Yes, Prowlers. I get it. You like fisting, or at least you like reading about it.
I think you have alerted the people at Google and now someone there is asking, "Who is this Kat person? And why do people keep going to her looking for 'fisting' and 'fisting stories'?"
Seriously, I didn't know so many people were into or looking for fisting, but the stats don't lie.
Wait, I need to directly answer Mr. Google-man's question: Why? Because Prowlers are very, very naughty boys and girls who like to suck the marrow out of life (among other things) and reach for hitherto unknown heights of sexual pleasure.
Unfortunately, my friends, I haven't had a good fisting in a long time (months), so I can't yet provide you with any new stories. Before you get upset, please be aware that it's not my fault. My pussy has been open for business and available for fisting all along, but I can't help it if my honey hasn't chosen to go there. So, file your complaints elsewhere.
For now, here are links to my fisting posts in case you missed any of them.
Delicious Irony - A Naughty Fisting Story This is my favorite fisting story.
Gone Fisting ...... This is an informational post, but there is at least one video link, too.
Double Fisting? Yowza! This is my favorite fisting experience.
All Filled Up - A Naughty Story Re-reading this one inspired me to shoot of a text to P to see how he's doing.
There you go. Four fisting posts. Three fisting stories. Three unbelievably hot men and one horny Kat.
You like fisting. I get it.
Who doesn't?
Showing posts with label J. Show all posts
Showing posts with label J. Show all posts
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Monday, August 29, 2011
Kat's First Ashley Madison Encounter - Chicago Guy
It was a Sunday afternoon and I was working in my office at home. Correction: I was procrastinating in my office at home. I had seen one of those faux Ashley Madison commercials on TV (brilliant marketing ploy, by the way) and I decided I had the time to take a look. I had also recently decided that it was time to start prowling again. It had been about 7 years since my last fling (yes, that's right, seven...long....years) and I was ready. I was more than ready.
I signed up quickly using one of my rarely-used web email addresses and a fake name. It was simple. So far, so good. I set up a profile. All those check boxes were annoying, so I wrote a few lines, not trying to impress anyone at all - just trying to get through the stupid profile creation process without a blank profile.
Then I started browsing. 20 miles from home. 50 miles from home. Wow! So many choices! Within 20 minutes, I was getting messages. Lots of messages. I started answering them while still browsing. Within an hour, I had a few men I was chatting with and I stopped answering the messages for awhile.
Chicago Guy was one of the first messages I received that day. He was in town for a couple of weeks on business and he said this was his first time trolling on AM, and that he had never had an affair before. My heart sank a little because I was really looking for someone local for a longer term thing, but he was a nice guy, so we continued to chat.
He was in town for a couple of weeks, but I use the term "in town" very loosely. Apparently, he wasn't familiar with northern California when he was browsing in my area. He was actually 90 minutes away. Oh well, another strike against anything ever happening with this guy.
There was flirting. There was naughty conversation. There were exchanged photos (hmmm...not bad). Then came the requests to meet that day.
Not gonna happen, I thought. First, it was Sunday. I never just take off on a Sunday. Hubby would never buy it. And this guy was 90 minutes away. No way.
So I told him, sure, as long as he was willing to drive an hour my way. I'd drive 30 minutes in his direction, and we could meet at a hotel near a shopping destination that I'd use as my alibi. I knew the answer would be no. What guy would drive an hour for sex?
To my surprise, he said yes and asked when he should leave.
Holy maloney! It was now or never. I told him to leave right then. I went to hubby and made my case for an escape for a few hours. Then I cleaned up a bit and left.
I got to the room first and checked in and waited. To say I was nervous would have been an understatement. As I sat there in the quiet thinking, all sorts of terrible thoughts occurred to me. What am I doing? He seemed too eager. He must be an axe murderer. What if he doesn't like me? (Why I was concerned that an axe murderer like me, I'll never know.) What if he doesn't look at all like his photo? What if we have no rapport in person and the sex sucks? How long do I have to stay if I change my mind?
My terror thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. I walked over to the door and looked through the peephole. Relief. Not only did he look like his photo, but he was quite handsome. He was tall (6'2") and muscular with a shaved head and a goatee. He wore jeans and a Chicago Bears jersey, and he looked perfectly comfortable. If this was his first time, why wasn't he nervous like me?
I opened the door and we smiled at each other. I stepped aside so he could enter and we uttered some quick greetings as he walked in.
"Kat? Hi," he said.
"Chicago Guy?" I replied.
(By the way, I'm not using an initial for his name like I usually do here because, well, I don't remember his name. I know. What a slut, huh?")
Unexpectedly, he pulled me close and kissed me as soon as the door closed. We stood there kissing for what seemed like the longest time until the heat started to build and clothes started to come off. He kept his mouth on mine constantly so I couldn't ask him the critically important question I had in mind. I thought I'd ask it as I pulled his jersey off over his head, but then I got a look at his chest and decided that this was not a time for talking.
As soon as our clothes were off, he turned me around, put a hand on the back of my neck and bent me over the bed. I threw my hands down in front of me to catch my fall as he pushed my legs apart with one of his knees and pulled my hips up, indicating that he wanted to me to stand, bent over at the waist.
I felt him step back to look. I felt so exposed, bent over the bed nude while he looked at me, inspected me. I heard him unwrap a condom and put it on. Thank God. We hadn't even talked about that. His hands started to caress by back, then my ass, my thighs. He slid his hand between my legs and very slowly and gently pressed a finger inside me. I shuddered a bit. He gasped and whispered, "So wet....very nice..."
He pulled out his hand and reached around, putting his fingers in my mouth. I sucked on them obediently, cleaning off every drop as I felt him lean against me. I felt him positioning his cock to enter me, but he was so tall and I was so short....I went up onto my tippy toes. The extra couple of inches was all he needed, and he slid into me with one deep stroke.
That first experience of new cock is amazing, but this was particularly incredible because it had been 7 years since I had been with anyone besides my husband. I started to push back against him, but I couldn't because he grabbed my hips and lifted me up slightly so I couldn't get my footing. He fucked me deeply and hard for about 30 seconds and then he came.
I thought, That's it? Surely we're not done.
I laid down on the bed while he disposed of condom #1. We chatted a bit. Then I remembered! I had to ask the question!
"White Sox or Cubs?"
He laughed. He tried to kiss me, but I pushed him away.
"Answer the question first. Then I'll decide if there's more."
He got serious, looked into my eyes, and said, "Cubs."
"Good answer, " I purred, and I kissed him.
He kissed his way down my neck, lingered for awhile sucking on my nipples, then down my belly. He shifted his body, repositioning himself between my legs, which I had spread wide open for him at that point. I felt his tongue exploring me, until he found my clit. He sucked on it for about 10 seconds, just long enough for me to let a hungry moan escape.
Then he pulled his head up, looked at me, and said, "Wait. I have a question now."
"Seriously?" I panted. "Can't it wait?"
"Nope," he said rather matter-of-factly as he slid a couple of fingers inside me and started rubbing my clit with his thumb.
"What is it?"
He teased, "Maybe I shouldn't ask it yet, but I can't let you cum until you answer and unless I get the right answer. Do you want me to ask you the question now, Kat?"
By now, his finger had found my g-spot and his thumb had my clit and I was rocking my hips, pressing against his hand.
"Yes, ask the question," I moaned.
He stopped moving his hand. "Maybe not."
"Please! Please ask the question..."
He started moving his hand again. I remember thinking, he'd better ask that damned question soon or I won't be able to think clearly enough to answer.
Then he asked the one question that I could answer under any conditions.
"Giants or Dodgers?"
"Giants!" I yelled. His hand stopped. For the first time ever, the thought actually crossed my mind that Dodgers might have been the correct answer.
Naaaaahhhhh.
He replaced his thumb with his tongue, finger fucking me while he gave me the best (ok, the only) tongue lashing my pussy had had in seven years.
As soon as I started to shake, he reached up and put his forearm across my belly, holding me still. I was amazed how that forced all of the energy and focus inside me as I came. It was more of an explosion than an orgasm. He kept working it all the way to the end, letting me enjoy every last jolt and shudder.
He gently slid his fingers out of me and climbed back up next to me, kissing me right away, making me taste myself. He rubbed his wet hand on one of my breasts; then he leaned over me and started kissing and licking it it clean.
After about a minute, he found my mouth again (I was just laying there, dumbfounded and satisfied at that point) and kissed me deeply. His kiss wandered to my neck, then my ear, and he whispered, "Good answer."
We both laughed. We talked some more. Condom #2 and condom #3 were well used (maybe I'll share those details in another post).
Then we looked at the clock and it was time for me to go. We talked about meeting again as we got dressed, but we both finally admitted that it wasn't going to happen. I had a busy week ahead. He was flying home on Friday.
We kissed each other goodbye and walked out together. We waved goodbye as we each walked to our cars. That was the last time I saw him.
I drove away thinking, this AM thing may actually work out for me. It turns out that it did because the very next time I logged on, I met J (The Best Sex of My Life).
I signed up quickly using one of my rarely-used web email addresses and a fake name. It was simple. So far, so good. I set up a profile. All those check boxes were annoying, so I wrote a few lines, not trying to impress anyone at all - just trying to get through the stupid profile creation process without a blank profile.
Then I started browsing. 20 miles from home. 50 miles from home. Wow! So many choices! Within 20 minutes, I was getting messages. Lots of messages. I started answering them while still browsing. Within an hour, I had a few men I was chatting with and I stopped answering the messages for awhile.
Chicago Guy was one of the first messages I received that day. He was in town for a couple of weeks on business and he said this was his first time trolling on AM, and that he had never had an affair before. My heart sank a little because I was really looking for someone local for a longer term thing, but he was a nice guy, so we continued to chat.
He was in town for a couple of weeks, but I use the term "in town" very loosely. Apparently, he wasn't familiar with northern California when he was browsing in my area. He was actually 90 minutes away. Oh well, another strike against anything ever happening with this guy.
There was flirting. There was naughty conversation. There were exchanged photos (hmmm...not bad). Then came the requests to meet that day.
Not gonna happen, I thought. First, it was Sunday. I never just take off on a Sunday. Hubby would never buy it. And this guy was 90 minutes away. No way.
So I told him, sure, as long as he was willing to drive an hour my way. I'd drive 30 minutes in his direction, and we could meet at a hotel near a shopping destination that I'd use as my alibi. I knew the answer would be no. What guy would drive an hour for sex?
To my surprise, he said yes and asked when he should leave.
Holy maloney! It was now or never. I told him to leave right then. I went to hubby and made my case for an escape for a few hours. Then I cleaned up a bit and left.
I got to the room first and checked in and waited. To say I was nervous would have been an understatement. As I sat there in the quiet thinking, all sorts of terrible thoughts occurred to me. What am I doing? He seemed too eager. He must be an axe murderer. What if he doesn't like me? (Why I was concerned that an axe murderer like me, I'll never know.) What if he doesn't look at all like his photo? What if we have no rapport in person and the sex sucks? How long do I have to stay if I change my mind?
My terror thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. I walked over to the door and looked through the peephole. Relief. Not only did he look like his photo, but he was quite handsome. He was tall (6'2") and muscular with a shaved head and a goatee. He wore jeans and a Chicago Bears jersey, and he looked perfectly comfortable. If this was his first time, why wasn't he nervous like me?
I opened the door and we smiled at each other. I stepped aside so he could enter and we uttered some quick greetings as he walked in.
"Kat? Hi," he said.
"Chicago Guy?" I replied.
(By the way, I'm not using an initial for his name like I usually do here because, well, I don't remember his name. I know. What a slut, huh?")
Unexpectedly, he pulled me close and kissed me as soon as the door closed. We stood there kissing for what seemed like the longest time until the heat started to build and clothes started to come off. He kept his mouth on mine constantly so I couldn't ask him the critically important question I had in mind. I thought I'd ask it as I pulled his jersey off over his head, but then I got a look at his chest and decided that this was not a time for talking.
As soon as our clothes were off, he turned me around, put a hand on the back of my neck and bent me over the bed. I threw my hands down in front of me to catch my fall as he pushed my legs apart with one of his knees and pulled my hips up, indicating that he wanted to me to stand, bent over at the waist.
I felt him step back to look. I felt so exposed, bent over the bed nude while he looked at me, inspected me. I heard him unwrap a condom and put it on. Thank God. We hadn't even talked about that. His hands started to caress by back, then my ass, my thighs. He slid his hand between my legs and very slowly and gently pressed a finger inside me. I shuddered a bit. He gasped and whispered, "So wet....very nice..."
He pulled out his hand and reached around, putting his fingers in my mouth. I sucked on them obediently, cleaning off every drop as I felt him lean against me. I felt him positioning his cock to enter me, but he was so tall and I was so short....I went up onto my tippy toes. The extra couple of inches was all he needed, and he slid into me with one deep stroke.
That first experience of new cock is amazing, but this was particularly incredible because it had been 7 years since I had been with anyone besides my husband. I started to push back against him, but I couldn't because he grabbed my hips and lifted me up slightly so I couldn't get my footing. He fucked me deeply and hard for about 30 seconds and then he came.
I thought, That's it? Surely we're not done.
I laid down on the bed while he disposed of condom #1. We chatted a bit. Then I remembered! I had to ask the question!
"White Sox or Cubs?"
He laughed. He tried to kiss me, but I pushed him away.
"Answer the question first. Then I'll decide if there's more."
He got serious, looked into my eyes, and said, "Cubs."
"Good answer, " I purred, and I kissed him.
He kissed his way down my neck, lingered for awhile sucking on my nipples, then down my belly. He shifted his body, repositioning himself between my legs, which I had spread wide open for him at that point. I felt his tongue exploring me, until he found my clit. He sucked on it for about 10 seconds, just long enough for me to let a hungry moan escape.
Then he pulled his head up, looked at me, and said, "Wait. I have a question now."
"Seriously?" I panted. "Can't it wait?"
"Nope," he said rather matter-of-factly as he slid a couple of fingers inside me and started rubbing my clit with his thumb.
"What is it?"
He teased, "Maybe I shouldn't ask it yet, but I can't let you cum until you answer and unless I get the right answer. Do you want me to ask you the question now, Kat?"
By now, his finger had found my g-spot and his thumb had my clit and I was rocking my hips, pressing against his hand.
"Yes, ask the question," I moaned.
He stopped moving his hand. "Maybe not."
"Please! Please ask the question..."
He started moving his hand again. I remember thinking, he'd better ask that damned question soon or I won't be able to think clearly enough to answer.
Then he asked the one question that I could answer under any conditions.
"Giants or Dodgers?"
"Giants!" I yelled. His hand stopped. For the first time ever, the thought actually crossed my mind that Dodgers might have been the correct answer.
Naaaaahhhhh.
He replaced his thumb with his tongue, finger fucking me while he gave me the best (ok, the only) tongue lashing my pussy had had in seven years.
As soon as I started to shake, he reached up and put his forearm across my belly, holding me still. I was amazed how that forced all of the energy and focus inside me as I came. It was more of an explosion than an orgasm. He kept working it all the way to the end, letting me enjoy every last jolt and shudder.
He gently slid his fingers out of me and climbed back up next to me, kissing me right away, making me taste myself. He rubbed his wet hand on one of my breasts; then he leaned over me and started kissing and licking it it clean.
After about a minute, he found my mouth again (I was just laying there, dumbfounded and satisfied at that point) and kissed me deeply. His kiss wandered to my neck, then my ear, and he whispered, "Good answer."
We both laughed. We talked some more. Condom #2 and condom #3 were well used (maybe I'll share those details in another post).
Then we looked at the clock and it was time for me to go. We talked about meeting again as we got dressed, but we both finally admitted that it wasn't going to happen. I had a busy week ahead. He was flying home on Friday.
We kissed each other goodbye and walked out together. We waved goodbye as we each walked to our cars. That was the last time I saw him.
I drove away thinking, this AM thing may actually work out for me. It turns out that it did because the very next time I logged on, I met J (The Best Sex of My Life).
Thursday, June 2, 2011
What Happened to the Contender?
You might remember P from several of the hotter posts I've written (The Contender, All Filled Up, and Like Cool Water in a Desert). We shared some amazing sex for a couple of months. In fact, there was even some talk that he might take the title of The Best Sex of My Life away from J (Don't worry, J, he didn't...but JJ is definitely in the running).
Not only was the sex amazing, but I really liked him. He was funny, interesting,communicative, extremely bright, and very sweet. He called me just about every morning to say hello and check in for the day. He was great.
So, what happened to him?
The last time I was with him, the sex was awesome, as always. The last time I spoke with him, we were making plans for another hook-up the following week after he got back from a business trip. The last time we chatted online, it was light and fun, and he ended the conversation with, "Can't wait to see you again...soon."
So, what happened?
I have no idea. He simply disappeared. One of my friends calls it "radio silence" when someone just stops communicating completely. After that last chat session online, there were no more phone calls, emails, chat sessions, voice mails, or text messages. My calls, emails, voice mails, and text messages went un-returned. Even the mischief phone that he got just for me hasn't been answered again.
Of course, I didn't keep attempting communication for very long (I'm no stalker), but I'm still puzzled to this day. What the heck happened to him? For a few weeks, I scanned local newspapers, hoping I wouldn't find anything (like an obituary, God forbid). Nothing.
Months later, when I'm chatting with Cara and I write, "Guess what?," she still replies, "You heard from P!!!?" My answer is always the same - "No. Nothing."
I don't know if I will ever hear from him again.
Maybe his wife caught him and he's under lock and key. Maybe a tragedy struck his family. Maybe he just woke up one day and was tired of me. Maybe he became seriously ill or was in a car accident. I will probably never know.
It's rare that someone vanishes into thin air like that when everything is gong well in our prowling relationship. Usually, there is some sign that something is wrong, or if wifey starts suspecting something, I'll at least get a cryptic message saying something like, "Wife knows something. Can't talk anymore." Heck, I'd even be good with "I'm ok, but leave me alone" just so I would know he's not dead.
But sometimes all we get is the silence, and we have to learn to live with it. Oh, I could go to his place of business or try some more intrusive measures to try to find him and learn what happened, but I consider that to be crossing the line. I ask myself how far I would want a fuck buddy to go to contact me if I stopped communicating and I apply that limit to myself.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not sitting around pining for P, devastated that he's gone. Sure, I miss him, but from day one I knew it would end at some point, and I'm 100% happy with the honey in my life right now. Still, I enjoy the fun memories, and every now and then I'll write up some of them to share with you.
Not only was the sex amazing, but I really liked him. He was funny, interesting,communicative, extremely bright, and very sweet. He called me just about every morning to say hello and check in for the day. He was great.
So, what happened to him?
The last time I was with him, the sex was awesome, as always. The last time I spoke with him, we were making plans for another hook-up the following week after he got back from a business trip. The last time we chatted online, it was light and fun, and he ended the conversation with, "Can't wait to see you again...soon."
So, what happened?
I have no idea. He simply disappeared. One of my friends calls it "radio silence" when someone just stops communicating completely. After that last chat session online, there were no more phone calls, emails, chat sessions, voice mails, or text messages. My calls, emails, voice mails, and text messages went un-returned. Even the mischief phone that he got just for me hasn't been answered again.
Of course, I didn't keep attempting communication for very long (I'm no stalker), but I'm still puzzled to this day. What the heck happened to him? For a few weeks, I scanned local newspapers, hoping I wouldn't find anything (like an obituary, God forbid). Nothing.
Months later, when I'm chatting with Cara and I write, "Guess what?," she still replies, "You heard from P!!!?" My answer is always the same - "No. Nothing."
I don't know if I will ever hear from him again.
Maybe his wife caught him and he's under lock and key. Maybe a tragedy struck his family. Maybe he just woke up one day and was tired of me. Maybe he became seriously ill or was in a car accident. I will probably never know.
It's rare that someone vanishes into thin air like that when everything is gong well in our prowling relationship. Usually, there is some sign that something is wrong, or if wifey starts suspecting something, I'll at least get a cryptic message saying something like, "Wife knows something. Can't talk anymore." Heck, I'd even be good with "I'm ok, but leave me alone" just so I would know he's not dead.
But sometimes all we get is the silence, and we have to learn to live with it. Oh, I could go to his place of business or try some more intrusive measures to try to find him and learn what happened, but I consider that to be crossing the line. I ask myself how far I would want a fuck buddy to go to contact me if I stopped communicating and I apply that limit to myself.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not sitting around pining for P, devastated that he's gone. Sure, I miss him, but from day one I knew it would end at some point, and I'm 100% happy with the honey in my life right now. Still, I enjoy the fun memories, and every now and then I'll write up some of them to share with you.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Delicious Irony - A Naughty Fisting Story
We were somewhere in the middle of our four hour fun session, and J (from The Best Sex of My Life) had just come for the second time. It was one of those wonderful moments of rest in between the moments of pleasure when you just get to relish the whole experience. We were both laying kind of diagonally on the bed, and J was gently stroking my inner thigh with his finger. I closed my eyes and focused on the sensation of his fingers, the sound of his breathing, the coolness of the air in the room.
I felt him move and reposition himself, but I didn't open my eyes. I assumed he was just trying to get comfortable, until I felt him nudge my legs apart and start licking around my clit very gently, almost imperceptibly, not touching it for a long while, just licking around it. I tried to be still, but I couldn't help but wiggle my hips a little bit....if I could just get that tongue a little bit to the left..... But he was paying attention (as always) and he didn't let me control the situation.
As his tongue continued to tease me, he slipped a finger inside me and started moving it slowly in and out. Then he added another, and another. Now he had my full attention. I didn't even notice that he had quit licking because I was focused 100% on the slow movement of his fingers sliding deeply in and out of me. The slow wiggling of my hips became rhythmic rocking as he pressed more of his hand inside me.
I was full, stretched, and delighted when I finally realized what he was doing. I couldn't remember if I had told him I liked to be fisted or if he came up with it all on his own. It didn't matter at the moment, of course. All that mattered was the cascade of sensations building with each stroke of his hand.
At one point, the fullness became pain, and I asked him to stop - not to pull back, but just to stop for a moment - so my body could catch up to my desire to pump and grind against his hand as hard as I could. In a few seconds, I could feel the stretching and the release. I relaxed into it and said, "Ok," giving him the go ahead to continue. I threw my head back as I felt his thumb and final knuckle enter me.
Then he twisted his hand and started pumping it slowly in and out - very small movements augmented by my own rocking as I pressed against his fist, wanting more...wanting as much of him as I could get.
Then I felt something brushing and rubbing against that special spot inside me. The first time got my attention and I called out. Then it became regular and I started moving to reach for that feeling with each stroke. What was that? A knuckle? The tip of his thumb? I tried to figure it out for about 10 seconds before the pleasure took over and I couldn't think about much else. I could hear myself moaning louder and louder as I could feel my release getting closer.
I felt completely controlled and dominated by him. I couldn't move except to grab onto the sheets with my hands and press against his fist with my hips. It felt like he was demanding my surrender to him, and I couldn't resist even if I wanted to.
Then it started - the shaking that always precedes a good, hard orgasm for me. I was ready to let it flow gently, but then J started licking my clit firmly and fast, perfectly coordinated with the motion of his hand. As his hand pulled back, his tongue flicked my clit. Then his tongue would circle away, and his fist would dive inside me again, hitting the spot that drove me crazy. There was no escape from it. It was a constant alternation of forced pleasure from his fist and his tongue. I screamed and let it take over, thoroughly enjoying the pulsing sensation throughout my whole body. He didn't stop right away; he kept it going until he could tell the initial jolt had subsided, and then he slowly pulled his hand out of me, in spite of my moans of protest.
I expected another moment of rest, but he was having none of that. He quickly climbed on top of me and thrust his hard cock (again?!) into me and started fucking me hard, which kept my orgasm going...and going....and going.....
He put his hand on my face (one of the very hot things J likes to do while fucking me.....mmmmm) and that's when I noticed how amazingly wet his whole hand was. I started licking and sucking my juices from his hand. He smiled, and fucked me harder. As I was licking his fingers, I noticed I was licking his wedding ring at one point.
That's when it hit me! That amazing little ridge rubbing against my g-spot while he was fisting me and giving me so much pleasure was his wedding ring!
That, fellow Prowlers, is delicious irony.
------------------------------------------
Related Posts:
Gone Fisting...
The Best Sex of My Life
J's Version of His First Time with Kat
13 Reasons Why J Was the Best Ever
I felt him move and reposition himself, but I didn't open my eyes. I assumed he was just trying to get comfortable, until I felt him nudge my legs apart and start licking around my clit very gently, almost imperceptibly, not touching it for a long while, just licking around it. I tried to be still, but I couldn't help but wiggle my hips a little bit....if I could just get that tongue a little bit to the left..... But he was paying attention (as always) and he didn't let me control the situation.
As his tongue continued to tease me, he slipped a finger inside me and started moving it slowly in and out. Then he added another, and another. Now he had my full attention. I didn't even notice that he had quit licking because I was focused 100% on the slow movement of his fingers sliding deeply in and out of me. The slow wiggling of my hips became rhythmic rocking as he pressed more of his hand inside me.
I was full, stretched, and delighted when I finally realized what he was doing. I couldn't remember if I had told him I liked to be fisted or if he came up with it all on his own. It didn't matter at the moment, of course. All that mattered was the cascade of sensations building with each stroke of his hand.
At one point, the fullness became pain, and I asked him to stop - not to pull back, but just to stop for a moment - so my body could catch up to my desire to pump and grind against his hand as hard as I could. In a few seconds, I could feel the stretching and the release. I relaxed into it and said, "Ok," giving him the go ahead to continue. I threw my head back as I felt his thumb and final knuckle enter me.
Then he twisted his hand and started pumping it slowly in and out - very small movements augmented by my own rocking as I pressed against his fist, wanting more...wanting as much of him as I could get.
Then I felt something brushing and rubbing against that special spot inside me. The first time got my attention and I called out. Then it became regular and I started moving to reach for that feeling with each stroke. What was that? A knuckle? The tip of his thumb? I tried to figure it out for about 10 seconds before the pleasure took over and I couldn't think about much else. I could hear myself moaning louder and louder as I could feel my release getting closer.
I felt completely controlled and dominated by him. I couldn't move except to grab onto the sheets with my hands and press against his fist with my hips. It felt like he was demanding my surrender to him, and I couldn't resist even if I wanted to.
Then it started - the shaking that always precedes a good, hard orgasm for me. I was ready to let it flow gently, but then J started licking my clit firmly and fast, perfectly coordinated with the motion of his hand. As his hand pulled back, his tongue flicked my clit. Then his tongue would circle away, and his fist would dive inside me again, hitting the spot that drove me crazy. There was no escape from it. It was a constant alternation of forced pleasure from his fist and his tongue. I screamed and let it take over, thoroughly enjoying the pulsing sensation throughout my whole body. He didn't stop right away; he kept it going until he could tell the initial jolt had subsided, and then he slowly pulled his hand out of me, in spite of my moans of protest.
I expected another moment of rest, but he was having none of that. He quickly climbed on top of me and thrust his hard cock (again?!) into me and started fucking me hard, which kept my orgasm going...and going....and going.....
He put his hand on my face (one of the very hot things J likes to do while fucking me.....mmmmm) and that's when I noticed how amazingly wet his whole hand was. I started licking and sucking my juices from his hand. He smiled, and fucked me harder. As I was licking his fingers, I noticed I was licking his wedding ring at one point.
That's when it hit me! That amazing little ridge rubbing against my g-spot while he was fisting me and giving me so much pleasure was his wedding ring!
That, fellow Prowlers, is delicious irony.
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Related Posts:
Gone Fisting...
The Best Sex of My Life
J's Version of His First Time with Kat
13 Reasons Why J Was the Best Ever
Saturday, January 8, 2011
13 Reasons Why J Was the Best Ever
There are several reasons why J was the best ever for me (so far). You'll notice that I don't mention the size of his cock (although it is quite lovely) or his good looks (even though he is quite handsome). The lesson for you male prowlers out there is that good sex is about so much more than that.
Here are the 13 reasons why J was the best ever:
Here are the 13 reasons why J was the best ever:
- Confidence - J knows who is is and what he wants. That is seriously sexy and very, very hot.
- Amazing kisser - Don't underestimate this. If you have ever just been lost in a kiss you know exactly what I mean.
- Excellent listener - He really paid attention to the things I said when we chatted prior to our first meeting. Then, in between meetings, he asked questions about what I liked and what I would want to change. Most importantly, when we were together, it was obvious that he was paying attention.
- Generous - I'm using the word generous here as the opposite of "selfish." J clearly understands something that a lot of men miss - If the woman you are with is sexually satisfied, not only will you get what you want, but it will be much better for you than if she didn't. A pleased woman is eager to please. Simple, isn't it?
- Not Hung Up on Appearances - I'm not a totally unattractive Kat, but I'm not a Barbie cutie either. However, you would never know it by J's behavior.
- Enthusiastic - Nervous or not, J got into it. That is very, very hot. Many of us prowlers have been with folks who put up with sex like it is a boring obligation (maybe you're married to someone like that?). Being with someone who actually likes it and is not afraid to show it is very refreshing.
- Fun - This goes along with enthusiasm. J understands that sex is supposed to be fun. It's not supposed to be a job or an obligation. It's about pleasure. That attitude comes through as energy, enthusiasm, and generosity.
- Energetic - You probably gathered from my brief abridged retelling of our story that J has amazing stamina. Wow! Yes, it matters. If you only have 2-3 hours together, you want to make it count.
- Not Too Much Talk During the Act - Some talking (especially dirty talk and direction) can be fun, but too much is just distracting. J's quietness (almost shyness) can be unsettling, but it also lends some mystery to him. No, I don't need or want to know everything he's thinking. And for goodness sake, Ladies, don't keep asking what he's thinking. Do you really need to know? Just enjoy the moment.
- Knowledgeable - Good sex does involve some specific skills. It can be fun to discover and develop them together. It's also fun when both people walk into the room already having them. J is fantastic at giving oral and stepping up for some less usual, too.
- Experimental - J is totally willing to try new things. His default reaction to something new is, "Sure." Not all men are like that. Just give something new a try. If you don't like it, you don't have to do it again, but maybe you'll love it.
- Appreciative - Every time we met, J seemed genuinely appreciative (like I was) that we had a chance to be together.
- Focused - While he was with me, J was with me. He was 100% focused. Now, as married people with families, we sometimes have to take a phone call from the spouse or kids, but that aside, when J and I were together, it was just us. That makes all the difference.
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The Best Sex of My Life
I met J on the Ashley Madison website several months ago. I liked him immediately. Sometimes it takes a while to feel comfortable with someone online, but I was at ease with him right away. I don't know exactly what is was that made me feel so comfortable with him, but he had a sense of normalcy about him. He wrote plainly (and he spoke directly when we finally chatted by phone). He was happily married, and looking for some passion and sexual excitement, just as I was.
There was also a bit of mystery about him, but it didn't feel like he was intentionally hiding or withholding anything. English was not his first language, so he spoke with an accent, which always lends a sense of the exotic. He had all the characteristics that immediately catch my attention- he was very bright (I love smart men!), polite, committed to his family, adventurous, confident yet humble, and very normal.
We agreed to meet half way between his home and mine. We live about 90 miles apart, so splitting the drive for that first meeting seemed to make sense. I picked the hotel and got there first. I was waiting for him in the room when he arrived.
I was more nervous than I expected when I heard his knock on the door. We had shared pictures, of course, but that doesn't really help with that first face-to-face moment because it's rare that anyone looks exactly like a photograph, even if it was taken very recently. As I opened the door and saw J for the first time, I was very pleasantly surprised. His pictures didn't do him justice at all!
J was most definitely a handsome man. He stood confidently at 5'9" or 5"10 and he smiled almost shyly - and briefly - as our eyes met. His retro-style glasses hid his gentle eyes at first, but they beamed later when he removed the glasses. Light, very closely shaved hair hid what was thinning and called attention to his strong jaw and expressive forehead. He was 43, but he looked both younger than that and older than that, and I remember thinking how unusual that was, almost as if he were ageless. I couldn't tell much about his body at first sight because it was hidden under jeans and a jacket, but I knew he was athletic. I also knew immediately that I wanted to get him out of those clothes soon.
He stepped into the room quickly, dropped the bag he was carrying as the door closed behind him, and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me to him and kissing me. There was nothing tentative or hesitant about that kiss. It was both gentle and urgent. His hands began undressing me as we kissed, but I barely noticed because I was so focused on his mouth and his tongue. He was an amazing kisser- something I had not expected for some reason.
Soon, we were on the bed and his hand was between my legs. By then, I was quite wet and tilting my hips upward, reaching for his hand, as he slowly slid his fingers inside me. I heard him moan lightly into my mouth (he hadn't stopped kissing me, which was hot; I have come to believe that that man could do just about anything while kissing) and it took him only a few seconds to find my clit and begin circling it and flicking it with his finger perfectly. It didn't take long for me to cum that first time. I felt him smile ever so slightly as I was moaning, almost screaming, into his mouth and writhing with pleasure at his touch.
Then he reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a condom (the first of several; when did he put them there?). He kneeled between my legs, pushed my legs wide open and back by my shoulders, and he entered me forcefully, roughly, deeply.
The next 30 minutes were a blur of pleasure. It was almost as if he were a boy in an amusement park who couldn't decide which ride to enjoy next. He'd fuck me in one position until I came and then he'd roll me over and try something new, sensitive to exactly what was going on with me, but taking what he wanted anyway. At one point, after I had cum for the third time, I remember thinking, "How much longer can he do this?" That's about when he put me on my hands and knees again, knelt behind me, and pressed his cock into my ass. I squealed, and he responded my reaching up and pressing my head down into the pillow as he continued penetrating me slowly but forcefully. He moved slowly until my squeals turned into submissive moans, and then he grabbed both of my hips firmly and fucked me hard and deeply. Never before had I been fucked so hard that felt the vibration in my throat; it was a new and very raw experience for me.
He came without making much sound at all, but he reached up and grabbed my shoulders, pulling me back onto him. After, he collapsed on the bed next to me and just laid there in silence while we recovered. I caught my breath and watched him closely as he laid there with his eyes closed, noticing again what a handsome man he was.
A few minutes later we chatted a bit, making small talk. He started tracing his fingers on my chest as we talked, and it was only a matter of minutes before I felt desire rising again.
I started kissing my way down his chest while he talked. By the time I reached my destination, he wasn't talking anymore and he was hard again. I took his cock into my mouth gently and sucked it deeply for just a few strokes. Then I stopped and licked down a ways, sucking on his balls a moment, then licking some more. As I licked I grabbed his calves and bent his knees, giving me better access to lick around his asshole slowly, circling it slowly and then sliding my tongue in and out while I held his cock, stroking it firmly. When I felt him shaking, I knew it was time to take his cock into my mouth again, sucking it all the way back into my throat on each stroke. In no time, his hands were on my head pushing me down while his hips were thrusting upward, and he was moaning and begging me not to stop. He came deep in my throat so much it was difficult for me to suckle and swallow it all fast enough, but I managed.
This time as we rested, he was the one catching his breath. Silence for a while. Then more small talk. Then he was ready to go again...and again. The detail of the rest of our session is just for the two of us, although I have no doubt that I'll share in another post about how he fisted me so perfectly that I was begging for more.
I lost count after my 5th orgasm (Seriously, after that many, does the count really matter? I don't think so) and I counted three for him by time we both had to go, almost three hours from that first knock on the hotel room door. My knees were weak as we were getting dressed after. I smiled when he asked, "Well, should we try this again?" What came out of my mouth was something appropriately demur like, "That would be nice. I would like that very much." On the inside, though, I was shouting, "Hell yes we'd better do this again!"
He kissed me some more before we left the room. Then we walked down the hall together and out to the parking lot. He kissed me sweetly again before we got into our cars and he left with a casual, "See you later," and a flash of one of his rare but gorgeous smiles.
I got into my car gingerly, very pleasantly sore from the activity of the last few hours. It was, without a doubt, the best sexual experience of my life. It was surpassed, though, by my next meeting with him....and the next...and the next.
Just in case you couldn't figure it out, I'll explain in my next post why sex with J was the best I've ever had. Why do you think it was?
There was also a bit of mystery about him, but it didn't feel like he was intentionally hiding or withholding anything. English was not his first language, so he spoke with an accent, which always lends a sense of the exotic. He had all the characteristics that immediately catch my attention- he was very bright (I love smart men!), polite, committed to his family, adventurous, confident yet humble, and very normal.
We agreed to meet half way between his home and mine. We live about 90 miles apart, so splitting the drive for that first meeting seemed to make sense. I picked the hotel and got there first. I was waiting for him in the room when he arrived.
I was more nervous than I expected when I heard his knock on the door. We had shared pictures, of course, but that doesn't really help with that first face-to-face moment because it's rare that anyone looks exactly like a photograph, even if it was taken very recently. As I opened the door and saw J for the first time, I was very pleasantly surprised. His pictures didn't do him justice at all!
J was most definitely a handsome man. He stood confidently at 5'9" or 5"10 and he smiled almost shyly - and briefly - as our eyes met. His retro-style glasses hid his gentle eyes at first, but they beamed later when he removed the glasses. Light, very closely shaved hair hid what was thinning and called attention to his strong jaw and expressive forehead. He was 43, but he looked both younger than that and older than that, and I remember thinking how unusual that was, almost as if he were ageless. I couldn't tell much about his body at first sight because it was hidden under jeans and a jacket, but I knew he was athletic. I also knew immediately that I wanted to get him out of those clothes soon.
He stepped into the room quickly, dropped the bag he was carrying as the door closed behind him, and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me to him and kissing me. There was nothing tentative or hesitant about that kiss. It was both gentle and urgent. His hands began undressing me as we kissed, but I barely noticed because I was so focused on his mouth and his tongue. He was an amazing kisser- something I had not expected for some reason.
Soon, we were on the bed and his hand was between my legs. By then, I was quite wet and tilting my hips upward, reaching for his hand, as he slowly slid his fingers inside me. I heard him moan lightly into my mouth (he hadn't stopped kissing me, which was hot; I have come to believe that that man could do just about anything while kissing) and it took him only a few seconds to find my clit and begin circling it and flicking it with his finger perfectly. It didn't take long for me to cum that first time. I felt him smile ever so slightly as I was moaning, almost screaming, into his mouth and writhing with pleasure at his touch.
Then he reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a condom (the first of several; when did he put them there?). He kneeled between my legs, pushed my legs wide open and back by my shoulders, and he entered me forcefully, roughly, deeply.
The next 30 minutes were a blur of pleasure. It was almost as if he were a boy in an amusement park who couldn't decide which ride to enjoy next. He'd fuck me in one position until I came and then he'd roll me over and try something new, sensitive to exactly what was going on with me, but taking what he wanted anyway. At one point, after I had cum for the third time, I remember thinking, "How much longer can he do this?" That's about when he put me on my hands and knees again, knelt behind me, and pressed his cock into my ass. I squealed, and he responded my reaching up and pressing my head down into the pillow as he continued penetrating me slowly but forcefully. He moved slowly until my squeals turned into submissive moans, and then he grabbed both of my hips firmly and fucked me hard and deeply. Never before had I been fucked so hard that felt the vibration in my throat; it was a new and very raw experience for me.
He came without making much sound at all, but he reached up and grabbed my shoulders, pulling me back onto him. After, he collapsed on the bed next to me and just laid there in silence while we recovered. I caught my breath and watched him closely as he laid there with his eyes closed, noticing again what a handsome man he was.
A few minutes later we chatted a bit, making small talk. He started tracing his fingers on my chest as we talked, and it was only a matter of minutes before I felt desire rising again.
I started kissing my way down his chest while he talked. By the time I reached my destination, he wasn't talking anymore and he was hard again. I took his cock into my mouth gently and sucked it deeply for just a few strokes. Then I stopped and licked down a ways, sucking on his balls a moment, then licking some more. As I licked I grabbed his calves and bent his knees, giving me better access to lick around his asshole slowly, circling it slowly and then sliding my tongue in and out while I held his cock, stroking it firmly. When I felt him shaking, I knew it was time to take his cock into my mouth again, sucking it all the way back into my throat on each stroke. In no time, his hands were on my head pushing me down while his hips were thrusting upward, and he was moaning and begging me not to stop. He came deep in my throat so much it was difficult for me to suckle and swallow it all fast enough, but I managed.
This time as we rested, he was the one catching his breath. Silence for a while. Then more small talk. Then he was ready to go again...and again. The detail of the rest of our session is just for the two of us, although I have no doubt that I'll share in another post about how he fisted me so perfectly that I was begging for more.
I lost count after my 5th orgasm (Seriously, after that many, does the count really matter? I don't think so) and I counted three for him by time we both had to go, almost three hours from that first knock on the hotel room door. My knees were weak as we were getting dressed after. I smiled when he asked, "Well, should we try this again?" What came out of my mouth was something appropriately demur like, "That would be nice. I would like that very much." On the inside, though, I was shouting, "Hell yes we'd better do this again!"
He kissed me some more before we left the room. Then we walked down the hall together and out to the parking lot. He kissed me sweetly again before we got into our cars and he left with a casual, "See you later," and a flash of one of his rare but gorgeous smiles.
I got into my car gingerly, very pleasantly sore from the activity of the last few hours. It was, without a doubt, the best sexual experience of my life. It was surpassed, though, by my next meeting with him....and the next...and the next.
Just in case you couldn't figure it out, I'll explain in my next post why sex with J was the best I've ever had. Why do you think it was?
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