Wednesday, April 9th, 2014 at
“Room 309. See you soon. xxx”
My finger hovered over the ‘send’ button for a few minutes more than it really needed to. He announced his arrival with a quick “I’m just pulling in now.” that set off the small butterflies that had taken up residence in my stomach. They’d been living there for what seemed like ages – ever since that moment we both started developing that mysterious connection we still can’t quite figure out, but were both eager to jump on.
Just press send. This is what you’ve been waiting for.
My nightly dreams had been slowly moving from full on sex scenes to the more mysterious shapes and shadows. He had transformed from the figure I lusted over to more of a memory. His kisses turned into connections, his strokes into emotions, the raw sex into a bond. It was sweet and romantic, but I missed the fucking that once played out in my head. A week beforehand I had lost his image in my mind – probably due to the fact it had been months since I’d seen him. This morning, though, that memory had returned. I could see every inch of him in my head. Every. Inch.
I tapped the send button, and watched as the progress bar moved to ‘sent’.
The butterflies were gone, replaced with vultures flopping wildly around, hungry for flesh. His flesh. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I crossed the room to unlatch the door. I looked pale – why was I so pale? You’d think I’d be bright red given what was running through my head at the moment. How would he come in the room? Would he kiss me first, or just throw me onto the bed, covering my mouth with his hand and cut the shirt off of me? Was I expecting too much and he’d shake my hand and we’d wonder off for a coffee and a chat? He’s always guarded his thoughts so well. Half of me wondered if it was to keep me guessing, half of me just assumed he wasn’t interested in me…at least in the ways I wanted him to be.
I knew why I was so pale. This was the moment that would change everything.
The three knocks on the door broke me away from my own thoughts.
Wednesday, March 12th, 2014 at
“Suspenders as well, or just stockings?”
“Stockings are good. Don’t worry about underwear.”
“Dress? Bra? Shoes?”
“Stick with the skirt. Black bra & high shoes.”
My instructions came through a series of text, with my head still somewhat cloudy from the previous night – and the previous weekend’s events. She wasn’t satisfied with what we had done the night before, and wanted to push me further.
“An hour until I can feel how wet you are.”
Her words kept me on my toes all day long. My over-preparing mind started going into gear. Pull out the thigh highs you didn’t wear this weekend. Dig out that garter belt from the back of the suitcase. Which skirt? Something short that she won’t need to move that much. I only wore that cream colored one for a short time this weekend. Maybe that will work? Her toys are cleaned and ready. Is everything there it should be?
My cunt ached looking at the items she didn’t use last night, but I wished she had. The clover clamps. The purple Tantus. Her new Rodeohs. The ankle cuffs. There was the new flogger that was sat there as well. I knew for sure that she wasn’t going to use that any time soon. She needed to get used to it first, before my flesh was its target. That didn’t make it any harder to look at. Keep going…I want more…
Monday, March 10th, 2014 at
Thank you, sun, for staying out all weekend.
The end of the weekend has arrived. Even though it’s Monday, I’m coming down from the high of Eroticon2014. In the five hours it’s taken me to get home, I’m probably written this post in my mind a few times over, making sure that I balance out the seriousness of the weekend, the absolutely joy I felt being there and the unwavering gratitude I have towards a few select individuals. This will be slightly mushy in parts, as I am going through drop, but I also want to be somewhat constructive.
So why did I go to Eroticon? Why have I gone to any Eroticons? I straddle that weird world that’s not quite blogger, not quite erotica writer. Sure, I write blog posts, run blogs, but it’s not for the same reasons that a lot of other bloggers at Eroticon do. I also write long form erotica and have done for the greater part of my adult life, but as I don’t deal with publishers (well, anything at all after I hand the manuscript over to the buyer) as the majority of erotica writers do I don’t feel like I can use label as well. You’d think someone like me would wonder around in an aimless circle wondering where I fit in.
Not at Eroticon.
Keep going…I want more…
Sunday, November 24th, 2013 at
I’m willing to bet that I’m not the only person who cleans the shower while they are in it.
Two birds, one stone, and all that jazz.
But no, I won’t come and clean yours.
(Images are clickable.)
Sunday, October 20th, 2013 at
I’ve got to be completely honest and say that this was the most complicated review I’ve ever done. So much so that rather than piling my whole experience into an insanely long winded 3k word post, I’m splitting it up. To say I had issues with the toy, the company, and the whole experience is an understatement. The problem? I feel like I had to separate the overall experience (which really has a primary target reader of sex bloggers) from the actual toy review. So, here’s the second part of my In Joy Us Strapless Strapon review, with those little niggley problems that may not belong in a product review.
InJoyUs popped up on my radar a few months ago when I saw them on Twitter. They’re a new company who is very passionate about their self designed strapless strap-on system. When I checked out their twitter account and looked at their web site, the images made me think that they were targeting the heterosexual male who enjoys pegging, as all the women wearing the toy were large breasted overly feminine models who reminded me of the porn model images I work with on a daily basis. This disappointed me, as I always figured a strap on system’s target market would be lesbians as a primary, but it didn’t seem like that was the idea. Thinking this toy wasn’t for us I moved on mentally until a few weeks later when I saw they were looking for lesbian couples to test out their toys. This made me quite happy, and I was hoping I could put a lesbian spin on their products. After chatting it over with the Mrs, I decided to get in touch and see what the InJoyUs could do for us.
There were two major issues with my review experience.
Keep going…I want more…
Tuesday, October 8th, 2013 at
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Sunday, September 1st, 2013 at
This is what happens when Molly says “Pictures or it didn’t happen…”
Friday, August 16th, 2013 at
In the last week, I’ve had a series of unrelated discussions that all seem to go back to the topic of an affiliate program’s TOS, or Terms of Service. These interactions have hammered home the importance of actually reading and understanding these documents and not just clicking the box at the bottom of the wall of text. One series of discussions was with an affiliate program in the making, and wanted my input on their TOS. The other was in relation to a very well established affiliate program that I had recently joined.
TL;DR version – read your TOS, and even if you get the OK from a program to go against the TOS, don’t. You’ll be screwed.
We all are aware of the selective enforcement of these documents at times (as the case with WordPress’s freehosted blog service and their view on adult materials). While a program may be “unofficially” allowing a TOS to be broken by not enforcing it, there usually does come a point where that document is enforced, resulting in anything from a minor annoyance to the full fledged shutting down of your web site. This was the issue I was faced when joining this already established program, taken to another level.
Keep going…I want more…
Sunday, July 28th, 2013 at
Check out all the entries from the latest Sinful Sunday competition.
Wednesday, July 17th, 2013 at
She was about as innocent as they come. Fresh faced 19 year old English girl in the US for the very first time. Hell, out of her parents’ home for the very first time. Unspoiled by anything adult – ever. She was the ultimate virgin, untouched, unaware, unspoiled by anyone’s hands or minds. She was also painfully in the closet. Not just hiding her own sexuality from others – she was hiding it from herself. She later told me she came out to her parents once, and when they told her she was wrong, she went back in even further. She was delicious looking, to me, although she didn’t quite know how much she turned me on with her butchy demeanor, quick whit, English accent and the way she held a cigarette.
I…how can I say this tastefully…wasn’t so innocent. Four years living in dorm rooms with other women, four years of being a professional submissive a few nights a week, very much aware of my sexuality and what I wanted in life. I had no issues with fucking anyone I worked with, and did it quite regularly. It was summertime, and my usual D/s fixes were done for the time being, as I had stepped down from performing, going to munches, swinging, parties and all that style of life to my routine summer job as a lifeguard. I’d not been with another woman steadily for some time, just a few one nighters and extended weekends here and there. To say I was hungry for pussy would be an understatement, and at this particular workplace, it was a virtual all-you-could-oogle buffet.
Keep going…I want more…