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Memories are made of this
For some, a relationship is for life. They marry a childhood sweetheart, live at least contentedly ever after until death them do part. For others, life is a series of relationships, none of which quite work out. There are other types of people too, but I’m not going there this time.
The point of this post is Memories!
You know, when you see something that reminds you of someone who was once special, and you get that strange twinge in your chest. What IS that?
Over the last week, I have had a couple such incidents. Since my phone decided to forget everything it knew and the sync with iTunes didn’t work, I had to restore it back to January. That meant that pictures I had taken since then had disappeared, but also that the ones I had archived or deleted were now back again. And with them came memories of other times.
Happy pictures. In some cases, naughty pictures (and no, you can’t look), but all brought back mixed feelings about how relationships were, and how and why they ended.
I was recently accused of living in the past because I still kept pictures of these people, but that’s not true. I don’t dwell on the past, as much as this post would suggest otherwise. I try to use the past to learn lessons; to help make better decisions in the future.
And this morning, I can see Tumblr posts by someone whose taste in erotica is peerless. Someone I once thought of as The One. Seeing those images, and knowing the thoughts that they generated in her mind gave me one of those little twinges. A pang of disappointment, of loss, of failure.
I don’t yet know how, but I want to make the next one count. To make it work. To make me and … whoever… happy for a long time to come.
Photo reblogged from Sasha Loves... with 30 notes
He said her pussy would be stimulated the whole way there, but he didn’t say she could cum
Back seat lust
Mmmm… road trip thoughts
Source: girlfixation
Quote reblogged from LADY CHEEKY: Smut for Smarties with 143 notes
When your love is pure or spiritual,
there is no demand, no expectation.
There is only the sweetest feeling of spontaneous oneness
with the human being or beings concerned.
Source: saras-vati
Quote reblogged from LADY CHEEKY: Smut for Smarties with 69 notes
This is a sex blog. Obviously. I follow other sex blogs and they follow me. One way or another we’re all talking about the same thing. Sex in all its different ways, forms and varieties.
From one night stands, to married people’s missionary kind, to the ‘I want to hang off the ceiling while I cum in your ear’ kinky stuff. Some things work for certain people and those same things might be considered repulsive by others.
Nobody, however, will dispute the beauty of the kind of sex that connects people. That brings them closer together. Positions and props are not important when that happens. The only thing that matters is the passion between those two people, whatever gender combination they may be.
When emotion comes into it, it changes everything. It transforms people. All you want to do is express your feelings towards that person in a physical way at that point. It changes from just being a sexual act to an emotional and sexual connection. Ultimately, isn’t that what we all want?
Source: theladycheeky
Balcony
When I emerged naked from the en-suite bathroom, I saw that the thick drapes had been pulled aside from the French windows, and you were standing on the balcony, your back to me, looking out over the city. It was late, but in the warm night air, you wore only a tee-shirt. It wasn’t a particularly long one either, extending down to just an inch below your buttocks. I smiled at your nonchalant exhibitionism, and wondered if you had kept your panties on. The balcony comprised two stainless steel railings; one at ankle-height, the other at the level of your lower ribs, with black glass panels between them. You leant forward, your forearms resting on the upper railing.
If you could be that adventurous, I thought, so could I, and as casually as I could, I strolled out onto the balcony and wrapped my arms around your waist. You half-turned your head towards me, and I leaned in to kiss your neck.
“Mmmm, that’s nice,” you said quietly, extending your arms slightly, which allowed me to nibble on your ear lobe.
My left hand ran down your midriff and outward to your hip, trailing downwards over your bare leg. You made no move to stop me as it swept up again, under your tee-shirt, lifting the hem as I cupped your left breast and my forefinger gently rubbed your nipple. Emboldened, I moved my other hand downwards, to pause at the very bottom of your tee-shirt before inching further down, one finger extended. At my touch, your hips moved forward a fraction and I learned that you had indeed earlier removed your underwear.
Discovering your nakedness made my manhood stiffen as my blood rushed there. My finger found the little hairs on your mound and then your lips. It descended still further, into the channel between your labia, finding it warm and moist, and your little nub hardened as my finger slid across its hood. For a while, I slid my finger back and forth along this little channel, which quickly became wetter. Your hips started to move, expressing your need to be filled. Instead, I removed my finger and heard you groan under your breath. I smiled, because I had no intention of leaving you like this.
Instead, I stood up, grasping your hips, making sure you could feel my stiff length against your arse cheeks. To my delight, you splayed your legs wide apart, sinking lower and presenting me with the perfect angle to press the head against your entrance and, with no resistance, inside. I moved forward just an inch and then teasingly withdrew. And then did it again, knowing that this simply increased your frustration and made your desire even greater. Soon, you reached backwards with one arm, dug your nails into my buttock and pulled me hard into you. As my pelvis slapped against you, and my penis impaled itself inside you, you let out a long deep groan of satisfaction.
But that wasn’t enough. I wanted to increase your desire still further, so I repeated those tiny little thrusts, this time deep inside you, barely moving. I reached up and grabbed a handful of your hair, pulling your head backwards. Slowly now, I increased the length of each stroke as well as the pace, and soon I was thrusting vigorously. Your breath came in gasps and your little high-pitched moans were carried away on the still night air. Oblivious to our location, though, we were in a world of our own as our coupling consumed our attention.
In moments, I felt the pressure building and increased the pace still further, my need for release urgent, my passion for you absolute. At the moment of my eruption, I felt your body quivering in sympathetic release.
For a while we stood, still joined, to regain our breath. I kissed your neck and stared out over the city. Across the street, a solitary figure stood on a similar balcony, lit by a small overhead lamp. A woman in her forties, I guessed, with shoulder length brown hair, and wearing spectacles. Noticing that I had seen her, she smiled approvingly, then turned and went inside.
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A Suite Morning
We lay in bed, naked, basking silently in the glow of our morning coupling. The duvet lay crumpled on the floor at the foot of the bed, our clothes littered the floor where they were discarded the night before. I lay on my back, my arm around her shoulder, cradling her to me and kissed the top of her head which lay on my chest. Helen was a few years younger than me and a few inches shorter, with a curvy figure, generous breasts, shapely legs and a smile that could turn a man’s heart to jelly.
The night before we had spoken of our shared desire and lust for each other. Of how long we had been communicating, mostly via the internet, without actually meeting. Of our experiences, our fantasies. Of the agony of not being able to meet, and of the delight, the gorgeous, delirious experience when our bodies finally merged and our desires were fulfilled.
I looked at my watch. 9:15 am. I thought about breakfast and tried to remember what time the hotel finished serving. We should probably get up and dressed, I thought, but my body was reluctant to let go of the lovely warm body cradled in my arms. I absently stoked her arm, her waist and her hip and felt her stir slightly.
“You hungry, darling?” I asked
“Not for food,” she answered, mischievously. I grinned.
Moments later, there was a voice coming from the corridor outside. And another. I could not hear what they were saying, but they were clearly female. Then, to our surprise, a knock on the door. I looked towards the door, even though I couldn’t see it from the bed in our suite, which comprised two rooms, separated by an archway. We froze, both contemplating whether to speak out and announce our presence in the room. Before we could do so, the door opened. Under my left hand, I felt Helen tense up and snuggle closer to me, but her head turned to look at the person who had entered.
Despite her hotel maid’s outfit, the woman was clearly attractive. She was in her thirties, her hair a dark chocolate brown that cascaded down the side of her pretty face. Her pale blue dress did little to hide a curvy figure. My eyes were drawn to her cleavage that divided generous rounded breasts, the swell of her hips and the elegance of her stocking-clad legs beneath the short dress.
“Oh, I am sorry,” she said in a foreign accent, her face a picture of shock and embarrassment. Her body was already turning to leave, but her eyes were fixed on us.
“Don’t be,” I heard Helen say. What?
Helen sat up beside me, making no attempt to cover her nakedness. Her full breasts were proudly displayed, her legs, still slightly parted, offered the maid a glimpse of her labia. There was the hint of a smile on her face as her eyes were locked on those of the maid, who in turn was gazing at Helen.
“I…must….go,” the girl whispered, her voice barely audible.
“No,” Helen replied, her voice almost commanding. “Come here.”
Tentatively, the girl approached the bed, her gaze never leaving Helen’s body. She stopped at the foot of the bed, not knowing what to do next.
“Do you like what you see?” Helen asked.
She nodded slowly.
“I like what I see too. Take off that dress.”
The girl hesitated, looked back towards the door, then slowly unbuttoned the dress and let it slide to the floor. She wore a plain black bra that may have been a size too small as it barely contained her full breasts. Sheer black hold-up stockings and a skimpy black cotton thong completed the matching underwear ensemble.
Helen drank in the sight of her appreciatively. Now at last she moved. Leaving the bed and moving round to where the girl stood, she ran her fingers over the girl’s bare shoulders, down her arms and over her hips. Then back up again, until they clasped her face gently and leaned in to kiss her. Time seemed to stand still for a moment as the two gorgeous women stood in tentative embrace. Then the maid responded, her hands grasping Helen’s generous hips and pulling her closer. Lips parted and bodies merged, and Helen’s hands found and undid the clasp of the maid’s bra and slipped the straps off her shoulders.
I sat mesmerised at the scene unfolding before me. The two women kissed deeply, passionately, as if they had both been unknowingly longing for each other for years. Soon, though, the two bodies moved to the bed, Helen laying the foreign girl down gently, so that she sat on the edge of the bed. Helen gently pushed her so that she lay down on her back. At that moment, she looked up at me and smiled.
My penis was rock-hard in my hand, which grasped it almost protectively. Helen looked at it for a moment as if unsure which she wanted more - my cock or the girl’s pussy. Clearly assuming - correctly - that I would wait, and the girl was a unique opportunity, Helen slipped her fingers in the waistband of the girl’s panties. The maid’s eyes were closed and already her hands were clenching at the sheets as she lifted her hips to allow the older woman to slide her underwear downward over her hips and thighs, and drop them on the floor.
Her eyes glistening as she looked at me, Helen bent her head between the girl’s thighs, then broke the gaze as her mouth found the girl’s labia.
She shuddered and mewed, a high-pitched, muted squeal of pent-up delight. My hand began involuntarily stroking my cock as I imagined the smell and taste of her. Little wet sounds came from the foot of the bed now as tongue and lips got to work on the girl’s precious little bud.
With a flash of inspiration, I rolled off the bed and moved round behind my lover to stroke her back and shoulders, her sides, her hips. I lay down on the floor on my back and slid head first between her legs, which parted willingly and she lowered her glistening pussy lips onto my face. My tongue lapped at her opening, gathering up a load of her sweet nectar and bringing a groan of pleasure from her, muffled because of her attentions to the sweet pussy in front of her. Licking all the way up to her clitoris, my tongue then circled the swollen little nub and I began swirling my tongue around it, flicking over it occasionally to satisfying twitches of her hips.
The room felt warmer somehow as my lover and I indulged our love of lady juice. We licked and sucked and nibbled until I heard the younger girl’s voice get louder, more urgent, her breathing becoming more and more rapid. But my lips and tongue could feel Helen approaching orgasm too, as she tried to fuck my tongue. Sucking her clitoris between my lips, I heard her gasp and moan. Her hips twitched and a long, drawn-out moan escaped her lips, which were still buried between the younger girls legs. That, in turn, must have triggered her orgasm.
I got up off the floor and lay back on the bed. The two women were grinning silently at each other, their satisfaction obvious. But there was something else there too. They were not sated. For the next hour, the three of us were one multi-limbed organism, writhing and twisting in a multitude of positions as we each tried to bring the others as much pleasure as we could. Lips, tongues and fingers were everywhere. My rigid cock got the attentions of both women, while my balls were sucked and my anus penetrated by at least one manicured finger. Eventually, unable to restrain myself anymore, I came hard and deep inside my lover’s vagina, while she brought our new playmate to another shuddering climax with two fingers.
When the maid left, promising to return the following morning, Helen and I went in the shower to get ready for a belated breakfast. Neither of us could stop grinning at each other.
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In darkness
Closing the door behind us, we are immersed in darkness and I can barely see you at all. But my hands are on your hips, pushing you up against the wall, my lips finding yours and kissing you passionately, deeply, hungrily.
Your fingers fumble at my belt, tearing open my jeans, shoving them down over my hips, and your hands grasp my hardness. My fingers pull urgently at your dress, lifting the hem to your waist. As I do so, I am delighted to notice that my fingers do not feel any sign of underwear.
Your hand guides me towards your entrance and for a second, we pause. Breaking our passionate kiss, we each hold our breath in delicious anticipation. Then, as one, as if in telepathic agreement, you lift one leg around my waist as I thrust forward, and smoothly, effortlessly, we are joined in ecstasy.
Photo reblogged from The Secret Life of Skye with 896 notes
It´s always about you … :(
:(
Source: throughthelight
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Another Hand
This very short story was first posted on my other blog. In response to requests, I tried to extend it but somehow, at least for now, I could not find a away of adding another ‘chapter’ without making the story sound disjointed or contrived. So, for now, dear reader, you will have to use your imagination about what happens next.
That moment when you first gain consciousness and realise that all is not as it usually is. I love that. Before I opened my eyes I knew that the bed I lay in was not my own. I knew too that I was not alone, because I could feel warm skin against my chest and under my arm. And then all the memories of the night before came flooding back and I smiled. It was very quiet in here, so I assumed it must be early, but there was some light filtering through the thin curtains.
We had planned this trip for months. A log cabin in the woods, just the two of us. For a whole weekend. We had arrived last night, had a light meal and retired early to bed where we had spent the next few hours delighting in each others bodies for the first time in weeks.
I opened one eye and saw a bare shoulder in the soft light. I kissed it and the owner stirred a little. I kissed it again a little lower, then her upper arm. Another kiss lower still and then my lips found the valley of her waist and the swell of her hip. I heard her sigh and her body shifted so she was lying on her back. Her head tilted towards me and, eyes still closed, she smiled at me.
Her beautiful face, framed by soft brown hair, held my gaze for a moment. She was so lovely! Memories from the night before flashed before me - the look of urgent lust, the tightly-closed eyes, the erotically-charged blasphemous whispers, the tremulous sighs of satisfaction. One eye opened and looked at me. I leaned forward to kiss her lips and her arms encircled me, drawing me close. Her body was warm and fragrant. The faint lingering scent of her perfume competed with the more musky odours of our exertions last night. I inhaled the heady mix as, softly, tenderly, almost tentatively, we kissed. Then her lips opened and our tongues met. Suddenly we were clutching at each other, our bodies pressed tightly together, our hands wandering over naked flesh.
I moved to one side a little and my hand found her left breast and my finger played with the nipple until it grew hard and she moaned softly. Sliding my hand over her ribs and her belly, I was surprised to hear her gasp and moan again. What had I touched? My hand circled for a while, trying to find that erogenous spot again, but in vain. Trailling my fingers lower still, I stroked the top of her thigh before letting my fingers slide down to her inner thigh and up towards…. another hand!
Breaking our kiss, I lifted my head and looked into my lovers eyes, seeing the pleasure etched into her face. Then I looked down towards the foot of the bed where a veil of glossy dark hair hid the face of our companion for the weekend, her outstretched hand expertly guiding my lover towards another peak of pleasure. Today was going to be a beautiful day, indeed.
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