Sep 162014
 

Kate noticed the trucks unloading next door when she went out for the mail. She flipped through a doctor’s bill, a movie, and a card from Brian’s mother. She picked up a box that was on the porch and headed inside, surveying the envelopes as she went.

“We’ve got new neighbors. I checked the mail. You got a card from your mother. Hey, do you want to keep getting these movies in the mail or just order a different package through our cable people?” Her husband, Brian, turned the cooking fan off.

“What? I can’t hear a thing you’re saying over this whirling” Brian pointed upwards, as if the sound was coming from God and not the hood of the stove. Kate grinned and just shook her head. She and Brian were married for six years. He loved cooking. She loved being cooked for.

“Nothing,” she laughed.

Kate dropped the box off on the table. She took the movie and sat it near the DVD player and the bill on the desk. She left the card in the kitchen for Brian to open. Kate took out a box cutter from the junk drawer and drew it across the clear tape that held the box closed. Inside was a sex toy and a book.

“Is that something for you to review?” Brian looked back over his shoulder to her with a smile on his face. His voice was loud over the sizzling in the pan behind him. She frowned and tilted her head at the smoke. It was probably a good idea to turn that cooking fan back on again.

Kate glanced back down to the box and the book she was holding. The toy was from a reputable company. The rigors of a review would tell it’s secrets. The book would either be a good read or it wouldn’t. Easy enough.

“Yeah. It’s just work.” Kate was a sex blogger. She received sex toys from companies. She used them. She wrote about her experiences with the toy, and included an abundance of information about it. Kate put all of these experiences and knowledge out on the internet for people to read. Of course she used a moniker.

Kate used her blog to write about the kinky exploits she had with her husband. Brian was fine with it. He enjoyed participating in photos and flipped ideas towards her writing. Some posts leaked information about upcoming reviews she worked on. Some posts were strictly erotica. Her posts were automatically sent to Twitter, Facebook, and tumblr.. From there Google+, StumbleUpon, Digg, Reddit, and a few other media options.

She didn’t have an extortionate amount of fans. She was excited to have the fans she did. Some followers were happy to get a post update from Kate. Some had no idea she existed. She blogged for herself. If others found her amusing, wonderful. Kate was happy with her own little space on the internet.

***

A few tweets from Kate’s moniker were retweeted into Denny’s timeline. He started following Kate on Twitter. She reblogged some pictures from tumblr.. They excited him. A post from her blog came across his timeline. Denny fell in love with her blog. Kate wrote stories that touched him deeply. Denny really wanted to know more about her.

He subscribed to her blog. He read everything, new and old. He spent a few days rolling around in the ups and downs of Kate and Brian’s relationship. Part of loving them was realizing that he was alone. He didn’t know anyone that he could talk to about his feelings. He longed for the hands of another.

Kate and Brian were the only ones he fit in with. He wondered if they might feel the same way about him. He spent so much time getting to know them. He hoped they shared his excitement. He had so many questions for her, and Brian, too. He hoped she would be willing to answer them now that they were neighbors.

Wicked Wednesday

Sep 162014
 

TMI Tuesday: September 16, 2014

Thanks to The Sin Doll for this week’s TMI Tuesday questions.

Pet Names & Body Parts
pet nicknames

1. Do you give pet names to anything? (e.g. Significant other. Car. Breasts. Penis. Vagina.)

My Car – Simone

The Husband – Daddy

2. Is there a pet name that you can’t stand being called?

little one.  I’m not a “little one.” I like baby girl, little girl, good girl. More than likely, bad girl.

3. Has your body ever done something that you didn’t understand? Even if it was a ‘first time’ something happened?

Squirting. I was shocked. I was like a fire hose. 

4. Which body part do you spend the most time on? (grooming, applying, etc.)

My Hair. It’s long and takes maintenance. 

5. The name of the best lover you’ve ever had.

The Husband. Probably because of our communication.

6. Have you ever taken an ex back?

Yes. Never forget that they’re an ex for a reason.

Bonus: What’s your biggest concern in the world today?

Terrorists. And The Socialites not getting into a good college.

 

 

TMI Tuesday blog
Sep 162014
 

SS_2014_08_SuperMan
Photo courtesy of Bawdy Bloke

Welcome to Elust #62 -

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 Elust. Want to be included in Elust #63? Start with the rules, come back October1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

Sex Blogger Life: Real Talk

Selfies, Shame and Safety

‘Dress me like a slut and punish my cock’

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

I live in a sex-positive bubble.

Wicked Wednesday: Silent Memories

 

~ Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*
Are you guilty of slut-shaming sex doll lovers?

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!

 

Writing About Writing

Why can’t I write gay erotica?!
Cream doesn’t rise: the state of UK erotica
Coming clean about writing dirty…
The Big Book of Submission: 69 Kinky Tales

Erotic Non-Fiction

I’ve Collared Myself a Human Pony
Strapped Back In
View From The Bridal Suite
It’s a date (2/2)
Your Tears Make Me Wet.
Photograph
Spanking – the ultimate mood changer

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Yes, I am a slut. So?
M feels that labeling myself “gay” erases him
“Appearance Not Important”
Traditional sexual consent vs bdsm consent
Bigger Doesn’t Mean Better!
All in One Person: Thoughts on Non-Monogamy
I Lust, Therefore I Am
Buddhism and Poly
The Great Outdoors
My Love Is Not About You #SameSexCouples
Thinking of You
Tantra Massage For Multiple Male Orgasm

Blogging

Blogging: My Layout Pet Peeves
An Unpleasant Outing

Erotic Fiction

The Flight Attendant’s Return Home…
Kinky Cocktail Story Time: The Jelly Bean
Spanked Silent
Hunted

Sex News, Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Quantification of Everything (Especially Sex)
Polyphobia – The New Homophobia

 

Thoughts and Advice on Kink and Fetish

For Submissives.
Protocols. I Want.
When You Can’t Trust Your Body
Masters Guilt
BDSM Is Not (the only) Kink
Fetal

 

ELust Site Badge

Sep 092014
 

TMI Tuesday: September 9, 2014

Welcome. Have fun. It’s time again for TMI Tuesday.

All Up In Your Business…

gladys-kravitz

1. What is the one word, in your vocabulary, that you use excessively? Don’t know…ask your friends and family.

Fuck

2. If you had to have a sex change, what part of your body would you want enhanced more than anything else?

My Dick

3. You are not having a sex change, what part of your body do you want enhanced?

My muscles, hidden beneath my fat.

4. When was the last time you felt possessive about someone?

This morning. Don’t fuck with anyone who spent nine months renting out a space in my womb.

5. When was the last time you got a wedgie and had to remove it in public?

I usually wear thongs in public, so they’re already there.

6. If the world froze for an afternoon and only you could move and no one could see you or remember what you did, what would you do?

I have a list.

Bonus: What is your favorite sex toy of 2014?

Nothing ever tops my Hitachi, but I still love my Mimi.

TMI Tuesday blog
Sep 072014
 

“These numbers are wrong. These numbers are very wrong.” Karla’s eyes widened as they scanned over the account totals Abe handed her. It was 6:30pm on Friday evening. She had plans to meet friends for drinks, but that wasn’t going to happen.

“Fuck!” She flipped quickly through the more detailed of information of each account. Karla was right. The numbers were wrong.

“Do you know who put these in? Fuck. This makes our team look incompetent. These go upstairs first thing Monday morning and they’re not going up like this, Abe!” Karla shoved the file back to him.

Abe was tall. He was muscular. His hair was more strawberry than blonde. Other than office candy, he was Karla’s guard dog. He was hired for his looks and his loyalty. He was hired because he knew his shot. Karla liked men who knew their shot.

“The team is gone. We stay and start from scratch. It takes us four hours, tops, both of us working.” Abe slowly sat down on the couch in her office. He was not looking forward to this. Neither of them were.

She leaned back in her chair and crossed her ankles on her desk. Her head dropped back while she waited for the situation to fix itself. It didn’t.

“We should get started.” He stood and groaned.

They worked for hours. Karla let her hair down. She took her jacket off. Her heels were turned on their sides somewhere under her desk. Abe ditched his jacket and tie. He flipped up his cuffs. Karla and Abe worked through every overlooked mathematical knot. The finishing touches were all that the report needed.

Karla had food delivered. After they finished eating, Karla pulled out a bottle of Jack she kept tucked away in her office for times such as this. She brought out two glasses, one over to him on the couch. They were close to the finish line. Karla offered one to Abe, which he gladly accepted. She curled up on the other end of the couch and gave her office a good looking over.

“This place is a wreck.” She groaned.

“Stop worrying so much. We’re almost done with this.” He casually reached over and scooped her feet out from under her and placed them in his lap, rubbing them gently as he spoke.

“We’ve highlighted every mistake. We’re going to make a huge pile of this mess and dump it on their desks. We’ll let them sort through their mistakes on Monday. You’ll send up the corrected numbers. Everything will be fine.” His hands moved along her ankles. They traveled back down to her toes and the balls of her feet.

She had never shared physical contact with Abe on such a level, but she was was not turning down his foot rub. It felt too damn good, especially given the stressful circumstances.

“That sounds good to me.” Karla took a long swallow from her drink. She was beginning to relax for the first time since the madness started. Abe was working on her naked calves now. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back.

Abe’s hands rubbed their way up to her knees. Karla lifted her head to look at him. She cocked an eyebrow and Abe stopped. He waited on any kind of direction from her. She chuckled and let her head fall back. That was good enough for him. His hands slid up her skirt and to her thighs.

Karla finished her drink in one big gulp. She set her glass on the table and spread her legs so Abe could have easier access. She leaned up and gently wrapped her hand around his neck.

“Do you want to eat my pussy?” Karla spread her legs wider. His hand could feel the heat from the top of her thighs.

“Yes, I do.” His eyes flashed in unexpected excitement.

“Good. As soon as those numbers are right, I’ll be sitting right here. Finish up.” She leaned back and let her legs fall open.

Abe sat back and let out a long sigh. He gently ran the outside of his finger run down the the inside of her thigh. His dick throbbed when he touched the silky border of her damp panties. He drew back and reached for the last few accounts left. He and Karla had straightened out the majority of the problems. He glanced over at Karla, then at the paperwork.

He totaled up what was left without doing the detailed work. Karla would never know. Soon enough she’d be smothering his face with her juicy cunt.

No one would notice the wrong number.

Wicked Wednesday

Sep 052014
 

Robin Lorinthrope’s phone pinged. She was over five minutes late leaving the office. She stood, running her hands down her curvy frame. Her black skirt accentuated her legs. She clicked her heels right out of the building.

She left at 6:06pm. Her phone recorded and alerted at the time. She had drinks with a friend at a posh little plug-in place down the street from the office. Robin used a step counter to see how many steps she took in a day. When she walked a lot, her phone pinged away like an electronic bird, begging for attention. Robin’s blonde, pigtailed icon alerted her of a benchmark. A picture of her with new pink running shoes congratulated her on her next level.

Robin enjoyed her free time for 46 minutes. She and her friend spoke about absolutely nothing and completely everything. One of her apps tracked her. It announced her location with a widespread photo of her in a red slouchie beanie and big sun glasses.

Her electronic calender put her into a cab with three dings, then in front of the nice big house she called home. Robin hightailed it upstairs and into her room. Clothes threatened to burst out of her closet in her very presence. Hangers were landmines, and everything held something else.

Robin tossed her phone into her overstuffed, unmade bed. The bedding was precious. Soft pinks and whites in layers. She kicked off her heels and reached for the zipper of her skirt. The consistent pings from her cell phone made the atmosphere tense. She raced to undress and re-hang her day’s attire.

She slid across the carpeted floor. Robin yanked out a t-shirt and a pair of panties from her dresser. She rolled into the t-shirt, yanking her hair in front of her face as she hustled. Robin used her feet to push the flimsy material of her thongs down the rest of her body. The leg holes stretched and tangled around her ankles.

She heard the door slam while she was one leg into a pair of boy shorts. She stopped skipping around. Robin quietly leaned against the wall and slid the other leg in. She ran her hand through her hair. She was silent.

“ROBIN!” His tone said ‘run and hide’.

And there it was.

Robin swung her door open. and cried downstairs, “Coming, Daddy!”

She saw that he was not as nipped and tucked as he usually was. Daddy looked stressed. Maybe Robin didn’t pick the best day to play office. Maybe she should have asked first. Daddy owned an Accounting Firm and sometimes, Robin liked to dress-up like a big girl and go work at Daddy’s office.

He planned them them, on slow days. He fucked her in his office. The first time, he just slid her thongs to the side. Those panties have never been washed. The smell of them make him hard. He put her on her knees under his desk. They teased, nipped, and grinned, up until her mouth was prime for the rutting.

Daddy was having an issue with one of his auditors, and a client that called him directly. The client called every five minutes and with problems his auditor had the responsibility of solving. Five minutes after he finished wrestling his day-long problem, he looked out of his office to see Robin talking on one of the company phones. No permission.

Daddy explained to her that she walked right out of the office and was gone. She never came into his private office to tell him that she was there. She had a phone that pinged and beeped, but when Daddy needed her, he fell into the company of all those ridiculous alerts.

“Now go get that goddamn phone,” He was furious.

She followed the dings and the pings until she found her phone buried in her bed. He met her upstairs in her room. She offered the sing-song device to him. He took in the messy sight and moved past the pouting girl. He took a seat on the edge of the bed and made himself comfortable. *Ping*

“Leave the phone beside me. I want you…. here.” He pulled her down and over his lap. She cried out, but knew the punishment was coming.

“I already know it’s going to hurt! How many? *PING*How many, Daddy?” Robin was already crying about the spanking she was afraid of getting.”

“I’ll stop once that phone goes silent.”

*PING*

Jun 122014
 

When Empowered Products contacted me about their lubricants, I expected to hear about Gun Oil and Pink. Both were well known products, but neither one sat on my nightstand for regular use. I was excited to give them a try.

The company sent a sampler pack with all of the different products they carry. This was what really turned me into a kid in a candy shop. I emptied all the samples out onto the floor and began to open them one by one. I ran out of fingers. The Husband found me in the bedroom with lube all over my legs. Don’t get me wrong, he’s found me in odd predicaments before while reviewing toys, but the lube legs were a little odd for him.

I knew I had to include my favorite people in my lube leg adventure.

Alas, LubeFest was born!

I’m giving away:

A 3.3oz. of Pink, a 3.3oz. of Pink Water, a 4oz. Of Gun Oil H2O

3 sampler packs of the different lubricants that EP offers.

It’s a LubeFest. Join right in. :)

Contest ends June 26! US ONLY

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Apr 152014
 

Elust #57 Cammies on the Floor Image
Photo courtesy of Cammies on the Floor

Welcome to Elust #57 -

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 Elust. Want to be included in Elust #58? Start with the rules, come back May 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

I’ve Got 99 Problems

Vasectomy Blues

I’ve always wanted to call myself queer.

 

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Aoyama Yuki and My Very First Times

I don’t know how to be happy

 

~ 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!

Sex News,Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Prostitution Laundering
That Body-safe Sex Toy Could Make You Sick
“Nice Shoes. Wanna Fuck?” — On Pick Up Lines
Rape prevention
Life of a Sheltered Child: Sex Toys (Part II)
A Tour of Fucking Sculptures Sex Toy Studio
Bashing Belle Knox: Because You GET Porn
Would You Pay $133 to See Midori Eat Fruit?

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

Heart of Glass
Talking BDSM: Are safewords really necessary?
45 Seconds
I want
Whispered Words
Aftercare: In Kink and Erotica
Ariel Castro: The Man in the Mirror?
We Are Ethical
Apology tokens, punishments, and forgiveness

Erotic Fiction

Very Short Stories – If We Hadn’t Had Sex
Billy
Larry Knew Better
Lasting Impressions
The Boys
Sounds of a Kitten
Chemical (se)X
Shopping Together
Enjoy Being Seduced on the South Bank
Room 6
Caught In The Act
Packing Light
For your thighs only (007 Parody)

Erotic Non-Fiction

Dental Torture
My hand around your throat
Conversations With My Owner
Cuming Without You.
On My Knees Again
It Always Starts With A Kiss
World Champion, Yes, I Can!
Omne Trium Perfectum
When Good Sex Tapes Go Bad
Submission: An Initiation (Part Four)

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Hidden No More
Female condoms are fucking awesome!
Female Ejaculation and How to Achieve It
Mommy Doesn’t Want Sex
How To Train Your Vagina
Camp Dildo
Being slut shamed made me want more sex
Don’t say my name

Blogging

“Hidden” memes
A Brief History of Sex Blogging

Writing About Writing

Openings and Grabbing Your Reader

Poetry

Sense Memory – a Lusty Limerick

 

ELust Site Badge

Apr 132014
 

Tommy was taller than me by at least a foot. He was solid. He was thick. I felt the time he put in at the gym when he pressed against me. I didn’t want to pull away. My body had nowhere else to go, anyway. There was no safe zone. I couldn’t get around him. I didn’t want to. We were face-to-face. I had to pay up.

He gently referenced kink. He had my attention. He knew it. My playful banter and coy responses, brought about his warning. He was no one to tease. My stomach dropped and my pussy convulsed. I wanted to tease him. I wanted to test him.

He was a regular at the bar. He kept to himself, but gave way to coy flirting and witty backcap. He gave as good as he got. The innuendos were quiet, even with the loud background and my business with other patrons.  All of the witty repartee siphoned out his dominant side. He knew I had an obvious understanding, but had chosen to teeter on the bratty side. I did so from behind the bar. It was a safe zone, mentioned many times. It was part of our game. I could tell it excited him. It excited me.

When Tommy stayed for more than his usual three beers, we spoke more in-depth. He couldn’t adapt to a vanilla relationship. And no relationship adapted to him. He was taking a break for a while. He went to the gym. He went to work. He came to the bar. Happy hour was very happy for both of us.

Some of his words sent me dipping out of sight. Hidden behind the bar was an unused kitchen. It stored two big beer coolers and the liquor kept in stock. There was never time to rub one out at work. Someone was always fucking thirsty. It did provide enough privacy to regain mental footing, if only for a moment. It was becoming obvious to him what was sending me running for cover. It amused him. I never expected him to follow me.

But there he stood. Shock stole my tongue. I looked up at him. He looked straight down to me. He was stoic.  I considered nervously laughing off my surrender. But the atmosphere changed, and I didn’t have any more witty remarks. He leaned down and filled his hands with the back of my thighs. His fingertips gripped tightly just above the shredded line of my cut-offs. He lifted me with up with spread legs and leaned his weight against me and the beer cooler.

His lips were fat. I wanted to suck one. I tried to kiss him, but he pulled away. I looked up at him, instinctually; my face questioning what I thought was his hesitance. But I didn’t see him. He caught my mouth the instant before. Those lips that I wanted to taste were eating me whole.

It wasn’t romantic. It had nothing to do with what I wanted. This person was who he warned me about. He told me that he was no one to tease. There was no safety of the bar’s depth between them. Three beers today. Tommy wasn’t thirsty. Tommy was hungry.

The thick seam from my cut-off jeans rode up in between the plump outer lips of my pussy. Tommy’s handfuls were kneading their way up to my ass. I got his lip, for a moment. He let me have it. He nosed down and bit my nipple through my t-shirt. He could have it. I was cock hungry. He could have pushed the panties aside and slid right in. Time wouldn’t have allowed for it, but it’s what I wanted more than anything in that moment.

I dry humped him like a flat-backing whore. He came back up for my mouth. I sucked on his lip, just like I wanted to do his cock. Then I bit it. I bit it hard. He growled and I let go as his body tensed against mine. He went for my neck. He licked it. He slithered his tongue over my throat so that his teeth would have a slick place to land and sink in. I wanted to cum. He bit my neck. He bit it hard. I pulled at the back of his t-shirt when his teeth sank in. My cunt jerked and spat.

I was cock hungry.

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Apr 042014
 

bird

…But being outed by my Mother ain’t one.

I’ve always wondered what being outed was going to be like. I live in a small town. I felt like it was only a matter of time. Someone who knew me, who was also kinky, was going to find me on Fetlife. They’d stare, open-mouthed, at my profile, and then decide to crawl back into their kinkster hole. I was fine with that. The only reason you’re on a kink site is because you’re kinky, right?   … I ran out of fucks for those people a long time ago.

In my vanilla circles – There are numerous people that would guess that I’m kink-friendly. There are very few people, a close circle, who know the level of BDSM that I participate in. This circle knows that I’m a sex blogger. No one has ever asked for my moniker, so I’ve never given it up.

In my kink circles – I lead my local kink group. Everyone I meet through that process knows me on Fetlife. I give out my handle at cons. I’ve met some of my closest friends in my kink circles. They know me by my first, middle, and last names. They know more about how I feel than most of my family does. I can be myself with them.

How was I outed? I blame Facebook and my Mother. I’m serious. Those fuckers.

Facebook has that feature where it asks you if you know this person or that person. I had a family account, when I was still trying to pretend that I had a family. I’m figuring that maybe my profile either popped up or my nosy Mother was signed into my sister’s account when she tried to friend The Sin Doll on Twitter.

When I found out that my family knew, I was advised by another sex blogger of my choices. It basically came down to; The Sin Doll could vanish. Or I could say, “Fuck it.” Every picture, every thought, and every story tumbled in my head. I’d like to say the decision was easy, but the tumbling was like rocks.

Through conversation and realization, I now know what I do isn’t going to change any relationship I have with anyone I care about. I don’t know who it will even surprise. And I don’t like the alternative. I don’t want to disappear. I’ve been here for four years. It’s going to take more than some low-down fuckery to do away with The Sin Doll.

I come from a very church-oriented family. Good Baptist people. The kind that are in the pews every time the doors are open. Sunday morning, Sunday night, and Wednesday evenings. They pay their tithes, but on Tuesday-Saturday they gossip, drink their beer, jack off to porn, beat their kids, and even use fake internet names to spy on their family.

So, Mom

Enjoy the reading.

Y’all will have a ton to talk about come Sunday.

~The Sin Doll

 

I’ve got to thank @Mollysdailykiss and @DomSigns for taking the time with me during “damage control,” and also helping me to process my feelings during all this. Y’all rock.

 

elust