and subscribing to these folks, please do, and be sure to comment on their posts. They would love to hear from you!
Take a look at the Sex Blog Chain Page to get links to posts for the past several months (back to June 2012).
If you're a blogger, please feel free to join us. Just send me an email and I'll make sure you get a notice about the next month's topic and deadline. The more the merrier!
Our topic for April is Spring Break. Posts can be about sex over spring break or sex in the springtime, in general. Have you had sex in the rain (April showers)? Tell us about it. Have you had sex outdoors in a garden? Or with a teacher on spring break? While doing your spring cleaning? Anytime at all in the months of March, April and May? The topic is pretty open.
***********************************
I was going to wait and not tell you about this, Prowlers, but I just can't. There will a be a big surprise here for you tomorrow. Trust me, you'll want to see it, so be sure to check back after noon Pacific time.
Since Ryan suggested the topic, it's only fair that Ryan go first. Ryan writes about sex with four athletes, who he calls The Final Four, in his post, One Shining Moment. Then, because he's Ryan and he has to talk about sports, he also gives his final four prediction for the sport that gives the month the title March Madness.
Max, author of Thoughts from a Mystic Satyr, offers The Charity Ride and The Charity Ride (Finale). A long bike ride, a hotel room, a shower - all the makings of a hot encounter. Hey Max, my bike is in disrepair, but do you wanna go for a ride anyway? ;-)
Same Sassy Girl enchants us with her desire for a figure skater. Those guys sure are strong, athletic and graceful. What's not to like?
We have a new participant this month! Cammies on the floor shares Welcome Home with us. This post wins this month's "Must Read" prize because it caught me off guard and made me smile... a lot. Make sure you read it and, while you're there, browse through the rest of the great posts there and subscribe.
My entry for this month is Sex with a Triathlete. I had a few encounters to choose from, including My First Fuck Buddy, who was a baseball player. But when you read about Steve, you'll know why I chose him for this month's topic.
Remember, if you aren't already following and subscribing to these folks, please do, and be sure to comment on their posts. They would love to hear from you!
Take a look at the Sex Blog Chain Page to get links to posts for the past several months (back to June 2012).
If you're a blogger, please feel free to join us. Just send me an email and I'll make sure you get a notice about the next month's topic and deadline. The more the merrier!
Our topic for April is Spring Break. Posts can be about sex over spring break or sex in the springtime, in general. Have you had sex in the rain (April showers)? Tell us about it. Have you had sex outdoors in a garden? Or with a teacher on spring break? While doing your spring cleaning? Anytime at all in the months of March, April and May? The topic is pretty open.
***********************************
I was going to wait and not tell you about this, Prowlers, but I just can't. There will a be a big surprise here for you tomorrow. Trust me, you'll want to see it, so be sure to check back after noon Pacific time.
Sex with a Triathlete
I shared with you last fall that Steve was a competitive triathlete. Those of you who have ever been involved with triathlons know the commitment to training and discipline that are required to participate in such a demanding sport, let alone be competitive. Having participated in a few myself in 2005, I knew exactly what was involved, but Steve was at a completely different level.
He was in amazing condition, not only for a man in his 60's but for a man of any age. A "short" run for him was a 10K. A century bike ride was pure fun for him and a 20 mile ride was a quick lunchtime workout. And after these intense workouts, he'd go back to work or get on with other responsibilities, errands, etc. He was one of those people with almost no body fat and whose every muscle was clearly defined.
Yeah. Wow.
We had met several times for coffee and once for lunch before we got together privately. He was an old school gentleman, No sex on the first (or second, or third, or fourth) date. I used to poke fun at him about that because, in my experience, the rules are a bit different in the infidelity world, but it was really important to him that I know that he genuinely cared about me. It was very sweet.
By the time we did meet for some intimate activity, I was ready. He was ready. We were both ready.
He was already in the room when I arrived at the hotel. He texted me the room number and I headed toward the elevator to go up. I was struck with a bout of nervousness in the elevator, almost out of the blue. It didn't make any sense to me because we had been together and talked so much that I was very comfortable with him, but I was nervous nonetheless.
When I got to the room, I knocked on the door and waited. No answer. I checked my phone for the text he sent. Did I have the right room? Yes, I did. I knocked again.
This time he answered. My nervousness melted away when I saw the big smile on his face. He reached out his hand and I took it. He gently pulled me into the room and closed the door behind me. Then he kissed me - a long, deep, passionate kiss that seemed to last forever.
Eventually, we moved further into the room and that's when I noticed why he was late answering the door. There were candles lit around the room and a bottle of sparkling cider in the ice bucket next to to two beautiful crystal glasses. Several vases of roses were placed around the room and there was a single red rose on the bed.
Yeah. Wow.
While I've known some truly wonderful men and I've almost always been treated well, this was definitely not the way I was used to being treated by a lover. I'll admit it - it took my breath away. I was speechless. Yes, me. Speechless.
I suspect his plan was to talk a bit first, have a little sparkling cider, milk the romance for awhile, but that's not how it went down. We sat down on the edge of the bed and started kissing again and before I knew it, the gentleman was gone, and clothes were coming off and being tossed aside quickly.
We stretched out on the bed and his hand found my pussy and started rubbing my clit. It felt electric. I flinched and squealed a bit which made him smile into our kiss. He had been kissing me the whole time that we had been undressing so I still hadn't really seen him yet. Every time I reached for his cock, he shifted away. I had no idea what that was about but I couldn't think about it for long because I was just about ready to cum. Just as I started to shudder, he stopped. WTF??!!???
He told me to get on my hands and knees. I flipped. I was ready, hoping he wouldn't dilly dally too long.
He entered me slowly. Very, very slowly. My jaw dropped. I gasped.
"Are you ok?" he asked.
I was speechless again. I just nodded. The he started slowly fucking me with long, deep strokes.
I'd never been asked before if I was ok when a man entered me, but it was obvious to me why he asked. Steve had the biggest cock I'd ever experienced. 10" and very, very thick. I came on about the fifth stroke.
He asked if I could take more, take it harder. All I said was, "Yes," but I was thinking, "Is the Pope Catholic? Bring it on!"
For the next 50 minutes, Steve proceeded to fuck me, sometimes hard and fast, sometimes slow and sensuously. Sometimes he'd play with my clit, too. Sometimes not. He moved from my pussy to my mouth to ass and back again. I think we changed positions every five minutes or so.
I came five more times. I was honestly amazed at his stamina and control. That's when I understood the special advantages of being with a triathlete - stamina and discipline. He could control his body like no one I'd ever met.
He chose the missionary position and looked into my eyes when he finally came. It was intense. He lingered for a minute or so, kissing me, before he pulled out and collapsed onto the bed next to me.
I looked over at him at got my first really good look at him. I traced my fingers over the muscles on his arms and his abs. He was definitely chiseled. His huge cock was still partially hard. As I looked at him and remembered how amazing he was over the last hour, I thought, "What the hell is wrong with his wife???" Exceptionally nice guy, genuinely good and kind man, amazing body, a cock that most women would do just about anything to have inside them at least once, generous in bed, and able to go and go and go like the energizer bunny. Seriously, it made no sense to me why a woman would not want to have sex with this man.
Anyway, we relaxed in bed, kissing and talking. He filled me in on his upcoming race schedule. I was planning to go watch, but I'd have to be careful because his wife would be there, too. No problem. We talked about his business and mine. We checked the clock to make sure we didn't let time get away from us because we both had to get back to work, and we were pleasantly surprised that we still had another hour to spend together.
Then Steve smiled and said, "Wanna go again?"
He was in amazing condition, not only for a man in his 60's but for a man of any age. A "short" run for him was a 10K. A century bike ride was pure fun for him and a 20 mile ride was a quick lunchtime workout. And after these intense workouts, he'd go back to work or get on with other responsibilities, errands, etc. He was one of those people with almost no body fat and whose every muscle was clearly defined.
Yeah. Wow.
We had met several times for coffee and once for lunch before we got together privately. He was an old school gentleman, No sex on the first (or second, or third, or fourth) date. I used to poke fun at him about that because, in my experience, the rules are a bit different in the infidelity world, but it was really important to him that I know that he genuinely cared about me. It was very sweet.
By the time we did meet for some intimate activity, I was ready. He was ready. We were both ready.
He was already in the room when I arrived at the hotel. He texted me the room number and I headed toward the elevator to go up. I was struck with a bout of nervousness in the elevator, almost out of the blue. It didn't make any sense to me because we had been together and talked so much that I was very comfortable with him, but I was nervous nonetheless.
When I got to the room, I knocked on the door and waited. No answer. I checked my phone for the text he sent. Did I have the right room? Yes, I did. I knocked again.
This time he answered. My nervousness melted away when I saw the big smile on his face. He reached out his hand and I took it. He gently pulled me into the room and closed the door behind me. Then he kissed me - a long, deep, passionate kiss that seemed to last forever.
Eventually, we moved further into the room and that's when I noticed why he was late answering the door. There were candles lit around the room and a bottle of sparkling cider in the ice bucket next to to two beautiful crystal glasses. Several vases of roses were placed around the room and there was a single red rose on the bed.
Yeah. Wow.
While I've known some truly wonderful men and I've almost always been treated well, this was definitely not the way I was used to being treated by a lover. I'll admit it - it took my breath away. I was speechless. Yes, me. Speechless.
I suspect his plan was to talk a bit first, have a little sparkling cider, milk the romance for awhile, but that's not how it went down. We sat down on the edge of the bed and started kissing again and before I knew it, the gentleman was gone, and clothes were coming off and being tossed aside quickly.
We stretched out on the bed and his hand found my pussy and started rubbing my clit. It felt electric. I flinched and squealed a bit which made him smile into our kiss. He had been kissing me the whole time that we had been undressing so I still hadn't really seen him yet. Every time I reached for his cock, he shifted away. I had no idea what that was about but I couldn't think about it for long because I was just about ready to cum. Just as I started to shudder, he stopped. WTF??!!???
He told me to get on my hands and knees. I flipped. I was ready, hoping he wouldn't dilly dally too long.
He entered me slowly. Very, very slowly. My jaw dropped. I gasped.
"Are you ok?" he asked.
I was speechless again. I just nodded. The he started slowly fucking me with long, deep strokes.
I'd never been asked before if I was ok when a man entered me, but it was obvious to me why he asked. Steve had the biggest cock I'd ever experienced. 10" and very, very thick. I came on about the fifth stroke.
He asked if I could take more, take it harder. All I said was, "Yes," but I was thinking, "Is the Pope Catholic? Bring it on!"
For the next 50 minutes, Steve proceeded to fuck me, sometimes hard and fast, sometimes slow and sensuously. Sometimes he'd play with my clit, too. Sometimes not. He moved from my pussy to my mouth to ass and back again. I think we changed positions every five minutes or so.
I came five more times. I was honestly amazed at his stamina and control. That's when I understood the special advantages of being with a triathlete - stamina and discipline. He could control his body like no one I'd ever met.
He chose the missionary position and looked into my eyes when he finally came. It was intense. He lingered for a minute or so, kissing me, before he pulled out and collapsed onto the bed next to me.
I looked over at him at got my first really good look at him. I traced my fingers over the muscles on his arms and his abs. He was definitely chiseled. His huge cock was still partially hard. As I looked at him and remembered how amazing he was over the last hour, I thought, "What the hell is wrong with his wife???" Exceptionally nice guy, genuinely good and kind man, amazing body, a cock that most women would do just about anything to have inside them at least once, generous in bed, and able to go and go and go like the energizer bunny. Seriously, it made no sense to me why a woman would not want to have sex with this man.
Anyway, we relaxed in bed, kissing and talking. He filled me in on his upcoming race schedule. I was planning to go watch, but I'd have to be careful because his wife would be there, too. No problem. We talked about his business and mine. We checked the clock to make sure we didn't let time get away from us because we both had to get back to work, and we were pleasantly surprised that we still had another hour to spend together.
Then Steve smiled and said, "Wanna go again?"
Would Anyone Like to Check In?
Maybe I should start handing out badges for men who check-in at my "special place." And I could have special ones for every five check-ins. What do you think?
Saturday, March 9, 2013
The Morality of the Kat Haters
As you can imagine, I get lots of email. Most of it is very nice and some is very naughty. Some of it is hate mail. Apparently, there are people out there who have the time to write to obscure sex bloggers to tell them they are going to hell, to threaten them with exposure or violence, or to tell them how pathetic and immoral they are.
I read everything and I do my best, although not always successfully, to respond to every nice and naughty message. I usually ignore the hateful and threatening ones. Sometimes I reply and thank them for sharing their thoughts, but I usually only do that when I'm in a bitchy mood and I want to piss them off. Nothing angers the hateful folks like kindness.
Most of the Kat haters, as I like to call them, seem to be mostly upset because of how immoral I am, in their opinion. I'm not even going to try to make a case for the morality of infidelity. I never have. I'm not trying to convince anyone else to cheat on their spouse. I've never done that either.
Who am I? I'm just a middle-aged woman who loves sex, has had lots of it, likes to write, writes about sex pretty well, and knows enough about cheating to share some tips with others who don't want to get caught. I love my family, I work hard, and when I get a chance, I play hard, too. Big deal. Generally speaking, I'm a nice, fairly boring, church-going wife and mother. By far, the worst sin I've committed, for those who want to call it that, is adultery. I haven't killed anyone, I don't beat or neglect my children, and I am always kind to animals.
I often wonder if the folks so outraged by my immorality write hate mail to murderers, arsonists, thieves, child abusers, rapists, liars, themselves - other people who have committed immoral acts. Probably not. Then why am I so special?
I'm pretty sure it's because they see themselves or their spouse in me. Either they've cheated before, they are cheating now, or they want to. Usually if you're pointing your finger at someone, there are three other fingers pointing right back at yourself. Maybe cursing at me helps them reinforce their own resolve.
Or maybe they are so hurt by the infidelity of their spouse that they lash out at me because I'm safe. I won't leave them or try to get custody of the kids or take the house.
The thing that bothers me about the version of morality espoused by the Kat haters is that they have assigned a "sin value" to infidelity/adultery and determined that it is worse than anything they have ever done or would do. That's simply not my perspective. If we want to get religious about it, the Bible clearly says that all sin is equally bad, except for that one deadly sin - which is not adultery, by the way. If you're screaming about infidelity as if it's worse than the cheating you just did on your taxes or the slap you gave your son last night or the lie you told to your wife because you wanted to spend a few more minutes at the bar, you have no Biblical basis for that. You have simply made it up and created your own morality hierarchy. That's up to you, of course, but don't pretend your view is aligned with some "higher authority." It's not.
From a humanistic point of view, murder, rape, assault, and any crime against a child would be considered worse than infidelity. Hurting someone else in anyway is always bad, and yes, that includes hurting a spouse. Like I said, I can't defend the morality of infidelity, but faux-piety makes me ill. It really does.
Here's the bottom line - Whether or not I am moral or immoral, or if infidelity is worse that the sins you have committed or not, if I or PWK offends you, don't read it.
You can choose not to expose yourself to the immoral descriptions of incredibly satisfying sex that you are probably not having.
I read everything and I do my best, although not always successfully, to respond to every nice and naughty message. I usually ignore the hateful and threatening ones. Sometimes I reply and thank them for sharing their thoughts, but I usually only do that when I'm in a bitchy mood and I want to piss them off. Nothing angers the hateful folks like kindness.
Most of the Kat haters, as I like to call them, seem to be mostly upset because of how immoral I am, in their opinion. I'm not even going to try to make a case for the morality of infidelity. I never have. I'm not trying to convince anyone else to cheat on their spouse. I've never done that either.
Who am I? I'm just a middle-aged woman who loves sex, has had lots of it, likes to write, writes about sex pretty well, and knows enough about cheating to share some tips with others who don't want to get caught. I love my family, I work hard, and when I get a chance, I play hard, too. Big deal. Generally speaking, I'm a nice, fairly boring, church-going wife and mother. By far, the worst sin I've committed, for those who want to call it that, is adultery. I haven't killed anyone, I don't beat or neglect my children, and I am always kind to animals.
I often wonder if the folks so outraged by my immorality write hate mail to murderers, arsonists, thieves, child abusers, rapists, liars, themselves - other people who have committed immoral acts. Probably not. Then why am I so special?
I'm pretty sure it's because they see themselves or their spouse in me. Either they've cheated before, they are cheating now, or they want to. Usually if you're pointing your finger at someone, there are three other fingers pointing right back at yourself. Maybe cursing at me helps them reinforce their own resolve.
Or maybe they are so hurt by the infidelity of their spouse that they lash out at me because I'm safe. I won't leave them or try to get custody of the kids or take the house.
The thing that bothers me about the version of morality espoused by the Kat haters is that they have assigned a "sin value" to infidelity/adultery and determined that it is worse than anything they have ever done or would do. That's simply not my perspective. If we want to get religious about it, the Bible clearly says that all sin is equally bad, except for that one deadly sin - which is not adultery, by the way. If you're screaming about infidelity as if it's worse than the cheating you just did on your taxes or the slap you gave your son last night or the lie you told to your wife because you wanted to spend a few more minutes at the bar, you have no Biblical basis for that. You have simply made it up and created your own morality hierarchy. That's up to you, of course, but don't pretend your view is aligned with some "higher authority." It's not.
From a humanistic point of view, murder, rape, assault, and any crime against a child would be considered worse than infidelity. Hurting someone else in anyway is always bad, and yes, that includes hurting a spouse. Like I said, I can't defend the morality of infidelity, but faux-piety makes me ill. It really does.
Here's the bottom line - Whether or not I am moral or immoral, or if infidelity is worse that the sins you have committed or not, if I or PWK offends you, don't read it.
You can choose not to expose yourself to the immoral descriptions of incredibly satisfying sex that you are probably not having.
Friday, March 8, 2013
The Love Seat
There's a love seat in my office that used to be in one of the spare offices in the building. Recently, we moved it into my office, and every time I look at it, a memory comes rushing back of one of the very good times I enjoyed on it.
This morning, out of the blue, a memory flashed through my brain of a Saturday afternoon with one of my favorites who has since become a very good friend.
WebCam Guy is unlike anyone else I have ever been with. Quiet, but not shy. Extremely smart and well educated, but not arrogant. Very private, but also very giving. Good looking, but not conceited. Sexy as hell, but he acts like he doesn't know it.
And paranoid. Very paranoid. I talked to him recently and I liked the way he put it. The price was just too high. He was paranoid because he couldn't bear the price he might have to pay if he got caught. I get it. Eventually, that's what ended it. And that's ok.
Anyway, he walked into my office that Saturday wearing jeans, a golf shirt and a light jacket. I reached out to hug him and I got a hug in return and little peck of a kiss on the lips. WebCam Guy is not a kisser. Normally, that would be a deal breaker for me, but by the time I learned he wasn't a kisser, I was already quite enamored with him. Once we were relaxing together after a very sweet play session and I told him I was going to turn him into a kisser eventually. He just smiled and shook his head and said, "No, you're not," and I knew he meant it.
That smile! Some people, like me, just run around with their hearts on their sleeves and their emotions are right under the surface, popping up at any time. Not him. To get a smile out of him is to have earned it. It means something more than it does with most other people. Every time he smiled at me, I wanted to yell, "Score!" but that would have ruined the mood, wouldn't it?
Back to that Saturday....after he came in we walked back to the spare office and sat on the love seat. There was some kissing (mostly me) and lots of touching. I reach down and started unbuckling his belt, then unfastening his pants. He stood up then and took off his jacket, shirt, shoes, pants, everything.....so efficient. Then he sat back down.
Ok, I thought. Let's get right to it.
I knelt in front of him and took his stiffening cock into my mouth. It was hard as a rock within about 10 seconds. His has a truly beautiful cock - average length, maybe a shade longer than average, but well above average in thickness, and perfectly shaped. I quickly started pulling my pants and panties off while I sucked him because I knew I wanted him inside me right then. Not later. At that very moment.
As soon as my pants were off, I got up and straddled him, sliding his cock inside me slowly, tilting my hips a bit forward to see if I could get him in just the right.....ahhhh.......there it was. Damn, he felt good. His thickness filled me nicely.
I started rocking forward and back on him, grinding against him. I looked down at him as I rode him. He was so handsome and he had an absolutely gorgeous chest.
Let me tell you about his chest. Strong, hairy, and attached to equally strong shoulders. It's beautiful. He gave me a picture of his naked upper body once (because I asked and harassed him until he did) and that photo is still my favorite of any picture that any man has ever given me. Seriously.
So that was the chest I was looking at as I started to feel an orgasm coming when he said, almost shouting, "Get off!"
In the heat of the moment, I had forgotten that we weren't using a condom and I was not using any other form of birth control at the time. Thank God he didn't forget.
As soon as he yelled at me to get off, I jumped off just as he was coming, and a spurt of cum leaped up in the air. I dropped back to my knees quickly and swallowed his cock again before a second spurt could erupt, and he came and came and came...and came in my mouth. I swallowed repeatedly and waited until I was sure he was finished, then I got busy with the clean up, licking up all the cum that escaped before I could get my lips around his cock. I took my time, licking his belly and thighs for what seemed like a long, long time.
After, I turned and sat on the floor next to his legs. He was still laying back on the love seat. It was quiet for a long time. I'm used to hearing either praise and thanks right after or something like, "Uh, I gotta go," but he was just quiet. That can be pretty unsettling, but I knew that was just how he is. And it was nice. I leaned how nice it can be to just share a moment without filling it up with chatter.
I noticed that he never got completely soft after he came and within a minute or so, he was hard again. Wow. That's record recovery time, I thought.
Suddenly, he stood up and said, "Get up." I did, and he stood behind me. I got it. I spread my legs a bit and leaned over the love seat, putting one hand on the seat cushion and one hand on the back of the love seat. I had barely positioned myself when he slid inside me from behind. I came in no time. He wasn't far behind. He pulled out and sat down next to me again. I was ok with the silence this time because I was still shuddering, still a bit dizzy, still feeling the pleasure pulsing through my whole body.
We talked a bit and then it was time for him to go. We both dressed. He gave me a hug. I kissed him gently on the neck, and he left. I sat down on the love seat for a few minutes, just thinking about him and what had transpired before I got back to work.
WebCam Guy is still in my life. Maybe one of these days I'll share with you why I call him WebCam Guy, but you can probably guess. Still, there are some amusing stories that go with it. He's still in my life and he's a dear friend. He is one of the first I really opened my heart to and that love hasn't gone away, although it has changed form a bit.
We never know how things are going to turn out, do we? What started as a simple message exchange on AM between two people who were primarily just looking for a little passion turned out to be something much better and more lasting than an affair.
Love comes in lots of forms if you're paying attention.
This morning, out of the blue, a memory flashed through my brain of a Saturday afternoon with one of my favorites who has since become a very good friend.
WebCam Guy is unlike anyone else I have ever been with. Quiet, but not shy. Extremely smart and well educated, but not arrogant. Very private, but also very giving. Good looking, but not conceited. Sexy as hell, but he acts like he doesn't know it.
And paranoid. Very paranoid. I talked to him recently and I liked the way he put it. The price was just too high. He was paranoid because he couldn't bear the price he might have to pay if he got caught. I get it. Eventually, that's what ended it. And that's ok.
Anyway, he walked into my office that Saturday wearing jeans, a golf shirt and a light jacket. I reached out to hug him and I got a hug in return and little peck of a kiss on the lips. WebCam Guy is not a kisser. Normally, that would be a deal breaker for me, but by the time I learned he wasn't a kisser, I was already quite enamored with him. Once we were relaxing together after a very sweet play session and I told him I was going to turn him into a kisser eventually. He just smiled and shook his head and said, "No, you're not," and I knew he meant it.
That smile! Some people, like me, just run around with their hearts on their sleeves and their emotions are right under the surface, popping up at any time. Not him. To get a smile out of him is to have earned it. It means something more than it does with most other people. Every time he smiled at me, I wanted to yell, "Score!" but that would have ruined the mood, wouldn't it?
Back to that Saturday....after he came in we walked back to the spare office and sat on the love seat. There was some kissing (mostly me) and lots of touching. I reach down and started unbuckling his belt, then unfastening his pants. He stood up then and took off his jacket, shirt, shoes, pants, everything.....so efficient. Then he sat back down.
Ok, I thought. Let's get right to it.
I knelt in front of him and took his stiffening cock into my mouth. It was hard as a rock within about 10 seconds. His has a truly beautiful cock - average length, maybe a shade longer than average, but well above average in thickness, and perfectly shaped. I quickly started pulling my pants and panties off while I sucked him because I knew I wanted him inside me right then. Not later. At that very moment.
As soon as my pants were off, I got up and straddled him, sliding his cock inside me slowly, tilting my hips a bit forward to see if I could get him in just the right.....ahhhh.......there it was. Damn, he felt good. His thickness filled me nicely.
I started rocking forward and back on him, grinding against him. I looked down at him as I rode him. He was so handsome and he had an absolutely gorgeous chest.
Let me tell you about his chest. Strong, hairy, and attached to equally strong shoulders. It's beautiful. He gave me a picture of his naked upper body once (because I asked and harassed him until he did) and that photo is still my favorite of any picture that any man has ever given me. Seriously.
So that was the chest I was looking at as I started to feel an orgasm coming when he said, almost shouting, "Get off!"
In the heat of the moment, I had forgotten that we weren't using a condom and I was not using any other form of birth control at the time. Thank God he didn't forget.
As soon as he yelled at me to get off, I jumped off just as he was coming, and a spurt of cum leaped up in the air. I dropped back to my knees quickly and swallowed his cock again before a second spurt could erupt, and he came and came and came...and came in my mouth. I swallowed repeatedly and waited until I was sure he was finished, then I got busy with the clean up, licking up all the cum that escaped before I could get my lips around his cock. I took my time, licking his belly and thighs for what seemed like a long, long time.
After, I turned and sat on the floor next to his legs. He was still laying back on the love seat. It was quiet for a long time. I'm used to hearing either praise and thanks right after or something like, "Uh, I gotta go," but he was just quiet. That can be pretty unsettling, but I knew that was just how he is. And it was nice. I leaned how nice it can be to just share a moment without filling it up with chatter.
I noticed that he never got completely soft after he came and within a minute or so, he was hard again. Wow. That's record recovery time, I thought.
Suddenly, he stood up and said, "Get up." I did, and he stood behind me. I got it. I spread my legs a bit and leaned over the love seat, putting one hand on the seat cushion and one hand on the back of the love seat. I had barely positioned myself when he slid inside me from behind. I came in no time. He wasn't far behind. He pulled out and sat down next to me again. I was ok with the silence this time because I was still shuddering, still a bit dizzy, still feeling the pleasure pulsing through my whole body.
We talked a bit and then it was time for him to go. We both dressed. He gave me a hug. I kissed him gently on the neck, and he left. I sat down on the love seat for a few minutes, just thinking about him and what had transpired before I got back to work.
WebCam Guy is still in my life. Maybe one of these days I'll share with you why I call him WebCam Guy, but you can probably guess. Still, there are some amusing stories that go with it. He's still in my life and he's a dear friend. He is one of the first I really opened my heart to and that love hasn't gone away, although it has changed form a bit.
We never know how things are going to turn out, do we? What started as a simple message exchange on AM between two people who were primarily just looking for a little passion turned out to be something much better and more lasting than an affair.
Love comes in lots of forms if you're paying attention.
No More DauntlessD
You may have noticed that Dauntless D, my blog partner and close friend, is no longer listed as an admin for PWK, and you certainly cannot have missed the fact that he hasn't written in many, many months. You won't see him here anymore. He has decided to move on.
More specifically, he has a new girlfriend and he has rekindled his faith and both of those have required that he let go of PWK.....and anyone associated with it. Yes, that includes me, too. We were best friends for a couple of years, but now he won't have any contact of any kind with me because the girlfriend doesn't want him to and because, according to another friend of his, I am "depraved."
I didn't hear that from him, of course, because he couldn't even speak to me to tell me that I wasn't good enough for his new lifestyle. We've been through a lot together, but he couldn't even say goodbye or give me a chance to have some closure.
What would I say?
Well, some of what I would say is about relative morality, but I'll share that in another post because it deserves it's own space. I would also remind him that he said this would never happen. I'd remind him how he asked me to stop him if he ever gave up too much of himself and his own life to a woman, particularly so soon after his separation from his wife.
I'd tell him that judging me when he's engaged in sex outside of marriage with his girlfriend is pure hypocrisy and it should bother him that no one else is saying that to him and he's shutting out the only person who ever would give him the straight up truth.
I'd tell him that I thought he was better than this and that I certainly deserve better. I'd tell him that refusing to communicate with me even to tell me about his decision is a coward's way out.
I'd remind him of the string of people in his life he's walked away from and I'd ask him how he expects this to turn out any differently.
I'd remind him that real friends are hard to find and that to throw that aside for a piece of pussy who isn't who she is representing herself to be is foolish and shortsighted.
But I'd also wish him well. I'd thank him for all the times he was there for me when I really needed him. I'd thank him for the laughs and lunches and books we shared. I'd thank him for making room in his life for me, even though he ultimately chose to walk away.
I'd tell him that I will always be here for him and, yes, I'll be here when her real colors shine through and she leaves.
I'd tell him that I miss him.
I'd tell him that I hope his life turns out exactly as he wants it to.
I'd tell him I love him.
More specifically, he has a new girlfriend and he has rekindled his faith and both of those have required that he let go of PWK.....and anyone associated with it. Yes, that includes me, too. We were best friends for a couple of years, but now he won't have any contact of any kind with me because the girlfriend doesn't want him to and because, according to another friend of his, I am "depraved."
I didn't hear that from him, of course, because he couldn't even speak to me to tell me that I wasn't good enough for his new lifestyle. We've been through a lot together, but he couldn't even say goodbye or give me a chance to have some closure.
What would I say?
Well, some of what I would say is about relative morality, but I'll share that in another post because it deserves it's own space. I would also remind him that he said this would never happen. I'd remind him how he asked me to stop him if he ever gave up too much of himself and his own life to a woman, particularly so soon after his separation from his wife.
I'd tell him that judging me when he's engaged in sex outside of marriage with his girlfriend is pure hypocrisy and it should bother him that no one else is saying that to him and he's shutting out the only person who ever would give him the straight up truth.
I'd tell him that I thought he was better than this and that I certainly deserve better. I'd tell him that refusing to communicate with me even to tell me about his decision is a coward's way out.
I'd remind him of the string of people in his life he's walked away from and I'd ask him how he expects this to turn out any differently.
I'd remind him that real friends are hard to find and that to throw that aside for a piece of pussy who isn't who she is representing herself to be is foolish and shortsighted.
But I'd also wish him well. I'd thank him for all the times he was there for me when I really needed him. I'd thank him for the laughs and lunches and books we shared. I'd thank him for making room in his life for me, even though he ultimately chose to walk away.
I'd tell him that I will always be here for him and, yes, I'll be here when her real colors shine through and she leaves.
I'd tell him that I miss him.
I'd tell him that I hope his life turns out exactly as he wants it to.
I'd tell him I love him.
Thursday, March 7, 2013
FFF - Sister Marie
She tried to hurry through her chores for the rest of the day, but there were some things she couldn't speed up. The convent dinner. Evening prayers. As the only novice in the convent, she had extra chores that would have been shared by others if there had been any other novices. Sometimes she hated having to bear the burden alone, but other times she enjoyed being alone, and it was during these times when she was alone that the Cardinal had started to call for her a few times a week.
She went to the church a few minutes early and found a pew in the middle, as instructed. She waited. When she first walked in, she thought it was perfectly silent, but as she sat there, she realized she could hear many noises - the bats outside in the eaves, cars on the street, the creaking and cracking of the old building, distant voices and laughter from the pub down the block. Then she heard footsteps.
She didn't move. She waited silently as the footsteps drew closer. They stopped as the Cardinal eased into the pew behind her.
"You know this is the last time we'll be together for several weeks. You understand that I'll be leaving tomorrow for the Papal Conclave, yes? " he whispered.
She nodded yes, remembering that she had been instructed never to speak.
"If I become Pope, I won't be able to.....visit....you like this anymore. You understand that, don't you?"
She nodded again.
"Would you like me assign someone to come and visit you regularly?"
She paused and then nodded again.
"Good. Now stand up, take off your clothes and stand in the center of the aisle."
She moved quickly, complying with his order as fast as she could, leaving her pumps on as he had told her she must always do. As she was undressing, he pulled up his cassock and motioned for her to come over and kneel in front of him. She did, of course, and she took his manhood into her mouth as she had done dozens of times before. She loved the way he stroked her hair gently while she sucked him and how he told her how special she was as he came in her mouth.
She stayed kneeling in front of him for a while after. Now the silence really did sound like silence. She couldn't hear anything except his breathing and hers.
After a few minutes he told her stand again in the aisle. He stood and retrieved some rope from a bag and proceeded to bind her ankles together. Then her hands.
He touched her breasts gently, pinching her nipples as he said, "I'll tell Father Evan to come and untie you just before dawn. Until then, you are stay right here, just as you are now. Do you understand?"
Sister Marie nodded.
"Good. Don't forget to thank Father Evan properly before you get dressed."
She nodded again.
Cardinal Scola backed away and lifted his hand in front of her. She couldn't kneel, so she leaned over at the waist and kissed his ring.
"Goodnight, Sister," he whispered just before he turned and walked toward the door, his footsteps reverberating loudly in the expansive church. When he reached the door, he turned to look at her one more time, wondering if this would be the last time he would get to see her like this.
He brushed a tear from his cheek and walked out the door.
*****************************************
Fast Fiction Friday (FFF) posts are supposed to be limited in size. This week, they were supposed to be 200 words. Oops. Mine is 650 words, but that's the way it is.
If you'd like to read the other FFF posts, responding to the same photo and prompt, click here. And if you like what you read, subscribe to those blogs and let those bloggers know how you feel.
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
How's the Weather Back There?
Hubby and I had been planning sex for a few days, but every night something or someone intervened and ruined our plans. The night before last, it was me. I fell sleep. It happens.
Last night, though, it looked like it was actually going to happen. I was finished with my shower and I pulled out Spartacus and cleaned him up, just in case. Hubby checked on our youngest and locked up the house.
He climbed into bed and we both slid toward the center of the bed until we met. Our legs intertwined as we kissed. I could feel us both relaxing, releasing the stress of the day. In the last couple of years he's gone from being a non-kisser to an o.k. kisser. At least he was willing to try.
He reached over and grabbed some lube, put some on his hand, and slid his hand between my legs. There was absolutely not need for it, but I didn't say anything. Why spoil his fun?
I reached over and grabbed Spartacus. Hubby smiled, kissed me again, and pulled his hand up to my right breast while be started kissing my left. I pushed the button on the vibe and slid it through the slickness to my clit. The intensity made me flinch. He checkled and then reached back for some more lube. I was wondering what he was thinking until I realized it was the peppermint lube he was holding and then dribbling on my nipples. Then he went after my tits hungrily, lapping and sucking on one, then the other, then back again.
I turned up the speed on Spartacus and was just about cum when he said, "Is it raining yet? Do you know?"
"What?" I asked, confused.
"Do you know if it has started raining, yet?" As soon as he finished the question, his mouth went back to work on my nipple.
My hand stopped moving.
"Seriously?" I said. "You really want to talk about the weather right now? NOW?!"
This struck me as such a great example of sex in a long term marriage. Sometimes you're into it. Sometimes you're not. It's not unusual to think about other things but saying them out loud during the act is a bit rude. Unfortunately, that's how married couples can be to each other sometimes. We forget about the other person's feelings because we're so wrapped up in ourselves at times. I was pretty sure, though, that he wouldn't want to talk about the weather when it was "his turn."
He apologized and we got refocused. But now I couldn't cum. Every time I was close I started thinking about the weather. No lie. UGH!
So I faked it. I hate doing that. I rarely do. But I did. I figured I'd take care of myself later, if I needed to and I was pretty much not into it anymore anyway.
Since I was "done," he wanted his so I scooted down and took his cock into my mouth.
What a minute!" I said. "Where's that peppermint lube? I want some!"
He laughed and tossed it to me. I told him that I wanted to watch him put it on. There's something very sexy about watching a man slowly stroke himself. I leaned back and watched, twice telling him, "More...."
When I was ready, I took him in my mouth and started sucking him slowly, moaning with a girl-like glee as I lapped up the peppermint lube. It wasn't long before he tapped my shoulder and told me to turn around.
I got upon my hands and knees and looked back at him. He grabbed my hips and slid his cock inside me. Ohmygod it felt SO good! Usually when we get to this stage, I've already cum once, but this time I was still horny and I wanted it badly, so I started rocking back against him right away.
I thought I was going to cum, but then I heard it. The rain. I could hear the rain on the roof. Then I couldn't stop laughing and I asked him, "Can't you hear the rain?"
"No," he answered. "And stop laughing. Don't you know it's just wrong to laugh when you're in bed with a man." He was still pumping me while he said that, and I was still laughing.
When I could tell he was about 15 seconds from cumming, I looked back at him and said, "Hey! How's the weather back there?" By then I was laughing hysterically and there was no way I could stop.
Hubby groaned loudly, slapped my ass HARD and growled, "Dammit, Kat!" He reached forward and pushed my face into the pillow, which just made me laugh harder. Then he grabbed my hips with both hands and went at me hard and fast until he came. I popped my head up and said, "Don't you wanna talk about the weather?" and he threw another pillow at my head.
"Having a good time?" he asked as he climbed off the bed and grabbed a washcloth to clean up with. "Yes, I am," I said between bursts of laughter. "This is better than sex!"
He just shook his head and walked into the bathroom. I saw his shoulders shaking as he laughed while walked away.
By the time he came back to bed, I was done laughing, but I was still smiling. He crawled into bed, kissed me and we snuggled up together.
He whispered into my ear, "So, is it supposed to rain tomorrow?" We both started howling, laughing as quietly as we could, pressing our mouths against each other to smother the sound so it wouldn't wake up the boys.
We fell asleep like that, tightly held in each other's arms with smiles on our faces.
Last night, though, it looked like it was actually going to happen. I was finished with my shower and I pulled out Spartacus and cleaned him up, just in case. Hubby checked on our youngest and locked up the house.
He climbed into bed and we both slid toward the center of the bed until we met. Our legs intertwined as we kissed. I could feel us both relaxing, releasing the stress of the day. In the last couple of years he's gone from being a non-kisser to an o.k. kisser. At least he was willing to try.
He reached over and grabbed some lube, put some on his hand, and slid his hand between my legs. There was absolutely not need for it, but I didn't say anything. Why spoil his fun?
I reached over and grabbed Spartacus. Hubby smiled, kissed me again, and pulled his hand up to my right breast while be started kissing my left. I pushed the button on the vibe and slid it through the slickness to my clit. The intensity made me flinch. He checkled and then reached back for some more lube. I was wondering what he was thinking until I realized it was the peppermint lube he was holding and then dribbling on my nipples. Then he went after my tits hungrily, lapping and sucking on one, then the other, then back again.
I turned up the speed on Spartacus and was just about cum when he said, "Is it raining yet? Do you know?"
"What?" I asked, confused.
"Do you know if it has started raining, yet?" As soon as he finished the question, his mouth went back to work on my nipple.
My hand stopped moving.
"Seriously?" I said. "You really want to talk about the weather right now? NOW?!"
This struck me as such a great example of sex in a long term marriage. Sometimes you're into it. Sometimes you're not. It's not unusual to think about other things but saying them out loud during the act is a bit rude. Unfortunately, that's how married couples can be to each other sometimes. We forget about the other person's feelings because we're so wrapped up in ourselves at times. I was pretty sure, though, that he wouldn't want to talk about the weather when it was "his turn."
He apologized and we got refocused. But now I couldn't cum. Every time I was close I started thinking about the weather. No lie. UGH!
So I faked it. I hate doing that. I rarely do. But I did. I figured I'd take care of myself later, if I needed to and I was pretty much not into it anymore anyway.
Since I was "done," he wanted his so I scooted down and took his cock into my mouth.
What a minute!" I said. "Where's that peppermint lube? I want some!"
He laughed and tossed it to me. I told him that I wanted to watch him put it on. There's something very sexy about watching a man slowly stroke himself. I leaned back and watched, twice telling him, "More...."
When I was ready, I took him in my mouth and started sucking him slowly, moaning with a girl-like glee as I lapped up the peppermint lube. It wasn't long before he tapped my shoulder and told me to turn around.
I got upon my hands and knees and looked back at him. He grabbed my hips and slid his cock inside me. Ohmygod it felt SO good! Usually when we get to this stage, I've already cum once, but this time I was still horny and I wanted it badly, so I started rocking back against him right away.
I thought I was going to cum, but then I heard it. The rain. I could hear the rain on the roof. Then I couldn't stop laughing and I asked him, "Can't you hear the rain?"
"No," he answered. "And stop laughing. Don't you know it's just wrong to laugh when you're in bed with a man." He was still pumping me while he said that, and I was still laughing.
When I could tell he was about 15 seconds from cumming, I looked back at him and said, "Hey! How's the weather back there?" By then I was laughing hysterically and there was no way I could stop.
Hubby groaned loudly, slapped my ass HARD and growled, "Dammit, Kat!" He reached forward and pushed my face into the pillow, which just made me laugh harder. Then he grabbed my hips with both hands and went at me hard and fast until he came. I popped my head up and said, "Don't you wanna talk about the weather?" and he threw another pillow at my head.
"Having a good time?" he asked as he climbed off the bed and grabbed a washcloth to clean up with. "Yes, I am," I said between bursts of laughter. "This is better than sex!"
He just shook his head and walked into the bathroom. I saw his shoulders shaking as he laughed while walked away.
By the time he came back to bed, I was done laughing, but I was still smiling. He crawled into bed, kissed me and we snuggled up together.
He whispered into my ear, "So, is it supposed to rain tomorrow?" We both started howling, laughing as quietly as we could, pressing our mouths against each other to smother the sound so it wouldn't wake up the boys.
We fell asleep like that, tightly held in each other's arms with smiles on our faces.
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
March Madness
March Madness.
That's sort of the topic for this month's Sex Blog Chain. Specifically, the topic is "March Madness - Sex with an Athlete."
It can be about sex with a professional athlete or some guy who used to play sports a long time ago. It's entirely up to the writer. Just remember, the deadline to get your posts to me is March 9th. I'll put up the Chain post mid-day on Sunday (Calif. time --which will be an hour ahead of where it is now, remember).
Please spread the word to the bloggers you know and love to read. The Chain is more fun if we have lots of participants.
March Madness also refers to my mental and emotional states these days. Well, it started as February Madness, but that doesn't sound as good, does it?
I haven't posted much for two reasons. First, I haven't much sex to share lately.What I've had hasn't been bad, but nothing to inspire a naughty post. I know, it's disappointing, isn't it? Trust me, you can't possibly be more disappointed than I am.
The second reason I haven't posted as much is that I've been in a bit of a funk lately. I've been feeling lonely and neglected and taken for granted, and rather than spew all that out at you, I have adopted the policy my mother taught me - If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all.
Besides, Kat pissed off and feeling sorry for herself is not very attractive. Not at all.
However, I'll make an effort to visit with you more here, Prowlers, and maybe that will help turn things around for me.
By the way, I heard that March Madness also has something to do with some sporting event......
That's sort of the topic for this month's Sex Blog Chain. Specifically, the topic is "March Madness - Sex with an Athlete."
It can be about sex with a professional athlete or some guy who used to play sports a long time ago. It's entirely up to the writer. Just remember, the deadline to get your posts to me is March 9th. I'll put up the Chain post mid-day on Sunday (Calif. time --which will be an hour ahead of where it is now, remember).
Please spread the word to the bloggers you know and love to read. The Chain is more fun if we have lots of participants.
March Madness also refers to my mental and emotional states these days. Well, it started as February Madness, but that doesn't sound as good, does it?
I haven't posted much for two reasons. First, I haven't much sex to share lately.What I've had hasn't been bad, but nothing to inspire a naughty post. I know, it's disappointing, isn't it? Trust me, you can't possibly be more disappointed than I am.
The second reason I haven't posted as much is that I've been in a bit of a funk lately. I've been feeling lonely and neglected and taken for granted, and rather than spew all that out at you, I have adopted the policy my mother taught me - If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all.
Besides, Kat pissed off and feeling sorry for herself is not very attractive. Not at all.
However, I'll make an effort to visit with you more here, Prowlers, and maybe that will help turn things around for me.
By the way, I heard that March Madness also has something to do with some sporting event......
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