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Je veux être la fille avec la plupart de gâteau. Regardez-moi dans la glace.
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26 August 2006


III. The Dangling Conversation

Friendships like ours are funny.

We’ve known each other for 18 years, more or less, and I can’t tell you his middle name. He scowls. He is cranky more often than not. He disappears for months and doesn’t explain why when he returns.

Not that I require much in the way of explanation.

We don’t talk about our feelings.

He’s said he feels sexually proprietary toward me. I’ve said that is a problem. He knows it is.

We check in on mundane things: Work, health, travel.

Occasionally we’ll talk about sex.

He regularly annoys me.

But then he is a sympathetic and realistic voice when I need to talk about my divorce or my children (usually both, actually).

Late one night I was awake, upset by something my former husband Daniel had done or said. We chatted and, because I was clearly upset he called me. He called Daniel a douchebag and that made me laugh, because I hadn’t heard that word in forever.

And aside from that one conversation a couple years ago when he told me I’d hurt him by sleeping with his roommate in college, we have never discussed anything close to a topic of “us.”

He’s known me over half my life. I like having that connecting thread.

A few days ago he phoned. He’s been working on a new project which is very exciting and he was in a talkative mood.

Me: So I wanted to just say, again, that it really was fun seeing you this summer.

Him: Indeed. What was the most fun?

Me: Besides the coming? I guess the familiarity and comfort I felt. We were cool, and it was nice to not have any performance anxiety.

Him: It felt safe.

Me: Yeah.

Him: Question:

Me: Yess?

Him: Do you do Kegel exercises?

Me: Why do you ask?

Him: Curious.

I thought about it for a second. I don’t schedule Kegel sessions on my calendar, but I do some serious pussy clenching during sex and masturbation. Hmmm…

Me: Every day.

Him: Because—(truth?)

Me: Truth.

Him: I was preparing myself for a blown-out pussy.

Me: MINE?! What? From babies?!

Him: It happens.

Me: Not to me, it doesn’t.

Him: Yours was anything but. How do you ever get fisted?

Me: Oh, you know, it stretches. Just takes a little time. But, um, thanks for the compliments; first my ‘little girl nipples’ and now this. I feel a rush of blood to my cheeks. By the way, what did you enjoy the most?

Him: Fucking you. And the blowjob. That was nice.

Me: Uh-huh!

Him: Why do you like that so much?

Me: I like the effect cocksucking has: Seeing and hearing the way your body responds, knowing it’s because of what I’m doing. It’s hot.

Him: Indeed...

I don’t ask him when he’s coming to town again.

He doesn’t ask me to come to the west coast.

There’s always a hesitation, a holding back, like we know better than to talk about those things. It's much easier to keep it superficial.

I think maybe he reads this blog.

I wonder if he does, in fact.

I’m not sure I want to know, so I don’t bring it up. I probably won’t.

I don’t think he will, either.

18 August 2006


II. Bookends

He pushed my dress up past my breasts, his fingers pulling aside the fabric of my bathing suit and gliding over my nipples.

I slid it the rest of the way off over my head. He sat me up, back to him and untied the string between my shoulder blades. My bikini top came off.

I pushed him down onto his back and crawled up to his chest. I kissed his nipples, licked and gently bit them. His hands stroked my back, then moved to my chest, caressing my tits. I sat back on my heels next to him.

"You have the cutest nipples."


"Yeah, they're like little girl nipples."

"Really? What makes you say that?" I said, looking down and fingering my nipples.

"They're tight and compact and the areolas are small. You don't expect nipples like those on tits as big as yours. It's hot."

"I think that may have been the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to my nipples," I said, moving lower on his body, "Thank you."

And with that I took his cock in my mouth and sucked as if I'd been starving for a month.

I had no idea what he liked in terms of blowjobs. The last time we'd been naked in a bed together was 1992 and then the only reason my mouth would have been on his dick was because he'd pushed my head down there. Then I was earnest, because I'd wanted to please him, but I never really enjoyed doing it.

That was then, before I understood the power of cocksucking.

I took my time. I took my cues from his voice and breathing and the flexing of his hips.

"That feels so good . . . " he said, as i stroked his shaft with my hand while licking his balls.

I smiled. I was having fun and I was glad he was here. It was comfortable and fun and relaxed. No pressure.

His breathing shifted. I looked up at him, questioning with my eyes.

"I thought there'd be no way you'd make me come with your mouth, but now I'm not so sure . . . you'd better stop."

I pulled off and smiled. I went to grab a condom from my drawer. I found ONE. I'd ordered a carton four days earlier, but they hadn't arrived yet. I rolled the latex onto his wet cock and suddenly realized that I needed to pee.

Better to do it now than be terribly uncomfortable fucking, I reasoned.

"I have to pee."


"Yes! I'm sorry, but I really have to go. I'll be quick."

When I returned he pulled me onto the bed and turned me around.

On my hands and knees, I closed my eyes. I could feel him behind me, kicking my knees apart, pushing my shoulders down. I arched my back, knowing instinctively the best angle for his cock to slip inside me.

The head of his cock pressed against my lips which were trying to suck it in. I knew this game. He would wait, poised, until I got so worked up that I'd slam myself back and he'd slice into my cunt like a knife through butter.

I was already swollen and wet from his tongue and fingers and just the thought of fucking was making me a little bit insane. I circled myself around his cock, not letting it in, feeling its hot hardness at the entrance to my pussy. He sighed and grabbed my hips. I slammed back.

As we started to fuck I tightened my cunt around his cock.

"Goddamn it," he muttered, fucking harder and faster.

And then, he came.

As soon as I figured out what was going on I started to laugh. I couldn't help it. Lucky for me, he is secure in his virility. He collapsed on top of me, his cock shaking inside me as he laughed hysterically. Neither one of us could speak, breaking only for gasps of air, only to start giggling again.

"Well," he managed, holding the condom as he pulled out, "that was unexpected."

I howled, "Dude, that was my only condom!"

We lay on my bed, our hands touching each other familiarly. We didn't talk about the past or our personal lives now.

He said he was hungry now, too, and I offered to drive us to his favorite Mexican take-out place for burritos. There's always a place like that you want to visit when you go back home. While I grabbed my jacket he went to his car and came back inside for me.

"Jeez, this place needs to air out a little," he laughed.


"It smells like sex."

"I think it smells awesome."


I. Old Friends

He got lost on the way to my house. Everyone does.

I talked him over, closing the phone and stepping outside when he pulled up. I invited him in and offered a drink.

He set his bag down on the futon and opened his arms, "It's been a long time." I stepped into them and he pulled me close, burying his face in my neck. We stayed like that for several minutes.

He'd made an appointment for a massage and he needed it, too. I was glad, because I didn't really know what to do with myself now that he was here in my living room after 12 years.

My professional self took over and I told him to undress and lie on the table while I went to wash my hands.

I'm fastidious that way.

What followed was an ethical, professional deep tissue massage. His body was completely covered and so was mine.

Nearly two hours passed as we talked and joked. He was in town for the wedding of a classmate the next evening.

"Where is she registered?"

"Dunno; I went off-registry."

"What did you buy?"



When I'd finished working on his neck and shoulders I left him lying on the table and went to wash my hands again. He was still there when I returned and I remarked at how hungry I was.

"Do you have a snack to stave it off?"

"Well, I have a banana," I said.

"Then you should eat a banana."

He stood and wrapped himself in the sheet. I got a banana from the kitchen and ate it quickly.

I popped the last of the banana in my mouth, grinning. He opened his arms again, sheathed with the pale yellow sheet and brought me closer like some albino bat.

We stood there, rubbing heads and faces and chins and hands tracing backs and shoulders and necks and breathing but not kissing. In high school we made a habit of kissing in bathrooms at parties. I really wanted to kiss him now.

He was hard against my stomach. I pushed gently toward him.

"Can we go to your bed? I can't sit against this table."

"Of course." I went to lead him into the bedroom. He held my shoulder and kept me next to him, both of us wrapped in the sheet.

He led me to the bed, backed me up to it and followed me onto it. He was naked, I was still fully clothed.

He kissed me. I sighed. I remembered those.

His hands were on my face, touching and stroking, moving out to my shoulders and arms. His knee pressed my dress up between my legs and rested against my cunt. I couldn't move.

I put my hand behind his neck and felt his hair while our tongues hugged between our teeth. I bit his lower lip.

His hand pulled the hem of my dress up, uncovering my belly. I still had my bikini on. His fingers traced the waistband and then lowered it down past my knees, pulling it all the way off with his foot.

He sat up, looking down at my pussy. I lifted my head and shoulders to see what he saw: My freshly groomed pubic hair, silky and nearly straight in a patch above my slit.

His finger traveled from my belly button to my clit.

My tongue did that clicking thing against the roof of my mouth as I lay my head back and gave in to his touch.

Then his mouth was on my clit, his tongue working determinedly, steadily.

He put a finger inside me, massaging my g-spot, his tongue flicking over my clit. I was circling my hips down toward him, arching my back, opening my knees. He hummed "mmm-hmmm" from between my lips and inserted another finger. I writhed.

He sat up and back, strumming my clit with his thumb and lifting my pelvis with his fingers, sending sharp circles of pleasure into my body. A high-pitched moan from the back of my throat would have been a scream had my mouth been open. I turned my head into the mattress, hips raised, legs shaking, gushing into his hand and onto the sheets.

"God," he whispered, "are you okay?"

I nodded, smiling.

13 August 2006


Jordan Bound

Jordan: Hey, girlie.

Madeline: Hi, you. How are your exams?

Jordan: Oh, you know. Stupid. I'll be so glad when I'm finished with this stupid degree and I can get out of this stupid town.

Madeline: Poor baby, I know.

Jordan: What are you doing tomorrow?

Madeline: hmmm, let me check my calendar. Three clients in the morning, but not a thing after 3:00. You?

Jordan: Free after 2:00. Want to get together? I've been craving a woman's touch like you wouldn't believe.

Madeline: Absolutely. I'm on my period, about I come over and tie you up?

Jordan: Ooooh! Yes!

Madeline: Excellent. Call me when you're home.

I packed my bag: Red silk rope, safety scissors, assorted vibrators, lube, my strap-on and two dildos. I tossed my camera in as well.

I needed lots of rope, though, so the next day I left early to go to the hardware store. I bought 100 feet of cotton clothesline. As I was checking out she phoned.

"Hey, girl, I'm back from my hair appointment."

"Fantastic. I'll be there in just a bit."

I confirmed directions to her place and parked. I grabbed Patra's Scent of Attraction CD which I'd not heard in forever and tossed it into my bag.

Jordan opened the door and smiled. "Hey!" She has this singsong voice that lilts up with her smile. Her hair was straight, hitting just at her shoulders.

I stood by her sofa as we chatted, cutting rope to various lengths. I gave her the CD to put into the stereo.


"Uh huh."

We went into the bedroom and I laid out the lengths of rope across the foot of her bed.

"You need to be naked now."

She undressed.

I worked slowly, explaining what I was doing as I fitted her with a corset harness and wound her torso in rope. It was her first time being bound, and we'd talked about what she was comfortable with. I didn't want to freak her out or have her feel completely powerless, just to feel the hug of rope on her flesh.

I was on my knees in front of her in the middle of her bedroom floor, reaching around to thread rope ends under the corset and then pulling them forward to her chest level.

"I'm going to bind your tits," I said, "so put your arms out to the sides."

I took one of her breasts, weighed it in my hand and lifted it forward and center as I encircled it with rope and secured it to the corset.

I was aware of the incongruity of our present situation: Jordan was completely naked and I was in my jeans and black t-shirt, motorcycle boots and Jefferson's thick black belt. I was working and she was my subject. I was active and she was passive. Occasionally the scent of her pussy filled my nose and I sighed. I couldn't help it.

"That looks so good."

"It feels good."

I finished her other breast, tied her wrists behind her back and stood up, stepping away to look.

"Oh, girl. That's so damn hot."

I took the silk rope and wound it around her eyes. I led her to the bed and helped her up onto it. I took some photos as she sat patiently in the dark. I helped her lie down and snapped some more.

"Rest there for a minute, while I take care of something."

I went into the other room and picked up a dining chair, set it in the corner of her bedroom and laid a towel on the upholstered seat. I took her hand and guided her to the chair. I tied her ankles to the legs while sitting between her knees. I caught her scent again and pushed it out of my mind.

I took my flogger from the bag and brought it up to her shoulder, letting it drag across her neck and chest and down the other arm. I traced swirling paths over her stomach, thighs and cunt, lightly slapping her legs with the straps. It was the first time she'd been flogged.

She gasped and sighed and I moved the ropes bisecting her cunt to either side of it, exposing her pussy which was practically begging me to touch it. I traced along her lips to her clit, so slick and small. I moved up a bit, above the protrusion and in towards her body, feeling for the root of her clit, behind the bud itself.

Jordan sighed and flexed her hips, pushing her pussy forward in the chair. Her head was back and turned to the side. I picked up a silver bullet and turned on the controller. I lightly circled her clit with it and slid a finger into her slickness. With my finger inside, I moved the bullet to the root of her clit, pressing a bit harder right off to the side. She squealed. A few more minutes and she came, arching her back and crying out.

She was shaking, panting and smiling.

"Are you okay, sweetie?"

"Oh, god, yeah . . . but I think I need a break."

I removed the blindfold and untied her ankles. Her wrists were next, and bit by bit I removed all the rope from her body. She had only slight indentations around her breasts and upper arms where the ropes had cut in when she strained against them.

I went to get her a drink of water while she put on her robe.

We sat at her table drinking our water and talking when it occurred to me:

"Oh, my gosh, Jordan! I totally forgot . . . I brought my strap-on! Wanna get fucked?"

"Hah! Do we have time?"

I looked at the clock. In twenty minutes I'd need to leave to pick the boys up at daycare.

"Just. Let's go."

Back to the bedroom where the light was lower, changing from afternoon to dusk I unpacked the harness and cocks

I laid the two dildos out on the bed and told her to choose one. She chose the smaller, more angled black Acute and I put the peacock Buzz back in its ziploc. I stepped out of my jeans and into the leg straps of my Terra Firma. I slipped a non-lubricated condom onto my cock and struck a pose.

"Oh my Goodness," Jordan smiled.

"This is going to be fun," I laughed.

She bent over the side of the bed and took her Pocket Rocket out of her drawer.

"Just in case."

"Hah. Use it, baby. But give me a minute before you do."

I reached around and felt her still-wet pussy lips, dipping a finger in and lubing her clit. I brought my cock to her slit and slowly moved it down to my finger. I pushed it in just past the head and then very, very slowly, entered her cunt. Her hips pushed back into me and she sighed. I moved slowly, letting the dildo warm in her pussy, taking my cues from her shoulders, back and ass, being sure to curl my hips forward at the end stroke, like a man.

We built a nice rhythm, Jordan still getting accustomed to the feel of my cock inside her, adjusting her feet and hips while bent over the bed, my hands stroking down her back and ass and thighs, taking handfuls of flesh and squeezing. Her face was turned and she reached for the vibrator, lifting her hips up and turning it on as she brought her hand down and began to work the vibrator around her clit.

Her hips started moving faster, circling, shaking. I grabbed on with both hands and slammed my cock into her, pulling her back as I thrust up. I was looking at her back, moist with the beginnings of a sweat when the clock caught my eye. As I looked at the clock my head turned and I saw the bathroom mirror. I saw myself standing in 3/4 profile, my legs long and pale, ass riding high and framed by black leather straps and silver buckles. I'd left my black t-shirt on and I watched as my muscles flexed and the sides of my ass got sucked in with the power of my thrusts.

"This is what I look like when I fuck,"
I thought. "That is so fucking hot."

Jordan pulled me back as her moans got insistent, "yeahyeahyeahyeahthat'sitthat'sIT . . ."

Her body shuddered and she went face down, her pussy clamped down onto my cock. I stood still for a minute, my hand on her back, sweat on my brow.

"Hmmmmm . . . " Jordan smiled.

"Yeah, baby, that was good!"

"Girl, that was NOT good. Not at ALL good."


"That was unbelievable."

02 August 2006


Thomas Cleans His Plate

The doorbell rang and I didn't answer it. Soon there was a knock and I heard the doorknob turn and a cautious "Hello?"

I stayed at my post, knowing he'd be crossing into view. I didn't look up, didn't say anything when he stopped in the doorway and took off his tie.

I tilted my head, lifted my ass and kept at it. I wished that I could see what he did: My back to him wearing a black corset and stockings, dangerously high heels and yellow latex gloves.

I kept washing the dishes.

I heard the faint noises of clothes coming off and then he was behind me, slipping his hands around to my front and leaning forward, putting his face next to mine.

"What are you doing?"

"Well, it's the strangest thing! I suddenly had an irresistible urge to wash dishes. Really, I can't explain it," I feigned, never looking away from my sink.

"It wouldn't have anything to do with the fantasy I mentioned to you the other day, would it?"

"Why, Thomas, do you mean the fantasy wherein you happen upon me as I'm washing dishes and then you fuck me in my kitchen?"

"That's the one," he whispered, his cock pressing against my ass, his hands traveling my body.

"I believe that may be it," I said, washing the last of the pans, "I'm glad we figured that out." I was a little breathless by then as he was running his fingers over my ass and thighs and up to my neck.

He kissed my neck and held me by my hair. I finished the pan and wiped down the counters. He allowed me to work and then spun me around to his mouth, pressing me against the counter, his hands planted on either side of my face.

A hand reached down to touch my pussy. His mouth on mine, he sighed at my wetness. He dropped to his knees, spreading my lips and teasing my clit with his tongue. I braced myself on the counter, leaning backwards onto my elbows and pushing my pelvis up.

I enjoy watching him between my legs. He is so earnest.

Thomas stood and kissed me with his pussyfresh lips. As I licked my taste from them, my tongue dancing over and between them, I felt his cock pulsing between us. I looked down. Fully erect, it stood vertically pressed back against his stomach.

He took me by the back of the neck and pushed me toward the table. My new kitchen table. He pulled off the tablecloth, dropped it to the floor and bent me over.

I fought the urge to pick up the cloth and fold it.

Thomas picked me up, set me down and fucked me on my table. It didn't flail or falter; not even the squeak of legs on the linoleum.

I wrapped my ankles behind his neck and watched as his cock slid inside me and out, thinking, "If my leg slips I could really injure him with one of these shoes."

My sacrum was starting to hurt. I put my hands, palms down, underneath my ass and slung my knees over his shoulders.

"Press down low on my tummy," I whispered, knowing how close I was to being very, very satisfied.

With his four fingers he pressed toward my pubic bone. On his next stroke his cock hit its mark and I gasped.

He looked up, a little worried, to see if I was okay.

"Do you feel your cock rubbing against your fingers?"

"Yeah . . . And the muscle between them. Fuck."

"Keep doing that."

Once I'd come, he helped me off the table while my legs were still trembling and I squatted in front of him in my heels to suck pussy juice off the condom.

We moved into the living room and I stepped out of the shoes.

He fucked me bent over the back of the futon.

He made a pretzel of my legs and torso and fucked me sitting on the futon.

While fucking me from behind, lying face down on the floor Thomas's breathing changed. He pumped faster and punctuated each stroke with a little grunt.

"Come on my face," I said, pulling away and sitting up.

Thomas tugged off the condom, jerked and spurted on my upturned face as I sat on my knees in front of him. When he'd finished, I sat smiling with his semen on my cheeks, eyes closed.

He kneeled down and cleaned every drop with his tongue.

"Madeline, I love . . . fucking you," he said, barely audibly.

I sensed for a millisecond that the "love" could have been followed by "you," and I got a little bristle in the small of my back.

"I always have so much fun when we get together," I said.

Then, "When the fuck did you start swallowing?"

"You like it when I swallow my own cum?"