Looking for Mr Right Now

I slid my royal blue thong up over my hips and adjusted them to fit snugly. A matching push-up bra barely contains my DDs. A short black skirt, and white button down blouse unbuttoned down to THERE  completes the outfit. I debate between schoolgirl pumps and super high heels. I choose the pumps. There is a certain type of guy that I want to attract.

I take a look in the mirror as I leave, makeup perfect, hair demure, tidy body ready underneath.

As I enter the darkened bar, I can feel the eyes of several men, and a few women, on me. Taking a deep breath, I slide up to the bar, and order a chardonnay. Usually I go for something a little harder, but it is all part of the scene.

“Let me get that for you,” I hear in my ear. Standing WAY too close is a tall, heavy man, full beard, a little too nah for me. “Thanks, anyway,” I let him down gently. I turn at the bar and look around. An older man, rather short, nope. A young hispanic man, hmm, nah. Then HE turned around, smooth, dark, handsome. He had the look of a man who could enjoy a girl like me.

I take my wine over to a nearby table, making sure that I am facing slightly away from him. No need to broadcast my intent.

I slowly sip my wine, glancing at my phone. Then glancing at him.

I watch him put his beer down, and walk directly to my table.

“What are you doing here, little girl?” he asks.

“I think school is out,” I reply.

I see him grin, wide smile showing perfectly white teeth against a beautiful brown background. He pulls out a chair and sits down. “What’s your name, princess?”

“Candace,” I reply.

“Oh, like Candy,” he answers. The grin returns. “So, Candy, what are you doing tonight, besides this, I mean?”

“Well, this is it. Do you have any ideas?” I add my grin to his.

He reaches his face towards me, and stopped just short of touching his lips to mine. “Come with me,” he breathed. I can only nod in affirmation.

He rises and takes my hand in his and we walk out into the night.

(to be continued)


I miss you

I miss the way you touch my hair, warm brown in warm brown. You stroke my head gently, or you hold the back of my head as you ravage my lips.

I miss the dance of your tongue, slithering along, teasing mine with flits and flirts. You press your mouth hard on mine, sure to leave a bruise. Or you lick me, kiss my body in hidden spaces, suckle at the mother tit. Suck hard, baby. Nibble my clit and watch me squirm. Hear me cry out as I cum on your face, drenching you.

I miss your shoulders, your strong back. I loved massaging you, that broad expanse of beauty, lower and lower. I reach my arm around and squeeze your nipples hard, as I know you will do to me. I can feel your heart begin to race as I slide up your body.

I miss the curve of your ass, those yummy curves, my finger sliding along your crack. I tease your asshole, pushing just slightly hard enough make you tingle.

I miss your cock, your hard strength. You please me with it, drive in and out, filling my pussy every time. I am wet when I remember your weight on me, your hips covering mine, two joined in the primitive dance.

I miss the taste of you, of your body’s secrets. The smell of you in your rawness. The scent of your darkness where life begins, and where love continues. I drink in your essence, lapping your emissions, love juice.

I miss exposing myself to you, my dirty secrets that only you could know. I miss our quiet time, our true love time.

But most of all

I miss you


I am the big spoon. I am always the big spoon. If anyone asks, I actually prefer sleeping in my own space, on my belly or side. But my husband enjoys being spooned, enjoys the warmth, he says. So I do it for him.

As I cuddle up to him, naked front to naked back, I can’t help but think of another time, another spoon. That time, I wasn’t actually naked. A thick black strapon and some lube were between me and my lover. I pushed his upper leg forward so I could access his sweet ass. A lubed finger probed his hole to prepare it for my lady-cock. I could feel him tense, then relax as he became more excited. I teased his ass back and forth with the rubber dildo before positioning in just the right place. I moved my hips forward as the magic wand slowly entered him. I grabbed his hip with my hand and began to rock him, my cock sliding effortlessly into his larger opening. I felt my pussy swell and become wetter as it smashed against his ass. Pretty soon, I was slamming him hard against me, both of us grunting against the effort.

“Fuck me harder, Mistress,” he said. I smacked his ass with my open hand.

“Silence,” I said. I pulled him onto his knees and pushed his head down. I repositioned my cock at at his asshole, and drove it deep inside him. “There,” I told him, “you’ll get it nice and hard now.”

Again and again, I pounded his ass, taking him to my plastic balls. I felt my orgasm begin to build, and I finally let myself go, shuddering all the way to my toes.

I told him to turn over, grabbed his cock, and one, two, three, he squirted his load all over himself.

And now, naked front to naked back, it’s just a spoon. Sharing warmth. Affection.

But sometimes I remember…

Playtime (part 3)

Our foursome enters the elevator, and Jackie clasps my hand tightly. I resist the urge to draw her to me, to grab her by the neck and force her lips to mine. WHERE, I think, did that come from? I am not usually dominant in a relationship. Perhaps being with a woman would change that.

Kyle leads the way to the room, quickly scanning the room card. The hotel room is like any other, king bed, plush pillows, standard dresser and desk. Kyle has his computer set up on the desk with a porno playing. Lesbian porn, of course. What is it about lesbians, I wonder, that gets men so hot and bothered? Maybe I’ll get to find out! Continue reading “Playtime (part 3)”

Playtime! (part 2)

I message my consent to Kyle. I have decided to play with just us four. I think five will be too overwhelming, and I really want to taste and have time with the woman. I am a novice at licking a pussy, and have never touched a clit but my own, but I can feel my mouth watering at the prospect.

Kyle lets me know that he is in town on Thursday, so we will all be meeting at his hotel on Thursday evening. Jackie and Rick will meet us in the bar.

When Thursday arrives, I dress carefully, skillfully apply my makeup. I don’t want to look like a whore, but do want to look sensuous. Red heels complete my outfit of short, tight black skirt and red blouse with a plunging neckline.

As 7 pm arrives, so do I. Continue reading “Playtime! (part 2)”


“hello. would you want to play with another couple? you me and a couple?” read the message.

“Hmm,” I replied. “Never done that before. It sounds interesting.”

“would you be interested then? interested in female to female or just swap males? ” he responds.

“well I’ve never done female to female before but am interested to try” is my answer.

Originally, I had met Kyle through an ad for a massage. Massage, yeah, right. We both knew what that meant. He was offering massages for both men and women, and I have been on the lookout for a third for my boyfriend Jon and me. Kyle described himself as older but good looking, and he certainly was. Quite handsome, as a matter of fact. Since he was from out of town, there was also little chance that we would cross paths in our big little town. Kyle is also quite bi. I had a fabulous scenario of having him fuck my boyfriend in the ass next time he was in town. I would direct the action, and enjoy the results. But it looks like a different scenario might play out.

The only question is, do I ask for Jon to play as well, or just enjoy myself for a night out? We have an open relationship, so it’s not a problem.

Either way, I win! 🙂


Two approaches to a problem

with a guest author

Approach 1

He could tell she was upset. Usually Mistress is right there, letting him know what he should be doing. When she says “Fucktoy”, she means it. He had 30 minutes to be ready or else.

But today, no message. He reached out, tentatively. He didn’t want to suffer her wrath, after all, since she had the power to punish as well as reward.

Her response could only be described as curt. What was going on? Mistress is in need, obviously. But for what? His ass belongs to her, and she knows it. He is at her beck and call every Sunday. Maybe it’s something else. Maybe Mistress needs to be served in a different way today.

“Mistress Peaches”, he types, “what do you need? I’m here for you.” He hits send, and anxiously waits. Will she be mad? What DOES she want?

“I need to be taken care of,” she replies.

Shit! I don’t know what that means. I mean, we’ve had vanilla sex before. But that was before. Now she’s my mistress, and I’m her toy. I need a minute to think about this. She’s been having a hard time with some stuff lately. Some losses, lots of negative in her life.

I have an idea!

“Come here, Mistress,” I reply. “I’ll take care of your needs.”

She arrives 30 minutes later. I lead her gently to the bathroom and undress her. Help her into the tub that is just the temperature she likes – very hot! I hand her a glass of wine and kneel beside the tub. I stroke her with a washcloth full of scented foam. No words are spoken, but she begins to quietly cry. I continue to stroke her arms, legs, stomach, back. Gentle always. She sips her wine, then lays back and closes her eyes, tears continuing.

I take this to mean more, so I abandon the washcloth and stroke further down her body. I rub her clit and hear her gasp. I move my hand further down until I reach her pussy. Warm water and bubbles combine with her own lubrication to allow me to bring her orgasm. I rub harder, just like she likes, and soon I feel her walls contract around my fingers. She sighs and opens her eyes.

I help her out of the tub, and dry her with the warm towel. I lead her to the bed, and get under the covers with her, warming her with my body. She turns to me and cries more, and my heart breaks for her. I hold her, rubbing her back, letting her cry it out, as I whisper to her. “I have you. It will be okay. I’m here. You are safe.” I hope I am doing the right thing, but she is silent. She doesn’t move away, though, so I think it is good. I kiss her forehead, then her face. She holds me harder, as her cries subside. I reach between her legs, and she parts them willingly for me. Her pussy is swollen and still wet, and my finger slips inside easily. I reach her g-spot and she arches her back as she comes.

“Now,” she says, and I roll her onto her back. Vanilla, it is. I cover her body with mine, providing comfort as well as stimulation. I enter her and she groans loudly, pushing her hips into me. I slow her down, wanting to make sure that she is completely satisfied. “Let me,” I say, as I disengage, and slide down her body to reach her breasts. I suck one then the other, and she writes beneath my touch. I move further south to her muff. I part her lips with my fingers and begin licking her. A few licks and she is squirting into my mouth! I slide back up and enter her again, filling her with my hard dick. I stare into her eyes as I move, conveying caring and support and love. I kiss her face as I move, and she is grabbing my shoulders. Harder!, she is saying. So I pound into harder, my cock throbbing now. A loud low grunt, UNNGGGHHH, and she creams on my cock, her pussy walls grabbing me hard. I let go, I had no choice. I prayed she would not be mad at me for cumming without permission.

As we settled down, I rubbed her some more, her arms, her back.

“Thank you,” she said, for the first time.

“Yes, Mistress. You are welcome,” I replied. A different part of the relationship, but very vital.

Continue reading “Two approaches to a problem”