There's no room for that dull old gray area in today's roundup of some of our favorite sex writing on the web this week, since it seems to be the best of times or the worst of times for everyone. Some face rejection with a stiff upper lip (and a lingering stiffness elsewhere), while others dole out callous farewells while the sheets are still warm. And then there are those who wistfully long for the sorts of encounters you can only dream about, or the ones eavesdrop as hot sex is described over a steaming mocha.
Ride the rollercoaster with Jefferson after the jump.
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Sex Blog Roundup
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The businessman seated at Antonia's right perks up. I can tell that he's stopped reading his newspaper and is paying close attention to our conversation. At times like this, when Antonia's beast roams free and she is ready to share, all eavesdroppers are in for a treat. The change may occur in a bookstore, at a theater before the film starts, in line at the grocery store. I watch the man lean slightly closer to Antonia, and I wait for her to notice, but she doesn't.
"The baby oil?" I ask, widening my eyes, urging her to continue, to thrill me. "No, I don't believe you ever told me about the baby oil."
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As i stood in the middle of the room, each one of my limbs were bound with rope so intricately woven tightly that it could have doubled as a sort of modern art. Sprawled across a table, i was put into many different positions; my legs spread apart and locked into hooks in the ceiling and my arms raised over my head to the point where i was nearly suspended in the air and beat down that way. When the pressure of the ropes over several hours manifested in a series of increasing whines from my own mouth, my Owner slapped my face and still, when i moved my arm to try to let blood fill back into my fingertips, He smacked my shoulder. That smarted but after that, i didn't move again.
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I led the way to the bedroom and laid her on the duvet. Needing to grab a condom from the bathroom, I returned to find her naked and under the cover, showing unnecessary modesty. I climbed in and we enjoyed the sort of desultory, distant sex with which I'm getting familiar. Leaving the lady dozing in my bed, I got up to get water. I checked my phone. One message from my ex: "I still love you so much, please call. x." Another from Finance Girl "Can't wait to slip under the sheets with you sexy boy, I have plans for what I'll do to you . . . x." I've become the harvester of hearts, and it's shameful.
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I'd just turned 32 and could've been asking myself, when will this end? But that was a question for the nights I didn't go out. For moments during the day when I felt anxious about my job. For the 6th, when rent was due. When I noticed another wrinkle.
In a hotel about to see a john, especially one who believes he's "above average," it was too dangerous to ask myself such questions.
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I yearn to take you from behind. So face the wall for me, and put your palms flat against its cool magnolia surface. Ease your feet apart, no more than shoulder width, and then press your hips back towards me. I'm not going to take your skirt off. I'm going to draw it up your legs. Feel it sliding slowly upwards, the hem hissing against your thighs as it rises. Feel the sensation of ambient air enveloping you, pressing against your flesh. Feel the material bunching around your waist, and know that my eyes are feasting upon the sight of your glorious arse, your legs, and the soft, naked skin above your stockings.
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It was late and I was finally drifting off to sleep as the last of several storms moved through the area. As has been the case much lately, I fantasized about being with and submitting to her. Something about nicely curved, voluptuous "Amazon" women just really turns me on. Her flowing auburn hair, blue eyes and ample body had caught my attention some weeks ago.
Sleep finally came, and I dreamed of my Amazon queen.
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See also: Sugasm #101: The best of this week's blogs by the bloggers who blog them (sugasm.com)
Previously: Sex Blog Roundup Archive