Author: tessa tells all

Passion personified. Naughty. Shameless. Always ready for an adventure, I hope this blog allows you a glimpse into my decadent life. By sight, you would think I am the girl-next-door, the neighbor you would want as a friend and the most creative mom on the block. What lurks underneath is stuff of legend. I have done it all and I can't wait to tell you about it.

A Man Named Dick (Part 1)

His name was Dick.

No, I am serious.  His real name was Richard, but he went by Dick. I met him in the summer of 1994. We worked together at the penis pump company (that’s enough for an entire post on its own…it was a legitimate medical company that sold erection devices.) Dick worked in technical support and I worked in customer service and if you will recall at that time,  I’d just begun my first “side hustle” as an escort.

And now that I write this, I find it ironic that both of my jobs involved sex.

Life was easy back then. My work schedule was 10:00 am-6:00 pm (the same as his) and I’d leave work, go home and get ready for any “calls” I had for the evening.  I stayed pretty busy and there was little time for dating anyone, but Dick was persistent.  Several times a week he would ask me out for dinner, a drink, coffee, a walk…anything.

So one night, I accepted. I decided to live a little. We went out to a downtown pub and had some drinks and appetizers. It was fun. He was a great guy. Blonde, blue-eyed, tall and lean. He was a runner and in excellent shape. And he was a good guy…squeaky clean. Not my type at all.  But still, the date was going well and I enjoyed spending time with him.

And then my pager began going off.  I muted it and carried on with the date. It went off again. And again. So I politely excused myself to the bathroom, found a pay phone (remember this was 1994) and called the boss, Gina.

“Where are you?” she asked. I could tell she was irritated.

“Sorry, I am on a date.” I replied.

She giggled. “Crap! I forget that you still date. Do you want to take a couple of calls for me tonight? These two have asked for you specifically.”

So I pondered it for a moment…two regulars would mean a lot of money. These two would tip well also. So I asked her to give me some time and I would make it happen.

I went back to the table and finished my drink. And made up an excuse to cut it short. Lucky for me, he bought it. We walked to my car and said, “I enjoyed this. What are you doing tomorrow night?”

I thought about it for a moment. Maybe I could pull it off…dating and working? So I smiled a devious grin, “I don’t know, Dick. What are we doing?”

He smiled, “Something fun. How about dinner and the comedy club?”

That would not work for me.  It would take way too much time. So I said, “Let’s save the club for another time, tomorrow is a work night.”  He agreed. And as I turned to get into my car, he laid a kiss on me that made my toes curl.  This clean-cut boy clearly had some skills.

So I went home, changed clothes, packed my bag of tricks and headed out for the first call.  It was Andy, one of my favorites.  We always had a great time together. He was the one who liked to fuck me in front of the mirror. That night was no exception. He paid for additional time and I almost forgot about my next call.  But I made it just in time.

The next regular was nothing to write home about. I loved the conversation, but the sex was mediocre. It seemed every time we saw each other, it was always mediocre. I think he wanted an escort more for the conversation than the sex. But he liked to tip.

The night was over and I was several hundred dollars richer. My thoughts reflected back to Dick. He had surprised me with that kiss. I wondered what he would be like in bed.

The next day arrived and work went by faster than usual. Before I knew it, the day was over and it was on to dinner with Dick. I’d told my “boss” Gina that I would not be available until after 9:00.

We ate at a small cafe on the river. It was nice. Romantic and charming. Dinner was delicious and the drinks were ever-flowing. I quickly found myself a bit tipsy.  He could see I was feeling good and suggested we take a walk along the river walk. We held hands and strolled about on the cobblestone path. I was thankful that I’d not worn my highest heels that night.

We approached an empty park along the way.  He quickly pushed me up against a tree and planted another one of those kisses on my unsuspecting lips. I could feel his desire. Actually, I could feel his hard cock through his pants, pressing against my body.

“Tess, I want you right here, right now. I’ve wanted you ever since I saw you. You are so damn sexy.”

I was shocked. Crisp and clean Dick had a dirty side. I liked it. Soon after, my blouse was open and my bra was off. He teased my hard nipples with his tongue.

And just as I was about to drop to my knees and show him my dirty side, my pager went off. Three times in a row.

I looked at my watch. It was 9:30. I needed to go.

“I would love to take this further, but I need to go for now.”

He backed away, defeated. “Why? Who pages you all the time?”

Oh shit, I thought…not prepared for that question, especially after so many drinks.

“I can’t explain now, but I promise, I will tell you later.”

And just like Cinderella, I fled the scene, except I didn’t leave my shoe behind…I left my bra.

I made it to a phone and got the info for the night.  Luckily it turned out to be one call, an older gent. I would be in and out (no pun intended) and done for the evening.  And just like that…I was.

But I needed to come up with something to tell Dick at work the next day.  I thought about it as I drove home. What if I just took a couple of nights off? That way, I could put the pager down, without feeling like I was missing out. And I could focus time with him, maybe for two consecutive days. That should throw him off of my trail.

The next day at work, Dick approached me just as I was getting coffee.

Leaning against the water cooler, he inquired, “So Tess, where did you run off to last night?”

I tried to be dismissive in my response. “Well Dick, I had something to do. I am helping a friend out with some things.” I answered.

“What kind of friend?” he inquired. Peering straight through me and my bullshit.

“Her name is Gina. I’d forgotten that she needed me to look in on some of her elderly clients. She runs a home care business” Damn, that was quick! (And I came up with that gem, in the morning…before coffee?) I was quite proud of my lie.

He smiled and whispered in my ear, “I know what you do, Tess. And it’s okay. It makes me want you more.”

Then he walked away to his desk. And I stood there stunned.

I managed to avoid chatting with him until later that day when Dick sauntered over to my desk. “Where would you like to go tonight, Tessa?” he asked.

I smiled and said, “how about the comedy club?”

He smiled and said, “how about my house?”

I licked my lips and grinned, “Even better, Dick. Even better.”

He moved closer to me and said, “You do make house calls don’t you, Tess?”

I grinned and said, “I sure do, Dick. For you, I will.”

(To be continued)

sex at work

(Photo credit: Google/Pinterest)

Tessa’s Tell-All, Playing Clue in the Loo

Last autumn I found myself bored and restless, a dangerous combination for a bad girl like me. I needed something to do. Something that would appeal to my dark side, but not jeopardize my happy home. Something more than writing. I craved interaction. I wanted to relive the glory days without the risk. I needed an adventure.

The Universe responded. I happened upon an article about legitimate jobs in the adult industry. The article (which was laden with affiliate links) recommended registering on a site called Sexy Jobs. Before the night was over, I created a profile and applied to a few offerings. Most of these were bogus ads that promised huge returns in exchange for pictures and videos. I wanted to keep it incognito, so I politely declined the offers.

A week later I checked the postings again and found a couple of sites that caught my interest. I completed an online application (yes…even phone sex companies have applications) and wrote a compelling cover letter with a link to this blog. Within one hour, I received a call from “the bosslady.”

She was a fast talker with an incredibly sexy voice. Her tone demanded respect and she cussed like a sailor. She did a brief interview with me by phone and asked me to reach out to her assistant the next day. Her assistant was kind, but very reserved. She shared her story of being in the industry for almost 20 years. She briefly discussed the good and bad of it all, and reassured me that I would do well. She asked that I send her my pre-employment packet, along with a signed confidentiality agreement and in two days, I started working on the phones.

I fashioned a private “office” in my enormously large closet. I put a comfy chair in the corner, with a small side table and a laptop desk. It was a perfect setup. With a few modifications, it was almost soundproof.

Based on my life experience and voice, they assigned me a character named “Nadia”. Nadia was a dirty little MILF with no taboos or limits. Nadia’s photos were uploaded on the site along with an intro and it was showtime! The first step was to enter the website’s chat room and flirt with the customers a bit. I have spent most of my life doing my dirty deeds in the flesh, so “chatting dirty” was new to me. I enjoyed it. And thirty minutes into my shift, I received my first call.

He was a regular caller that loved talking to new girls. We briefly chatted online, but I had no idea what he wanted from me. I will admit to you, I felt a bit nervous and it was exhilarating! As you know, I have almost completed my depraved bucket list, so it was nice to find something that actually excited me.

He spoke with the dispatcher and booked a 30 minute call. Suddenly it was just us on the line. I prepared myself to go in whatever direction he desired. At first, we made small talk. He had a Midwestern accent and liked my southern drawl. About ten minutes into the call, he asked me to describe what I was wearing.

Okay readers…truth be told, I was wearing some old pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. But for him, I was wearing a short, lacy nightgown and a thong. A matching ensemble. Then he asked me when I’d last used the bathroom.

WHAT? Wait a minute…we went from lacy nightgowns and thongs to the loo?

I didn’t know what to say. I could not tell what his angle was. So I kept it open and said I couldn’t remember when I’d last graced the porcelain throne. He seemed happy with that answer.

“Do you need to go now? Do you need to pee?” he asked.

And just like that, it clicked. I knew his kink. It was like playing a game of Clue…Colonel Mustard, in the library, with the candlestick! Instead, it was toilet kinkster, on the phone, with me relieving myself. Live, not recorded.

For a moment, I panicked. I didn’t need to pee at that moment. I began to wonder if I would become “bladder shy” and not be able to go on demand. My mind was racing. It was my own version of performance anxiety. But then, the old pro took over.

I answered, “Sweetheart, just give me a minute to finish this glass of wine and I will be ready.”

I could hear the excitement in his voice, “Okay, take your time. We still have about 15 minutes.”

I looked all around my office for inspiration and there it was. My answer. A water bottle, half full, sitting on my side table.

As we continued our chat, I quietly removed the cap from the bottle. We were down to 7 minutes left on the call and I could tell he was getting anxious.

“Hey baby, I am ready. I really have to go! I can barely hold it any longer!” I blurted out in the middle of him talking.

He was instantly turned on and grunted his reply, “Okay, I want to hear it. Put the phone down where I can hear it all.”

I sat on the pot, legs open. Phone in one hand. Water bottle in the other. I let the water trickle from the bottle to make it even more realistic. I drew it out. I even breathed a sigh of relief when I returned to the phone.

I could hear him pleasuring himself on the line. He was close to his ending when he said, “Let me hear you flush now.”

I pushed the lever and heard him reach his peak as it flushed. In a breathy voice he thanked me for the call and hung up.

And that, ladies and gents, was my first foray into the phone sex industry.

This is just the beginning. Stick around…there is much more to come!

pottybreak (2)

(photo credit, Pinterest)

My Best Friend’s John (Part 2)

“Tess, don’t worry about anything. This is a transaction between us. It’s business. I am not going to tell anyone, and I know you won’t say anything. Relax. It’s good.” He stroked my face and it put me at ease.

“Now take off the fucking skirt, you pretty little whore. Your sweet ass is mine for two hours.”

I slowly unzipped my skirt, letting if fall on the floor.  Underneath, I was wearing my favorite pair of Victoria’s Secret pink and black lace panties, with a bra to match. He sat on the couch and watched me. I couldn’t read his face. What was he thinking? He just glared at me, staring deep within my eyes. It almost unnerved me.

Without hesitation, he reached up and ripped my panties off.

“On your knees, slut.” he quipped.

I was flustered. I dropped to my knees facing him, thinking he wanted me to suck his cock. But that’s not what he wanted.

“Open your legs more” he ordered, “stick that ass up for me.”

I did as he asked, wondering which hole he would assault first. He came up behind me and felt my wetness. I was aroused with anticipation and fear.

“I think I want you on the couch. Bend over ass up.”

He walked over to me and pulled my ass into his face, licking my holes voraciously, as if he were starving. I shuddered with pleasure as he persisted.

“Cum you little whore. Cum for me.”

I bucked and buckled, trying to stay balanced as my legs began shaking. It felt so good that I couldn’t hold back. He wouldn’t let up. At all.

I spilled over the edge and let out expletives that would make a sailor blush.

I didn’t have a moment to regroup before I felt him inside of me. Furiously fucking me. He almost seemed angry. I loved every thrust. I loved that he held me by the hair. I loved the primal depravity of it all. He growled, “Take it slut. Take that cock.” I took the assault until I heard him bellow and roar as he climaxed.

Pulling the condom off, he looked at me and said, “I hope you know you are going to get fucked severely tonight. This was just the beginning.” I liked the sound of that. We got ourselves cleaned up and retreated to his bedroom. His bed was large and imposing with nice black sheets. His room was in meticulous order and I began to understand more of his personality.

“Get on the bed. Spread your legs.”

I got on the bed and did as he’d instructed. Most of my calls were not this involved. I wondered if he would have been this way had we not known each other? I felt his fingers probing for my hole as he pushed several inside of me. It was a tight fit and I gasped. He looked at me and grinned. He placed his thumb on my clit as he began his ravenous torture. I was so aroused and on the edge, that I felt I would explode at any moment. He knew it. He liked having that control over me.

I felt my walls caving in, encasing his digits as he abruptly stopped. “You don’t get to cum just yet.” His cock was hard and he wanted me to pleasure him. I shimmied down between his legs and took his shaft into my mouth. I took him deeply and slowly, edging in further with each stroke. Sliding my tongue all around his tightly stretched skin. He moaned with pleasure and rubbed the back of my head as I went about my work.

He pulled me up to his chest and whispered in my ear, “Ride me.”

I straddled him as he pushed his rock-hard dick inside me. He held my hips as my body began to grind on his. He pulled me down to kiss him, which is something most escorts are told not to do. I hesitated. But he held me there and passionately kissed my mouth. It felt nice with him. He rolled over on top of me and took control. Fucking me slow and deep. It was an intentional rhythm, designed to drive me mad.

“You like how I fuck you don’t you?”

I couldn’t lie. I did. I loved how he fucked me.  He was an incredible lover. His endurance was impressive. The more he gave, the more I wanted. I looked at the time and it had already been an hour and thirty minutes. His time was almost up.

“John, our time is almost over. We have about 30 minutes left.”

He looked at me and clutched my throat. “Guess I will have to work hard to get my money’s worth.”

I don’t remember many of the physical details after that moment. It was as if I had an out of body experience. The one thing I remembered was the way he whispered in my ear. The things he said to me.

He told me how he’d met a young woman in Guatemala during a business trip. She was working as a food vendor near the hotel where he was staying. He told me how he fucked her for days. How she would pass out afterward and he would do her as she slept. How she moaned and begged him for more.

He whispered all of the things he wanted to do me.  In obscene detail. All of the ways he wanted to take me. How he wanted me to scream and moan like the woman in Guatemala. How he wanted me to be so spent that I couldn’t go on my next call. How he wanted me to think of him every time I took a step. How he wanted to hear me beg. His words were intoxicating and I almost lost track of the time.

Lucky for me, my pager went off. It’s was Gina letting me know that my next client wanted to book me for the rest of the night. (All night? Fuck! I didn’t have it in me) But, I got dressed and pulled myself together. I’d never been so shaken from a call before. He was one of the most intense encounters I’d ever had. John walked me to the door wearing a smirk on his face.

He leaned down to kiss my cheek and said, “That was amazing. Count me in as a new regular. Until next time, you dirty little slut.”

on the couch (2)

(Photo credit: Pinterest)

 

 

 

 

Transparent

Where does the moth fly

Without her flame?

Where is pleasure

Without the pain?

Do we know true freedom 

Without the restraint? 

Can you paint your picture

Without the paint?

Does true love exist 

Only for one?

Or is one your moon? 

And one your sun? 


(Photo credit, Pinterest)

The Lustrous Call (Collaboration w/Braeden Michaels)

Lustrous Call

Aches for your lush voice

Tapping fingertips

Waiting beside the phone

Adoring the inflection

 

Fingers dancing

Summoning desire

Charming and playful

Feeding the fire

 

Undo the button

Manhood rising

Captivated by your desires

Lustrous glides

 

Dark greed is blinding

Wet need is rising

Wanton lips quivering

Begging for release

 

Intoxicating moans

Itching for the taste

Dripping wet

Fingers inserting

 

Whisperings trailing

Desires mounting

Oh rigid bounty

Spill overboard

 

Mesmerizing voice

Sleek strokes

Wicked fantasy

Watching the eruption

 

My Best Friend’s John

My summer was quite busy that year. Between the marathon weekends at Dick’s and my busy work schedule, I was constantly on the move. Trying to balance it all was challenging, but I loved the rush of everything.

And I will let you in on a little secret…I loved being fucked every night. 

The escort business was booming. I had a huge clientele and my nights were booked, sometimes weeks in advance. I was in such demand that I rarely had to meet with new clients. But, on occasion, I asked Gina to book with me new people. I loved that feeling. The nervous twinge of meeting a new lover for the first time made me wet with anticipation.

In spite of my booked schedule, I managed to make time for friends and family. I would carve out time with my best girlfriends. Most of them had no idea what I was doing. They would have been appalled at the thought of having sex for money. Funny thing, most of them were married, stay at home wives…having sex with their husbands for money. Same thing, different label. One my best friends, Paula, knew all about what I did. She was open-minded and loved hearing my naughty stories.

She was a gorgeous, raven-haired woman. Tall and curvy, she was beautiful. We met at work (my legit day job). She was new to the area and had recently relocated with her long-term boyfriend, leaving her hometown in North Carolina, to be with him. I just loved Paula. We were fast friends. She was my safe space. I could tell her anything, and I told her everything. Not long after, she and John purchased a house, and then they broke up. They had this volatile, on-again/off-again relationship. Much like Sid and Nancy, but without the heroin. After this last breakup, Paula met a great guy and decided to get married. And just like that…they did.

I was at home on a Sunday afternoon, spending the allotted time with my parents, when I heard the faint buzz of my pager from the bedroom. I knew it was Gina. But my first call was not until 10:00 pm. It was only 4:30. I wondered if they’d canceled. I called her as soon as I could.

“Hey Gina, what’s up?” I asked.

“Not much, doll. You up for taking on a new client?” she asked.

“When?” I asked.

“He’s asked for someone to be over around 7:00. It’s a house call. I know the area. It’s a nice neighborhood. You may get yourself a new regular…”

She knew how to sell me. Seriously, I learned most of my sales techniques from Gina. She was the master.

“Sure! I will go.”

She was pleased. She said, “I think you’ll like this guy. He sounds like your type.”

I laughed and said, “Really? So what is my type?”

“You like them dirty. I get the feeling you’re in for a fun night. Call me and check in when you get there.”

At 7:00, I pulled into up to the house. It was a nice 2-story Cape Cod with a large privacy fence in the back. I noticed the gray Mercedes in the driveway with North Carolina plates. I instantly thought of Paula…she was from North Carolina. Interesting.

I walked up to the door and rang the bell.

I was not prepared. Simply, not prepared. 

Standing in front of me was John, Paula’s ex. There was a look of recognition in his eyes and then I watched his lips curl into a most sinister grin. I didn’t know whether to be excited or scared.

“Why, hello there. Don’t I know you?” he smirked. SHIT! This had never happened before…being on a call with someone I knew!  I was at a loss for what to do…what to say…so I smiled back as I stepped into his house, brushing by him. I looked back with a naughty grin and said, “You do, John. But I think you are about to get to know me on a much deeper level.”

And just like that, I set the tone.

Once inside, I called Gina to check in. There was no way for me to tell her the situation, as he was standing right there. I just did my typical check-in and before I hung up, he asked to speak with her.

He stared at me as I gave him the phone.

“Hello, Gina. Yes…everything is fine. It’s very good. I would actually like to book an extra hour, if that’s possible.”

Gina asked to speak with me and I consented, so it was set. I was going to spend two hours there. With my best friend’s ex-boyfriend. Who was paying me as an escort. You truly cannot make this shit up. 

We retired to the couch for small talk. I was more nervous that usual. This guy actually knew me…my real name…where I worked. I wondered if he would tell anyone. My mind was racing. He could clearly see that I was uneasy.

“Tess, don’t worry about anything. This is a transaction between us. It’s business. I am not going to tell anyone, and I know you won’t say anything. Relax. It’s good.” He stroked my face and it put me at ease.

“Now take off the fucking skirt, you pretty little whore. Your sweet ass is mine for two hours.”

(To be continued)

house call1

(Photo credit, Pinterest)

The Connoisseur

lollipop

For the last three decades, I have managed to tangle myself in some precarious predicaments.  Most of these sordid scenarios involved a man, or men (note the shift to plural) and sex was always on tap.  Quite honestly I stopped keeping a numeric record of my conquests many years ago.  It was too taxing to place a number on each of them.  So instead, I began keeping a mental “top ten” list.

Today, I would like to dish on my top cocks.  Yes, you read that correctly.  I know…how crude.  But let me just cut to the chase…I love cock.  I worship cock.  Over the years I have had them in all shapes and sizes.  You could say that I have become a bit of a connoisseur (or “cockisseur”) from my vast experience.  I study them.  I learn from them.  To this day, every time I pleasure my One, I learn something new.  A new trick.  A new sensation.  A new way to please Him more.  And believe me, I am always hungry and thirsty for knowledge.

Let’s start this countdown of my most memorable members, with those who packed some serious heat.  It’s often said that “size doesn’t matter” and I couldn’t agree more.  However…there is something to be experienced when you are stretched and filled to capacity.  When every movement is a reminder of their impressive stature.  And let me clarify before I go any further…these are not my top ten lovers.  I am only talking about cock.  A person could be hung like a Derby winner, but have the sex skills of Sheldon.

Which brings me to…the doctor.  Not a medical doctor, but rather a PhD (note, the D stands for DICK).  I met him online.  He lived on the coast about 2 hours from me.  He coaxed me to visit him one weekend.  Prior to that we talked for weeks and exchanged photos.  He was average looking, but seemed like a nice guy.  As our conversations progressed, he sent me a picture of his impressive cock.  And I honestly thought he had photo-shopped it, or copied a pic online.  So I wasn’t expecting much.  He was more average looking than his pic and quite short…but DAMN.  His dick was huge.  And he had a piercing.  I’d never experienced anything like that.  He fucked me on his balcony in broad open daylight and I am sure anyone in a two mile radius heard me.  Every thrust made me gasp in ecstasy.  But he couldn’t hold a conversation.  He had very peculiar eating habits, and acted like Rain Man in the restaurant.  He was just a bit weird and socially awkward.  I realized quickly that we would never go any further than the weekend.  All I wanted was the sex…so we stopped trying to talk, we stopped trying to connect and we fucked until we both passed out, woke up and then, we fucked again.

There were a few others that fall into “The Heat Packers” category.  There was the older gentleman, who was into BDSM and introduced me to caning. (Such fond memories) He was quite a bit older than he professed, and I was initially put off by it.  I don’t like deception.  I almost backed out of our encounter, until I saw what he was packing.  This senior had a cock the size of my forearm and he was quite savvy with using it.  He was an expert in Tantric sex and he taught this little girl a thing or two…or ten.  I felt like I gushed every time he pushed himself inside me.

There was the retired NFL player.  I had never seen anything like Mr. Johnson’s Johnson.  I salivated from both sets of lips.  I didn’t know if I wanted to mount him or suck him first.  I just knew…I wanted him inside me.  And I left his place that night with TMJ from having to open my mouth so wide…and I could barely walk.  For DAYS.  Moral of the story…you can have too much of a good thing.

Enough of the big stuff…let’s dish on the others.  There was “Captain Hook” whose cock had an actual curve to it, to the left.  I was disappointed when I first saw it thinking it wouldn’t hit the right spots.  Boy…was I wrong.  The “hook” hooked me.  He understood how to use the curve to his advantage.  And I had another one whose member curved upwards.  That was another fun time.  And was especially hot when we did anal. It was the perfect blend of pleasure and pain.

There are the “pretty boys” whose cocks were a work of art.  If I possessed artistic flair, these are the ones I would have sketched, framed and put in my living room on display…on a fucking gallery wall.  The one that comes to mind is the drill instructor whose face and physique were a work of art…and when he dropped trou, I saw the clouds part and heard angels sing.  His cock was perfection.  Smooth.  Nice girth.  Perfect length.  The head was well-defined and fit snugly in my throat.  I loved to worship him.  I loved looking at his perfect member.  I loved how he fucked me.

There was my college boyfriend.  He had a beautiful dick.  He was ahead of the times and was clean shaven before it became popular and his cock was long and smooth.  It was very long.  He was 6’4 and his member was a representation of his long stature.  I remember how he would wake me up in the morning, already inside me.  I have never enjoyed a wake-up call as much I did then.

There are the “don’t judge the book by the cover” ones.  As I mentioned earlier in the post, I was surprised by how some of the most unassuming ones, were packing heat.  There were those who were absolutely incognito.  There was the detective.  He was a client of mine, when I worked for the escort service.  I was a bit worried when I realized he was in law enforcement…and thought…well, here goes, I’ll be in jail by midnight.  But he truly just wanted to fuck someone who was not as inhibited as his dowdy little wife.  He wore glasses and looked the part of a nerd.  Not judging ( I love a nerd) and I thought…okay, let’s get this over with.  I was surprised, he had a very nice dick.  Well-proportioned.  And once clothes were off, he lost his nerd-like demeanor and handled his business.  He paid for an extra hour and even fucked me in the ass. He was confident because he was aware of his manhood.  And on the flip side…there was the triathlete who had some serious swagger.  I was anticipating a wild romp in the hay…but not the case.  His endurance was limited to athletics and I wondered if he had used steroids.  We will just leave it at that.

So to recap…I have had my share of surprises, disappointments and more than my fair share of learning along the way.  One thing is I am and always will be enamored with the male anatomy.  It’s certainly not penis-envy, but rather pure adoration and appreciation of cock.  And on that note, I will close.

Think it’s time to “adore and appreciate” someone…

the goods

(Photo credits, Pinterest)

Obsidian

My obsidian soul

My hidden places

And murky corners

All within

Dark and needy

Loud and greedy

A taste for sin

In those corners

Opaque and bleak

He can see

The light within

Despite the sin

Taking all of me

As I am

Without fear

Without shame

He knows my heart

He knows my name

As do I…

I am his

He is mine

unmasked

(Photo credit: Pinterest)

Stay Tuned…

A few weeks ago, my dear friend and fellow blogger, the lovely Lady G, recommended a collaboration, of sorts. She commented that due to our similar sultry subject matter, perhaps Braeden Michaels and I should collaborate on something together.

As the resident naughty girl of my neighborhood, I took that suggestion as an open invitation to introduce myself to Braeden, a most talented and mysterious gentleman. He writes with such depth and darkness. Since our demons play so well together, we instantly connected and came up with a little something we think you may like.

Stay tuned…it’s coming.

T and B

 

Sand and Surf (Conclusion)

“Let’s go down to the pool” he said.

“I don’t have my swimsuit with me” I said. We were staying in the same hotel, but I didn’t want to risk waking Wendy’s parents trying to get it.

Tony looked at me and grinned. “Don’t worry. You won’t need it”

At his recommendation, I threw on one of his t-shirts, grabbed some towels and followed him into the hallway. I had nothing on underneath. In fact, it was the one time in my existence that I wore an Ohio State t-shirt, which was blasphemous for a Georgia girl.

We made our way to the pool. It was empty except for a middle-aged couple in the hot tub.  They’d been drinking and were talking a bit loud. They left a few minutes after we arrived.  As soon as they were out of sight, Tony turned to me and said, “Let’s get in the pool”

He took his shorts off and stood there naked, impatiently waiting for me to take off the t-shirt, and join him in the water. I was a bit nervous. After all, I was on vacation, with my best friend and her parents, who were staying in the same hotel. But hell, I’d already had sex on the beach, in the open, at least the pool was a bit more secluded and dimly lit.

I took off the t-shirt and followed Tony into the pool. It was as warm as bath water. We swam around and splashed each other. It was just another form of foreplay for us. He pulled me over to one of the ladders. I thought he wanted to get out, so I began to climb up the ladder, when he came up behind me and grabbed my breasts. I felt his hard cock on my leg. I could see he was ready to finish what we’d started upstairs.

I opened my legs wider as I held onto the ladder for support. He steadied himself with one hand on the ladder and the other on my hip, as I felt him enter me. It was so erotic. Being in the water, naked, in public, with no concern for who may see us. I loved how the water made us weightless as we moved in sync on the ladder.

He pulled me closer into his body, whispering in my ear. “You know what I really want, Tess?” he asked. “I want you to suck me under water. Do you think you can do that?”

I pondered it for about 3.5 seconds as I turned to face him.

“Turn around and sit on the ladder.” I said.

He sat on the ladder and stroked his cock beneath the water. I could see how turned on he was. I took a deep breath and dove underwater to face him. I got very close to his body and managed to take his cock into my mouth without having to come up again for air. He put his hands on my head and guided the pace. I was not able to do it for long before coming to the surface to breathe.

I felt like a naughty mermaid, enchanting her lover. I was quite impressed with myself. All of those swim lessons at the YMCA, sure paid off. Soon I descended beneath the surface and took him in my mouth again. This time, I was able to suck a little longer. I would emerge for air and excitedly return to my task below. Each time it seemed I was able to stay down for bit more time. He loved it.

His pace quickened and I could tell he was ready to explode. He pulled me back to the surface as he wanted to fuck me again. We swam together over to the shallow end. He had me sit on one of the steps leading into the water. I faced him as he pulled my legs up by the ankles, opening me wide. I held onto the rail and he fucked me right there. On the concrete steps. My back hurt from the pressure, but I didn’t care.

Afterward we got out the pool, dried off and put on our clothes (remember, for me it was just his t-shirt). We were both exhausted and decided to lay on some lounge chairs by the pool before heading back upstairs. In a matter of minutes, we fell asleep.

I woke up to Wendy standing over me fussing. “Get up! It’s 4:00. My mom is going to be pissed!” Apparently, she and John had fallen asleep upstairs. I jumped up and grabbed my sandals, scurrying off with Wendy. Tony was still passed out by the pool. John was coming down the stairs to get him, as we were going up.

We managed to slip into our room undetected, artfully sliding into bed without a sound.  In typical fashion, Wendy’s mother woke us up around 7:00. Bleary-eyed and sore, I stumbled to the bathroom for a shower and realized that I was still wearing Tony’s Ohio State t-shirt. Lucky for me, no one noticed.

Later that afternoon, we packed up to return home. We’d originally planned on staying one more night, but Wendy’s sister was feeling ill, so we cut the trip short. Which was fine with me. After all, I’d played on the beach with Aaron, learning more than I ever wanted to know about sand. I’d played in the water with Tony, learning an important life skill that gives new meaning to the term “snorkeling.”

By my tawdry standards, it was a very successful trip.

pool sex-rev

(Photo credit: Pinterest)