Clit Notes

I’ve been thinking a lot about my clit.

As I play with more new partners, I continue to search for the best words and images to help them understand what I like best, what actually brings me to orgasm. When I was a little girl, long before I knew what I was doing, I masturbated by squeezing my legs together, one leg wrapped around the other. As I matured, I tried other methods, turning household objects into sex toys, using my fingers, but I always returned to squeezing my legs in increasing pulses of muscle clenches. It always delivered that amazing feeling that I was wanted.

When I started playing with partners, I enjoyed everything we did: finger fucking, oral sex, penis/vagina intercourse, but none of these things brought me to that place that I could achieve so easily just by squeezing my legs together. When a partner would pay special attention to my clit, sometimes it felt great, but sometimes it was painfully ticklish, and I would wind up pushing them away, not knowing how to guide them. I began to analyze what I was feeling when I squeezed my legs together. How could I figure out how to show my partners how to get me off? I believed strongly that I deserved orgasms as part of partner sex, but I just didn’t know what worked, other than this obviously solo game of leg squeezing. I worked more with my fingers, messaging my clit, fucking myself with my fingers, and I bought my first vibrator. I quickly found that fucking myself with the vibrator felt great, but it wouldn’t bring me to orgasm. But if I clutched the vibrator between my legs, near, but not directly on, my clit, I could jerk myself off very easily. I realized that what I needed was strong pressure around my clit, but not directly on it. The pulse of the vibrator, or of my clenching and unclenching legs, provided exactly that.

As I began to play with my beloved C, and sex became more adventurous and fun than ever, he helped me with my exploration. I could tell him when the touch was too direct, and it made me uncomfortable rather than hot, and he would adjust until he found the right spot. I discovered that I loved the combination of penetration and clitoral simulation: his fingers fucking me, his thumb, sometimes joined by my fingers, rubbing that area above my clit.

I owe a lot to Ducky Doolittle, the amazing sex educator and former web cam girl. This is why you should continue going to great sex ed classes throughout your life. I thought I knew so much, but she was the first one to really explain the full extent of the clitoral anatomy: legs, shaft, hood, and all. I found this video link on Ducky’s site, from the legendary queen of masturbation Betty Dodson (and via Susie Sexpert herself, Susie Bright). This explains it much better than I could. I love these women! This diagram from wikipedia is also helpful.

Now I had a visual image of the internal anatomy of pleasure, and I could really begin to understand what was happening and what was working. I rub the area just above my clit, from the edge of the hood, up into my pubic mound. Throughout that area I can feel my erect clitoral shaft, and directly simulating that is what leads me most satisfyingly to orgasm. If I place the head of my Hitachi Magic Wand against that area, turn it up to full, and press down hard, I can orgasm in a minute. Not to say I’m always striving for such instantaneous efficiency in an orgasm, but knowing how that works helps me in other situations. I can create this stimulation with my fingers too, or someone else’s, if guided to the right spot.

Recently, I was playing with a lovely partner, and he’d fucked me good and hard with a couple of fingers, made me squirt and squeal. Then he bathed me with the warmth of his tongue, and I floated in the bliss of that. But then I wanted a mind-blowing clitoral orgasm to top off the night. He’s such a good student, this one. I showed him, simply, where to rub. People came running from the other playroom down the hall to watch the aftermath as I moaned and screamed with pleasure. So simple. Yet so infinitely complicated. Every woman different…

To be continued.

Après Soirée Musings

It was a great party. I’m not ready to write about my adventures in detail. I need to mull things over for a while. Enjoy having them to myself. Then, sometimes, eventually, they bubble up into blog entries. Sometimes not. This blog doesn’t exist to immediately chronicle every sex act in which I partake. I may be spending a good part of this year figuring out what IS the raison d’être of this blog, but I know that’s not it.

There are some thoughts bubbling over, however, from the weekend. I really like the dinner party/sex play party format. It creates a comfortable, casual atmosphere to begin the evening. It does mean that you have to just allow for a digesting period. I ate too much, despite my best efforts. The food was so good. Some people were already running upstairs to play, and I just wasn’t ready. Instead of getting frustrated, I got some fresh air in the back yard, drank some soda, and waited. Soon, I was ready.

I was feeling Toppish most of the night. My outfit worked out well for that. I stayed dressed for a long time, mainly playing the voyeur and occasionally reaching out to touch from the fortress of my clothes. Then I shed my blouse and skirt, and was very happy in my black panties, stocking, and boots. And with my favorite toy. I looked and felt quite the Domme, and had a lot of fun with that. Then I reached a point in the evening when I was ready to allow myself a different kind of pleasure, so I removed panties, stockings, and boots, and spread myself out for someone else. I enjoy deciding when to let go of control. That means I decide when I want to be touched. I really can’t let anyone touch my tits or pussy when I’m feeling Toppish. I’m so sensitive; a brush of my nipples or clit makes me lose control too quickly. Good things to know, and with which to play.

I enjoy playing with people I already know at parties. I won’t shut myself off to the chance electric encounter with a stranger, but it’s not my main goal at a party. To play with someone whom I know fairly well, and with whom I’ve shared a simmering of mentioned or unspoken desire, but have not yet had the opportunity to explore that desire… for that exploration to happen at a party, that is really the best scenario.

I must reiterate one of the points on the freaksexual post I linked to in my last entry: don’t get too drunk at a sex play party! It’s very unpleasant for the other people there, and it WILL NOT get you laid. I’m not saying don’t drink. I like a little liquor lubrication myself. But know your limits.

Published in: on January 15, 2008 at 2:01 pm  Leave a Comment  
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Dressing Up for Undressing

I’ll admit it: I find it very hard to get ready for a sex play party. The whole preparation makes me a nervous wreck. What to shave or not to shave? What to wear or not to wear? And you really need two outfits. What you arrive in, which should make you feel sexy, but also be street safe and comfortable enough to travel in, and then I usually also plan an “undressed outfit.” The basic version of this is usually a bra and panties with stockings and boots, all black. Sometimes I might try a variation. I have a cream colored corset-like thing I wore as a bridesmaid once, that makes a nice second outfit. And some cheap Fulton Street Mall lingerie that I’m fond of…
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Tonight I have a cute new top from Torrid to wear (my favorite big girls clothing store/site), and I think I’ll go for the simple black undergarments for my later look. Of course, the hope is to eventually get naked, but I like to know what my in-between look is going to be.

Eating before a play party is also a concern. You need your strength and certainly don’t want to have a low blood sugar bitch attack, so eating something is crucial. But what to eat? I hate arriving at a party feeling too full and needing to spend hours digesting before I can think about playing. That’s happened to me too many times, especially when I’ve arranged a social dinner with friends before the party. I have friends who swear by Sushi as pre-play food, but Sushi doesn’t always sit right with me, so I find it risky. A sandwich, something with protein, easy on the fried foods, easy on the heavy starches (I try to avoid using the term “carbs,” it’s so diet industry!) Sadly, I must avoid the legumes pre-party. If you don’t know what I’m talking about you are lucky.

Tonight’s party is actually a dinner party and a sex party, so I’m planning to go nice and early to enjoy the eating portion of the evening, and then have plenty of time to digest and relax before thinking about any other activities. Wish me luck!

If you have sex party etiquette questions, check out this smart post by freaksexual.

Published in: on January 12, 2008 at 4:19 pm  Comments (2)  
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From the DO Vault: Hotel Sweets

Since, for the moment, in my working-out-of-town-state, it’s just me and the Hitachi Magic Wand, I’m going to delve back in time to the lost but not forgotten days of Dark Odyssey Spring Fire. “What?” you may ask, “haven’t you spilled those savory secrets already?” A Gold Slut knows how to save for a rainy day, and I’ve held onto this morsel for just such an occasion.

I wore one of my favorite outfits. A long, lace negligee in black and red, very sheer. I bought it for $5 in a great little store full of trashy underwear for big girls. The men were naked and the women were in lingerie; that was the premise of the party. As if we needed a premise… pack a horde of randy swingers into a hotel suite with free flowing booze… and party all night! I remember a glorious moment watching the hostess pressed up against the window that faced the Capital Building, clothes torn away, two men doing their best to please her. Take that Congress! The Perverts are here to play!

I was lying in the center of a vast king-sized bed. My first playmate of the night had given me a good hard fucking, but then left abruptly when C entered the room. He made a joking remark, “who’s this fucking my girlfriend?” Something like that. The guy jumped up, muttering something about making way for C, then bolted. We learn, little by little, what kinds of humor work in these situations, and what doesn’t. Sigh. I do love that my boyfriend can scare someone off with a joke, makes a gal feel safe walking down the street, believe me. So I sat in a state of Coitus Interruptus, sharing a laugh with my love.

An influx of raucous guests filled the room, and then the bed. I found myself rapidly transformed from the girl with the vacant thighs to the one at the center of an orgy. A dear friend was lapping at my left nipple, and, with an enthusiastic wave, she urged another dear friend over to take care of my right. What are friends for? The gentleman friend of the second woman took pride of place between my legs. He began that delicious combination of firm fingers and a fierce tongue that always sends me over the edge. With three tongues and a plethora of fingers at work on me, I melted into spasms and moans, riding the face of the kind gentleman, while the two friends tickled and teased me. I don’t think of myself as a squirter, but there was quite an impressive wet spot in that grand king -sized bed.

I hear the Hitachi whispering my name. Perhaps I will remember more tomorrow.

Published in: on October 11, 2007 at 2:05 am  Comments (3)  

fun with a subby boy

“How do you like to come?” I asked doug, as he pounded away at me in a delightful fashion.

I went to this party to get fucked, and doug was very obliging. He actually asked if he could kiss my ass. Literally. It was a lovely offer, and I accepted graciously. I lay down on the bed and presented the ass in question. It is a really big, luscious ass. He applied his lips gently, reverently. Soft little kisses along my cheeks, teasing my crack. Strong hands massaging. I luxuriated in the attention. But, as I said before, I wanted to get fucked. I thanked doug for the lovely ass-kissing, leisurely rolled onto my back, and told him to get on top of me and start fucking. He grabbed a condom, slipped it on, and climbed up. He slid easily into my wet pussy. “Good boy,” I said. “Now fuck me hard.” And he did.

I was very happy, getting the good hard fucking that I’d been needing, and was feeling very fond of sweet doug. So I asked, “How do you like to come?” thinking we could have some fun playing out a favorite scenario. He paused briefly. “I like to be tied up, forced to wear women’s clothes, and dominated.” I confess I had been expecting something more along the lines of a blowjob or a titty fuck, but here was this wonderful surprise lurking behind this clean-cut, outdoorsy, rugged guy. I love living in a kinky world!

I had to give this some thought. We took a break, and rejoined friends drinking and chatting in the living room. It was comfortable, sociable, everyone in some state of undress, with tousled hair and sticky parts. A delicious suburban orgy.

Of course! The lightbulb went off. I had brought a frilly black and pink negligee to change into when the play started, but since I had opted to go straight to nude I had forgotten about it. I grabbed my riding crop, the lingerie, and a medium length of red rope. doug was giving foot massages. I stood above him holding the crop. “I need you upstairs as soon as you are finished with that one.” Far be it from me to rob a woman of her foot massage. I went up to the guest room to prepare. I laid out the negligee, the rope, and gloves and lube.

A few minutes passed, and just when I was beginning to get impatient, doug arrived with an audience. I had enlisted a dear friend to help, and she and I rapidly pulled off his t-shirt and underwear, and dragged the negligee over his head. I circled behind him with the rope, and bound his hands behind his back. Pushing him forward, I presented him to the room. “Isn’t it a pretty girl?” I demanded, and our audience enthusiastically agreed. I turned to my friend. “Now, what are we going to do with her?” We moved our girlie toy back to the bed, and forced her down on her knees on the bed. I stroked the erect penis that dared to intrude through the sheer black gown. “Such a pretty girl.” I leaned over and whispered in doug’s ear, “I’m going to fuck you in the ass.” He nodded his assent. “Please be gentle,” he begged.

I slipped my hand into a latex glove and slathered my fingers in lube. While my kind assistant played with doug’s cock, I moved my index finger against his tender hole, making small circles with the lube, feeling for signs of readiness. When it felt right, I slid my finger into his ass up to the first knuckle and rotated it gently. He opened up to my touch, and I moved in further. I began slow in-and-out movements. “I’m fucking you pretty girl,” I said, as I moved my finger faster. I asked one of our audience members to pour me some more lube, and I pulled out just enough to add a second finger on top of the first. I glided in and out of his asshole, while my friend continued to play with his cock. With my other hand, I gave a tug on his bound hands, reminding him how completely in our power he was.

“Is this what you wanted?” I demanded. “Oh yes,” he whispered. I withdrew my fingers from his ass and moved around to face him. I reached under the delicate fabric of the lingerie and grabbed his cock. “That’s what I thought. Now, I want you to fuck me some more.” My friend helped him lie back on his bound hands, and I climbed on top of him.

Published in: on July 23, 2007 at 10:58 pm  Comments (12)  

The Back Room

I dreamed of the Back Room when I was an awkward, fat adolescent, cut off from the potential of my curvy female body. Late at night, I watched indie movies in which swarthy men groped each other in public bathrooms, or pretty English boys petted each other silently in fear of waking their sleeping dorm-mates in the boys’ school. I jerked myself to sleep with my imaginary cock nestled in the ass of a sweaty man in the Back Room of a club, music pounding, bodies pounding.

After fisting the beautiful boy at the party a few weeks back, I took a well-deserved rest and began to think about making my way homewards. But the beautiful boy and his perfect ass wanted more. I was awed by the hunger of that ass. I had to feed it again. He took my hand and graciously led the way to the Back Room. It’s not an official Back Room… it’s just another room at the party where the men tend to congregate in writhing masses. I sometimes cast a longing gaze there, but belle of the ball that I was, I still felt separate from that room. But with the beautiful boy leading me… the giant dildo in my firm grip… I grabbed the whole bottle of lube from the supply table and swaggered back there in my black leather boots and black underwear, my bare tits swinging.

A hot trans-gal with perky tits and an equally perky cock was being fucked on the bed at the far end of room. Her moans were electrifying. She was surrounded by a crowd of eager men who seemed to be channeling their strength to the man who was actually doing the fucking, experiencing each thrust and moan along with him. A few of them shifted their focus to us, as the beautiful boy nestled himself into a leather sling, wrapping his legs up around the chains, opening his ass to me. I snapped a glove onto my hand and squeezed a stream of lube onto my fingers. He was still so ready from the fisting; my fingers slipped right into his asshole, welcomed back into the warmth of his body. I fucked him with my fingers, slow and hard. The bed was quiet and all attention was on us. A surging crowd of men surrounded us. I eased my fingers out of him and reached for the giant dildo.

I took my time, all too aware of the crowd’s anticipation. And the boy’s anticipation. I poured a stream of lube onto the cock, and gripped it firmly in my fist, making it my own. I eased back into him, and when I felt only welcoming longing, I plunged, burying my giant cock in his ass. In and out, I fucked him with long, hard thrusts, leaning into the sling, my whole body moving the cock I had made mine. His moans of pleasure were so sweet, and I looked into his eyes, gazing into mine with adoration, that I could make him feel so good. I could feel the straining crowd all around me… the hot sweaty men pushing against me, longing to share the physical sensations with us. I thrust my cock again and again into that luscious ass, surrounded by the pressing flesh of men. The beautiful boy’s climactic, joyful shouts brought me back to myself… the only biological female in the room, the center of all the attention. I was there. I was part of it. The Back Room.

Published in: on June 19, 2007 at 12:03 am  Comments (15)  

Goldslut on Top

An encounter that begins when a beautiful boy with a stunning ass puts a large dildo in my hand can only get better. He disappeared to get supplies, leaving me to enjoy gesticulating with the dildo, as I greeted friends arriving at the party. He returned a few moments later, naked with his hard cock pointing at me plaintively. I handed him back the dildo, and asked my friends to pardon me. I briefly took that perky cock into my mouth, but that pretty ass was calling. I gave his cock a final smack and then let him ready himself. I watched as he lubed his ass, put a condom on the dildo, soaked it in lube, and then teased it up his asshole. Such a nice boy to get himself all ready for me to fuck him.

I took control of the dildo, and, while he leaned over the bed pushing his ass out to me, I slowly slid the dildo in and out of his asshole, each time pushing it in a little deeper. He groaned with pleasure and turned up that sweet little ass even more, giving it to me. I ran my free hand up his stomach tangling myself in his super soft hair, working my way up to give his nipple a twist. I stood there in black panties and heeled black leather boots, one boot up on the bench to give myself leverage to lean into him with the dildo. In and out, in and out, I fucked his ass with all my concentration. He wanted more. Such a good boy, he retrieved the dildo and put it away, pulling another one nearly twice its size out of his toy bag. He put a condom on the new dildo, lubed it up, and handed it to me. We had quite a crowd watching by now, but my friends kept them all at a respectful distance as I readied his ass for the huge dildo. I eased it into his hungry asshole, and as it slid in so nicely, pushed it deeper. He groaned in pleasure, and in one of those beautiful moments of athleticism that occasionally happen in real life, he twisted his body around to lie on the bed facing me, never losing contact with me and the dildo. He beamed up at me as I towered over him, fucking him harder and deeper. He and I had played this game before, and we both knew the best was yet to come. I looked into his eyes and saw that he was ready.

I slipped out the dildo, and grabbed a glove and lots of lube from the supply table. I slipped my right hand into the glove and soaked it in lube. Holding my three middle fingers closely together, I eased all three into his waiting ass. His ready muscles moved to greet my fingers, guiding me in further. I added more lube, and moved my three fingers in and out of his anus, going a little deeper each time. We kept eye contact, and I could see that he wanted more still, and I was going to love giving it to him. More lube, a slight, gradual twisting and pushing, fingers closing into a loose fist, and there I was, inside his ass up to my wrist. It is such a powerful, exciting feeling. Up to that point I’d been concentrating so hard that I was barely aware of what my own body was experiencing, but now that I was in, I could relax a little and enjoy. My pussy juice was soaking through my panties, and I adjusted my legs so I could place a little pressure on my clit by squeezing my thighs. His anal muscles were clenched around my wrist in a delicious squeeze, and his warm, lubed passage welcomed me in, undulating with pleasure. I rocked ever so slightly, pushing back and forth inside him. When you are fisting someone, every movement becomes magnified, so the tiniest adjustments of hand and fingers bring new delights. My beautiful acrobat butt-boy wanted to perform for me again. He literally spun around on my fist, keeping me deep inside him as he switched to a standing position. He leaned forward and found balance, then began to lower himself onto my first. He established a nice up and down rhythm. His muscles clenching my wrist seemed to be connecting directly to my clit, as I stood very still and just allowed him to fuck my fist. I could tell from my nearby friends that I was glowing with pleasure. Their naughty smiles, especially that of my love C, urged me on, and I took over again, fucking him harder. I extended my fingers even deeper into his ass, as he begged me for more. He gasped, moaned, and sputtered, and it was time for me to begin the slow process of pulling out. Ever so slowly, I eased my lubed fist out of his luscious ass. He groaned softly as the full width of my fist passed through his asshole, and then I leisurely pulled the last inches of fingers out.

Thank you, he whispered. Thank you, I replied. We beamed at each other and kissed softly, sweetly.

Published in: on May 28, 2007 at 9:44 pm  Comments (10)  

Slutting in the Suburbs

It was December 2004. C and I had been together in New York for two years, and we were beginning to dip our toes into the kink and swing scenes. We’d had all kinds of adventures on the West Coast, but that world in New York was new for us. A savvy, kinky couple that we were getting to know—I’ll call them Allison and Larry—invited us to a party at their friend’s place in Jersey. She’s an artist, laid-back, gorgeous, and sensual, with sleek black hair and the breasts of a goddess. He appears very buttoned up, like he just left the office (which he usually has), a perfect foil to his bohemian partner. Allison told us that there probably wouldn’t be sex at the party, but that there would definitely be S&M scenes. “There might be some piercing,” she warned us. That was something I hadn’t seen before, so it was with a nervous thrill that we approached the unassuming two-story house tucked away on a quiet street with a church at one end and a school at the other.

The door was answered by a young man wearing the frilliest dress I had ever seen. The skirt stood out at an extreme angle over multiple layers of lacy petticoats, barely touching her knees, and the short-sleeved bodice was decorated with more lace and a spotless apron that followed the skirt on its journey over the petticoats. A starched maid’s cap sat upon her bewigged head. As she led us up the stairs to the second floor apartment, wobbling on her four-inch heels, she confided that she had been in training, and that this was her first night serving as a “Sissy Maid.” This term was new to me. I would continue to learn about Sissy Maids throughout the night.

We were greeted by the Hostess: a blonde venus with delicious curves, pierced nipples, and wearing nothing but a pair of silver boy-shorts. Allison turned to us and whispered, “Maybe it is THAT kind of party.” But our Hostess was engaged in a much more complex activity. She was just applying the final medical bandages to complete the mummification of her boyfriend. She was being aided in this project by a petite, muscular nude man, who, we were informed, was a doctor and knew what he was doing. They had rigged up an elaborate system through which the mummy could urinate, and there were many enjoyable moments throughout the evening when the party’s attention turned to the mummy who tried to please us with a demo, though usually the pressure and the accompanying teasing made him pee-shy.

The Sissy Maids brought us drinks. There were two in training to an expert Sissy Maid, and the three of them kept everyone at the party happy and well lubricated. The Hostess had made little cardboard signs explaining that the Sissy Maids were there to serve the guests, and that if they pleased us, we could, if we chose, reach under their little frills and give their genitals—which were nicely packaged in ribbons and tied up with a bow and a bell—a tug or two as a reward.

More people arrived. Sections of the living room were claimed for S&M play. A leather-clad man politely asked the Hostess if he could use the dining table for a scene. He began to entwine a nude, longhaired woman in elaborate rope bondage. Allison asked us if we wanted to play, and produced the couple’s toy bag. C announced that he would like to try being flogged by Allison. She grabbed a selection of floggers, and the three of us went into a back bedroom. Allison made C strip and lean over the edge of the bed with his exposed ass in the air. She took one of the softer floggers and began to hit him with it, gingerly, conscious that he was new to this kind of play. I stood to the side and watched. It was thrilling to watch this beautiful woman take control of my boyfriend. I moved to the bed, facing him, stroking his face and kissing him, as she continued to flog with growing power. C took his flogging stalwartly, with only an occasional yelp, and was rewarded with a lingering kiss from Allison.

C and I were ready for a little rest after our inaugural S&M adventure, so we sat down on the couch in the living room, were served drinks by a Sissy Maid, and chatted with the mummy. The Hostess had changed into a less revealing but equally sexy outfit, and was lounging in a chair with her legs up on an ottoman and a martini glass in hand. “This is the life,” she said. “My submissive is taken care of,” she gestured to the mummy, “and I have Sissy Maids to take care of my guests, make me martinis, and clean-up.” I could see her point.

I had already seen and experienced enough exciting new things for the party to be considered a successful night out, but I wanted something more. C had found new friends—in fact I was thrilled to see him alternately talking intently and making out with this very cute, thin, bespectacled man—but I still felt like a voyeur when I wanted to be a participant. Just then, two warm hands began massaging my neck and shoulders. It was Larry, whom I had barely seen since we’d arrived. I wasn’t sure what I thought of him. I really liked Allison, and found her very attractive, but though I was also attracted to Larry, I couldn’t figure him out. First of all, he was way too politically conservative for me. We’d been out as couples a few times, but I didn’t feel like I’d had an actual conversation with him. I was afraid to get into a political argument with him (my brother is a Republican and we keep family peace by avoiding dinner table politics). But there he was rubbing my neck, shoulders, hair… in a quite beguiling manner. I allowed myself to lean back against him and take the ride. His hands found my tits, and as readers of this new little blog know, there was no going back. He circled my nipples with the tips of his fingers, with increasingly aggressive pressure, and I began to moan. I lifted my arms for him to remove my shirt, and then he unhooked my bra. He repeated his circles on my bare nipples, first licking his fingers to provide a touch of lubrication. He was very pleased with the results of his efforts, and took my hand to lead me to the bedroom. On the way I noted that C was happy with his new friends, and heard a quick negotiation between Allison and the Hostess about the rules for sex at the party. Allison grabbed a towel from the bathroom and followed Larry and I to the bedroom. She spread the towel on the bed as Larry and I quickly removed the rest of our clothing.

Larry has a gorgeous cock. Allison whispered encouragement to us, as he climbed on top of me and pushed that lovely cock all the way into my ready cunt. Allison leaned over and kissed me, as Larry found his rhythm, moving in and out of me with increasing intensity. He fucked me like that for a good long time, while Allison kissed and caressed both of us. My joyous noises filled the room, and we began to attract an audience. We switched things up, so that Larry was lying down, and Allison and I were helping him to masturbate. She showed me that he loved a tit in his mouth while he stroked his cock, so we each obliged, alternating, pressing one of her round breasts into his mouth, then one of mine. Her tits are beautifully shaped, full and soft. She continued her sexy patter of naughty talk, encouraging him as he sucked and stroked. Larry came with a huge grown as I smothered him with my tits. Allison and I kissed triumphantly across his spent body.

I climbed off the bed and went in search of C. He was in the bathroom with a small crowd. He was standing at the toilet and a stunning Domme had her hands around his lower belly. She was trying to hold in his piss. It wasn’t working very well, but everyone was laughing and having a good time, as different men volunteered for her to try it on them. I went back to the bedroom and joined Larry and Allison for some cuddle action. Other people began to wander in, the pee-holding experiment having come to a messy end. I slipped away from my friends to meet C with a kiss as he entered the room with the thin, pretty boy in glasses. The three of us sat on an edge of the bed to compare notes on our adventures. C’s fingers found their way to my pussy, and as I lay back on the bed, he showed the pretty boy the places to stroke and prod me for the best results. Frankly, I was a little tired from the thorough fucking I’d had by Larry, but there was something so fun about lying there as C gave his new friend a guided tour of my pussy, occasionally stopping to kiss him. They were joined by another male friend of mine, who was invited to join the tour. The three men all had their fingers on, in, and around my pussy. Larry looked over and pouted at me. “So much for after-care,” he grumbled. I felt a twinge of guilt at abandoning him, but, Allison gave him her full attention, and I had nothing to worry about. The atmosphere in the crowded room was light and jovial, everyone in a loopy, getting-tired, nearing-the-end-of-a-great-night mood. Someone teased me about fucking Larry, I wasn’t quite sure who, still occupied with my three guys. “That’s the most conservative thing I’ve ever had in my pussy,” I announced from my prone position to a room of knowing laughter.

Published in: on February 16, 2007 at 1:11 am  Comments (1)  

The Sexiest Basement in Brooklyn

SPAM, the queer sex party in a basement in Brooklyn, got a lot of attention back in 2002 when TimeOut New York covered it, and the curious flocked. I attended much later, after the crowds had died down, many scared off by its fabulous queerness or queer fabulousness. One of the best things about SPAM is the mandatory clothes check down to your underwear. A clothes check is the rule for a sex party on the West Coast, but seems to be the exception in NYC. The number of parties I’ve been to where people stand around in their work clothes, cocktail in hand, as if they are mingling at a company-sponsored mixer… it’s just not conducive to getting to getting it on. Remove some clothing right away and it propels you, mind and body, into a different state. A ready-to-fuck-a-stranger (-or-two) state.

I went with my boyfriend C and with L, a woman that C had been seeing from time to time, and whom I was getting to know as a friend. L was a regular at SPAM. She’d even met her boyfriend there. He couldn’t join us that evening, so we were three… at least to begin. L looked great. She has a very sexy, compact but curvy body and was wearing a silky short slip. I was feeling a little bit shy, between the new surroundings and my uncertainty of where I stood with L. C found the three of us a place to sit, placing me in the middle.

C took the lead, pulling up my camisole to suck on one of my tits. L asked if she could take the other one in her mouth. As I’ve mentioned before, that is one of my favorite things, a mouth on each tit. I agreed enthusiastically, my shyness melting away as her lips closed on my nipple. I leaned back and let the sensation of the two wet mouths lapping at my sensitive nipples wash over me.

We were outgrowing our perch on the couch, and decided to move to an empty bed across the room so we could get comfortable. I lay back between them, and L asked if she could eat my pussy. I smiled and nodded, so L and C shared the job of sliding down my panties, and L began to tease my clit with her tongue. Then she changed to a more aggressive course and fastened her mouth to my clit, creating exquisite suction. C continued to devote his mouth’s attention to my tits. The sensations were intense and delicious, and I was drifting towards an orgasm. Perhaps I closed my eyes for a moment. I gradually realized that we’d attracted quite a crowd. The bed was completely surrounded by men in various states of undress, their eyes fastened on us.

I must admit I felt a frisson of panic at the mob of men hungrily watching our threesome. But I was there for the full SPAM experience, so I relaxed and gave myself over to entertaining the crowd with my writhing and moaning. I do love an audience. I’m not exactly sure what happened next, but I realized that L and C were on the bed next to me ravishing each other, and I had no idea who was eating my pussy. It was strange, but thrilling. And, since the new mouth was doing an excellent job, who was I to complain. As I attempted to lift my head to learn the identity of my new cunnilingual friend, I was boisterously attacked by a sweet but aggressive kisser. This man with thick curly hair and muscular arms wanted to devour my face, my mouth, my tongue, perhaps even my teeth. I gave up on learning the identity of the man down below, and focused on the deliciously eager ministrations of the one at face level. There was something so joyous and fun about his boyish enthusiasm for kissing. He was even pulling focus from the kind soul who toiled away between my legs. I reached out and grabbed his curls, pulling him away from my mouth for a moment so that I could see his face. It was a very nice face. I said hello, and we exchanged a few pleasantries before we dove back into the delicious make-out scene. My hand found his hard cock, and I stroked it slowly while we kissed.

I honestly don’t know how many of the men in the crowd tasted my pussy that night. I was vaguely aware of changes in textures, techniques, and styles down below, but up above the curly-haired kissing monster had my full attention. At one point a young, thin African man came up to politely ask for his share of kisses, and the curly-haired man removed his tongue from my mouth and asked if he could take the opportunity to have a go at my pussy. I knew I liked his tongue very much, so I agreed at once. I kissed and cuddled with the young African man, who whispered compliments to me in a lilting accent. The curly-haired man turned his attention to my pussy with a renewed show of the boisterous enthusiasm he’d had for my mouth. His aggressive licking and tonguing of my cunt brought me rapidly to the orgasm I’d been too over-stimulated to relax and allow. I politely asked my attentive crowd to give me a minute to catch my breath, and I sat up on the bed to survey the scene, snuggling the young African man and the curly-haired man to my sides. C and L had found their way to a chair near the bed, and were pleasantly occupying themselves. And, as I’d hoped and dreamed from my vantage point at the bottom of the puppy pile, members of my crowd of admirers were also attending to each other. Cocks were being sucked and assholes lubed and fucked. I love to watch men fuck each other. It’s one of my greatest pleasures. I lay there, enjoyed the humming feeling of my much-sucked pussy, gave occasional kisses to the two men at my sides, and watched the proceedings with delight.

Published in: on January 20, 2007 at 4:50 pm  Comments (3)