wide open territory

Just got back from a spa near Union Square in Manhattan courtesy of Mr. B.

Friday, every hour on the hour, Mr. B. would call me, and I would talk to him. He was at work. He would call me from his office, surrounded by people, and I would tell him what I was doing to myself. He would respond with things like, "Yeah, I know we need to get out of this deal." Or, "Have you talked to John about the interest on that - I think he can pull some strings."

Apparently, he never has to stand up.

At one point, at about two o'clock in the afternoon, he called me from a bathroom stall in his office building. He was on a cell phone. I had taken a picture of my fingers sliding out of my pussy, which, after five hours of this kind of teasing, were, well, wet. Then I sent it to him as an attachment. This, apparently, was just too much.

He was whispering. He told me to strip, which I did quickly, and spread my legs. He wanted to hear me fuck myself with my hand, which I did. He told me to bring myself just to the point of cumming, and that he wanted to listen. So I did. Then I told him to do a few things - like unzip his cock, spit on his hand and rub the head a bit, slowly. He was groaning - calling me a little bitch, telling me that he was going to shoot his load right in my face and I was going to like it.

And of course, I was going to like it.

I had him jerking off in counts - I told him to stroke his cock ten times, up and down, hard and fast, and then stop. Then I would talk to him some more. About how I was pinching my nipples, rubbing my clit on the edge of the desk I was standing in front of, and how I had to pee a little bit, so if I pushed down on my bladder, it made the pleasure of my swollen clit just that much deeper.

Then, I think, someone came in the bathroom, so he had to go back to his office. He called me three more times, all on the hour, and the fourth time, finally, everyone had gone home except for him. He turned his webcam on and pointed it right below the waist. Then he called me on Skype.

I told him exactly what I wanted him to do. He held out for almost fifteen minutes. When I turned the cam on my end on and he saw the state of my cunt, he had to stop for a minute because he almost lost it. Then I made him squeeze his balls with one hand, and jerk himself all the way off. He was making a lot of noise, and he came and came and came, multiple hot spurts running down his hand, making pools on his desk and on the floor.

***

I know I have been scarce around here - but I have been keeping busy. In a few weeks, I will have almost ten days off. I have enjoyed the fabulous trades, but I am trying to decide what comes next. I feel like I have only just started to explore.

I have had several people tell me to start a chat line or some other, similar kind of thing. But I am reluctant to do that. What I love about things as they are now is that I don't get bored. Unlike many of the women who, um, work on the phone or online, I get into it too, rather than just faking it - and this creates a completely different kind of experience. I don't see how you can do that when you are talking to more than a certain amount of people in a day.

For me, the conversations are like wide open territory - so many possible avenues to explore. I am just there to go wherever people want to go. I love this.

Anyway, as always, I am open to ideas. Maybe I can figure out a way to be able to spend some more time in this otherworld...

waves

Well, this is just how it is going to go - in waves. Which is somehow an appropriate metaphor ;)

Now you see me, now you don't. Don't worry, it's not you.

It's just the nature of the thing.

Don't forget me.

twenty minutes

Hey from the west coast... from a hotel room. My roommate just left today so I am all alone. Let me repeat that: I am all alone in a hotel room.

Last night, I spent four hours in a kind of spa-like place. Started with a steam room, on to the best massage of my life. Yes, even better than THAT massage. And then, steamed up and slicked down, I was submerged in a hot tub under the stars.

I am sorry to say that I did nothing even remotely sexual.

But while I was in the steam room - and I love it REALLY hot, so I was pouring sweat - I did some slow yoga stretches and then I just lie there for a minute, staring down the length of my body.

I have a sort of little girl body - very petite and very... efficient. Nothing really jiggles or floats in water. My stomach is completely flat, my ass is smooth and muscular, my legs are strong, and my hands are not the delicate kind. They are feminine, but they look like they get things done. My body still looks almost exactly the way it did when I was eighteen. I even weigh the same. It is, some days, like an odd time warp. I know that it will change. Especially if I ever have children. And I think it will be sad, somehow - I will miss the body I have had.

I keep my pubic hair trimmed and partially shaven. I ran my fingers over it, and then I sat up and spread my legs and took a closer look.

My clit is not the tiny, buried variety, though it is not enormous. But it is prominent, and I pulled the skin up a little so that it was exposed. The lips of my pussy are very full and a rich, pink color. I spread them open a bit so that I could see the smooth passageway leading deep inside me.

There are moments when I can really see the parallels between men and women's genitalia. I can see how the lips are the vestigial balls, and I can almost feel the length of what might have been a cock buried in my pelvis, with just the most sensitive tip peeking out from the folds.

I can almost feel what it would be like.

Maybe it was because I was being so clinical and reflective about it, but I didn't feel turned on at all. Just curious and sort of... nostalgic? Warm? You know, like, here is this vessel that I live in or that is me, that is carrying me through this life, bringing me so much pleasure, etc.

But today, in the middle of the conference I am in, while the presenter was in the middle of her powerpoint presentation, I suddenly had to excuse myself. I came back up to my room, stood in front of the mirror, stripped off my jeans and underwear, and made myself cum in about three minutes flat. Fast and furious.

I went over to my bag, pulled out a dildo I had brought along, went back to the mirror, and slowly slid it inside me. It is a little bit large for me, so it stretched my pussy lips all the way open as I slowly fucked myself with it, watching every move.

I just wanted to watch the whole thing - the wet dildo, my clit swelling, my nipples hard and pink, aching to be grabbed, pinched, twisted. I was moaning, grunting, bending down a bit, crouching so that I could shove the dildo deeper inside me.

But what made me cum was the thought of you shooting your load on me - all over my tits and neck and face. When I thought of that, I pulled the dildo all the way out, and then slammed it back in just as I came, hard, crying out, tasting your cum.

Then I washed my hands, slipped back into my jeans (left the underwear off), walked back downstairs and sat back down in my seat. Only twenty minutes had passed.

all of me

I read everything you write to me. Every word. And I think I am starting to see my way through this. I am still putting words to it, though, so I won't say anything yet.

You should know that I hate doing things halfway. I want the time to pay full attention to you, to be here at the exact moment when you need to talk to me. You know what I mean by that. I know that ache. You have no idea.

But, you should also know that I am getting on another plane (hmmm...), and will be gone for about a week. I will be checking email, but will have almost no time to respond. So don't be sad.

You see the problem: What is it going to take to cut into my life, peel away the fluttering busyness, and get my attention? This is not just what you might be wondering, it is at the heart of what I am wondering, too.

One thing is certain: When I do talk to you, you will have all of me in that moment.

the least i can ask

Damn. It is just one of those days. The sun is out, the birds are singing, and my clit is rock, I kid you not, ROCK hard.

I am going to reach down right now and confirm that...

Yes. Rock hard. Swollen, and each time I shift in my seat, which is a lot today, I can feel things sliding around down there.

I tried to work. I really did. I turned on the computer and tried to stay focused. But while I was thinking about something, my hand strayed to my nipples, tracing, pinching... and now, look where I am.

Here is the fantasy du jour: I want to come over, make a gin and tonic, sit down and watch porn with you. We can have a perfectly civil conversation while we do this - note the ridiculous plot, his beer belly, her botched tattoo. But when they really start going at it, you are not going to be able to control the hard on that is gathering momentum in your pants.

This, of course, is going to make me crazy. And I am really sorry, but I am not going to be able to be shy or hold back. I am going to have my hand down my jeans and my finger up my cunt within about ten seconds.

I'm going to keep my jeans partially on, but you will be able to see me fucking myself with my finger. Maybe you would even like to try... if I let you.

You'll be able to hear the on-screen couple moaning, balls slapping on asses, clits exposed. You will not be able to take it any more and will reach down and rub your cock through your pants. I will be able to see the outline of it. I will be circling my hard clit with my fingers so that you can see.

Finally, you will unzip and take your hard cock out. You will be breathing hard now, jerking it fast and hard for me. You might want me to stand in front of you while I fuck my pussy. You will want to hear the sound it makes.

Or maybe you will have me turn around and bend over so that you can see my ass while you stroke yourself. You will have a much better view of my dripping cunt this way.

At this point, you might even stand, too, so you can slap your dick on my ass a few times. You'd tell me to turn around and kneel, and I would, still fingering myself.

Now, with your cock inches from my face, I would open my mouth for you. You would be jacking off hard now, your shaft red, the head swollen and shiny. My clit would be ready to explode for you. I would be begging you to let me cum for you.

Finally, you would let yourself go completely and shoot all over my face, my neck, my tits. I would cum with you the whole way. Your cock would pump out two or three loads after that build up, and I would rub it all in.

That is what I want.

Of course, you know what I am doing while I am typing this. My clit LITERALLY aches, I want to cum so bad. I want you to watch me while I cum.

So, I am going to finish myself off now, and think of you watching me. I hope you are jacking off while you read this - or, at the very least, throbbing, aching.

That's the least I can ask.

park

Ok, then.

That just fell into my, well, not quite into my lap.

I am not even going to take a shower yet. I want to tell you about it while it is still fresh on my...

I got a call yesterday from the man who took my virginity. I lost it late - when I was almost twenty-five. I know. Shocking. But I can explain in two words: Mormon boyfriend.

At any rate, I loved that I waited so long (and actually, I didn't wait for anything - I was fist fucking women for most of my early twenties) because when I saw him walking across a soccer field one day and decided that I was going to fuck him, I was incredibly focused, knew exactly what turned me on, and I ask you, how many women can say that their first fuck was fabulous?

Yes. You can count them on one hand. Me, me, and me. For all three times I came.

Of course, he had the most astonishing cock. But I digress.

He called. Yesterday. He said he was in town, would I like to meet. I said that I knew what that was code for, so just to keep things simple, could we meet in the park. I know - as if this is somehow LESS hot? But, as I have mentioned before, I am not presently available for, um, penetration, so this seemed a safer bet.

So, moving things along here, we meet in the park. Actually, we meet at the entrance to the park - on the south side. It is, as you know if you are reading this today, a gorgeous day. Cherry blossoms, the whole thing. He and I used to have this game called the Garden of Forking Paths (two jillion points if you get the reference without Googling it). The game was this: Two people walking in a park are having a conversation. Each time they come to a fork in the path, they alternate choosing which way to go, but there is no break in the conversation or the stride and no reference to what is happening.

So, of course, without discussing it, we started to play the game, talking all the while, until we ended up on a rock near the pond where the paddle boats are. We sat and talked for a bit. At this point, the conversation had deteriorated to something only fit for, well, this blog. But I won't reproduce it except to say that he was a little agitated, unable to fathom why I would not go to his hotel room.

At one point, he said, fine, let's walk then, and as we stood, he spotted a couple, also along the water's edge and slightly hidden behind the rushes, making out. He pointed them out and I turned to look, and at that point, he brought his arm under mine and across my chest, and somewhat awkwardly, and very abruptly, pulled me back into him.

Do you think they would notice?, he said.

Notice what?

If we fucked right here.

But we are not going to fuck right here, I insisted.

Just then, the woman seemed to look over for a minute and see us.

Look right at her, he said.

I had been laughing, but I could see he was serious. I was not into it and asked him to let me go. I never expected that he woudn't.

Look, just do this for me, just look at her. He tightened his arm around me and at this point I could feel him doing something with his other hand.

You have got to be kidding me!, I said.

This, I have to say, is one of those things that really bumps up against my limitations. I love doing things in public, but this was REALLY public. Anyone could come around the corner and see, and, of course, there is this couple RIGHT THERE, although, thank god, they seem to have doubled their own efforts and did not seem to be looking over any more.

So I said something like, Seriously, I don't want to do this, let's go walk in the woods, I'm sure we can find a place to...

He reached up with his other hand and grabbed my hair, bringing my ear around to his lips: Do. Not. Move.

Hand back down, now I could feel him jerking off, quickly, urgently.

I just need a minute he said, just look at her. I want you to be looking at her.

His hand had found my breast and was squeezing my nipple with the same rhythm as what was going on near my ass. That was the moment I started to get a little turned on... I mean, I had been turned on before that, but this was when I admitted it to myself.

Shit! I am thinking, Shit! Hurry!

Ahhh. Fuck. He is saying, Look at her, think about fucking her while I watch you both. I want to see you lick her cunt. I want you to spread her pussy open and show it to me, and then lick her clit for me.

Now he is really pumping hard, pinching my nipple now, making grunting noises into my ear.

We are both standing on the rock, his cock pressed against my lower back, his hand moving quickly, I try to look back and he tells me not to. Just look like we are standing here looking at the veiw, he said, and I laughed a little.

Keep looking at her. I want her to see me cum all over your back. He is hunched over slightly now, jerking quickly, hard, harder, jerking his cock, precum starts to drip down into the waistband of my jeans. Uhmmm... I want to see you lick her tits, squeeze her fucking tits for me. I want to put my hands into both of your wet little pussies.

He stopped talking then, and started whispering to me. Now he said things that I really would have trouble typing here. And then he came, all over my back, quietly, biting deep into my shoulder, hot cum dripping down the crack of my ass.

And now I am here, not one hour later, typing for you. I can feel the dried cum on my back. I still haven't done anything to myself. As you might imagine, especially after telling you this story, I am beyond wet. I am sopping, sopping wet.

But I am not going to touch myself. Not. Quite. Yet.

one thing

I am still here.

I have just been working so much. Too much. This, you see, is part of my frustration.

Why can't I just meet you for a few hours at an adult film place near midtown, get a drink, and watch porn with you in a small, dark room until you are rock hard and begging me to let you take your cock out of your jeans and jack off for me? Then you would pay me some amount that felt completely worth it to you, and that would, upon repeated meetings, allow me not to be working so much, so I could spend that much more time making you cum again and again and again.

It all seems so simple when I say it that way.

Someone invited me to go to one of those swinger parties - and, I admit, it sounds fun - but I would be thinking the whole time: I can give sex away for free anytime. How does this free up my time?

How does this ridiculous waste of time forge a powerful and private exchange with a handful of people who come to me for one thing, so that they leave feeling drained, taken care of, and I am filled up and able to spend the rest of the day focusing on my work in the world, which is to read, to write, and to make things?

I need a patron. Are there still such things?

Feeling dejected.