5 Aug 2012
7 Apr 2012
Guelphs and Ghibililines
There is a common sentiment that is usually attributed quite uniformly to men: "Bros before hos."
It took me several years to figure out that women do not share a similar sentiment.
Now I know these are generalisations, and it is not difficult to find counterexamples: I have carried on extended affairs with several married women, for example, and fucked a number of women who were in committed--or seemingly committed--relationships; and I've known a few women who would never consider sleeping with, or even going out for coffee with, a man who was involved with another woman. But these are exceptions.
And in my experience, women account for the smallest fraction of counterexamples.
It has always amused me that men, who largely define their manhood in terms of their ability and willingness to do battle with other men, are the ones most willing to choose cooperation over head-to-head competition when it comes to sex. Of course, it's not hard to imagine that this is precisely how this choice might have evolved. If you had two cavemen who were willing to fight and kill in order to mate with one woman, then the least riskiest strategy is cooperation: let the bigger, stronger, faster, George-Clooney-lookalike caveman have her, and when he's done, then you take your turn. Bros before hos!
But not women. Women know they are always in competition with other women, and they decided long ago that that meant war. For cavewomen, who were the chosen rather than the choosers, and were also probably less willing or able to fight and/or kill their competition, the optimal strategy was likely quite different: before the selection was made, win the attraction game; and once the selection was made, if you were the chosen one, do everything in your power to hold onto your caveman, and if you were not the chosen one, do everything you can to seduce the caveman away from your competition. It's interesting to note that in all cases, there is significant upside to keeping your enemies close, that is, befriending your competition. There is also significant upside to being at least partially slutty, and being willing to fuck your friend's caveman.
It's also true that in our male-dominated world, it has only been fairly recent that women have had significant opportunity to distinguish themselves from one another in ways other than their physical attributes, particularly those related to mating. These days we men might prefer women with degrees in astrophysics, but evolutionarily speaking it was hips and tits that attracted our attention the most throughout our history. A willingness to put out, not advanced degrees, differentiated women.
As Schopenhauer said,
For example, it explains why Corinne fucked me, not just in my car at the end of her driveway, but two years later when we were attending college together. Corinne and Catherine were sisters, and no doubt loved each other, so Corinne would not have fucked Catherine's high school sweetheart without a reason--and I did not give her a reason. Corinne simply offered. She may have anticipated that fucking me would make her feel good, or would have somehow benefitted her in some other intangible or unanticipated way, but that seems insufficient to overcome the moral implications of fucking your sister's high school sweetheart. And yet Corinne spread her legs for me four times, each time committing morally reprehensible acts that her sister could have never forgiven either one of us for. Corinne wasn't even deterred by the possibility that she could have gotten pregnant!
And then there was Val. Kristin had grown up with Teri and Val--Kristin even called Teri's and Val's parents "mom" and "dad" because her own parents were for shit--and yet within several hours of meeting me for the first time, Val fucked me three times while Kristin laid passed out nearby. Sure, we had all been drinking, but that does not change the fact that Val decided she wanted to fuck me and followed through on it--three times--after saying, "We shouldn't be doing this, promise me you won't ever tell Kristin." If Kristin had not caught us, would Val have fucked me again? No doubt.
But for me the perfect example was Kimberly. At some point--probably after the first time I fucked her--she decided to make sure I knew she was competing for me.
About two weeks after that fateful party, I was heading into the dorm's common area kitchen to heat up some food before class. Kimberly was in there, leaning over the sink washing some dishes from her lunch. "Hey," I said, "how are you? I haven't seen you in a few days." I couldn't take my eyes off of her ass.
"I'm okay, I only have morning classes today, so I've got the afternoon off," she said. "Where's Kristin?"
"Napping, then she has work," I replied. Her ass looked so good in shorts.
"Well, if you want to drop by after she leaves, I'll be home..." As her words trailed off she grabbed her dishes and left.
Over the years the kitchen was an incredibly good source of casual pussy.
I heated my food, ate, washed the container and fork, and went back to my room. Kristin was still napping, so I didn't need to lie about where I was going while saying goodbye. I grabbed my backpack and left. I walked through the lobby, went out the back, and then walked all the way to the end of the wing where Kimberly's room was. Seeing nobody, I quickly slipped between some bushes and the building, completely obscured from view, went around the corner and stepped up onto the porch outside Kimberly's room. Her door was open. I went in and locked it behind me.
She was laying on her bed, still wearing the khaki shorts and a light yellow tank top that showed off her sensational curves. She had rolled onto her side when she heard me enter. I tossed my backpack on her desk and sat down beside her. Like previously, she got straight to business, grabbing me and pulling my mouth to her's and giving me all of her tongue. Within seconds we were both naked.
"I can't resist your ass, you know," I told her. "Your ass is my Achilles heel."
"I'll remember that every time I want to fuck you," she said. She rolled over and pushed her ass back against me. I grabbed her hips, pulled her ass toward my face, and sunk my teeth into her left cheek. Her gasps and cries of pain filling the room, it didn't take me long to decorate her entire ass with bite marks. Then I pulled her cheeks apart, parted her thighs slightly and buried my tongue in her cunt, working it in and out of her a few dozen times. I sat up, pulled her ass up until she was on her knees with her face buried in the sheets, and began eating her pussy. I'd never eaten her pussy before. Her swollen vulva was lightly covered with soft, light brown hair, and her soft, slick labia parted easily as my tongue pushed deep into her warm, loose cunt. She felt wonderful and tasted delicious, but the best part was hearing her moan and feeling her body writhe.
"Fuck me," she almost begged, but I said "Not yet," firmly enough that she understood that my appetite for eating her pussy would not be so easily satisfied. I alternated between thrusting my tongue into her cunt, and licking the entire length of her vulva backward and forward until I heard and felt her pleasure building. Then I grabbed her hood and clit between my lips and sucked on them for several minutes as she squirmed and squealed. Suddenly she pushed back, hard, against my face, trying to grind against my mouth as she cried out. I continued sucking and licking her clit until she finished cumming. Finally she pushed my head away. "Jeezus. That was fucking nice. Now fuck me! Hard."
I sat up and pushed my throbbing cock into her from behind. There are times I have too little stamina in this position, and times I have too much, but every time I fucked Kimberly from behind, I could fuck her for as long and hard as I wanted. I think it was because, despite being so small, her pussy was extremely loose and deep. For most women, my cock is a bit too long, but it's usually only a problem in certain positions, that is, those that permit the deepest penetration. Women as short and petite as Kimberly can almost never take me in any position without my cock slamming into their cervix. But Kimberly could take all I could give her, and in any position. And the more I gave her, and the harder I gave it to her, the more she loved it and begged for more.
By the time she came a second time, my knees were starting to give. I exploded inside her, and then collapsed on top of her, crushing her into the mattress. We were both breathing heavily, my cock throbbing and still dribbling inside her. We laid there quietly for several minutes until she broke the silence. "You know you can fuck me any time you want, anywhere you want, Kristin or not, right?" It was more a statement than a question.
"Of course," I said, though until that moment I had not been as certain as my response implied. "Um...why?"
"Because I want you to fuck me more. I want you to fuck me a lot more. And I was wondering what I have to do to get you to do that."
"That's easy," I laughed. "You just had to ask. I can do that."
"Are you sure? Because I want you to fuck me more than you fuck her. Or at least I want you to want to fuck me more than you want to fuck her. Can you do that?" She looked straight at me, making sure I understood that she was serious.
"I can," I said, "but what are you getting at? Do you want me to dump her?"
"No," she said with conviction. "Look, Kristin is my friend, and I don't want to take you from her. But I do want you, and I do want you to fuck me. A lot. I want you to desire me so much that you have to act on it. I want to be the centre of your desire and attention."
"You realise I'm still going to desire and fuck her, right?" I pointed out.
"Of course," she said. "She's your girlfriend."
"And you realise I'm still going to enjoy fucking her, right?" She had to understand that I actually really liked fucking Kristin.
"I know. I'm not worried about it. You might enjoy fucking her, but I'll make sure you love fucking me. I'll make sure you desire me more than you desire her. You'll want to fuck me all day, every day. You'll want to fuck me even when you're fucking her."
I smiled. "Well, it's working. I already want to fuck you more."
"When does Kristin get back from work?"
"She's off at eleven." I knew where this was going.
"Good," she smiled, "then get to it. And don't stop fucking me until eleven."
It took me several years to figure out that women do not share a similar sentiment.
Now I know these are generalisations, and it is not difficult to find counterexamples: I have carried on extended affairs with several married women, for example, and fucked a number of women who were in committed--or seemingly committed--relationships; and I've known a few women who would never consider sleeping with, or even going out for coffee with, a man who was involved with another woman. But these are exceptions.
And in my experience, women account for the smallest fraction of counterexamples.
It has always amused me that men, who largely define their manhood in terms of their ability and willingness to do battle with other men, are the ones most willing to choose cooperation over head-to-head competition when it comes to sex. Of course, it's not hard to imagine that this is precisely how this choice might have evolved. If you had two cavemen who were willing to fight and kill in order to mate with one woman, then the least riskiest strategy is cooperation: let the bigger, stronger, faster, George-Clooney-lookalike caveman have her, and when he's done, then you take your turn. Bros before hos!
But not women. Women know they are always in competition with other women, and they decided long ago that that meant war. For cavewomen, who were the chosen rather than the choosers, and were also probably less willing or able to fight and/or kill their competition, the optimal strategy was likely quite different: before the selection was made, win the attraction game; and once the selection was made, if you were the chosen one, do everything in your power to hold onto your caveman, and if you were not the chosen one, do everything you can to seduce the caveman away from your competition. It's interesting to note that in all cases, there is significant upside to keeping your enemies close, that is, befriending your competition. There is also significant upside to being at least partially slutty, and being willing to fuck your friend's caveman.
It's also true that in our male-dominated world, it has only been fairly recent that women have had significant opportunity to distinguish themselves from one another in ways other than their physical attributes, particularly those related to mating. These days we men might prefer women with degrees in astrophysics, but evolutionarily speaking it was hips and tits that attracted our attention the most throughout our history. A willingness to put out, not advanced degrees, differentiated women.
As Schopenhauer said,
Men are by nature indifferent to one another; but women are by nature enemies. The reason is no doubt that the odium figulinuum which with men does not go beyond the bounds of the particular guild with women embraces the whole sex—they are all engaged in the same trade. Even when they simply pass in the street they look at one another like Guelphs and Ghibililines: and when two women exchange compliments it sounds much more ludicrous then when two men do so. The reason for this may be that with women all differences in rank are far more precarious than they are with men, and can be altered or abolished much more quickly, whereas with men a hundred different considerations are involved. Because women are all in the same profession (competitors for the attentions of men), they all stand much closer to one another than men do, and consequently strive to emphasize differences in rank.This is surely not a post-feminist view of women, and is not offered up as such; rather, it probably reflects the situation women were in for most of human history after branching off from Homo erectus about 200,000 years ago. And if so, it could explain a few things.
For example, it explains why Corinne fucked me, not just in my car at the end of her driveway, but two years later when we were attending college together. Corinne and Catherine were sisters, and no doubt loved each other, so Corinne would not have fucked Catherine's high school sweetheart without a reason--and I did not give her a reason. Corinne simply offered. She may have anticipated that fucking me would make her feel good, or would have somehow benefitted her in some other intangible or unanticipated way, but that seems insufficient to overcome the moral implications of fucking your sister's high school sweetheart. And yet Corinne spread her legs for me four times, each time committing morally reprehensible acts that her sister could have never forgiven either one of us for. Corinne wasn't even deterred by the possibility that she could have gotten pregnant!
And then there was Val. Kristin had grown up with Teri and Val--Kristin even called Teri's and Val's parents "mom" and "dad" because her own parents were for shit--and yet within several hours of meeting me for the first time, Val fucked me three times while Kristin laid passed out nearby. Sure, we had all been drinking, but that does not change the fact that Val decided she wanted to fuck me and followed through on it--three times--after saying, "We shouldn't be doing this, promise me you won't ever tell Kristin." If Kristin had not caught us, would Val have fucked me again? No doubt.
~~C~C~~
But for me the perfect example was Kimberly. At some point--probably after the first time I fucked her--she decided to make sure I knew she was competing for me.
About two weeks after that fateful party, I was heading into the dorm's common area kitchen to heat up some food before class. Kimberly was in there, leaning over the sink washing some dishes from her lunch. "Hey," I said, "how are you? I haven't seen you in a few days." I couldn't take my eyes off of her ass.
"I'm okay, I only have morning classes today, so I've got the afternoon off," she said. "Where's Kristin?"
"Napping, then she has work," I replied. Her ass looked so good in shorts.
"Well, if you want to drop by after she leaves, I'll be home..." As her words trailed off she grabbed her dishes and left.
Over the years the kitchen was an incredibly good source of casual pussy.
I heated my food, ate, washed the container and fork, and went back to my room. Kristin was still napping, so I didn't need to lie about where I was going while saying goodbye. I grabbed my backpack and left. I walked through the lobby, went out the back, and then walked all the way to the end of the wing where Kimberly's room was. Seeing nobody, I quickly slipped between some bushes and the building, completely obscured from view, went around the corner and stepped up onto the porch outside Kimberly's room. Her door was open. I went in and locked it behind me.
She was laying on her bed, still wearing the khaki shorts and a light yellow tank top that showed off her sensational curves. She had rolled onto her side when she heard me enter. I tossed my backpack on her desk and sat down beside her. Like previously, she got straight to business, grabbing me and pulling my mouth to her's and giving me all of her tongue. Within seconds we were both naked.
"I can't resist your ass, you know," I told her. "Your ass is my Achilles heel."
"I'll remember that every time I want to fuck you," she said. She rolled over and pushed her ass back against me. I grabbed her hips, pulled her ass toward my face, and sunk my teeth into her left cheek. Her gasps and cries of pain filling the room, it didn't take me long to decorate her entire ass with bite marks. Then I pulled her cheeks apart, parted her thighs slightly and buried my tongue in her cunt, working it in and out of her a few dozen times. I sat up, pulled her ass up until she was on her knees with her face buried in the sheets, and began eating her pussy. I'd never eaten her pussy before. Her swollen vulva was lightly covered with soft, light brown hair, and her soft, slick labia parted easily as my tongue pushed deep into her warm, loose cunt. She felt wonderful and tasted delicious, but the best part was hearing her moan and feeling her body writhe.
"Fuck me," she almost begged, but I said "Not yet," firmly enough that she understood that my appetite for eating her pussy would not be so easily satisfied. I alternated between thrusting my tongue into her cunt, and licking the entire length of her vulva backward and forward until I heard and felt her pleasure building. Then I grabbed her hood and clit between my lips and sucked on them for several minutes as she squirmed and squealed. Suddenly she pushed back, hard, against my face, trying to grind against my mouth as she cried out. I continued sucking and licking her clit until she finished cumming. Finally she pushed my head away. "Jeezus. That was fucking nice. Now fuck me! Hard."
I sat up and pushed my throbbing cock into her from behind. There are times I have too little stamina in this position, and times I have too much, but every time I fucked Kimberly from behind, I could fuck her for as long and hard as I wanted. I think it was because, despite being so small, her pussy was extremely loose and deep. For most women, my cock is a bit too long, but it's usually only a problem in certain positions, that is, those that permit the deepest penetration. Women as short and petite as Kimberly can almost never take me in any position without my cock slamming into their cervix. But Kimberly could take all I could give her, and in any position. And the more I gave her, and the harder I gave it to her, the more she loved it and begged for more.
By the time she came a second time, my knees were starting to give. I exploded inside her, and then collapsed on top of her, crushing her into the mattress. We were both breathing heavily, my cock throbbing and still dribbling inside her. We laid there quietly for several minutes until she broke the silence. "You know you can fuck me any time you want, anywhere you want, Kristin or not, right?" It was more a statement than a question.
"Of course," I said, though until that moment I had not been as certain as my response implied. "Um...why?"
"Because I want you to fuck me more. I want you to fuck me a lot more. And I was wondering what I have to do to get you to do that."
"That's easy," I laughed. "You just had to ask. I can do that."
"Are you sure? Because I want you to fuck me more than you fuck her. Or at least I want you to want to fuck me more than you want to fuck her. Can you do that?" She looked straight at me, making sure I understood that she was serious.
"I can," I said, "but what are you getting at? Do you want me to dump her?"
"No," she said with conviction. "Look, Kristin is my friend, and I don't want to take you from her. But I do want you, and I do want you to fuck me. A lot. I want you to desire me so much that you have to act on it. I want to be the centre of your desire and attention."
"You realise I'm still going to desire and fuck her, right?" I pointed out.
"Of course," she said. "She's your girlfriend."
"And you realise I'm still going to enjoy fucking her, right?" She had to understand that I actually really liked fucking Kristin.
"I know. I'm not worried about it. You might enjoy fucking her, but I'll make sure you love fucking me. I'll make sure you desire me more than you desire her. You'll want to fuck me all day, every day. You'll want to fuck me even when you're fucking her."
I smiled. "Well, it's working. I already want to fuck you more."
"When does Kristin get back from work?"
"She's off at eleven." I knew where this was going.
"Good," she smiled, "then get to it. And don't stop fucking me until eleven."
18 Feb 2012
Fucking Catherine Corinne
I met my high school sweetheart Catherine in level five, when I was eleven. My family had just moved from the city to the country, so I ended up changing schools a month or two before the end of the school year. Catherine was the first girl I spotted when I was taken into my new class: she had a pretty face with dimples, long blonde hair, very blue eyes, and a wonderful--though shy--smile.
And, even then, at age 12, she had curves and a large pair of tits. In fact, she had the biggest tits in the class, not only that year but for a few years to come. I wanted to play with those tits from the moment I saw her.
We became boyfriend/girlfriend about a year later, and, with the exception of our second year of high school, we were together right up until a few weeks before we graduated.
And, eventually, I did get to play with those tits. I got to play with those tits quite a bit. And, as I thought, they were fucking spectacular: big and firm, and with small, soft nipples that responded perfectly to my fingertips and my tongue. And, to my surprise, Catherine loved having her nipples nibbled on.
And that's where the problem was: a good Catholic girl, over the years Catherine slowly let our blossoming sex life progress, but always only to a point...a point just shy of my cock penetrating her pussy.
It started, in fact, with me stroking her tits in the back seat of my car. Then she gave me full access, first with my hands, then with my mouth. When that got old, and I let her know in no uncertain terms that I wanted more, hands started finding their way into pants. Soon I was making her moan with my fingers, and then she started working her way up to giving me handjobs. At that point, I argued, it was time for us to consummate our many years together. I wanted her virginity. And I wanted to fuck her.
But she was a little too devoted to Jesus. Sure, she said, she wanted to fuck me, and she thought nothing would be more romantic than the two of us giving each other our virginity (she didn't know that I had given mine to Victoria a couple of years earlier) but she was convinced it was a sin that she would burn in Hell for later.
But, she said, she was pretty sure she could safely blow me while avoiding the fire and brimstone.
When I finished scratching my head, and wondering about the logic behind her thinking, I decided I could live with blowjobs while continuing my campaign to gain entry into her pussy.
It turned out, she learned very quickly to give great head. After she got past the surprise of having my cum explode into her mouth the first time, she always--always--swallowed, and by the third time she blew me, she had learned to deep throat me. After a couple of Friday and Saturday nights in the back seat, she was blowing me like a pro. And she really enjoyed it. She said so many times.
But Jesus--the Jesus who was just fine with her taking my cock all the way down her throat until a huge load of my cum exploded down her esophagus but was just waiting for my cock to push through her labia so that he could send her to Hell for eternity--continued to stand between me and Catherine's Holy Grail.
Eventually one Friday night my frustration turned into an argument, followed by a very long phone call that went late into the night. Somewhere around 1AM I drove to her house, parked way down at the end of the driveway, and walked up to her house. I tapped on her window, and she slid it open long enough to tell me to go away. I told her I was going to go sit in my car at the end of the driveway, and if she would like to talk about it, she could sneak out and join me.
Catherine's sister, Corinne, had heard me tapping at the window, and went into Catherine's room to find out what was going on. They talked for about fifteen minutes: Corinne took my side, telling Catherine that her reason for not fucking me was silly, and suggested Catherine start fucking me before someone else did, but Catherine didn't budge. Finally, Corinne told Catherine she should at least sneak out, meet me, and tell me to go home. Catherine refused, and told Corinne she should do it if she was so concerned about me.
And that's how Catherine's sister Corinne ended up in my car at 1:30AM one Friday night wearing nothing but a robe, panties and slippers.
Corinne related her entire conversation with Catherine to me, and ended by saying, "I told her if she didn't fuck you someone else would. And I told her that if I were her I would fuck you."
I looked at her, and said, "Really?"
"Of course," she said. "Who wouldn't?"
We both suddenly realised where we were, and the significant moral boundary we were in danger of crossing. After a solid minute of quiet contemplation, I decided to let her make the next move.
She did.
She slowly tugged the belt around her waist and pulled her robe open just enough that I could see her right breast and hip. I reached over and pulled her robe open the rest of the way. Corinne looked a lot like Catherine--face, dimples, hair, eyes, height, curves--but Corinne's tits were smaller. But I'm a hips and ass man, and Corinne had Catherine's hips and ass. And besides, smaller tits can be just as sexy as bigger tits--and Corinne's tits were all sorts of sexy.
Corinne climbed into the back seat, and then I joined her. She laid back, her robe falling open to reveal the body I now wanted more than Catherine's, and I ran my hands up her legs and thighs to her hips. She lifted her ass off the seat, and I slid her panties down and off. She pulled her knees up and then opened them to give me complete access. I leaned down and began kissing her soft, blonde hair, then slide my tongue between her labia and into her cunt. She tasted delicious. I could feel with my tongue that she was very tight, and only slightly wet, but she grabbed my head, closed her eyes, and began moaning as I licked and sucked her labia and clit. It did not take me long to bring her to a quiet, but intense, orgasm.
I continued licking her labia for several minutes until she calmed down, then I sat up and unbuttoned my jean and took them off. My cock was rock hard and throbbing, and I noticed Corinne staring at it. "You've got a big cock," she said. "Bigger than my boyfriend's. I'm not sure I can do this."
"Don't worry, it'll fit, and I'll be very gentle," I said, moving between her spread legs. She smiled as she grabbed my cock and guided the tip between her wet, hairy lips. As I worked it slowly into her cunt, she used her hand to make sure I didn't penetrate her too quickly. When I was half-way in, I laid down on her, she wrapped her legs around me, and we began fucking. At first it was a little unpleasant for her, but after a few minutes she relaxed and began to enjoy it more. I fucked her very slowly, not only trying to be gentle but also wanting it to last longer. But Corinne was was too tight, and I was way too worked up, for it to last long. After about five minutes I gushed inside her.
"Damn," I said. "I was hoping that would have lasted longer."
She smiled at me. "That's okay, let's do it again."
I love sloppy seconds.
We sat up, kissing and touching and making out until I started to get hard again. I squeezed her small but sexy tits, and rubbed and pinched her small, but rubbery, nipples. She leaned back, inviting me to kiss and suck on them, and I eagerly obliged. When she responded, I sucked harder, then began nibbling. Like her sister, Corinne loved having her nipples nibbled, so I gradually increased the intensity until I was pretty much biting them. She loved it.
She leaned down, took my cock into her mouth and sucked me for a few minutes. Then she sat up, straddled me, and worked herself down onto my cock. This time it lasted much longer, and Corinne touched herself as she fucked me as slowly as she could. After she came, and her back and legs started to tire, I laid her on her back and fucked her slowly and gently until I came inside her again. Then I collapsed on her for several minutes before she decided she should return to the house.
We kissed goodnight, silently agreeing never to tell another soul of our immoral transgression.
Many years later, when I ran across Corinne's photo on her company's web site, I wondered for a brief moment if she had ever told Catherine about what we had done. And I wondered if Jesus would see to it that we would both burn in Hell for eternity.
Either way, I don't care. Fucking Catherine Corinne was totally worth it.
17 Feb 2012
Fucking Wenona
I met Wenona a couple of months after I broke up with Janni. Wenona was my friend Erika's roommate for a while before Erika moved out and, in an odd twist, became roommates with Janni. I met Wenona one night when she and Erika were out getting coffee--in the same coffee shop where a few weeks later I would meet Lina. Wenona was blonde, of average height, and rather skinny, but she had an amazing pair of tits, quite a nice ass, beautiful blue eyes, and a great smile. I could also tell she had a dark side, which meant we had some things in common. We hit it off immediately: we sat and talked for three hours that night, and by the time we parted, had agreed to go out dancing the following Friday night.
The next day Erika confirmed for me that Wenona as as interested in me as I was in her. But, Erika cautioned, Wenona was involved in a love triangle with two of their other roommates--a particularly uncomfortable situation that a few months later would cause Erika to move into an apartment with Janni--and Wenona was as much the problem as the other two roommates. "There are no innocents," she said.
I knew Wenona was close to graduating, and would be moving away after that, so I was pretty sure there was not a lot of potential for a long-term relationship, but I was certain there was sufficient chemistry and attraction for a short-term relationship. "That's okay," I told Erika, "I like damaged women who have a dark side and very definite moral flaws. Besides, I don't want to marry her, I just want to hang out with her and fuck her a few dozen times before she graduates." Nevertheless, I considered myself forewarned.
The the next day I had flowers delivered to Wenona in the lab she worked in, telling her how much I was looking forward to Friday night. However, things changed: I awoke Friday morning to the news that a friend had died the previous night in his sleep. Stan was my age, and had recently married another friend of mine, a single mom with a young daughter Stan had adopted when they married.
There is no pain like that caused by the death of someone so amazing and so young.
Devastated by the news, I decided to drive out to the ocean and spend the day sitting in the sand and listening to the waves. On the way out of town, I stopped to see Erika and Wenona and tell them what had happened, and that instead of going dancing that night I was going to the ocean.
To my surprise, Wenona asked if I'd like some company. I said yes.
It was a great decision. We spent the entire afternoon and evening at the ocean, and it turned out Wenona was the perfect companion: she knew almost instinctively when I wanted to just sit and think, quietly, and she knew when I wanted to talk; and when I wanted to talk, she just let me talk and she listened and empathised. Afterwards, I knew I still didn't have any answers, but I felt a little better despite not having any answers. We drove home in complete silence.
As we neared town, she asked if I'd like some company that night. I said yes, and she suggested I drop her off at her place so she could get her car. She grabbed her Honda and followed me across town. When we got to my place, she grabbed an overnight bag from the boot and followed me into my apartment.
You've got to love a woman who keeps an overnight bag in the boot of her car.
When we got inside, she headed straight to the bedroom, set down her overnight bag, and began taking off all of her clothes. A little surprised, I just stood there and watched in disbelief, until she walked over to me and began helping me out of my clothes. "We're covered in sand, we need to shower. And then I'm going to take you to bed and fuck you and fuck you and fuck you until you forget all about today...even if tomorrow morning you wake up and remember it all again."
I looked at her and suddenly realised this was not a woman I was going to be able to fuck a few dozen times and be okay when we parted ways. Even though I knew any relationship we might develop would have a very definite expiration date, I now realised that when it was over I was going to hurt. This sexy, skinny blonde with perfect tits and amazing ass and gorgeous blue eyes and wonderful smile was going to hurt me. Badly. And there was nothing I could do about it. I had to follow it through to the painful end.
We got into the shower, washed all of the sand from our hair and between our toes, and then got into bed. And then, just as she had promised, Wenona climbed on top of me, guided my cock into her tight, wet pussy, and proceeded to fuck me and fuck me and fuck me until I forgot all about that day.
The next morning I got up early, went and got us coffee and muffins, and brought them back. When we were done eating breakfast, she set her coffee down, climbed on top of me once again, and stroked my cock with her vulva until I was throbbing. Then she slid down on me, pulled her T-shirt off, and rode me until I exploded inside her again. Afterward, she pulled off and straddled me, kissing me while our cum drained out of her cunt and formed a wet spot on my abdomen. Then she led me to the shower, where we fucked again, first me fucking her standing up from behind, then her turning around so that I could fuck her face to face with her leg wrapped around my waist and her perfect tits rubbing against my chest. I didn't care that we wasted an hour's worth of water in the process.
The fact was, I didn't want her to leave. I was already dreading the break-up I knew was coming, and i knew her leaving that morning was going to be the first painful indication of things to come.
As she was leaving, I stopped her at the front door. I still wasn't ready for her to go yet. For the second time in my life, I fucked a woman up against a door. And then she left. Afterward I cried.
I tried to convince myself that the tears were for Stan. But I knew better. I was mourning more than his death.
There is no pain like that caused by the death of someone--or something--so amazing and so young.
The next day Erika confirmed for me that Wenona as as interested in me as I was in her. But, Erika cautioned, Wenona was involved in a love triangle with two of their other roommates--a particularly uncomfortable situation that a few months later would cause Erika to move into an apartment with Janni--and Wenona was as much the problem as the other two roommates. "There are no innocents," she said.
I knew Wenona was close to graduating, and would be moving away after that, so I was pretty sure there was not a lot of potential for a long-term relationship, but I was certain there was sufficient chemistry and attraction for a short-term relationship. "That's okay," I told Erika, "I like damaged women who have a dark side and very definite moral flaws. Besides, I don't want to marry her, I just want to hang out with her and fuck her a few dozen times before she graduates." Nevertheless, I considered myself forewarned.
The the next day I had flowers delivered to Wenona in the lab she worked in, telling her how much I was looking forward to Friday night. However, things changed: I awoke Friday morning to the news that a friend had died the previous night in his sleep. Stan was my age, and had recently married another friend of mine, a single mom with a young daughter Stan had adopted when they married.
There is no pain like that caused by the death of someone so amazing and so young.
Devastated by the news, I decided to drive out to the ocean and spend the day sitting in the sand and listening to the waves. On the way out of town, I stopped to see Erika and Wenona and tell them what had happened, and that instead of going dancing that night I was going to the ocean.
To my surprise, Wenona asked if I'd like some company. I said yes.
It was a great decision. We spent the entire afternoon and evening at the ocean, and it turned out Wenona was the perfect companion: she knew almost instinctively when I wanted to just sit and think, quietly, and she knew when I wanted to talk; and when I wanted to talk, she just let me talk and she listened and empathised. Afterwards, I knew I still didn't have any answers, but I felt a little better despite not having any answers. We drove home in complete silence.
As we neared town, she asked if I'd like some company that night. I said yes, and she suggested I drop her off at her place so she could get her car. She grabbed her Honda and followed me across town. When we got to my place, she grabbed an overnight bag from the boot and followed me into my apartment.
You've got to love a woman who keeps an overnight bag in the boot of her car.
When we got inside, she headed straight to the bedroom, set down her overnight bag, and began taking off all of her clothes. A little surprised, I just stood there and watched in disbelief, until she walked over to me and began helping me out of my clothes. "We're covered in sand, we need to shower. And then I'm going to take you to bed and fuck you and fuck you and fuck you until you forget all about today...even if tomorrow morning you wake up and remember it all again."
I looked at her and suddenly realised this was not a woman I was going to be able to fuck a few dozen times and be okay when we parted ways. Even though I knew any relationship we might develop would have a very definite expiration date, I now realised that when it was over I was going to hurt. This sexy, skinny blonde with perfect tits and amazing ass and gorgeous blue eyes and wonderful smile was going to hurt me. Badly. And there was nothing I could do about it. I had to follow it through to the painful end.
We got into the shower, washed all of the sand from our hair and between our toes, and then got into bed. And then, just as she had promised, Wenona climbed on top of me, guided my cock into her tight, wet pussy, and proceeded to fuck me and fuck me and fuck me until I forgot all about that day.
The next morning I got up early, went and got us coffee and muffins, and brought them back. When we were done eating breakfast, she set her coffee down, climbed on top of me once again, and stroked my cock with her vulva until I was throbbing. Then she slid down on me, pulled her T-shirt off, and rode me until I exploded inside her again. Afterward, she pulled off and straddled me, kissing me while our cum drained out of her cunt and formed a wet spot on my abdomen. Then she led me to the shower, where we fucked again, first me fucking her standing up from behind, then her turning around so that I could fuck her face to face with her leg wrapped around my waist and her perfect tits rubbing against my chest. I didn't care that we wasted an hour's worth of water in the process.
The fact was, I didn't want her to leave. I was already dreading the break-up I knew was coming, and i knew her leaving that morning was going to be the first painful indication of things to come.
As she was leaving, I stopped her at the front door. I still wasn't ready for her to go yet. For the second time in my life, I fucked a woman up against a door. And then she left. Afterward I cried.
I tried to convince myself that the tears were for Stan. But I knew better. I was mourning more than his death.
There is no pain like that caused by the death of someone--or something--so amazing and so young.
16 Feb 2012
15 Feb 2012
Fucking Lina
I met Lina in a coffee shop. She was Asian--and born in Asia--but ethnically only half Asian, a mix that was rather unique but resembled somewhat, but definitely not completely, Puerto Rican or Filipino. But with more Asian features. She had a distinct and beautiful face, a bit angled, and despite being tall and thin, with rather small hips, she had a great ass. The first thought that entered my mind when I first saw her was: I want to sink my teeth so deep into her ass that she would need sutures to stop the bleeding.
We were together most of seventeen years, and never once did I get bored biting, pinching or slapping her ass. Even after she pushed out our two kids, her ass was spectacular. Actually, pushing out two kids improved her ass because it widened her hips.
But as spectacular as her ass was, her pussy was even more spectacular. And pushing out two kids improved her pussy as well. I loved burying my tongue and cock in her pussy.
Lina was nineteen when we met, and I was about ten years her senior. I was fucking Wenona at the time--and really enjoying fucking Wenona at the time--but I knew Wenona was little more than a one night stand that had simply not ended yet. I had given it six weeks, and, as it turned out, that was not too far off. When Wenona and I finally split, I started spending more time with Lina. And not long after that, one Friday night after hanging out at the bar listening to a band, I took Lina home, pulled her jeans and panties down to her knees, and buried my teeth in her ass.
And about ten minutes later, I rolled her over and buried my tongue in her pussy.
Lina had the wettest, tastiest cunt I'd ever had the pleasure to slide my tongue into. By a long shot. Her juices literally dripped from her pussy, and had this thick, slick consistency that made eating her absolute heaven. So it's no surprise that that first time--like so many times afterward--I licked and sucked her pussy until she literally begged me to stop. What is a surprise is that I did actually stop when she begged me to. What I remember most is wanting to keep licking her until...I don't know...probably until my tongue fell off. In any case, when she had cum three or four times, and her clit had probably reached its limit for the time being, she begged me to stop.
So I pulled my tongue out of her juicy, delicious cunt and thrust my hard, throbbing cock into her...and buried it all the way to the hilt with the first thrust. It turned out Lina also had the loosest, sloppiest cunt I'd ever thrust my cock into. By a long shot. Her thick, slick juices that literally dripped from her pussy? They made fucking her absolute heaven as well. Even at nineteen, before kids, her cunt was so soft and loose and sloppy that I could fuck her for hours without cumming. Never once in all the years we were together, and all the times I fucked her, did I have to work my cock into her pussy. I could always just bury it all the way with the first thrust. And fucking her pretty much always felt like heaven. It was soft and wet and warm and juicy and slick. Lina always left a huge wet spot.
[I know most men love tight pussy. They're idiots. Tight pussy makes a man cum fast. And who the FUCK wants to minimise the time they spend fucking a woman? It makes no sense.]
We spent most of the entire weekend fucking. By the time Lina went home on Monday morning I had fucked her thirteen times, and she could barely walk due to the cramps in her feet from curling her toes every time she came. In fact, we were both as sore as hell: every muscle in our bodies ached. It was great sex. It was fucking great sex.
There is a lot more to fucking a woman than just physics, though, and over the years those other things eventually took their toll. But even when the emotional aspects of our relationship were for shit--even when we were separated and living apart, or living together but emotionally just going through the motions--I pretty much always loved fucking Lina.
We were together most of seventeen years, and never once did I get bored biting, pinching or slapping her ass. Even after she pushed out our two kids, her ass was spectacular. Actually, pushing out two kids improved her ass because it widened her hips.
But as spectacular as her ass was, her pussy was even more spectacular. And pushing out two kids improved her pussy as well. I loved burying my tongue and cock in her pussy.
Lina was nineteen when we met, and I was about ten years her senior. I was fucking Wenona at the time--and really enjoying fucking Wenona at the time--but I knew Wenona was little more than a one night stand that had simply not ended yet. I had given it six weeks, and, as it turned out, that was not too far off. When Wenona and I finally split, I started spending more time with Lina. And not long after that, one Friday night after hanging out at the bar listening to a band, I took Lina home, pulled her jeans and panties down to her knees, and buried my teeth in her ass.
And about ten minutes later, I rolled her over and buried my tongue in her pussy.
Lina had the wettest, tastiest cunt I'd ever had the pleasure to slide my tongue into. By a long shot. Her juices literally dripped from her pussy, and had this thick, slick consistency that made eating her absolute heaven. So it's no surprise that that first time--like so many times afterward--I licked and sucked her pussy until she literally begged me to stop. What is a surprise is that I did actually stop when she begged me to. What I remember most is wanting to keep licking her until...I don't know...probably until my tongue fell off. In any case, when she had cum three or four times, and her clit had probably reached its limit for the time being, she begged me to stop.
So I pulled my tongue out of her juicy, delicious cunt and thrust my hard, throbbing cock into her...and buried it all the way to the hilt with the first thrust. It turned out Lina also had the loosest, sloppiest cunt I'd ever thrust my cock into. By a long shot. Her thick, slick juices that literally dripped from her pussy? They made fucking her absolute heaven as well. Even at nineteen, before kids, her cunt was so soft and loose and sloppy that I could fuck her for hours without cumming. Never once in all the years we were together, and all the times I fucked her, did I have to work my cock into her pussy. I could always just bury it all the way with the first thrust. And fucking her pretty much always felt like heaven. It was soft and wet and warm and juicy and slick. Lina always left a huge wet spot.
[I know most men love tight pussy. They're idiots. Tight pussy makes a man cum fast. And who the FUCK wants to minimise the time they spend fucking a woman? It makes no sense.]
We spent most of the entire weekend fucking. By the time Lina went home on Monday morning I had fucked her thirteen times, and she could barely walk due to the cramps in her feet from curling her toes every time she came. In fact, we were both as sore as hell: every muscle in our bodies ached. It was great sex. It was fucking great sex.
There is a lot more to fucking a woman than just physics, though, and over the years those other things eventually took their toll. But even when the emotional aspects of our relationship were for shit--even when we were separated and living apart, or living together but emotionally just going through the motions--I pretty much always loved fucking Lina.
13 Feb 2012
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)