Posts filed under ‘food’

Sex as the result of intimacy

We had our first fight this week. It was hard. We survived.

“I’m afraid you’re going to write me off as damaged goods,” I said, my voice tiny.

“I don’t think you’re damaged goods,” he said. “Not any more than anyone else I know.”

He cared enough to tell me he was mad. I cared enough — I was brave enough — to explain the less-than-rational thinking behind my freakout.

On Saturday night we went to Harvard Square to see Neal Stephenson read from his new book, and I got to introduce him to one of my good friends.

Afterward we took the bus back to my place. My place went ‘splodey this week. He sat there on the edge of the bed while I changed the sheets. “How do you feel?” he asked.

“A little ashamed,” I replied. When my head’s not right, my house gets dirty.

“I don’t think you have any reason to be ashamed.”

“Well thank you for saying that. I’m sure I’ll stop feeling ashamed any minute now.”

I couldn’t say it to him, but the shame is mine. Mine mine mine. It rises up from its little pool underground and all I can do is pick up the stuff I don’t want to get waterlogged until it subsides. And change my socks afterward.

Once the sheets were changed, he sat down to take off his shoes. I was suddenly hot, so I took off all my clothes but my panties — the ones with the little ruffles, which I’d put on for him, because I know he likes them.

We’re not ripping each other’s clothes off anymore, and that’s okay. We can be naked together and not sexual.

And there was still the separation between us, the fallout from the week’s mishegas.

We drifted into sleep, and in the morning I brought us coffee and toast on a tray. We read books next to one another. Whenever I moved to get out of the bed, he’d loop his leg around mine. “Come back,” he’d say, and it warmed my heart to hear it.

Later, as I lay on my side, he rolled over to spoon me. I felt the muscular hairiness of his legs against my own smooth, soft ones. His arm draped over mine and made me safe. His chest, strong, his belly, soft. And his cock began to swell against the small of my back.

September 21, 2008 at 10:09 pm Leave a comment

First date, first kiss with Bran

It was back when it was still cold out. We met in Central Square and chatted a bit in a coffeehouse before dinner. His first impression of me was that I was angry, but really I was just thrown off by the Scally cap he was wearing. While we sat and talked over my cooling pot of tea, I remember an attraction blooming in spite of myself. It was something about the set of his neck.

I was still dressed for work in fairly dour clothes, a very utilitarian pair of pants and a long black cardigan. Over dinner, I remember his enthusiasm for the food, the way each of us was careful and generous with each other, gesturing to the other to have more. It was an Ethiopian restaurant, which means that you eat from the same plate with your hands. The plate itself is a sort of spongy bread that you eat as well. It’s a very intimate meal to share.

It was the set of his neck, that moment in the coffee shop, that really sealed the deal. But his conversation over dinner was pleasant and that helped as well. I invited him home to meet my cats. Heh. On the way back to my car, we linked arms, and he shivered in the cold and mentioned that he was tired, and I said, “if you’re really tired, you can go home now.”

“No,” he replied. “I want to see… what’s up.”

When we got home, I offered him a drink of water. I was so nervous standing there in the kitchen, trying to make conversation, that I dropped one of my good, stemmed water glasses. In my fumble to try to catch it, I dashed it against the sink. It shattered and left glass everywhere.

We sat on the couch and I put my feet up in his lap. But he wasn’t interested in my feet.

“You have an amazing ass,” he said.

“Yeah?” I said, flattered. And shifted so that I was sitting with my back to him, against his open legs. He put his arms around me, and our hips undulated. I turned to kiss him. Held him down, hovered with my lips close to his, savoring the moment.

I slid my hand under his sweater, his shirt, his undershirt, and pinched his right nipple, hard. He gasped. That harsh intake of breath, I’ve come to love it over the intervening months.

I kissed him then.

May 14, 2008 at 2:07 am 1 comment

Backwards dialogue (and new means to orgasm)

-Thank you for being so kind to me.
-Thank you for letting me.

***

-You must know how sexy you look right now.
-No, I really don’t. But I feel sexy.

***

-I have a garter belt somewhere, too.
-I’m kind of digging this look right now.
-What, the knee socks? Look, they go up to my thighs.

***

-Oh, yes, rub your chin on my back. I love the way your stubble feels on my skin.

***

-Why are you getting me all excited just when you’re about to leave? This is an evil plot to get me to drive you to the T, isn’t it?
-I’m just enjoying myself.

***

-You’re fun to nap with, too.

***

-When I was spanking you and you started to squirt, that was so hot.
-I’ve never come that way before.

***

-Oh, god, please.
-Please what?
-Please…

***

-Have you been a good boy?
-I haven’t come for a week.
-I’ve been very naughty. I came in the shower the other day, so hard I had to press my face against the windowsill. I think the neighbors heard me.

***

-Do you like my new skirt?
-Yes. I like the way your thighs look when you bend over.
-Yeah?
-Yeah. And your ass. I like your ass in that skirt.
-What about it?
-It’s so round.

***

-But. I had all these plans! I was going to put the collar on you!
-I’ve had all the submission I can take for one night. You liked dinner, didn’t you?

April 29, 2008 at 4:28 pm 1 comment

Quickie

I should be bathing right about now. Instead I’m sitting in the bathroom with the laptop on my lap. Shut up, I can stop any time I want!

I’m still sticky from things Bran and I did last night. I don’t have the time to give it a proper description, in part because of that 8:50 AM dentist’s appointment. Yes, my friends, I would rather be describing my kinky sexcapades than getting ready to go to the dentist. But clean teeth make for better kissing.

I got Bran a little tag to go with his collar. We talked a bit more about why he likes being a puppy — and I get it. You don’t have to think when you’re in puppy headspace. You can put all those complicated words away. Cats and dogs are just there to love you and make you happy. It’s nice work if you can get it.

He didn’t get here until 8:30 or so. I had a pot of chicken soup cooking when he arrived. About three or four hours after he walked in the door, I brought him a bowl of it in bed. He was naked, on his stomach, eating soup. I dipped a piece of bread in the broth and fed it to him.

“The next time we see each other we should go out,” he said. “We should do something date like.”

As if I needed another reason to like him.

March 25, 2008 at 12:27 pm Leave a comment


The search for truth, love, beauty, and mind-blowing orgasms

This blog contains sexually explicit material. If you are under 18 or offended by sex-talk, smut, kinksters, liberals, bisexuals, queers, poets, switches, bitches, or outspoken women, it's a free Internet (mostly) and you can go someplace else.

Sign up for email notification of new posts (you don't have to have a WordPress account).

Join 5 other followers


Click here to explore Good Releasing's various lines of adult titles and educational films representing independent artists who create authentic and diverse content.

Feeds