Reviews.

After a quick review of all of my photo and video archive - yes dear, I'm talking the red hot, classified, x-rated, sissy material, of course - I have to admit that:
- I got aroused, and for a a few minutes I thought of calling M. and asking him to let me go to his place and fuck me hard.
- I really can be such little horny slut, that I wonder what or where my actual sexual limit really is.

- I need to get laid. For real.

Sizes, for all that matters...

Bust: about 95 mm, that makes 37.4 inches.
Waist: about 82 mm, that makes 32.3 inches.
Hip: about 95 mm, that - again - give 37.4 inches.

Now, since female garments' sizes are as per this table (Sizes at Victoria's), that claims that I should either be 26.5 inches at the waist if I were 37 at the hip (hence wearing a 6-S size), or be 42 at the hip if I were 31,5 at the waist (hence wearing a 14-L size).

All of this said, what I learn at expenses of my lusts, desires, will and fantasies is that either my wais isn't small enough given my hip size, or that my hip aren't wide enough - let alone my tits, of course - to match my waist.


Given my genetics... I suspect it's the latter to be true.

What a pity. Today I had just received a very generous offer from "her" to lay on me while I was butts up on her bed, so that she had the opportunity to lap my body, feel the meat beneath the lace, one hole at a time, until we had both climaxed... and made the room warmer, as usual.

What a pity.


(on a side note: I just wonder how comes that I regularly wear g-strings size 2 or 3, but sure never  L or XL size... Could it be that at VS are too much "conservatives"?)

Unexpected dreams.

I didn't expect to have such dreams last night.
I think I remember it to be an innocent, very common, ordinary on some extent, typical dream, with mist, faces interwining, and faded voices.
Then, all of a sudden I found myself walking the streets of a German city - how did I know it was German? - and reach an alley where I knew - how did I know that? - there was a gay sauna, and in fact it's stuffed with lads and studs all around, most of their torso are exposed and I find myself stepping down a short stair with a door on the left of the end of the five, six steps I'm going across.

I enter the door, while I can feel the eyes of at least three-four "stallions" looking at me as if I were a mare, ripe for a... ride.
It's not very classy, that's the first impression I get. But it's sure got plenty of very horny men. Most of them are either naked, or scarcely dressed, most cocks are exposed and I get glances of pierced huge cocks and I'm torn between the struggle to lick and suck and get fucked by them and the disgust for the crudeness of the scenography.

One of them is partly dressed up in leather and slaps my exposed - when did I stripped away my dresses? - buttocks. He kind of pushes me inside a room, his intentions are very much clear, yet I will never get to know how the movie ends: alarm calls me to my morning duties...

Temptations

She definitely tempts me: her luscious body, her swifty brain, witty tongue, tasty and soft lips, and the sheer fact that she keep climaxing at my every touching her, or kissing her, or - she told me today - by smelling me, simply is my kind of thing. The "smelling thing" one was weird, I'd admit it, but it actually did seem quite natural then.

It hadn't been all that casual as it was last time; this time I moved the jigsaw puzzle of my life in any direction so that I could have twelve hours to be at her disposal, body and soul (and so that I could enjoy her body and soul, as well).

The evening faded into night easily, we had sex continuously, repeteadly, in many different ways, and always together, from 7 pm throu 4 am, and I think I'll list dinner time with the rest of the group in the house (all men, 1 gay couple, 1 ex-boyfriend) among the sex time. Definitely. Yet in a more subtly way.
We have had a bed wandering by the room like the grand piano in Novecento, because of her cowriding me, I did experience the sexiest massage ever (with the most abudant outcome), and there was an attempt at "exponential kisses amount" involved (which is: I'll give you ten kisses more each time you'll cum, and boys, we reached high numbers).

I would have wanted more than this and was ready and prepared for more. If only I had not to travel far away the very next morning...


Today, during a skype chat:
She: just to be sure I'll be ready for it: when will you come to visit me again?
I: I don't know yet, but I doubt any earlier than next year.

Oh, how I wish I could say: tonight...


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

A wish

I wish.
I wish I were raped by a truck driver, all of a sudden, while walking back to my car at night in a gas station.

I wished I could hear his steps behind me, and start sense the bitter taste of the unexpected, of uncertainty, the cold shivers of fear when they mix up - or maybe mess up? - with desire... and turns into lust.

I wish he just - as if it was happening by accident - only pretended to swiftly touch my shoulder and since he would sure not perceive any aggressive reply to such a physical intrusion into my private, physical space, he would then firmly grab my forearm and pull me towards him so to drag me to his truck, as if he was a bird of prey and I... his helpless prey.
And that he then, just, simply, dispose of me, of my body; of my very wishes.

This, I actually wished while walking back to my car at night, in a gas station on the highway today.

A gentle thought

M. called me yesterday evening. I was still at office, was getting ready to go, and kind of had forgot about his text message some weeks earlier.
He was worried about my silence, in fact it turned out he had never received my text message with the link to this blog.
I found him very caring, and felt some pity for him for not having let him meet me anymore.
I wish we could meet without sex involved, I wish that we could just go and drink a beer, but I know that's now what we would really want to do; sure that would be enough for him, anyway.

But I still appreciated his kind thought. Really.

Will this be the day?

I woke up this morning with enough desire to:
- decide I would wear a sexy black tanga that make my butt great;
- not to try to disguise that by wearing large trousers, but rather wear a tight-on-the-butt pair one.
- ride my motorbike instead of drive the car (so that moving with tight schedule would be easier)
- start planning excuses for not going home for lunch.
- write this post about whether (is it still that unsure, by now?) I will text the guys that arose my sexual desires again yesterday (check here)


UPDATE: It ended up THEY couldn't at lunch time, and everything faded away. Maybe for good?

Obsessive thoughts

I keep thinking at that.
I keep having pictures of their bed.
I keep viewing images of my body on his other body, and his other hand on my head.
I keep feeling his hands on my hip, me ass up, he plunging inside me deep hard, me moaning, my mouth full of his other body manly expression.
I feel my sex growing excitedly at that thought.
(I reply to one last message, texting nothing but "..." to his message "U have all the time you need, we'll come again at Christmas, but we'd love to see you before then")
I try to maintain control over my body, with little success.
I reply "... (i'm strained)" at his latest "come. We are horny thinking of u"

I'm in distress. Like never had been until now.

Calls

"es ist eine seite deiner personlichkeit sehr stark ausgepraegt"

that's German for "It is a very strongly rooted part of your personality".

And if you team it with "your very horny, we like you, would you come and visit us, we're in town until Thursday", you will have a picture of my strain this morning.



The two guys are very decent. I had a very good time with them. One is exclusively dominant, and he's a great lover and a powerful fucker with a very nice cock that really plunged into my ass delivering shivers of pleasure and left me with tremors once out of there.
His partner, they are lovers since 25 years, is exclusively submissive, instead. I find he's too much into that popper thing, but his dick in my mouth while G. pumped me from behind, on that large cast iron bed, while outside it was raining hard and we could hear that from the windows, lost in our threesome in that house lost in a wood near the lake... it was simply perfect and I really loved it all through.


He wrote me an sms this morning. He just asked me if I were available these days, and that they will be around until Thursday.
We texted for a little while, he understood my trouble and my torment.

I really, really don't know what to do.
My life is puzzled, he's right: EVA actually is a deeply rooted part of me, and I only have this life. And yet I blame and condemn acting in a certain way.

What should I do.
Will I end like the man above: dead covered in snow?

Terms

Slut. Whore. Pig. Tart. Minx. Saucy girl. Bitch.
There're many term to define somebody lustful, and keen to indulge in saucy sex.

Here is an excerpt of a conversation I just had with that very ex-girl friend I wrote about only a few weeks ago.

F: You really are a lil slut, anyway, you know? :)
M: Me??!?
M: Oh my goodness! look what I have got to hear? :D
M: and then:
M: at least you define me a "lil slut", typically you would call one a "pig", wouldn't you? :D
F: no, no. You're a slut.

Since then, I started browsing both the dictionary and the thesaurus, and I am delighted by all the variants I could find on the term.
I loved the "wanton woman" term, definition and origin, for example.
Similarly to other languages (Italian amongst them, of course), involved terms often refer to "cleanness",or "tidiness" as an antonym of anything related to sex, and to enjoying it.
There's also the chance to define somebody a "sex fiend", although you only have nymphomania to revert to when you want to considered it pathological; in fact the term is ambiguous in English, and it could also refer to a person highly gifted or skilled at it ;)
To some extent... I think I like this last definition, too!

Message(s) in a bottle

A couple of days ago I got this:
"hello dear, it's long since I don't hear from you. Is everything ok? How are you? M.".

A very lovely person. Caring, generous in his kind, and to some extent a very good lover.
I also did receive, a couple of weeks before, one other message, from a couple from Switzerland, that regularly visit a place around here, and that one had me as "their guest", with mutual satisfaction I would add.

These messages seems to me like a voice coming from far away; yes, I know I've been hiring a bitch to fuck my ass, I did even had a sexual intercourse with my most controversial ex-girlfriend, but I never did had sex with men anymore since that night, did not even had sex with my toys.

Now, will I call M.?

I really - really! - really don't know...



edit: I didn't. I did send him a link to this blog, but I'm not sure he ever paid me a visit here. Might be just because he doesn't feel comfortable with the english language, though.

Ghosts. Pleasant ones.

To have sex with one ex girl friend, particularly when she's the first one you ever kissed, and the one with whom you shared those first shivers that come when your inner sexual world explodes (I actually think it's imploding, right now...) it's a one-time experience that really can make your day. Or your night.

She had already expressed interest in having a second round with me, some times ago, but we had decided (she did it, and I agreed) to not let us slip into that.

So, when I arranged the meeting while travelling southbound for some business, I only had in mind to pay her a long time postponed visit; I really wanted to see how she was doing, to have dinner with her, and share some thoughts, which has always been great fun; she's one of those few people with a very wide open mind (but not so wide that the brain will fall apart).

But, after dinner, while just letting her hug me while standing on the balustrade of the seaside pier, we kissed, and I couldn't prevent my desires flow freely, feel her so-much-soft lips; our bodies know each other so good that it only took a few strokes for her to climax hanging on my arms, my leg within hers.
So, once home it had been just a matter of (little, very little) time before we were laying on the large queen bed, me eating her pussy and her climaxing again and again and making the whole zone a bit wet: that's always been "her way".
We just did remember, sense, each other, again.

I had a wonderful time, and although I did have to wake up 5:45 am, those few hours were sound refreshing.

Thanks, my dear.


-- Posted from my iPhone

Dreadful.

I'll never do that again.
My second time with "a professional whore", a trans (again) working in a city where I was for some business, has been dreadful. Truly: never had anything worse. In so many aspects that I simply can't understand how I could not recognise the signs before, and flee...

Poor sexual feeling, physical impact quite far from expectations, emotionally discouraging, poor empathic capabilities. The she-male even stole me some money (on top of the one I gave her myself) and tried to convince me I was on the worse side of the argue, faked a police call to a friend, and locked me in her one-room house.
At least I made her lose more money form client than what she stole to me. In fact I reckon she decided to let me go when she saw I wasn't afraid anymore of the police coming in, a clear sign that I would have waited for her "ghost policeman" to come long enough for her to lose even more money.

Now I definitely rember why I had always refused the simple idea of having sex with these sort of people. I might have been lucky last (and my very first) time, but I dedinitely had been only sheer luck then.

Bleah...

-- Posted from my iPhone

Envy?

He just quit with his fiancee, after a two finished marriages, and keep meeting nymphomaniac women. Who are even very interesting to talk to.

I've got some envy, I've to admit it.

Reminder

I got a reminder from gayromeo.com yesterday (or a couple of days ago, for that is): you've not been seen around for a while now, so we thought we put your profile on hold, because we'd rather have customers always only find users that are active on the scene.

"active on the scene". You can still see words hanging around in air.

Not a big issue, my profile is still there - they say - but won't be searchable.
I can re-activate by simpling logging in.
I spent some three minutes thinking about it: shall I do that? Relog in for a second, I mean?



It turned out I could manage not to do that, I didn't log in, and this set another step higher my resistance. I'm kind proud of myself (but I'll admit I got back wearing g-strings - but very plain ones - again even when not justified by running suits, and this morning I epilated, and it was lovely to feel the water flowing on my buttocks...)

Restrain...

Hold on. Restrain. Temperance. Resistence. Anything that will keep me from getting down to looking for men would do.

Yet, the world aroudn me is so full of occasions, an email, a quest, that brings me again on "that" email account I decided not to read anymore, where I know people looks for me.
I'm even not using the IM, no kind of IM except for Facebook, where no duplicity is allowed.
As a matter of fact what I'm trying to do actually IS trying to remove any trace of... well, as much trace of duplicity I can afford to from life.

Keep going, man. Keep going...

Resilience

Am I bouncing back? I kind of feels I might be; I epilated, this morning. And I enjoyed it. Every part of it. The mousse on my butts, me massagging it, then scrubbing with the glove to remove the hair and finally the water flowing down on my now soft, hairless, skin, increasing by twofolds the feeling of water flowing.
And since I have to wear pants not made of lycra when I remove hair, I went for a pair of cotton boxer, but they were so worn out (I'm the nostalgic kind, even with robes...) I had to (keep saying that and you may start believing it), I had to pick one pair of those sexy female underwear I have in the last, small drawer on the right. I picked the simplest one, a black cotton brasilian tanga with no lace, no frills, not even a g-string. I thought it to be decent enough and... well, safe.

Well, it is not.
I like how it constrains by dick, and I can feel the fabric on my buttocks and, when I peed a few moments ago, I looked at my image in the mirror, and I lingered for a moment on the thought that Marco loved me wearing this robe...

Only a moment.
But, yes, I hesitated.

I will resist, but is it that the aim? Resisting? Nobody can "resist" for ever. I need an alternative, that's it.

What...?

I don't understand what the hell is going on: I kinda feel "locked in"...






-- Post From My iPhone

Enough.

When does enough is enough?
Is it when you have sex every night with a different guy (or trans) around the city where you are when you're not at home? Is it when you get laid by two men coming for vacation near your work place at lunch, then get fucked by you "usual fucker" for dinner, then stay at one far-away-lover's house for four nights because your job brought you there and have sex with him any time and any like he wishes (and he's got plenty of wishes)? And you almost have sex with one of your previous girl friend - the naughtiest one at sex - and are only saved by her present lover and his present religious beliefs but don't hesitate on being the sexual mate of the night guardian of an hotel in another city?
Is it then?
Or is it when your best man - and dear friend - who gave you hospitality for one night because your job brought you to travel near by and you two don't drink a beer together that much often so you decide you'd stay (and miss a peek at that wonderful SPA in the city near by), at morning reaches for your exposed, naked, hairless butt, you feel your body reacting, and you then just realise you would accept his cock fucking you hard. That you actually would want that.

Yes.
That's when. When enough is enough.

I didn't enter GayRomeo anymore since then. I didn't enter MSN with my sex-oriented profile neither. I did quit on wearing feminine underwear (except for running...). I didn't use my dildo since. I didn't got laid since, neither.


(on a side note, the guy just wanted to feel what would have been like to stroke another man's cock and have it cum, and did know I would have been one man that would have understood the request.
But he never admitted his cock and his hand enjoyed rubbing my butt and I never insisted on that).

Unexpected

City hotel. Inside. Night.
Well, late evening, actually. I noticed the night door keeper was gay at first glance.
And he made evident efforts to confirm me in my opinion as soon as we were alone, offering me another drink, touching my arm kind of casually, making bland notes about my sexual life at the first occasion I throw to him.
Inviting me to sit on the couch, and rubbing my forearm once there and trying to get my spirits higher by throwing some me alcohol to them. Which he needed not of course because nothing turned me on more than a hotel night door keeper that were gay.

It didn't take much since I was smelling my grappa and he wasn't rubbing my forearm anymore, but my thigh, and then my hard dick.
He "brought me to bed", and I let him do it. And after so much oral, I'm only waiting for him to come back with a condom...



He's back.
He belongs to the kind of men that doesn't show their best when gloved, nevertheless I'm still rumbling and trembling as I'm writing these last notes, so we could say: it had been unexpected, but it'd been good.


-- Post From My iPhone

First time ever.

"I'll never pay for something where both of us have pleasure!". That's what I've always declared, rather proudly and aware of how selfish it were of course.
I've always been in the opinion that it was non sense to pay if we both were to have a good time.
I could - to day - say that I hadn't considered "the service" in this; in fact the availability of a person to have sex with you readily and very much willingly and skilled in the matter, too, all of this should be given a price. And - actually - € 50, at her place, for as long as I wished, it was rather a fair price.

And a rather gorgeous brazilian trans, too!

I had myself convinced on this by a man I was chatting with while in a hotel, away for business as usual (and looking for a goo shag, as usual). He wrote me such wonders about this that I finally made up my mind and rode my motorbike to where he had told me they were.
She was the first one I met, but she had outstanding, large tits, great, long buttocks on incredibly high heels and a really catching smile. And squeezed on a very sexy leather mini dress.
I followed her at her place and she immediately asked me to have me touch and caress her buttocks while we were walking to her door.
Very imperative an attitude, she led me in her cove and guided me all the time we spent together, which was more than one hour.
She loved me lick her toes, and touconhg her skin softly, asked me things and urged me explicit, prompt answer; a natural born mistress, although a gentle one.

She were aroused by me smelling her body, especially her feet, and by urging me to please her body.
It had been rather peculiar: she wanted Adam, but treated him like if she were being with Eve, and this made me very difficult to gain a decent hard on, although I was feeling very much excited by all what was going on.
I would have wanted her to fuck me, but it ended up by me ass fucking her instead.
Which was indeed great, she had a great ass and could made I incredibly tight. I only wished my hard on were... harder.

I really think I should practice on fucking with a condom on, by I only either get fucked (and condom is then somebody else problem), or I make love with my wife, hence with no condom on.

In the end I definitely am the romantic kind of person, anyway: like when I had my good times at night with Hannah, I couldn't prevent myself from cuddlying this gorgeous, sexy, lovely perverted 1.85 luxurious woman... and enjoying the fact that she loved it and made her aroused again.
I wished I had more time.


-- Post From My iPhone

Experimenting

This one was nice; and a lot kinky.






Mmmm... it really made me squirm with pleasure, and it really was nice to look at... ;)

-- Post From My iPhone

I need to get laid, a lot... (or by a lot, if possible!)

I'm in Germany, near the Rhein river. For business. But I thought I would have soon found somebody to spend the hours after the business dinners.
And I didn't. At all...

So, during my first night alone in my room I did everything I could think of to satisfy my hunger for a large dick, or many large dicks, by mean of my dildos. And one glass that gave me a great feeling and showed to me what a fully dilatated ass might possibly look like.
Then I felt asleep, not before 2 am, and after 12' of the longest orgasm I had ever had...


Tonight, I decided I would have gone to a sauna, a spa, in the city centre, and just in order to make it turn into some fitness exercise I went there running: well, after about 2 and a half km I found out that the sauna was already closed (at 11 pm???!!!!).

I thought that would at least do for a 5K run that sure is good for my body shape.

[]

I did it, as if he was there.

He left me with the request that I had sex with my wife in the weekend.
And I did it.
I did it as if he were there with us, sat on the short stool next to the wardrobe.

And this makes for a short digression about my wife.
We did spend about one hour, watching a movie, laying on the couch, sid by side, me naked and wanking slowly, my "bird" strong and demanding; if I have had some stud aside me, so evidently aroused... I would have at least lend him "a hand", or even have had a "mouthful" of it.
But I instead had to "ask for a shag"; good thing is that,although I would have wanted it on the couch and she wanted it on the bed instead, we had a great, great time.

Once under cover, in fact, she gave me a real great blowjob, and when she came on me to ride my cock, it was a real hard piece of meat, a real pussy opener, and she sat on it with evident satisfaction.

And he was watching us all the time. I could feel him getting the best view of my wife wonderful, ripe, back going up and down on my most aroused dick, and my asshole exposed as well, my leg spread wide and my hands on her hips to give her rhythm.
I had a slight moment when I thought how it would have been if he had joined in, and got to plug his cock inside my open flesh, how it would have been to fuck my wife hard while having him fuck me hard too!

But that was but a fleeting moment and I came back, fully absorbed by my wife gorgeously fucking me, and me wanting to fuck her more than this. I wanted to have her climax to a full orgasm and I knew best option was to switch position.
"want me to get on top of you and get you from back?"
"yes, please" she muttered and she swinged swiftly to her side of the bed and laid doggy, on her four legs, her wide back now facing me. I looked at the man I figured as sat on the stool and plunged my dick full inside of her flesh. She moaned and I felt an upsurge need to cum, as it always happen when fucking her like that (it must be something in the way she's made inside, I think). So I started to move quickly and with wider movement, kind of going inside and then all outside, so that she could feel me open her wide, have a small fraction of second when getting to close back and then feel me ramming my way in again.
I know that to be a wonderful feeling from my gay-sex experiences.
She climaxed evidently and started to beg for more and then for less and then to stop. Of course that is when I go for even more of it, because you never want to trust and obey an orgasming woman.
I climaxed too but kept going for about two or three minutes more. It had been some less than one hour since we started and I just wanted to have her relax and get to sleep so, while still inside her, I caressed her back, she moaned softly and started to get back to the real world, which I know she did fully when she asked - "is the baby sleeping?".

Well, yes, in fact there was somebody else the room: our six months child.

I want more of it

I just thought I had one go with my most passionate lover in the neighborhood, because he wanted it, because I did let him down, kind of ditched him a couple of times lately so we could say I kind of felt guilty. And because it were days I wanted a good shag and I couldn't think of how to get it (wife was out of question as usual...).
So I just texted him "lunch time? What do you think?", he replied "ok, 12:30?" and I said "ok" and I did it.

He dealt with my lust, my need for a man, great; I was really sorry that I had to go because I sincerely would have wanted another match with him.
But I had to get back to the office.

At 6:30 pm I received an msn text from some "mr", whose status was "I've got a fantasy..." and I couldn't say anything else but: fantasy of what.

So he told me how his wife, in the last onrle year, had nurtured the erotic fantasy of watching two man doing sex, only to then, maybe, decide to join in.
We started talking about how it seemed to be difficult to find the right person, and what the right person should look like.
He was charming, nice at talking and tickling; it was about closure time at the office but it isn't unusual that I stay there until late.
He sure was an explorer of utmost experience, he only digged lightly on me at the beginning, but it wasn't much before he could unveil Eva with well aimed questions. I suppose he quickly became aware of what I hide inside me.
In fact, all of a sudden I was exposed, speaking - pardon: writing - in first person, referring to my self as a she (this is more evident since I was writing him in Italian where also verbs and adjectives are gender declined) and using the "/me" that makes the chat very personal and which definetely meant I was acting as if it was a role play, rather than a casual chat, like it was at the very beginning.
I told him, offering no resistance to his questions, about my only female lover, how she was Eva's lover rather than Adamo's, how she had me dress on high heels, stockings, suspenders and g string and all and walk on the Po riverside at night, amatourial bitch among professional ones.
He could make me recount the sexual intercourse I had had the very morning, with profusion of details about how I felt when my lover was on me, inside me, and how I wanted it all, how I climaxed and wanted my lover to cum while still inside me (inside his condom, of course!); he got it all from me, he could have me tell him everything, and let him inside my head and to live the scene as if he were there with us, watching on us.

I felt excited. I liked it how he was kind of screwing me again, I was recounting/reliving what had been an intense sex session, with increased intensity because I wanted him to enjoy it all and live it with me.
That is a master/sub relation and he surely understood he could have me in it; and he did it. Because I definitely wanted it, indeed...

[]

Why can't I?

I don't understand why I couldn't tell my closest friend, and surely most trusted one, and the one who had always known all about me and my sexual life, why can't I resolve in telling him about my nowadays complex sexual life. I simply can't, and I really don't understand why.

What a delusion of me...

[]

In his hands

Extreme north east, extreme sex.
I wasn't out for that, right the contrary: I was decided to pick the opportunity of this business trip with my boss to this region to meet, after 10 years, with a friend of what I sadly call "my other age". And so I did, and I had a wonderful evening out, drinking, talking, only recalling a few times about those times and instead projecting towards the future of our lives. And there was this slovenian brunette, Katja, short slightly curly hair and a really catching smile and a smiley eye.
So, when at about 1:15 I came back to my room and used Joykuspot for Symbian to create a wifi hotspot that my iPod could use to let me check email, and decided to have a go at a recently downloaded app from App Store and check how was irc chatting on an iPod... well I didn't really mean to go cruising the gay scene around, but in the end it happened I did.
He was about of my age, but older, had a desire for a nice and "willing" ass and, may it be because he thought the pictures of mine showed it was up to the task, or because I did prove him I was up to the task, or because being only 100 m away was too much a temptation, but he invited me to his house straight away, in about 15', dressed with my favourite underwear and "very clean and ready inside"; it looked quite interesting, indeed: I could not resist, and I actually didn't ;)

Before 1:45 I was before his door, ready.

I liked how he took charge of the situation, undressed me, and had me kneel on ground to take care of his cock; and once I had given him the desired hard on he just pulled me up only to had me couch on my four legs (yes, like a whore, but that's what I was behaving like so I sure didn't complain...) on his white leather sofa, so that he could explore my shaking, exposed, and awaiting butt, kind of a test of its possibilities, of how much he could dare do with it. It must have passed it, because after having played with it long enough for my will to surrender to his desires (and sure enough to mine) I followed him like a diligent manga school girl, holding his hand, behind him, head down, walking as if I were walking on high heels, one step slowly after the one other, tip toe almost with my head in the haze and my desire to satisfy his requests overwhelming me.
He brought me to his bedroom, and had me to lay sit on the bed rim, so that my head was right close to his abdomen, took my head within his hands and caressed my neck and stroked my curly long hair for a couple of minutes until when I could hear myself moaning with pleasure; he must have heard me doing that because all of a sudden he did grab my hair tight and pushed my head down to his cock, my mouth could barely host it all inside it and I could catch my breath right in time before I had to taste what had titillating my senses with a strong, musk scent just a second before.
I wanted it, and he seemed to have got it because not any longer than a bunch of minutes later I were to find myself again couching like a whore with a dildo gagging me, hands behind my shoulders strapped together with a rope which he hold in tension, force arching my back while shagging me very hard deep inside. It took about three or maybe five minutes until I started to shiver, my body shattered by a strong, prolounged anal orgasm that was only enhanced when he exit out of me. Damn! I really had a great one!
But what I didn't know was that this was just the appetizer.
I could barely breath, my body still shivering, my mouth wide open, breathing heavily through the blanket, but I could distinctly feel his look on me, and I could easily tell he was appreciating the show, satisfied by having given me such a strong orgasm but still greedy to play with this new, so responsive, toy: my body.
I wasn't sure of what was happening, but I understood he was plugging dildos inside me, of larger sizes, lubrificating it from time to time and often adding on top of my already stuffed ass hole his dick, riding me hard for minutes. (mmm... it makes me "wet" by just recalling it...)
He really tried more dildos than I ever had, although he didn't had a vibrating one, nor did he fisted me, but he tried on me something I had never tried before: an inflatable butt plug that was awesome and did tear me open many times shattering my body with incredibly strong orgasms that left me breathless more than once.

At that point, after no less than 70' of him "taking care" of my butt and my ass hole so kindly I was only longing for him to cum because I felt I could have barely resisted to more of that (although I would have sure tried it if he had asked, given how much willingless I had been made, a mere sex toy at his disposal).

It must have been the very much late hour, or me having finally fulfilled his desires, he cum; I could feel very clearly the yummie smell of it hit my nares and the warmth of it on my still upraised buttocks, slowly pouring down my hips: what a wonderful feeling... I was feeling happy and glad I had chatted once back in the Hotel, and that he accepted to play with me and that he were such a wonderful player of this sex games.
But, most of all, as always, I felt glad and happy that I had been able to fulfill his desires, which were to make a sex toy out of me, at his disposal, almost with no will, only reacting to his actions at the most basic level of animal being. But that's what I wanted: to see I had pleased him... a whore, and a geisha, once again living in me in this long night.


(and to anybody who resisted in reading until this very point: I appreciated it) ;)

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPod touch]

Perplexity

I could live twelve thousand lives, and learn twelve times faster and twelve time better than I do, and remember what I've learnt twelve times more than I do nowadays, and stil I reckon - I'm sure, but I'm practicing being humble - I would not understand why women want to keep being that much counter-intuitive and totally un-practical.

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPod touch]

I'd surely do that

I was remote checking a Computer or a customer with my iPod and I found his web browser open on a free porn video page (freefuckvidz.com if I'm not wrong); my eye was caught by a side image rather than the video on hold on center page: a hyper dilatated girl ass hole; I'd like, I'd love, I really long for finding someone to try and do something like that on me.
I have had dildos, large one, although I would say always "realistic" one, two dildos, one large dildo and one large cock, and once or twice two cocks, two or three times I have been (happily, in case somebody wondered) fucked with the whole hand.
But my flexible asshole never stayed like that one in that picture, while I'm sure I'd love it from the bottom of my heart.
Or maybe just my bottom... ;)

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPod touch]

Hidden pleasures

I can't prevent or from happening, it's just a matter of time, I know. How do I know?
Because while I definitely enjoyed a second go with my wife yesterday night, with my mother sleeping in the very next room and our six months baby sleeping the bed aside us, yet today I couldn't leave my nice little black g-string home, shoot my shagging boom a movie inside office's loo, send it to one of my lovers-in-town (who definitely appreciated it ;) ) and, above anything else, once back from a 5.5 km run before dinner and taking a shower I couldn't prevent myself from opening that drawer, fetch the Big One and have it repeatedly tear open my asshole carring me to extasy.

I don't really think I will stay away from one of my men (or look for some one in a Spa) for quite long... And why should I, after all?

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPod touch]