johnny

November 30, 2007 — badinfluencegirl

i notice that i’m horny in the car on the way home.

shortly thereafter i realize that i’m alone in the back seat and that it’s dark in the car. then i catch on to the fact that the music is pretty loud.

that’s enough for me and in a trice my pants are undone and i’m licking my finger. my clit responds gratifyingly quickly and i only have to lick my finger twice before i’m making my own honey.

the smell of my arousal reaches my nostrils and i wonder if the others in the small space can smell me or have any idea what i’m doing. i very nearly hope so.

i take myself to the edge fast enough that i almost manage to come before we drop off our passenger. almost but not quite. i am quaking and feeling the throb deep within my being when we arrive at our passenger’s destination and i manage to hide my undone pants under my pile of stuff and my jacket as i switch to the front seat.

i even manage to do them back up without the driver noticing.

the rest of the way home i can hardly talk, lost in my own arousal i clasp my thighs together and cross and uncross my legs impatiently.

my hands are in my pants again as soon as i’m in the lobby of my own building and waiting for the elevator. i feel my sopping wet channel as i drop my body into the corner of the elevator and i’m almost disappointed when it arrives at my floor.

unlocking my door presents an unusual challenge.

i drop everything as i come in the door and barely manage to remove my coat and shoes before i’m on my bed with my legs splayed. i don’t even get my legs all the way on the bed before i’m gasping for breath and thrusting my mons into my rampaging finger.

the edge hits me fast and i feel little gushes leave my body which i use to coat my eager clit.  i consider grabbing an anal toy or a dildo but i can’t bear to stop rubbing myself for long enough to get something from a drawer at the other end of my bed.

i can hardly get my pants off enough to keep going, in fact i leave them hanging off one leg as my finger attacks my clit.

i’m gasping and groaning now, hips thrusting beyond my control and body arching and flexing. i can’t believe what’s happening to me, i’m gushing and having pre shocks all over myself. shocks strong enough to count as orgasms on lesser evenings but i know that i’m not there yet.

i gush and gush and gush again, quakes throbbing through me and deep guttural groans leaving my throat. it’s almost impossible to believe that such noises are issuing from me but they are.

i come shudderingly all over my hand and i feel myself spurt a different kind of fluid, the sheets beneath me soaked now so deeply that i can’t wait to bury my nose in them as soon as i can bear to stop touching myself.

my finger never ceases it’s frantic rush on my clit even as i come and flex deeply into the bed, my head and torso lifting at least a foot into the air as little bursts of fluid continue to fly out of my body.

i touch and touch even as i roll over and reach for johnny and a condom. i don’t really like silicone for dildos but i think that a non-latex condom and some lube will solve the problem.

i drop back to the bed with a gasp and tease my aching hole with the head of the giant black dildo. tease for only a second or two before i thrust gently into my waiting darkness.

there is resistance at first, i hold him as far as i can take him in and then pull him out and thrust again. i groan as his full length slides home and i begin to fuck myself in long slow strokes with nearly seven inches of firm silicone sheathed in slippery , wet covered polyurethane [don't use this lube on silicone without a condom.]

i’m crying out now, still frantically rubbing my achingly engorged clit as i speed up my driving thrusts and then i feel myself gush all over him as i shorten the thrusts and race them frantically.

his head slides against my g-spot and i come again and again as i slap the base of the dildo into myself and flex deeply into the bed, my honey covering the already slick dildo as i feel my pelvic floor grip the dong tightly and massage it’s length and i erupt and erupt again into my own pleasure.

eventually the orgasms slow down and spread apart and i collapse, itch scratched but not nearly sated enough as i play very gently with my clit to encourage little aftershocks to quiver through my body as i feel my pussy throb against the enormous toy buried as deeply as it will go in my eager vagina.

finally, some timeless span later i ease johnny from my body and feel my fluids follow him out. when i can bear to move i roll over and admire the saucer sized puddle that has soaked through to my sheet as i laugh ruefully and drag myself from the bed to go and feed my cat.

Posted in condoms, life, masturbation, sex, sex toys, war stories. 17 Comments »

whyfor…

November 28, 2007 — badinfluencegirl

sometimes i wonder why i do this anymore.

don’t worry, i’m not planning to stop.

it’s just that i started to do this because i was looking for my missing sex drive.

shut up, i can hardly believe i was her either but there it is.  i couldn’t understand how a woman of so many passions in such different areas could have so little interest in sex.

i mean i went a solid YEAR without masturbating even.  and no, i wasn’t getting any during that year, i was in fact getting nothing at all and i was okay with that.

sure i got horny once in a while, thought longingly about sex a little and then basically rolled over and grabbed a novel.

i had a lot of healing to do then, in body and mind and i had no idea how much more there was coming or where it would take me.

eventually i started to want a boyfriend and even then i didn’t go looking for sex, i just went looking for a man.

is it any wonder i didn’t find one?

anyway, at some point i started to think about what happened sexually in many of my previous relationships.  i wondered if it might be possible that the sex dying wasn’t only because the relationship was dying.

i began to wonder how someone who instigated so many things in her life could fail to instigate sexually.  i heard stories about lesbian bed death and realized that i had helped that to happen in my own long term relationships.

that wasn’t as true with my ex-husband actually, our relationship died either with or before our sex life… but otherwise it seemed pretty universal.

i wondered too how i could have been celibate for three years and have masturbated so little.  have yearned for sex so little.  have been horny so rarely.  have cared about those facts not at all.

how was it possible?

i love food and sports and life and people so much and yet there i was thinking sex was kinda messy?  not worth the energy?

what???

my sister gave me ‘sex for one’ and the like and i started to read bubblegum meltdown’s now disappeared blog and get sort of intrigued by her whole nympomaniac thing.

this sex thing sounded like the best thing since sliced bread when she talked about it.  heck it sounded BETTER than sliced bread even.

okay, i had to do something.  how did i not get what the fuss was about?

so i started to read dirty blogs (oh dirtyboy i am forever grateful to your dirty little mind… [her too in fact]) and to read and read and read them and then i started to masturbate to those self same blogs.

and then i went camping.

i went camping and i masturbated on a dock in full view of god and everyone and the entire time i was doing it i was telling dirtyboy the story in my head.

home i came and i wrote down said story and prepared to send it to him and then i realized.  why do that?  why not just start this blog instead?

so i did.

and i can’t believe the effect it’s had.

i feel like i’ve found myself here.  not just my sex drive although as you can see this was one of the later steps in the process… well that or maybe that lover i took to explore my newly discovered drive with…

i’ve found my feminine side and my sexual side and a lot of my personal power and confidence.  it’s all just blossomed.

and i know that a ton of that came from inside myself but somehow, somehow putting it out there made it ever so much more powerful than it ever could have been by itself.

maybe even just the part where i know someone is waiting for me to post again and i have to plumb the depths of my brain for something to write.

whether it’s a true story or a fantasy i’ve still had to dredge my brain to find it and that act alone has forced quintupled self and sexual awareness into myself.

quintupled.

i would never have worked this hard or looked so far if i hadn’t put it out there for strangers to read.

hunh…

i guess i’ve just answered my own question… one wonders what i will find next  :)

Posted in blogging, life, masturbation, random, sex, sex blogging, sex drive. 11 Comments »

want

November 25, 2007 — badinfluencegirl

i seem, these days, to exist in a state of want.

i want new boots. i want new jeans. i want that gorgeous 38″ flat screen monitor. but most of all? i just seem to want more.

i want more fucking even while i’m still fucking. even when i’m having a lovely ride i find myself, in advance, planning the next one. i, in short, want more while i’m still receiving.

this is a change from a month ago since at that point i was still gasping for breath and trying desperately to fit mr. big inside my recalcitrant vagina. i say recalcitrant because well, it was. there was protesting and groaning and general reluctant stretching to fit.

even after my little pussy finally stretched to receive his … offering and thoroughly enjoyed the fucking it received i need a recovery period. a rest period if you will. in fact, there was a little ‘under repair’ flag living on the lip of my entrance for many hours after shagging with the lovely man.

it was almost… dare i say it, cranky.

if you can be cranky and sexually satisfied at the same time that is.

but now? now? now i’m turning into little miss greedy guts. now i already want round two while i’m in the middle of round one!

what’s especially interesting about this is that sometimes, take last night as an example, i won’t be in the mood to start with.  there i was, happily watching the hockey and he got bored.

and you know what my lover does when he’s bored?

he plays with me.  he flirts with my skin and teases my inner thighs and traces a hand along my stomach until he’s bored again at which point he drags my bottoms off me and starts to snack.

i never did find out who won that game…

anyway i started out not particularly in the mood, in fact we were pretty sure we were going to sleep and then waking up for morning sex instead… and then?

oh yeah, all i wanted was to feel him inside me.

and while he was there?  i was already planning the next round!

so even when i start out not in it i end up in the same place.

the state of want.

*pauses for thought* in fact i’m going to jump him right now…

Posted in dating, fucking, life, random, sex, sex drive, vaginas, war stories. 10 Comments »

raindrops on roses…

November 19, 2007 — badinfluencegirl

there is this moment during sex.

well not so much during sex as during sex play actually. it’s in fact a pre-sex moment. one that hovers between foreplay and fucking and walks a fine fence as it sits there.

it doesn’t happen every time and it isn’t always delicious even when it does but when it’s good it’s sublime and when it’s not good it’s still there all filled with tacit promise* and expectation.

my favourite of these moments always involve me being a sloppy mess already. puddle under my bum and quivering pussy from masterful cunnilingus and probing fingers.

contended glow on my face and the gentlest sheen on my skin as i lie, itch scratched but rarely satisfied, in waiting for my lover to join me.

it’s especially nice when he’s effectively ready as i finish that first round of receiving the strokes of an eager tongue because then i am at my most messy.

or my most slippery if you will.

and then he moves, places himself between my legs and begins to tease me with the tip of his engorged penis. it helps if it’s engorged, it makes the slippery sliding that much more delicious.

you never last long in this moment, the time hovering between foreplay and sex when you are sliding his arousal up and along your slit, teasing your over-sensitized clitoris and the head of his penis with each other.

the time before condoms if you need them.

the time before, that endless moment where he hovers over you and you feel him there against you and your hearts begin to beat together as your bodies shift and shift and shift again until?

with one sliding move he’s inside you.

okay that last bit used to be true, now it’s more like:

until?

until he slowly begins to penetrate you, walls of your vagina stretching and groaning as you feel him ease his way into your tight flesh. slow strokes starting with the first third of him until a barrier seems breached and with one last push he’s buried to the hilt and you feel filled and stuffed and eager for more.

but oh that time before, when nothing else matters…

it’s better than whiskers on kittens and brown paper packages tied up with string even.

===

* actual moment i booty called my lover

Posted in fucking, life, sex, war stories. 13 Comments »

imagine…

November 15, 2007 — badinfluencegirl

i have this fantasy you see.

this fantasy where we have all day or maybe even all weekend.

where we suck and nuzzle and fuck and neck and lick and blow until we’re both exhausted and delirious and the second set of sheets are wrecked.

where even if we change the sheets we’re still sleeping in wet spots.

but there’s more to this fantasy you see…

it’s just that being fucked effectively senseless and coming so much i drench the linens is a pre-requisite.

because i want to feel something else inside me… something a little more difficult, less inevitable and requiring much more preparation… and it’s not your beautiful penis in my ass no it isn’t.

although that’s coming.

i want you to drag your well worked mouth over to my sloppy pussy and start to lap at it so gently that my overused girl bits can barely feel it and thus don’t protest.

i want you to slip a finger inside me so stealthily that i almost don’t notice until it’s tickling my g-spot.

and then i want another finger to slip in and meet it’s mate as the two of them play dance music on my spongy centre and your mouth plays the melody on my clit.

there should be gasping and shuddering and sensations all over the place such that i can hardly tell who i am let alone where.

i want a third finger to slip so deliciously inside me and i want to pant and moan and even mewl a little as your hand gently thrusts in and out of my overused and yet insatiable hole.

you will feel my pelvic floor at this point, throbbing around your seeking hand as your mouth continues it’s gentle but slowly deepening dance on my clit. you will feel me pressing into you and demanding more even as you give it to me.

and then?

and then i want another finger. i want to groan deliciously and toss my head back as my hips rise to meet you. i want to cry out and feel my abdomen quivering as you lap and dance on my engorged button.

i want to come from what you’re doing to my insides and come again from what you’re doing to my outsides but still go on because when i’m that well fucked you can keep going. i’m past oversensitive and well into insatiable by then.

at some point when my mind has lost the ability to reason you will slip your thumb in between your fingers and start to press closer and closer to your knuckles and i will breathe and relax and breathe and relax and suddenly you will be inside me and with a little twist you will be past my pubic bone and in.

and i will feel your whole hand inside me and scream in pleasure.

you won’t stop of course at this point, gently moving around inside me and playing still with my engorged clitoris. the sheets will be drenched, the lube bottle half empty and i will be groaning deep and satisfied groans as you fill me.

and then?

of course?

we’ll fuck again.

Posted in fantasy, fisting, fucking, random, sex, sex fantasy, vaginas. 14 Comments »

fall

November 12, 2007 — badinfluencegirl

it was one of those magical days, the kind that are gifts from the universe and come oh-so rarely to those of us living in the north. the kind of day that our children (assuming the pundits are right about the cost of living on the earth and it’s effects) won’t understand.

the kind of day that inspires you to go swimming in october and dry off in the sunshine afterwards. the magical sunshine that appears briefly and only as you exit the embrace of the cool but welcoming lake.

a day, in short, made for lovers.

we were, after much delicious food and good company, in need of some outside time. outside is particularly important when you’re at the cottage because somehow you must treasure each breath of non-smoggy air. each whiff of turning leaves and oncoming winter and freshly turned earth teases your nostrils with the awareness that soon only snow and city will be there.

“you really are in love with water” he asked after a tale of childhood ebullience and i nodded. “perhaps we should go swimming after all, and even if we don’t you’ll look hot in your bikini.”

“win win” i laughed and we danced indoors to change our clothing. i emerged shortly in a purely canadian outfit. giant fuzzy sweatshirt over bikini and paired with flip flops. his was funnier still but i will allow him some privacy.

we tiptoed into the lake, each step filled with the chill of the lake and the evil breeze that had just sprung up to flit across the water. it raised goose bumps on our exposed flesh and caused us to mightily regret our hubris upon entering the cool water.

persevere we did until eventually i gave in and dived. dived into the wonderful coolth that cradled me in its buoyancy and swam like the water baby i will always be. swam and played and enjoyed his admiration as i revisited my second home.

water and i have a deal. i don’t mess with it and it doesn’t mess with me. yes, this actually works.

eventually, as always happens, it got a little too cold to stay and we emerged. the lake was nigh deserted and i delighted myself by removing my top almost instantly (it has foam that stays wet and that water was NOT warm.)

“let’s dry off in the sun before we go inside” says he and though i look around some to be sure that really no one is around to admire my goose pimpled breasts i comply and we sit on some wonderfully sun-baked rocks to lap up the unseasonable fall warmth.

he frowns at his dripping shorts and in one smooth move drops them to the ground and sits back beside me. as always when i see him naked i cannot help but touch him, convenient since my skin evokes an answering response in his hands.

conversation falters and then fades entirely as other senses take over. our hands, cool but fiery, stroke and explore as breath slows and deepens in our chests.

nipples, crinkled from the cold of the lake, harden still more at the touch of wandering fingers and warm tongues. our mouths meet and stop, breath stilling as we pause to enjoy the scent of the other and the flutter of our lips together.

he stirs, manhood rising to meet me as i cannot but resist kissing it in greeting. such beautiful skin it’s a wonder i can ever put my hands anywhere else.

my mouth opens and i find myself, in full view of the universe and everyone, groaning over his growing cock as his breath quickens and he reaches for my bikini bottom.

i hesitate, shy of this last barrier on this lake shore that is not entirely deserted and then, with a shrug, lift my bottom to allow him to remove the sopping garment.

his wandering fingers find my centre and stroke me to gasping in one fluid move as i return my head to nestle between his legs. fortunately i’m flexible and he has continued access to my throbbing core.

the putt-putt of a motor enters my ears and i look up to see a small boat passing by, our hands cover each other and we wave gaily at the small family going by and laugh as we wonder what, if anything, they see.

we return almost instantly to our previous positions and i moan gently as he grows to fill my waiting mouth and reach around to hold his shaft as i tease and play with the head of him. his breath catches as i stroke my tongue along him and my own lips before i sink down to envelop him in my hungry mouth.

i taste him on the edge of my tongue, those few drops that his body is willing to share with mine and reach up to kiss him and share the taste of him.  he smiles and places a wet finger in my mouth to do the same.

we play like this, alternately teasing and arousing each other until the breeze freshens.  freshens such that it is no longer pleasant to be naked in the fall in canada and we laugh and gather our soggy clothing and our aroused selves and wander back into the house.

and then?  some scant time later?

this happened.

Posted in exhibitionism, fellatio, life, outdoors, public, sex, teeth, voyeurism, war stories. 7 Comments »

droplets

November 6, 2007 — badinfluencegirl

as i picked up my laptop and laid on my bed preparatory to writing this post something happened. i had, in my head, a lovely post about a fall afternoon that mr. big and i passed together recently and by the time i opened the writing window here at wordpress something entirely different had come to mind.

never fear, you will hear about our fall afternoon very soon but not today.

you see, as i brought myself to a comfortable lying position with a computer on my lap i noticed my sheets. my burgundy flannel sheets in fact, and what i noticed were the places that were not burgundy.

i noticed the wear on my favourite sheets of course. i mean you have to expect them to begin dying when you wash and reuse them constantly rather than in fact using one of the four other sheets you have available to you.

i noticed the places where the mattress was beginning to show through and the places where little tears were starting and even the spots that my cats use as scratching posts… not to mention the drift of hair where one of my cats prefers to sleep.

but more i saw my trophies.

i saw the little patches scattered about this sheet that i changed less than a week ago. little patches of white droplets telling the story of his welcome to me upon my return from a few days away. further such droplets recounting my leave taking a few days earlier and still more little white patches of droplets enumerating pleasure that he has given me in the times before and after.

these then are my trophies. the marks in telltale white that recount our sexual escapades in dna splattered sheets.

the moments, if you will, where my body surrendered to him it’s most secret of fluids. those which can only be found in pleasure most intimate and almost but not quite only by a partner.

yes, of course, i can make myself gush but not nearly as well as someone else can and nearly always i don’t bother. a little clitoral orgasm is enough to scratch the itch, my g-spot is not required for such things.

even with a toy my ministrations toward mine own self are somehow faster and less drawn out and most definetely have fewer small peaks on the road to the cliff we must all fall over.

thus the trophies.

the marks on my lovely sheets which only ever see the light of day with someone else. the marks which force me to wash my sheets when really i would nearly almost rather bronze them.

unfortunately it is time to start sharing the load of the trophy making with my dark green sheets now since my poor flannel ones are wearing thin… and are of course now at their most comfortable.

is it strange that i am somehow tempted to take photos of these remnants of my most secret fluids before i wash them once more from this earth to flow down and mix with human waste of all sorts in the sewers of my fair city?

is it odd that i wish almost to make a collage of such images if only to see if anyone realizes what they are?

i treasure these displays of my most secret releases in a way that i consider most unusual and yet i know them for what they are. the signs of my body’s willing surrender to the tender ministrations of another.

if that isn’t treasure then really, what is?

Posted in fucking, life, random, sex, war stories. 9 Comments »
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