Heat

This close stifling heat makes me feel randy. It’s worse because I’ve been away for a while, and the close proximity to my wife, so any personal handiwork has been off the cards – so I’ve got 10 days’ of semen just waiting to be set free. I’m sure I’ll more than make up for it when I’m in NYC (even though it looks likely I’ll only be pleasuring myself), but the frustration is palpable. A girl just walked past me in a bikini top and shorts, and I nearly tripped over in the street.

In other news, the 21-year-old turned up a couple of weeks ago. She texted me “what would you do if I told you I was outside the office right now?”. My answer, unfotunately, was “nothing”, as I was in an all-day meeting. She should start work nearby soon, so with luck the next time she asks I’ll be able to reply “drag you into the washroom of the local Starbucks, push you to your knees, and slip my cock between those pretty lips of yours”.

I seem be dreaming and thinking about her a lot recently, but that may be a function of my frusation levels…

HNT #27: Interviews

I am now taking applications for a liaison in the Big Apple.

The successful applicant will need to be available for slow stripping, deep full-mouth kissing and nibbling of various protrusions. She should be able to endure several hours of wandering fingers, firm palms and general soft touch, occasionally punctuated by harsh contact. The ability to endure extended periods of cunnilingus and general tongue work around her most intimate areas would be considered a bonus.

You will be working within an enthusiastic partnership, where activities will be varied and sometimes unusual. The work will be long, gruelling and physically demanding, but at the same time invigorating and satisfying. The intimate environment will be relaxed and casual; the dress code is ‘minimal’, although clothing should be aesthetically pleasing, non-functional and ideally sheer where possible.

Candidates will be expected to show flexibility, as they will be considered for a number of positions, including (but not limited to) standing, sitting, kneeling, and bent forward over various items of furniture. Those with particularly impressive CV may be presented to a full-length mirror whilst sitting astride the interviewer’s lap. They should also demonstrate a flair for verbal communication, as well as a taste for the male anatomy and a keen knowledge of deep throat and gagging techniques.

If you are interested in applying to join this dynamic, energetic and slightly sticky environment, you should present your résumé to the email address on the right, and should include details of previous experience, listing skills – and lingerie – that you can contribute to the organisation. Applicants should include a recent photograph, as well as a brief description of actions which they intend to carry out on their first interactions with the firm flesh.

The closing date for applications is, quite appropriately, Independence Day, with a starting date soon afterwards.

Grasping the Nettle

Opportunities have never been particularly forthcoming for me – in terms of my situation here, at least. Finding time when I can come up with a plausible alibi, both personally and professionally, is always tricky. Finding a time when they coincide is almost impossible. Add another person into the mix and the already long odds begin to look like America’s national debt.

So it’s particularly ironic that I will shortly find myself in that indebted country, looking out over the Statue of Liberty, and musing on the fact that despite having more freedom than I’ve had for a very long time, it looks very much like I’ll be kicking my heels in a hotel room, staring at the view and wondering what to do with myself. There’s only so much drumming I can do before my fingers seek other activities to occupy them.

So, the question is, should I try Craigslist? Or AM? Or something else? What’s likely to have the best success rate with the least bullshit? What sites actually hold any hope of a guy actually getting anything other than Spam or fake replies?

Come on ladies – and gents – I need your help.

Start The Day (him)

Inspired by my HNT #25, this was written by an extremely sexy reader of mine, blue_eyed_gypsy.

The view from the glassless window is spectacular, like a Hokusai print: rugged mountains, rural village, empty and quiet under a blanket of late spring snow. The light is pale and grey, throwing the whole scene into monochrome, washing through the still partially closed rice paper shutters, around me, into the room behind me. Without turning, I know it is illuminating the details of the woman lying on the futon at my feet.

I feel her hand at the base of my calf. It’s warm against my cooling skin; the temperatures are still low enough that my nipples have puckered and my cock has shrunk as far as it can to preserve heat. The hand traces its way up my slightly spread legs until she reaches the crease where my ass meets the backs of my thighs. Already, my cock is responding, both to the touch and to the thoughts released by it. Her fingers linger at the bottom of the cleft, then drift slowly and agonizingly lightly along the perineum. Her arms are not long enough to go any further from her prone position, and I wonder what she will do next. She has enough height to wrap the tips of her fingers around my sac, and she plays with it, palpating it, stroking it, one finger still rubbing along the taint.

I turn my head finally, my thoughts wholly wrested from rural Japan, and look down at her over my shoulder. My cock is already more than half hard, and I start to stroke it while I watch her. Her eyes are sleep-heavy, looking up the length of my body through half closed lids. They’re opened sufficiently, though, that I can see incipient desire. She looks up into my eyes. It’s enough.

I bring my body fully around, without letting my gaze leave hers. The down kakebuton that has helped keep us warm has slipped down off her shoulders to her breasts, its progress stopped by her stiffened nipples. Her nipples are long and perfect, inviting play and torture alike. Suddenly, I want to see them, erect and aching for my touch, and I drag the comforter down her body with my foot, letting it go when it has reached the top of her thighs, far enough down to expose an inch or two of her trimmed pussy.

She makes a small sound of disapproval at the sudden invasion of cold air. Her nipples are indeed erect, standing stiffly out from the soft, flattened mounds of her breasts. I can see the flesh of her tits contract in the chill, the skin covered in the tiny, fading bruises that are the legacy of passion-induced bites a few nights ago.

Evidently deciding that there will be no more sleep this morning, she raises and locks her arms above her head, and stretches: her eyes scrunch closed, her back arches slightly, throwing her ribcage into relief, her breasts up and her pelvis down; her legs part and extend as far as she can push them, trying to force the sleepiness from her body. This pulls the comforter down further, and her legs flail a little and rid her body of it completely. When she is done, one leg is drawn up and canted slightly outward, and her arms remain raised above her head. She smiles at me, sleep still lingering in her eyes and on her lips. I watch her throughout this short litany, transfixed, and by the time she smiles up at me – no more than thirty seconds – my cock is rigid, pulsing and already seeping, and I can feel the heat coursing in waves through my body.

My gaze sweeps over her, again, as it has countless times in the last several days, and I am still equally confounded and aroused. She is liquid sex, walking sex, dreaming sex, sex personified, sex incarnate. Lying there as she is, physically and mentally primed to respond to whatever I am ready to do to her, I can only think of her as a woman made to be fucked, and fucked well, again and again.

I know her well enough now to know that this is not deliberate, not an effort to seduce and control. She is unaware of just how powerful, how visceral her effect is on me; it is a part of her. Her need to fuck – or fuck me, anyway – is as natural as her need to breathe.

Our Japanese hosts think we are crazy to spend as much time as we do in our room, fucking, when there is all this beauty around us to appreciate. But I have no desire to waste a single minute of our stolen time together, and neither does she, so we spend our time learning each other in mutual pleasure. I move to stand between her slightly parted legs, kicking them further apart, until she lies with legs splayed, the lips of her pussy spread, beckoning. I stoop and pull her leg up so that both knees are now bent, then drop to my knees between her open thighs. When I push her knees even further apart, the deep rose of her cunt is exposed, and I catch the scent of her arousal. “Hot, throbbing cock” is a cliche, but that’s what I am now, all I am now, just from looking at her and from the anticipation of fucking her, hard and long, until she cries in surrender.

My hand finds her cunt, first one, then two and three fingers rooting deep into her, my thumb seeking and finding her clit. It is hard to believe, but she is wet already, slick enough that my fingers can force their way past her tightness without much trouble. She is breathing more rapidly, and her eyes are closed with pleasure. I pause in my finger fucking to watch her. Her hips are flexing, trying to draw my hand deeper, to tempt it to thrust harder and more quickly. Her eyes open and I see that they are almost black, the pupils dilated with arousal and need – mine must appear so to her as well.

I resume my actions, my fingers plunging deep, exploring her. Her little clit is engorged and her cunt is swollen, ready. I can feel her tightening around my hand, her pelvis moving in quick jerks. Her eyes struggle open again. “Oh, God, baby. Fuck me. Please. Please, baby, I want you in me so badly.” The plea comes on a breath, a small gasp. Suddenly, inexorably, I need to fuck her as badly as she needs to be fucked. I need the feel of her skin against mine, of her body moving under me; I need to feel her struggle and acquiesce, I need to feel her submit.

I move up to lie over her, my hands trapping hers over her head. The weight of my lower body pins her in place, and I thrust into her, with no preamble, hard, seating my cock in her fully on that single thrust.

Her cunt closes around me, gloriously hot and slick. No time for a gentle, teasing build up this time: I’m pounding her, plowing that beautiful, needy cunt so hard that our bones contact and my balls are slapping against her rhythmically. She is struggling like a trapped animal between my arms; I can feel her nipples scraping against my chest as she arches and slides. Her hips rise and fall, meeting my thrusts, forcing my cock even deeper.

Suddenly her body stills, and I know she is about to come, so I pump even faster, my own climax imminent as well. When the orgasm overtakes her, her body arches up off the futon, muscles rigid, for long seconds before she starts to buck, But the tight muscles of her cunt have thrown me over the edge, and I explode in her with a grunt, my semen erupting in hot spurts. The dizzying pleasure, the hot satisfaction of taking her, seems endless, my seed pouring into her, filling her and spilling out again to coat her thighs.

As my cock finally begins to soften, I try to withdraw but she tightens her cunt to hold me. She wraps her legs around mine, so that we are entwined from mid-thigh to ankle. She wriggles, and wraps her freed arms around me, hugging me tightly to her. In response, I draw my elbows in, my forearms pressing her ribcage, and I burrow my groin into the softness of her belly. Both of us are breathing as though we had just run miles, and I drop my head next to hers. The skin of her cheek is smooth against mine, and her hair sweet smelling where I am nuzzling against her, perfectly sated.

A good way to start the day.

The Lesson

Inspired by my HNT #12, this was written by an extremely sexy reader of mine, blue_eyed_gypsy.

I don’t like being in a pissy mood, and I don’t like taking it out on you. Guess what? You don’t like it either.

My first snapped answer goes by without retribution, but the second provokes a response. Your hand clamps firmly on the nape of my neck.

“I think we need to get you in a better frame of mind,” you growl in my ear, and propel me towards the bedroom. I wiggle and resist, but you are inexorable, and soon, my knees are against the bed.

I try to escape when you let go of my neck, but before I can really move, your hands are on my shoulders, turning me around to face you. Perfectly amiable but perfectly irresistible, you compel me to a sitting position, your legs trapping mine between them.

Whatever irritations have accumulated over the course of my day are vanishing rapidly. You in a tight white t-shirt and snug blue jeans, solidly sexy; being put in my place, with the prospect of being disciplined but still taken care of…. arousal is dispelling my crotchets, and the stern warmth of the attention, my contentiousness.

Your hands cup my face, fingers threaded through my hair, thumbs tracing my eyebrows, my cheeks my lips. I run my hands up the outsides of your thighs, and slip my fingers into the waistband of your jeans. Your skin feels hot through the thin cotton of the shirt, and my hands find their way to the button. I’m concentrating on unbuckling the belt, then undoing the button and pulling down the zipper; you’re watching me, still stroking my face.

Before I can free your cock, your hands move purposefully down, over my shoulders, down my arms to grip my wrists. You transfer them both to one hand. Though your grasp encircles them easily, I could probably wrest them away if I put my mind to it. My mind, however, is not being put to it; it’s quite overwhelmed with rising arousal and anticipation.

With your free hand,you pull the belt out of the loops, and let it dangle momentarily. I can’t take my gaze off it – the possibilities in that long hanging strip of leather have me riveted. When, finally, I lift my eyes to yours, you smile knowingly.

“Nasty little girl.”

Quite deftly, you wrap the belt around my crossed wrists, securing them snugly. That accomplished, you press me back and down on the bed.

“Put your arms up, above your head.”

I obey, and then stretch a little, trying to relax, still watching you. I can see the change in your expression as my shirt rides up, pulling out of my skirt, and the skirt itself is hiked up further on my legs.

You catch me looking at you.

“Witch,” you say, with amusement. Without loosening your grip on my legs, you drag your shirt off and toss it on the floor. Before I can do more than groan in appreciation, you lean over me, hands on either side of my head, staring down.

From my supine position, you appear predatory and overwhelmingly male: the muscles in your arms and torso bunched, knees bent, jeans gaping open, cock half-hard and swelling as I watch.

You rest your weight on one hand, and with the other, you ruck my skirt up to my belly. Taking hold of my panties, you drag them down my legs to my knees. Stepping back slightly, you allow me to kick them off, then you nudge my legs apart with your knee. As you move between them, they are opened even wider. Still watching me, you cup my exposed pussy.

The sound I make is half groan, half gasp. My eyes close in anticipation and pure pleasure and I stretch again in attempt to burrow more deeply into your cradling hand. In response, you part my labia and your fingers start stroking me.

“In a better mood now?”

Rapid, shallow breaths and flexing hips are a better answer to this question than any words.

I hear your small snort of amusement. Fingers probe my cunt, delving deeply then withdrawing, slick with my wetness.

“Oh, yes, in a much better mood. Shall I stop?”

Surely you wouldn’t? My negative shake of the head is as vigorous as I can make it.

You stand, moving briefly away from me, and shuck off your jeans. Through my half-closed eyes, I take in the beauty of your completely nude and now fully aroused body.

Coming up close again, you roll me over on to my belly. Before I can protest at the awkwardness of this position, you grab my hips and urge me on to my knees on the bed. Truthfully, I don’t require much urging.

My skirt is bunched around mid-thigh, and you pull it up the rest of the way, exposing my backside. Your palms are warm on the cool flesh as you move them in small, caressing circles. One hand comes to rest at my hip. The other encircles your erection; your entire length becomes slick with the moisture seeping generously from the engorged glans.

I turn my head to watch. Your eyes are now shut – involuntarily, I think – and your breath is quickening. Suddenly, your eyes open, and you catch me watching you. With a small smile, you move closer and rub the head up and down my slit.

When, in the midst of my moans, you thrust into me, I’m driven forward. Your hands are gripping my hips and you pull me back against you, hard.

You hold me there, unmoving, but I can feel you pulsing within me. One of your hands snakes around and finds my pussy again. When you feel me tightening around you, your fingertips brush against my clit, playing, teasing, infuriating. Soon this has me writhing, in need, pushing against your groin.

My entire body stills, every muscle taut. You take my clit between your fingers and squeeze, and the climax breaks over me. My cunt clenches around you, all the muscles in my lower body now spasming. Your arm goes around my waist to hold my squirming body in place against you.

As my cries subside to whimpers, you grab my hips again and drive into me. Because my wrists are still tied, I can’t get quite get purchase. It doesn’t matter. You’ve started the final part of this attitude adjustment session, moving me up and down on your cock as easily as if I were a rag doll.

My body shifts back and forth, as you thrust into me, harder and faster. Then, you pull me against you and stop, and I look around quickly, to see you, body tense, back arched, head back, eyes shut. You erupt into me, and your seed comes in hot, thick spurts, spilling out of me, and trickling down my pussy.

Finally, your breathing returns to normal and your pumping slows as your cock contracts. You lean over me, your groin still snug against my ass, resting on your forearms. My face is turned towards you, and you brush my cheek with a kiss.

“Lesson complete.”

Tagged – Music Meme

I initially said I wouldn’t do this. But since Cate is so unfeasibly hot I couldn’t ignore her.

However.

I will not be doing the 15-track listing favoured by other participants. Nor including my wife, friends or other people I’ve mentioned during my ramblings here. Two reasons… one is risk. I think posting favourite tracks makes for easy identification (or, at least, it adds to the clues). Pictures can’t be googled yet, but song titles can… call me paranoid but since my wife and I have polarised tastes in music the combination might be recognised.

And secondly, this is my blog about my desire for sexual satisfaction and infidelity. Dragging others in is not fair or appropriate.

Mainly, though, I don’t think it’s relevant nor interesting in this context.
I’m looking for somebody to fuck, somebody to have hot illicitly sex with. Not somebody with which I’m going to have ‘our tune’. So the music I like is largely irrelevant – and any liaisons are unlikely to be in a scenario where I can rifle my CD collection and put on some seductive tunes.

So, suffice to say I like a bit of hardcore trance and a bit of Radio 4.

And since I’m being so balshy, I won’t tag anyone else either.

HNT #26

A little early this week. But then I’ve been otherwise occupied for the last three weeks, so you could say this is somewhat late.

Nothing fancy picture-wise, just me, naked and freshly-buffed from my morning shower. But simplicity is the key, I think.

Since I haven’t had much time or opportunity to write in the last couple of weeks, I’m going to share some words sent to me by a very sexy reader of mine who does not have her own blog, and who was inspired by some of my HNTs. I’ll post them over the next few days, and I think you’ll like them. Suffice to say, I’m very much looking forward to meeting her, when the opportunity arises.