His skills and frustration

DB continuously astounds me in bed. Okay, maybe there's a flub here or there. But he is absolutely the best lover I've ever had and he is amazing at making me come when he wants to.

I honestly can't keep track of how many orgasms I have with him. Whether it's a couple that come in waves or many, many of them one after the other, I can't seem to figure out. And even if I could, I'm too distracted to count.

Last time we had sex I realized he's figured out how to make me come during vaginal sex. You know, that type of sex that they say roughly 80% of fail to reach orgasm during?  Yeah, that one. After the second or third one it suddenly struck me that I was having orgasms. As if somehow I could have not noticed.

DB cleared up any doubt I mind tonight when he made me come multiple times with his cock buried inside me, not using a special "coital alignment" grind. He just fucks me that good.

In fact, he was fucking me doggy style trying to find his own orgasm and I came twice. The second one was at the same time he came. I've heard of this magical "simultaneous orgasm" but never thought I'd experience one. Kinda cool, but I really do find pleasure in fully experiencing my partner's orgasm. So won't mind much of it doesn't happen again. But how interesting that it did!

You can't go back

Of course I'm a mess. There's been a lot of stress in my life. So it's no surprise that I'm romanticizing and in love with DB.

It's been two weeks since I last saw him. I went and saw him again tonight. It wasn't quite the same. I realize I'm asking things of him he can't give me. I need to practice enjoying the things he can give me.

The number one thing he gives me is amazing sex. His cock feels amazing inside me. I live for the pleasure of feeling him bury himself in me.

His cock feels so amazing I find myself coming just from his fucking. It's ridiculous. Usually I'm more reserved, but there's something about having him in me that I lose control. I come. Over and over.

I'm so lucky to have that. And I know it.

It's been just over two weeks since I last saw DB. I haven't seen anyone else. I'm hopelessly in love with him. He's not perfect. But the sex is. Oh my god the sex!

And there's a little more.

But more importantly, I think he might be my Mr. Darcy. Cool, calm, collected, serious, sexy, and amazing. I try not to be too much of a romantic about it. But seriously. It's hard not to be in this case.

I gotta stop.

High Fantasy

DB asked that I get high, masturbate and then tell him about what I fantasized him doing to me. He'd make it happen, he promised.

Could he be any more charming? What better seduction? Even romance? He seduces me with words and promises and then actually follows through.

So here I am high. Sitting on the couch and thinking about DB's touch. What do I fantasize?

Always his touch and his voice. His lips barely more than as breath against my ear whispering dirty wonderful threats our violence and pleasure. Just his amazing, sexy voice my ear.

Gathering my hair into his fist and pulling my head back, exposing my neck to his teeth, dragging them over the flesh. His tongue teasing the same areas.

Feeling his nails drag over my skin, drawing lines and random shapes leaving pale pink tracings behind.

The feel of his body settling between my legs.

By then the orgasms begin and my thoughts shatter into a million points of pleasure.

An unreal dream

Being with DB is very much an unreal dream. Our coming together is something altogether overwhelming to me at times. He has flaws. I'm sure soon I'll figure it the fatal one that will ruin the fairy tale fantasy that is in my head.

I don't want to marry him or move in with him. I just want him to be my main guy for sex. And I don't want any beautiful, willing submissive women stepping into my place. Though I know, at some point, I will be usurped. I'm okay with that. Except when I'm not.

DB and I have a nice chemistry that really works. I maintain that my desire for him is at least twice his desire for me... But I've never dared say it. I can only imagine his irritation at my uniquely inflated ego.

Almost every time I see him, I bring a new toy. Tonight I brought an older toy we've never used and a newer flogger. We used both.

While DB flogged me, I cried. Not in sadness, for sure. Just a reaction to the pain and uncertainty. I think he's noticed how much I like to be aware of what he's doing, but he delights in surprising me. Switching floggers or changing to a paddle, without warning. Tonight he warned me not to peek. That delightful fear and anticipation was enough to make me cry.

Afterward, he let me come over and over again as he always does. The beauty of the feelings, the never ending orgasms, feeling him close, it was all enough to bring tears back to my eyes as I came for him.

I crave him. I want him.

And I know it's new relationship energy and sub frenzy and every other thing that comes with a new lover and intense experiences... But I love him, too.

There are times when I've been away from a lover for a week or more and been hungry for them. I fantasize about the sexual explosion that I know we've earned from the long absence. And then we get back together and I think "that's it? That's what I get?"

I've had a lot of disappointing encounters, even with men I have strong appreciation for. One thing I can say for DB is that there was none of that "that's it?"

DB went out of town for just over a week and came back. I ached to feel his body against mine, his cock inside me. I looked forward to the feel of his tongue against my own and the way his fingers would tug and pull on my nipples, sending thrilling shocks of delight through my body.

Somehow, I was sure that when we got back together it would be nothing short of explosive. And I was right, this time.

The one thing DB and I have is chemistry. My lust for him is matched only by his lust for me. My desire to feel the kiss of leather on my skin equaled by his desire to make me moan and gasp from the flogger he wields.

I think I've bought all the floggers he's used on me. The suede one I ordered that took several weeks to arrive appears to be our favorite. Purple suede falls with a kind round tip. He can make it hurt, but only with a lot of effort and desire on his part. Mostly it's a sexy, teasing kind of massage.

He likes to make me hurt. But only so far as I enjoy it. It's one of the things I love about him. I never get the feeling he enjoys hurting me out of anger or hatred towards women in general or me, specifically. He likes to hurt me as much as I want the sensation. And then he likes to make me come over and over.

So when he came back into town and we got back together I threw myself into his arms. And there was no looking back.

J is finally coming into his own.

Jared was the second person I had sex with other than my husband, in the last ten or so years. Once Dan let me down I still wanted Jared but I wasn't sure what he'd give me.

I started seeing B and ultimately confessed my disappointment in the way things with Jared we're going. I told B of the things I'd foolishly done. B told me I needed to go back to Jared with my tail between my legs and make sure he knew that I knew it's made a terrible mistake in what I had done.

My sad, heartfelt apology for my foolishness seemed to work, because he agreed to see me again. Since then, Jared has been a wonderful, steady, calming influence in my life. I'm grateful everytime I have the pleasure of his company. And I know I'm surely too effusive about it for his comfort. But he is a good man and I want him to know I recognize it.

Now, eight months later despite long pauses in our relationship, we are finally coming into our own. We're getting a feel one another as more than just passing lovers. He's begun to express his dirtier fantasies. Things I'm eager to show him and do to him.

Last night I finally handed him the magic wand and told him to help me come. I'm still very pleasantly surprised by how happy I am. Knowing that he now has the ability to give me the endless orgasms I have come to expect... I've gone from being a little sweet on him to being in love.

It might not really be the case but there's something about the way he kisses my forehead and squeezes me hard while seeming to be afraid to break me that absolutely melts my heart.

For instance...

I went to DB's place on Friday. I bought a new leather flogger with me. I had opened the box and felt it, sniffed the rich leather scent. But hadn't really played with it. I felt bad for even opening it. It was my gift to DB. But I really couldn't help myself.

My work week was already stressful. And there is something about going to see DB where I get extremely anxious in every sense of the word. I need him, to feel him, and to come with him. But I'm afraid of what will happen, too. Not that he wants to injure me. But being with him is intense in a way I've never felt before. And it's daunting.

When I got to his apartment I sat in the car a few extra moments, telling myself I was doing anything but procrastinating. But that's exactly what I was doing. Fear, excitement. It's a lot.

So I went up the three flights of stairs and knocked on his door. He opened it and let me in as he always does, moving away to give me my space as I set my stuff down and say hi. This time he kissed me hello.

I went and sat down in the couch, sitting on the edge, back straight, slightly away from him as he sat down next to me. Usually I head to the bedroom and strip down before laying on the bed, naked while I wait for him.

I saw that the door to his deck was open and commented on it. He told me it was for the cat's benefit.. We ended up having a brief, weird argument about the cat and the deck and being on the third floor. And then he actually started mansplaining to me. I didn't realise it at the time. But telling my husband about the argument suddenly made me realize that is made it clear to DB that I was very familiar with what I was saying and he still managed to explain it all to me....

Despite that, I gave him the box and he opened it, taking out the flogger. I think I kissed him a moment and he asked if I'd like to go try it out. I laughed and said yes.

I preceded him into the bedroom and stripped, throwing myself down on the bed in the direct breeze from the air conditioner. He fiddled around a bit before I finally feel the gentle slap of the leather on my skin.

That particular flogger, as it turns out, is almost all thud and no sting. It felt like a massage rather than a flogging. DB tried to hit me harder but it was really more of the same. He ultimately ended up switching between that and another flogger with much more sting.

I never thought I'd say it but I really like that sting. Even when it becomes just a bit too much. I like it. I want it.

The session entered as our sessions always do, the magic wand on my clit as he uses the glass dildo on my gspot forcing me to orgasm after wonderful orgasm. I think I could come as long as he had the stamina to let me, although I've been on the edge of "too much" that way, too.

It's a good problem to have.

Coming

I tend to think of men as "cumming" and women as coming. I'm not sure why. Being a teenager and watching the internet become more like it is today I feel like maybe that's when the word diverged to two spellings. Reading online.

I'm sure that's also a very teenagerish thing to say. My generation came up with these spellings. No, I know we didn't.

Regardless, I've found myself a lover who makes me come. And not by accident he does this. No, it's all skill. And I come long, hard, and often. It's amazing. I crave to be his devoted servant.

What I've discovered is that the more he makes me come, the less coming alone satisfies me. It's frustrating and awesome.

On the other hand, I just masturbated to orgasm and it made my toes tingle. So maybe there's something to this....

Another notch on the bed post

Last night at approximately 10:30 PM I finally bagged (and banged) a Marine. And it was amazing.

Giving up?

I've been really busy the last few months meeting and fucking all sorts of men. In a lot of ways the experience has changed me for the better. It's been really interesting to watch my attitude, my wants, my desires change.

Several months ago when I slept with Josh (A) I feel like I ultimately was a better person for it. I can't think of the last time I felt like that. I always learn something. I always really get something out of it... as with all mistakes and all learning experiences.

At least with Josh (A) I leaned someone else could make me come. That it was worth it to be patient with my body and just let it happen. He really taught me something important.

With the lesson from Josh (A) I moved on to Josh (B) who then gave me my first orgasm using just his hands and mouth. Truly someone else could get me there. And do it with sheer patience and willpower.

And between them I discovered multiple orgasms and the difference between a self  administered orgasm and those from a lover.

Two men in the dozens I've had sex with over the years.

That's not okay.

I was talking to B the other night and we were discussing the number of people we'd had sex with. I still don't know his number. I don't actually care. I don't even know my own number. But he asked me at one point, in reference to the number "does oral sex count as sex?"

And that just set me off. Because honestly, I don't care if it does or doesn't. But it suddenly struck me that the question wasn't really "does oral sex count" but "do blow jobs count?"

In both his case and mine the question of "do blow jobs count" makes the number different. "Does pussy eating count?" Makes zero difference.

That's not okay.

So tonight I knew I wanted to get laid. I picked a guy who turned out to be very, very local, because of where he was staying. "I enjoy giving oral...i truly live to give women orgasms...its a rush for me," he said.

I got to his hotel and he informed me he'd left his door open. I got there, and walked in laughing "how do you know I'm not a murderer?!"

I got comfortable on the bed and he gave me a glass of wine. I settled in and we chatted. Maybe I made the mistake by admitting what a slut I've been. Maybe it wouldn't have made a difference.

Whatever the case he eventually made his move and we were both naked. His fingers found my clit and he teased it a bit. His cock was hard and close by so I grasped it, jerking it slowly.

Being me, I couldn't help myself. "Don't let me take this too far," I warned him just before I took him into my mouth.

He stopped me pretty quickly, hopped out of the bed and rolled on a condom. It was clear that even that simulation was a bit much for him. I moved into my knees inviting him to fuck me doggy style.

He moved behind me and slid inside. His cock nicely filling me. I knew he'd have a hard time. What I didn't expect was for him to come within about five strokes.

He did warn me. He also told me "I'll have to owe you a second round."

Once he came he cleaned himself up and sat back down in the desk chair. Surprising me a bit. I maybe he would come back to bed. But no.

We talked another minute or two and he began to work on his laptop. I lazed on the bed, drink and falling asleep, expecting the second round... eventually.

"Are you okay?" He asked me.

"What? Yes," I said.

"It's just you're the one that has to drive."

I thought about that a bit, drunkenly, thinking it was an odd thing to say. Was he telling me to leave?

"I'm a bit drunk right now," I told him. "The world is spinning a bit. I'll sober up."

He was not committal and turned on the TV, returning to work.

I lay on the bed a while before I started getting cold so I moved under the covers for warmth. "Oh, are you staying?" He asked.

"As long as it takes to get sober," I said.

So he was kicking me out.

He went back to working and I lay around a bit longer before finally starting to get dressed, slowly.  Pissed. I didn't want to talk to him. I didn't want to be there anymore. I didn't quite know what to say or do.

I grabbed my phone and went to my dating profiles and began deleting things from them, my friends, my information, turning off my profiles.

I was finally dressed but still in bed when he got up to use the bathroom. I lay there a long moment before I realized that was the answer. I slipped on my shoes, grabbed my keys and booked it out of the room.

He texted me after I got home "Hey...sorry you left...i was nodding while working."

"Go to sleep," I responded.

Is he really that oblivious?

That is not okay.

A regrettable choice

Last night I was exceptionally horny. For some reason I haven't managed to get laid as often as I want. Right now my car is having trouble and since I can't host and I don't want to drive more than I have to... I'm at a bit of a disadvantage. So, I've been refusing plans left and right.

On the other hand, as the months have gone by I've gotten more and more slutty. A few weeks ago I had sex with four different men on one night-- one of them being one of my regulars. The others? Strangers. I think one of them might have been named Steve. I'm not sure, though.

Neither Steve, nor his friend, nor the other guy who fucked me were people I'd normally choose to have sex with. Mostly older, not really what I consider particularly attractive. But all that mattered that night was the way I felt. And they all felt good. Some better than others.

So last night I got very impatient like I tend to do. I just needed to be filled. I start looking for meaningless sex that won't necessarily satisfy me but will at least take the edge off the hunger.  If I'm lucky he'll be a bit like the other recent one night stand that also have me the first manual orgasm I didn't give myself.

Because of my recent slutty experiences I've gradually been loosening up my restrictions on exactly who I will fuck. The recent one night stand was not someone if have chosen, normally. But thank goodness I did!

And so, when I got the random request for a hook up in the middle of the night from a young guy who was leaving town in the early morning I was more receptive than normal.

He was cute, too, so we met up. Talking to him was easy. We got along pretty well. But he also told me I was his first meeting from the site. It had been a few months since he had gotten laid. He was 24. I laughed uncomfortably.  None of that stopped me, though.

Ultimately, I took him to a wooded area near my house. We trekked back to a place where the grass was already flattened. Someone else had clearly already done something similar in the same place.

I spread out the blanket and sat down, making room for him.  And then we talked a bit more. "Are you sure you want to do this?" I asked him more than once, assuring him that if at any point he wanted to change his mind I would not have hurt feelings.

Ultimately, I went in for the first kiss. He quickly released his already swollen cock from his pants and gave me a moment to admire it. He was a fairly slight guy, short, very thin, and unexpectedly generously endowed. He pulled the top of my dress down to expose my breasts and latched on to a nipple, making sounds of appreciation.

While he entertained himself with my breasts, I took his cock in my hand, enjoying the hardness and size of it.  I asked him to move to up on the blanket a bit so I could taste him.

His cock was in my mouth a moment before he finally stood up and took off his pants completely. He helped me out of my dress and I sat before him, a naked, willing slut for his use.

He quickly returned his cock to my mouth but commented that he didn't want to come too soon. He must have gotten himself together because he began thrusting his cock deep into my mouth, forcing it's length into my throat.

I have an impressive gag reflex so I began gagging pretty quickly. I also have a strong desire to please so I did my best to take it. I ended up vomiting once, but went back to sucking his cock as he forced it down my throat over and over again.

Finally satisfied, he slid a condom on and told me to turn around. He knelt behind me and slid his thick cock into me and began thrusting. I could feel his cock forcing me open over and over. I clenched my pussy around him and felt and heard his response as he paused, breathing heavily.

We played a game of him trying to keep control of his orgasm while I tried to find mine and force his from him, squeezing my pussy around him rhythmically when he would stop moving. He asked me to turn over and pushed back inside me, alternately slapping, squeezing, and sucking my tits.

I could barely make out his face but I could see his concentration and watched with amusement as we brought him to the very brink of orgasm over and over. He wanted me to come for him, but it just wasn't there. And given the circumstances, I didn't mind so much. He felt amazing inside me. It's what I needed.

He finally asked me where I wanted him to come. "I don't care," I told him,  "wherever you want." He told me to get back onto my hands and knees and thrust into me a few times before telling me to turn over again. "I'm going to come on your face". I knelt before him, face upturned, mouth and tongue waiting excitedly for his offering.   He quickly soaked my face with his cum, somehow managing to avoid my eyes. I sucked the last few drops from his cock and smiled up at him, pleased with myself. And with him.

Once he was done, I used my underwear to wipe the remaining cum from my face. We redressed and walked back to my car. He asked me about his cock, wanting to know if I thought it was large. I agreed that it was, surprising for his frame but generous for any man.

I dropped him off at the airport and texted him to let me know how his trip ended.

This morning, I woke with regret. Not for anything we did. But for the 6 or 7 mosquito bites I discovered upon waking and several more I've found since then.....

Sex club

B suggested that had been to a sex club before and wanted to go back. I like B quite a lot so when he makes a suggestion, I listen.

It took a few weeks before I seriously entertained the idea. And then I asked him if he'd go with me. I paid for the adventure, since even though it was his idea in the first place, I was the one who wanted to pull the trigger.

We went through the required orientation. They asked me if I was scared away. I was not. Not remotely. I signed the paperwork and paid our fee and that was that.

I was still nervous. We sat down in a corner and chatted for a while. I finally got myself drunk enough that I told him I wanted to fuck. We wandered around the rooms, mostly empty, and choose one that wasn't already in use. We had sex in there, knowing others could stop in but no one else did.

Once I was into it we moved to a larger room, one with three couples already engaged with each other. I could see them next to us, not within arm's reach but close. I could see them in the mirrors on the ceiling and the walls. I cold hear them, mostly listening to the womens' gasps and moans of pleasure.

He went down, sucking my clit until I came for him, not a loud as some of the women but certainly holding my own. I could watch them, watch him, or just close my eyes and listen.

We fucked and sucked throughout the evening, in various rooms watching and listening to other people. We fucked in the shower and it felt amazing.

We left, finally, high on the thrill of the public sex and they live porn.

Our next visit was a little less tame.

It's so amazing to me that I am as busy as I am. I guess that's the way I design my life. I like to make sure I have things to do. Perhaps more than is good for me. As suck it's been almost two weeks since the last time I had sex.  I plan to hopefully fix that tonight.

Recently, though, I went to a local swingers/lifestyle club and had a great time. So great I went again a few days later. I'm holding off on a third visit if only so I don't get too used to the added excitement that comes from being there.

Oh but I want to go again.....

Firsts

I've been trying to keep really busy, sexually. It's been working pretty well. I love getting laid (just like most people). As always, my goal is to get laid a few times a week. I'm not as successful with that as I'd like.

My lovers have a terrible tendency to not meet my expectations when it comes to frequency. Most of them have perfectly reasonable reasons for not being available. Or we have scheduling conflicts.

So, I find myself looking for new lovers way more often than I like. But there is a certain joy in fucking someone new. Being touched in a different way. Getting to touch in a new and different way.

One of my lovers, Joss, was one of the first men I've been with to show not just tolerance or curiosity about sex toys but a genuine interest and appreciation for them.

I own a Hitachi Magic Wand, but he brought his along an attachment. And then he used it on me. For what was probably a very long time. It felt like it. It felt amazing.

He proceeded to give me my first orgasm for which a partner was solely responsible. And it turns out... It's pretty fucking amazing.  He was also responsible for the second.

The third came from another man. With the same name as the first, oddly. I think he'll end up being a one night stand, but you can imagine that's not my preference. He managed to get me off using his hands and mouth. And blew my mind.

Multiplication

I slept with Josh a few times. The first night I think he came three times. His cock isn't much to write home about. It's rather small and unassuming. But he's good with his hands and knows it very well.

I brought one of my vibrators with me one night and we tried to get me off with it. I did eventually come, but it wasn't easy and it was weak and disappointing.

He mentioned how disappointed he was by my lack of orgasms. I'd had to fight so hard to have that one... and it was very much the opposite of dramatic or even remotely interesting. I agreed with the thought... but I am so frustrated by my inability to come with lovers that when he said that I made the decision to not return the next day as had been planned. Even knowing that he may never return to my city.

However, two weeks later he was back and I decided to go see him again. This time he had his Hitachi magic wand and attachment.

There wasn't much warm up before he had that thing pressed up against my pussy. But it was too much to fast and I told him as much. I introduced him to my own attachment, solely used for gspot simulation which he eventually slid inside me from behind.

I turned back over and he switched back to his own attachment. A two parter that slid somewhat inside me and then also reached for my clit.  It was a lot at first, even then. The vibrations so strong I almost couldn't take it. And then suddenly it wasn't enough.

Earlier in the day, I be had been with another man. A man whose oral talents nearly bought me to orgasm three times. His cock, too, was incredibly impressive. Actually thick enough to be somewhat painful once he was inside.

Laying there with the magic wand pressed against my vulva, I envisioned the earlier man's tongue pressed so perfectly where it needed to be.  The man I was with right then pressed his mouth to mine and in moments I felt myself reaching the edge of orgasm.

When I finally came it wasn't a giant wave washing over me, leaving me quivering and sensitive and hungry for a cock inside my pussy. This time, it was a gentle wave that made me mystified as to what had happened.  It made me arch and moan and seek my lover's mouth hungrily. And then it disappeared only to return in the same gentle, surprising wave. Over and over again I felt myself give in to the pleasure, feeling it recede and return in a way I'd never experienced. Crying and panting into my lover's mouth between deep kisses.

I don't know how many times I came or how long it went on. What I know is eventually I came back to myself utterly happy and confused.

My first multiple orgasm. My first orgasm given to me by a lover.

It was amazing and perfect.

And now I want more.

A Kiss

I didn't think it was possible, but I may have found someone who actually likes to kiss as much or more as I do. Wow.

A bit after his second orgasm I leaned over to kiss him thoroughly. I wanted to thank him the best way I could think of and a deep kiss seemed to be the way to go.

He's a good kisser. A great kisser. But every time I would move to break the contact his hand would come up to cup the back of my neck, refusing the retreat.

Eventually he broke the kiss in order to move over me, impaling me on his now hard cock yet again. I exclaimed in wonder and he said softly "you're the one who started kissing me."

Oh, my.

On a whim, after Dan had declined to see me, yet again when I was available but he said he was not,I invited Jared over to the house I was watching. I didn't know much about him. Just that he was reasonably attractive, from his photos. Seemed kind and respectful and was available. Dan could fuck right off.

Jared took forever to get to the house. I think he showed up around ten, much to my irritation. I had to work in the morning and had hoped he'd arrive closer to eight.

None the less, I invited him in and we spent a good hour or more taking. He has this really interesting, rhythmical way of talking that boarders on poetry or rap. His voice has a smoothness to it that made his conversation almost musical. I could hear "the hood" in his words, a product of the tough city he grew up in, I later learned.

I encouraged him to talk almost the entire time, adding a word or sentence here and there to keep up the flow and make him forget that I hadn't volunteered much about myself. It's one of my ways of checking in that the person I'm with isn't crazy, listening to them talk about this or that.  It gives me time to study their mannerisms, their expression, the way they express themselves. 

He spent a lot of time gazing ahead of himself, glancing at me now and again, reaching out for a deliberate touch once in a while, gauging my own reaction. I didn't give him much. Finally he gestured to the small space on the love seat next to him, "do your want to come sit next to me?" He asked. Not really shyly, but making no demands.

I squinted at him for a second and finally stood up. "No. Let's just skip this." I took his hand and led him to the bedroom. He tagged behind me making some vague comment about his jacket which I ignored. 

Once in the bedroom I kicked off my shoes and offered him the bed. He sat down, leaning back on some pillows and I joined him. We talked another minute before he finally moved to draw me close, his mouth finding my own.

He was a decent kisser. Nothing magical. I love kissing, of course, so more is better to me, but he seemed reluctant. He was free with his teeth in a way I really enjoyed, though. 

He started to let his hands roam my body. I paused a moment, pulling my shirt forward to glance at what bra I was wearing. Nothing special but nothing dingy or threadbare. He laughed gently "making sure it's the right bra?" I smiled back, "it's not sexy, but it's not the worst" and pulled my shirt off, removing the bra very shortly after so he didn't get a very good look.

His hands and mouth quickly found my breasts as he pushed his hips against mine. I think I started to undo the belt of his jeans and he stood up and excused himself to quickly run back into the other room and grab his jacket which, it turned out, contained his condoms.

When he left, I stood up to take off my own pants and panties. I was just finishing up when he returned to the room. He pulled me gently but firmly so my back was pressed against his front and he could fondle my breasts. He brought his lips down on the side of my neck, causing me to writhe in pleasure, rubbing myself against his body, my hands coming up on top of his own to encourage him to squeeze and rub my breasts more.

In case I'm unclear, my ears and neck are incredibly sensitive erogenous zones for me. When he finally broke off his assault so I could breathe I laughed and told him he'd "found my spot."

"I did wonder when the clit moved up into the neck" he teased back.

He urged me back on to the bed and removed his pants, following me quickly. He sat down and I had a long moment to gaze lustfully at his cock.

Jared does not have the biggest cock in the world. What he does have, though, is one that is sufficiently over-sized as to be somewhat concerning to someone who had not had much sex lately. I was pretty sure I'd be able to take him, but I wasn't completely convinced when I first saw it.

I leaned down to spend a few moments worshiping the perfection that was the shape of his cock. And to familiarize myself with my new, hard friend who promised so much pleasure.  I had the velvety hot shaft of his cock in my mouth in seconds, sucking him as deeply as I comfortably could.

There's something about a hard man. I hold his cock between my lips and taste his sweet pre-cum leaking against my tongue. His breath catching in his throat with a moan. His pleasure belongs to me. I own it.

The really nice boys, like Jared, will let his gentle hands caress my skin as he moves my hair out of his view so he can watch his cock disappear between my lips. His touch caring and sensual and appreciative.  The act of sucking his cock became a private show, just for him.

"If you keep that up, I'm going to come," he warned. I paused to consider my options, realizing I'd probably already taken him too far to make having him inside me for more than a few seconds. A minute maybe.

And so I sucked his cock until I felt it swell that last little bit and then pulse with orgasm as his come filled my mouth.

I've been too busy to write!

On the positive side: I've been getting thoroughly fucked. On the negative side I haven't had a lot of time to chronical it. But I need to. Because I need to relive those great moments again and again....

Second visit with Greg

I scheduled Greg to come by on Wednesday.  He didn't confirm that morning.  And then about a half hour after the agreed upon visit time he texted me to say he wasn't able to make it due to an unexpected work meeting.  I was kind of pissed but gave him the benefit of the doubt.  Still I did, later, tell him how unacceptable it was for him to wait so long to let me know he wouldn't be coming by.

We rescheduled for Thursday at 10.  It was after 9 and he clearly hadn't left his home yet.  As it hit 10:30 he assured me he was on the road.  At 11:30 he told me he was almost at my house.  I'm not stupid.  I had already checked to see what the commute time between his city and mine was.  Something like 40 minutes at that time.  A long time, but not two and a half hours.  Even in bad traffic... which there wasn't.

I considered telling him to turn around closer to 11 but couldn't quite bring myself to tell him no when he was on his way, even though I was irritated.  I went back to bed, leaving the door unlocked.  Naked and in bed with my dogs I waited.  And decided to let myself fall asleep.  Which I did.  When he texted me to say he was almost there I told him to come in.  He came into the bedroom and I got up long enough to get rid of the dogs and then crawl back into bed.

Like a clever boy, he immediately stripped down and crawled into bed next to me, his cock pressing delightfully against my ass.  I turned over and he snuggled his hips between my legs and began to feast on my nipples.  I still don't know exactly what he was doing, but it felt vaguely like getting my nipples pierced again.  It hurt.  It felt intense.  It was amazing.  He watched me.  I loved seeing his eyes looking at me,

He moved down between my legs and played with my pussy a bit.  "Harder' I asked, and he did.  And it felt amazing.  His mouth quickly found my clit and he began to tongue and then suck it.  Hard.  It hurt.  A lot.  I expected him to stop but he did not.  I had asked him to watch a particular video.  I did not expect him to get that out of it.I finally asked him to stop and told him it hurt.  "What are you doing?"  "Sucking it like my life depends on it." he said.  I don't know how he got the idea that was the way to go.  Maybe that's what he wants me to do to his cock?

He fingered me and it felt AMAZING.  Intense.  Perfection.  I should have told him to never stop.  I would have come that way.  But for some reason he stopped.  Got bored.  Something. I should have told him to keep going.  He replaced his fingers with his cock and... well... he must have been doing a good job fingering me because his cock felt far less amazing. Still nice.

He kissed me and I could taste the faint flavor of his cigarettes.  Not nearly as intense as last time.  But still obvious.  Damn.

He slid out of me to adjust position and when I reached down to finger my clit he shoved my hand away, sliding back inside me. At some point he folded my legs up between us, his cock head hitting my gspot over and over.  "Did you come?" he asked pausing briefly.  I shook my head no.  "You just got really, really wet." he said.  He went back to fucking me in the same position. A minute later I felt myself pee just a bit.

My entire person froze for a second, briefly confused.  I hadn't come.  It hadn't felt particularly great, either.  Just... like I'd suddenly peed just a bit.  But then I think we all know that's now what happened at all, right? He didn't say anything and I couldn't bring myself to mention it for fear I had just peed.  And then I quickly forgot about it in the pleasure of his cock.

Once again, I managed not to come, much to my painful disappointment.  I asked him to let me touch myself, to put his fingers inside me.  He pushed his cock back inside me and I told him I couldn't reach my clit very well.  "Deal," he said, pointedly.  I rather liked the way he said it.  But I still couldn't come.

Finally he said "I'm going to cum inside you."  "Yes, please" I asked.  He came inside me shortly after.  A minute later we went to take a shower.  We talked a little.  And he left asking if we would see each other next week.  "I don't know my schedule" I said truthfully.  Turns out my schedule next week is a mess.  I did text him my schedule.  But I'll find an excuse to beg off and then we won't see each other again.

Disappointing as hell.

Painful

I went and saw "Logan" today. Really entertaining. However, I spent much of the movie wondering if Dan was there. Envisioning him walking up to me, touching me. Fuck, I miss him.  It's not that he was an amazing lover. I had sex with him several times and never got anywhere near coming. But kissing him, touching him. I loved that.

Greg, on the other hand, left me somewhat chafed with a few sore muscles to boot. The man can fuck, and I can't deny I liked it.

We chatted online a bit today. He wanted to come over again but I had to decline. No privacy today, unfortunately. A painful thing to do, to say no to something I'm still hungry for. A little extra lube would take care of the chafing and I'd be ready in no time.

Greg is interested in being a regular feature in my life. I had to ask him about the smoking. "I do it when I'm nervous" he admitted. A terrible habit but I took some extra pride in the fact that he was nervous to meet me. Still, I told him I could taste it on him and wasn't a fan.  We'll see. I think some people forget that the smell and taste of cigarettes don't just dissipate because they haven't smoked in a few hours.  If he's lying, it will be over. You know, after we have sex again.

I did mention we had a few things to work on. Admitted I'm terribly addicted to porn and find it difficult to come without it. And that I loved the feel of his fingers inside me. I couldn't quite bring myself to tell him he's not as great at oral sex as I'd hoped and stopped doing the things I liked way too soon.  I was pretty sure I need to ease into the pride wounding.

I have a book I bought years ago called "how to talk to a naked man." I don't remember anything in it, but maybe I need to give it another quick read. Maybe it holds the secret how to ask for what I need without sounding disappointed.

I will say, though, that between my recent lovers I've pretty much gotten to the point where I'm no longer one of those girls who don't care much for oral. Even a bad tonguing is turning out to be pretty good.

The, as of yet, unnamed character in my story is conspicuously absent. I'm not sure why. But his entertaining part of my life is sorely missed, too.

I haven't come up with a good name for him yet, and since we've not yet met I'm still not sure what his part will be in the story.  Until I figure out a name for him and have a decent introduction story for him, he's my precious secret.

Sex with Greg

I met Greg via a popular dating website. Lots of people there are looking for long term relationships, but most of them are looking for something far more casual.  I fall somewhere in between, being married as long as I have been I'm not looking for a new husband but a nice boyfriend or two are welcome.

We chatted online a bit. Another character I've yet to introduce in this blog encouraged me to meet up with Greg. More than once, in fact.  Greg was nice enough and appeared to be delightfully handsome so I committed.

We made a plan a couple of days in advance for a meet up. I decided I would indeed host, against my better judgment. I gave him my address and made sure I knew where the knives were.

In the morning, I woke up extra early and began to make sure the house was in decent enough shape that I won't be mortified to have him here. I also made a plan for the changing of the sheets so Husband and I would not be sleeping on the sex sheets from my tryst.

As we got closer to Greg's planned arrival time it became clear he was still at home. He let me know he would be late. He ended up being very, very late. Over an hour, in fact. Somehow this made my normal nervousness drop to near zero.

I was vaguely irritated at his lack of punctually but it was tempered by the fact that he kept me up to date on his progress.  I mentioned his lateness and how long it was taking him to reach me (over an hour) and the other character I've yet to introduce pointed out "that is a guy who really wants to get his hands on you." Suddenly my irritation was gone.  Maybe that was true.

Greg texted me once he arrived and I went outside to meet him. His car was an older model, damaged from some minor accident that left the car cosmetically questionable but still mobile. Fortunately for him, his car did not represent his own state.

It turns out, Greg really is a handsome guy. Pretty eyes, a quick smile. I was somewhat amazed that he had arrived, we'd seen each other, and he was apparently still interested.

I invited him into the house and he was greeted by the cacophony of all of my animals upset and confused by the stranger in our home. I gave him a quick introduction and then led him directly toward the bedroom, not bothering with most of the normal awkward conversation.

He followed me and just before we entered the doorway to the bedroom he paused grabbing me gently by the shoulder, making me stop. Before I could turn around he he had stepped toward me, pulling my body tight against his own. With a gentle movement he pulled my hair away from one side of my neck and replaced it with his mouth.  I melted.

His lips and tongue made a delightful trail of pleasure climbed up the nape if my neck toward my ear making me shiver, and moan. "You find my spot" I gasped. His hands were on my stomach resting a little too politely below my breasts. I put my hands over his and pulled them to onto my chest granting him free access and myself the extra simulation.

After a few moments he drew back and I moved toward the bedroom again. It was a small circus, removing the dogs from the room, but once alone, he pulled me into his arms and gave me a slow, sweet kiss. I could taste the cigarettes on his lips.  I remember thing "he said he was a non-smoker didn't he...?".

Still the kiss was sensual and delightful. I couldn't bring myself to break it over something vaguely distasteful. Certainly, I've had other lovers over the years with the same addiction.

He went to move me toward the bed and I sat down. He came down half on me, half off, kissing me more. I moved so his thigh was between my legs so I could press against something, both relieving and intensifying the ache he was creating.

He pulled me up and took off my shirt and maybe took a moment to appreciate my bra before unhooking that, too. I teased him about not being able to do it one handed (a sure sign of a man-slut, I think).

He moved down my body to lick, suckle, and bite nipples. Too​ often when a man plays with my breasts I find it boring. Not with him. He was tougher on them, than kind. I looked down at him, surprised by the sensations he was creating. He was looking back at me, gauging my reactions and responding to them.

I finally reached down and felt his waist band. "A puzzle" I muttered, tugging ineffectually at his belt. He laughed, maybe, standing up to take off his pants and underwear "it's faster this way" he said, settling back between my legs but giving me nothing to feel pressed against my pussy, yet, his lips on mine again.

At some point he moved down my body, spreading my pussy lips open.  He touched his tongue over my clit, like nicely wet finger. Like porn. It was pleasant but not great. Maybe a minute later give or take, he was done.

I'm a little muddled here. But I remember he was on his back and I straddled his hips, our mouths fused as I rocked my hips, trying to catch his cock just right so it wold slide inside me. I failed. He knew what I was doing and grabbed his cock near the head, guiding it against my pussy. I continued to move my hips hoping he would soon be inside. "I'm teasing you" he said with a smile. "Fuck, I know," I whined, putting more pressure downward trying to force his cock inside.

He finally relented, letting me slide down on his cock. "Slow down'" told me as I tried worked to get his entire length inside me, "we have plenty of time." I moved more slowly, finally taking his whole length inside and pausing to savor the feel of his cock filling me completely.

I remember being on top for a while, him telling me to sit up, partially so he could see me, I think.  Finally, he took over, rolling on top of me where he stayed for much of the next 45 minutes.

He finally pulled out of me, much to my dismay and began fucking me with his fingers, the wet sounds a testament to how good he was.  I think I could have come from the way his fingers felt inside me, his other hand finding my clit and working it over.

He gave up on that rather quickly and slid back inside me. I could feel the heat building up in my face and neck, that wonderful sex flush that is a sure sign of arousal and impending orgasm. But something changed in his pace and motion. And it was gone, ephemeral as smoke.

I never came. He did. We spent some time touching a little and talking afterward. We showered together.

We finally parted, leaving the house together to go our separate ways.

He told me I kiss like a nymphomaniac on parole. He's about right there. I love kissing. I love all sorts of touch, but the feel of another's lips on my own is irreplaceable.

The Ex really taught me the wonders of kissing. That man knew his way around lips. It was one of those things I couldn't get enough of with him. As soon as his mouth was on mine I was at and ready for him. It was never a question: if our lips met it wouldn't be long before I was welcoming his hard cock inside me.

Dan kisses me very similarly. He seems to like it, too. He told me her hadn't made out with someone as much as he had been with me since he was a teenager. I'm pretty sure I haven't made out with anyone at much as I have with him since The Ex.

Disappointingly, Husband had never figured out how to kiss. Too​ much tongue. Sometimes I find he's engulfed my entire mouth with his own, as he looks for depth in kissing I just don't crave.

Unfortunately for Dan and I, he got sick and now I am. I actually had to go to the doctor to get medication for a head cold that had taken over my entire brain. Kissing has been off the table which has been a form of torture for me.

I'm so impatient to taste his mouth again.

Maybe I need too much.

No, I know I need too much. That's not even really in doubt. I'm 38 years old, have a career I'm happy with, a marriage that is okay, a house, a family of sorts. And I still want a boyfriend.

And not just someone I fuck occasionally. I want someone whose company I enjoy and can seek out for even nonsexual things.

What I'm not looking for is a new husband. I don't want to move in. I don't want him to move in with me. I don't want to share bills or cars.

A true friend with benefits. And maybe the problem is that I look at the benefits first and then hope for a friend. I'm not so good the other way around.

I've met with Dan a few more times since our initial meeting at the library. Always in his bed. He kisses me against the wall in the hallway. Then we go into his bedroom where I waste no time getting naked.

The first time I warned him if I had my way he would be inside me within two minutes of my arrival, if I just knew where the bed was. He told me via text, so there was no question he agreed with my plan. I think it took a little longer than that, but not much.

That first day we alternated between fucking and snuggling and chatting. He thought it was fun to ask me a question with a long answer and then slide his cock inside me. Then he'd remind me to answer.  I mostly couldn't.

I think he's the first man I've known who can fuck a while and then take a break, letting his cock go soft and touching me sweetly before getting hard again and fucking me some more. Over and over.  I'm not sure how he doesn't get painful.

He holds me and kisses me and compliments me. The first day when he fucked me he told me to look at him. I resisted a little. Keith is the only man I've ever had sex with who I naturally just really wanted to look at. I loved to see his eyes and the expression on his face.

Still, I'm a people pleaser so I did my best to meet Dan's eyes. It's easier now. He has shaped what could be nothing more than a booty call into something much more intimate.  I like to look at him and I love the way he looks at me. The last time we were together he looked at me with this glowing softness about him. He was looking at me like he loves me.

"Stop it," I told him. "Stop what?" He asked with a knowing smirk. "Stop looking at me like that." "Like what?" He asked. "You know,"  I said. "Say it," he demanded.  But I refused. I don't want to acknowledge that there is anything more than as fabulous crush and some delightful sex.

Still, he's a very sexy, passionate, and incredibly romantic guy who really enjoys the sensuality and intimacy that can be part of a fulfilling sexual relationship. It's hard to resist falling into that trap. I know I look at him much the same way he looks at me.

I hunger for his kisses and the way he touches, talks, and interacts with me. I need that kind of sweetness, the gentleness that he brings into the bedroom while still fucking me hard and talking dirty to me.

I don't mind so much not having anyone read this. What I find is, looking back, the urging I like is actually being able to look back. I can review parts of my life I would have forgotten otherwise. Details lost to the fallibility of memory.

The draw  back: my use of nicknames, I can't always match my use of a name to a face. Real names are forgotten and now some faces, too.

Would it have made a difference years ago if I'd used real names? Probably not. Should I change that now? Probably not.

I met a new man yesterday. His name was Rick. Rick has a big dick. One of the biggest I've had the pleasure of seeing on a real man although I haven't seen in real life. Yet.

Yesterday we just introduced ourselves it was a quick meeting because I had to go back to work. Although he's only got a few years on me he looks a little older than that. He has a nice smile and kind eyes.

At the end of our meeting I shook his hand. We were in front of my work where anyone could see. I had a brief moment where I almost kissed him it just seemed so natural. But I recalled myself and let him walk away.

I've let him watch me shower on cam twice now. He likes to watch me soap up my breasts. And I like to watch him watching. Last night he was at work watching. It was a game to see if I could make him hard and for him to see if he can maintain control.

I guess he won.

He said he would text me today to see if he could get away to meet again. I haven't heard from him. I wasn't sure what the point was anyway. I don't have anywhere private to go and neither does he.

Disappointment

We agreed to get together a few days later.  Early in the day where we could spend several hours doing whatever sounded sexy and fun.  But I had plans. So we agreed I would text him and let him know when my plans were done and then I'd go to his house.  That morning my planned meeting went fairly quickly so I texted him as much.  He didn't respond.

I went home and got some breakfast, went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and waited.  But nothing came.  I text him again and used another method of contact.  Nothing. I started chatting with another possible conquest and told him a tiny bit about the guy I was planning to meet and my frustration with his lack of text.  I gave him until 11 to respond.  11 Came and went.  The guy I was talking to pointed it out.  And I got upset.

I cried.  I cried because here I had finally met someone again, after ten years, and he'd let me down.  I'd let him inside me and gave him a modicum of trust and he'd thrown it in my face.  I couldn't make it make sense.  This went against everything I knew about this guy.  He was supposed to be communicative and thoughtful.  The kind of guy who wouldn't leave a person hanging without telling them "thanks but no thanks."  He'd written about it.  And here I was, worth less to him than even a quick comment.  Maybe he was dead. I didn't know.  I just knew I had been looking forward to this tryst and just got fucked, but not in the way I wanted.

The guy I was chatting with asked if he masturbated for me if it would help.  I tearily declined.  To be fair, I'd watched him before and was pretty fascinated, but I didn't want to share my teary face with him.

A little later I got a dozen texts from the one I was supposed to meet. All of them came in a second or two, all at once.  Lots of "where are you?  Hello? Must have been a bad first meeting..." among other things.  Fuck me.  I was crying over nothing.  But it still hurt.  I texted him back.  I could tell he got that one.  But I'd written to him using another method of contact, pre-agreed upon and he hadn't responded to that either.  And then the texts broke again.

We finally got a third program and were able to talk.  By then it was too late to see him.  And I looked like I'd been crying.  Because I had been.  Even then, my heart so broken not just from the disappointment but from the fact that I was so easily heartbroken over something like this.

We scheduled another date for the next day.  I made him give me his address and a time.

That night I got drunk.  It was nice.

At the Library

He warned me that he would be dressed very casually and unshaved. Seeing as it was two AM, I didn't much care. I just knew the ache between my legs was still unsatisfied and he might be able to help.

I paced outside the closed library for a while after I got there, waiting.  He pulled his car into the lot a few minutes after our agreed meeting time and I waited for him to get out.

My heart started to pound as anxiety took over. "Are you my Uber?" I joked nervously. "What?" he asked. Yeah.

Much of the rest of the few minutes are a blur of me being incredibly nervous. All my excitement was fine, replaced almost completely by cold fear. Not that I thought he was going to hurt me. I was just nervous in a way I haven't been in a very, very long time.  He could tell.

It was cold outside.  I stood in the parking lot with him for a minute and then told him we should get into the car.  He invited me into the back seat and I joined him, awkwardly.  I put my cold hand in his and pointed out how very cold it was.  He tried to warm it, but there was no hope.  Too many nerves.

I sat across from him, asking him questions.  I finally joked that I was interviewing him.  Then I realized I really was interviewing him. I liked his voice.  I don't remember most of what he said, though he ran down his professional life and some of his experiences with online hookups.  He's a good storyteller.

At some point he put my leg up across his leg.  I could feel the warmth of his skin.  He caressed my leg.  He complimented me.  I laughed at his compliment and told him to stop. His instantaneous response to stop touching me was unexpected, "stop what?  touching you?" he said, or something like it.  I don't remember what I said.  But he stopped.  I was confused, somewhat embarrassed and trying to parse what exactly had happened.

We kept talking.  A while later he readjusted both of us so his arm was around me, I was leaning on him and he rubbed my arm.  Another compliment.  More embarrassment on my part. And then he asked me some question.  I remember telling him I liked his touch.  That must have been the "yes" he was looking for because that's when he was done waiting. With a deliberate movement his mouth found mine.

He's a good kisser.  Not like the Ex with his deft ability to take me from 0 to completely wet in a few seconds, but not far behind.  Of course, by then I was already wet, so it didn't much matter anyway.  His lips were soft, his tongue warm, and busy.

Much of the rest of the time we were together is a blur.  I was tired, but excited.  His fingers were inside me fairly quickly and it felt amazing.  He continued to kiss me and I ran my hands over his body, feeling his hair, the heat coming off his skin. Eventually he asked me to touch his cock. I don't remember the words.  I just know I was lost in the feel of his mouth and his fingers and it took me a moment.  His pants had some kind of tie.  I couldn't figure it out.  He finally undid it for me, pulling his waistband down far enough to expose his cock.

I remember taking it in my mouth, it fit so nicely, soft, hot, smooth.  Amazing. He continued to finger me while he could, asked me a few questions. Questions that broke me out of my passionate, sleepy stupor and confused me. Then finally asked me something like "how long are you going to do that?" at least, that's what I heard.  I smiled against his cock "all night."  He may have laughed, "I'm okay with that."  I finally thought about what he'd said.  I sat up and asked him about a condom, which he quickly produced and put on in a practiced motion.

Somewhere in there I attempted to find a way to get his front seats to lay down into more of a bed-like formation but couldn't figure it out.

I ended up sitting back, practically on his lap and then kind of shrugged. With his help I ended up sliding his cock into me in that position.  As I sat holding on to the front seat, bounced on his cock for a minute or so "I've never done it this way" I commented.  At some point he told me we should go outside so he could fuck me.

We walked over behind the library.  It was very close to the back of a house.  He pushed me forward, bending me at the waist so I pulled up my long coat and pulled down my pants, baring my ass to him and the night.  Moments later he was inside me.  "You have to be quiet" he said, firmly before he began to move.

Well. I tried to be quiet.  But I'm not sure I managed it.  I hadn't had a cock in me in almost two years and nothing feels better to me than doggy style.  I love the way his cock head hit my gspot with each thrust.  It was amazing.  And I had to be quiet.  I tried.  I swear I did.  But he came after a few more strokes.  I think he decided it was either he finish or someone would find us.

We walked back to the car and I realized my hands were covered in sap.  Not sexy.  He dropped me at my house, kissing me a delicious goodbye and I went inside to deal with the sap situation.  Once that was done I crawled into bed and began looking for porn.  I still hadn't come, much to my disappointment.  He'd tried.  He'd even offered to eat my pussy but I declined at that point.

An hour or so later he came back online and we chatted for a few minutes.  He asked if I came.  I told him I hadn't and he was disappointed.  "I would have done more if I'd realized.  I also thought you were going right to bed or I'd have taken you back to my house."  We made a tentative date for a few days later.

I didn't get to come.  I just couldn't make it happen for some reason that night.  But I was left with some delicious memories, anyway.

Welcome back!

I. Have. Finally. Broken. The. Streak.

Fuck yes!

I haven't seen my delicious salesman in about a month. We email business things but it is all so formal. Exactly what I don't want to be with him.

I digress.

So after being off birth control for several months my libido suddenly decided it was done being dormant.

I was pet sitting. Alone in a big house. At some point I became ravenous for sex. I finally, against my better judgement, opened a new personals account.  Because I need sex pretty much immediately. Like, let me go stand on street corner or start knocking on doors.

Needless to say when I finally started getting some responses it was late. Plus I remembered that I have standards. There was maybe one guy I thought I'd fuck. But for some reason it couldn't work out. A wife, perhaps?  I forget.

I ended up masturbating to a pretty spectacular orgasm and fell asleep in the wee hours. When I woke up hours later, I realized what was happening. My period. Still horny, but that was quickly quashed by miserable pain.  It was sort of like my uterus was punishing me for not giving it what it wanted ( which in reality is probably a baby but in my mind is just dick).

Once I recovered from a terrible, painful day I was still miserably horny.  Oh, and did I forget to mention I had a cold?  I wanted to fuck, but couldn't stop coughing and blowing my nose. Hot, right?

And now I also had blood to worry about. Not normally something I normally find problematic, but this wasn't my bed or my pristine white sheets that undoubtedly cost more than they were paying me to sleep in them.

I spent the week masturbating with just about every sex toy I own. Masturbating, watching porn, and Chatting up guys I couldn't actually fuck.

When I finally got home, I told Husband I was looking for a man with which to entertain myself. I worried a lot that he would be upset. He didn't say anything about it, really. Hurray!

And so I kept looking. For some reason, and I don't know what, men sending me dick pics suddenly didn't bother me. "Send them, so I might come" I thought.

Really, though. I was shopping. And fuck it, if I'm looking for a man to use I might we'll make sure I'm as happy with the package as with the packaging.

One guy thoroughly impressed me with a big thick cock I almost didn't believe. It wasn't the first picture he sent, but close enough. Decent looking and something abnormally large but not silly?  Yes, please.

He let me watch him masturbate so I let him watch me shower. I could hear him moan as I washed my breasts slowly, mesmerized by the way he tucked his cock partway between his thighs while still rubbing it until he came. Oh to have been there.

He was more handsome than I'd realized, his photos not doing him justice. And watching him masturbate to me? Yesss. I needed him nright the fuck now.

Then he disappeared on some kind of planned trip. And I could still feel the hot ache between my legs moaningly empty.

So I kept looking. And last night there was this guy. He was one of those types that writes in full sentences. Uses words I used to look up in the dictionary. And swears he's going to fuck me into another realm. Or something like that.

He was mentally quick and wrote at a pace and with a certain turn of phrase that had me very quickly hooked. I kept thinking of his fingers must have been flying across the keyboard and what that speed and attention to detail would mean to me. Whatever he was offering, I was ready to accept. I finally had to ask for his cock pic, just to make sure the attraction would last through his pants coming off.

It was at least acceptable. And so, after much hemming and hawing and lack of sleep I finally agreed to meet him outside the library at two AM.