Risky Buisness, The “10 Foot High Club”

Now, I have never really done anything like this in publicly before.  I mean a peck on the check was about as intense as I get.  Well the drive in… but we were in a car the whole time with very little risk of being seen.

I am a proud member of the 10 Foot High Club.  It may even be 12 feet high since I was standing on the toilet at the time.  I’m not exactly sure; I didn’t have a ruler on me.

My friend (and sometimes master) and I needed to take an early train from San Diego to Oxnard to go get my new car.

Well… let me back up a bit.

So, the rule is that I must suck my Master’s cock before I get out of bed.  When we wake up at 5 am and have to catch a train it ends up being a torturous tease for us both.

We got on the train and we were both super horny.  He looked like he had a large pipe in his pants and I was dripping.

We got on and sat down… there wasn’t anyone near us.  He had me feeling his cock through his pants.  His shirt was unbuttoned part way and I was instructed to play with his nipple with his tongue.

Sir felt I needed more exposure.

He was driving me wild.  He pulled his cock out in and instructed me to suck it.  I was so nervous.  What if we got caught and got kicked off the train?  I didn’t really have a choice.  I sucked him and played with him until we came into the next station.  More people got on and he put it away, but had me rubbing him and playing with his nipple as people walked by.  It was humiliating; nerve wracking, and very stimulating.

No one really “saw” us, but I think the conductor had a fairly good idea what we were up to.

We changed seats at one point because some annoying person sat next to us and they were talking on the phone in their loud Fran Dresher voice.

More and more people kept getting on the train.  By now it was about 8:00 and we were still both unsatisfied and hornier than ever.

He instructed me to sit up. He had more in store for me than just serving him.  He slipped his hand down my pants and shoved his finger up my ass.  He finger fucked my ass until I begged for permission to cum (which was very difficult to do without all the people around knowing I was having an orgasm).  I obviously couldn’t squirt because then I’d get myself and the seats all wet so I had to hold it in.

That didn’t calm the desire, it made it worse.  I needed to feel his cock inside of me and he was still as hard as a lead pipe needing to use me like only he can.

We played around some more until he instructed me to find a nice place to get fucked hard.

I knew that on the bottom level of trains there are these large disabled bathrooms, but they also have these nice little lounges with a bathroom off to the side.  I decided to hunt down an out of the way lounge.  I found one and reported back.

We “happened” to meet up in there.  He had me kneel on the toilet while he used my pussy for his pleasure, fucking me long and deep until he came HARD, exploding into my wet pussy, making me cum with pleasure at feeling his cum inside of me.

We both them went up quite satisfied and took a nice nap.  I’m sure the conductor was happy we had taken care of business so we weren’t all over each other at our seats.

Couch Sex

I love couch sex! I mean, I love chair sex, I love bed sex, I love chaise lounge sex, I love standing up while doing the laundry sex, I love outdoor on the hood of the car sex, I love every time I bend over sex. I guess I just love sex.

There is something special about couch sex though. Dean says it’s because he can push off of the arm of the couch. I think that it helps that I can prop my leg on the wall so then my right hand can roam around my nipples, his nipples, his neck, and hair.  Maybe both… no matter the reason it’s always amazing. My couch cushions gets more washed then any other item in my house. I might have to invest in Spot Shot stock because I go through it cleaning the squirt out of the cushions (sorry anyone who comes over to visit).

Every time we are sitting on the couch it turns into business time. This is the best place for him to finger me while I blow him. The best place for him to play with my nipples while we are watching TV. The best place for him to prop up my hips and fuck my ass hole as I squirt all over him. It’s a magical place!

Another thing I love about the couch is that we can look at ourselves in the reflection of the window across from the couch. I never thought I would enjoy looking at a reflection of myself but somehow my thighs wrapped around his hips and back while he is pounding in and out is a turn on. I also like seeing how my breasts jiggle and sway every time he bottoms out. It’s kind of exhibitionism and voyeurism in one!

A few weeks ago, I discovered that if he bends me over the arm then I can lean on my elbows while he pounds me from behind. What’s amazing about this position is that my legs will come up and then he can really plow into me. The orgasms are outstanding and I usually have to just make sure that there is nothing important in the splash zone. Truly amazing on the couch.

What’s your favorite place to get down and dirty?

Sex Addict? Or Worse?

Hello, my name is Angel Jezebel Rimmer and I quite possible could be a sex addict.

This is something I worry about.  If I am addicted to something I want to be aware of it. I don’t like addictions and I don’t want to have any. However, everyone is addicted to something.

So, after 10 guys in 5 days I admitted I was addicted to sex.  After I had accepted that, I started looking at things a little differently.  I started examining how I reacted, questioning what drove me to have sex, and basically analyzing myself.  What I found was not good. I wasn’t addicted to sex, I was addicted to something far worse. Why can’t I do things the simple way?

Hello, my name is Angel Jezebel Rimmer and I am addicted to the feeling of being wanted.

Now being a sex addict, that is kinda cool, kinky, you know, a great turn on.  Telling people, “I just want to be wanted”… well that is lame, pathetic, and loser-ish.  Why can’t I ever be cool?

I don’t want to feel like I need to feel wanted! I want to be independent, free from the shackles of society, flying like a bird way from needing anything except what I can provide all by myself.  I don’t want to desire to feel wanted!

Yet, unfortunately that is what I deeply want and will go to crazy lengths just to feel for a moment.  I know friends, family, and co-workers want me, yet there is something so dangerously fulfilling to be wanted by a man.

That passionate desire driving a man wild and erect just at the thought of seeing you.

The little texts about how your day is going to someone who cares and wants to hold you close.  I found that a text from someone wanting me was just as fulfilling as sex.  If I got a text from someone that wanted me, then I wasn’t empty. However, if I didn’t get one then I felt empty, useless.

I need to somehow find a way to overcome this addiction if I am ever going to become the independent person I want to be.

But if it’s getting a fuck or a text it is nice to know I am at least wanted for something.

A Buddist, A Blowjob, and A Haircut

When I was at the peak of my whorish ways I would basically fuck any guy who had the luck to view my online dating profile. I had quickly gone from The Chef (Is That a Crock-pot?) to 8 different guys in a matter of a month or so. I realize this is slow for some people but considering that exactly a year ago I was a virgin I was feeling pretty badass. There was a point at which I realized that I could not continue in this vein…and the reason I gave up sleeping with any dick that vaguely interested was because of a strange night with a strange guy that had a very strange ending.

It started as most online dating website encounters start…. In this case, I use “dating website” loosely since it was mostly a “I’m lonely right now and am looking for a one night stand for this very minute” website. He contacted me, asked if I was interested via a few hours of vigorous flirting. Eventually photos were exchanged, there was probably a penis picture but of course excuses about shrinkage due to being camera shy or cold weather or something other extraneous reason.

He came over that night and seemed nice enough. He was mid-thirties, recently divorced, loved to kiss and cuddle. We made out for a long time on the couch. He was a decent kisser and put effort into making me feel sexy, which was appreciated. Then it took a turn for the worse, we went into the bedroom and he dropped trou, I should have looked at the penis picture that he sent more carefully. He was about as big as my thumb and I might have looked shocked…remember I recently was doing a 9 inch dick so this size was surprising. However despite the diminutive size I still blew him to the best of my ability. He grew a little, maybe three fingers width, not even a handful. As he was about to cum he pushed me off and yelled, “Stop! If I cum in your mouth I will never be able to kiss you again.”  I was stunned as he ran to the bathroom to cum and I laid mostly undressed on the bed.

He returned and asked how I wanted to climax. I didn’t want to pull out the 7  ½ inch dildo, as I thought that might be salt in a wound about his size. So I got my Lelo egg vibe and let him work it on my clit until I came. This is when things got weird. In my post-climax haze, he asked if I could give him a haircut, I have given a lot of haircuts before but never to a guy without a set of clippers. I told him this and he insisted that I could not be worse then the people at Sports Clips. I agreed to cut his hair, in the same way that people agree to meet up for dinner sometime soon… saying so but not really planning on it in the near or distant future.

We got up and I was ready to show him to the door. He put on most of his clothes and then called his rehab sobriety partner. He told her about what just happened between us, while I was in the room! He hung up with her and then preceded to answer a bunch of texts giving me a short list of all of friends who are still drug addicts and texting him. He then told me about all of the drugs he has tried and encouraged me to try as many as possible, but not caffeine because it wasn’t “natural”. I had decided earlier that I didn’t want to make this a repeated experience; it was at this point that I decided that I was probably done hooking up with people from Plenty of Fish. I can only wish that it had ended there. Somewhere in his manic description about how DTM took him to heaven and changed his life I realized that he might currently be high…In my defense, we did very little talking before we started making out so there wasn’t a lot of chance to appraise his mental state.

I got up to show him out and he assumed this meant that I was ready to cut his hair. So he sat in the kitchen and told me how he wanted his hair cut and styled. I didn’t know how to renege on my previous agreement to cut his hair so I got out my hair cutting scissors and got to work. I have never clipped and cut so fast. Unfortunately it was not fast enough to avoid him trying to convert me to his special brand of Buddhism and tell me about how Buddhism has helped him get past hating his abusive father. I began to think that if he didn’t leave soon I would be forced to start doing drugs to survive (or forget) this encounter. Without crosschecking my work, I showed him out and promised to see him soon. I know it was coward’s way out but I was in self-preservation mode.

When he texted the next day I pretended it was the wrong number and made sure his phone number is under the “Don’t respond to” label in my contact groups. Horrible, I know, but this one was an extreme circumstance.

A Cluster-Fuck… And Not In The Good Way

So, when I saw his picture I about drowned in my own wetness because his is an Adonis.  He had viewed me on the online dating site, and as with anyone I’m even vaguely interested in, I messaged him a hopeless “Hey” and he amazingly replied! I was my blatant, honest self and said that I needed to deep throat someone and swallow some hot cum and asked if would he be interested.

This usually scares away the young kids, as does my weight.  Umm… it didn’t, he wanted to hook up and get dom-ed by a BWW.  Ok, fine by me…

Now, I’m not a cougar by any means.  I like the older guys. He was younger (10 years), but so, so, so hot.  I thought I’d try it out.

When he arrived and he wanted to come in and chat for a minute before I started to dom him (WTF was I going to chat about, let’s just fuck already!).  I beered him up and we talked about this being his first time sub-ing.  I discussed some ground rules and helped him set some boundaries.

I didn’t tell him I’d never dom-ed before….Shhh. So, we started in and it went really well in the living room.  He was having fun, I was being all dom-ie.  Then we took it into the bedroom and I kinda tied his arms down (not so tight he couldn’t escape if he needed to which ended up being a very good thing).

We played. I drove his cock wild, then I said that he had to earn a good, long, deep-throating by licking me until I came all over his face.

Remember that I’m a squirter, and I DID ask him if he had ever had one before, and if I could force him to lick me ‘til I came.

So, I was fucking his face which he had expressed an interested in earlier. Then I squirted and that is when the horror started.  Apparently he had been with a dripper, not a “fire hose” as he called it later.

I kinda drowned him and he started chocking so I got off him quickly. He ran and kind of puked in the sink. Awesomely romantic.

I felt horrid.  What a horrible dom to almost kill the sub. But I gotta say that I didn’t know he hated it. I thought that was what he wanted.

Well, he definitely earned his blow job. We went back in the bedroom and I blew him and rode him and squirted all over his body. I didn’t think that would be gross to him.  It wasn’t in his mouth. He was just perplexed and said how he didn’t know it was possible for a female to do that.  (See parents, this is what happens if you don’t let your kids watch a lot of porn!) We quickly got up and went to the shower.  I must say I stifled myself and didn’t squirt as much as I could.  I already felt like enough of a freak.

He said he didn’t think he could get up again, but I got him up again in the shower and took him back to the bedroom for a blow.  Now, generally I’m a good blower.  Somehow though he saw blood from somewhere and stopped the blow to examine. I think it might have been my tongue or maybe his cock (I found out later it was my tongue, not his cock). I’m usually very good about sheathing my teeth though. He hunted around and we couldn’t find the spot.  I told him no matter what he couldn’t stop, even if I was bleeding to death.

So we started again. He was fucking my face nice and deep. When I gagged he stopped right away, concerned about if I was OK and then he wanted to know what was happening.

I had to stop and tell him that it was called gagging. that gagging is what made the cock so nice and slippery, and most guys found gagging on a cock to be a compliment and super sexy (I don’t know why but I’ve heard “Oh, I want you to gag on my cock.” more than once).

Then, I went back to blowing.  By this time I just wanted to get through it. I mean he was cute and had a hot body, but fuck, I’m not teaching sex ed.  I don’t want to keep stopping because someone is puking or freaking out or wants a mini-lesson on gagging or squirting. I’ll create a fucking PowerPoint presentation next time.

He finished up and lay there discussing the finer points of what a female orgasm is, and squirting, and why, and what and fuck. Why do kids have to be inquisitive?!? We discussed that there should be an app on the website to mark if the girl was a squirter and the quantity from moist sprinkling to fire hose levels.

It was fun, but I knew from the first puke I’d never see him again.

As he left he said “Well, that was an experience.” Just what I wanted to be… “an experience”.

I hate being a squirter!

Red State Sex

This seems particularly topical in light of the impending elections.

The boyfriend, Dean, loves politics. Not a little, but a lot, a whole lot! I had cable during the primary elections so Dean came over to watch… nothing like watching MSNBC to speed up his libido. I teased Dean that it’s nice to have a boyfriend who only wants to have a threesome with Anderson Cooper, to which he replied, “He’s not nearly liberal enough, I’d prefer Rachel Maddow.” with an entirely straight face.

We had sex early in the evening, which was wonderful as usual. Then, as I was recovering in post-coital bliss he opened up the laptop to check how the propositions were doing statewide. Unfortunately the cigarette sales tax was losing so we had to have consolation sex to improve his outlook on the state of the union.

After a time, we went into the living room and were catching up on the mainstream media’s perspective of how the primaries were going nationally and statewide.  As per usual, while watching television, I ended up with his dick in my hand and then in my mouth. He was sitting on the couch and I was on my knees in front of him. The TV was muted and I noticed when I coyly looked up at him for approval that he was paying attention to it and not to me sucking him off. I popped his dick out of my mouth and said, “Are you watching TV on mute?” To which he sheepishly replied that he had been. I sarcastically said, “Well if you’re going to watch it you might as well turn up the volume.” He did not seem to understand that what I said was positively dripping with sarcasm and said, “Ok, great! It’s hard to read the captions and pay attention to you.” Quite bold really with his family jewels so close to my teeth. I rolled my eyes and muttered, “Yeah you’re doing a great job paying attention to me.” My enthusiasm for the blowie was quite diminished at the thought of coming in a distant second to Prop 29’s outcome.

Needless to say, that would have probably been the end of Dean and I’s relationship, however, I think the sarcasm finally seeped into his brain or he finally noticed that I was no longer servicing him and he abruptly turned off the TV and proceeded to fuck me very well indeed. Granted, soon after cleaning the cum off of my chest he went right back to watching the minute-by-minute coverage. Also needless to say, tomorrow I will be watching with friends instead of him.

How do I find out if I’m bi?

I love cock! I really love it, the pleasing shape, the way it feels in so many places, the smoothness of it as it lunges deep into my mouth. The firmness pressing up against me, pounding me…

So, you get the idea… I love cock, but just like everyone else in the world, (whether they admit it or not) I’ve thought about doing a little exploration with a female.

Now the idea of vagina doesn’t really appeal to me… but I don’t know…maybe. It’s not like I’ve tried it.  If it looked like mine I’d run away in horror… but, I’m still interested in exploring.

But… How does one go about it???
I mean, I may hate it! So I want to do it with someone I trust, who won’t pressure me, and won’t feel rejected if I’m not “into” it. That list of requirements leaves out any hook-up sites.

I DEFINITELY don’t want to do it with anyone I know. So that leaves out all my friends.

I feel like I’m in a catch 22.

I feel the safest way is to try a 2 girl 3-some with a guy friend and just see what happens…

Who knows?

Any suggestions?

Well…that was…awkward…

It started with a text. It ended far more awkwardly.

“Bend you over my bed and ram my hard cock into your tight pussy. Back and forth slamming it and out while I pull on you hair and spank your ass making it red. Then have you bounce up and down on my dick while I suck and bite those big titties. Then titty fuck you until I shoot a load of hot white cum all over your face and tits.

Fast forward to a few days later when my boyfriend, Dean, and I got together. I showed up at his house. He answered the door in a towel. I went inside and we embraced as per usual. Then I bent over to look at his fish tank. He recently set it up and I love aquariums. Apparently when I bend over anything that’s his cue to start sexy time….it happens a lot. He bent over me and started kissing my neck and ear lobe, which gets me wet in no time flat. Then he rubbed my ass vigorously as he began to prepare it for the quick slaps that I enjoy so much. Soon my clothes were on the floor and he was entering my dripping pussy from behind. We fucked as I watched the water in the fish tank slosh back and forth.

Soon we moved to his bedroom. He laid me down and my ass was on the very edge on his bed. He re-entered me and began thrusting deeply again. He does magical things with the fingers while in this position. I started squirting on his dick and thighs. He got the squirt towel and we moved further onto the bed. After some not so sexy positioning with a pillow and the squirt towel he pushed his hard dick into my vagina once again. He bent over me and started to lick and bite my nipples, which makes me squirt like a fire hydrant. After a few minutes of this he pulled out and got the coconut oil which means one thing….anal.

Instead of the usual, which is when we start on all fours and then eventually flip over on my back while he is plowing the back 40. He smeared the coconut oil in and around my anus. Then he slathered it on his rigid dick. He guided his dick into my ass and as he thrusted in balls deep he grabbed both of my hands to hold… he’s a big fan of holding hands during sex. He was perfect, the perfect depth, the perfect speed, the perfect amount of umph, that extra push, at the end of each thrust. Very soon both of us came in a rush of fluids.

Fast forward about 4 hours, after a movie and an amazing blow job. I laid on my stomach on his bed and Dean came in and snuggled with me. He ended up laying on top of me which is a new. I love it when he spoons me and nuzzles my neck. He has been doing this thing in which he kisses, bites, and then “grrrs” on that soft spot right behind my ear. It’s heavenly! I also get so hot and bothered when he does it. Soon he was rubbing my entire body. I told him that he needed to take care of me since he was responsible for my turned on state.  He quickly applied himself to getting me off.

I was on my knees, shoulders on the bed and my hands massaging my nipples. He started playing with my clit. He quickly inserted a few fingers and was working my g-spot exactly how I like it with the fingers…hard, deep, and quick. He bent down to begin rimming me and then it happened… I came and I came hard. Unfortunately, when all of my muscles contracted ALL of my muscles contracted. I squirted which he enjoys but I squeezed out a huge fart. I was mostly mortified because his face could not have been any closer to my loose anus and let’s face it farts are at best unheard and unsmelled. This was definitely not the former and probably not the latter. That pretty much killed the mood for me. He was a perfect gentleman and assured me that it was because of the anal earlier, that it was completely his fault for pushing air up there with the hard anal, and that it was absolutely smell free. Very sweet of him, but also did not make me any less embarrassed. When he was cuddling and whispering reassurances about how I fart rainbows and unicorns all I could think about was how I wished I had eaten less cauliflower over the last few days. Next time, oral first… then anal.

More Buttah!

I lovingly refer to my boyfriend as Dean in this blog. This is the story about how that pseudonym came to be.

When we first started dating we were fairly randy. If my backside presented itself to him at any occasion he would grab it and then grind on it. If it happened to be in a secluded or slightly secluded or barely secluded spot then he would pull down my pants and pleasure me with his hand or dick. This is all well and good. Until it gets interrupted… leaving him with blue balls and me with a very wet underroos.

We were sexing it up in the garage (nothing novel about that) and a friend, AJ, came for dinner. We seem to have this problem often (A Comedy of Errors). This time the garage door did not open and we managed to get dressed and outside with minimal problems.

We sat down to dinner and begin to eat. Aj and I on one side of the table and Dean sitting adjacent to me. Dean loves to hold hands. It is quite uncommon for him to go anywhere or do anything without reaching for my hand. Throughout dinner we were holding hands on and off as eating permitted.

About half way through the meal, AJ received a phone call that she needed to take and she left Dean and I to our own devices. Having been deprived of climax in the garage the hand holding quickly became my hand holding his erect dick. I was jerking him off with some verve and he started to chaff from the lack of lubrication. He suggested that I suck him off and I suggested that we use ranch dressing. After chuckling about the idea of using a condiment for lube, our eyes simultaneous alighted on the butter sitting innocently on the table. We looked at each other like two little kids who found something they knew they weren’t supposed to touch but couldn’t resist. I took a pat and melted it my hand. Then lovingly started giving him the best butter hand job of his life. This continued for about 10 minutes while AJ talked to her family in the next room. She hung up and noisily entered the room. Giving Dean enough time to pull his shirt over his fully erect flagpole and for us to both look faintly like we got caught with our hand in the cookie jar….or somewhere else it didn’t belong.

AJ sat down and began to tell us all about the happenings in the Rimmer family and I focused on avoiding Dean’s gaze and trying not to drip melted butter all over the floor since my hand was covered it in. AJ was elaborating about something and I snuck a gaze at Dean. He looked hard at me and then at his dick that he had pulled back out into the open. We didn’t say a word but silently agreed that AJ wouldn’t notice if I subtly continued to pull on his member. She was leaning back in her chair, I was leaning forward and the way the dishes and table was arranged I was fairly certain that she couldn’t see. I started slowly stroking him making sure that my upper body wasn’t moving at all. I am sure at some point I lost the subtly consideration but I continued to stroke him through the rest of the meal. AJ continued to talk and Dean focused on not groaning out loud and I gave all my attention to getting Dean off and keeping AJ talking about her family.

When everyone had finished eating, Dean was almost finished as well. Before he could shoot his load under the table, AJ suddenly stood up and started gathering dishes to put away. I have never seen Dean move so quickly. He shot up and turned around to tuck himself back in and zip up. Safety is a concern when penis skin and metal zippers are in close proximity. I was thoroughly amped up from the exhibitionist adrenaline and covered from forearm down in butter. I also cleared the table and after dinner we said a quick good bye to AJ.

As soon as I heard her car leave the driveway, I pushed him towards the couch and took out his semi-hard cock once again. I have to say that it was the most interesting blowie that I’ve ever given because the only thing I could taste or smell was butter. I love butter, but this was extreme even for me. It was like sucking down an entire stick of butter over and over again. He came in my mouth and I swallowed his buttery flavored cum. After we had taken a shower and were cuddling, he gave me a squeeze, kissed my forehead and said that I would have made Paula Dean proud.

Wow! I’ve Never Done THAT Before!

Wow! I’ve Never Done THAT Before

If you didn’t read Where it All Began you may be a bit lost.  So, here is a quickie (I’m good at those…hehehe) rundown of the Main Idea so you don’t have to waste precious seconds. After 11 years of marriage a 10-minute hook up showed me I could squirt. (Well, there is more to it than that, but I’ll save that for another blog.)

So, after learning I could squirt I decided to have some fun.  Some guys, especially guys that fuck me, usually are lacking in confidence.  We were using each other for quick casual sex and I had no intention of being with this myriad assortment of cock for more than 2-3 times.

On top of the fun of the casual sex, I thought I’d throw in a bit of a confidence boost for these guys. I “learned” for the first time how to squirt with each of these boys.

Subsequently, cocks #2-7 got to hear these words…

~ “Holy shit what are you doing to me? What just happened?”

~ “What? I squirted? I’ve never done that before! You must really know how to handle me.”

~ “Wow, you turned me SOooOoo much, you made me squirt for the first time ever!”

~ “I’m gonna cum! What’s happening, I just keep cumming all over! I’ve never done that before.”

~ “I’ve never done THAT before, that was the best fuck ever!”

~ “You are so amazing! I can’t believe you made me squirt for the first time!”

~ “I’m so sorry about your bed, carpet, couch, etc. Do you have any towels?”

Yeah, I might have been lying a little, but forever they can tell stories about the time that they made a girl squirt for the first time. Just call me Saint Jezebel.