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Je veux être la fille avec la plupart de gâteau. Regardez-moi dans la glace.
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29 July 2005


Jefferson, Take Two


I am packed and ready to go. Miles and Jack have been at school since 7:45. I have to straighten the apartment, finish folding the laundry and take their bag to my mother. She’ll be keeping the kids while I’m in New York.

I have a client at 10:00, and then 30 minutes to run my last errand before leaving.

I had an IM with Rob, the owner of the sex shop, last night. He wanted to let me know that my rope had arrived; should he put it aside? Any chance I could come pick it up tonight? He’d really like us to have sex in the back room during business hours.

“Sorry,” I replied, “My kids are sleeping. I’ll stop by to pick it up on my way out of town tomorrow.”

“Where are you going?”

“New York for several days”

“Oh, that’s great. Well, it’s too bad you can’t come in tonight; I’m off tomorrow, but I’ll leave a note on the rope to give you a 10% discount…and Madeline, I’d really like to tie you up with that rope sometime.”

“Man, if you want to tie me up, you’ll need to do a whole lot better than 10%.”

What would I do without Marcus and his sage advice??

(Probably pay for gifts…I know, baby.)

When I walk in and tell the guy at the counter that I’m picking up something for “Madeline,” he brightens and says,

“Oh! You’re the one who’s leaving for New York!”

…So much for Rob being “the most discreet person you’ll ever meet.”

At the airport I open the 'Shibari Love Rope' package while waiting for the shuttle to the terminal, toss the plastic into the trash and put the soft red rope in my suitcase, nestled beside my Orchid G, Silver Bullet, butt plug, anal beads, condoms, lube and the strap-on.

I was a little torn about whether to check the sex toys or not. If I checked them, there was always the possibility that my bag and I would end up in different places. If I carried them on, they would be scanned and possibly removed for inspection.

I have a little bit of a fantasy in which I'm standing next to a security officer, explaining the functions of each toy.

“Now this is a vibrator with a nice curve to hit a woman’s G-spot. FanTAStic orgasms with this one…Oh! That? That’s the strap-on dildo I use to fuck men in the ass. Here, let me show you...”

I checked the suitcase.

When I landed I texted Viviane, called Jefferson and left a message, collected my things and caught the bus. As we crossed the Triboro Bridge, Colton called. He was glad to hear that I’d made it safely, and excited to know the plans for this visit. How many people would we be having sex with? Is the sex crew on alert? What about Marcus?

I told him that Jefferson and I had talked about it, but had decided to keep things simple this time. Relatively speaking.

“But you never can tell,” I said, “it is Jefferson and Madeline, together in the big city.”

Colton laughed.

“Maddie, just do me a favor, would you?”

“What’s that, darlin?”

“If you have sex with a girl, will you ‘Colton it up’ a little? And, you know, tell her ‘this is from Colton’ as you eat her pussy?”

Shocked and aghast, I agreed.

I am off the bus and going into the subway for the final leg of my journey. It is hot as hell. I’m wearing a low-cut sleeveless jersey dress which makes my ass look like [PA-POW!], and a pair of strappy sandals. I’d changed into the sandals at the airport. They look great, but are not so good for walking long distances.

I emerge from the underground, hot and sweaty and a bit winded from carrying my suitcase up the stairs. Jefferson lives two blocks away. I decide to sit and phone him again.


“Hey honey, it’s me.”

“Hi! Where are you?”

”Two blocks from you. I’m hot, so I’m resting.”

“Well, get here and rest!”

“Okay, I’m just warning you that I am very sweaty and probably stinky.”

“Girl, get yo’ stinky, sweaty self ovah here.”

The sun is getting low, and there is a breeze as I make my way to his building, dodging people out for their evening constitutionals, their tiny canine companions in tow.

As I cross the street I instinctively look up, counting the floors until I see Jefferson’s terrace. There are two hands waving at me from between the bars. My heart jumps. I flash a smile, but don’t wave back.

‘Cause I’m cool like that.

I knock on his door. No answer. Again. Nothing. Finally I pick up the phone and dial him.

What?! Where are you?!”

“Where are YOU? I’ve been knocking on your door for like, five minutes. It’s hot! Let me in!!”

My body is slick with sweat. He opens the door. I’m thirsty and tired and oh my god, it’s really him, I’m really back.

I can’t stop smiling.

I wheel the suitcase in, drop my handbag, and toss my phone and sunglasses on the bookcase. I step out of my sandals.

We kiss. It’s sweet and slow and reminds me of the last one we shared; the evening he left me at his apartment in April, on this same patch of floor.

“Welcome back, baby. I’ve missed you.”

“Sweet Jefferson, I’m so happy to be here. I’ve missed the fuck out of you.”

“Are you thirsty?”

“Very. Thank you.”

He pours waters and bourbons and we carry them back to his room. The air conditioner is working overtime.

“Come sit, sweetheart. Get your bearings. We have lots of time. Do you want a shower to cool off?”

Truth is, I could have used a shower, but I have this thing about body scent and sweat. I want to smell and taste like me; not like freesia or rice flowers. Plus, I really didn’t want to take my lips off him or be bothered with using my hands for anything but touching him.

I set down my drinks and peel off my dress in front of the air conditioner. Crawl onto the bed and sit on my heels next to Jefferson. I have on black boyshort panties and a bright pink camisole.

I tell him about the flight, and about Colton’s request. He cracks up. I fill him in on the latest episode in the “Discrete Rob” series. I am laughing, shaking my head and burying it in his chest, covered by a t-shirt.

“Honey, you’re dressed…did you put on clothes for me?” I ask.

“I did, in fact! I couldn’t very well answer the door in the nude. What if Mr. Lansky had been walking by?!”

He takes off his clothes. I lose the rest of mine. Finally.

We are on our knees on the bed, the cool air hitting our bodies. He is licking the salty skin of my chin and lips and neck. He pulls back, holding my face.

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“Baby, I love you.”

Jefferson pushes me onto my back puts on a condom and pulls my legs up straight, holding my calves and rubbing his freshly shaven cheek against them. I touch his face with my feet and he sucks on my toes as he fucks me.

I alternate between pulling my legs straight back toward my face and spreading them wide, hands holding my heels. We are fucking slowly, savoring every second, kissing and watching each other.


His right hand strikes my cheekbone, sending searing pain across my eyes and toward the bridge of my nose. I gasp,


I wait, and smile as the warmth spreads over my entire face.

“……again…please. Do it again.”

He does, and then sets to fucking me hard. He brings his hand to my throat, watching my face, never looking away.

I am nodding, smiling because it feels so good.

He lets up, and I gasp.

He pulls out and moves his head down to my pussy. His mouth is on my clit, sucking and biting it the way I like. I cum, arching my back and pressing myself onto him. I can’t focus my eyes; the building could be collapsing around us for all I care. I just want to feel this for a long, long time.

We are covered in my sweat. Jefferson is looking at me, sitting back and stroking my pussy. He holds a glass of water to my lips, and I raise my head to drink. As he replaces the glass on the nightstand he slips two fingers into me, curling them up to my g spot. I press down with my hand just above my pubic bone; our fingers rubbing against the muscles which separate us.

The bottle of lube is on the nightstand. He drips some onto my pussy and his fingers. I know what’s coming. I stare into his eyes. They are intent and fixed on my face.

I take a deep breath, and relax my entire body.

Jefferson starts with his two fingers already inside. He adds another, then another. I breathe deeply, and release tension in my legs and hips and shoulders. I lose count at four fingers and float away. It’s a good technique; like Peter Pan, I just think lovely, wonderful thoughts and up I go.

I am full, fuller than I've ever been. My nerve endings are on fire; the sensations overloading them as his fist rocks inside me.

Soon, I am splitting in two, and cumming harder than anything, and it’s too much. I am jerked back to the feeling of a balled-up fist in my cunt, which is being rammed back against my pelvic bones with the force of my orgasm. THAT hurts.

I am moaning, “Ssttoooooooppppppppp.”

“You want me to stop?”

“Yes, please stop….”

He unclenches his fist, and slides his hand out slowly, bringing the sweet stuff with it.

Tears are running down to my ears. I start to calm down as he kisses them away.

When I could speak, I looked at him, still petting my hair.

“Jefferson… that was fucking amazing… What was that? What were you doing?”

“Fisting your pussy and fucking you with my dick.”

“At the same time?”


“There was a fist and a cock in my pussy?!”


“Oh, my dog.”

We were both a little shocked.

The next morning, after I rub Arnica cream onto the bite marks on the inside of my left thigh, I open my jar of Egyptian Magic. It is very soothing and just the thing for a recently fisted pussy. Jefferson notices the jar and says,

“So is this what makes your pussy so magical?!”


Blogger Frenchy said...

this piece of writing is magical! , perhaps not as much as your kitty, though. thanks for your comments chez moi, nice to knwo someoen is reading :)

Blogger Viviane said...


Mmmmmmmmm. Soooo good. Can't wait to read the rest

Anonymous Introspectre said...

Wowza- I've been reading Jeffersons blog for awhile. Awesome to hear the other side of this story- I was wondering how a fist feels. Tried in once, didn't get anywhere close. Owwie! Worth it, though, huh?

Blogger Madeline Glass said...

SO worth it. check out

for great information on fisting. Slow and steady...that's my mantra.


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