Dear old Harry Carpenter. When yesterday I heard of his demise, I immediately thought that he’d died years ago, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t sad to hear the news. Another part of my childhood snuffs it. Carpenter’s voice was ever-present in our house, commentating as he did on Ali fights (later becoming Frank Bruno’s straight man), presenting the BBC’s coverage of golf, the tennis (it was only Wimbledon in those days) and the Boat Race. He had one of those friendly, comforting faces who instantly made you feel all warm inside. A bit like Frank Bough without the bondage and coke. Harry also had one on those faces which, like that of Michael Fish and James Burke, never looked how you expected it to look.
So, as I like to honour my boyhood heroes on these pages, I went off to find something suitable to pay tribute to Harry. Where better to start than the bored office-worker’s favourite site, Youtube?
Perhaps someone would have compiled a few minutes of classic Harry quotes? “Oh my god he’s won back the title at the age of 32″ stands out in the memory (Ali beats Foreman). “Get in their, Frank!” (Bruno hurts Tyson before being demolished) is another. Indeed those and more were there to watch and enjoy, but I stumbled across this:
Come on, admit it, that felt good, didn’t it? Yes I know it didn’t include much of Harry, but sod that. When was the last time you heard the Sportsnight music? When I played that this afternoon I felt a warm glow all over me. Memories came flooding back: Harry Carpenter, David Coleman, staying up late on a school night, the BBC actually having some sport to show. This was when Sue Barker was half decent at what she was paid to do, Nick Faldo was still on his first wife, most of still had black and white televisions and there were just 3 channels on TV. THREE CHANNELS (we pause here for my American friends to stop giggling). Sport on tv in the 70’s and 80’s was something to be treasured cos there wasn’t much of it, and what there was had to share what little bit of airtime there was on offer with other sports, all vying to be seen.
Sportsnight lasted about an hour on a Wednesday night, it’s sister show Grandstand had a 5 hour slot on Saturday afternoons. Fabulous if you loved sport, less so if you didn’t. What we now call narrow band-width meant there was no space for continuous broadcasts. The cricket would share air-time with horse racing and snooker. How did we put up with it? Every half hour we’d have to leave the test match at Lord’s to endure the 3.20 from Haydock, or the final frames of Doug Mountjoy vrs Kirk Stevens. Still at least on the BBC didn’t have adverts, unlike it’s rival over on ITV.
And it had Des Lynham.
ITV’s answer to Grandstand was World of Sport presented by the amiable and skunk-haired Dickie Davies. As I was on my nostalgia quest, I went to look for the theme tune.
I don’t know anyone who admitted to watching it, or at least not regularly, but now wish I had. Just look at this!:
Wow!! All-in wrestling, dog frisbee and log-walking. AND Eric Morecabe !! What a show. What a way to spend your Saturday afternoons. All that plus that haunting middle-eight bars of whistling in the opening music. Maybe I’d misjudged the commercial channel. Had I been too harsh on them ? As the Soviets did to Trotsky, I’d erased all traces of ITV from my childhood memories. So I delved deeper. On to the football highlights.
Everybody quotes tales of trying to watch Match of the Day while your they were supposed to be paying fond attention to the girlfriend, but no-one ever talks about fumblings on the sofa on a Sunday afternoon being interrupted when this came on:
Nobby Stiles, Ossie Ardiles and Butch Wilkins with hair!! IT WAS THAT LONG AGO !!. And those shorts must have chafed a bit.
I was hooked. GOD, I love Youtube. Where to next?
Now hang on a minute: Get a grip, man, it’s just nostalgia. Worse! It’s nostalgia for ITV shows. Pull yourself together.
Now where were we? Ah yes, football. Now this takes me back, the Beeb’s finest hour. Everybody remembers Italia 90, when we all got behind the English Team’s ultimately futile campaign (apart from the Jocks who got behind the West Germans. They deserve each other). Of all the superb concerts Pavarotti gave, in all the great Opera houses and concert halls of the world, this is what made him a star to millions in the UK.
I’m sorry, Auntie, I’ll never doubt you again. This was the last era when the BBC and especially the Sports Dept reigned supreme. A golden age. A time when their sports presenters and commentators were household names: Harry, Coleman, Lynham, Eddie Wareing, Richie Benaud, Peter O’Sullivan, Barry Davies (“and where were the Germans? and quite frankly, who cares?”), Ted Lowe, David Vine, Raymond Brooks-Ward (“come on David“) Bill McLaren and Dan Maskell. These are the voices, the sources of all knowledge of my youth, (even Tony Gubba who never actually went to a match but commentated on the highlights from a studio hours later).
Will the bloggers of the future be waxing lyrical over the opening titles to Sky’s Soccer AM or Ford Football Special ? Will they be posting clips from Superleague XIII ? I doubt it. They’ll be seeking out tapes of Booker T and the MGs playing Soul Limbo to herald BBC Cricket, or the theme to Pot Black or Formula 1 motor racing (knowing my luck they’re still be showing it).
So sorry, not much about Mr Carpenter in this one. I just got carried away with the music and the memories. Know what I mean, Harry?
Man accuses wife of giving dowry Rashi Agarwal
Tribune News Service
New Delhi, March 19
A Delhi court today ordered a station house officer of the Delhi police to file an FIR against a woman, Pooja Saxena, and her parents for allegedly giving dowry to her husband, Sameer Saxena. The court has also directed the police officials concerned to investigate the case.
The order came after Sameer, through his counsel, Gaganpreet Singh, moved the court of additional chief metropolitan magistrate, Sanjay Bansal, against his wife and her parents.
The husband has an FIR registered against him by his wife under various sections relating to cruelty against her and criminal breach of trust.
In the FIR the wife has stated that a huge amount of dowry was given to Sameer’s family at the time of their marriage. She also alleged that demands were made by her husband and in-laws.
However, Pooja’s complaint created problems for her also, as Sameer’s counsel, based on Pooja’s complaint, submitted that “if dowry was given to Sameer’s family, Pooja and her parents are also guilty under the Dowry Prohibition Act.”
He referred to a Delhi High Court judgment given in a similar case where the court ruled, “A girl and her parents also become accomplices in dowry cases and action should be taken against them also.” He also refereed to a circular issued by the commissioner of police, Delhi, wherein directions have been issued to lodge cases against the girl and her parents if allegations regarding giving dowry are made and if the girl is well-educated.
The cour said, “In my view, at this stage, it appears that the accused are also accomplices under Section 3 of the Dowry Prohibition Act.”
Checking out attractive women was the last thing I expected to find myself doing at work that day. After months of struggling with both physical and emotional love, I was finally in the relationship I’d pined for. I was together with the perfect woman, the girl of my dreams, and things couldn’t have been better. I wasn’t looking to shop around for girls anymore. I was only 18, but already I felt like the big search of my life was over. A coworker of mine had even mentioned something to me after a couple cute girls walked by us and I didn’t even acknowledge them.
But there was something about this girl Gracie that caught my eye. I worked as a mover, helping people load or unload all their stuff. Jim, a guy I went to high school with, was my new coworker who went with me on the bigger jobs, the shit you do when your in college and trying to make ends meet. We were at this woman Gracie’s house to unpack her huge U-Haul. She’d just moved from elsewhere in the state, and as is sometimes the case, she was very talkative with us since she didn’t know anyone and wanted to know more about the town.
Gracie had a body that would’ve caught most guys’ attention. She was average height, but had a nice big ass and a huge chest. She was neither a big nor a little girl, but she was built surprisingly solid–the kind of girl who could win Prom Queen but who also might have tried out for the boys football team and made it–and she carried herself with undeniable confidence. It wasn’t a surprise that a body like that caught my attention. What did surprise me about my interest, though, was that Gracie was black.
I don’t have anything against black girls, but I’m a white guy from a white family from a white neighborhood. I’ve only dated white girls, and since my school was predominantly white, I’d never had any close black friends. As far as black girls were concerned, I’d never had an interest, sexually. But when I first saw Gracie when she opened the door to greet Jim and I, even before I saw the great curves of her body, I felt a strong, instant attraction.
As the afternoon wore on, this attraction was something I just couldn’t shake. Every chance I got to sneak a peak at Gracie, whether it was the sight of her tight jeans hugging her ass or just her dark eyes with the long, black lashes, I had to take it. I actually stumbled a few times as I tried to check out her cleavage and imagined what her nipples would look like. In just a couple hours, I felt more than single again. I felt like I was on the hunt.
“So where’s your boyfriend?” I asked kiddingly. Gracie was also a very personable woman, so she was okay with personal questions like that.
“Oh, I’ve had enough of men,” she said half-seriously. “You men need to get together and regroup. Try and figure out what you’re doing and what your priorities are.”
“That mean you’re batting for the other team now?” I joked.
Gracie laughed. “Ok, I’m not that sick of men. I just need to lay low and take it easy for a while.” She smiled big. “I hope that didn’t just crush all your hopes and dreams.”
“Ah, Gracie,” I smiled back. “You couldn’t handle me.” I couldn’t believe what I was saying. I was never this forward, especially at work and with a client.
“I don’t doubt it!” Gracie shot back. “You men are all too crazy for me to handle any of you! You lie and you’re messy and all you ever pay attention to is the damn TV and ESPN.”
“I wasn’t talking about that,” I laughed.
Gracie stopped, put her hands on her hips, and smiled at me. “Oh then what were you talking about?”
I had ideas of what to say, but none were playful enough for the conversation, and none were subtle enough to keep me from getting sued or fired. “I gotta get back out to the truck,” I smiled, then escaped outside for more boxes.
A few more box loads later, I was carrying the headboard of Gracie’s bed while she went through a box of clothes in the bedroom. She was leaned over, and I could see the top of her red panties peeking out from under her pants. Distracted, I tripped on the carpet and half fell as I set the headboard on the floor. Gracie reached out to help me just in case I needed it, which I didn’t, but I appreciated the feel of her fingers against the goose bumped flesh on my arm.
“Man says I couldn’t handle him. He can’t even handle my headboard,” she joked to herself out loud.
Me being 18 and her being at least 26 or so made me feel good about her referring to me as “man”, even though she was kind of making fun of me.
“Is that a challenge?” I asked with a smile.
This time my response did get a surprise reaction from Gracie, though her grin told me she was cool about it.
“Oh, you! Boy,” she laughed to me, “Those are adult-only games you’re talking about.”
“So you’re not going to give me a chance? You afraid I’ll win?”
“No!” she laughed. “Cause I can’t lose. If you win, I win. I’m just afraid you’ll be wasting my time. That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“Oh, that hurts, Gracie,” I said, faking offense. “What have I ever done to deserve that?”
“Exactly! What have you done? You look too scrawny to have even been with a girl.”
“Yeah,” I said. But for that brief instant, I couldn’t even remember what Alana looked like.
“How many?”
“Right now?” I laughed.
“Oh, you talk pretty big. No, not right now. How many girls have you been with?”
It didn’t seem right to just answer the question with a hard number. That wouldn’t have been fun enough.
“How many guys have taken on that head board?” I responded.
We both laughed.
“She white?”
“My girl?”
“Yeah. Your girl.”
“Yeah.”
“What about the last girl? Was she white?”
I pretended to think back. “Yeah.”
“You ever been with a sister?”
“No.”
“So you’re telling me you’ve only been with white girls and you think you can talk to me like I’m the one who can’t handle it? Let me tell you something Mike. You’re still a virgin as far as I’m concerned. No, you ain’t even a virgin. You’re still learning about how to be a virgin. And my head board? You take that on and it’ll kill you. Blow your mind.”
“I wasn’t talking about my mind being blown.”
Even I had to admit that had taken things too far. Gracie’s eyes went wide with shock, and then she looked embarrassed, she was speechless, and though she still smiled and it seemed genuine, she looked down and only softly whispered her next words.
“Ok then.”
And then she went back to sorting through her clothes.
“Hey,” I started to say, not sure what I was going to say next. But she stopped me.
“You, boy, don’t know what you’re dealing with. You just better get that cute little ass of yours back to the truck and get the rest of my bed. You’re gonna put it together, right?”
“Yeah, I can do that.”
“Well that’s a start.”
There were a lot of mixed signals in that last exchange, and I pondered over it as I did as she told me. Maybe I had gone too far with the ‘blow’ line, but she still commented on my ass. And then this business with the bed, what was that about? Whatever it all meant, she was still being fun and friendly, and I didn’t feel like I’d talked myself into a corner even if that was exactly what I’d done.
I caught up with Jim, who was still loading the bulk of the boxes and things into the living room. I told him that Gracie wanted the bed next, so we did some rearranging in the truck to get it, grabbed the rest of the pieces, then took the mattress in together.
Gracie stood back as we brought the mattress in and leaned it against the wall.
“Okay,” I said after Jim left. “Where do you want the bed?”
“No more funny guy, huh?” she asked. “Now it’s all business. ‘Where’s the bed go?’ Looks like somebody realized they were in over their head.”
“I’d sure like to be,” I replied, “But somebody in this room is all talk. Saying I can’t handle things because they’re afraid I just might.”
“Oh please, boy.”
“I’m not a boy.”
“Oh, you’re all boys.”
“Maybe from your experience. Maybe that’s why you think so highly of yourself. You say I’m nothing because I’ve only been with white girls, but I say you don’t know what you’re talking about because you’ve never been with a real man.”
Gracie’s smile was huge, but I could tell she was trying to hide her excitement. “Is that what you think you are?”
“I’ll do more than think it.”
“So you’ll say it, then?”
“I’ll show you.”
“I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think so because you don’t think I’m right, or because you’re too scared I might prove it?”
Gracie blushed. “You got a real mouth on you.”
“And how would you like to get this ‘real mouth’ on you?”
A long silence followed. We stared at each other.
Finally Gracie said to me, “Shut that door.”
Suddenly I was very nervous. The fun conversation had come so naturally, possibly because it was so unexpected. But the tone of Gracie’s voice when she told me to shut the door told me something big was about to happen. Her smile was still there, but much of it had given way to a more serious expression. Was it anger, or something else?
Gracie put her hands on her hips and looked at me expectantly. I approached her. When we were close, she reached for me.
“Give me your hand,” she said while taking me roughly by the wrist. She forced my hand up and against one of her huge breasts. It felt lighter than it looked, but it also filled my hand more than I expected it to. When I squeezed my fingers, I was not gripping the entire end of her tit like I thought I would. Just part of it. She lifted my hand, in turn lifting her breast. Through both her bra and her shirt, I could feel her nipple harden.
“You feel that?” she asked. “That’s a real woman. You really think you can handle a real woman, Mike?”
I thought of my girl, Alana. I hadn’t planned on ever cheating on her. But we had agreed that we wouldn’t remain exclusive. I never worried about it, though, because I never thought I’d be tempted to go elsewhere. Yet here I was, with a woman I could not say no to, didn’t want to say no to, and she just happened to come from a fantasy I’d never known I had.
A black girl. Imagine that.
Never had I desired a black girl before. On the other hand, I’d never been against it either. The possibility had just never come up. And now that it had, I didn’t just want it. I fucking needed it.
There was a stirring in my pants. A stirring that, had Gracie been white, might have already been a full-fledged hard-on. But this situation was so new and unexpected. It wasn’t that I was less turned on. I was simply overcome by more then mere lust, and so the erection took longer to become full.
“Cat got your tongue?” she asked.
I thought for a moment of what to say, wanting playful but achieving corny. “Does your cat want my tongue?” Cheesy to be sure, but it sounded much hotter in the heat of the moment. And Gracie didn’t seem to care about how I said it, but was more interested in what, exactly, I was really saying.
“My cat? You mean ‘pussy’?” She pulled my hand from her chest and drew it down her tummy, then tucked it deep between her thighs. She had me cupping her crotch before I could even hope for it, feeling her already intense heat there. “You mean this?”
I pressed my hand hard against her cunt. Our eyes were locked.
“You really think you can handle that?”
I reached around and put my other hand on her ass, squeezing her tight and pulling her to me. “How about we find out?”
She didn’t lean in to kiss me, so I tried an alternate route. Taking my hand from her ass, I reached for her shirt and began to undo the buttons. A lot of her cleavage had already been showing, so with even just a couple buttons more, I had revealed her bra and a generous portion of her magnificent bust. She looked down, watching me undress her.
“I don’t…” she began, but trailed off as we both watched her breasts, overflowing a red bra that matched her panties, spill into view. In a whisper, she continued. “I don’t fuck…” she said, then looking up to meet my eyes, finished, “…white boys.” But her eyes told me I had nothing to worry about.
“You will,” I said. And then I bent down and began kissing wetly at her neck. With her shirt hanging fully open, I slid my hands over her tummy, around her sides, and to her back, where my fingers met at the clasp holding her bra together. Her skin tasted so delicious that I didn’t even realized I’d unhooked the bra on the very first attempt, and so I kept fumbling.
“What about your friend?” she asked breathlessly.
“I don’t think so,” I said between licks and kisses at the nape of her neck and on her collarbone. “I want you all to myself.”
Gracie laughed nervously. But then she shook her shoulders, helping her bra fall off her breasts. I kissed my way down to her cleavage, then licked her there, over and over. She arched her back, thrusting her chest out to me. With my face planted firmly between them, I grabbed each great boob with my hands and held them against the sides of my head, wrapping myself in tit. I licked and slobbered the skin between them, felt my saliva dripping down her dark, black skin.
I felt her hands on the top of my head, her fingers pushing through my hair, massaging me. Her nipples felt huge and rock hard against my palms. I pinched and flicked them, then grabbed passionate hand-fulls of her chest, squeezing, rubbing them against my face. I licked them at first, but when I pulled back far enough to actually get my first good look at Gracie’s beautiful naked brown chest with the midnight-colored nipples, I couldn’t hold back any longer. I dove in and sucked them, wrapping my lips around the nipples and areola, opening my mouth wide and taking as much in as I could, gnawing on them, chewing them, drooling all over them and rubbing them against my whole face.
I felt her hard nipples poke at and spring off of my nose, forehead, and eyelids. I caught the nipples with my teeth and flicked the tips with my tongue, then went back to sucking her tits vigorously. Gracie gripped me by my ears, half leading me and half following, as I made love to her full, dark chest.
Though our knees were quivering, we both fought to keep standing. And though we both wanted nothing more then to rip each other’s clothes off and go for it all, Gracie and I shared a mutual concern: Jim, my coworker, really could make a mess of things if he walked in. There was no reason for him not to just open the bedroom door, which wasn’t equipped with a lock, at any moment since he knew I was in her already. If he did that Gracie would surely be embarrassed. But I knew Jim, and I knew that was the last thing to worry about. Jim was a horny, crude guy. Him finding out about this would become a very uncomfortable situation.
Somehow, despite our lust, we had to maintain some measure of control. Just in case.
Gracie having her shirt open was dangerous enough, but it was a quick fix if Jim did come in. I could stand in front of her, or she could turn around. Not wearing pants wouldn’t be something we could hide, though.
That was why I kept Gracie’s pants on and even fastened as I slipped my hand under her waist, into her panties, and felt the intense heat and wetness of her bush.
“What are you going to do down there?”
Her voice cut short as I curled and slipped my middle finger right up inside of her. She put one arm around me, then lifted a leg and did the same. We were as close as two standing, full clothed, non-fucking people could be. I could feel her hot breath beating against my neck. I could see the glistening wetness of her full, pink lips. Gracie looked from my eyes, to my mouth, and back to my eyes. We kissed. It was very hard and wet and passionate, our lips locking, our tongues coiling and flexing, our faces turning restlessly.
With her free hand, Gracie reached down into my pants and grabbed my hard, hot cock. Because of the constriction of my jeans, my cock, though hard, had been guided down my leg, and there wasn’t enough give in my pants for her to pull it up where we both wanted it to be. She jerked me anyway, holding me tight but pumping me slow.
“Is that all you’ve got?” Gracie gasped, but her voice gave her true passion away. She was at least as turned on as I was.
Rather then reply with a witty comeback, I pushed my finger deeper inside her. She gasped, rose to her tip toes, then sunk against me, burying her face in my neck and licking it all over.
“Take off your pants,” she breathed desperately. Though her grip on me was still awkward, her hand jerked faster on my erection. “Oh, fuck,” she said, for the first time sounding genuinely disappointed. “No. We can’t. God, why did I have to order two of you guys?”
We kissed again. Her mouth tasted at least as good as her skin did. I hoped to find that her pussy tasted even better.
“What about the bathroom?”
She shook her head. “If he looks for us, he’ll know.”
I thought of saying “who cares”, but even if that convinced her, it wouldn’t convince me. Jim would tease us through a closed door, or he’d insist on watching, or persistently suggest he join. No, Jim would ruin this if he even suspecting something was up.
Gracie unbuttoned her own pants and unzipped them, giving me a greater range of motion as I slipped a second finger deep into her throbbing pussy, but also making our disposition that much harder to cover up if we needed to.
“Can’t you send him to lunch?” she asked.
“We ate before we got here,” I said before dipping down and licking at the tops of her brown tits. “He’s new. He’ll suspect something if I send him away alone.”
“Then can’t you just kill him?”
I should have laughed. I’m sure she expected me to. But my body responded in a way that surprised even me. I kissed her hard on the mouth, pulled my hand from her pussy, and hugged her tight as I pushed her back, toward the mattress that was leaning against the wall. As soon as she hit it, I tugged her loosely hanging bra down as I helped her off with her shirt. The garments tangled as we worked together to tear them off.
Once she was topless, the frenzied kissing continued, but the point of no return hadn’t come yet. Gracie was still timid about being caught, and I knew she was right to be.
“I can’t do this,” she said with frustration and fear between licks and kisses of lust. “I need a shirt.” She pointed to the box of clothes she’d been going through earlier. “Grab me something. Anything.”
I pulled away as directed, which took my hand from her pussy. Gracie gasped as my fingers left her. I grabbed whatever garment was on top in the box and held it up to present to her. It was a simple white t-shirt with a pocket and some restaurant logo on the back. I helped her slip it on. I knew she wanted to be naked just as much as I did, but we had to be able to get composed quickly if Jim came around. At least she was without the bra…
The t-shirt went on, but was never pulled down over her tits. Instead, Gracie put her arms through the sleeves and her head through the neck hole, but kept the rest of the shirt bunched up and resting on top of her huge rack. If Jim did come by, all she would have to do is pull it down. Although, from the look of how the very top portion fit her, I imagined the shirt was from her younger years, and that it would look beyond skin-tight if she actually tried wearing it. And if nothing else, Jim would definitely notice that.But for the moment I just hoped things didn’t come to that.
Taking advantage of her unfastened pants, I slid both of my hands down into her panties as I came back to kissing her, and I reached around and grabbed a fat but firm ass cheek in each hand. I dug my fingers deep into her flesh, squeezing her and unknowingly furthering the slack of her pant waist. Before I knew it, her jeans had slipped down from her hips, and when I stopped mauling her juicy lips and tongue and looked down, I could see the black skin of her thighs contrasting against the bright red panties with the wet spot in the center of them.
Now she was fumbling to undo my jeans.
“Get that thing out here,” she demanded. “You better be worth it,” she spat, trying to sound tough, but I knew she was only covering for how out of control she was.
She tugged my dick roughly to free it, but it didn’t hurt at all. After the constricting way I’d been caught up in my pants, it felt beyond wonderful to at last be free. I was throbbing, but my cock only enjoyed the cool air around it for a brief time before Gracie tugged aside her panties and shoved, yes shoved me into her hot, tight, soaking pussy.
She felt so good inside that I didn’t even want to fuck. I just stayed in her like that, feeling her cunt squeezing me. I was shocked that she could be so tight and yet so easy to push my entire length into on the first try. But obviously she was good at this. Her pussy walls milked my cock with more expertise than some girls had with their hands or even mouths. It felt so good that I knew I wouldn’t even need to fuck her to get off.
“Ohhhh, good,” Gracie shuddered. “Ohhh, yeah. You just keep it right there. I’ll take care of you, baby. Just stay there just like that.” She put her hands on my chest and pushed my chest away from hers as she thrust herself out, bowing backward against the mattress. Her tits rose so high that I lost sight of her head as it dipped back, but we were still deeply connected at the hips. I grabbed her breasts and held them together, waiting for whatever came next.
It was then that I found out the expert cunt massage my dick was getting was only the appetizer. Next Gracie began wildly rotating and thrusting and bucking her hips every which way, fucking me so erratically that I never knew what to brace for. Her pelvis worked like it was separate from her, doing maneuvers that seemed like magic. She bounced against me hard and incredibly fast, and I couldn’t have fucked her back even I wanted to. Trying to move would have resulted in a broken penis. So, very happily, I just stood my ground and took it, holding onto those great tits for dear life as my legs trembled beneath me.
“How you doing?” Gracie shrieked loudly toward the ceiling. “Huh, boy? Still think you can handle me? Still think you can be my man?” She was at least as out of breath as I was since she was doing all the work, but that didn’t stop her mouth.
Even though her hands were still planted against my chest, holding me away so she could hold her bent back position, I wanted to be closer to her. I pulled myself forward and found little resistance as I buried my face into her black, wobbling tits. I wrapped my arms around her back and hugged her tight, and my leg muscles burned as I fought to keep myself in this position while taking the fucking of a lifetime from her.
“Oh yeah,” she gasped. “That’s it. Now show me! Show me what you can do!”
Accepting the challenge with every ounce of my body and mind, I didn’t even wait for her to stop her gymnastic-style fury fucking before I took over. I slid one hand down her back and to the bottom of her ass, feeling the thick crack of it right in my palm, while my other hand moved up to the back of her head. I straightened her back up, pulled her to me, and then bent her over again, kissing her with even more lust than before. This time I followed her body down with my own as we sagged against the mattress, slowly dragging it down the wall until it settled halfway on the floor with us laying on top of it, me on top of her, and now me doing the fucking.
I kissed her deeply and held her as my hips worked their own magic, thrusting in and out of her with a force and speed I was surprised to be capable of. I managed to find another level of passion even after that, when I heard and felt Gracie screaming into my mouth as our tongues slipped, swapped, spun, and quarreled.
Finally, when she was out of breath, she fought hard enough to break her lips free. “Oh fuck, don’t you dare stop! Don’t you dare fucking stop!!” She must have been delirious, because her next words contradicted that order. “I want to take my pants off!” Knowing that I was going to remind her about being prepared for a Jim invasion, or possibly just replying to the voice in her own head, she pulled off the t-shirt and quickly followed that with, “I don’t care! I want to fuck you right!”
I wanted that, too, and so I didn’t think twice about stopping and pulling out of that heavenly box to make it happen. While I kicked off my own shoes and pants, I yanked off her shoes and practically tore off her jeans and panties, revealing a thick, perfectly triangular bush of curly black hair and a long pair of thick but strong black legs, smooth and glistening and wrapping around me before I could even get my cock back inside of her. Gracie hugged me with her legs and used them to encourage my fucking as I reentered her dreamy cunt. With as much strength as I was pumping her with, her legs with those thick thighs made it all stronger, and soon the two of us were bouncing atop the mattress. Gracie’s big breasts were flopping. Our bodies were in sync, but we moved too violently to kiss.
“How is that?” I asked, passionate anger in my voice. “You ever had a man do you like this?”
“Oh fuck…” She couldn’t finish her thought because she was climaxing. Her eyes closed tight, her mouth opened wide, and she shook and shuddered all over. Her thighs wrapped around my ass so tight I thought she might squeeze permanent marks into my skin. Her pussy muscles attacked my cock with such frenzy that only a miracle kept me from cumming.
I kept up my thrusting as she writhed in orgasm. She was screaming now, showing no concern for getting caught, and her body responded with vicious, passionate spasms.
“Still think I can’t handle you?” I asked through my clenched teeth as I tried to hold back my own orgasm.
“Oh shut the fuck up and fuck me!”
I complied, giving her another three or four great, deep, strong thrusts, but that had put me over the edge.
“I’m cumming!”
“Yes! Yes!” she called out. “Cum in me, baby. Cum in me!”
And so I did, grunting and crying out. I clenched my teeth and the rest of my body went rigid as I plowed into Gracie again and flooded her hungry cunt with thick, gooey sperm. I slowed my thrusts as I came, instead opting to stay deep as I unleashed my seed. I pulled back once and sped right back in, all the while shooting my load.
“Give me the rest!” Gracie ordered breathlessly. “Give me the rest up here.”
I pulled out and, still spewing, crawled up and straddled her body, heading for her face. A thick trail of cum, bright, almost iridescent white against her black skin, spilled across her from her thick bush to her tummy to between those great tits to up her neck and over her chin. Then Gracie engulfed me with her mouth the way she first had with her pussy. She took me deep and sucked vigorously, her tongue doing miracles right away, and her throat muscles noisily swallowing every drop and spurt of cum I had left. She moaned on me hungrily, suggesting I was more than satisfying.
I had stopped cumming a good couple minutes before Gracie finally released my sensitive dick from her mouth. She was still catching her breath, but she held fast to my cock, holding it against the left side of her face as I grew softer and softer. But even then she wasn’t through. Eventually her hand sneaked under me and took a hold of my hanging balls, then massaged them with a warm, sticky lubricant that I knew had to be the cum I had left on her body.
Maybe it was because I wasn’t expecting a round two even in my wildest dreams. But I was erect again in just minutes. I grew hard against her face, and she licked me while looking deeply into my eyes.
“I think Jim heard us,” she said. Of course I knew that had to be true. People watching television two houses down would have heard us. But I knew she wasn’t upset over that. Instead, she said it as a way to suggest that she didn’t care. She didn’t care who knew what was going on then, and she didn’t care who knew what we were about to do now.
Gracie had been right. I couldn’t handle her. But it was damned fun trying.
Words are important. So I can’t call it “cheating” when cheating means one exact thing – betraying. I went looking in the thesaurus to find a word that means “yeah, you went sniffing around in someone else’s yard, you were a stray dog, but not exactly a bad dog since you weren’t on a leash to begin with.” No such word seems to exist. Let’s try “extracurricularing” – even though it has a schoolish sound and the only school that dogs go to is obedience school, and this not exactly about obedience, except maybe obedience to the fact that too much obedience doesn’t necessarily make for a happy marriage, maybe just an orderly one, which is fine if you think order is sexy.
R. and I have had the leashes off for a long time. We’ve tried different approaches – telling each other about the wanderings, not telling – at various times the wanderings have happened a lot or a little or not at all. Extracurricularing is often on my mind – attempts are made sometimes to no avail and sometimes to avail. R. and I don’t have a lot of sex – haven’t for a while – so of course that makes extracurricularing more urgent. Yet I don’t want for us to break up. There’s lots of guys I could have good sex with (at least in theory), but only one I could love and live with, and I’ve got him. Still, I don’t want to parade my extracurricularing under his nose – that’s just crass and insensitive. I don’t want it to take away from our time together or our focus on each other. Naturally, this is a complicated balance, and I haven’t figured out how to achieve it. So, it requires a lot of discretion, which is not quite the same as sneaking, although it usually feels that way, and as such puts a damper on extracurricularing, because I hate to feel like a sneak. So, generally you’ll find me masturbating in the shower like a teenager.
We all have our shortcomings. That’s what I should have said to “Donnie”* when he tried to play Don Juan in the deluded fantasy of his universe. There’s nothing worse than a guy in his early 20s who tries to impress a woman by acting like a playboy.
A playboy must accrue first the physical specifications and second the accoutrements of a well-rounded reputation. If you’re going to act like a stud, you better damn well have the junk to speak for itself.
Second, a playboy should never let his guard down. Never, ever show a point of vulnerability where a woman can cut you down for years to come with her friends who will from now on rule out the possibility of ever having sex with you. Even though the rest of us are human, playboys aren’t. They have no soul. Remember this first and foremost.
Donnie could have used this memo a couple weeks ago when he instant messaged me on Google Talk. Because I am in constant need of communication in some form or fashion, I have the Google Talk application downloaded on my Blackberry, so I can chat with friends while they’re at work but don’t want to be seen texting at their desks.
So anyway, I’m exploring a new city with my good friend from college W, and I get this IM from Donnie: “Good afternoon.”
There’s nothing that irks me more when a man attempts to amp up his everyday speech for the sake of looking or sounding cooler and more intelligent than he actually is. Apparently I didn’t answer fast enough because he followed with, “Got a minute?”
I groaned and told W the message. I couldn’t possibly be in any sort of trouble. We hadn’t been dating by any means, and we certainly weren’t having sex. How could this have been a bad thing? Then I started thinking about the possibilities. This guy may actually want to make this work. Ick.
Well I didn’t get my worst nightmare, and I didn’t exactly get my dream scenario either. As a product of the 21st century and a fully liberated woman, I prefer to keep things casual. Don’t call me, I’ll call you. We’ll see who breaks down first. Most likely it will be you. (Some may also say this is a product of a broken heart; this is what I call playing it safe.)
It takes him a while to respond, all the while W and I are checking out every hot navy boy’s ass as they walk by (I wanted to hook me a sailor, fa’sho). During the space of time it took him to respond, I thought back to all the hot and heavy sessions Donnie and I had shared, which all ended … unfortunately.
I’m not sure why I kept seeing him, to be honest. It was probably mostly out of boredom and the shallow dating pool I was forced to wade in, thanks to the tiny college town that I occupied.
Donnie was, well. Donnie was special. And I don’t mean that in the I-fell-in-love-with-this-guy special. I mean the wow-can-you-really-call-that-thing-a-penis special.
This was my first experience with such a, how shall we call it, disproportionately sized disco stick. At first I thought he was having a difficult time getting hard because we had a couple of cocktails, which then prompted the thought, “Oh hell no, this won’t work, seeing as how I could use a cocktail with every meal, except breakfast, and even then I want a beer.”
It was just so … tiny. There’s nothing more disheartening for a woman when she has somewhat of a physical connection with a man, only to find out minutes later, that the bastard isn’t packing enough heat to make friction with a pair of panty hose, let alone my clitoris.
So here I am, trying not to gag. Not only was it small, but only halfway hard. There is also nothing scarier to me than flaccid penis. Not only is it flabby and wilted, but it also holds no utilitarian purpose for me. It’s useless. He asks me to go down on him. I oblige, but cautiously. We make out for a few more minutes, and Jack finally comes out of his box (seriously, the only thing that could have made this experience more scarring is if his peen were uncircumcised).
It’s not that I don’t enjoy giving head. I do … but only when the stars are aligned perfectly. We as humans only really enjoy doing it to a very small percentage of people—we just continue to give it because it gets us what we want.
So I’m down there, doing my best at acting like his junk doesn’t make me want to run for the hills, when I don’t even have time to get my bearings straight, and … he finishes. It couldn’t have been longer than 60 seconds. That’s usually my interest threshold for BJs, and I hadn’t even gotten bored yet. Plus there hadn’t been a courtesy tap or warning in any fashion.
What. The. Fuck. This had never been a problem with any of the guys I had dated, casually or serious. In fact, up until this point, I had been extremely lucky. My first real boyfriend, turns out, was more of a stud than I initially gave him credit for. I should use this time to apologize, but I’m not one for apologizing to people who are as big of assholes as myself.
And for my unabashed approach to talking about sex, I’m surprisingly traditional. Well, traditional in the sense that you only get the goodies when you pay your dues. Take me out on dates, act like you give a shit, even for a substantial two weeks. Who wouldn’t? I’m a catch with a nice ass, and if the rumors are true I’m awesome in bed. I like men, and I like partying. The two go hand in hand.
So with Donnie, the answer was simple. I didn’t deign to have sex with him, for fear of becoming a social pariah. Not only had he not expressed interest in dating me, but he also had a stump for a third leg. This was a no-brainer. Why waste both my energy and my standards? There are better stallions to break, I promise you.
So, imagine my shock and laughter when I get this message verbatim (I save chat logs for this very reason): “While it would be easier to let it taper off, I feel that the right thing to do is explain to you that the sexual side of our relationship wasn’t working out for me, and I hope you’ll respect my wish to simply be friends.”
There are two problems with this type of message. First, do it over the phone and don’t hide behind the your mother’s skirt (in his case the Internet) because you’re too much of a pussy to hear what I actually have to say in return.
Second, the “relationship” (if you could call it that) had already tapered off. There was no reason to continue seeing this poor soul. I hadn’t talked to him in weeks and was perfectly content with that realization. Once he told me that someone once compared him to dust particles one sees in the afternoon sunlight … and thought this was a compliment. This is someone I had no business around in the first place; I was just better, and that’s all there is to it.
And third, who says, “Respect my wish”? I wanted to laugh in his face and bitch slap him at the same time. The only males I maintain a friendship with are the ones I respect enough not to conquest. Let’s get real here. His personality was enough to send me home. Take out manual stimulation and oral sex, and I’ve already got my bags packed with a foot out the door.
My response: “I really don’t need an explanation. I haven’t seen or heard from you in weeks, and I’m OK with it.”
Donnie: “Oh. Well. Glad we’re on the same page then.”
See, if you’re going to act like the playboy that Donnie wished he was, just disappear. And make sure the girl actually gives a shit. If she doesn’t … well, you’re just come off looking like a jackass. Or an idiot who has issues with premature ejaculation.
Practical Life Extension
What Modern Science Says About Reversing The Aging Process
There’s an old proverb that rings with wit and reason: “Everyone wants to go to heaven but no one wants to die.” So why do we want to live forever? According to Dr. Sanjay Gupta, author of “Chasing Life” and CNN’s Senior Medical Corespondent, we do not.
The real quest isn’t eternal life on earth according to Gupta, but rather an exceptional life.
While interviewing the foremost authorities on anti-aging and life extension, Dr. Gupta discovered three “universals” — three principles that each researcher deemed critical to extending our lives naturally and empowering us to live exceptionally. They are:
1. Weight training
2. Good nutrition
3. Positive thinking and having purpose
Jon Benson, author of “Fit Over 40″, explores each of these in great detail, as well as asking 52 men and women how they have managed to slow the hands of time down to a crawl. Benson does not waste time with hype and hypothesis. He focuses on real-world examples and applications we can all use to slow down the aging process and help prevent and reverse the conditions that can lead to disease.
Discover more today at http://www.fitover40.com/go/rei1031
You too can live a longer, more exceptional life by simply adopting a smart, realistic and enjoyable lifestyle fitness plan. And if science just happens to catch up with Father Time, you’ll be many steps ahead of the curve.
Christians are always concerned about the sexual lives of others and condemning others. Funny, they condemn all types of sexual behaviors that are legal while they are taking part, IN LARGE NUMBERS, in ILLEGAL sexual acts. Most of those crimes committed against children.
Don’t forget, we need you to send more money than usual to the Christian churches so that they can pay their legal bills and pay off others to hide the truth. So lets help all Christians praise their God for creating child molesters (“I (God) created the wicked for the evil day”). Send them money to hide their crimes and pretend it is not their fault or their God’s fault. You know, the God that created child molesters like a potter forms clay for honor and dishonor….wait…didn’t their God say that?
Remember, in order for Christian religions to grow in our world and bring us their wonderful practices, you need to support your Republican politicians and send money.
It not only costs to pay those large legal bills but they need to pay off as many as possible to keep lots o fit hidden from public eyes and the law.
There comes a time, now and again, where I must cast aside my principle of not posting gossip…..there comes a time when I see a report that just begs me to comment……and I finally could not stand it anymore…..
This from the “Fair and Balanced” Network:
A Kentucky woman was charged with assault after she allegedly squirted breast milk into the face of a deputy.
Toni Tramel, 31, was arrested Thursday for public intoxication in Owensboro, WYMT-TV reported, but it is what she did next which has attracted headlines.
As Tramel changed into an inmate uniform, she squirted a stream of breast milk into the face of the female deputy watching over her.
A press release from the Daviess County, Kentucky, Detention Center, said that after the deputy decontaminated herself from the “bio-hazard”, Tramel was charged with third degree assault.
While the public drunkenness was merely a misdemeanor offense, the assault is a felony charge and a US$10,000 bond was set.
Reports of the case have sparked debates about whether using breast milk as a weapon should constitute a felony assault case, with many readers likening it to an accused person spitting on an officer.
All I can ask is….was it the right or the left? I am sorry I was so caught up in the moment that I am left speechless….
But if you liked that one…..then you will cream your pants over this one……we have all seen those guys shaving while driving to work, but there is even more to that concept…..
A two-car crash on a Florida highway was caused by a 37-year-old woman who was shaving her bikini area while in the driver’s seat, according to the Florida Highway Patrol. Her ex-husband was steering from the passenger seat.
Megan Mariah Barnes and her ex-husband Charles Judy were driving southbound Tuesday morning when they slammed into the back of a pick-up driven by David Schoff after he slowed to take a turn, CBS station WFOR-TV reports.
Barnes said she was meeting her boyfriend in Key West and wanted to be “ready for the visit,” trooper Gary Dunick explained.
It is really hard to make this sh*t up….but why? People are just stupid enough to keep us all busy…..I have been told that a person needs to be well-groomed….the this is taking it a bit to far……
Have you read enough…think again….YES! There is more!
Titty Cheese!
Daniel Angerer is used to getting attention for the food served at his restaurant, Klee Brasserie — but the New York chef is making more headlines than ever over a new dish that has its source in his fiancee’s brassiere.
In Angerer’s case, that mother is his longtime fiancee, Lori Mason, who was producing more milk than she knew what to do with while nursing their now 10-week-old daughter, Arabella.
“Mommy’s Milk Cheese” is exactly what it sounds like: cheese made from the breast milk of a nursing mother.
Okay, I just have to say something……..!
When I tried to make my own cheese all the recipes called of at least a gallon or more of milk…..Now, just how much milk does she produce and how damn big are those boobs?
PETA once suggested that Ben & Jerry should use breast milk to make their ice cream….so this story should have the PETA lunatics jerking off in the corner…..
At 22 I had my tubes tied. I had difficulty finding a doctor that would do it. They were all convinced that I would change my mind and eventually want kids. I am 31 years old and have never looked back. I wish I could have had it done before I was 22. I remember living in fear after every sexual encounter prior to my tubal ligation that I would become pregnant and be faced with a choice. I have always been a pro-choice person, but imagining having to make the choice myself I couldn’t imagine what I would do. Quite frankly, I didn’t want to find out. I try to never say never, but I really don’t anticipate ever wanting children.
I don’t think that most people understand how a young woman could possibly go against what her body was made to do; produce offspring. I completely respect the women that make the choice to be mothers and raise productive members of society. I think it must be one of the most difficult jobs I can think of. I just wanted different for myself. I would feel trapped in a job that I wouldn’t love. I think I am meant to affect more lives than just a few. I think I am meant to do great things with my life. Kids just aren’t a part of that plan.
My husband works on the North Slope of Alaska and is gone for two weeks at a time. Yes that means no hard cock for two weeks unless we have something worked out with friends……..another story anther time. So we have had phone sex for years, now with webcams we get even more explicit.
In my more serious moments, I wonder what Alexander Graham Bell and Sigmund Freud would have said about the erotic phenomenon that has become known as phone sex.
The subject of phone sex requires little introduction – it is simulated sex via telephone in which the goal is to sexually stimulate one or both of the participants and the use of voice is the only human contact it involves.
Firstly there are hundreds of commercial phone sex lines that one can call which cater to every taste and fetish. It’s an exceptionally lucrative industry and I can understand why. There’s always someone out there horny and stroking a rock hard erection while letting his mind wander in search of just the right fantasy to inspire a gut-wrenching, earth shattering orgasm.
Perhaps he’s alone and bored with the well-thumbed porn magazines and the same old video fuck scenes. Maybe he wants something different, something wild and kinky, or maybe he simply wants to connect with a willing open-minded partner who will participate in his fantasy while he gets his rocks off. An easy solution is to call a phone sex line and indulge in a few minutes of live facilitated masturbation.
I’ve not had much personal experience with any of these commercial phone sex lines, aside from having done research and written some erotic scripts for a few of the local recorded sex lines. However I do wonder about the authenticity of the fantasy sex line operators. Are they really attractive wanton wenches who masturbate to orgasm while talking dirty to their clients? Do they even get aroused, or are they simply bored working women of all shapes and sizes who file their nails while reading scripts and watching the clock tick over till the end of their shift?
Perhaps it doesn’t really matter since it is a fantasy, an illusion that one is buying when they dial into one of these lines, and as long as it provides the kind of gratification the client is seeking on his own terms, its money well spent.
I enjoy it with my man and here are some tips for you guys out there. Have some ideas and be open and clear in telling her exactly what you are in the mood for and what you will be requiring especially if you have some role play fantasy or specific scenario in mind. Remember it’s a phone call to your woman about sex talk and fantasy. It’s no time for her to play guessing games, to string you along, or for you to get shy or indecisive.
Again, this is the perfect way to have a carnal connection when you and your lover are apart and enables you to merge emotionally, share physical feelings and ultimately reach sexual release.
Many people simply add a little anticipation and spice to their love lives by discussing their fantasies and desires over the telephone and masturbating together.
Here I do speak from experience and can vouch for the fact that phone sex between people who care about each other or have a strong emotional connection is so much more than talking dirty or a few pants and moans on a phone. It is more like a dance of seduction with the mind and words are the music. Sometimes the music is hot and played with fire like a tango, evoking lust and wantonness and exploding in a climatic ending. The words set the tempo, are scintillating and lusty and can go something like this:
“I want you.”
“Mmm, you do? Tell me how much?”
“So much that I’m going to call you as soon as my next meeting is done.”
“Oooh, that sounds delicious. I can’t wait baby.”
“Uh-huh, me neither. Thinking about you already has me walking around here with a hard-on. Break out your toys; I’ll call you in 30 minutes.”
Click.
Ring.
“I’m alone.”
“You do know that waiting for you like this has made me so wet, don’t you?”
“And you have no idea how fucking hard I am. My cock is tight and full. I’m unzipping now. Are you naked?”
“Yeah I am, spread out on the bed with the curtains open.”
“Ohh you naughty girl! And what are you doing?”
“I’ve been touching my nipples, making them hard, running my fingers over my tummy…”
“And your pussy?”
“No, I wanted to wait for you, baby.”
“Mmmm, spread the lips open for me, slide a finger inside your cunt and play with your clit too.”
“Ooh I’m soaked. My pussy wants your cock so badly…”
“And I want to fuck you so hard. I want to push my cock all the way inside you and thrust deeply.”
“Ahhh God, Yesss! I’m fingering myself. Mmmm.”
“Fuck, I’m leaking precum. I’m smearing it over the tip now and stroking my cock up and down.”
“Oh God.”
“Do you have your toys there? All of them?
“Mmm yeah I do, with fresh batteries.”
“Good because I want a big thick one in your pussy and one in your tight little asshole as well. Slide them in for me baby but don’t turn them on yet.”
“Oooh my ass loves being opened. I’m pushing it in but I wish it was your cock. Arghhh, fuck! I’m so stretched baby with two vibrators in me. I wish you could see how my cunt is wrapped around this big black one and how hot it looks with my pussy lips gripping it.
“Oh God!” Let me hear, baby. Put the phone down there at your pussy and thrust it in and out of yourself. Let me hear how fucking juicy and wet you are…”
I think you get the general idea of hot lusty phone talk. What else can that lead to, but an explosive mind-blowing orgasm?
As with physical lovemaking, sometimes the tempo is more of a waltz; smooth and gliding, seductive and tender. It may go something like this:
“I want to kiss you deeply my baby and run my hands all over your naked flesh.”
“Mmm and I want to run my tongue over your chest, suck on your nipples and lick all the way down to your navel.”
“Ah you sound so sexy angel. I wish you could suck me now. I’d love your sweet lips pulling around my cock. Long deep, slow sucks…”
“I want you so much baby, I wish you were here inside me.”
“I am my darling. I am deep inside you and I want to hear you come hard, my love…”
Yes, agreed it’s masturbation, but there’s no doubt of the connection and the profound intimacy. It can be like making tender love or fucking with wild abandonment.
Phone sex can happen just about anywhere where people have some privacy, but the most important aspect of phone-sex is imagination. If you’ve never tried it before, you and your partner will need to allow yourselves entry into the world of intimate erotic conversation and fantasy together.
If you have absolutely no clue on how to get started, try imagining what you’ve always wanted to do with this person and describe it step by step or share your steamy desires.
Initially some people may feel awkward or tongue-tied and it’s best not to try and force yourself to say something vulgar or X-rated that feels or sounds contrived. Rather just chat as you normally would and ease into a more intimate exchange by saying something as simple as “I wish you were lying next to me.” Or you might want to remind him or her of an incredibly hot session you had together and how horny thinking about it has made you.
You could also explore sexual situations that you have yet to try together in reality. That’s bound to get the juices flowing both literally and mentally and you can go from there.
The way you use your voice and the things you utter to each other are triggers that spike and enhance the stimulation, so yes, you do have to be graphic or explicit. That’s just how it works. And you do need to be comfortable using words that usually turn someone on. When you fantasize and are getting off alone you don’t think of words like “penis” and “vagina.” You think in more vivid and salacious terms like “big hard cock,” or “tight pussy” or ” dripping wet cunt.” Don’t be afraid to say those words. You’ll be surprised at how liberating and how arousing it is for both of you. And it will add to the excitement and intensity of the experience if you can just kick back and let yourself go. Hot, dirty talk gets easier and comes more naturally once you’re relaxed and aroused. And there is nothing that beats hearing the inflections in the other person’s voice, the sound of their breathing changing, the little gasps and moans of pleasure as their excitement grows and their orgasm builds.
So, once she begins revealing that she imagines you treating her like a slut, pushing her up against a wall and slowly but forcefully licking and biting her everywhere until you finally thrust your cock inside her ass, or he reveals that he wants to blindfold you and eat your pussy until his face is wet, I think you’ll manage to find your sexual imagination lurking somewhere.
Discussing fantasies is often a huge turn on and are especially intimate and arousing for sharing during phone sex. If your own fantasies don’t come to mind in graphic detail, why not ask your partner what their fantasies are? Or if you really want to up the erotic ante and be adventurous, consider sharing your deepest, darkest secret fantasy, which by implication suggests that it’s possibly going to be a little over the top and very wild. It’s probably also not something you would ever do in reality but is great fantasy fodder for screaming, toe-curling orgasms.
Fantasies could entail pretending to break into her home, making her your sex slave and having forceful rough sex with her. During phone play a normally conservative lady can become a hot slutty bitch or a whip wielding dominatrix. A married father can be a raunchy bisexual stud enjoying a gang bang or a forty year old can be daddy’s bad little girl.
We all have hidden desires that we may be too reserved to talk directly about with a partner, and yet they really arouse us. With the phone as a go-between it can liberate you to open up mentally and feel comfortable to express verbally without fear of judgment. No matter what those fantasies are, you can explore them through the art of slow, seductive conversation, heavy breathing and grunts of pleasure while you touch and stroke yourself or get adventurous with your toys, in such a way that it lets the other person know that not only are you into it, but that it’s exciting you to the point of orgasm as well.
There are no boundaries as long as both of you enjoy the conversation and respect each other’s comfort zones. The intensity of the experience will depend on how much you are prepared to let go, how far you will allow your imagination to stray and of course how comfortable you are communicating with the person on the other side of the phone. I’ve had some really intense phone sex encounters where the combination of intimate talk together with the physical play has resulted in some of the most deeply satisfying climaxes and multiple orgasms I’ve ever had.
So, next time you’re thinking of that special someone, feeling horny and can’t be with them, remember that there’s usually a phone in every household, hotel, pocket or handbag and a fantasy in every mind. With a little privacy and imagination, you and your partner can enjoy an erotic encounter so vivid, that you can both feel it and taste it.
And you don’t have to wait for him, or her, to be away to try phone sex. Consider it as a new twist to spice up your sex life and to explore new ideas. Not only will it allow you a joyous excursion into a fantastic mind fuck, but whispering sweet nothings or purring sizzling somethings into the phone can let you get up close and personal at any time of the day or night. Plus, it will let your lover know that they are desired by you and even though you can’t be together right at that moment; there is no place that you’d rather be than in their arms and in their bed. Have fun and have an earth shattering orgasm for me, tell me about it.
I’ve been chatting with Gator tonight about relationships. It’s a great thing to be able to do that with your partner…talk with him about his relationship with someone else and mine with someone else. I don’t think someone who has never had that opportunity or that openness with a partner can truly appreciate the beauty of it.
There are limitations to both or relationships. I do not feel comfortable sharing what Gator thinks his limitations are with Kitten. That is a personal thing for him. And, while I’m going to share some of what I feel mine are with Tech, it will be difficult in a way. Kitten could read this. But when I chose to keep blogging, I chose to keep doing it the same way because I felt totally generalizing things would defeat the purpose of my blog.
Everyone knows that I would like to spend more one-on-one time with Tech. I said that many times at our last meet and greet when we were discussing why we are in a closed quad. For me, it’s just that I don’t get enough time with Tech as it is. I do not want to give what little I have up to pursue a relationship with someone else. Even if I could spend more time with a new relationship. I love Tech. He is where I want to ensure I have as much time as possible.
The limitation is that I do have time I can spend with him. He isn’t free to spend that time with me. Kitten doesn’t like being left alone. As his primary, he isn’t likely to do something often that she isn’t comfortable with. He makes the effort when I’ve let him know I’m feeling the squeeze more than normal. I do know he likes spending time with me. It’s just easier to spend time as a quad because no one gets left alone. But I find it difficult to stay connected without quality dyad time. (I need the same with Gator but we get that most of the time.) And I don’t want to have everything a group thing. The only thing that isn’t a group adventure any longer is sex. And while Kitten commented at the last meet and greet that I could have a threesome with Gator and Tech if I wanted (we were asked about that as well), in reality when is that likely to happen? If she isn’t comfortable being alone while I spend time with Tech only, is she really going to be ok with being alone while I spend time with both Gator and Tech? Especially with it being intentional?
I’ve had a reader pose the question to me if I really think Kitten is capable of an open relationship. I’ve thought about that since then and I’ve talked with Gator about it as well. I’m not sure she is comfortable with the type of relationship we have. First, she was the first one to want to close our relationship. I feel she is most comfortable with emotional monogamy. Swinging most likely is a different story. I think she would like to know that she has at least one of the guys to herself. I fear that is the root of some of her problems with them both. That she doesn’t feel important enough to either of them for her to be the only one for them. I feel that she would be most comfortable in a closed v relationship. Where she is the hinge and the arms are only involved romantically and sexually with her. She would feel very secure in having Tech and another relationship (male or female) all to herself.
I’m not saying she doesn’t want to have this relationship. I feel she does. I just believe her personality lends itself to that one type of poly/open relationship. And I’m not faulting her for that. I truly am not. We all have things we are comfortable with and things that we are not.
I need to do some thinking and then communicating with Tech. I long for more. More in our relationship. I do my best not to think of those things and be content, if not happy, with the way things are. But, how long will I be able to do that. I’m fairly certain that there will come a time that what I get from my relationship with Tech can not outweigh the things I am missing in my relationship with him. If that weren’t the case, I would not continue to have these needs and wants and longings. Gator understands this. That I need more. I wonder if I would have kept some blocks up to how deeply I love Tech if I had known that he and I would never be granted the same freedoms we are prepared to give.
I truly want Gator to be happy. No matter. That’s how we ended up on this path. I want his relationship with Kitten to be more fruitful and fulfilling than it is. I wish she felt the same need to have something special with just him instead of her wanting Tech and I to be a part of a date she has with Gator…whether the involvement we have is literal or she is calling while they are out or just telling us everything about what they do together. I feel each relationship deserves something that is just for that relationship. Kitten is always involving Tech and I in her dates with Gator and is always involving herself in the dates Tech and I may have together. Why is that? Does she just need to have us all? Is the quad relationship more important to her than anything else? Is she just more comfortable when the group is involved? When she isn’t “left out” of something? Me, I know that Gator would love something closer between them without things going clingy.
But, back to my problem. Is it more harmful/hurtful to stay with Tech as things are now, knowing that the future is uncertain, or to cut our losses now? I love this man. It breaks my heart to think of life without him. I love this man and it also breaks my heart to not be able to have the kind of relationship with him that I long for.
Is content enough? Should I not settle for content and hold out for happy?
After being caught red handed on news camera busy with 3 girls, Mr. Tiwari seems to have hit the jackpot in his final innings. In an unprecedented incident Mr. Tiwari has been contacted by head marketing Viyagra to be their global Brand Ambassador. When contacted, Mr. P.K. Lee the marketing head has confirmed that they have been trying to reach Mr. Tiwari from a long time. “He has got all the qualities which we want in our brand ambassador, his level of fitness and activism will boost the brand “. In a multimillion dollar deal Mr. Tiwari will be soon seen on TV and internet doing Brand endorsement of the much acclaimed product. There are rumors that Tiwari will also be helping the distribution and sales of the drug company in getting Viyaagra converted to over the counter drug using his novel network.
MTV has also finally announced their list of Youth icons today and Mr. Tiwari has been nominated from India for the same. In the competition Mr. Tiwari will be competing with likes of Hell Clinton, Tiger Hoods, Jamie Cameroon, John C Migraine and Prince Charlie. There is lot of anticipation regarding a tough fight between uncle Bell and Mr. Tiwari in the global media.
The increase of popularity of Tiwari Ji has also brought losses for few of the celebrities, Sachin has been impeached as the brand ambassador of Bhoost and Mr. Tiwari will be replacing him as the new brand ambassador. Bhoost has claimed that Mr. Tiwari has been using the energy drink from a long time which has made him so fit and Strong. So in a matter of days you might watch him saying “Bhoost is the secret of my Energy “.
well what do you think of the dirty whore? i guess her fans could be offended by me calling her that but shouldn’t be because she obviously PORTRAYS herself as such with all the drinking and fucking ugly drunk men and her caked on makeup and stupid blow job faces she makes constantly, and i haven’t even started on her voice, “catchy” aka not made by her “background” music while she wakes up and falls asleep in bathtubs with her crusty, torn, aborted fetus stained underwear. i was forced to watch these videos and am forced to hear this shitty music on the radio so just like everyone else who shakes their ass shamelessly to lyrics they can’t or don’t care to listen to or understand i refuse to let stupid ass sluts grab dudes dicks and give everyone who hears her shitty music ear aids… just can’t do it.
Like a ghost haunting the corridors of an old building, so my guilt haunts me. Like an lioness stalking her prey, waiting for the opportune moment to pounce, so my shame waits for me.
Nothing happens by chance. Nothing. So for whatever reason, God allowed me to run into a guy I used to know while taking care of an errand. One glace and his eyes which are literally like ice in color- a very pale blue- caused my heart to freeze. One glance and that old familiar guilt came rushing back. One glance and the pain of my past, my shame before God and my future mate, and the horror of who I was came like a flood gate bursting open.
All I could do was avert my eyes and pretend I didn’t know him and pray he didn’t recognize me. After all, I have changed a lot since I was 14. He was the first guy that I actually ever saw, though I had seen porn much earlier. He was the first and only guy I’ve almost kissed, (but I turned my head). It was on him that I mastered the technique of a hand job. I am disgusted with myself just thinking about it, but I am grateful for God’s restraining grace in my life back then. As much as I defiled myself and my future marriage bed, He never allowed me to go all the way…I was too afraid because of the things I had been taught in sex-ed and the influence a Christian teacher in school who begged us not to use drugs or have sex (even passing out abstinence cards for us to sign).
I am still repulsed by the things I actually did do, I tell myself often that that too was covered by the blood of Christ. But it is moments like the one I had today that send me spiraling into a sea of guilt…again. I’m realizing each day that until I deal with the guilt that still pains my soul, I will never be able to enjoy the true peace of fellowship with God.
Lord, help me to remember that Christ’s death is sufficient for all my sin-past, present, and future. Oh to grace how great a debtor!
From tiome to time the news, well political news, just fliggping boring and then there comes something that I just cannot resist…..
First…I will start with a joke……”How do nuns have sex?”……pause for thought……”they dress up like alter boys”…….
I know…I know…it was disgusting, tasteless, insensitive….but you gotts admit …damn funny!
Why would I tell a tasteless joke? Well, it seems that with all the bad press that the Catholic Church has gotten in the past couple of years….you would think that they could get a handle on the sex scandals…huh?
Reuters is reporting:
One of Pope Benedict’s ceremonial ushers and a member of an elite choir in St Peter’s Basilica have been implicated in a gay prostitution ring, in the latest sexual scandal to taint the Vatican.Ghinedu Ehiem, a Nigerian, was dismissed by the Vatican on Wednesday from the Giulia Choir after his name appeared in transcripts of police wiretaps, published by an Italian newspaper, in an unrelated Italian investigation.
Among four people arrested last month in the corruption probe was Angelo Balducci, a engineer who is a board member of Italy’s public works department and a construction consultant to the Vatican. Balducci was arrested on corruption charges and the allegatons of prostitution emerged only later.
Balducci is also a member of an elite group called “Gentlemen of His Holiness”, ushers who are called to serve in the Vatican’s Apostolic Palace on major occasions such as when the pope receives heads of state or presides at big events.
“Gentlemen of His Holiness””carried the coffin of the late Pope John Paul at his funeral in 2005.
A police document prepared for magistrates and published in part by La Repubblica said Balducci was in contact with Ehiem and an Italian who were part of what the police called “an organised network … to abet male prostitution”.
Apart from being a “Gentleman of His Holiness”, Balducci is listed in the Vatican’s directory as a consultant to a Vatican department that deals with missions and had close contacts with the Vatican during planning for events for the year 2000, when millions of pilgrims came to Rome for a special Holy Year.
Yeah…I bet it has “special”……
SIDE NOTE: It is official! The dinosaurs were killed by a meteor striking the earth…..okay..I missed something…I thought that was already settled….I guess I was mistaken….
into the face of the female deputy watching over her.
I’ve been chatting with Gator tonight about relationships. It’s a great thing to be able to do that with your partner…talk with him about his relationship with someone else and mine with someone else. I don’t think someone who has never had that opportunity or that openness with a partner can truly appreciate the beauty of it.