oral sex

A Man Named Dick (part 3)

He was standing in front of me and the boyish grin had faded. I recognized the look in his eyes. He was a hedonistic beast enslaved with lust, determined to have his way with me.  He picked me up by my ankles and pulled me over to the edge of the bed.

“Hold your hips up off of the bed, until I tell you to stop.” he ordered. “Up. Up. I want them suspended up. Good. Just like that”

I balanced my hips in the air, slightly off of the bed as he instructed. He then spread my legs open and dropped to his knees pulling my hips into his face. His tongue was experienced and unforgiving as he consumed me. I was at his mercy and he knew it. He held me at an angle where my only choice was to take what he dished out. As much as I wanted to squirm, there was nowhere to run. He had me. In a matter of minutes, oceans of orgasms washed over me. There was no time to recover. He pushed my legs back to my shoulders and pushed himself inside me. All of his ample cock filled me at once. He hooked his arms under mine and held the tops of my feet to my shoulders as he proceeded to savagely fuck the hell out of me.  Just as I was about to reach my edge, he stopped.

He flipped me over to my stomach and took me from behind. I’ve always enjoyed it like that, but he picked up my leg and held my foot on his shoulder. He drove himself in deeper in that position and my legs began to shudder from my impending orgasm.

“You like that don’t you, Tess? I bet you don’t get done like this when that pager beeps, do you?”

I couldn’t even muster a word. I was spilling over the edge as was he. We collapsed from the frenzied fuckfest we’d just had. I looked over at him and the beast was gone. Dick was back, smiling that boyish grin.

“Did you enjoy that, Dick” I coyly asked.

“Of course I did. But the real question is, did YOU enjoy it, Tessa?”

I looked up at him, makeup smeared, hair sweaty, heart racing and said, “Yes. I was surprised by you. I didn’t take you for such a bad boy.”

He smiled and got up from the bed. “Yeah, most people think I am nice guy. And I am, but I have a dark side. Now let’s get dressed and go out.”

WTH? Disco Hell? After all of that?

We arrived at the Red Lion Pub around midnight.  The parking lot was full and you could hear the music from outside. The place was packed. I’d managed to pull myself together  with a quick shower and another drink. My outfit was perfect for the occasion. Dick seemed to like it.  He looked disco-chic, wearing some black pants and a dark blue button down, opened up to his chest. He was sporting a fake gold medallion necklace and totally looked the part. It was fun to dress up like that for a change.

We walked in and went to the bar. Dick ordered us a round of shots.  And another. After all of that sex and no dinner, I was almost drunk.  Dick led me to the dance floor and we starting dancing.

This clean cut boy was just full of surprises. Not only was he a sex machine, but he had some smooth moves. Pretty soon, we were in full swing…like we were in the dance contest on Saturday Night Fever. We never left the dance floor. It was great fun.

We closed down the pub around 3:00 and ventured back to his house.  I was thirsty and starving. And sore. With all of the acrobatic sex and dancing, I felt like I’d just done a P90X (more like a P90-SEX) workout. We’d been so “busy” all night, that we’d both forgotten to eat. He suggested we make breakfast together and I was all for that.

He retrieved some eggs and butter from the fridge for scrambled eggs. He asked me to make them while he put on some coffee and made the toast.  I love to cook, so I was happy to oblige. Just as I finished whisking the eggs, I felt him standing behind me.  His hand ventured up my skirt and he slowly pulled my panties down.

“What about the eggs?” I asked. I knew once we got started, there would be no way I could cook.

“Just keep doing what you are doing, Tessa” he quipped.

So I managed to pour the eggs into the hot pan and finish them. He stood behind me the entire time. I moved the pan to a cool place on the stove and turned to face him.

“The eggs are ready” I said.

“I know. We should let them cool a bit, don’t you think?”

I agreed. I could see that he wanted me right there in the kitchen. I recognized that look in his eyes. I turned back around to make sure I’d turned off the stove and he moved in closer behind me, pulling up my skirt as he unzipped his pants.  I could feel his hard cock touching my back. I wanted him again, badly.

He reached for the stick of butter on the counter. He unwrapped it and began smearing it all over his fingers. I was a bit confused as to what he was doing. I’d experimented with “food” play before, but never with butter.

Before I could figure out what was about to happen, I felt the cold stick of butter on my ass. Was he really smearing butter on my ass? And then he spread my cheeks and rubbed the stick of butter around my hole, fingering it with his slippery fingers. It was unlike anything I’d felt before. The butter was becoming soft in his grip and he slathered some on his cock. Then I got the memo. He was going to take my ass…right then, right there in the kitchen and butter was his medium.

You know, this brings a whole new take on buttering the biscuits…

(To be continued)

in the kitchen-best

(Photo credit, Pinterest)

On the Job Training

He was in his mid twenties.  Fresh out of college and ready to save the world.  He’d just finished his Masters degree in Social Work and he was on a mission. We already had a full time social worker, so he settled for a job in activities…just to get his foot in the door in healthcare.  His name was Mike.

Initially, I wasn’t attracted to him at all.  Keep in mind, Greg and I were still seeing each other on occasion, and I had no intentions of juggling more than what I already had…the one at home and the one at work. But Mike was such a nice guy…clean cut…well-dressed…punctual…polite.  He was great with the patients, although he was lacking in variety.  They did the same activities over and over.  Other than the repetition, he was doing a good job.

One evening, I was working late trying to catch up with my documentation.  He happened to be there also.  We spoke in the hall and I noticed him walking by my office a few times. I could tell he wanted to say something, but didn’t.  The next time I saw him walk by, I looked up and said, “Hey Mike!  How late are you working tonight?”

He seemed relieved that I’d spoken first.  He walked in my office, almost nervous, and said,”I don’t know.  I am waiting on my roommate to pick me up and he’s late.  I can’t get him on the phone. So I may be stuck here for a long time.”

I sincerely felt bad for him.  He was from another state, so he had no family here.  All he had were his co-workers and roommates.  I’d heard him say the he was saving up to get a new car, as his was beyond repair.  I thought…why not?  “Mike, let me give you a ride home tonight.  There’s no need for you to wait around all night.  I will be ready in about 15 minutes.  Does that work for you?”

He perked up, “Yes Ma’am.  That’s great!  Thank you!”

I was a little perplexed that he’d referred to me as “ma’am” but I was older than him, so I let it go without much thought.  When it was time to leave, he met my outside by my SUV.  He stood at the driver’s side and opened my door for me, which was a surprising nice touch.  As I drove him home, he asked if we could stop by a gas station.  I thought he needed something, but instead he walked inside and paid for gas for me.  I thought…WOW…this kid was raised right!

We pulled up to his place around 8:00.  He thanked me for the ride and walked inside.  When I arrived at work the next day, there was a cup of coffee on my desk, with a note, “Thanks for the ride, Ms. Tessa.  Enjoy your coffee”  What a sweetheart!  Then Greg walked into my office and said, “where did you get coffee?”

I smiled and said, “Mike got it for me. I gave him a ride home last night.”

I could tell he was not pleased. He smirked, “Yeah, he’s had eyes for you since he got here. Watch those young ones.  They are trouble.” And with that he walked out, heading to the morning meeting.  Whoa…I had no idea he was the jealous type.  I kind of liked it.

I arrived at the morning meeting a bit late (as always) and there were no other chairs  left for me to sit down. Dammit! It’s no fun standing in there for 30 minutes, trying to balance coffee and a notepad.  But before I could blink, Mike got up from his seat and motioned for me to take his seat.  I was reluctant at first, but I gave in.  My stilettos were high and my motivation was low…so it was a welcomed seat.  I could feel Greg’s eyes watching and I knew he was not happy.  But he liked standing up, so he didn’t have a seat to offer me.

After the meeting, I walked into my office and began my day.  It was super busy and before I knew it, it was lunchtime. I went to the break room to retrieve my lunch and Mike was in there, eating his sandwich.  I planned to eat in my office, but he pulled out a chair beside him and I felt obligated to join him  “How has your day been, Ms. Tessa?” he asked.

“It’s been busy, so your coffee hit the spot this morning.  Thank you. That was sweet of you.”  I caught him blushing as he said, “You’re welcome, Ms. Tessa”

I had to say it…”You do realize that I am only about five years older than you, don’t you?  You don’t have to call me Ms. or ma’am.  It’s sweet, but not necessary.”

He blushed again…poor thing. “I’m sorry.  I just wanted you to know how much I respect you.”

And then I saw it…what Greg was referring to…the boy had a crush on me.  Bless his heart.  “Mike, you are such a kind soul.  I appreciate your intention.  By the way, how’s the car search going?”

“It’s going.  Only have to save another few paychecks to put the money down I need.” And I made an executive decision.  This young man was trying so hard…trying to make it on his own, that I needed to help him.

“Let me know if you ever need a ride.  I am glad to do what I can to help you.” and with that, I walked out.

A few days later, Mike stopped by my office.  “Is there any way you could give me a ride today?”  I was happy to help him.  When 5:00 arrived, he was at my office, ready to go.  I was bringing home a stack of files and before I could pick them up, he had them. It felt like he was carrying my books after school.  We got to the car and once again, he opened my door.  I took him home a few times over the next few weeks.

This infuriated Greg.  We were growing apart before all of this, but his attitude towards Mike pushed me further away.  We’d been seeing each other for over a year and we were approaching an impasse. We’d gone as far as we could go in our situation, and it was time to slowly back away.  So we decided to be friends…without benefits.

And Mike and I became closer.  He was such a sweet and charming young man, that the thought of crossing the line, never crossed my mind. But one day, as I drove him home he put his hand on mine as we approached his apartment.

“Tessa, I really like you in a way that I probably shouldn’t.  And if you are not interested, I will never mention it again. But if you are, I’d love for you to come inside and let me show you how much I care for you.”

Speechless, I didn’t know what to say.  I didn’t know what to do. I knew I would blow his young mind and then I’d have a ‘stage 5 clinger’ on my hands. But I was intrigued.  It took serious balls to say what he did and it made me wonder if he didn’t have some swagger hidden underneath that college boy demeanor.

So I threw the car in park and leaned over to kiss him. That would tell me what I needed to know. And it left me breathless, wanting more.  He walked over to my side of the car, opened the door, took my hand and led me into his apartment.  His roommate was working 2nd shift, so we were alone.

Clothes began coming off in the doorway. He was a passionate kisser and seemed very experienced at removing a bra…Hmmm, maybe he has some chops.  Then he backed me up to the kitchen counter and pulled my panties down.  He knelt in front of me, lifting me by the legs with his shoulders, propping me up on the counter.  He spread me open and tasted my wetness as if I were a delicacy.  His tongue was long and adept and he knew how to drive me to the edge.  He made me cum right there in his kitchen.

He walked me to his room, laying me down on his bed.  “I cannot wait to feel inside you.  I have wanted you from the time we met.”  He positioned himself on top of me, opening my legs with his hips.  Looking into my eyes he pushed himself inside.  He let out a long moan. Grasping my hips he pushed deeper, making me scream. We developed a hypnotic rhythm as our bodies fused together.  He took my hands in his and we stared in each others eyes as we climaxed.  It was intensely hot and I wanted more.

For weeks we carried on like that.  After work.  Before work.  At lunch.  The sex was hot and exciting.  In his youthful form, he was able to rebound in a matter of minutes.  So we fucked.  A lot.  We became consumed by our addiction to each other.  On the flip side, I was becoming more and more successful at work.  My new little tryst proved to be energizing for me.  I was number one in the company for three months in a row.  I attribute it to being happy and sated.  Even Greg noticed a change in me…but thankfully, he never figured out that Mike was the cause of it.  I was flourishing!  I made sure all of my work was done in a timely manner, so I could leave at 4:30 and have time to get my brains fucked out before going home.  

Mike didn’t fare so well. He was stuck in a perpetual love hangover.  He fell head over heels in love with me and didn’t focus on his work.  I tried to help him in any way I could. I even stopped seeing him for a while trying to rid him of the distraction, but he was too far gone.  The poor guy was lovesick.  Literally.  He gave up on his job and became obsessed with us.  I told him the rules from the beginning, no falling in love…but he allowed himself to fall hard.

Soon after, I was promoted to a regional position that required I travel all the time.  I later found out that Mike was let go. He wasn’t showing up for work. He was missing activities. He was a total mess.  He is the reason for the old adage…“don’t put your meat where you make your bread.” Some people cannot handle it.

About 7 years ago, I saw him at a workshop.  He landed a great job in social services, helping foster children…perfect for what he wanted.  He was engaged to one of his co-workers (imagine that) and he looked happy.  I was genuinely tickled to see him.  We hugged and reminisced for a few, and then went our separate ways.  I keep up with how he’s doing through a mutual friend, but we’ve not talked since.  I am glad he is doing well.

Looks like all that on-the-job-training served him well.  Bless his heart!   

hungry

(Photo credit, Pinterest)

 

 

Is It a Crime?

The year was 1986.

I was quite the social butterfly that summer.  I’d made many new friends in my neighborhood and we were always sleeping over at each other’s houses.  I had finally started to like the area, when I found out we were moving from upstate South Carolina, back to Georgia.  Needless to say, I was not happy.  But there was nothing I could do about it, so I partied like it was 1999, in 1986.  I knew my time was limited, so I threw caution to the wind (not that I ever held it in my hand) and made the most of every single minute there!

As I’ve shared, there were many young men in my “harem” at that time…the good boys, the bad boys…the preppy boys….the ones too old for me…the pretty boys, and of course, the preacher’s son.  I felt it was high time for me to try my hand at the dangerous boys.  I knew exactly who I wanted, but had no clue as to how or when I could make it happen.

His name was Anastasios.  His parents owned the only Greek restaurant in town.  Tasso (as he preferred to be called) was about 19 years old and worked in his parent’s restaurant, among other things.  I say this because he owned a brand new top of the line black Mercedes Benz.  You don’t make that kind of cash, working as a waiter. His parents drove a beat up station wagon.  No, there was more to his story that meets the eye.  I suspected he was selling drugs, but could never confirm it.  The cloud of suspicion was just enough to wet my whistle and I wanted this Hellenic bad boy.

I talked one of my new friends into having lunch with me at the restaurant. She hated Greek food, but tagged along to help me with my plan.  He was not our waiter, but I got his attention with one of my sultry looks from across the room.  He grinned and took our table from his sister who was waiting on us.  We’d not placed our food order when he sauntered over to our table.

“Hello, I’m Tasso.  What you two girls hungry for?” he said, with a mischievous grin.

That was all the encouragement I needed…I replied with, “I am hungry.  Very hungry.  Just don’t know what it is that I have a taste for” and I licked my lips.

He retorted, “Oh, I think you do.  I think you know exactly what you want” and he stared me in the eyes.  It scared the shit out of me.  I was accustomed to being the aggressor.  Maybe I was biting off more that I could swallow, before I tasted my first bite.

I stuttered my order of souvlaki and spanakopita and shyly looked down at my hands.  His directness was sexy and scary at the same time.  He knelt down to meet my gaze.  “What else can I get for you, Tessa?”

He knows my name?  How does he know my name?  I was flustered, but regained my composure, as I perceived his knowledge of who I was…as a victory in this tête–à–tête we were having.

I looked into his obsidian eyes, smiled and said, “I think you know, Tasso”

My poor friend.  She was just there as my wingman, and she was in the middle of all of this. But she took it like a champ and choked down her feta like a good friend would.  The food came out and as I was eating, Tasso handed me a note.

“I want to see you.  Meet me tonight.  I can have my driver pick you up.”

His driver?  WHAT?  Why would a 19 year old waiter have a driver for his brand new Mercedes?  The intrigue was building with each exchange.

I wrote him back with two words, “When? Where?”

He knelt down beside me and said, “We will come get you at your house.  Where do you live?”

I giggled.  Like my parents were going to let their young teenage daughter ride off into the sunset with Zorba and his driver.  “I will have to meet you somewhere besides my house.  Strict parents, you know.”

He nodded.  And then he whispered in my ear.  “You probably need to let loose, if you’ve got strict parents, huh?  I know just what you need.”

We made arrangements for him to pick me up at 9:30 at my friend Erica’s house.  She lived several houses down and I wouldn’t be seen by my parents, or curious neighbors.  I made up a story about a slumber party, packed a bag and headed to Erica’s.  I called my mom when I got there and told her I would walk home in the morning.  She didn’t suspect a thing.  Erica’s parents were potheads, so they had no clue who was at the house, who left the house or who came into the house.  They were usually stoned.

9:30 arrived and I saw the headlights pull into the driveway.  An older Greek man stepped out of the driver’s seat and opened the door to the backseat, as if he were a limo driver.  He said nothing, just nodded to me.  I got in the back, sitting next to Tasso, who looked delicious.  He had on a white jacket, linen pants and a pale blue shirt.  Very Miami Vice (which was popular).Very sexy.

He held my hand as the driver took us to the destination.  I had no idea where we were going and that was exciting.  The whole thing was exciting.  Tasso was quiet, but said something in Greek to the driver.  He put on some music and Tasso leaned over and smelled my hair. “You smell good”

“Thank you, so do you.” I said

“What is Tasso going to do with such a sweet young lady?” he said to himself.  His thick Greek accent was oozing with sex and I was ready to see what happened next.  The driver turned onto a road with a boat dock.  Parked the car in a secluded area and stepped out, facing away from the car.

“It’s just us now.  Tell me what you’re hungry for.”and he leaned over and kissed me.  “Tasso wants you.  He wants to show how hungry he is for you.”

Af first, I was put off with how he referred to himself in third person, but it was his language barrier.  It made him different.  Added to the intrigue.

He kissed me like no one else has, before or after him. He was so passionate, so in the moment.  Before I knew it my clothes were in the front seat and he was still fully dressed. He picked up my hips, pulled my thighs apart, tasting me at first, then devouring me.  He was relentless in his quest. He held me there for such a long time, that I was drenched in sweat and delirious from the pleasure.  I was experienced in sex, but had never had ANYONE pleasure me like that. He would come up from his meal to ask me if I wanted more.  I didn’t know how to respond.  I wanted more, but could I take more?

I managed to mutter, “Yes” and he kept on.  He treated me as if I were a 7 course meal.  I was thirsty and spent and we’d not even had sex yet.  He tapped on the steamed window..His driver came to the door and Tasso said something in Greek.  The driver opened the trunk and handed Tasso a glass bottle.

“This is a Greek drink.  You will like it.” he handed it to me after he sipped it.  It tasted like licorice and I did like it.  In fact, I drank too much too fast and felt like I was floating. I faded in and out for a few minutes as Tasso carried on with his dinner.  I came back down to reality and noticed that he was completely undressed.  He took my hand and guided it to his hard cock, showing me how he wanted me to stroke it.  I did exactly as he showed me and then I took him in my mouth.  I was so uninhibited by the drink (I later found out was called ouzo)  that I took him deep.  I returned the favor in a big way.

He was so aroused by my performance that he could no longer hold back.  He turned me to face the side window and fucked me like a god. He flipped me on my back and devoured me again before he continued fucking me some more.  All the while, he said dirty things.  He described how I felt to him, growling as he plunged into my sex.  He talked about how I tasted and how he wanted more of me..how he wanted me to pass out from the pleasure he gave me….how he wanted my lips on his wet cock before he finished fucking me…I had never been talked to like that before and I loved it.  He was indeed that bad boy I craved.

We stayed in that spot for another couple of hours, while his driver waited outside. He had retrieved a chair from the trunk and sat a few feet from the front of the car.  His presence no longer bothered me.  We had the windows down and I didn’t care if anyone heard me moan or scream or beg for more.  It was too good for me to stop.

That was the only time we were together.  After our marathon of an evening, his driver took us to the restaurant.  It was dark and empty.  Tasso fixed us a snack and playing over the speakers was “An Evening with Sade”.  The radio station would play an entire album late at night and call it “An Evening with….” That was the first time I heard, “Is it Crime” and I smiled to myself…knowing what we’d done bordered on criminal…knowing whatever he did to afford his luxury lifestyle was criminal…knowing that my web of lies to get out for the evening was criminal.  I was such a bad girl.

I got back to Erica’s house around 4:00 am.  I was exhausted and sore.  The next day I awoke to find bite marks all over my body.  We had feasted on each other and left evidence to prove it. I didn’t care.  I would find a way to cover my tracks.  I always did.

A few years ago, while working for hospice, I had the opportunity to pass through my old town in the upstate. His family’s Greek restaurant had been replaced by some franchised chain.  There was no trace of Tasso.  And even though it was one night, I will never forget my evening with him.

tasso

 (Photo credit, Pinterest)

The Good Girl’s Guide to Hot Sex

Regardless of what you are in to.

Regardless of your kinks.

Regardless if you are a straight-laced woman, or a once a week…missionary-only man, we all love sex.

And I especially love sex, the hotter…the dirtier…the better.

In the “Good Girl’s Guide” series, I often discuss the need to ask for what you want.  To not be afraid, ashamed, or intimidated by your desires.  To figure out what makes you tick.  To learn how to verbalize your wants.

And let me just say…in some cases, talk is overrated.  Sometimes it is best to demonstrate what you want, or just simply take it.  Take the initiative.  Allow your primal instincts…your inner beast to take you over and fuck the living hell out of your prey.

If I want to get laid in a big way, I start dropping hints early.  In fact, I may start his morning with a wake-up blow job.  Flipping his switch to ON from the beginning.  He will be preoccupied all day, thinking of how far you took him down your throat.

I send naughty texts and pics to make sure he stays ON.  Most of us do this from time to time, but the captions I include ensure a wild romp in the hay.  “My pussy is throbbing thinking of you fucking me.  Have a nice day, baby.”  That always gets my One going.

I think of how I want the evening to go.  I tap into deep and dark fantasies.  I allow myself to become aroused.  I embrace the fact that my panties are moist and if they become too wet, I take them off midday.  I ready myself for what I want.

When we are finally in each other’s presence…we are so charged from the day’s interactions, that we could fuck at the front door.  But to coax out the beast, I play coy.  I fix dinner.  I tidy up the house.  I hold him off for just a minute longer. (Which I must confess…is extremely difficult for me.)  Trust me, it is worth it.

There are no words to describe this level of unbridled passion, so I am not going to insult you  by trying to do so.  I find myself doing things I would not typically do.  Any inhibitions that lurk in the back of my head are gone. Clothes get ripped off.  Sometimes to tease the beast, I slide my fingers into my wet hole and smear my essence on his lips and kiss him voraciously.  I am blinded by carnal lust and would do ANYTHING at that moment, as would he.  We are consumed with the beasts within, seeking pleasure at all costs.

floor2

It is primal.  It is molten hot.  And it’s deliciously dirty.  In the end, the sheets are soaked. As orally gifted as I am, I somehow end up with cum in my hair.  I’ve straddled his mouth so much that his face looks like a glazed doughnut.  And we both have a sated smile…a deep satisfaction that only hot, dirty, lustful sex brings.

I suggest you try it sometime.  Make it impromptu or let it build up for a couple of days.  Just leave your inhibitions and panties on the floor and get down and dirty.  Fuck him like you are getting paid for it and you are up for a promotion.  I guarantee you will get a raise.

Now if you will excuse me…I have some panties to ditch and a job to do.

spine