Erotica: Forbidden – Part II

I’d say I’m sorry for all the girl-girl sex here on the blog lately, but really, I’m not. It seems it’s what’s always on my mind these days.

This is one of my latest WIP, so please excuse the rough edges.

I’m thinking this story is turning into the prelude of Watching, and perhaps the story may become something more.

You can find the first half of this story here.

…………………………….

When her lips left mine, Eve took my hand and led me to the bed. Before I had time to second guess what we were doing, her lips found my cheek and then my ear.

My hands were on her, moving fabric over flesh as I caressed her curves and touched her wherever I could.

I moved to take her mouth with mine and my fingers dug into her hips, pulling her against me.

Eve stepped back, and with her hands on my shoulders, pushed me to the bed as she sank to her knees in from of me, hands following eyes down my body, over my ribs, waist, hips and thighs until they turned at my knees and trailed up my inner thighs.

When her warm breath fell onto my skin, then flowed over my lips and clit, my eyes closed and my head fell back to the bed.

When her lips closed on to my clit, my breath caught in my throat and she placed a chaste kiss on the most intimate part of me. I reached towards her, my fingers fanning into her hair as her lips subsided, replaced by her tongue, flicking and licking across me.

My body started its peak and my hands tightened in her hair as she pulled my bud into her mouth and began sucking, slowly and rhythmically.

Within moments, I’m panting, my hips  thrusting into her mouth, increasing in speed with her sucking until I’m holding her against me, pulling her tighter against my pussy. As my orgasm peaked, I arched off the bed and Eve slipped two fingers between my now spasming lips and rubbed them hard against my g-spot.

For a brief moment, it’s too much, too intense and my hand leaves her head to interrupt her but she gripped it with her free hand and held it in place, never stopping her sucking or her fingers.

I need her to stop, it’s too much. My breathing’s out of control and my mind is spinning, pleasure so intense it hurts. I try to sit up and pull back, but Eve, still gripping onto my wrist, dropped our conjoined hands to my stomach, pinning me in place.

Out of control, my body withered and tears started forming in my eyes. Suddenly, her fingers became more forceful, her sucking harder. The moment her teeth scrapped across the exposed tip of my clit, my body let go and I exploded into her mouth and onto her hands.

The waves flow through my body and crest, then crest again, and I  feel the fluid splashing against her hands and face. But she doesn’t stop, doesn’t release me from the pleasurable torture of her lips.

I find myself lying listless on her bed, my breathing finally slowing and I can feel Eve’s mouth on my thighs, gentle kisses and warm breathes as her fingers move slowly in and out of my pussy and I realized she’s whispering “Shh…” against my skin.

It wasn’t until then that I realized I was crying, silent tears streaming down my cheeks, but my body was too tired, too satiated to wipe them away.

As Eve’s fingers continue to move, she kissed her way from my thighs up and over my mound, her teeth grazing across my hip bones, my nipples. When her lips touched the sensitive spot between my breasts, my hand moved to pull her mouth to mine.

As our lips touched, Eve finished her climb up my body, her fingers still moving, now with more force as her lips and tongue meshed with my own.

My hands ran down her back and I grabbed the hem of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head. My shirt, pooled at my neck, was next. Eve fell onto me, our flesh hot against one another, her fingers deep in my pussy, curved so that my body was moving with her, wanting more.

She dropped to her elbow, her hand wrapped in my hair, and started fucking me, her whole body between my legs, her hips forcing her fingers deeper, her palm pressed hard against my clit.

Her mouth was all over, on my lips, my neck, my shoulders. She overwhelmed me, and I was lost in her, in the things she was doing to me, the pleasure that was rolling over me.

Her lips were on my ear, voice soft and sweet. “You are so fucking beautiful,” she whispered.

Those words pushed me off the ledge I’d been balancing on and waves of upon waves of glorious pleasure washed over my mind and body. She didn’t relent and pushed me further, and further still, until I was nothing but a quaking mess beneath her.

Eventually, her pace slowed, and I floated caught in the moment of exquisiteness, my body a bundle of electric nerves, twitching as she placed kisses along my cheeks, moving towards my mouth.

When her lips met mine, joy and love washed through me, and my tongue moved to met hers in an intimate embrace.

Eve moved off my body, curling hers around me, and we lay there, naked in one another’s arms, basking in what was created between us. Our hands moved lazily across skin, touching and exploring, in no rush for our love making to end.

But as Eve moved to pull me closer, we both froze at the sound of the door opening.

“Eve, I wanted to let you know…” Sir’s voice trailed off when he saw on the bed. He was still a moment, and I watched as the look of shock on his face hardened into anger.

“Caitlyn, to your room,” he demanded, and I could hear the struggle to keep his voice restrained. “Eve, get the belt.”

To be continued…

Afternoon Delight

It’s been a fabulous few weeks in the McConnell household. Since it’s bitter cold outside, M’s not been working, and with me working as a full-time writer, hell, I barely leave the house.

And with our libidos going through the roof, there’s been so much fucking and edging, most of the time I’m walking around like a ticking time bomb, just waiting for the smallest touch so I can explode.

Today was no different, and since it started out with a few flirty texts with Lynn, I was horny by the time the school bus came. But with errands to run and a house to clean, M wasn’t going to let me have any release.

Yet, once we got home and put groceries away, and after a brief visit from my favorite girl, things changed after M got the mail. There were two packages in the post, one of which I wasn’t expecting for a few more days.

I opened up the bag and there was the little white and black French maid costume I ordered. With a matching garter, wrist cuffs, and headband, it was super cute and I wanted to put it on.

M, who’d been edging us both since 8 am, said he wanted to see me in it. So, I stripped off my clothes and donned the newest addition to my lingerie drawer.

I pranced around the kitchen, intentionally bending over the table, putting my ass and undies on display. He leaned back on the counter, unbuckled his belt, unzipped his jeans, and pulled out his now rock hard cock. As I danced across the kitchen, I watched as he stroked it, his eyes never straying from my body.

It wasn’t long before I arched over the kitchen sink, and felt him come up behind me, his lips on my neck as his hands moved down my sides to settle at my hips. As his lips moved from my collarbone to my ear, he pulled me back against him, ensuring I could feel the hard length of him on my ass.

His hands roamed my body, from where my too large breasts were spilling out over the top to where the short skirt fell right below the cheeks of my ass. His fingers started working their way under the skirt and into my panties, and I turned in his arms, my hand reaching for him.

When his fingers reached my lips, I was already wet, and I started stroking him, long and slow. I watched as a drop of pre-cum settled onto his tip. Bending at the waist, keeping my ass in the air, I took him in my mouth and licked him clean.

On my pussy, his fingers started working faster and harder, and soon I couldn’t keep him in my mouth, my body convulsing too much to stay still.

I stood and turned, and standing in front of him dropped to my knees to take him in my mouth. Both his hands moved to my hair, and fingered their way to my scalp, rubbing and moving me where he wanted. While I licked him and took him as far back in my throat as I could, his hands hardened and moved from massaging into a tight grip, forcing my head and mouth back and forth on his cock.

We fell into a rhythm, and soon drool was leaking from my lips and spilling across my chest as I worked not to gag too much on his length. As his pace increased, my body started responding, but before I could cum from sucking his cock, he pulled me off, and looking down at me, his hand in my hair and my mouth open and wet from his cock, he told me I was such a good girl.

With a slight tug on my hair, M pulled me so I standing and as I reached up to kiss his mouth, he grabbed me by the waist and put me on the edge of the counter. Without hesitation, he reached underneath me and pulled my panties down to my knees, before stepping up and slipping his cock into my now soaking cunt.

Before long, I was suspended off the counter, M’s hands on my hips, thrusting me back and forth against him, my ankles on his shoulders, my elbows holding me up on the counter. Biting my lip, I tried to keep quiet as an orgasm rolled through me, making me push against him, wanting him to fuck me harder. When I came, I could hear the sound of the liquid falling onto the kitchen floor.

Helping me down, we moved to the living room, where I knelt down leaning my body on the back of the couch, and pushing my ass out, in what I hoped look like an invitation to come fuck me.

Apparently it worked. Sliding up on the couch behind me, M guided his cock to my pussy, and as he slowly pushed himself inside me, he fisted his right hand around my ponytail and twisted, pulling my head back and my back arch.

As our pace increased, his other hand slipped to my face and I pulled his middle finger into my mouth, sucking it between my lips as he started fucking me harder and harder.

My body started to spasm and cum dripped from between our bodies, but he didn’t let up or slow his pace. Instead he fucked me right through that orgasm, and another. By the time the next one came, I was panting and thrusting against him, him with one hand in my hair and the other hooked in my mouth.

The moment I told him I was going to cum again, he thrust once, twice, three times hard and long, and as my body started to convulse, he pulled out of my pussy, his hand dropping to his cock and stroked it while I squirted all around. My orgasm triggered his and within two more strokes, hot cum was jetting out of his cock, across my back, my ass, my legs, and my pretty little French maid costume.

As we cleaned up our mess and I got redressed for the day, I began to think how much fun cleaning the house is now going to be.

Becoming More Comfortable 69ing

For years, I hated 69ing. Too young and too insecure about my body, I was uncomfortable being exposed and having my most private parts on display.

And then I met M.

The visual creature that he is, 69ing was (and still is) one of his favorite ways to pass the time. Oh, I’d comply, straddle myself across over his mouth, but I was always uncomfortable, still too shy to be able to relax with my pussy and ass only inches from his face.

And then came babies. Three of them. And 80 pounds of extra weight that lingered on my body for years too long. With all of that, 69ing again became a taboo act, with me too unhappy with myself to be able to let go and simply enjoy.

But slowly the weight drifted off and my body confidence started to return, along with the acceptance of the signs of aging and life that showed on my body.

And for the first time in my life, I enjoyed the mutual pleasure 69ing gave. I could finally relax and turn myself over to the give and take it created. But still, if I thought too much about it, my ass cheeks spread only inches from his face, my mind would again get in the way.

But not now. Never again. Now I fully understand M’s reassurance that the sight of my pussy and ass above him is arousing. That he enjoys the vision and it’s what makes it one of his favorite things.

Recently, I’ve been blessed with the opportunity to 69 with another woman. And with me on my back, her pussy on my lips, I can verify ladies, the image is truly intoxicatingly beautiful. Not only does the position give you wonderful access to all the lady parts, but the vision of pussy and ass right there, within tongue’s reach, it’s enough that I really could spend all night right there.

As these thoughts passed through my mind the other day, I decided I should compile a list of ways for women to feel more comfortable when 69ing. After all, if you’re not comfortable, you’re not going to enjoy yourself. And if you’re not enjoying yourself, what the fuck’s the point?

So without further ado, here’s 10 ways to help you relax and enjoy the fine art of 69ing.

  1. Be Clean. One of the main concerns women often have with 69ing, and oral sex in general, is that they feel their vaginas are unclean. Add in a little bit of spread open ass cheeks, and many women are running to the nearest bathroom with wet wipes. Ladies, relax. If you’d like to 69 and you’re concerned that your nether regions aren’t as clean as the rest of you (chances are they’re cleaner, but that’s a different post), simply take a shower before heading to bed. Wash yourself, twice if you must, then put the thought behind you. Your ass and pussy are clean and ready to be devoured.
  2. Shave Your Lips. Whether you’ve got a baldy, a landing strip, or a jungle bush, shaving your lips can do wonders for your partner’s view during a 69. Not only does it smooth things out for him – or her – to take your lips into his mouth or between his teeth, but it opens your whole vulva and creates a heavenly vision. If you really get into it and like to ride against his face, shaving can help prevent both pube floss and bush rug burn.
  3. Be On Top. Although there’s mixed thoughts on this, I believe if you’re uncomfortable while 69ing, it’s best to be on top. When the female’s on the bottom, she has little control as to the depth and speed of the cock in her mouth. Plus when boys start sweating, it can drip down their butt cheeks, over their balls, and onto your face. I know it’s not a pretty sight, but after you 69 enough times in the heat of July, you learn some of these things. By staying on top, you get to decide where and how deep his cock goes, while he gets to see you spread wide and glorious.  
  4. Stay On Your Knees. Although it’s tempting, and perfectly okay, to grind down on his face when he’s licking your pussy during 69ing, if you’re hesitant about the position and slightly uncomfortable doing it, staying on your knees can help. You can keep yourself above him if you’re afraid of suffocating him (you won’t though, even if your grind away, I promise) or too uneasy to let him really get up in there. My guess is once it starts and you get in to it, he’ll be wrapping his arms around your hips and pulling you down closer to him. But for now, if you’d feel better, it’s fine to just try and stay on your knees.
  5. Do It by Candlelight. As I’ve mentioned, one of the reasons women don’t like 69ing is because they feel exposed. Lower that feeling by turning off the lights and lighting some candles instead. Candlelight makes skin look smooth and soft, and while it allows you to see, it masks flaws and imperfections. With candles burning instead of bright florescent lights, you know he won’t be able to see the few hairs you missed or the little bump on your behind (not that he’d care anyway) and can therefore stop worrying about it and enjoy what his tongue’s doing to your clit instead.
  6. Have a Glass of Wine. Or 3. While alcohol and sex sometimes do not mix (although they always mix well in the McConnell household), having a glass or two of wine can help you relax and feel more at ease before heading into the bedroom. The wine settles your nerves and lowers your inhibitions, perhaps allowing you to forget about why you don’t like 69ing and instead find a whole new bunch of reasons why you love it.
  7. Remember It’s Give and Take. The best part of 69ing, for me anyways, is the give and take of mutual pleasure. It’s okay if you become overwhelmed with pleasure and your mouth drifts from his cock. If you can keep a hand on it, stroking hum as you cum, that’s great, but if you can’t, it’s not a big deal either. Just remember to return the favor once you’ve calmed down and don’t get shitty if his lips fall from yours as he cums down your throat.
  8. Have Him Start First. If you’re anxious, or if it takes you longer than him to get warmed up, have him go down on you before you start 69ing. That way when it’s time for you to roll up on top, you’re already randy and ready to go. This also means you’ll be more into the position, more into getting pleasure, and more into licking his cock. It’s a win-win situation.
  9. Use Your Hands. Really ladies, if you aren’t already using your hands when you’re going down on your guy, you, and he, are missing out. Learn how to lengthen the stroke of your mouth with your hand and sucking his dick suddenly gets much, much better. Using your hands is important, especially in 69ing. That way when you’re so overcome with cumming and you can’t breathe with him in your  mouth, you can still pleasure him with your hands. And vice verse.
  10. Have Fun. Remember what it’s all about. It’s about feeling good and having fun. If 69ing stresses you out so much you need a Xanax, well then don’t worry about it. But if you’re just a little hesitant and unsure, then find a good looking partner and head to the bedroom. Relax, have fun, and lick some hard cock. What more could you ask for?

Although 69ing isn’t for everyone, I hope these ten hints and tips help you relax and give the position a chance. You never know, it may just become one of your favorite things too.

What about you? Are you like me and love 69ing? Or do you think the position is completely over rated?

Dear Lynn: When Words Fail Me

It’s both frustrating and odd, these rare moments when words fail me. It seems as though the words, they’re swimming, crawling to get out, swarming in my mind, wanting nothing more than to make their way out into the world and become words on paper, but they fail to do so.

So instead of writing, I’m just going to talk to you, like you’re here in front of me, and say all the things I want to write, if only my words would let me.

I’m sorry if that seems weird.

Can I tell you how damn sexy you are? How lucky I am, we are, to have a friend like you?

It’s been so fun, this thing we’re doing. And hot. So fucking hot. Memories pop up unexpectedly, little gifts from the recesses of my mind, and I find myself smiling stupidly, thinking about you. About us.

And M, he knows. He’ll see me, staring off into space, lost in thought and ask, with a smile, what I’m thinking about.

What am I thinking about? Christ. So many different things.

Things like the heat surrounding my fingers when they’re inside you. It’s so warm and it feels so good. And when you start bucking against me, grinding and riding it out, I just want more and want to give you more. I want to go deeper inside you, fill you fuller, stretch you tighter.

The taste of you in my mouth. Fuck. You probably don’t know this, but there were multiple times, so many times, when I was between your legs, licking your delicious pussy, and the feel of you in my mouth, your clit between my lips, the sight of you withering on the bed, thrashing… Damn, girl, it made me cum again and again. I literally had a puddle beneath me because going down on you made me squirt so many times.

And 69ing with you, it’s given me a whole new perspective into the joys of a woman’s anatomy. The sight of you, spread open above me, wet and waiting. It was seriously one of the most erotic sights I’ve ever had the pleasure of witnessing.

And although I didn’t mention anything, I was worried. I wasn’t sure I was really ready. I was afraid it would bother me, you and him, and that I wouldn’t truly be able to handle seeing him inside of you.

But I was wrong.

It’s hard to explain, but it was fucking amazing. I loved watching, tasting you between his strokes, you open and wanting. I loved guiding his cock to your pussy and watching you take him in. I’d reach down and feel where you two met, feel your wetness on his cock, feel him sliding into you, feel the tightness of your lips where you stretched around his girth.

I didn’t want it to end.

And it may sound dirty, but I have to tell you, it turns me on to lay on the sheets, lay where we fucked, where we came. Lay on the wet spot you created and remember. Remember what you felt like, on my body, on my hands, on my mouth. Remember how good your pussy tastes and how you sound when you cum. Remember what you look like, above me, below me, fucking me, fucking him.

I lay there and remember and all I want to do is touch myself and think of the dirty, dirty things I want to do to you.

Want Valentine’s Day All Year? Check Out Rori’s 365 Valentine

Many of you know Rori from Between My Sheets – go check her out if not- and she’s started this brand new program I wanted to tell you about.

365 Valentine.

I’m jealous, because it’s such a great idea, I wish I came up with it!

But seriously, if you feel like you’re struggling with keeping the romance alive, this is a great, and inexpensive, route to take.

Here’s how it works:

  • Read about and sign up for Rori’s 365 Valentine program.
  • Due it before March 1st to get the great introductory rate of $37. After March 1st, the price more than doubles.
  • Simply decide which of the three options is best for you and your love.
  • And viola! You’ll start receiving daily emails, giving you advice and easy to follow, realistic tips on how to start growing the love and intimacy in your relationship.

And if you do it now, you’ll get 10 bonuses, including ebooks on special dates and how to initiate some kinky fuckery into your relationship.

In case you missed it earlier, you can check it out here.

Go for it. And if you like, come back here and tell me about it!

*hugsandkisses*

~caitlyn

The Things I’d Do To You

I want to touch you everywhere. I want to run my hands over every inch of your skin, from the softness of your breasts to the ticklish spot behind your knee.

I want to taste your lips and have my mouth filled with the flavor of you.

I want my fingers to roam across your flesh, exploring, learning, remembering. Lips, teeth, and tongue follow from collar bone to hip, gentle caresses forming into more as intensity rises and we lose ourselves in each other.

I want to make you want. Make you ache. I want you to beg and plead. I want your body so sensitive that my fingertips across your ribs feel like heaven and my kisses on your inner thigh make you drift.

I want to fill you with hands, mouth, and pleasure until you’re quaking beneath me, gasping from both too much and not enough.

I want to feel your body’s spasms, the peaks and crests of pleasure as it rolls through you, making you cum again and again.

I want to exhaust you. Push you to where you can’t take anymore but refuse to stop. I want to feel the aftershocks expelled from your body, silent reminders of exquisite moments.

I want my name on your lips, soft and loud, as we move together, synced in fucking. I want the sounds of our sex imprinted on my mind, your moans, sighs, and echoes of pleasure.

I want to be flooded by you. The feel of your skin against mine, the sight of your satisfaction, the taste of you in my mouth, and the smell of you on my hands and sheets.

I want to make you feel. I want to make you cum. Make you forget everything but this moment in time.

I want you.

Five Sentence Fiction: Villainous

Inspired by Lillie McFerrin and her Five Sentence Fiction. This week’s theme: Villainous.

Lillie McFerrin Writes

She knew it was a bad idea; hell, it was a horrible idea.

Yet when he looked at her, when he touched her, she didn’t care; he overwhelmed her senses and clouded her mind with passion and lust.

He pulled her close, his hands slipping under her shirt and pushed it up, over her waist, her breasts, her shoulders.

As she leaned back against the wall and he kissed a path down her body, she experienced a moment of panic, fearing the worst, afraid he may be the villainous man everyone claimed him to be.

But as he unbuttoned her jeans and his mouth moved lower, her hands fisted into his hair and all thoughts of good and bad left her as pleasure ascended.

When He’s Big

When he’s big,

I am small.

Underneath him,

His weight on my back,

He makes me, not weak,

But fragile, precious,

To be cared for.

Taken.

Abused.

Wrapped around me,

His flesh hot against mine,

I ache for him

His touch.

Hard.

Demanding attention,

It breaks me into submission.

As he powers over me

I shrink beneath him.

Becoming smaller.

Tinier.

Until I am less mine,

And more his.

And he grows.

Bigger.

And me smaller.

Until I am nothing,

but His.

14 Reasons Sex With Women in Their 30s Rocks

Lets face it, sex rocks. I imagine you feel the same too, or you probably wouldn’t be here reading this.

But lately I’ve been thinking, us girls in our thirties, we’re a bunch of fun. We’re finally over our adolescent expectation of fairy tales and knights in shining armor. We fully understand that you can’t read our mind and know that you don’t expect us to be perfect. We’re well enough into our careers and our life that we know how to take care of ourselves and can stand on our own two feet.

And we’ve finally learned how to let go and enjoy sex.

Inspired by being one, I compiled a list of reasons why sex with girls in their thirties rocks.

1. We love sex.

Science tells us one of our great sexual peaks occurs in our early thirties. If nurtured and cared for, this peak just keeps on going and many women report it occurs multiple times over the next few decades. Not only are our hormones driving us, but we’ve come to enjoy sex for sex. The over anxious teen and the self-conscious twenty-two year old are gone. What’s left is a woman who knows that sex feels good and loves nothing more than getting down in the sheets.

2. We know our bodies.

By now, we’ve learned about our bodies and what things feel good and what things don’t. Some of us may not have touched ourselves in high school, but by the time that we’re in our thirties, most women have started to masturbate. Whether alone or with a partner, we’ve learned what we like and how our bodies respond. We’ve learned how to make ourselves cum, which makes it so much easier for you to make us cum.

3. We aren’t afraid to show you.

The majority of women masturbate (according to Sexuality and U, over 62 percent of women between 30 and 39 admit to having masturbated in the last year). We’ve learned how to get ourselves off and by this stage in the game, most of us are pretty good at it. If you’re open to a little instruction, and the thought of watching a woman touch herself turns you on, then simply ask. We’ll show you how we like it.

4. We’re at terms with our bodies.

Shortly into our thirties, women start to come to terms with our bodies. That doesn’t mean we don’t try to be healthy or look good, but we’ve emotionally dealt with scars, stretch marks, and widening hips. We know they’re there and we’re (finally) all right with it. We no longer worry so much about hiding our flaws from you that we can’t relax and enjoy a good fuck.

5. We’re willing to experiment.

Raised in era more tolerant than that of our parents, many of us have lived a more sexually adventurous life than those generations before us. And now that we’re in our thirties, we’re willing to take chances and try something new, whether that means anal sex or playing around with a female friend. I can’t speak for all my peeps, as long as it’s safe, sane, and consensual, if it’s suggested, there’s not a whole lot I won’t try at least once.

6. We’re a little dirty.

Come on girls, we all know you’re a little dirty. We all are, and one of the things many of us have come to understand is that we don’t have be ashamed of it anymore. See, men like it when a girl can be sweet and charming and still be a little kinky in bed. If you like it when he pulls your hair or smacks your ass, don’t worry about it; men like it that way. Whether we want to admit it our not, most of us have read 50 Shades, watched quite a bit of porn, and we like it when things get a little dirty.

7. We’re okay with different types of relationships.

Yes, some of us may be looking for love, but that doesn’t mean that’s what we want out of every relationship. Sometimes we’re okay with friends with benefits and fuck buddies. At this point in our lives we understand not every relationship is destined for eternity and many of us aren’t looking for that anyway. Sometimes we just want fun. Sometimes we want casual. Sometimes we just want to fuck until we can’t see straight.

8. We can take care of ourselves.

We know how to take care of ourselves and aren’t needy. Yes, we may like it if you hold open the door, but we know how to mow the lawn, change a tire, and shovel the driveway and we don’t need you with us to go buy a car. If you’re looking for a girl who’s going to call you every time she breaks a nail, don’t look in our cohort. Us girls in our thirties, we’ve been on our own long enough that we know how to take care of ourselves and do a pretty damn good job of it.

9. We’re balanced.

When we were in our twenties, life was sometimes out of control, one aspect or another out of balance than the rest. But now that we’re in our thirties, we’ve balanced out. We have decent relationships with our family, we have friends, co-workers, hobbies, a career. We’ve got a life that we love and we’re not willing to suddenly drop everything because you’re a good lay. We’re busy, and although we have time for fun, we don’t have time to spend all day worrying about a man.

10. We’re sex positive.

We’re sex positive. Sex, for women in their thirties, isn’t something we shy away from in discussions. We’re not afraid to talk about it and be open to different opinions and perspectives. Most of us have a range of friends, including gay guys and lesbians. We may know couples that are in open relationships or swing with other couples. We know, we understand, and we don’t judge.

11. We’re multi-orgasmic.

So I’m one of those lucky girls who have been multi-orgasmic for a very long time. But I know many women aren’t like that. But now that my friends and I are more mid-thirties than early-thirties, the quality and quantity of orgasms seems to be improving. I’ve had friends just randomly tell me how many times they came last night , or that they just had their first squirting orgasm. In our thirties, we’re cumming, and we’re doing it a lot.

12. We’re done playing games.

Although many of us would like to deny it, we’ve all played games with men before. It may not be something we’re proud of, but by the time we’re in our thirties, we’re over it. We’ve realized playing head games is for kids and crazy people, and we’ve stopped doing it. We’re real. We say what we think and we don’t act a certain way because we think you’ll like us better. If you don’t like us how we are, then move on. We don’t have time for it.

13. We can control our crazy.

We’re all a little crazy, us women, no matter what our age. Don’t say you’re not girls, because we all are. But by the time women hit their thirties, we’ve learned a lot about our craziness and have become quite skilled at controlling it, at least most of the time. That means less drama and less bat shit crazy to deal with. You’re welcome boys.

14. We don’t fake it.

We’ve all faked it at one point or another and many of us  have done it a lot. But by now, we’re over it. If we don’t cum, we don’t cum. Sometimes the dice fall that way. If it’s something you’re doing wrong, we’ll either show you how to do it or do it ourselves. Sometimes the orgasms just aren’t there to get. You should be man enough to know it’s not your fault and we don’t feel like you’re less of a lover because of it. Please don’t think that about us either. But regardless, we’re not faking it. You’ll have to deal with it.

What do you think?

So what do you think about sex with women in their thirties? Does it rock? Tell me why in the comments.

DISCLAIMER: Okay, so I know there’s a lot of generalizations and what not, and I’m not saying these things are exclusive of women in their thirties. Their not.

Masturbation Monday: Edging

Inspired by Kayla Lord‘s and her meme, Masturbation Monday.

MM BadgeGo on over and get all your masturbation material for the week!

Masturbation-Monday-Week-22

He’d been edging me for days, but it felt like weeks, my body tight with unreleased sexual tension.

To make matters worse, he continued to call me every evening and whisper soft, passionate words, breathing heavy into the phone, sending chills across my skin.

Each morning the texts would start, detailing the things he wants to do to me, reminding me of the dirty things we’d done in the past.

I’ve had to change my panties three times a day for the last three days, and I can’t wear jeans because I find myself moving against them in a way that feels way too good.

He was supposed to be in town tonight. That was the idea when the edging started, the light at the end of my tunnel. Tonight he would be here. He’d take me out of my misery and make the suffering of the last days so very well worth it.

But plans change. Snow storms and cancelled flights leave me alone in my bed, aching and throbbing and wanting nothing more than to touch myself, but knowing even the brush of my hand will throw me over the edge.

So here I am, naked on cool sheets, withering and nearly in tears, not knowing what to do, but unable to focus on anything other than my aching clit and wet lips.

My phone rings and I groan when I see his picture. I dread answering it, but must and so I prepare for more torture at his words.

“Hi Sir.”

“Baby, I’m so sorry tonight fell through. As soon as the storm breaks, I’ll be on the first flight to you.”

“I know.” I pause. “I just wish you were here. I’m so… tense.”

I can hear the smile on his face, “You’ve been such a good girl this week, abstaining for me. Let’s end it. Being away from you is enough, you don’t have to wait for me any longer. You can cum, just make sure you tell me about it later. That way I can think of you when I stroke my cock.”

Tears spring from my eyes, knowing release is on its way. “Thank you, Sir. Thank you so much.”

“I’ve gotta go, babe. Enjoy.”

I sit the phone down beside me and take a deep breath, nearly afraid to touch myself now that I can.

I close my eyes and my thoughts drift to the last time we were together as my fingers drift down my stomach.

We’d been out, then had dinner, saw a movie. As we walked into my apartment, his lips found my ear and he practically growled, “Down to your panties and nothing else.” He walked into the kitchen and started mixing drinks.

When he returned, I was naked except for sheer, white panties. I kept my eyes down, but felt his presence as he moved closer. 

He wrapped a silk scarf around my eyes while I craved to feel his skin against mine.

My fingers graze over my pussy as my body responds to the memories, and my hips arch into them, wanting more.

My other hand moves to my breasts, fingernails scrapping against my hard nipple, and I bite my bottom lip to keep myself quiet.

I remember knowing he was walking around me, but not being certain where he was, just that he was close. As he paced, I swear I could feel his breath on me, at the back of my neck, my collar bone, my hip bone, on my breast, and it was making my body want to  move towards him, wherever he was.

My fingers slowly swirl over my clit, the most gentlest of touches and I feel my orgasm start to build.

I knew he stopped, but I didn’t know where he was, only that he was close, until I felt him step closer and his warm chest press against my back. His teeth grazed the skin of my neck and my head fell back against him as my body rocked. 

Without a word, his fingers fished their way into the sides of my panties, and with no warning, rubbed down across my clit, and pushed their way into my pussy.

I plunge two fingers deep between my lips, and instantly my body starts to peak. My muscles spasm and I buck against the palm of my hand, grinding my clit against it as the orgasm builds.

My other hand is rough on my nipples, pulling and twisting until the noises coming from my mouth are filled with both pleasure and pain.

His thick fingers abused my cunt, and he used them as leverage to hold my body against him as he finger fucked me until I couldn’t stand, until my panties were dripping wet, until I was nothing but a sobbing mess in his arms. 

My orgasm hits hard, and I imagine it’s his hands on me. I can almost smell him there with me as my muscles start to squeeze and I fall, swimming in bliss as my hands still move, thrusting against my g-spot, keeping me cumming as the waves subside.

As my orgasm quiets and my fingers slow, my body relaxes, for the first time in days. My clit is still swollen, still so sensitive that when I touch it, my body jolts. My hands move, slow and soft, as I drift off to sleep, wishing I wasn’t alone, but so very glad to be satiated.