This just happened.

After L fucked me in the butt, I wasn’t sure how she felt about it. Maybe she thought less of me? Maybe she thought there was something wrong with me for asking for it? Later that evening I asked if it was weird for her. She shrugged:  “I know I like it,” she said. “Why wouldn’t you?”

But it took us a while to get there. This is something that’s been going on in my head for a couple of years now. For a long time I’ve wondered what sex is like for a woman; it has to be so different. I want to know what it’s like to be penetrated, stabbed. I don’t want to be a woman. But I want to know what it’s like to be taken. I don’t want to be with a man.

I do want to be pushed around and taken and used, and I want to feel something sliding up inside my ass. Sometimes the imagining of that is really strong, and it makes me think about L strapping on a dildo and plowing me till I beg for mercy.

The idea fills me with pleasure and the fact that I want it fills me with shame. I’m pretty sure the shame is part of what makes it irresistible to me, something that creeps into my thoughts when I’m half awake, when I think about L, especially when she’s been gone a long time.

* * *

Part of the appeal is just our ongoing search for cheap, transgressive thrills. We talk about all of it, but much of it we haven’t gotten to, and may not. We’re down with the spanking and whipping, the blindfolding, the tit-slapping, even the cock-slapping, face fucking, and she even pissed all over me in the shower once. It was filthy and awesome.

We talked about having her fuck me in the butt, but the appeal wasn’t immediate to her. I showed her a video called, “Greek Wife Pegs Husband.” Her voice got quiet. “Oh Theo, I don’t know if I could do that…”

So I didn’t press her.

We don‘t want to push the weird stuff so far that we can’t enjoy a simple, tender missionary fuck as the staple of our diet.

* * *

While we went about our lives I went online and bought her a couple of silicone dicks and a pretty, quite feminine harness from Velvet Nest, thinking it might overcome some of her reservations:


But they lay there unused in the locked drawer where we keep our toys. I know she’d seen them, but she didn’t take the bait for a long time. She would enthusiastically shove things in my ass on occasion, pushing my face into the pillow and calling me degrading names while she humped my legs and back, and flipped me over to grind into my face. That was pretty nice.

* * *

But she didn’t give me the total ass-fucking I’d been wishing for until one night when I was being a bit mean to her — as always with her clear consent, I need to make clear.

I had straddled her shoulders and put my cock against her lips. “Open,” I said, but her sweet, soft lips remained closed and her eyes turned up to me, wide for a second before they closed. She wanted something.

I gave her face a light tap with my fingertips, and her eyes opened for another second and looked up at me defiantly before they closed again. “Open,” I repeated and slapped her face again, maybe just a bit more sharply, and the sweet, soft lips smiled faintly before they parted. That’s all she wanted.

My dick slid in over her tongue and she licked and sucked while I pumped slowly into her mouth. It was dirty, fucking that nice lady in the face like that.

She let me abuse her for a minute, and then she stopped pleasuring me and pushed me away. “I’m ready to fuck you,” she said, and there was a look in her eye that I couldn’t read.

Her hand made a dismissive motion toward the locked drawer. “Go get the strap-on.”

I fetched the harness and a curved, black silicone shaft with a swelling at the tip–shaped right for pushing into my ass, but otherwise not very realistic, what the website called “non-representational.”

I pulled the Velvet Nest up her legs and cinched it snugly around her hips, and positioned the dildo, snapping the Velcro tabs to hold it in place.

Her fingers rested on the black silicone shaft for a second. She said, “I think you should suck my cock.”

Oh my god.

“Is that what you want?” That wasn’t part of my fantasy, but I would have done it for her if she insisted. I would have done anything to convince her to take me the way I wanted. Strange compulsion, I know, but it’s powerful.

Instead of taking it in that direction, she pushed me over on my stomach and straddled me. She moved my hands up to grasp the headboard, and said, “Keep them there.” In a few seconds I felt the lube trickling into the crack of my ass and then her fingers spreading the gel between my cheeks, around my rectum, probing inside and greasing me up there.

It felt like things went darker as I regressed to a passive, open thing, ready to receive, ready to be taken. I gripped the headboard and waited, pleasuring at her fingers and the tip of the cock pushing at me, moving inside. This was happening after all the times I’d imagined it, and a strange, dark joy filled me as the widened head pushed the lubricated sphincter aside and made its way inside a bit and then stopped.

She said, “That’s as far as it goes.”

“No it’s not.” I said. I knew from reading, and from pumping her ass, that there is a second sphincter that wants to be gently persuaded to relax and let the intruder in. “Take it easy and push.” I drew a deep breath and tried to relax into the cool dark place where everything is permitted, where everything is possible.

She worked at me and I felt myself open and her cock pushed through; it hurt only a bit as my ass resisted before opening and letting her all the way inside, and then I was pegged. It was sweet, like I’d never felt before, some new combination of being stuffed, violated, owned, along with the plain physical joy in the itch that had never been scratched before. All I could say was, “That’s it, baby.”

Then she started to fuck me slowly, stroking and scratching the nerves just inside my asshole that had never been touched like that. “Fuck me,” I said quietly, reveling in the violation, the possession, the pure humiliation of taking it up my ass. It was all good. “Fuck me…”

My ass stretched for her as she pumped harder, taking longer strokes. I relaxed and took it, and she muttered filthy things behind me while she drilled me, breathing out hard every time she let her hips fall back, penetrating me like a piece of meat. Like a bitch, we both thought, although no one said it.

She slid deep inside and then stopped. Taking my hips from behind, she rolled back so we were on our sides, and then she eased back and slowly pushed the cock deep inside again.

Then she said something that pushed me down into the cool dark place, all the way under, hard: “What if you jack off,” she said, “while I’m fucking you?”

Oh my god.

She knows the 12-year-old inside me wants to jack off and imagine this. But to give me permission to close my eyes and go off into porn land while she’s there, while she’s actually thrusting into my ass and my head is exploding with a crazy combination of pleasure and shame and absolution for the shameful…

I couldn’t say anything.

My fingers circled my cock, surprisingly hard considering that my ass was being stretched and pounded. She put her fingers over my face, cutting off my breath for a few seconds as she fucked me and I slid my curled fingers slowly up and down my weeping cock, smearing the oily pre-come along the shaft. Her fingers cupped my chest, pulled hard at my nipple and she bit my earlobe and slammed into me hard.

“Oh fuck me” was all I knew to say, and she did fuck me and bite me and I came hard, pumping into my fist as her breath labored and she pumped into my ass.

“Oh fuck,” I told her and she could see the puddle of creamy come collecting on the sheet in front of me. She slowed and stopped. I think she kissed my shoulder, and she pulled the silicone dick out of my ass slowly, cooing at me while I lay there, kind of broken.

Read Theo and L’s entire story, Age of Discovery, in paperback and Kindle versions, and epub format for Nook and other readers.
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Posted in Erotica, Memoir, Anal, Masturbation, Pegging | Tagged , , , , , | 15 Comments

Never Have I Ever

Caitlyn has started an internet game she’s calling “Never Have I Ever”.   From her responses here, you’ll see that she now has excellent data on our unfulfilled sexual fantasies, and I assume she’s working on her project plan for ensuring that all of our goals are met.  Here was my entry:

I want to make love to my baby in a semi-public place, something involving water – the ocean, a lake, a swimming pool.  Here’s one scenario that would do it for me.  We’re going to Mexico next summer, and we’re staying in a beachside town. One night I want us to load up on tequila and cerveza like it’s high school, and wander down to the Pacific in our tourist outfits, the shorts and flowered shirts and straw hats.  I want us to stop and make out in the moonlight for about 15 minutes before I start peeling her clothes off.  She’ll probably resist and slap my hand away, but she’ll be drunk enough that when I pull her hand down to the bulge in my shorts she’ll rub it for a minute and then open my fly and squeeze my dick one time before stripping my clothes off while I remove her shorts, shirt, and what–no bra, no panties?  We’ll run out into the ocean, then swim out about chest high where we’ll make out some more and I’ll lick salt water off her nipples and she’ll wrap her legs around my waist and ease herself onto me slowly while the sound of guitars floats across the water to where I’m drowning in the pleasure of the Cabo Corientes moon reflected in her eyes.


Read Theo and L’s entire story, Age of Discovery, in paperback and Kindle versions, and epub format for Nook and other readers.
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Posted in Erotica, Memoir, Sex | 8 Comments

I’ll see you in my wet dreams

This morning, with the knowledge that this was the last time for a while, when we could have gone all Romeo-and-Juliet about it, I fucked L’s mouth slowly while she tweaked her nipples and no telling what else she was doing to herself behind me.  I tried to make it last, and I talked to her in a husky voice while I stroked into the wet pleasure beyond her lips. When her cheeks hollowed, I said, “I love it when you suck me.” When I felt the wet flesh of her tongue on the tender place under the head of my cock, I said, “Your tongue is sweet, baby.”

Some country band I can’t recall had a song in the 90s called “Making Memories.”  I wonder if this is what they meant.

Maaaaaaakin’ mem’reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees…

* * *

Before all this, the first thing that happened today was that I woke up across the bed from L and felt lonesome; I rolled up against her and when my hand draped over her waist, I touched the soft, luxuriant fur and stroked softly for a second before I went “Ah!” and my hand recoiled, and L popped awake and sat up suddenly.

“Oh,” she said sleepily, realizing the dog had snuggled up next to the other side of her.  She knows I love her dog, but don’t love spooning with it. She got up and pulled the Irish setter by her collar off the bed and out into the hall, and shut the door, saying, “You stay quiet now, honey.” She meant the dog, not me.

She got in under the sheet and pressed her ass against my morning semi-wood and twitched a couple of times so I was nestled in against her sweet place.  She was wearing one of my t-shirts and nothing else; my dick started working its way out of my boxers and closer to the sweet object of its affection.

I had nothing to do with it; I was barely awake.

We lay for a while talking about the next couple of months, unconsciously moving ever so slightly against each other as we woke up, my hand tucked around her waist and belly.

“It’s going to be a while,” I said.  We’d spent most of the summer together, camping, hiking, wasting countless evenings bingeing on Breaking Bad, eating breakfast together while we read the Times, walking her dog, showering alone and together, just like the couple we knew we were. But now we both had heavy schedules in our respective home towns, and it was about to get difficult.

“Maybe not til Thanksgiving?” she said quietly.

It didn’t seem possible. Definitely not desirable.

“We’ll get a weekend somewhere before that,” I said.

She suggested a couple of cities halfway between us. “Or one of can get a long weekend maybe and fly over.”

So maybe it wasn’t as bad as Thanksgiving, but there was some desert ahead for us.

* * *

Before I took the pleasure of L’s mouth, I’d made her come once with my hand, sucking her nipples in turn, chewing at the flesh of her neck and shoulder, chasing the slippery clit with my finger, listening for her shudders and sighs to guide my fingertip in circles and strokes, energizing the nerves, teasing out the moistness bathing her clit, slipping one finger then two inside her glossy slit, touching the g-spot with hooked fingers while I thumbed the slippery button.

After she’d shuddered and panted and squealed into an orgasm, I kissed her and she said softly, “I hope you’re not going to make me suck your dick now.”

So what else could I do?

I straddled her face and pulled my cock through the slit in my boxers; I held the swollen tip to her lips and stroked myself two or three times, taking us both across the line into masturbation and porn-fantasy before I pushed inside her soft mouth. Her hands went to grasp my ass cheeks and pull me to her. Her lips made a tight O for me, caressing the tender skin of my cock as she guided me deeper inside her. She sucked and licked, and I reached behind her head to push myself all the way in, touching the back of her throat and circling my pubic hair tight against her lips for a second before I pulled back and let her recover from the gag reflex before her lips wrapped around the head again and sucked it like a strawberry. I was in heaven watching the sweet woman I love gobbling my cock hungrily and happily.

She let my dick slip out of her mouth took one of my balls between her lips. I was glad I’d shaved; she rolled her tongue over both nuts and sucked each of them gently before craning to take my cock back between her lips, taking me inside again. Her hands left me, letting me use her mouth like a cunt while she went to work on herself. I could feel one of her hands tweaking a nipple while I abused her mouth, and the other hand moving lower.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” I said. I thought about pulling out so I could plunge into the soft muscular wetness of her cunt but I loved this too much and I could feel the sperm ready to shoot, and one of her fingers brushed against my asshole and the feeling was there, too strong to stop and I came in waves and she guzzled the sperm as it shot out of me.

Sweet, sweet girl.

I lay next to her, ready for a break, but she said, “Get something to stick in me,” and I knew it was time for payback.

I rolled out bed and headed for the toy drawer. “Something that vibrates,” I suggested.

“You’d better get the clips,” she added.

She was feeling nasty.

I selected an item that had two vibrating thumb-sized eggs attached to a controller, and the pair of clamps she had ordered–she wanted me to hurt her tits in order to make the tears flow along with her cunt, to sweeten her lust with humiliation. We had become such explorers together and she knew what she liked.

And then I grabbed a bottle of grape seed oil and the standby, the Hitachi.

That was enough.

I plugged in the Hitachi and placed it on the bed next to L.

She adjusted the pillow, closed her eyes and put her hands behind her head as I climbed up next to her. I kissed her lips, then each nipple. I sucked lightly at the ruddy point before I attached the clip and listened for her heavy intake of breath as the sharp pain traveled up from her tit to her brain, which I knew would be confused by the tenderness and abuse, and had no other option but to turn on the faucets below. I hurt one pretty nipple like that, then the other. I knew her desire only increased when I pulled on the chain slowly, stretching pain from her tits until she cried out.

Moving down her belly from her tits, I kissed her mound softly; she’d trimmed the hair closely and the hairs bristled against my lips. I tasted her slick, swollen lips and ran my tongue up to stroke the hood and the pink bump, intoxicating myself with her fragrance and taste before I pushed the silver egg inside her; it went into the wet hole easily, her puffy lips closing over the thin wire trailing out.  I turned the dial on the control. The vibe purred and L purred. And sighed.

I reached for the grape seed oil and coated the other vibe carefully and pushed it against her anus. The vibrations played against the tight hole, but I couldn’t make it slide inside. I teased her with a lubricated finger, circling the tender, puckered flesh until she relaxed and my finger slid inside her ass a bit. But she still didn’t open when I tried to push the silver bullet inside, so she reached down herself and in a moment made the slick, shiny egg disappear into her ass.

“I’ve got it,” she said.

She spread her legs wide and shameless, undulating against the tiny vibes inside her tender places. “It’s so…” She didn’t finish the sentence.

While the vibrations tickled her inside, I licked her pussy ravenously, indulging myself in the taste of her nectar, the taste that I knew I’d miss over the next weeks.

I found the Hitachi in the sheets and thumbed it on, bringing it slowly up the inside of her thigh.

“Oh my goodness,” she said. “I’m going to get to come again,” and when the Hitachi played against her lips she cooed happily. “Nice.”

I brought the vibrator to rest on her mound. She said, “Ah,” sharply and I let the round head rest against her pubic bone for a few seconds.

“Here,” I said. “You want to drive?”

She took shaft and guided the vibrations where she wanted them, near the clit, then on the clit, then away and back.

I took the clip from one of her nipples as gently as I could and she chirped a protest at the pain released when the clip came free. She went back to moving the vibrator over her mound while I kissed and gently licked to comfort her nipple before I released her other tit and she cried out suddenly, panting and huffing as the abuse, foreplay, tongue and vibrators released an orgasm that went on and on until finally she tossed the Hitachi aside and we took the tiny vibes from her two holes, and we wrapped in an embrace while her breath went back to normal.

After a few minutes I felt her lips against my ear.

“That’s a good sendoff,” she said.


Read Theo and L’s entire story, Age of Discovery, in paperback and kindle versions, and epub format for Nook and other readers.
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Posted in Erotica, Memoir, Oral, relationship, Sex, Sex toys | 10 Comments

Dirty freak

L and I found ourselves that night in the historic district of Charleston, South Carolina, in a classic 1890s mansion that had been converted to hotel rooms.  We’d driven a U-Haul full of family heirlooms from Nashville that day, and we planned to cart them all the way to Miami the next.  We were beat, and before we lay down to pass out I went across the street for Chinese take-out and stopped at Walgreen’s for a couple of things.  When I got back, L was in bed with the comforter pulled up just below her breasts, which were lightly draped in a white, lacey slip.  I ripped the paper bag open and spread it over the bed as a placemat while we ate, and after we’d polished off our lo mein I cleared away the supper trash and asked, “How about a massage to put you to sleep?  I stopped at Walgreen’s and bought massage oil.”

L likes massages, and she rolled over and rested her head on crossed forearms while I rubbed oil into my hands.

I pulled down the straps of the nightgown and started out pretty wholesomely, working the oil into her shoulders, neck, arms. “Nice…” she purred, and I continued to knead her in those places before I pushed the bottom of her nightgown up and away and moved down to press fingers against the spaces around her spine and between her ribs, then to squeeze the flesh around her waist, and finally to cup the round gluteus muscles, both of them, and to work my oiled fingers into the backs and sides of her thighs before moving back up to her ass.

When I got there I could not refrain from indulging my fingers along the slick crack. It wasn’t even a conscious choice when I rubbed oil into the valley there, lubricating her asshole and probing with a finger. It had not been my intention, but the desire to take her ass overwhelmed my more sedate plans for a quiet massage before rolling and falling asleep.

No doubt L sensed the shift in my plans from my fingers’ increasingly unreserved exploration of her asshole, and she seemed to settle in as I climbed up over her and let her feel my erection hovering, sliding with desire along the oiled cleft behind her.

I could feel her breathing deeply as she tried to make herself relaxed and available for the tender violation but it wasn’t easy getting inside; her ass naturally repelled anything from the outside, and while we’d fucked this way before, I hadn’t been able to penetrate her the last time we’d tried. It was fine–we still got off together and laughed at the failure, and that time she’d suggested, “You need to oil yourself up, even more than me.”

So this time I poured a generous pool of oil into my palm and salved it over my hard dick, polishing the bone just briefly to leave a thick layer of oil. Her hand had moved beneath her to cup one breast, to bring out the lust inside her as I put the head next to her ass and slid up and down the crack before I attempted to go inside. When I pushed, her ass did the normal thing and repelled me. L rearranged her hips, pushing back against my dick, and still the tight hole held itself shut like the Church Lady’s firmly pursed lips. I positioned myself over her and gripped both hips and pushed and then she opened for me and suddenly I was there; a couple of inches slid inside, and I said, “Ohhhh,” and gently pulled back, then pushed in slowly, a bit deeper than before.

“I’m inside you, baby,” I said with pleasure. “Is this okay?”

“Uh-huh.” Her hand left off tweaking her nipple and snaked down to disappear underneath her, lower down. She licked her lips, and I commenced fucking her asshole slowly, feeling the tight rectal muscles grip my cock like a fist while I penetrated her and her mouth opened; I reveled greedily in her darkest places, feeling the pleasure build as I slid into the firm, slippery hole in her, stroking against the dense, slick walls inside, listening to her harsh breaths as she held herself open for me while her finger flicked at her clit, and then I was overwhelmed and I squirted up inside her, inside where I didn’t belong but she let me in anyway. I stroked softly into her ass until my cock went too flaccid to go on; I kissed the back of her neck and shoulder, and breathed, “sweet baby,” and collapsed next to her.

“Sweet baby” was the closest I could get to words for the woman whose mystique and beauty overwhelm me every time I see her, whose kindness, spiritual depth, and sense of humor make me smile, yet who willingly steps into the dark woods with me, invites me to defile her private places for the sheer joy and adventure of it. Words can’t describe the gift of her at times like this.

“That was a surprise,” she said, as we both caught our breath.

“I really just planned on the massage,” I said. “But when I got down there I kind of lost my head. Was it okay?”

She touched my cheek. “I liked it. I didn’t want us to have to give that up. But I was tired — if you’d asked ahead of time, I don’t know if I would have gone for it or not.”

“But it turned out okay for you?”

“You came in my butt, you dirty freak.” But she was already rolling over and parting her legs. “I think you need to wash up.”

I got up for the bathroom, and she called after me, “At least your hands.”

I stepped into the shower and washed the stink from my hands and limp dick, and on the way back to bed I reached into the shopping bag and took out the other item I’d bought at Walgreen’s, a four-inch vibrator shaped like a fat cigar with a button on one end to control the vibe intensity.

“Ooh, what’s this?” she asked, and I let her turn it over in her hand before I took it back and lay next to her. I touched the vibrating bullet to her lips to make her smile, then to her nipple, and then trailed it down her ribs, hovering around her hipbone for a few seconds before rolling it across her mound, making her twitch. I let the bullet glide up and down the arch over her clit and her legs moved apart. My finger strayed downward to find her lips swollen and slick, so I rested the vibrator there and let it hum against her momentarily before sliding it into her and letting her natural muscle tone push it back out; then in again and out; in and out; and then I slid it inside her slick hole, pushing it deep with one finger, and once inside, it stayed, vibrating against the tissue there while I rubbed her mound and clit firmly for a minute before I pulled back and slapped her mound. She made a sound and I popped her again, then again, beating her softly on the outside while the vibrator hummed from the inside. I bent to take her pointed nipple between my lips to suck, then between my teeth to bite until she squealed. Both of our fingertips explored the outside of her pussy; my lips and teeth enjoyed one nipple while her free hand pinched and pulled at the other. When she came her pelvis rose from the bed and a strangled sound rose from her throat. We made the orgasm last as long as we could, biting and stroking her until her panting and cursing were enough for her, and we both lay back, breathing deeply.

I kissed her arm, her breast, her cheek, and after a minute I reached to retrieve the vibrator, still humming along in there. I couldn’t tease the thing out of her.

“Is it still inside me?” She laughed.

I fished, but the thing was too slippery to allow a finger hold, and she had to reach in and pinch it out herself. She clicked the button to stop the vibration and handed it to me and I carried it off to rinse and put back in the Walgreen’s bag where I’d found it.

“You are an exceptional woman,” I said as I fell back next to her and curled up into the spooning position, one arm crooked under my head and the other draped over her waist.

“You’re a dirty freak,” she said.

“Are you upset about it?”

“Your dick is a bad citizen,” she said. Her ass tucked back and wriggled toward me, allowing my cock to nestle in peacefully where it had just been such a bad citizen.

“Bad dick,” I said.

“Very bad dick,” she agreed. “And for that you have to buy me breakfast.”

About then we were asleep.

* * *

Read Theo and L’s entire story, Age of Discovery, in paperback and Kindle versions, and epub format for Nook and other readers.
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Posted in Anal, Erotica, Memoir, Sex, Sex toys | 12 Comments

Blog tour

One of my favorite writers, Elene Salinger, invited me to spill my secrets on a blog tour, which involves answering four questions and passing the honor along to three other writers.

I humbly accept the invitation, although I fear I don’t have many useful tips.  Nevertheless, it must be of some value to admit that the answers I have are less than grand:

1. What am I working on at the moment?
I have been working for years on a rather long historical novel based on my grandparents’ assimilation into the wine-growing culture of northern California.  In addition, I am working very slowly on Part 2 of Age of Discovery.

2. How does my work differ from others of its genre?
I try to tell the truth, regardless of genre.  I like to think that Age of Discovery, which probably falls into the genre of “erotic romance,” is filthier than most Erotic Romance, and more deeply felt as well.

3. Why do I write what I do?
I write to give life to my dreams, and to preserve certain sweet moments while they’re fresh in my memory.

4. How does my writing process work?
When I have the luxury of long stretches of time to work, I write first thing in the morning before I’ve had time to think about anything else.  Then I revise as time allows.  Usually, though, I write whenever I have a few uninterrupted minutes, which is why I have to write short pieces of 1-3000 words; that’s all I can juggle in my mid-term memory before I forget what they were about.

* * *

I’d like to invite Hyacinth Jones,  Eidya, and Maggie Carpenter to participate.  No one will hate you if you decline.

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Thinking about you

As I waited for L at the airport, I was thinking about our text exchange the previous day.

text msg

And that was about as randy as it got, because we know the NSA is watching us every minute.

I’d seen L once in the past three months; it had been torture, but we were meeting in Memphis to stay with two of my oldest friends, Greg and Maura. They’ve been my friends since college; they spent a lot of time with me and my ex-wife; they’d met L once and liked her; they invited us to spend the weekend in their garage apartment while they took us to some fancy boatshow on the Mississippi and possibly Graceland if we were so inclined.

When L came out of the airport and climbed into the rental car, we kissed and smiled briefly, but there were cars behind me and we were shy again because it had been so long, so we passed the drive in idle chit-chat until we got to the house and Greg and Maura greeted us with hugs at the door.

They fed us and broke out the wine, of which we all partook in much smaller quantities than in the day.

L and Maura praised each other’s hairstyles; Greg and I ranted a bit about something that happened that week in the news. These were the kind of friends that if I don’t see them for years, it still feels like I saw them yesterday, and it makes me happy that L falls right in with them.

They marveled at our ability to keep up a long-distance relationship, and L admitted how little we’d been in contact lately. Maura’s eyebrow raised and she looked from one of us to the other. “My goodness,” she said with no further comment.

Greg noticed that L wasn’t drinking her wine, which was because L basically doesn’t drink, but he thought the wine wasn’t to her liking. “You know there’s all kinds of reds and whites in the kitchen,” he said. “Help yourselves.”

“Maybe I’ll look,” she said, and I chimed in, “Let me see what the selection is,” and followed L into the kitchen and as soon as we were out of Greg and Maura’s sight, I pushed L against the counter and pressed against her.

“Yeah, it’s been too long,” I said.  She glanced at the doorway and smiled up at me.  I kissed her deeply, my hand moving to cup her breast through the tank top.  I rubbed her tit while we kissed and we both felt my cock hardening between us.  “Way too long,” I said, and pulled back and watched her eyes as I found her hand and placed it over my bulge.  She squeezed and rubbed me softly for a moment. “I want this,” she said, and I replied, “You know what I want,” just as our spider-senses told us Maura was entering the kitchen and we parted quickly and I started futzing with a corkscrew.

“We have beer, too, if you don’t feel like wine,” she said.

“Wine’s good.”

Maura filled her wine glass and gave us a sly look and shook her head. “You two crazy kids,” she said on her way out.

The four of us talked for hours about crazy things in the past, hopeful things in the future, and finally I said, “Man I’m beat.  Was a long flight.”

“Is it time for bed?” Maura said with a quiet smile on her face.

“Yeah, I’m rarely up at midnight anymore,” I said.  “I’m getting sooooo old.”

Everybody laughed, and we exchanged pleasantries and hugs, and L and I went out the back door and along the dark walk to the garage apartment.  I stopped her at the bottom of the stairs and held her for another kiss.  My hand slid softly down her neck to the small of her back and came to rest lightly on the globe of her marvelous ass. “Jesus Christ I missed you,” I said, and she said, “Me too,” kissed the corner of my mouth, took my hand, and started up the stairs.

Inside, we took a moment to look around. I found matches and lit a candle and L turned out the light. I looked her up and down shamelessly– the form of her hips and cunt outlined in the jeans, the curve of her breasts, the soft lips that I wanted to kiss and bite and push my dick into.  I was in a frenzy inside, but I could barely move.

L saw the expression in my eyes, and smiled, and pushed me gently back toward the bed. “I’m going to do something for you first,” she said. I lay back propped on my elbows and L knelt at the side of the bed and pressed her lips against the growing mound in my jeans over my dick. Silently and slowly like a performance, she loosened the belt, popped the button, and opened the fly. I was hard by the time her hand snaked inside to caress my cock for a moment before she pushed it through the opening of my boxers. Her eyes smiled up at me and her lips parted and she took me into her mouth and the wet pink skin inside sent happy thrills into my nervous system.  She sucked and licked and slid her lips slowly up and down the shaft.

“Angel,” I told her.

After a minute I said, “I don’t want to come yet.”  I pulled her up toward me and took a breath to change the pace. “I want to enjoy your body some first.” I started as slowly as I was able, letting my fingers trail the tender skin at the back of her arm. She reached for a pillow to pull under her head, closed her eyes and rested while my fingertips reacquainted themselves with the contours of her flesh. I touched her side, tracing her ribcage softly through her shirt. I touched her belly and hips, delaying as long as I could before reaching to barely touch the softness of her breast, then to cup, then to rub my thumb against the nipple through the shirt and bra, and when the nipple stood up firmly, to squeeze hard to the point of pain so she drew in her breath sharply before I released her and moved lower.

I am so in love with L’s body and it had been so long since I had touched or tasted her that it was like I was in a trance as my fingers took in the rough denim stretched over her thighs, slid around to the back and followed the seam into the crack of her ass and then down between the back of her legs to the start of her cunt.

“I really want this,” I said.

I felt the line of her jeans at her hip and touched the soft skin right above, and bent to kiss her there, to taste her skin, to take the fatty flesh between my teeth for a moment before I moved back to kiss her on the lips while my hand felt the flat of her belly under the jeans and went to cup her cunt and squeeze. She ground up into my palm and returned my kiss more firmly.

“I’ve got to see you,” I said, and pulled up at her tank top.  She helped it off and tossed it to the floor, and I took in the vision of her breasts in the sweet low-cut bra, then touched the pushed-up mounds and the valley between before I bent to kiss each mound, to taste, to revel in the pleasure before reaching behind to unsnap the bra so I could kiss her dark nipples and suck for long enough to feel her hips moving slowly with lust.

I took in a deep breath and rubbed her cunt again for a moment and began to finally lose patience.  I got the jeans open and we worked them off her and I bent to kiss her mound through her panties, to savor her musky, lust-filled aroma while I nibbled at the soft flesh and bit through the cloth where her clitoris was, and pulled the panties off so I could push my tongue inside her, touch the soft pink flesh, taste her fluid, listen to the soft sounds emitting from her lips as she came close to orgasm, then retreated, then swelled closer again.

I love to make L come, and when she came this time she panted almost like laughter, resting her hand on my head and moved her mound in circles against my lips, teeth and tongue.

I climbed up next to her, and without wiping my face I kissed her and she kissed me back, hungrily, sucking at my tongue and lips. My dick slid easily into her wet cunt.  I pulled her knee up and fucked into her, trying to restrain myself at first, piercing her slowly then pulling back, then slowly again. For as long as I could keep that pace.

I put my hand on her breast, flicking her pointed nipple with my thumb. Her hands went to my chest and touched my nipples before she squeezed them hard; when she heard me cry out, her fingertips went to stroke the skin gently.

It was more than I could take. I pushed myself up on locked arms and jammed my dick into her hard.  She grunted in surprise, and I slammed into her again. “Oh yeah,” she said, starting to smile. I grinned down at her while I stabbed into her again and again. I fucked her like that for the 2 minutes that feels like an hour, and she came again, purring and muttering something, and then I came, shooting my love inside her.

white* * *

In the morning we had a choice between French toast and buckwheat pancakes.  It was a hard choice but we went with the buckwheat.

Greg filled us in with details on the boat show while we carbed up on pancakes, butter, and syrup. We decided to take a pass on Graceland.

Maura finished messing around in the kitchen, and sat down with us. She looked from me to L and back, and smiled. “Well,” she said happily. “Did everyone sleep well?” She winked at me or L, or both.

“Like a top, Maura,” I said. “Like a fucking top.”


Read Theo and L’s entire story, Age of Discovery, in paperback and Kindle versions, and epub format for Nook and other readers.
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Posted in Erotica, Memoir, Oral, Sex | 19 Comments

Driving to work

Driving to work this morning I could almost feel L’s arms around my neck as my hardness slipped into her wetness. I remembered her head ducking under the sheet to suck me like a hungry schoolgirl. I thought about her taste and the next time she’ll wait quietly, poised to let me enter her from behind, guiding me inside with soft fingers. I felt an erection growing through the stoplights and lane changes, and I had to tuck it away as I got out of the car and shouldered my laptop bag to go upstairs and try not to think about her sweet flesh against me while I worked on my spreadsheets and macros and conducted a joint application design session with a roomful of people who were not attractive in the least.

I keep reminding myself that this is all good; I might never have started up with her; I could be having mornings like this, without the expectation.

Two or three weeks to go now.

Posted in Erotica, Memoir | 15 Comments

eLusting again

e[lust] #56

Photo courtesy of Understanding Flutterby

Welcome to e[lust] – The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at e[lust]. Want to be included in e[lust] #57? Start with the rules, come back April 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

Trick of the Light

What Does Porn Lead To

The Posh Life of a Sex Toy Reviewer?

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Eleven Quarters

Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Sadists

~ Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*

All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Erotic Fiction

The Watchman Short Story: Tucked Away Property’s Progress Glass Houses Proud and Prejudged You’ll Do…. Now Step Closer. Pet Ballerina Superotica Valentine – Day 7 Get In Me, Daddy White Gloves


Posting a photo a day! How to Handle Your Junk in Public My first trick on a corner Mid Morning Musings ~ The Catharsis of Pain Francesca Woodman Inspired Self Portraits Eve’s Quandary – Blogging Between Fig Leaves What I Be

Sex News,Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Why 3 out of 4 young women don’t masturbate An Open Letter To Sex Toy Manufacturers Daily Photo – Day 1: Full Disclosure

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

Fantasies, deep and dark Fun with ropes Where we started from Kink from a humbler perspective To Err Is Human, To Punish May be Advisable Reader Q&A: How does a sub say ‘no’? Finding Balance

Erotic Non-Fiction

Suspended Sister, Oh Sister My First Trick This one’s for you Angela’s orgasm His Rope Show Finger Banging With Daddy Feeding Submission Valentine’s Day Diary Balance at the Boat Launch Rope, Rhino Cock, and a Balancing Act Exquisite

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Monogamous, Kinky Couple-Friends As Lust Fades A discussion with Mom When Did You Realize You Were Dominant? How to Fake an Orgasm How To Increase Your Libido Without Cialis

Writing About Writing

Talking Dirty Fiction! Thank You!


I’m Willing To Earn The Right Bad habits


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  2 Responses to “e[lust] #56”

    1. Hi, I’m having trouble clicking in Sex News section. All of the links go to the last of the three posts; did something go wrong with the code?

      Sex News,Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor Why 3 out of 4 young women don’t masturbate An Open Letter To Sex Toy Manufacturers Daily Photo – Day 1: Full Disclosure

      P.S. I’m so honoured to be a featured post my very first time – thank you Molly! I just published two posts yesterday so I will reblog e[lust] later this week, but rest assured that the deadline has been on my calendar for a month.

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Read Theo and L’s entire story, Age of Discovery, in paperback and Kindle versions, and epub format for Nook and other readers.
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Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

This one’s for you

L had pillows strewn all over her bed, and as she lay down I picked one up and commented on the pattern: “Pretty flowers.”

“They’re magnolias,” she told me, and pulled one beneath her to cradle her head as I worked the oil into my hands and started kneading her shoulders and worked my way slowly down her back and eventually to let my fingers enjoy the sweet muscle and fat at her waist.

The massage went on for a long time before I pulled her panties down in back and let them sling snugly along the clefts at the bottom of her ass. Beautiful, round pink mounds of flesh held in a leopard-print sling. I kissed each cheek, then the small of her back and kissed up her spine until I was kissing the side of her neck and nestling my cock between the cheeks of her ass. The pre-come lubricated the valley there as I stroked slowly, lightly in the sweet crack. Enjoying the soft curve of her waist and hip under my fingers, licking her neck and ear, rubbing my dick gently against her, starting to go a little crazy with lust, my fingers found their way to her ass and played gently there, rolling the slickness I’d deposited softly against her anus under one finger, then beginning to probe, violating her lovingly as the finger went inside and she drew in her breath audibly.

“I’m getting some lube,” I said.

Along with the lube, I brought a new glass dildo I’d just ordered. Not terribly thick, and maybe five or six inches long.

I took my time oiling her up, sliding a finger into her and out, then an oiled thumb easing inside her ass and back, in and back, in and back. I explored her like that for a long time listening to her breath slow and relax; her rhythmic inhalations and exhalations slowly became tuned to match the alternating distention and relaxation of her asshole under my languid probing.

Without breaking the rhythm, I withdrew my thumb and slid the glass dildo in its place, working her ass slowly until it was entering her to the hilt each time it went in.

“Lift up,” I said, and slid one of the flowered pillows underneath, raising her up for me. One hand held the glass cock in her ass, the other twined fingers into her hair and pulled her head back as I slid into her pussy. She moved her hands to the headboard and gripped as if she were tied there while I pierced her simultaneously with a glass cock and one of flesh.

The sounds she made as she came were sweet, almost desperate.
When I pulled the dildo from the sweet pink mouth of her ass, she turned to look and her eyes went wide. “How much of that went in?”

“All of it.” I told her.

“No wonder,” she said without explaining.

I went through one of the Publix bags we keep the toys in, and came back with the other butt-toy that had come in the mail, a grey rubbery thing with a flared base and a button on the end to control the vibration. I held it in front of L, and she smiled. I knew her butt was still lubed and slick from before but when I moved the thing down to her she stopped me with her hand.

She kissed my shoulder. “No,” she said. “This one’s for you.”

whitespace* * *

She pushed on me to signal I should lie down with my ass up. I was happy to do it.

“Up,” she said, and as she had done before, I raised my hips; she slid the pillow under me and I settled back down, my dick resting easily in the soft feathery folds as I waited.

She spent some time exploring me with her hands, feeling the bones of my shaved head, poking in the hollows of my cheeks, squeezing the meat of my shoulders before moving down to take my ass cheek in one soft hand. Her fingers glided around my ass for a few moments before her palm lifted and came down sharply on one cheek. The sharp sting and the sound of the slap filled me with dirty joy.

But that was just the start. She spanked me until she got bored and then she hit me with a bamboo rod. “Oh, that left a welt,” she said. I answered, “Please yes,” and she went on with the rod for a while and the sharp pain turned into sweet pleasure. When she was satisfied with the sound of my exclamations, exhalations, she stopped whipping me and passed her hand softly over the tender welts she’d made, bringing me more pleasure than I knew what to do with. The she climbed up and propped herself over me to grind her pussy against the small of my back, to push her mound into the crack, teasing and rolling against my ass, humping against me for the pleasure of both of us.

“I love this,” I said, and I felt the oil in the crack of my ass, and then her fingers.

“Do you love this?” she said, teasing my ass.

“Yes, baby I do love that.”

She gave my ass more lubrication and more attention, and I felt the plug slide inside, and she switched on the vibration, and I said, “Fuck you’re good to me.”

“Just wait,” she said. Her hand moved under me and her fingers circled my cock and she began to jack me off slowly while she rolled the plug inside me, pulled it out, pushed it in again, tickling the tender flesh just inside my ass.

I felt her kiss my shoulder and I said, “I’m about to come.”

“You go ahead, baby,” she said, stroking my cock and sliding the humming plug in and out of me. I shot all over the flowery pillow and continued fucking her hand. She was sweet to me; she made her hand as welcoming as a cunt, keeping her fingers curled snugly around my slippery cock, milking me until I slowed finally and stopped.

I rolled onto my back; she was smiling down at me as I breathed surprisingly hard. I pulled at her neck, brought her face closer so I could kiss her lips, her cheek, her neck. “Oh fuck honey,” I breathed into her ear. “Oh fuck.”

whitespace* * *

Later, to cleanse the palate I guess, we fucked in the most conservative way possible; she lay on her back and I perched between her knees like a missionary between his housemaid’s, before we went out to meet friends for dinner.

whitespace* * *

All this happened the last time I saw her, five weeks ago I think. She’s coming to visit again today; she should be here within thirty minutes.

Read Theo and L’s entire story, Age of Discovery, in paperback and Kindle versions, and epub format for Nook and other readers.
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Posted in Anal, Erotica, Masturbation, Sex, Sex toys | 66 Comments


I’m trying to branch off into fiction. This is a later chapter in the same story I called Elevator Fiction last year.


Karen stopped in the teacher’s lounge to freshen her make-up before meeting the others for happy hour. This was going to be an adventure, showing up at Shogun’s, the favorite bar of Marty and the other young-ish teachers who seemed to be the ones at school that Karen could still identify with after Daniel left her and she received her promotion to assistant principal.

She took a moment to examine herself from head to toe, even peering over her shoulder to glimpse her ass in the mirror — still good and round, she thought; the linen slacks rested lightly on her ass, accenting the curve where she imagined somebody’s hand resting lightly, appreciatively. She turned back around and watched her own eyes as she playfully cupped her breasts and put on a smile; she couldn’t help laughing at herself. Yeah, she thought; it’s Friday night, I’m going to be surrounded by young guys like Marty and Steve, and maybe even D’Shawn — he’s single, right? Maybe I’ll just take one of those baby boys home with me.

She was feeling cocky. Somewhere between Ralph and Jimmy, Karen had started to feel she deserved to think of herself as sexy for the first time since before she was married.
She held her hands at her sides and appraised herself in the mirror, then pulled her sweater over her head and took off her shirt before pulling the sweater back on, leaving nothing under it except the soft bra; she checked in the mirror before she headed out, confirming that the nipples could be made out under the baby-blue cashmere. But just barely; she was a lady after all.


She felt brazen and sexy as she walked into Shogun’s, smiling, greeting the others with light hugs, brushing the cheeks of the men with her lips, chattering for a moment with everyone. But within 20 minutes, she felt lost, and was starting to feel like she’d made a mistake. Marty had given her a hug and said, “Hey sexy lady” to her, but after a few passes at conversation, he and the others seemed to have abandoned her for people their own ages, and Karen had to order her second round alone, trying to look like she wasn’t lonesome. Maybe she’d misread the signals; maybe she wasn’t so tight with her new friends after all.

She looked around at the others, plugged into animated discussions with each other; Marty was talking to two girls, one blonde, one black, and Karen thought he’d gestured at her. She waved weakly and turned back to the bar. This was mortifying. She wondered if he was saying something like, “She’s the cool older lady who came out to the bar with us….” Like somebody’s aunt.

And then Karen saw in the mirror that the trio broke up; Marty and the blonde found a table and the young black girl walked in Karen’s direction and she saw that the girl was coming straight toward her. Oh my god, Karen thought, what did he say about me?
The girl sat in the stool next to Karen and put her drink on the bar and held out her hand. “I’m Gabrielle,” she said. Karen took her hand lightly, and Gabrielle said. “Marty told me you’re looking for a tenant.”

“Well, I am,” Karen said, realizing with relief that Marty had only been discussing the possible living arrangement. With Jimmy gone, she did need help with the mortgage. Karen looked the girl over. She looked maybe 25, with long silky black braids woven into her hair and pulled back and tied behind her neck. She wore jeans with a bright striped top, and pearl posts in her ears– two pearls in one ear, and a line of three in the other. She looked prosperous enough to afford to cover the rent.

Karen asked a few questions to get an idea of her financial situation, and she learned a lot. She was working at the school as an admin while she studied art at the University, and needed a place because she’d just broken up with her live-in boyfriend and was staying with friends until she found a place.

“I’d better find one soon,” she said. “I think they want their privacy back.”

“Privacy,” Karen said.

“I think Rick and Abby are used to a lot of shouting and screaming. Without company,” she said, and her eyes looked Asian as she laughed. Karen liked her.

They ordered refills and Karen retold the saga of the way Jimmy had walked out; Gabrielle filled in details of how she’d split with her boyfriend, Jordan. Karen felt the first flush of intoxication as they laughed, and then at one point, she couldn’t tell if it was her imagination that Gabrielle’s eyes rested for a moment on the points of her breasts that she’d so purposefully left visible with a fantasy of drawing the attention of Marty or Steve or D’Shawn.

Involuntarily, her arms crossed in front of her chest as they talked. They ordered drinks again and swapped stories of old roommates, their likes and dislikes, the living arrangements they were happy with, and that led back to the house Karen was looking to share, and she said, “Let’s talk tomorrow. You should come by and look at the place.”

Gabrielle nodded and smiled. “But you’re not here to find a tenant, are you?” she said, casting her eyes around the bar. “It’s Friday night, you’re looking for some…”

Karen protested. “I just wanted to see my friends.”

“You’ve been separated how long?” Gabrielle squinted slyly at her. “Don’t tell me you’d turn down a massage and some love.”

“Not looking for love honestly,” Karen said. “But if we’re talking massage…” She laughed. “But seriously, I don’t think I’m in the right place for meeting someone.”

“Why not, you’re a pretty girl,” Gabrielle said with a tease in her voice, and Karen was surprised to realize she appreciated the compliment.

Gabrielle motioned to the bartender for a refill and said cheerfully, “Let’s find you a dude.” She looked around the room and nodded toward a tall, skinny blond boy in a Bull Dogs sweat shirt. “Feel like having some spring chicken?”

“A little young,” Karen said, laughing.

“Okay, how about that?” She said quietly as the bartender, having refreshed their drinks, walked away. Karen had already noticed his short hair and goatee and tattooed sleeves up both arms.

“No,” Karen said firmly, and looked pointedly at a guy in his late twenties in a tweed jacket; he might have been the only man in the place wearing a tie. “Now that one…” she said.

“Oh, you’re looking for a professor.”

“I’m not sure I’m looking for anything tonight. If so, I’m not seeing it yet.”

“Nothing on the menu for you baby?” Gabrielle said with that same teasing tone. “Or are you just cold-hearted?” They were on their third drink since Gabrielle had sat beside her, and Karen was almost embarrassed to find herself captivated by the girl’s dark skin, full lips, large dark curious eyes complemented by the lower lip that pushed out slightly to suggest petulance, or maybe determination.

Karen looked at Gabrielle’s face in the mirror behind the bar. She knew she was drunk, and she felt her breath changing; she said, “These guys…” back-sweeping her hand toward the room behind her. “Meh.”

The girl’s eyes went wickedly Asian again when she laughed and said, “Okay, to heck with it.” She looked seriously at Karen in the mirror. “How about a drink at my place? You like tequila?”

Karen hadn’t had tequila in years. “Sure, who doesn’t?” she said.

“I’ll make you a Margarita and see if we can forget about Jimmy and Jordan and the rest of these losers. Who needs them?”

Karen knew what they were doing now and she felt like bravely taking a dive off the deep end, and admitted, “I’d have a drink,” and then felt suddenly afraid. She tried to reverse herself. “Just a drink, you know. I don’t mean…”

She trailed off and Gabrielle raised an eyebrow as she watched Karen’s face, considering.
“Don’t mean what, sugar?”

“I don’t want…” Karen couldn’t complete the sentence.

“All right,” Gabrielle said, taking Karen’s hand and squeezing lightly before releasing it and stepping back. “If you don’t want, then don’t,” she said and stood up. “I see how pretty white girls are,” she said. “It’s all right.” Her expression was open as she turned and stepped toward the door. “Coming along?” she asked over her shoulder, just barely loud enough for Karen to hear.

Karen came along.


Gabrielle’s apartment was dark, and she lit a single lamp in the corner of the living room. It smelled lightly of patchouli, and Gabrielle left Karen to shuffle through the CD collection while she mixed drinks. She came up behind Karen and put a glass in her hand. Karen could almost feel the girl’s warmth next to her as she tasted the tequila, lime, and salt. “Yes,” she said. “You can make a Margarita all right.

She tried to stay calm as she shuffled through the CD collection without paying much attention to the names that she didn’t recognize. She felt Gabrielle’s presence close like a shadow behind her, seconds before Gabrielle leaned into her and put one hand lightly on Karen’s hip.

Karen jumped. “What are you doing?” she said in a voice that came out higher-pitched than she planned.

“Touching you,” Gabrielle said. “I want to see if you feel as cold as you try to look.”
“Cold?” Karen knew she was holding back because her head was spinning and she was confused, but she didn’t like coming off as “cold.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing here,” she said, flustered.

“That’s okay, pretty girl,” Gabrielle said quietly behind her. “I can take care of you.”

Karen turned to face Gabrielle, who took her time moving closer, resting her softly-rounded belly against Karen’s, and waiting a few seconds before she reached to push the hair away from Karen’s face, and kiss her with soft, wide lips. She tasted lightly of tequila, and her tongue came inside, and Karen was surprised that her own tongue reciprocated, exploring Gabrielle’s lips, playing with her tongue. When Gabrielle took her hand, Karen twined her pale fingers with Gabrielle’s dark fingers, and the sight made her suddenly hungry, and she almost dove at Gabrielle; their teeth touched and wet tongues slid against each other, and she felt Gabrielle’s breasts touching hers through their blouses and bras.
This is happening, Karen thought, and she didn’t resist when Gabrielle led her to the couch and pushed her down. Gabrielle kissed her again, barely brushing Karen’s breast before she dropped to her knees in front of the couch. “I know what you want,” the black girl said.

How could she, Karen wondered, shaking her head. “How can you know,” she said. “When I don’t know what I want, myself?”

“I’ll show you,” Gabrielle said. She rested her hands on Karen’s knees to lean forward and kiss her cheek, her neck, her collarbone, before dropping back on her haunches.
“Don’t be afraid, pretty lady,” Gabrielle said. “Let me show you.” Her dark fingers rested lightly on the waistband of Karen’s slacks for a moment, and Karen wanted to object, but couldn’t make words come out of her mouth. She watched, almost paralyzed, as the strong fingers pried the button free and slid the zipper down, parting the fly so that Karen felt suddenly naked and exposed in a way she’d never felt. Gabrielle’s eyes took in the beige flesh and looked up smiling into Karen’s eyes before she bent to press a light kiss on the fabric of Karen’s blue panties. The sudden desire Karen felt was like nothing she could have imagined–the beauty of the girl presenting herself to serve her pleasure.

Gabrielle kissed again, touching her lips repeatedly along the waistband of the panties before kissing and lightly tasting the flesh of Karen’s belly. It felt like Gabrielle had found sweet nerves in her skin that Karen didn’t even know were there.

As Gabrielle peeled back the linen slacks and tugged them gently down her thighs, Karen felt another layer of skin, another layer of her soul, peeling back at the same time. When Gabrielle had freed her from the slacks, pulling them free of the feet, dropping them in a heap next to the couch, she rested her hands lightly on the insides of Karen’s thighs, pressing them gently apart. Karen felt the self she knew dissolving into mindless pleasure and desire.

Gabrielle’s lips felt like sparks on Karen’s skin, and then the fingers moved to pull the waistband of Karen’s panties down her hips, thighs, ankles, and away, before Gabrielle kissed Karen full on the fur of her mound. Karen heard her draw a deep breath through her nose before she sighed, “You’re sweet, pretty girl. Your sweet, pretty pussy…,” and touched Karen’s cunt-lips with her tongue. “I’m going to feast on you, pretty girl,” she said. “I’m going to eat you like a cake, baby.” She crooked her neck so her tongue could reach the folds around Karen’s pussy.

So soft, was all Karen could think. Like silk. The tingle started slowly as she felt Gabrielle’s tongue on the lips down there, sliding up, teasing almost up to her clit, then beginning again at the bottom, loving her, enjoying her like a curious, hungry kitten. Karen touched Gabrielle’s hair, surprised by the texture, and her fingers twined into the coarse kinks and unthinkingly took a grip as the head moved up and down, pleasuring her so softly she wanted to stop breathing.

Gabrielle’s hand s rested lightly on Karen’s thighs, stroking the skin softly as she continued eating her, and her expert tongue brought Karen to a climax, bucking up against Gabrielle’s face, lifting her legs to cross her ankles behind Gabrielle’s head, panting and huffing until she was exhausted and her clit was swollen and tender.


After her breath had returned and Gabrielle was next to her on the couch, Karen let herself go the rest of the way. A tentative touch to the girl’s clothed breast, then the slow undressing, kissing the creases between the pushed up mounds of her breasts, sucking the pointed nipples, the surprising joy when she sensed she was giving Gabrielle pleasure – there was something different, deeper, calmer than the satisfaction of pleasuring a man.
Her hand went lower and her finger found wetness, and she hurriedly tugged Gabrielle’s jeans off of her and pulled the panties off and flung them aside as quickly as possible to feed her desire to taste, to suck, to give the girl pleasure as fine as that she’d received.
Oh, she never thought she’d taste this. She found Gabrielle’s hand and held it tenderly as she dove in again, dragging her tongue deeply between the pink lips, the brown flesh, accepting the surprising scratch against her lips and cheek, the hard black hairs that crinkling across Gabrielle’s mound. She accepted the wet, slippery taste and fragrance that was like something she couldn’t name, like salted animal flesh, dark cellars, and shame and joy.

The thought occurred to her: What if Daniel could see her? Would he still say she was an ice-queen?

She bent close again, pushed her tongue deep into the black girl’s cunt, wrapped her lips around the clit and sucked, playing at the pink pearl with her tongue. “Oh my god, girl,” Gabrielle almost shrieked. “You’re learning fast, baby,” and Karen took pleasure in Gabrielle’s praise.

She did everything she could imagine; she tickled tickling Gabrielle’s clit with her tongue while a finger, then two fingers, slid in and out of the wet hole. The aroma of Gabrielle’s pussy became stronger as she approached her orgasm. Karen turned the two fingers to curl up and pump Gabrielle’s g-spot while she sucked on the clit, and Gabrielle’s hard breath turned high-pitched whine. “You, you, you,” she uttered, touching Karen’s cheek and pumping her mound up to Karen’s face. “Ohhhhh,” turned into a long groan, and Karen let her rub her wet pussy against her face roughly as she held Karen’s head against her and slid the wet cunt juice across her mouth and chin. Gabrielle came hard, and Karen was proud. She did her best to work her lips and tongue on Gabrielle’s clit until she finally slowed, spent and ready for a break.

Gabrielle tugged Karen’s face up to hers and wiped with the sheet before she kissed Karen softly on the lips. “Oh baby,” she purred. “Oh sweet honey girl, you’re just honey, to make mama feel like this.”

Karen was proud.

They didn’t say much more that night; they showered and went to bed together to watch an online movie about two Australian women until they dropped to sleep, and when Karen woke up, she was surprised to see her fingers resting on Gabrielle’s soft breast. It was sweet sight to her for some reason, and she had a vague memory of peaceful childhood moments, and she floated in that the quiet space, taking in the smell of Gabrielle’s skin, the smell of Gabrielle’s cunt on her fingertips. It was strange and unfamiliar, but she lay contentedly for a while, feeling Gabrielle’s breath rise and fall softly, before she rose and dressed quietly so as not to wake Gabrielle.

She was almost singing to herself as she got into her car. She thought she’d be back, but right then she didn’t feel up to talking to Gabrielle or anyone else. She wanted to drive by herself, listen to CDs, revel in the sense that she’d left the world she knew, and was exploring unknown places, exciting places. Places where anything could happen.

Read Theo and L’s entire story, Age of Discovery, in paperback and Kindle versions, and epub format for Nook and other readers.
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Posted in Erotica, Fiction, Lesbian, Oral, Sex | 12 Comments