Monday, December 28, 2015

the bed post podcast is live.


And, here are the links!

http://bedpost.libsyn.com
https://itunes.apple.com/ca/podcast/the-bed-post-podcast/id1065089510
And, of course:  https://www.facebook.com/bedposterotica/

Join host Erin Pim, as she invites guests and performers from the Bed Post stage show to indulge her in a more in depth conversation about sex and sexuality.  Published every Friday, The Bed Post Podcast is available for download on Libsyn and iTunes.

Sunday, September 20, 2015

friend date (rewrite).

**This post has been removed due to impending publication with Black Scat Books.  This story will be available soon in The New Urge Reader 2.**



SEXY EXCERPT:


"Yeah.  I doubt I'll see him again, though," she smiles, making direct eye contact now.  Her hand drifts back under the table, and I can feel it resting on the thigh of my jeans.  My breath catches in my throat.
"Right."
"Funny story, though..." She continues, as if nothing is happening, and maybe nothing is truly happening.  It's hard to tell between women, whether they're flirting, or just being friendly.  Besides, to my knowledge, Bethany is completely straight.  I try to just treat it as a platonic touch, swallowing away the excitement, and blinking hard, as if trying to readjust the way I see her.
"Yeah?"  
"The other night... Oh, I can't," she reconsiders, suddenly embarrassed.  She cutely nuzzles her face into my upper arm, playing coy.  Something between my legs stirs.  As if the muscles there are waking up.  
"What?"  I encourage, as casually as possible.
"I had a bet with the guys at work on who could pick up this girl."
"Oh yeah?" I nod, ears perking up.  Does she mean, which of the guys could pick her up?  Or...  Just then, she leans in, close to my ear.  Her hand follows, perhaps unconsciously, moving towards my inner thigh, between my legs.  My pussy instinctively tightens, as if trying to grab onto something.  She giggles, then confesses, in a wet whisper.
"And I totally won."

Sunday, August 30, 2015

friend date (part three).

Bethany kisses me deeply on the mouth, and I think of how I like to taste myself on Mark's lips after he goes down on me.  I'd stop now, content with finally satisfying my curiosity, having finally tasted a woman.  But, I fondly think of how enthusiastic he is with my interest in girls, and how he seemed to have planned the outcome of this entire night.  How he'll get off when I relay the story to him later.  The story of me coming wildly on Bethany's face.  
Eager to return the favour, she moves quickly.  She wetly kisses down my neck, to my nipples, and my torso, not spending more than a moment or two on each.  I barely have a chance to moan or groan, as she's already moved on, planting aggressive kisses on my mound; and I push back, lifting my hips to meet her mouth with each one.  She forcibly splits my legs, placing them on either of her shoulders, and I feel the muscles in my pussy strain for this lustful lady.  Right away, she presses her face hard against me that I feel myself bearing down.  Her tongue and lips move so quickly and forcefully over me, that I can't even tell what she is doing; it's just a wall of pleasure that at the moment, completely defies explanation.  Before long, I stop trying to wrap my head around describing it later to Mark, and just give myself over to the vibrator-like intensity.  I suddenly open up, and already feel the urge.  Push.  Relax.  Yes, fuck...  Do it for Marky.  He wants you to.  He wants you to come for Beth.  All over her pretty little face.  I feel it again, and don't shy away this time.  I groan and release, bucking on her mouth, feeling like all the muscles in my body are contracting at once.  
She joins me, just like I did before her, and we lay beside each other, breathing heavily for a couple magical minutes.  
"But, really, I want a friend more than anything," I joke. 
"Haha!"  She laughs.  "Yeah, me too!"
"Really!"  I say, emphatically.  "We should, like, grab a movie or something next.  Anything."  She looks at me seriously, considering. 
"Okay," she smiles.  And, I feel good.  So very good.   

friend date (part two).

Too drunk to drive, we hail a cab, and find ourselves suddenly silent in the backseat.  My breath catches in my throat, and my mind is racing as fast as the taxi.  Instead, I nervously reach for her hand, fingers loosely lacing in hers.  I dare only peek out of the corner of my eye, so I can't see her reaction exactly, but she doesn't pull away.  Even though my hands are slightly numb, I can still tell that much.
When we arrive, she kicks off her sandals, throws her purse on the floor, and unties her hair in one fluid motion.  Her apartment is small and messy, which Bethany quickly apologizes for.  "I've been working double shifts all week!  I usually only have the time to strip, and fall into bed at the end of the night."
"Strip, eh?" I tease, ready to stop all this talking.  "Now who's flirting?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," she smiles coyly.  "I'm just telling you about perfectly mundane activities, and you're the one who keeps dreaming up fantastic circumstances..."
"CirCUMstances?  How am I expected to react when you talk like this?"
"Haha," she laughs. "You're ridiculous!"
"RiDICKulous."
"Stop it!"  She teases, trying to breathe in between giggling gasps.
"Well, what can I say?  It's hard to keep my mind out of the gutter, looking at you," I say, letting her watch me ogle her a moment.  Her chest heaves from laughing, breasts bouncing with every breath.  Her neck invites me to taste it, reflecting its soft creaminess in the lamplight.  I remember the smell of her soap, and long to bury my face in her skin.  My heart pounds in my ears as I step towards her, my pelvis leading the way.
She lets out a long sigh, finally catching her breath.  "Oh, really." 
"Really," I counter, looking at Bethany's beautiful blue eyes, almost close enough to touch noses.  I loosely lock my hands in hers again, and lean slightly forward, eyes cast down at her soft, succulent lips.  I want to feel them on me; feel her small mouth open on my skin; I want it so badly that I feel myself beginning to salivate.  But, that's not the only thing becoming wet. 
"I want to kiss you," I inform her, suddenly solemn.  She doesn't utter an answer, but instead her lips part, subtly smiling, so that only the corners of her mouth curl.  I feel her sweet breath on my face, as she slowly leans in, and softly places her plump, pouty lips against mine.  Her hands come alive simultaneously, grasping my hands in hers, as she opens her mouth, encouraging me in.  I delicately reciprocate the pressure, politely parting my lips as if asking her tongue to dance.  
Then, I feel my pelvis take the lead as before, pressing impatiently against her, and feeling her warmth through my jeans.  Her hair flutters in the breeze from electric fan, and I feel a similar wave through my body, intensity spreading through the pleasant pressure on my pussy.  My mouth moves from her lips to her warm, creamy neck, and I devour it.  Her fresh, subtle scent surrounds me.  The soft, breathy moans in my ear make my pussy tingle further, muscles tensing and coming alive as if they're reaching out to her, wanting her for their own.  I want her to remove her shirt, lifting it to feel her soft sides, and she pulls it over her head, hair catching momentarily, then dramatically cascading back over her shoulders, like it was choreographed.  
Her bound breasts are begging to be let free, barely contained in a cotton sports bra.  I kiss the cramped cleavage between them, letting my tongue slide sexily in the crevice, having never had the pleasure of touching a girl with breasts this big.  The thin material allows me to fondle her nipples with my thumbs as my mouth wanders back to her neck, then back to her wet, wanting mouth.  We kiss again, as I venture to knead a large breast in my small grip, but I quickly retreat back to the nipple, requiring two of my hands to properly fondle just one.  I remove my own shirt, savouring her warm skin against mine for the first time.  I feel a shiver, I crave the warmth so intensely, and long to bathe myself in it, wrapping myself completely in her.  I sandwich our breasts together, our torsos, even thighs, overpowering her slightly so that I back her towards the edge of the bed, inch by inch.  My tongue boldly plunges into her small mouth, as if pointing the way.
Bethany sits under me, breath laboured, and I struggle to remove my jeans, bending over her and shimmying them over my hips, kicking them quickly to the floor.  She lay back, lifting her hips to remove her skirt, and I take a place beside her, each in our bra and underwear, now.  Hers a sports bra and cotton, full bottomed panties, and I in a mismatched lace set.  I glance downward to make sure my thong isn't soaked through with wetness, my face flushed prematurely.  My eyes turn to her natural loveliness, while she turns towards me, on her side, accentuating a shapely hip.  One of my hands traces her outline, from her soft shoulder, down her delicate arm, to the valley of her waist.  She smiles seductively, and reaches out to do the same.
The contact of her hand through my hair, relaxes me so that I melt into the bed under her touch.  But, I soon brace myself against the sheets, as if using it for leverage.  She moves slightly over me, and I close my eyes, letting her hand drift over my skin, now goose pimply with anticipation.  I feel my pussy straining again, as if it has a mind of its own, begging to be touched.  Her hand lightly moves over me, almost hovering with sensual energy, pausing momentarily over the parts that make my back arch into it.  My nipples noticeably harden through my bra, and I reach around to unclasp it.  Free and anticipating, my small tits try to find her elusive grasp.  I remove my underwear as well, wanting to restrict myself no further.  
She moves over me, suddenly kissing me on the mouth with loose, luscious lips, and pressing her feminine figure into mine.  My knee lifts, my leg wrapping around her, and pulling her into me.  I feel my shaved pussy smear against her hip, my bare folds so sharply sensitive that I almost pull away.  She pushes her cotton underwear down only partially, down to her shapely thighs, wanting to feel herself against me as well.  I feel her small, blonde bush straddle my thigh, and my nipples freshly harden, rubbing against the thin material of her bra.  Our lips meet, parted in pleasure, breathing and moaning into each other's mouths.  I loosen my grip on the sheets, and grab her body instead.  Cupping her round ass in my hand, I pull her pelvis against me, my wetness covering her now glistening hip.  I lift my knee even further, sliding my clit over her silky skin.  Her legs remain pinned by her panties, but she continues to press her trimmed bush against me, softly moaning into the sheets by my shoulder.  
I straddle her, suddenly wanting her very badly, and I know exactly what it is that I want.  The two times I've slept with women, I've been accompanied by Mark, and he was usually between us.  But, not for lack of desire for the women, or any selfishness on Mark's part.  I kissed them enthusiastically, played with their breasts, even enjoyed touching their pussies, one even to orgasm.  I think I was too shy to go one step further, though, especially with someone watching.  For whatever reason, the assertive pickup artist disappeared once we got to the bedroom, despite my aching curiosity.  So it has remained, that I've always wanted to know what it was like to go down on a woman.  And, I think to myself, tonight's the night I'm going to find out.  
I peel her bra up over her sizeable tits, and they fall attractively to the sides.  I follow them, happy at the chase, moving back and forth to suck and flick each nipple with my tongue, in turn.  Bethany's hand goes to my hair again, which has an extreme calming effect on me.  I move southerly, kissing her ribs, down her hip bones, to the crevice beside her trimmed blond mound.  I make believe I can smell her already, and perhaps I can.  I knead her mons with my hand, as I continue to kiss her creamy thighs, and I can feel her pressing back into it.  I position myself below her, trying to stay fluid in motion, kissing her inner thighs, and she quite naturally opens her legs.  I lick the precious pale skin of her thigh now, as my palm presses against her fleshy mound.  From here, I take a moment to look at her.  Similar to mine, but different, folds once tucked neatly below her, now pretty and puffy, pink and engorged for me.  I lick my lips, and venture for her clit.  My hand assists, pulling upwards and pressing against pubic bone, just how I like it.  The tip of my tongue tickles the most delicate of folds near the top.  She moans, encouraging me.  Little does she know, I need very little. 
I bat the hardening little bead with the tip of my tongue, close my lips around it, give a little bit of suction, lick it with a wide, flat tongue.  She arches her back, exposing her tits to me, and grips the sheets.  I moan without realizing it.  Her taste is creamy and mild, like an extension of the rest of her skin, and I feel myself getting wet pleasing her.  My hand drifts to her opening, finding that she is streaming, too.  I tease her with my fingers, and her hips start to tilt, thrusting towards my hand, telling me something.  Her moisture begins to coat my face, and I relish it.  I lick downwards, mopping up the liquid and depositing it on her aching clit.  She continues to strain for my touch, and I give her what she wants.  I lay my fingers at her opening, and her fluids seem to draw me in.  Warm, swollen, and succulent, her walls hug my two fingers, until I find her soft, spongy g-spot.  
Liquid from my mouth and her pussy stream onto the sheets, coating my hand in the process, and I imagine my pussy dripping at the same time.  I massage her g-spot with the tips of my fingers, and my pelvis yearns for the same thing.  Suddenly, she grabs my hair, and I know this is it.  I lick her with vigour, careful to keep a steady rhythm, pulling on her hood, and wiggling the tips of my fingers inside.  For a moment, I sympathetically feel the familiar tug on my own g-spot, and I realize that I'm humping the corner of the bed.  I groan, and she accompanies me, buckling down and pulling my face towards her.  She breathes for a moment, then tenses again, pushing and bearing down on my hand.  Then, in one glorious moment, she cries out, curling forward.  I feel her pussy pulsate, twitching, and I wait until she's stopped before withdrawing.  Flopping backwards, and sighing, I carefully remove my fingers, and discreetly wipe my face on the bedspread.  She breathes heavily, and giggles softly, looking at me.  
But, it's not over. 

Sunday, August 23, 2015

friend date (part one).

**This post has been removed due to impending publication with Black Scat Books.  This story will be available soon in The New Urge Reader 2.**



SEXY EXCERPT:

She walks past the table, not seeing me at first.  I don't call out.  Instead, I watch her gaze around the rest of the seats, searching for me.  Blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail, she wears a black tank top and flowy, flowery skirt.  Behind the bar at the pub, she usually wears a t-shirt and jeans, so I'm taken aback at her feminine appearance now.  "Bethany," I finally say.  
"Ang!"  She turns, gushing, and I stand to hug her.  From the intermittent contact we've had in the past, I know her to be affectionate, hugging me almost every time she sees me.  I welcome it, allowing her to press her ample chest against mine.  She looks downright sexy, I think to myself, done up as if she's on a real date, rather than a platonic one.  Her tank top reveals a tasteful yet alluring amount of cleavage, and a touch of make up on her porcelain face only enhances her natural beauty.  As we part, she flashes an excited smile, her shoulders rising momentarily, before deciding on the seat directly beside me.  It is a little noisy, I think to myself, explaining away the fact that she didn't choose the more obvious seat across from me.  

Friday, July 31, 2015

my two partners (part eight).

Scott

Meaghan, used to late nights at the restaurant, sleeps in.  She also needs a lot more sleep than I do, so I take advantage of the mornings alone.  I type a flurry of emails and Facebook posts pertaining to future shows, and even manage to get some social calls in.  A couple days after the garage show now, I remember to touch base with Emily.  I haven't given this whole thing too much thought, but I know Meaghan would want me to keep the momentum going.  Emily hasn't contacted us either, which doesn't exactly surprise me.  Between her other partners, her projects, schooling, and attending as many shows as she possibly can, I can't imagine she has too much time or energy left over.  In fact, I'm surprised she's given us as much attention as she has so far.  I'm beginning to realize that she's pretty unfocused; but I can't imagine a completely put together person having threesomes with couples, so we'll take what we can get.  There's a reason she isn't in a relationship right now.  I search for her number on my phone, deciding to tread lightly and casually.  But, some text flirting never hurts.
Hey.  Great show the other night, Em.
Thanks!  It was super fun.  Thanks for all your help! :)
Np.  We had fun, too.  Meaghan thought you were super cute.  Her words.
I liked her too!  She's reeeeally pretty. ;)
I know.  She's the hottest. ;)
Too bad you had to go early.
Yeah, I agree.  We should hang out soon.  Maybe this week?
Totally!
K.  I'll ask Meaghan when she's avail. 
K great!
Talk soon.
Yep!
Done.  It's a little manufactured, but courting someone usually is.  
I start to load up the car for tonight's gig, then take a shower,  and see where Meaghan's at.  The door creaks as I open it, and she stirs.  I quietly make my way over, and sit beside her on the bed.  Her beautiful brown eyes open, though barely.  She's not usually a morning person, but she smiles, pulling me down for a squeeze.  Meaghan's been in a great mood lately; noticeably so.  I feel a pang of sadness at the realization of why: Emily.  Or, at least, the prospect of Emily.
I mean, I know we have a great sex life, but who says anyone else couldn't give her the exact same thing?  A bit of dirty talk and playing with her ass, while she does most of the work with a vibrator.  It's not exactly rocket science; though it did take me a while to figure it out.  Months into our relationship, and I still couldn't make her come.  Most of the girls I've dated would orgasm over my cock quite easily, but she was different.  Even with lots of stimulation on her clit; with my fingers or tongue, with or without penetration of any, or every, kind.  I tried everything; I felt like an octopus down there.  Once we introduced the vibrator, things got easier.  She told me that she had started using it almost every day since her last boyfriend, and had simply gotten used to it.  For a while, I didn't know what to do, while she used the vibe on herself; where I fit it.  I felt utterly useless.  She still couldn't come in front of me, feeling self conscious now, from the pressure, or stress.  After I got off, coming inside her, I would leave to take a shower, so that she could do it without me hindering her.  The gasp when she came was audible from the washroom, and broke my heart the few times we did it this way.  Thankfully, we figured it out.  My job ever since has been to set up some naughty role play and play with her ass, while she vibrates her clit.  
Then, she went off the pill, and I could no longer come inside her when we had intercourse.  It wasn't a big deal to me, but it was her favourite part of vaginal sex.  She suggested that I wear a condom, but I can't start wearing them now.  Instead, I blow my load on my stomach, usually jerking myself off while she kisses me.  It's our normal.  But, it's not normal.  It's more like lesbian sex, than straight sex. 
I kiss her face, still dusted with sleep.  "You better get up, babe. You have to leave for work in an hour."
"Mmm," she groans, stretching.  "Do you have a gig tonight?"
"Yeah.  I'm going to leave soon, too."
"Okay," she says, finally opening her eyes fully.  She smiles again, always happy after a good night's sleep.  "Snuggle for a couple minutes, first?"

The gig is a monthly show I produce, with some of the best acts in the city.  The venue is stellar; right downtown with a good sized stage, phenomenal sound, and helpful staff.  The booze is overpriced, but they've got to make money somehow.  Especially since I take the cover charge from the door, and split it between the bands.  The bands get drink tickets as well, so it's a pretty sought after gig.  And, it's at the point where I hardly have to hustle to fill the room.  And one of the people in this room, happens to be Emily.  
Now that she's on my radar, I seem to see her everywhere.  Not that I should be surprised; she makes it to so many shows, and this is one of the very best.  I doubt she knew I produced it, though.  
"Emily!  Didn't think I'd see you here."
"Oh hey!  You neither.  Are you playing?" 
"A small set, yeah.  I produce the night."
"Cool!  Is Meaghan here?"
"Not tonight, no.  She's working."
"Ah.  Well, I'm here!"
"Yeah, great!  Thanks!  Meaghan will be sorry she missed you, though."
"Why, what did she say about me?"
"Oh, I can just tell.  She was crushing pretty hard after your show."
"Really?  Aww."
"Yeah."  I don't want to scare her off, so I decide to change the subject.  But, she gets to it, first.  
"Do you want to know a secret?"
"Sure."  My stomach flutters for some reason, uneasy.
"I slept with someone that night that I'm not even attracted to."
"What?  Who?"
"It's not important.  I'm a little embarrassed, actually."  My mind goes to the other straight guys that were in attendance.  All music friends of mine.  And another thing: why is she telling me this?  Not exactly the thing to say to someone you might fuck in the near future. 
"Hmm.  You were drunk, I guess?"
"Not really.  I don't know.  Just feeling horny."
"Right.  You get like that often?"
"Yeah.  Sometimes it gets a little crazy.  Like when I'm in public. I've masturbated on public transit before.  Like, several times."
"Wow.  I used to be like that.  When I was your age, I used to jerk off like four or five times a day."  Meaghan would love to know that about Emily, but I can't help but think of my own dwindling sex drive.  She smiles, brushing a curl away from her face.
"It's more of a nuisance than anything."  
"Well, you should be careful, though.  You know, fucking musicians in the local scene.  It could make things difficult in the future.  Like, in your career.  Or just, socially."
"Yeah, I know.  I'm feeling that a bit.  I've slept with like four guys in this room, alone."  Soon to be five.  "It's pretty awkward."
"I mean, I'm not judging or anything.  Just looking out for you."
"Thanks."  Her gaze drifts towards the stage, while I try to think up another topic of conversation.  It strikes me that I'm too old for this.
"Meaghan has a pretty high sex drive, too."
"She does?"
"Yeah.  I mean, we have sex almost every day, but she'd probably like more.  And, in different ways."
"I see.  In what ways, exactly?"
"Well, she'd love to fuck a woman.  But, you already know that," I wink.
"Just any woman?"
"One, in particular."  Emily smiles at that, deep in thought.  She doesn't ask anymore questions.  "I should go," I say, gesturing towards the stage.  She nods, and we give each other a quick, half hug.   


  

Emily

"I mean, I'm not judging or anything.  Just looking out for you."
"Thanks," I say vaguely, as if saying it to the whole room.  What a buzz kill.  I was looking to share a funny secret, and he had to get all serious on me.  Not that I don't appreciate where he's coming from.  Older, wiser, and all that.  Coming from anyone else, I might be insulted, but there's something about Scott that makes me feel like he is genuinely looking out for my best interests.  Him and Meaghan really seem like they have their shit together.  I should take note. 
He drops Emily's name again before runs off, and it's good to see that they're still interested.  Ever since my show, I assumed that they had moved onto other things.  Or more specifically, other people.  If it was me, I would've banged the person and been done with them by now.  What's the hold up?  But, I guess they like me after all, and I have to say, it feels good.  It feels good for to be in someone's mind for more than the hour or so that we're fucking for.  It's scary, but good. 
I slice through the crowd, making it almost to the front, and carve out a space at the side, in front of one of the monitors.  The sets are tight, and sound great, but something about this show feels different.  Usually I find myself taking in the whole experience, letting the room's energy wash over me like liquid.  But this time, my focus is razor sharp, and specifically narrowed in on Scott.  As I watch him pluck his bass guitar, the room seems to go completely quiet, receding, like a wave.  It suddenly occurs to me, that he could really help me.  Meaghan, and him, I mean.  My body buzzes, and my hands feel numb.  So much so, that when I discreetly reach down my pants, it feels like someone else's hand.  My pussy is flooded, but my eyes remain as focussed as lasers.  The sound pumps through the speaker as if through water, sounding slow and slightly distorted.  I keep my gaze affixed on Scott, while the arm favouring the wall vibrates my hand over my slick clit.  My other arm, the one other spectators might see, swings nonchalantly with the beat of the bass drum.  I've done this before.  But, it doesn't usually feel this intense.
My clit is as pointed and sharp as my gaze, as I draw moisture up from my folds, flicking it like I'm playing a high hat cymbal.  In eighths, then sixteenths, speeding up as I feel my hips tilting and my muscles bearing down.  Maybe Scott will be the best thing that's happened to me in a while.  Scott, and Meaghan.  Maybe it's exactly what I need to get my life on track.  I picture fucking him, Scott giving me his cock on the quarter beats.  Yes.  Yes.  Fuck!  I come quietly but intensely on my hand, and the crowd cheers.
"Great set!"  I say to Scott, finding him after they've torn down.  I didn't even talk to anyone else, and it's been almost an hour.  I feel different, and I like it.  I touch his arm, and look deeply into his eyes, hoping he can feel me trying to connect.
"Hey!  Thanks, Em."
"What are you doing after?"
"After the show?  Uh, not sure.  I might have a couple drinks.  Then head out.  Why?"
"Do you want to go somewhere and mess around?"  He coughs, as if he breathed in through the wrong pipe.  
"Oh.  Uh.  I don't think that's... something Meaghan would be into.  I mean, we haven't talked about doing things... separately. Yet."  
"Oh.  Sure.  No problem."
"But, you're going to come over.  This week.  Right?"
"Right."
"Alright.  Well. I'll text you."
"Yep.  See ya!"
"Later!"  
Suddenly, the room feels very noisy, like it was previously on mute, and someone just turned on the sound full blast.  I retreat to the quiet of my parent's car, driving home without bothering to turn the radio on.  

Sunday, July 26, 2015

caught with my pants off.

I text my boyfriend, "Coming home soon?"  After waiting the necessary ten minutes, I unplug my laptop, and carry it into our bedroom.

Not that I don't want Daniel to come home; in fact, it's just the opposite.  I just don't want to masturbate if I can get off with him later tonight.  I would much rather share my orgasm with him, but it's a little selfish, too, I admit.  My orgasms are much better when he assists me.  And, by assist, I mean, I'm still going to use my vibrator, whether he's here or not.  It's just an issue of whether I'm getting other things stimulated, while I'm doing it.  And I don't necessarily mean sexually; that is, the smell of his skin comforting me, his deep voice arousing my mind, and our general intimacy relaxing me.  He also touches my breasts, pussy, and butt.  Everything forementioned attributing to overall better orgasms.  And, it just so happens that our sexual position of choice, is usually assisted masturbation.
I plug the laptop back in next to the bed, and settle into the soft sheets.  Remove most of my clothing, leaving only a tank top and white ankle socks.  I'd usually remove everything if I was making love, but doing the activity solo allows me to be most comfortable, and I come easier when I'm on the warm side.  I take up a position on my end of the bed, laying with the laptop balancing delicately on my stomach, and I take out my vibrator from the side table, poised to turn it on.  First, I search for my favourite porn site.  Not that I watch too much porn anymore, now that Daniel and I have moved in together.  My masturbation time has been significantly cut down by the fact that I rarely have time alone at home anymore; and if I'm horny, I'll find Daniel over sneaking off to the bedroom by myself.  And since I'm watching alone, I don't have to be self conscious about what I choose.  This is my opportunity to watch exactly what I want to watch, and I savour it.  I feel a smile creep across my face as I saucily click the category, Anal Sex.
I fast forward, past the interview with the cameraman at the beginning, past the blowjob, even past the vaginal sex.  I stop right before the anal penetration. The part I'm looking for, is the warm up.  Something I very much enjoy myself, I look forward to watching the brief part where he plays with her ass with his fingers, or with toys; effectively warming her up before he puts his dick in it.  Not that the sixty seconds of anal foreplay they show is going to be enough for the average, non-pornography starring girl looking to engage in full on anal sex, because, to tell you the truth, it's barely enough for me to come while masturbating to it.  Sometimes I rewind, and watch it multiple times.  
The man on the video makes her spit on his fingers, instead of using lubricant.  I get mine from a bottle, squirting a healthy dollop onto the vibrator, and placing it on myself.  He bends her in half, lifting her legs, and pushing her knees up towards her shoulders.  He asks her if she's flexible, and she nods, settling into this pretzel-like position.  The man brushes the opening of her asshole with the spit, as I feel myself start to relax and bear down.  Her ass easily takes his fingers, as they disappear inside her.  She must have warmed up off camera.  I watch the delicate skin of her asshole pucker and stretch as he moves them in and out.  He asks if she can take one more.  I feel my clit harden and it feels so good, I almost shy away from the intensity of the vibrations.  
Just then, I hear the front door slam.  "Jen?"  I freeze, not knowing whether to answer.  Not that Daniel would mind if I'm masturbating; in fact, he likes to hear that I'm still doing it.  But, walking in on me, is something altogether different.  I pause the video, take the laptop from my chest, but I don't close it completely.  I'm still planning on getting off. 
"Uh... In here!"  I turn off the vibrator momentarily, close my legs, the lube squishing slightly between them.  He appears in the doorway.
"Hey, I was trying to call you... Um, are you getting off, baby?"  He chuckles, eyes alight.
"Uh... Yeah."
"Mmm.  What are you watching?" He says, interested, taking off his shirt, and joining me.  He lifts the laptop, revealing a still of a the girl's loosening asshole.  
"How embarrassing..." I say, only half joking.  
"Mmm," he says, closing the laptop and placing it on the table beside him.  "Are you embarrassed to be caught masturbating, baby?"
"Hmm," I smile, reddening.  "A little bit."
"Are you embarrassed that I saw what you were looking at?"
"Mmm.  Yeah."
"That you were looking at a girl's ass?  Hmm?"  He says, faux sternly.  
"Yes, baby," I smile, turning the vibrator back on.  He kisses me deeply on the mouth, moving down my neck, to my clothed breasts.  He removes my shirt, bending to lick my hardening nipples.  I press the vibrator against my clit, allowing myself to moan in pleasure.  He takes out his dick, and starts stroking it.  
"You're a bad girl, getting caught, aren't you?"  I feel moisture drip down between my legs, towards my ass, a blend of my own juices and the lube.  With one hand, he feels my wet, puffy pussy.  His fingers glide over my glistening folds, as I feel myself push, almost reaching out to him.  His elbow grazes my side as he jerks his cock, his voice wet in my ear.  "You need to be taught a lesson, don't you?"
"Mmm.  Yeah, baby." I feel his slick hand move down my sensitive perineum, towards my ass.  Immediately, I feel the urge to bear down.  
"So you don't do it again."  
"Mmm.  Yes."  I feel the pad of his finger trace the opening of my ass, in a circular motion, teasing it.  I feel my asshole pulsate, wanting his fingers.  He changes the angle of one of them, and it dips in slightly.  I moan, my ass relaxing to accommodate it.  
"That's a good girl.  You know what I need you to do."
"Yeah, baby," I groan, feeling him enter me.  The role play is perfect.  I love when he pretends to make me do something that I so badly want to do already.  In reality, Daniel touching my ass is rather mundane, it being a weekly occurrence at least, but the dirty talk makes it seem taboo, like when he first started to touch me in this way.
"I need to touch you here, don't I?  To teach you a lesson."
"Mmm.  Yes, baby."
"Are you going to be a good girl?"  He says, plunging the finger all the way inside my ass.  I gasp, the muscles in my ass both pushing and relaxing to allow him to enter.  He vigorously jerks his cock, elbowing me in the side with each stroke.  I press the vibe harder against myself, knowing that I could come at any time, now.  He begins to wiggle his finger.  "Are you going to let me punish you?"
"Yes, baby," I say, voice quivering.
"You're not going to make this any harder, are you?"
"No!"  The liberation of saying this word, whilst completely immersed in the consent play, does it for me.  I open my ass, bearing down in the unique way that combines both pressing and opening, allowing him to stimulate that spot deep within me.  Everything contracts at once, and I cry out a guttural sound.  Daniel continues to jerk off a few strokes before letting go himself.  His glistening semen lands across my torso, expertly avoiding the sheets.
"That was unexpected," he says, breathless.
"You're telling me."
"I tried to phone you, but I guess you were busy," he winks.  I flush crimson.
"Yes, I was..." I laugh.  "Yes, I was."

Sunday, July 12, 2015