Britches-n-Prose

Recently I have been talking about a Navy Boy, we shall call this boy KC.

I met KC about seven years ago on a trip to Pensacola, Florida with my best friend and her family. It was never my intent to meet any boys while on this vacation, at the ripe age of 16 I still held my v-card and had no clue how to suck a cock.

KC and I crossed paths one afternoon when my friend flaunted herself in front of his room mate, how gorgeous he was running down the beach, sweat running down his perfectly tanned and toned body…and I’m carried away. Anyway, upon following him into the beach condo he called home we were both pleased to find an additional three men, all equally as gorgeous, all bearing Navy garb.

Having an instant crush on the roommate with the accent, we’ll call him George, I didn’t give KC much thought. I really do owe George a lot, the man taught me to give the head I give today, and I’m pretty sure I give damn good head. My most memorable moments from this encounter were “suck on it like a tootsie-pop” and “shake it like a coke bottle.” These don’t have to make sense to anyone but me, and I rarely give a blow job without thinking of one of these tips.

Shortly after our suck-fest I was quickly reminded that men are complete d-bags, even the cute ones with accents. George informed me that while my blow job skills were better than his girlfriend’s, she was in fact coming to visit the next day, so I was going to have to pretend none of the past few hours had happened. LAME. It was upon leaving the condo that night that I noticed KC.

The rest of the week was kind of an amazing blur, like the kind you would see in a chic-flick. I remember drinking a lot of booze for 16.  I remember Hurricane Isabel was making its way to shore, bringing with it big waves and jelly fish.

One evening right before sunset we were all playing in waist deep water when a HUGE wave came crashing into the five of us standing there. Coming up for air I instantly realized I no longer had a suit top on. GASP! I dropped into the water, cringing a little and wondering how the hell I would get home without a top. As if KC read my mind, or had been watching me the whole time, he came to my rescue. Sweeping me up in his arms he covered and carried me back to the house, kissing my forehead and blessing me with a shirt and shorts to walk home in. Words do not give that story justice. Girls don’t get rescued out of the ocean by a Navy man, who kisses your forehead and makes sure you get home clothed.

The next day wasn’t so magical. I got stung by a jellyfish, on the outside of my leg, where I couldn’t pee on it to feel better. KC to the rescue. Yeah, he peed on me. Yeah, it felt good. Yeah, I used my new found BJ skills on him in his shower. Love.

On our final night together KC too me on a real date, but before I could be seen in public for dinner I had to get a dress. KC handed me some cash, gave my friend and I the keys to his car and told us to find me something nice, and boy did I!

Weeks like this do not exist, but I was fortunate enough to have one. I sometimes wish I could have met him a couple years later, when we surely would have fucked, and fucked good. Which reminds me, I should write my smut version of this story, the only way the week would have been better…

These fond memories are some I wont quickly forget, and since reconnecting with him all I can do is smile.

I had just ditched my headache that had been brewing for days, and I was looking for something fun to do when I got a Direct Message (DM) from @erosunbound; “Shame I’m over the other side of the atlantic, as I’d very much like to play there’s always twitter, I guess.” This got me thinking, so I proposed a little Twitter fun “Let’s co-write some smut. You write, I write, you, me etc, then I’ll post the results on my blog. Let’s see what we can do in an hour!!! Go!”

Here is what we wrote (my additions are in italics) :

Walking into your room after my shower, I find you with a tight fitting top and jeans: my favourite. I spot a look in your eye…

I’d put on the top knowing you couldn’t resist it, knowing you’d be naked, wet, and vulnerable with only your towel around your waist…

Smiling hungrily, I let the towel fall. Walking over, taking your head and kissing you hard on the lips; hands down to hold your tight ass

My ass tightens with the your grip, opening my mouth, your tongue slides between my lips, taking it deeper as my hand slides over your cock.

Hardening in your hands, mine move around to your stomach, then push inside your top, lifting it until they find, close around, your breasts

I feel my nipples harden with your touch, you cock now pulsing to capacity. I give you that look begging you to take off my top…

Smiling, pulling your top up and over your head, hands brushing nipples as I go. Then mouth moves in on your exposed breast, tongue circling

I moan without control. Every flick of your tongue sends heat down to my clit, I can feel it pulsing, wetness slipping down my pussy lips.

mouth closes around your nipple, sucking it in, then flicking over it. The tip of my cock, hard in your hands, pushes up against your jeans

I release your cock, pulling my nipple from your suction I bend down, tossing my jeans aside. Coming up my mouth finds your cock.

Groaning as you slide your wet lips over me. I pick you up, lie you on the bed, cock still in yr mouth, then start to finger you as you suck

Your finger slides easily into my wet pussy, curling up to my g-spot on the way out. I can taste your precome, rubbing it all over my lips..

Pushing a second finger inside, sliding in your juices, as my thumb presses your clit. Other hand wanking myself slowly as you lick/suck me

You rub me faster, more pressure, my body squirms, my mouth moaning over your cock. An explosion of cum coming from my cunt…

pulling my fingers, covered in you, up to my mouth – tasting your cum. Your mouth is taking my cock to the edge, but I want your pussy…

You quickly pull out of my mouth, push your cock deep into me. My back arching gives you room to slide deeper as you press my shoulders down

Pushing down, sliding in so deep: you’re so wet, but so tight. Starting to thrust hard and fast, pounding into you. Feeling my cum rise…

I beg you to keep going, feeling your cock swell up, I can tell you’re close, I keep begging, keep thrusting. You keep pushing…deep…

holding back, enjoying being so deep in you – hands digging into your shoulders, pressing. changing angle slightly, wanting you to cum again

My pussy clenches around your cock, we’re both so close, I’m almost crying now for you to keep going. I scream, coming on your clean skin.

the clenches,your pleas are too much: as you clamp around me, I thrust hard and deep, and explode inside you, filling you, feeling you shake

You collapse on to my body, cock still inside me. We lay shaking on each other…I breathe in the smell, and giggle. Shower time?

grinning, chuckling, covered in your cum and sweat… yeah, I think a shower would be good

If you ask her mom she’ll tell you the story about how her daughter was “swimming” ever since she was old enough to control her movements. As a little girl she’d use a blanket, not knowing what was happening, just knowing it felt good. When she was old enough her mother took her aside and asked her if she knew what she was doing, she said no. Her mother asked her if she did it because it felt good, and she said yes. Her mother then revealed to her the name of what she was doing, masturbating.

At first she was a little ashamed. Her mom had caught her in her dirty secret she didn’t even know should be a secret, until it was given a name. Who else knew? She’d been doing it her whole life. Would she stop? Should she stop?

As the years went by she kept at it, graduating from baby blankets to hand massagers from Walgreens. On her 18th birthday she bought her first toy and that was the beginning of something good. The turning point came in college when she started working at an adult store, employee discounts and $1 rentals nearly “ruined” her, and taught her how to always get an orgasm, and how to squirt.

Which brings her to today. She’s laying face down, naked in our bed. Her hair is up in a messy bun, she must have just gone straight to the bedroom from work or her hair would be flowing free down her back. As I walked closer to the bed I noticed a small white and pink blanket between her legs, the lips of her pussy were opened slightly, glistening with a layer of fresh come. She was asleep but I knew I had to have her.

I slowly undid my belt and pants, letting them fall quietly at my feet. Climbing onto the bed I knew I had to be in her before she woke up and rolled over, ruining the moment, and the perfection of her body. She awoke with my first thrust, deep into her with a moan and a shake. She giggled as I kissed the back of her neck. Raising up off of her she rolled onto her back, looking into her blue eyes I knew we were going to need some new sheets when we were done…

While I was at work one day recently a chat popped up on my screen: “Pick: long/skinny, short/fat, medium/ribbed.” I was stuck staring at my screen, feeling my whole body getting warmer, the real question, was I more flushed with arousal or with embarrassment?

I made my decision but was given no more details, no matter how much I pleaded, begged, or threatened (I said I was going to withhold blow jobs).  He wouldn’t even give me a hint of which hole was going to benefit from this rash decision. I began thinking about the possibilities, I had hoped it was something for my ass, my lover knew I had been working on stretching it out to make room for his huge cock.

About a week later I felt a buzz on my phone, an email, from him, it’s subject “Look What I Found in the Mail.” I felt a jolt of pure pleasure run down my back, arching it a little, which was out of my control and oh so good. I looked around, making sure I would have a private moment to enjoy the picture that was sure to be in the email, thankful suddenly for technology and instant gratification. When the picture finally loaded the jolt turned into full arousal, it was a cockring dildo, double penetration was all I could think about.

He hung on to the toy for a couple of weeks, waiting for the perfect time to use it. Knowing he had this toy in his possession, but wouldn’t let me play with it only made me more frustrated. He told me I had to be good, I had to stretch out my ass and earn the right to play with the toy.

Last weekend we planned on taking the whole weekend, no plans, other than to fill my ass. I hoped that the work I’d been doing would earn me the right to get the double fill, and wouldn’t you know, it did.

The toy was a great addition to our weekend of fuck. He filled my pussy with his hard cock, kept rock solid by the dildo cock ring, and filled my ass with the nice sized ribbed dildo (by the way, I picked the medium/ribbed toy).

We did have some trouble getting the dildo to stay in my ass then I was on top, but it was easy for me to hold it in there an bounce. When he flipped me around and fucked me from behind the dildo slid in and out with ease. I could feel every inch of him inside me, making every hair on my head stand on end.

This toy was worth the wait, and the work.

Open for Business by Alison Tyler

Alison Tyler was gracious enough to send me a copy of her book Open for Business, I’m very glad she did.

This book was exactly what I expected, and all that I wanted. I have a fantasy associated with office escapades so it was great to read stories written by other people who have the same idea. One of my favorite stories was about a temp and a window washer, how hot would that be to show a stranger parts of you, through a window on the 30th floor? No touching, just looking with your eyes, controlling the situation, knowing you’re driving the bulge under his jeans…

Since I work in and office it was easy to put myself into many of the situations, which is something I like about erotic books. In this book there were some stories that I could only wish would have been me sitting bare-ass on the desk. The stories are easy to read, so take a lunch break, or a smoke break and get yourself off with one of these stories.

Having sex with your ex, is it a good idea? Bad idea? What happens if you have great sex? What happens if you have bad sex?

I recently had sex with my ex. We had dated and lived together, then had a messy break-up. While together we had great sex, it was the first bring me out of my shell, slap my ass, tie me up, fuck me hard sex.

Within a year of breaking up I had a weak moment, and we had sex, it was scary. He mean-fucked me, making me feel like some sort of object that needed to be punished for some sort of wrong doing (he always blamed the break-up on me). I didn’t know what to do in the middle of it, it didn’t feel good, I wasn’t getting off, our safeword wasn’t working, I just couldn’t wait for it to be done. Once it was I was bummed, we’d been so amazing before, what happened? Why did the break-up cause such a BIG difference in our sexual escapades? I had no answers, and really I didn’t care to think about it anymore.

Fast forward two more years (present day) and I found myself again with my ex in my bedroom, on my bed, beckoning me to join him, forgetting my previous bad experience I complied.

He ordered me to take of my shirt, complying, I lifted my shirt over my head…wondering what was going to happen next I was lost in my own thoughts when I was interrupted by his voice:

“Wow, those things got bigger.”

And with that I started laughing, and not just a sexy giggle, but hysterically laughing. I couldn’t stop. Who says that? His eyes looked like those of a kid in a candy store. I realized in the moment that he may have had the upperhand last time, but this time was going to be mine. Rather than physically “punish” him I was going to make him see how good I was. I was going to make him want what he couldn’t have, and I was going to feel damn good about it.

I recently submitted this to a contest on Allison Tyler’s blog, the theme was S&M, I hope you enjoy it.

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Missing Cuffs

He had my shirt over my head, but I could hear him digging through our “red box” by the bed. I knew he was looking for the wrist cuffs, I knew they wouldn’t be there.

“Missing a few pieces are we?”

I didn’t answer, an answer meant a fight, silence meant…

“No matter.” He left me on the bed just for a moment. I had no idea where he went, instantly regretting I had put down a rug the week before.

Returning I felt something silky slide across my erect nipples, a scarf, he was resourceful, and fast, I was tied up in what felt like a second.

I was already on my stomach so he pulled my ass up to his hips, running his fingers over the now white skin (I knew would be red soon enough).

“You know you shouldn’t have lost those cuffs.”

I felt the leather tassels of the whip hit my ass before I even heard anything. The warmth spreading up my back to my tits, giving them goose bumps. The whip came down again, and again, until I felt both his warmth and pressure inside of me.

I knew better than to fight it, he collapsed on me as we both moaned and cried, both riveting from the explosion.

He removed my shirt and kissed my mascara-smeared face.

I always knew those Boy Scout life lessons in knot making would come in handy someday, maybe the cuffs will just never turn up.