9th July

Light mist this morning. It clings to the eaves of neighbouring houses. Fingers of mist reach over the moor, lying heavy in the many dips and depressions, and along the curving route of the river. A close, muggy night –

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In her eyes is the colour of the sea – but also its storms when she becomes emotional. Sweet Carnella, with her vampire kisses and razor-sharp fingernails. She is always so damn randy. Once she said she wished she could find a surgeon who’d remove a couple of her ribs – so she could eat her own pussy out!

She’d been drinking at the time. So perhaps it was a joke? Her’s was and is still a wicked sense of humour, like the time she left a large bar of milk chocolate on Ruth’s V-area.

That night Ruth was staying round Carnella’s following a party. She fell asleep, half-undressed on her bed, and Carnella slightly intoxicated placed the bar of chocolate inside Ruth’s knickers. Overnight it melted, of course. Come morning poor Ruth had chocolate pubes and pussy lips…She wasn’t amused, I recall –

balls

I had this girl once Jessica who was bit hard. She liked to workout at the gym and fancied herself as Buffy the vampire slayer in her spare time. Once in The Apollo this guy came over and took an empty chair from our table without asking if it was free, which it wasn’t.

Anyway, Jess launches herself from her seat and grabs the fast departing chair. ‘’Scuse me,’ she says. ‘This is taken.’

‘Really? It’s first come first served here, luv,’ he says. ‘Shouldn’t you at least say please, if you want something?’

‘Yeah, your right.’ She kicked him straight in the balls. He didn’t see it coming; had no idea. Down he went like a sack of potatoes. ‘Please,’ she said, and took back the chair.

Anyhow Jess don’t take shit off anyone. She likes to be in control. One night when we’d both had more than a few drinks, she challenged me to a game of cards.

‘What game are we playing?’ I asked.

‘We’ll play nut-cracker poker, yeah.’

I’d never heard of it before and was apprehensive. ‘What are the rules?’ I asked.

The rules she explained to me went something like this: each card represented a punch, squeeze, knee, or kick to the balls; the number of the card was the number of blows to be struck, or the number of seconds each squeeze would last. The Joker represented a sixty second handjob from her as a relief from all the rough treatment.

‘Hang on a sec,’ said I. ‘You’ve got no balls?’

‘I’m the banker,’ she said. ‘I take five cards at a time, see. And then I do what the cards tell me – to you. So we have here the eight of spades, ten of hearts, three of diamonds which means I’m going to give you eight kicks in the balls, a hard ten second squeeze and three punches. But we also have the King of diamonds, which counts as twenty, so you get an additional twenty second squeeze. See, it’s all about you…’

‘I’m not playing?’ I said.

‘But you’ve got a Joker there, too. That’s sixty seconds of me wanking you. You don’t want?’

‘Yes, I want. But it’s the kicks and punches…’

‘You’ve got to take the rough with the smooth.’ She shrugged. ‘If it’s hurting too much you can wimp out. We’ll have a safe word, yeah. Shout out ‘Sissy’ and I’ll stop.’

‘What’s the point of the game?’

‘To see if you’re man enough.’

‘When’s the game over?’

‘When you wimp out…Or when you cum. But if you wimp it, you have to eat me out as a forfeit.’

So, to cut a long story short, I ended up on the sofa in the nude. She dealt the cards and that first hand included three club cards: the four, six and ten.

‘Stand with your legs apart,’ she said. I did. She drove her knee into my balls with so much force my legs buckled. I tried to straighten but as I did so she powered that knee back into her gently swaying target. I hit the floor. ‘There’s a nine of hearts in the hand,’ she said. ‘That’s a nine second squeeze. Shall I do that before the rest of your kicks?’

I slowly rose from my knees. ‘I don’t think I like this game,’ I said, but she already had a firm hold of my balls. The pain was unbelievable, oscillating up from my balls to my brain, exploding behind my eyes in bright red neon. It took a few seconds before I screamed ‘Sissy’ and she released me, laughing.

‘Well, that didn’t last long, did it?’ she said. ‘Better get back on your knees.’ She sat back on the sofa and spread her legs wide. ‘You’ve got a lot of licking to do. About an hour’s worth, I’d say. bon appétit, my little wimp…’

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smoke

Diary 28th March

Sore this morning. Too much rough handling yesterday. I came five times last night, and I’m hard again now just thinking about you…Such a fine madness.

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A man and a woman started making love in the middle of a dark forest. After about 15 minutes, the man gets up and says, “Fuck, I wish I had a flashlight!”. The woman says, “Me too, you’ve been eating grass for the past ten minutes!”

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Question: How do you get a nun pregnant?

Answer: Dress her up as a choir boy.

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Question: What does it mean when the man in your bed is gasping for breath and calling your name?

Answer: You didn’t hold the pillow down long enough.

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Sex is good
Sex is fine
Doggy Style and 69
Just for fun
Or getting paid
Everyone likes getting laid.

 

 

Yet another Mind enriching post from:
Peedeel’s Blog
of
smut, literature,
voodoo, hoodoo &
so much more!

Bella’s Secret Garden

November 21, 2015

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One of my favorite things about staying in a hotel is the maid service. I can’t tell you how luxurious it is to know that I won’t have to pick up after myself, won’t be required to fold the towels and place them on the rack when I’m through. My girlfriend, however, cannot get the hang of hotel life. She actually cleans our room before the maid arrives.

“I don’t want her to think we’re slobs,” she says.

“That’s her job,” I tell her.

“To think we’re slobs?” (An intentional misread. I want to smack her for it.)

“To clean up,” I say through clenched teeth.

Amber shrugs, then makes the bed. When she’s finished, she writes a note to the maid, places it with a five dollar bill on the dresser, and gets ready to go. I watch her but don’t say anything. There’s no point.

When we return from sightseeing, our maid has left us a note of her own. It says, “Thank you very much for the tip. You don’t need to make the bed since I change the sheets every day.” She’s signed it Bella. I show the note to Amber who announces in her haughtiest tone that she doesn’t care. She’ll make the bed anyway.

The next day, it’s raining and we stay in. Part of our vacation is just relaxing, which means we don’t have to sightsee each and every day. Part of my vacation, that is. Amber takes her camera, in the rain, and leaves. I snooze until the maid knocks on the door, then I stumble to the latch and open it. In the hallway, stands Bella. She’s a pert and perfectly adorable blonde with short curly hair and clear, blue eyes. She takes one look at me and says, “You’re not the one making the bed each day, are you?”

I shake my head and invite her in. Something in my look must let her know what I want, and she obliges. She’s easy in my arms, a sweet 115 pounder with lithe, athletic body. I kiss her mouth, then her freckled cheeks, then nibble on her earlobes. I move her with me into the bathroom and we take a shower together, getting warm and wet and soapy. Laughing as we dry each other off.

We leave the towels in a soggy heap on the floor and make it halfway to the bed before I grab her and throw her down on the plush, crimson carpeting that Amber has picked lint off on her hands and knees. I climb on top of Bella in a still-damp sixty-nine. She knows how to use her tongue, probes me expertly with it while stroking my ass and lower back, rubbing in small circles, dragging her nails against my skin.

I follow her lead, running my short nails the length of her inner thighs while keeping my mouth busy on her cunt. I like the way she tastes, clean from the shower, of course, but musky beneath it. Earthy and real and delicious to my taste buds. Her fragrance is rich and heady and entirely unlike the antiseptic flavor of Amber’s well-douched vagina. Amber doesn’t really like it when we 69. She can eat me for hours, but she doesn’t like me to go down on her.

I lap now at Bella with no thought of what she’s doing to my own cunt. I am lost within the walls of her pussy, drinking each drop of her nectar. Finally, I pull away from her, lying flat on the floor between her legs. and concentrate totally on giving her pleasure. She wraps her thighs around me and lets me work, whispering what she wants, how she likes it.

“Harder,” when she needs that, “faster, ohhh, please, faster,” and I make those spiraling little circles as quickly as I can until she presses her hips forward and drenches my lips with the juices of her climax. The taste is pure sweetness.

By the time Amber arrives, Bella and I are on our third beer. Amber doesn’t know what to make of the scene, so I tell her. “You’re doing Bella’s job. Cleaning. Folding. Running around. I invited her to do yours… kick back, relax, make love.”

Amber leaves with her very neatly folded suitcase. Bella and I have another beer, then climb beneath the tightly, tucked sheets.

Antonia Paris

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everyhomeshouldhave this

Pussy….

May 13, 2015

pussy

What are you reading?

August 25, 2014

pussyeating