Then  we did some more making out and she started saying stuff like, “I want to see you naked, you would look so good naked,” and then she said something that implied she wanted to eat me out.  And I’m sure I would have let her but I was still bleeding.  And all this time we weren’t just screwing around, we were also talking about how we felt about each other and what the hell Erica was going to do about Juree–still loving her and all.  Christmas we went to Chris’s sister’s house.  Just being in a room with Erica makse me hot an I can’t stand having to hide it from everyone.  The day after Christmas were were at Chris’s and stayed in bed until 4pm.  We did it again but I told her to be gentle and that I might bleed.  She said she didn’t care.  The night before we had gone into the kitchen to get something to eat and were screwing around for a while w/one of us sitting on the counter.  Then the lights went out (we did it, not nature) and were were on the kitchen floor.  Erica is so proud of herself that she can completely control her mind and body and can stop in the middle of sex at any time.  So she was biting my neck and that sort of hurts but also feels good at he same time so I was moaning/squeaking/breathing heavy which gets Erica off to know that she can get  me that excited.  Then she stopped and told me I was lucky she stopped herself because she was close to being out of control.  And then she started again, only lower so marks couldn’t be seen by anyone who didn’t see me with my shirt off.  And she was sucking so hard for so long I had to finally stop her.  She freaked out because she had gotten out of control and hurt me.  But I told her it was alright.  An that’s when she wanted to know how I felt about her.  But I honestly have no idea except for physical need-want-lust.  What bothered me the most though was no matter what she couldn’t stop thinking about Juree.  After we had sex, right after, she talked about Jeree and how far she got her hand up her.  I was trying to be understanding but by Monday I told her I wanted her talking about me.  But still, I’m just too nice, I give so much.  I told her I wanted to take care of her.  She told me she could feel herself falling in love with me.  So I asked her what would she do if I loved her.  Who knows, I might.  I asked if there was anything I could do to make her come to me rather than beg Juree to have her back.  She said no.  At that moment I would have done anything.  But now the time is lost.  She left Tuesday night saying she’d miss me.  And perhaps she has.  But she still has Amy and could get Juree and I have no one but myself, once again, to rely upon.  Things will never be like they were here, Christmas Vacation 1989 in Los Angeles, California.  The time, feeling, freedom, is all lost.  If Juree rejects her, Erica will come to me and I know I should say no, for her to be by herself for a while, but I’ll probably give in.  Because I’m weak, subservient.  Juree either was or is down here and she was supposed to call me but she didn’t.  Erica said I would do the same to Juree that I did to her.  I most likely would have.  But she didn’t call, maybe all for the better.  Things happen the way they do to reach a certain good place.  Erica called Juree when she was down here and Juree said that she and Amy had ha sex.  Erica was pissed but I think she had no right to be.  Erica was buying presents for Juree an not for anyone else basically.  I can understand, Juree being her first love an all, me being a useless fling.  My position in life.  But she did make me feel good about myself.  Telling me I’m beautiful, not fat, a good person, and she liked the way I walked.  She made me feel lovable.  Who knows how things will be when I get back.  I still want to have an honest talk amongst the four of us.  But the four of us have never been alone together and I would have to set up the meeting w/o the others knowing about it because they wouldn’t agree to it.  The bruise from Erica’s incessant sucking is still apparent 5 days later.  Pain is pleasure–scratching, biting, pounding.  No handcuffs–shit.   More sexual exploration later.  She knows where the ol’ clitoris is (she should, she has one) and made my legs twitch.  I said I only had sex w/a guy once but I wonder if she thought I meant all sex.  I just meant coitus.  Not finger and mouth–let’s count–4 different people finger an one mouth.  I’m quite the experienced little ho-bag (5 now), maybe I am a tease.  No, ’cause I’ve only said no to coitus twice and that’s all I’ve refused.  Not twice, three times–Jason Bornstein, Robbie, and Mike.  No one else has wanted to with me.  Except suddenly I’m popular with the girls.  What about guys, don’t they have eyes?  Erica said everyone at [our high school] save four people thinks I’m sexy.  Curtis, Eric Fodge, Justin Fisher, and someone else.  Boy, I wish these people who think I’m so sexy would act upon it.  She said that I’m very sexy.  If I remember correctly, she said this right after she had made me writhe all over the bed in ecstasy.  Maybe I am sexy, yay!  I told her I don’t fake things and I never act.  She asked if I would fake an orgasm for her and I said nope.  But mostly because I wouldn’t know how.  I don’t even know if I had one or not.  Is the leg twitching orgasm?  Who knows.  I wish I knew how things were going to be when I get back.  I guess I can wait though.  We’re going back to Melrose tomorrow for me to spend the rest of my money.  Tomorrow night I’m leaving again for home.  My mother suggested I move down here and live with DJ.  We would be great roommates.  I have no idea at all what I’m doing New Year’s Eve.  I’m getting home and then what?  Call Amy’s house to talk to either or both Amy and/or Erica.  Try to get the four of us together but Juree’s 21 and will want to go to some drinking party.  I just don’t know what to do.  What if everyone hates me?  What if Juree hates me for sleeping with Erica and Amy hates me for sleeping with Erica and Erica hates me for sleeping with Erica?  Oh God what to do?  Just wait be patient

some nights

some nights we regress

feel a snarl grow deep in our gut

prowl dark alleys for easy prey

clench teeth and bite lips to blood

we regress

to primeval roots

to a driving lust

to a frothing anger

even the animals around us

fear us

some nights

By Real Faucher

from:  Notebook/Cuaderno:  A Literary Journal, Volume 5, Number 2, 1989.

[Continued from “What A Guy (Part 1).”]

From: S M <shazamsf@sbcglobal.net>
To: [Mike]
Sent: Friday, June 26, 2009 12:21:34 AM
Subject: Re: Its nice to say hello

I would welcome anyone telling me I’ve fucked something up in my blog or my SF Sex and Relationships Examiner articles.

I’m not sure what you would expect from me if you fly me to Florida.  Please be as explicit (or not) as possible, and I will be the same with you.

*****

Suzanne,

Nice to hear back from you. Everyday I read your twits and enjoy your “out there” attitude about what is on your mind and what you crave. I take you for being honest to what you put out there and not just spouting things for effect and attention. It is one of the things I enjoy about your twitter. As far as what I expect, well that can be a two edge sword with some women (used correctly 😉 ). I think “You can handle the truth” so I will not pull punches. I want a friend to come visit and get her dreams and fantasies fulfilled. I have a number of connections to make even the most decadent fantasies come true.

I once had a marred lady friend from Canada come for a visit with hubbies permission as usual and we went to the swingers club I am a member of and with no plans, we ended up fulfilling her dream of being the center of a 13 man (safe sex) gang bang with me photographing it for her and I being #13 as she was DP’d. One friend arrived as we were preparing to leave the club for airport, and in the van, got to fist fuck her and cum all over her huge tits.  She went right to the airplane with dried cum on her and did not realize it until she reached Atlanta. She got home to tell her husband all about it, and of course he had seen the 300+ photos I took prior, and they had a night of sex to remember.

For your trip, I would ask when we talked about some of those lingering fantasies you have yet to live out. I for one have a few and would love to find an open minded sex partner to fulfill them with. Upon your arrival in Tampa or Orlando airport, I expect you to be dressed as slutty as you can be, with no panties/bra on and picking you up and asking if you had done as I requested on your flight here. M request would be to make a sexual advance to your row partner and regardless of man or woman, to engage in mutual masturbation and getting them off, but not allowing yourself to cum, because you did not have my permission to get off without me being present. You will allow them to fondle you under your skirt and play with your tits while you finger fuck a woman or jerk a guy off to completion.

Upon arrival, I will pick you up and take you to a local area bar/restaurant to get a meal and also take advantage of the sexy mini skirt you have on, and tell you to let it ride up and sit yourself to allow others to peak at your legs and gander on your now wet cunt. I will occasionally finger your dripping pussy and lick my fingers quite blatantly and offer my fingers to you as well. During dinner we will go to the restroom and go into a stall where I will have you blow me and then bend over the toilet and tell me to fuck your dripping wet pussy so hard as you have been dying for it all day. I make you grip my cock from between your open legs and put my cock at the entrance to your cunt, and tell me to fuck you hard and in one stroke I bury it balls deep.

We will continue to fuck, regardless of anyone who enters, making you bite your lip to keep from screaming out from my complete strokes into your dripping cockpit. You will cum quickly and as you begin to relish in the waves of pleasures, I pull out my hard cock and begin to explore your tight asshole. I tell you to spread your ass cheeks wide open and I enter that tight ass, and stroke deep and hard and I will
explode and leave my cum deposit deep in your asshole. We then return to our table and I make you keep your legs spread as I like seeing the pool of cum leaking out of your ass onto your chair.

We will then leave the restaurant, and on the drive to the hotel at the nudist resort, I make you lean over and lick off your cunt and ass juice from my cock the entire ride home. Leaning over, I pull up your mini skirt and leave your ass exposed to any vehicle that may pull up alongside of us on the expressway. When I notice someone looking in, I tell you to reach between your legs and spread your pussy open and finger your cunt for their enjoyment.

Suzanne,that will begin your adventure to see me here in Florida and that is only the first few hours. The trip I hope will be something to quench unfulfilled desires so when you return home, it keeps you yearning for how soon you can return to Florida and get nasty with me and others.

Here to your ass being on the next available plane from SF to Tampa/Orlando. My treat of course.

Mike

*****

From: “S M” <shazamsf@sbcglobal.net>
To: [Mike]

Sent: 6/27/2009 2:54 AM
Subject: Re: Its nice to say hello

Should I make the trip I would need to be compensated for my time.

*****

Suzanne, time compensation? Are you really broaching that area? Seriously? What happen to two people who get to know one another and begin a fulfilling friendship and enjoy the company of one another without there having a fucking $ figure added to it. I was offering you a very nice getaway with a similar person and offered to fly and take you to a nice resort and have a nice experience that who knows, could possibly lead to more of such adventures. Being blunt, like you enjoy, I am not about hiring escorts. There are amazing ones close by. I do however enjoy knowing them and other sexually aware women because they are not afraid to say they love sex and I do not have to be someone else around them. I have been a BF to an escort (I harbor no jealously) and I appreciate what they offer, especially when they make the choice to be all that they can be to make the other feel great.It is disapointing that from all of which you write on Twitter and in your rimjob blogs, this is the first I have heard of you also requiring compensation. I too could be a male gigolo and in fact with my previous GF, was in the opportunity to assist as one.I am a realist and a man who enjoys dating and treating someone to a nice time. I have even had a 2 year LD relationship with a woman in Texas, who still is a friend though we broke up. I could not be the man she wanted, and I was truthful to her and let her know. She is now married and had a child as well. That was not in my deck of cards at that time.

Your stance in this rendezvous, is a date breaker to me. I was willing to pay your expenses to come and while here, but additional time payment is not on the table. Sorry.

I hope you give some thought, and if this is a prerequisite to us enjoying one another company, that at least we will still tweet. I am not sure if you follow me or not, but I have a feeling you don’t and maybe you will add me and get to know me and enjoy me in a different realm that you currently have.

Pardon me if there are errors, as I am using my phone to type this email. I will reread and hope to catch any T9 predictive corrections.

Mike
PS: As always, I hope you appreciate my upfront and honest replies. I am not even sure what you thought of my previous “explicit” events. They were not fantasies but realistic ideas of just a part of what I enjoy in life and sex.

*****

[Mike then continued to @ tweet to me regarding what I wanted to do when I was in Florida, asking what kind of alcohol I like, that he was enjoying himself at the nudist resort (though inexplicably he’d always capitalize the “n” in nudist.)]

*****

ShazamSF: Just because I want to fuck doesn’t mean I want to fuck YOU.

*****

@[Mike]:  @shazamsf, wow that was pretty well put out there 🙂 Ducking and hoping it was not for me 🙂

*****

[Mike @ tweeted some more asking if I’d received his email.  So fucking annoying.]

*****

[I emailed that I had received his email.  At the time I was not planning to respond at all.]

___________________________________________________________________

Stick around, because it really does keep getting better.  And there’s another photo coming.

I swear.  True story.

We agreed to meet at Dolores Park.  I’d learned my lesson long before that people who post ads on Craig’s List are often flakes so I always prepare for no one to show up.  I often take Isis to Dolores Park anyway, so if she didn’t show the day wouldn’t be wasted.

I had responded to her ad in the Casual Encounters w4w section.  Her ad wasn’t long, but it was more interesting than the usual, “I have a boyfriend and want to explore my naughty bi side.”  She had a bottle of absinthe and wanted to share it, and possibly herself, with an interesting woman.

We met in the park and sat and chit-chatted while Isis ran around a bit.  We discovered we had attended two different schools at the same time, but had no clue the other existed until the meeting in the park.

She was hot.  Very much my type of woman: a bit dykey, thin but curvy, and with small, perky breasts.  She was obviously not wearing a bra that day in the park, and I loved seeing her nipples push up against the fabric of her halter top.

I lost my cell phone in the park that day.  I suspected some people who were sitting near us stole it so I confronted them.  They denied it, but not until after telling me, in Spanish, to suck their collective dick.  I was so proud that I knew that one phrase and told them so.  Despite my lame behavior she seemed to want to spend more time with me.

I walked back to my house with Isis while Ms. Absinthe drove to her place, conveniently located in Noe Valley, to get the bottle of absinthe she had advertised having.  Once at my house she poured us drinks.  Not only did we taste the delicious absinthe, but she gave me a lesson on why it’s drunk diluted with water, and what the clouding is called.  She was preparing to be the bartender at a prohibition-themed party and wanted to be able to do more than just pour so she was practicing on me.  She did an excellent job.

We got along quite well.  She kissed me.  I’m always surprised when a woman whom I find attractive is attracted to me.  It doesn’t come from a self-loathing place; I am simply not my type.

She had great breasts.  They were nice and little and soft with nipples that got hard in the most delicious way when I bit down on them.  I hadn’t done more than kiss a woman in over ten years and was worried about my performance.  She later assured me by email, “Actually, I’d say I had a rather nice fucking.  Thank you very much.”  So fucking cool.

We quickly began to spend all of our free time together.  As neither of us was employed, we had a lot of free time.  Also because neither of us was employed, we didn’t have any damn money to do anything much more than hang out at my house.

We watched “the L Word” together.  Cliché I know, but I watched the show anyway, not just because I was seeing a woman.

We cooked at my place several times a week.  She made me corned beef and cabbage, which I’d only had once before.  Together we made and froze what seemed like a gross of won tons.  We made a yummy gnocchi with meat sauce, all from scratch.  I made my beef short ribs and mashed potatoes for her brother when he was in town.  She took me to restaurants I’d never been before and was impressed when I liked chicken feet and all the pig parts.

Things became intense very quickly.  We had great sex.

Just a few weeks after we met, we took a trip to Orr Hot Springs.  Ms. Absinthe had a Mini Cooper and loved to drive.  She liked that I had no problem with her taking the windy roads of Mendocino County at a nice clip.  I thought it was sexy that she was a good driver.  Orr was really nice.  We stayed overnight in the yurt just outside the front gate.  There were private rooms with huge claw-foot tubs big enough for two.  The water was hot and mineral-rich.  From the main pool of the “resort” we could see daffodils in bloom all over the surrounding hillsides.

Before too long our relationship went from fun and light to Ms. Absinthe asking  “where we stand.”  I made it clear that I didn’t want a “real” relationship, and that there was NO way I was going to be monogamous, but that I really did dig her scene.

We continued to have hot, hot sex.  We took a couple of trips to Good Vibrations on Valencia to get supplies, including lube and gloves.  It had never occurred to me to have sex with gloves before Ms. Absinthe introduced the idea.  I now buy boxes of medical-grade nitrile gloves for use during sexy times.  They’re a whole lot of fun all lubed up.  Great for fisting.

Ms. Absinthe was the first person who fisted me.  And I was the first person she fisted.  They were intensely intimate experiences for both of us.  She wrote me a poem on the subject:

On your couch

I kiss your mouth
and slowly breathe you in.
Your teeth, lightly gnash against my skin.
You begin to tweak and twist my nipples until I gasp,
I find my way between your legs
grinding my hand onto your wet pussy
back and forth, up and down,
finally pressing in.
You bite harder, I push deeper.
My clenched fist
inside your cunt;
I can barely move.
You’re so fucking tight, and so fucking hot.
Your walls clamp down around my hand
I just want to punch right through.
Thrusting your pelvis higher; you’re telling me to fuck you harder, to fuck you faster,
to fuck you forever.
Your body undulating to your own rhythm,
I’m entranced by the sway of your hips, lulling me closer.
I can’t keep my eyes off your twisting shape.
Now I’m on top of you.
But I can’t get any deeper,
I can only fuck you desperately, fuck you faster.

Our sex life was not a problem. One of our trips to Good Vibrations resulted in the purchase of Tristan Taormino‘s  The Ultimate Guide to Anal Sex for Women 2nd Edition.  We read it together and utilized some of its many tips when we incorporated anal play into our sex.

As our sex life together was developing we discussed strap-ons.  Neither of us had any experience using a harness, but we were willing to try.  Further discussions resulted in us agreeing that she would pick out the harness that she felt most comfortable using, and I would pick out the big, thick cock with which I wanted her to fuck me.

We went to Good Vibrations … and chickened out.  The Good Vibrations on Valencia had roughly 15 feet of wall space devoted to various harnesses and the implements that can be put in them.  Here we were, two well-educated, adult, sex-positive women who really wanted to expand their sex lives, but even we were intimidated.

Because while Good Vibrations has an open, non-judgmental environment it does not have any privacy.  Ms. Absinthe would have had to try on any harnesses out there on the store floor; and I would have had to pick out a number of dildos for her to try on with each harness out there in the open.  We were not ashamed in any way of what we wanted to do, but not being ashamed does not equal wanting everyone in a store knowing what we’re planning on doing in private.

Nonetheless, our sex continued to evolve, and continued to be good.  Our relationship, however, wasn’t so good.

Ms. Absinthe kept wanting to talk about our feelings and what we wanted from each other.  I just wanted to hang out and have fun.  I was still trying to figure out what it meant to be a divorced woman in her mid-30s.  I was getting used to being single, but I wasn’t yet divorced.  Neither I nor the Ex had even bothered to file for divorce yet, though it was clear we would not be trying to reconcile.

Only Ms. Absinthe didn’t believe that the Ex and I weren’t trying to reunite.  Ms. Absinthe and the Ex met, and got along pretty well.  I think because she saw that he and I were civil (we had animals to co-parent after all) that that meant we should get back together.  She didn’t seem to believe me when I assured her there was no way he and I would ever get back together even if we were friendly with each other.

The words I said to Ms. Absinthe didn’t seem to get through to her.  She appeared to think I was being dishonest, or just wasn’t admitting everything to her.  However, I was nothing if not brutally honest.  Despite my assertions that I don’t make pronouncements lightly, she just didn’t seem to believe me when I said the Ex and I would never get together again and that I had no interest in being in a monogamous relationship.

To that end, I continued to fuck men when I could, and it was during this time I had the threesome with Mr. Zip and the 21-year-old booze hound.  I told Ms. Absinthe exactly what I was planning on doing that night and suggested she stay at her own place.  She opted to stay at my place, and was still up at 5am when I got home.  That was definitely troublesome.

Things were going bad, and fast.  She was at my place all the time, and I value my alone time, more than the average person, I think.  I began doing what I did when the Ex and I were living together and I needed to be alone in a loft apartment–I used ear buds and listened to podcasts whether home alone or not.  Pretty rude behavior when one has a house guest, but being at my house constantly was also rather rude of Ms. Absinthe.

She became needy, and our sex went from hot to me turning her down as often as I could get away with without generating a discussion.  I was a fucking bitch to her most of the time.  I really am shitty at breaking up when I know the relationship should end.  So I do the chickenshit move of cheating (on the Ex) or in some other way making the prospect of being with me miserable.  No, I am not proud of myself.

The last time we saw each other Ms. Absinthe picked up toothpaste she had left at my place after a trip to Costco.  She texted me a birthday wish soon thereafter.  My emails requesting friendship went unanswered.

I swear.  True story.

This is what I was thinking of when I masturbated the other day.  I was able to come despite suffering from a cold and severe back pain.

kani

I want my calves bound to my thighs so my legs are wide open.  I want to be on the edge of a bed or a table so a man with a nice huge cock can stand up and pound my pussy and my ass at his whim.  Or it could be a woman with a big dildo strapped into her harness; I’ve not had enough experience with women and strap-ons for this to be something that pops into my head unbidden, but the image is certainly not unwelcome.

I want his cock to slide into my ass.  Slow and easy, working its way up to fast and hard.  Then he should slow down again, as he slips his fingers into my pussy.  He’ll be using lots of lube so everything will slither into me without effort.

His cock will be in my ass as he slips one, then two, then three fingers into my pussy.  He’ll be slowly pushing his rod into and out of my ass while at the same time his fingers reach up and massage that special spot inside my cunt.

Then, I want his whole hand inside me and his cock in my ass; to be completely and utterly full.  And I can’t do a thing because I’m tied up all pretty.

I swear.  True (fantasy) story.

Sex with 26yo is too fucking good.  And I want to look at him and touch him all the time.  Which I know means my body is telling my mind to be into him.  I could look at his mouth forever.  Only I can’t.  I have to look away because it’s so fucking beautiful.  Yeah, not the way to feel about some guy I’m just fucking.

And I like talking to him too, which is more trouble.  And I want him to fuck other women if he wants.  Actually, I want him to tell me about fucking other women.

My pussy feels so deliciously fucked.  I love riding his cock.  Today he was going to fist me from behind while I was on my hands and knees but we got distracted.  His cock feels so good in me.

It’s so cool to look down between my legs and see him with a big grin on his face.  He has the sexy wonky tooth I love too, so he has one of those goofy smiles that tries to hide it.

Great kisser too.  I kind of wasn’t feeling it until he kissed me.  And then I kept thinking, “I’m gonna get fucked” and it made me so happy.

So I’m in a good mood and I get a call from a friend who’s really shitty right now.  I’m trying to be supportive and say what he wants to hear while still being honest.  Then he tried doing some finger-pointing at me.  But I just got fucked really well so I can’t get angry.  Good sex really does release endorphins.

I feel most myself when I’m having sex.  And with 26yo I can admit everything I like.  Cause we like some of the same things.  But now I don’t know if I want to fuck others with him.  Actually looking at him with a contended look on his face while getting pounded by a few guys sounds kinda nice.  Yes, I can feel it in my pussy when I think about it.  But defintiely looking at that beautiful face.

Mr. Zip had placed an ad in CL looking for women who wanted to participate in a threesome with him and me.  Mr. Zip has had MANY successful encounters based on his well-written CL posts.  Mr. Zip’s ads are longer than most, and make clear that he wants not only a sexy, kinky woman, but one who can write and carry on an intelligent conversation.

When he places an ad with me in mind for a threesome, I let him do all the hard work of sorting through the responses.  I trust his judgment and know that he knows how to find a woman with whom we will both have fun.  However, I don’t show up to the party with no idea of who will be there.

Mr. Zip culls through the men, the idiots, the couples, the too old, the too young, and forwards me the approved emails with photos.  Mr. Zip is always enthusiastic about potential encounters and usually writes something gushing about a the lady along with her forwarded email.

Mr. Zip was particularly keen on a young lady of only 21 years, and not only because she was a young lady of only 21 years, though sometimes that is enough.  In our case, however, we didn’t need to settle for just young, soft, flesh.  Sarah (sounds nice, doesn’t it?) was a smart girl who was also kinky.

Sarah was a physics major at UC Davis so she was no dummy.  She was engaged to be married but wanted to do some exploring before she settled down.  She was interested in threesomes, D/s, etc., and was doing the difficult work of getting all her experiences in before she was to marry.  (I do not subscribe to this apparently common idea that people can get things out of their systems before settling down.  It simply doesn’t work.)

Sarah didn’t want to engage in any of her sexual adventures close to school for fear that word would get back to her fiancé that she was a dirty girl, which she was.  Also, Davis, California, doesn’t have much in the way of opportunities for threesomes beyond the drunken frat party.

The three of us decided to get together at Mr. Zip’s house on a week night.  One of the major impediments to threesomes is having to juggle three schedules; we lucked out that all of us were available relatively soon after Sarah initially responded to Mr. Zip’s ad.  Sarah had to drive a little more than an hour to get to San Francisco from Davis, but was willing to do so for the opportunity to have fun with the two of us.

Mr. Zip and I were relaxing at his house waiting for Sarah.  I had some wine while we waited (Mr. Zip isn’t much of a drinker).  Sarah text messaged Mr. Zip several times to tell us she was stuck in traffic.  And stuck she was.  There was some sort of accident that caused a Sarah’s trip to take twice as long as it should have.

When she finally arrived, Sarah was upset about the traffic and apologetic that she’d taken so long.  Mr. Zip and I were fine, just sorry she was so frazzled by the traffic.  Mr. Zip gave Sarah some wine while she settled in.

She told us about the first time she’d had sex:  it was a threesome with a man and another woman.  They were also significantly older than she.  Mr. Zip and I certainly could see the pattern; I was in my mid-30s, and Mr. Zip in his mid-40s.

Sarah was quite the drinker; she was keeping up with me.  The three of us were getting to know each other, but mostly we wanted to know her.  She said she found her soul mate, her fiancé, in the physics department and knew he was the one because they were both studying the same obscure specialty within the field.

Sarah and I started kissing each other.  Mr. Zip was around but he could tell that Sarah felt more comfortable with me than him at the time.  Eventually we went into the bedroom where the three of us began exploring each others’ bodies.  Sarah was concerned that her breasts were to high when compared to mine.  I didn’t take it as an insult, but I did explain that she needn’t worry, because with another decade of gravity her breasts would likely be lower on her chest too.  Sarah’s body was soft yet firm, like 21-year-old flesh should be.

We were still drinking wine and Sarah continued to keep pace with me … until she didn’t.  Without warning, Sarah ran to Mr. Zip’s bathroom, where she puked in his sink.  Mr. Zip and I talked to her through the bathroom door.  She said she’d be ok.  We brought her some water.  Eventually she emerged from the bathroom and went back to the living room to rest on the couch.  But not for long, because she vomited on the couch.  She darted back into the bathroom, where she was again sick.

Mr. Zip was cleaning Sarah’s barf off his couch when Sarah finally came out of the bathroom.  She and I sat on Mr. Zip’s bed.  Sarah was crying.  Through the blubbering and tears she told me that she was extremely embarrassed, but she had clogged the bathroom sink with her puke.  I assured her that it would be no problem to take care of and went to the bathroom to assess the damage.

The sink was up to the safety drainage hole in vomitus-laden water.  I fiddled with the plunger but nothing happened.  So I reached into the sink in an attempt to pull the drain stop out.  I could not.  Nothing I did helped the sink drain, but I was in vomit up to mid-forearm.  Sexy!  I told Mr. Zip that his sink was clogged and that there was nothing I knew to do (I’m not a fucking plumber.) and then went to the kitchen sink to thoroughly wash my hand and arm.

Sarah was still in Mr. Zip’s bedroom, crying.  She sputtered that she wasn’t a drinker but that she was trying to calm down when she guzzled the wine.  (I really wish she had told us that before she up-chucked everywhere.)  I sat next to her on the bed and told her it was no big deal, that we were all nervous.  She kept apologizing to me and saying she wanted to make it a good experience for me.  I made  it clear that I wasn’t the one who was inexperienced and that everything was fine.  I recall her resting her head on my breast and me stroking her hair.  I felt both maternal and turned on; it felt wrong and so right.  I soothed her until she was no longer crying.

She looked  up at me with tear stains on her cheeks and looked so pretty.  Mr. Zip and I weren’t sure if Sarah was well, but she assured us that she was feeling much better.  We proceeded to have our threesome.

At one point I was on my back and she was straddling me.  Mr. Zip was standing at the foot of the bed between our legs.  I reached down to play with her pussy so he could see the nice view.  Then, while we were still in that position, Mr. Zip fucked me.  It was an interesting feeling to have the person fucking me not the person on top of me.

Sarah was enthralled when she watched Mr. Zip fist me.

We had a lot of fun, but the traffic and the puking had taken up a lot of time.  It was 5am and I needed to get home to my animals.  Mr. Zip gave me a ride home.

Mr. Zip told me that when he got back to his house Sarah was asleep in his bed.  He, too, was exhausted.  After they napped Mr. Zip was surprised to find that Sarah was interested in exploring more of her naughty side with him alone.  The night before she had seemed focused on me; they hadn’t had much interaction at all, and certainly hadn’t fucked.  But when it was just the two of them she asked him to spank her plump bottom.  He gladly obliged, and then he fucked her.

Sarah and Mr. Zip stayed in email contact for some time.  She told him that she drove to San Jose (an even further drive for her) to have another threesome with a MW couple, and that she wanted to see us again.  Scheduling often gets in the way of threesomes, and a second encounter wasn’t to be.

I swear.  True story.

I want to go into Humphrey Slocombe and taste some ice cream.  They have these tiny metal tasting spoons and they’ll spend as much time with you as you want, and let you taste as many flavors as you’d like.  They’re so nice and friendly.  They must realize that a lot of people who go there are stoned out of their gourds.

I want to go there and taste a bunch of ice creams.  It won’t be busy at all so I won’t feel guilty about tasting every flavor and savoring each one for a LONG time.  Yum.  I’ll take a tiny spoonful into my mouth and slide it off the spoon.  Then I’ll push each tiny spoonful of ice cream to the roof of my mouth and let the bit of ice cream swim around my mouth, between my teeth, to all of my taste buds.  It’s all so fucking creamy.  I can smell it as I taste it, as if the smell is going to the backsides of my sinuses.  It’s so fucking good.

Then I’m on the counter.  I’m face down right at the register.  The register is going through me (this is a fantasy; anything can happen) but the employees can still work.  It’s almost as if I’m an enigma. But the customers can touch me because in order to get to the register they must walk between my legs.  My legs are wide open, my feet are bare.

In order to make any purchases people must walk between my legs.  I’m spread wide so each customer must snuggle up to my crotch in order to hand over cash to get his yummy, yummy ice cream.  Some slide their licked-clean tiny metal spoons into my ass.  In and out … in and out … in and out.  So slow, so nice.  And cold.  Some people bend down and lick as they’re sliding their tiny spoons into and out of my asshole.

Some people attend to my ass and slide fingers into my pussy as well.  Several people come into the shop and take it as normal that when making their purchases they play with my ass and my pussy.  My ass is always involved.  Eventually, I get wet enough that each customer is able to slowly and easily slip his entire hand into me.  The women fist me too.  Nice and rhythmic and easy.  In and out.  I’m so wet.  It feels especially good when someone’s fisting me and caressing my sphincter with her tongue simultaneously.

The shop starts to get busy.  No one can spend nearly enough time slowly sliding his fingers into my pussy and my ass; there’s a line forming.  The busier it gets in the shop the faster each person must thrust her hand into me.  Pretty soon, every time the register drawer opens there’s a fist punching my pussy.  Each time.  Faster and faster.  The shop is doing great business, as is my pussy.

Alternatively, I’m on my knees in front of the counter so I must suck and lick everything that’s put to my face.  Cocks are shoved down my throat.  Pussies are ground onto my face.  No matter what, all the store’s patrons can do whatever they want to me.  I’m a nasty, slutty tool for each person to use as s/he wants–my mouth, my cunt, my ass are all to be objectified, and heavily.

Harder and harder, faster and faster.  EVERYONE puts his hand in me.  They take turns thrusting into my wet, loose cunt.  Each time I grunt.  I can take it.  I can take more.  Until finally, I come.  I scream.  S-C-R-E-A-M out as I come.  Everyone looks up from eating their ice cream, but in a very nonchalant way.  “Yeah, that chick on the counter came because we were all treating her pussy like the sloppy cunt it is, but that’s so not a big deal.”

But then business slows down.  My pussy is spent, the store closes.  I sit on the floor naked and eat salt and pepper ice cream.  My legs are long and lean (it’s a fantasy, dammit) and stretched out before me.

I swear.  True story (of my fantasy).