September 2003 Archives

I've been fantasizing about winning the lottery and starting a radio station in this town. Just because I can.

Because here it's all Clear Channel, all the time. OK, not all, but still...

Because I want to do culture jamming. Because there is more music than the top 40, or Nixon Rock, or pop music that they insist on calling Country.

And actually, I want two stations. One will have music that never drops below 120 beats per minute. The other will never stop showing you how much beautiful music is under-represented.

A blog I read (whose author chooses to be unlinked) is more than partly responsible for this I realized—on pausing to reflect...

At this moment, I would like to thank anyone who has ever commented, emailed or IMed me—ever—because of what I have written here.

You make me think about things in ways I never would have.

It is to you that am truly grateful.

You are on my mind more than I'm willing to admit.

"...it's OK to be human."

I help remind you of that?

I am humbled.

Thank you.

You have no idea.

As a general rule, my body runs warm.

I am very good at warming cold hands and feet.

And even though it's supposed to get down in the 30s here overnight, I'm still wearing shorts to the gym at 0430. And a light fleece jacket.

Gotta save the heavy stuff for when it gets really cold.

So far, I've thought about several ways blogging could be even cooler. I have two ideas that involve nothing good (in the way that bad can be so good), but that I could do now with the control I have here. So many shiny red buttons to push... My mind boggles with the potential.

But for the interim, you'll have to be satisfied with me and my evil thoughts, just as they are.

::wheels turning::

Hmmm...

I feel something coming on.

Yes, you're hot.

I've voted more than once...

I have been more lucid and calm lately than I have in years.

But even though I have just eaten...

I am still hungry.

So many evil thoughts...
So little evil time...

Work sucks!

I don't think that Blogger is bad as much as I think this is much, much better.

Sibilance... Sibilance...

I'm also getting back on the wagon.

Exercise in the morning and eight hours of sleep.

Here I am sitting in the exact desk I was banished from two months ago.

8-5, m-f, maybe 4 weeks.

Phone, email, network accounts all just like they were. Strangest God-damned thing.

There is no wrong
and you are perfect.

My favorite time of day is 2:00 am.

Morning coffee and a paper.
Will she appear?

Blogging has eclipsed porn as the reason I want to be online.

I just realized this now.

Kittens?

Literally or figuratively?

You can say it. I can take it.

I am honored.

Look Ma, no ads!

And what's this? Built in comments?

=:o

Ok. I can't keep it a secret.

I'm not done yet, because I don't know how to do everything in CSS that I can do with tables (I know CSS is better, just give me time!) but I'm working on a new place.

I want no one surprised when I move.

So go ahead, take a peek.

I'm very veg friendly, understand.

[rant /]

I know the arguments for going meatless, both from a personal health perspective and from a global resource perspective. If you have any questions check out or rent or read Diet for a New America. There is a clear agenda, but I think you'll look at what we do to ourselves a little differently. There are other medical aguments as well. And don't get me started on the Atkins diet (alas, my poor kidneys—I knew them well).

In point of fact, most of my meals are meatless now. Look at your nutrition labels. Protein is everywhere. And calcium in not created inside cows.

I know how to eat tofu, and that you don't eat it plain like Spam or Velveeta. I even buy 99% of my groceries at a coop that specializes in organic products. And don't gimme crap about organic meaning "made from carbon." At this point the term has been codified into national law. To be certified, by the FDA no less, you must do and must not do certain things. Companies that behave in this fashion get my money. Period. Healthy products are far more plentiful and tasty now and I buy fewer and fewer items from conventional grocers. I've never eaten better in my life, save for when my parents grew all of their own vegetables. Organically.

[/rant]

But yeah, some times I want a piece of grilled flesh to go with a baked potato slathered in butter and sour cream— and a cold brew.

And I love it.

;)

Note: Some readers are not compatible with the [rant] tag. Readers unable to interpret rant tag should simply ignore what lies between the opening and closing tags.

After my bitching this morning,

I got a call from a good friend.

He bought me lunch.

Steak cooked rare and a fine, fine ale.

I'll be OK.

When did you...?

Rhapsody in Blue.

Agog.

Looks like the sun is coming in a big way.

I like storms, but gray days make me a little nutty.

Rain today.
Rained on my good copy of the contract.

Did you know it costs $1.75 per page to fax a document?

I have a headache because I forgot to take my meds this morning. I hate when that happens.

Um, OK. I feel better now...

I just read DW's advice on flirting. That would so work on me.

Before that, I read Pagan's amazing account of a threesome.

Do not call, email or IM me for the next 30 minutes.

I'm... busy.

I am not a planner.
I am not a vegetarian.
I am not trying to live forever.

So why does that make me such an ass?

Because I won't be able to go to any event that's not a matinee.
Because I won't be able to go anywhere that smoking is allowed, or that might cause my ears to ring.
Because I won't be able to get a fucking steak cooked rare and a Guinness from the tap.

But I'll be healthier, right?
And all the routine and extra sleep will make me more emotionally stable, right?

It would be easier if I didn't hate the idea so much.

I hate it.

There is nothing like a fresh install of Windows to make you grateful that in fact everything can work well.

I'm exhausted as hell, but I think I'll be able to post more regularly now.

I just get focused and I can't get away...

I really want to masturbate first...

But I'm SO tired.

How troublesome it is to reinstall a PC.

I just moved to speedier, more spacious hard drives and it makes a huge difference in the way my PC feels—i.e. faster!

The pain in the ass however is to remember all of the little applications. And thank God I kept records of serial numbers and copies of installers or I woulda been dead in the water.

As it is, I'm pretty close to feeling comfortable with the configuration. May still tweak a bit.

Got two more little apps to install tonight, then I just need to do housekeeping to keep all of my software and documents in a place that makes sense.

::sighing::

I just remembered another app I gotta download: MusicMatch. Pay them for the full version. I've been using it since 1998.

That was amazing!

OMG!

You were going to give up on me, weren't you?

Poetess
Poetess
Poetess

Can you feel how hard I am?

Wrap your hands around me and pull.

Maybe I'll follow.

If I hold a handful of your hair and gently caress your bare skin with my belt, will you do for me?
Will you struggle so that I can restrain you to prove you are mine?
You are mine.

See how easy it is to hold your wrists together with one hand?
Does it hurt to be posessed?

How gently I stroke your chest with my fingertips.
Tease your nipples.
Roll them.
Squeeze them hard.
Pinch them harder.

Yell for me!

That's it.
Mmm. Good girl.

Your chest is a little redder now, nipples very hard.
Breathing rapid.

Gently my fingers trace up your neck.
Do your wrists hurt my love?
Sex is dangerous.
Through my fingers I feel your pulse, insistent and strong.
I hear your breath.

I squeeze my hand to take what is mine.
Do you feel me?
Hard to answer my love?
Such a delicate little throat.

If I squeeze more will you believe me?
You are mine.
You
Are
Mine.

I feel so ready to fuck.
Can you feel it?

Roll yourself over onto your knees now.
Put your face in the pillows.
Don't you move.

I caress your ass with the leather of my belt.

Don't you move.

I double the belt over.
I deliver one cracking blow to one cheek

It was worth it to hear you moan.

I caress the other cheek with the leather, then withdraw it.
Not yet.

I see you quiver waiting for the next blow to fall.

Now.

A satisfying crack.

A surprised yell.

Matching red spots feel so warm to the touch.

Don't you move.

I unzip my pants and lower my waistband, freeing my cock.

I move behind you.

I grab your hands and move them to your back, crossing your wrists.

I slip my belt under your wrists and then slip the end of the belt through the buckle.

I yank it snug and buckle it tight.

One hand finds your pussy, fingers seeking deeper.
Spreading you and plunging in.

And I take my hand away completely.
Then slap your pussy just once.
You moan like you like it.

My fingers are still wet from the slickness of you.
And my erection couldn't get any harder from the thought of owning you.

I grab your ass with both hands, squeezing hard.
The pressure opens you to me.

And I take you.
Hard.

My hands are on your hips now, forcing you back as I slam into you with my hips.

Over.
And Over.
And Over.

I slam into you.
The walls of your pussy tight against my cock.

I lean over you and cup your breasts in my hands while I fuck you.
I fondle and roll and pinch your nipples while fucking you.

The pressure builds inside me.
I feel my cock getting harder in that way that it does before I come.
I feel my testicles squeeze against the base of my cock the way they do before I come.

I hear your moans while I ride you.

I grab your hips again for more hard thrusts, grunting now each time,
Until I think I'm going to come.

Then I slide out of you and lean against you stroking my cock just over your ass.

The contractions begin and I hear you shouting for me to come, shouting at me to shoot it.

I come stroking myself over you.

I come across your back.

I come into your fingers.

I come into the crack of your ass.

I come into your tousled hair.

When I don't think I can come any more I slide back into the heat of your pussy. The contractions last just a little longer.

And I am spent.

My beautiful girl.

You're right.
I am a bit of an odd duck.

In Real Life, I'm quite a quiet boy.
Some say intense.
Some say angry.
Some say aloof.
Some say shy.
Some say a good listener.
Some say emotional teflon.

Here I can let on to the endless conversation in my head.
The endless description.
The quest for understanding.
The rationalizing.

They say it's a defense mechanism.
The description becomes a form of abstraction.
The words being something less direct, less intense despite their meaning.

Describing and understanding
Are not the same as feeling.
Describing and understanding are the branches I hold on to.
Feelings are the insistent pull of the current.
Feelings are the white noise of the rapids.
Feelings are the rocks you don't see.

I'm tired
I'm lonely
I'm bored

And I come here
Because I imagine you understand

And then my words
Are not so much
Mental masturbation

The trick is not to worry about the smooth reflective surface of the dream.
The reality is sometimes wonderfully warm.
Allowing me to move in ways I didn't know I could.
Sometimes it gets deep quickly.
Sometimes it carries me away.

But the surface is calm when I am.
I can adjust my course.
I can swim over the rocks.
I can dive away from the flying stings.

When I meet you in mid-stream
I want to take you to the far shore.
Stroke your hair in the sun and the warm sand.
And love.

Great minds think alike.

Whether we are ahead of our time or of our time remains to be seen.

I sorta see myself as outside. I think maybe you do, too.

"I ain't missing you at all."

Don't be afraid.

He said to himself.

::sigh::

All I want to do is make everything work the same as it did somewhere else.

You would think this would be easier to do than it is...

So I have spent the day alternately tweaking CSS, or trying to copy a drive image.

Two projects. Two goals.

Neither will be reached without significant additional effort.

I want it now.

So much to do.

Thinking of Venice in the warm summer sun.
Thinking of cherry flavor and bath tubs.

Meanwhile, elsewhere on the web. Something is taking shape. What could it be?

All is love.
I'm crashing now.
Down.

Whoa.

I started back on Adderall today. The shit works.

But I did it wrong.

You see, I'm up to a fairly hefty dose—comprised of a total of 4 smaller pills.

I wanted to experiment with dividing the dose such that the effects were noticeable throughout the day and not so much concentrated in the morning.

Well.

The idea was to take three in the morning, then one at lunch.

In classic ADD fashion (some of you will nod knowingly), I took the first dose later than expected. Probably around 7:30 or 8:00, as opposed to when I first got up at like 5:30.

Then I forgot about taken the second dose until about 2:00 PM. Oops.

All I have to say is this: Holy fuck am I wired.

See I started this week being all about a regular bed time. Today, that is out. I'm not going to bed to lay with my eyes open for hours and hours.

So, I don't really know what I'm supposed to do but ride it out. Who knows what the night will bring. Hopefully, melatonin will start to do its magic anyway. Otherwise, I'm going to be a zombie tomorrow.

And with the excess body heat I'm generating I feel like I could heat a small midwestern home during January.

So yeah, I'm in my shorts. The window is open, and I have a fan blowing on me.

The king-sized Coke at lunch was another bad idea...

Remember the excellent Reverend Horton Heat t-shirt I ordered?

It arrived today. Not a moment too soon.

:/

This is my new home!

My old home was here.

Black As My Soul had it's first anniversay last Thursday.

My how things have changed. And funny what hasn't.

It might finally be time for me to drop the blogrolling script. I love that it claims to let me know when blogs have been updated, but I hate it when the scripts don't work.

And I wish that Blogger hadn't done away with their "pro" service offering. I didn't want to move from here. I wanted to host images locally and have comments.

Maybe it's time to move to another service?

I've got what I think is a good one in mind.

I won't do anything of course without letting you know.

I do dream about you.

Friday night, I didn't sleep at all. I thought I was going to bed at 1:00 AM, but then I started surfing for porn and it all went to hell. I'm bad that way. But I still went to go exercise like I promised and cleaned the house. Well, I have to finish tomorrow, but I will. Anyway yesterday was a beautiful day. 70 degrees and sunny, with a nice breeze.

We went walking at a large public park near us. There are miles of trails for walking, hiking and bicycling. We walked for an hour on the turf trails. It was a wonderful combination of prairie, small meadows, woods and hills and forest. Several parts of the trail were along a meandering creek which flowed slowly in small streams from pool to pool.

There was a couple a few hundred feet in front of us—from whom we once got the distinct aroma of smoke that was neither wood nor tobacco. And in that glorious place I started to think about illicit meetings and trysts. The creatures were strangely silent on that day. Most often when we take similar walks we here squirrels running through the leaves. Sometimes we happen on a rabbit or a small group of deer. Once I even scared a wild turkey who suddenly took off and flew over my head.

When I left the park and looked at the surrounding area, I'm glad that we're smart enough to set aside land to leave close to the way it was before we found it. I mean, obviously paved trails and lawn mowers aren't natural—but sometimes it is really a wonderful thing to be where you cannot see another soul or a building or any other sign of humanity. It's wonderful to listen to the wind protest quietly around the trees in its way. Beautiful to see the shadows made by the leaves that twist in the wind. And sometimes, when you're really lucky, see an animal who is not aware of you and who is just going about the business of living.

And I have to thank my father. For his innate sense of direction and for his apparent fearlessness of the wild places. He taught me the difference between the kinds of evergreens. And for teaching me that it is perfectly OK to be silent and motionless to appreciate what you can see and hear and to let live and to leave only footprints.

Very much.

It's getting simpler.

Recognize that you have valid needs and desires.
Ask for what you need.
Accept it when it's given to you.
Help others to meet their needs.

"...I'm in my own Galaxy.
1973..."

It's been in my head all day long. Welcome to my world.

Brought to you by sweet, sweet Pussy Ranch.

1. What is the weirdest image/thought you have ever masturbated to?

I'm not so sure anything I could say here would be too shocking, really. I think the most twisted are images of women with cum all over their faces. I guess I do get a kind of charge out of that, sometimes. Definite power/guilt associations with that.

2. Are figure skaters sexy, or totally not?

No? No. Definitely no. Even that little fake mini-skirt thing does nothing for me. So, no.

3. If you were dating someone and really falling for them hard, would you dump them if they politely asked you to wear a full "Gimp" bondage suit for sexual purposes?

I could play at it a bit, but I don't see myself as a submissive right now. So if that was a long-term requirement I would have to be the one to say it wouldn't work.

4. Pick someone famous to pee on.

Britney Speers, especially if she's shocked and especially if it's gonna get on film. Where did that come from?

5. Girls, what's better: Penetration or clit fun? Which would you give up if you had to?

I'm hoping the girls say both and neither.

"...I had a dream last night
And she fit me like a glove..."

I'm going to put that ass in the air while your hands are tied to your ankles and I'm going to bang that pussy.

And you're going to take it because it makes me happy.

You're going to make me very happy.

I see a beautiful bare pussy begging to be fucked.

A beautiful wet pussy.

Such a beautiful pussy on such a slutty little girl.

I think that slutty little pussy wants to fuck, too.

I think she needs to get fucked.

Do you want to get fucked?

I'm not sure you deserve to be untied.

In fact, I think I might tie your hands to your ankles instead.

That's my beautiful girl.

That reminds me, my dosha is Kapha.

I watched Survivor tonight.

I can't believe how crappy people can be to each other.

Also thought the on screen description of the action stating "Morgan behind" was oh so a propos at the beginning of one particular shot during the immunity challenge. You know that wasn't an accident.

I saw those posts.

6 hours. I wonder...

My right ear is still really ringing. It's not hearing as well as the other yet.

I realized this morning that I had been facing the stage at an angle. My right ear being the closest to the speakers.

Yikes.

The important thing was to feel every bass note and the kick drums.

Sorry—I don't like to go this long between posts...

My interview today went really well. In fact, two former colleagues bent over backward to make sure it went well, including a pre-interview briefing.

Strange, but very cool.

So, I was really very well behaved at the show. You knew I would be.

However, my mind was full of salacious thoughts and imagery the entire time. And for the most part, I didn't even flirt.

But I did wish you were there.

I imagined grinding against you in the heat.

I imagined discretely getting my hands into your pants to finger you.

Maybe that can't be done discretely...

The moon is softly veiled as if behind a sheer curtain.

The wind moves the clouds quickly.

God is it a beautiful night.

Makes me think of my favorite seventies song.

Warm summer nights will do that.

I've quoted it here at least once before. I hate to get repetetive.

Reverend Horton Heat was exactly how I pictured it. Loud and raucous. The main room at First Ave was so hot you perspired just standing still.

Punk Rock-a-billy and cold beer. God it was good!

Throw Rag opened. Totally reminded me of eighties-style punk. Very easy to listen to despite how shocking they wanted to seem. The washboard player was a little over the top.

BR549 was the second band. They were more of a true country/rock-a-billy band. Very talented. Entertaining, but not my cup of tea.

RHH just blew everyone else away. My ears are going to be ringing for days. I think they played for nearly 2 hours. It rocked completely.

Ooh, plus I ran into a former IT coworker whose name is spelled the same forward and backward. He bought me beer. He turned out to be even cooler than I thought he was before.

Everyone keeps telling me to tell them if I need anything.

It's overwhelming.

You only want me for my porn. I can tell.

Do you want to sit in my lap at the show?

Hmmm. Well, I wouldn't be responsible for my actions...

I promise.

There is a reason chocolate is called the food of the gods:

Dolfin

Do not pass Go. Do not collect $200. But go.

I'm so ready to leave the house to go to the show.

I'm meeting a friend a Copeland's for dinner. Unless it's too busy. Then we'll walk to First Avenue from there.

I changed wardrobe plans. Seems the shipping company didn't bother to send my t-shirt until yesterday. So unless a truck gets here by 4:30, I'll be in my usual white shirt and bluejeans.

Dammit!

I wanted to proclaim "SINNER."

I guess I'll just have to act like one so it's evident. ;)

Don't worry, I'll behave.

Probably.

I'll stand in front of you.

Take the force of the blow.

Protection.

God bless Butthole Surfers:

"Yeah. Rock out. Whatever."

Best lead-in to a guiter solo ever written.

Well, damn!

Just like that.

My first real interview is scheduled for tomorrow!

I really need to sleep.

But I want to come with you.

Dreaming, dreaming... I could almost...
Wasn't it...?

The fragrance of you
On your fingers
I suck them clean

The fragrance of you
On my lips
Reminds me
Compells me

Diving into the fragrance of you
I feel the life of you
Hear the voice of you

Always wanting more of
The fragrance of you

I would swear I dreamt it before I met her. But after the fact it's impossible to say.

I would argue that all of the significant women in my life have announced themselves in my dreams. But that's my interpretation of things.

I always believe the dreams I can remember are very significant.

Sometimes I think I had a dream about you.

Coming oh so close to fucking.

Magic.

In my dream, she was not at all happy that I went for a condom. Sorta spoiling the spontaneity of the thing.

For some reason, the way she crinkled her nose when I brought it up told me the mood was gone.

It was just a fucking dream.

Or it could have been.

Last time I had that experience was right about this time two years ago. Solomon's Island.

I was alone, but God was I horny...

I am voracious tonight. I've been through my blogroll about twice, trolling for excitement and inspiration. Even started branching out to the most recently updated sites.

A good blog is hard to find!

I watched a video tonight about the depiction of women in advertising.

The analysis, while delivered in a pleasant fashion, was disturbing.

Basically, ads repeatedly tell women that they are not good enough, that they need to be passive, to look perfect, to be silent, to be virginal, and to be slutty.

The coolest women I know are none of those things, save perhaps the last—which I find charming. But that's me.

I personally am offended by the teeth-whitening add where an attractive woman is horrified by her smile.

I am offended by the add where women are supposed to be embarrassed if they use the wrong disposable shaver.

And I am super-offended by the add that depicts a teenage girl telling her friend how fun it is to change her eye color.

I don't know that I would have the strength to face a relentless barrage of ads telling me that I wasn't good enough.

I won't pretend I know what it's like, but I have seen it for what it is and I hate it.

Yep, that's my real birthday. And a real question.

But people have called me a lot of other things.

Via wKenShow:

Your Name: Soulless One
Your Date of Birth: 07/26/1968
Your Question or Information: Where are you lover?

Past Tir - Victory, leadership, success over other competitors, increase in finances, virility and passion (especially for men).

Present Lagaz - Intuition, imagination, success in studies, creativity, vitality and passion (especially for women).

Future Kenaz - The hearth fire, artistic pursuits, healing, love and passion, creativity, strength.

Cast the runes here:
Rune Caster

Hmmm. All roads lead to...

Listening to:

Skinny

Reverend Horton Heat at First Avenue tomorrow night.

Been procrastinating for six and a half hours now. Reading sexy blogs is much more fun than work.

I think I'll just finish the housecleaning now and be done with it. Drudge. Drudge. Drudge.

It's wierd when all of my favorite blogs are inactive at the same time.

I know. I know. I should talk, right?

I would never comment anonymously on your photolog. OR if I did, I would not use those words. Plus I would sign as me.

So often I am embarrassed to be a male—because of what males often do.

"...Release me from my dirty cage!"

My forearm, my wrist and my left hand hurts. And I'm pissed. I realize some of those things aren't even unusual for me...

And it's not even because I've masturbated twice today. (You try writing a story like that and see what happens.)

See, I'm a newbie where bass guitar is concerned. I've played all of like 5 times in my life now.

I started playing—or trying to play—some of the songs I've played with a good friend of mine. He noted beats and chords and fingerings for me. Which worked great when I could remember the songs. But he notes were as inconsistent as my memory, so I'm gonna have to download versions of those songs to hear and emulate. So I was able to play two of the songs all of the way through a few times. Although not perfectly. Not by far.

Having tired of that, I started listening to MP3s to see what I could figure out. One long dance track ended up being really simple when I figured out which three notes made up the bass line.

Then came "Control" by Puddle of Mudd. Now, first I was pissed because I couldn't find the low note. But I'll get back to that later. Eventually I figured out the notes on the second and third strings—probably two octaves higher than the song, but they were dead on.

I was intrigued, but I figured there must be a better way because the notes I found required a lot of travel up and down the neck. Serendipity showed that I could play the same notes on the second third and fourth strings using only my first and third fingers. But God it hurt to hold my first finger down the entire pattern. The beauty of what I figured out was also really painful to sustain.

Well then I started trying to figure out how to more closely match what I was hearing. I'm sure I had listened to the song 8 or ten times by now. I found I could do the same fingering on the neck a bit farther down.

Then I decided to try the first, second and third strings.

Which is when it became clear that I needed a five-string base, God damn it! Because if I did, I could play the god- damned pattern on open strings and the second fret. Fuckers. Of course you can beat the fucking hell out of open strings in a rock song. Yeah, I know there is still hitting the right strings at the right time, and there are still transitions, etc. But fuck. I knew I wanted a five string.

So as it stands, I can play 3 out of the 5 notes of that bass line. Perfect.

Grrr.

"Ohgodyes." I said softly. Maybe the last thing l would be able to say for a while.

Sweet little thing on her knees between my legs.

She opened her mouth and teased the underside of my cock with the flat of her tongue.

She locked eyes with me as she took all of me, again and again.

I closed my eyes because of the intensity of the feeling.

I opened my eyes to see you peeking in the doorway.

And she took me deep again.

And I locked eyes with you.

And she took me deep again.

"Oh God yes."

And again.

And I started to come.

"Please. Oh God please..."

And the sensation at the base of my cock overcame me.

"I'm coming..." I whispered.

You knew.

I shoved myself into her mouth and came.

She sucked me so hard.

You watched me hungrily. You must have seen my face change a hundred times in the extacy.

She sucked me so hard.

I kept coming like she drew it out of me. Came into her throat. Came looking into your eyes.

"Omigod, omigod, omigod..." I stammered.

"Omigod, stop. Omigod." I couldn't handle anymore sensation.

"Omigod" I gasped, trying to catch my breath.

She tried to look into my eyes, and instead followed my gaze.

I fell back to the bed, just barely sitting on the edge.

Her hands never let go of me.

Soon she resumed what she started. I started shaking and squirming.

"Oh God." I said softly. Barely able to manage that.

I wasn't going to last long like this.

I had pulled her hair back away from her face, but had worked my fingers into her hair at the back of her neck.

It was all I could do not to grab handfulls to steady her head and fuck her mouth.

"Oh God yes." I could scarcely breathe.

Blessedly, she put her lips over me. Her hot, wet tongue caressing and swirling felt so fucking good.

"Oh, fuck!" I breathed. "What a filthy little cock-sucker you are!"

I could hardly stand.

It was a lot to take in all at once. Fingers dancing under me, stroking and gently squeezing my scrotum. Her fist pounding the shaft of my cock, her lips and tongue and teeth at the head of my cock.

My knees started to shake so badly I started to reach back toward the bed.

The way she was holding my cock I didn't think she was going to let me sit.

She began stroking my cock in her fist.

And then she bent down, got on her knees on front of me.

And she licked my cock from the base to the tip, teasing the underside of the head with her tongue.

She had kind of a throaty laugh.

She was enjoying the control she had over me at this moment.

I felt the impossible hardness. My cock straining to get into her mouth.

You made me smile!

::grinning::

I just re-posted September 2002 through January 2003 since Blogger has the feature of changing the date and time of a post.

Pain in the ass. But I couldn't edit those pages before. Long story. I lost January 1-15th some time ago. It included one of my first stories. Shame it seems to be gone forever. But it was a sort of underage role play and it wierded me out more than a little. Maybe it's a good thing.

I've just been mostly offline for the past few days. Not hiding, not avoiding, just offline. Somehow it makes people think things that are just not true. Now stop it.

I'm back online today.

Love.