End before we begin

I'm a lucky girl. I've had some great lovers. It's been a smooth, wet transition into this lifestyle. It's easy to enjoy the lover who worships your body, begs for your mouth and cums with a shudder and a gasp.

Lately, my luck has not been so good. My brown-eyed Irish boy could care less if he ever saw me again. Occassionally he'll e-mail, tell me he misses my pussy. I just stopped writing back.

My long-distance lover pulled the curtain on our meeting the day before I boarded a plane. While he had a valid excuse, I can't help but feel like the dupe. Was he as in to me as I am into him? I guess I'll never know.

And then there's the boy I'm seeing now. Eager, voracious appetite, works close by but is never satisfied. Now before you open your mouth in surprise, I always leave my man satisfied. But this man isn't happy with just me. He wants to try something new, exciting, different every time. Let's add a guy, he suggests. Or maybe a girl. What about double penetration? We could swing with another couple.

All of those are exciting, fun things I'm eager to have, but not on my lunch hour when I have a lovely planning meeting at 1. He never seems happy to just meet me for some quick but thorough sex at the local park. I feel like I'm failing before we even start.

The pragmatic me shakes her head, and reminds me that I should be thankful to have these chances at all. To be thankful that men look at my freckled nose and looping curls and want to bury their hands between my thighs. But there's that other little voice, the one that wants something more. Something that I haven't had for a while.

I am a sure thing, but I still want to be seduced. Maybe it's time to look for someone else again.

I liked it

This weekend, I went dancing with a very good friend, a blonde beauty who towers over me in her heels, with a soft laugh and a great smile.

I love to dance, as does she. But this time, I skipped the bump and grind with boys too young and watched her wiggle. She's much too good of a friend, for far too long, to initiate any kind of physical relationship but that didn't stop me from feeling her body twist and turn under my hands.

I also stole a taste of her sweaty skin from her bare shoulder. I could barely discern the bitter flavor of the alcohol from her martini seeping through as she danced with abandon, willing herself to give up the role of wife, mother of three boys and hard-working lawyer.

Under the low lighting, she glistened.

For the love of boys

How many lovers is too many?

I find myself in a precarious situation. My lovers before were solo adventures. Just me and he, exploring the depths of human sexuality and depravity. One tongue, one set of fingers, one stiffening cock confined by my lips.

When did things get so busy?

I started this blog as a catharsis for discussing my need for male attention without actually discussing it with any one. It's my outlet. I am a writer both in this life and in my straight life. It's only natural for me to keep a diary, or accounting of my sexual adventures.

I've met some really fantastic gorgeous men in my life. Through this blog, I've met a few others. But how many is enough?

For a while I thought the next lover would be the last. I've given up that dream. I can't see a point where I'll stop. I know that's dangerous, always looking for the next. But it's become a part of who I am, the mistress I've become.

I love boys. Bald, thin, chubby, tall, short, muscular or a little soft in the middle. I crave them, like the sugar I don't eat. They are the sweetness on my tongue.

I've met a new boy. He's much younger than I, still a 20-something. I tend to prefer them older, wiser, experienced. This one, however, intrigues me. He smells so damn good, he must taste like honey. But he's a little shy and requires that I brush off my skills to seduce him. He's never been a toy. He's not sure how to respond. I should just let him go. Pass me by. Find someone his own age to fall in love with. Except, now I want him for my own.

Maybe just one more. Just one more.

Listen

My cell phone buzzes and for an instant, I'm frozen. I was anticipating the call, but it still gives me a thrill to see his number on the screen.

I answer and once again, marvel at the affect his voice has on my nerve endings. Tingling from head to toe, I respond a little breathless.

"I'm all alone in the house."

"Oh really?"

"Yes."

He instructs me to strip my pants and thong, lie on the bed spread and softly rub my swelling clit.

"What would you do, if you walked into my room and saw me like this. Spread on the bed, fingers in my pussy?"

"I'd watch you."

His voice urges me along toward the inevitable with promises of kisses, fingers, dick and fucking. I pant and moan in his ear. When I'm close to the edge, balancing, I ask to cum.

"Can I cum, please?"

"Do you want to? Do you need it?"

"Yes."

"Cum now. Now, kitten!"

My voice fills his ear with moans, squeaks and sighs as I shudder and cum on my fingers and palm.

"God, I love the sound of a woman having an orgasm."

Bedtime stories

The Owl and the Pussy-Cat went to sea
In a beautiful pea-green boat:
They took some honey, and plenty of money
Wrapped up in a five-pound note.

The Owl looked up to the stars above,
And sang to a small guitar,"O lovely Pussy, O Pussy, my love,
What a beautiful Pussy you are,
You are,You are!
What a beautiful Pussy you are!"

That's all I really need to hear!

Shopping trip

I've made some plans. This will be a first for me. In this lifestyle, there aren't many "firsts" left.

This is the first time I met and pursued a man online. The first time I booked a ticket to meet him in another city. The first time I carefully picked out dresses, skirts and high heels specifically to please him.

I'm counting the days until I see those brown eyes and hear that rich, deep voice in person. But until then, I have a few more things to arrange. I've made a little list to make sure I get everything I need.

Black garters with matching stockings
The prettiest new anal dildo. My lover has never put his cock in a woman's ass. I promised to be his first.
Red leather collar, jewels or studs optional

I know my prepartions are largely unnecessary. If this man and I connect physcially as we do virtually, all we really need is plenty of room to explore each other.

I'll still finish my list. Much of these relationships are about fantasy. I know I'll probably never leave my home, and neither will he. I know that "future" is couched in phrases of "if only we'd met.." or "maybe next time we can ..."

But fantasy has its own rewards. It's the opportunity to try those things never before allowed. The opportunity to be lovers in a strange city, kissing in public, fondling at dinner, experiencing wet blow jobs in the cab on the way to our hotel. The opportunity to fuck with abandon and joy, without the worry of phone calls in the morning or arcane dating rituals designed to kill intimacy.

And above all, it's the opportunity for orgasms...lots and lots of orgasms.