Pwned

What's a girl to do when her kids have commandeered BOTH copies of the new Harry Potter book? I think we all know the answer to that one.

It's chilly for July and when we climbed into bed, my arms were covered in goosebumps. I had a hunch things might warm up quickly though. Especially with a new battery in the pocket rocket.

It's funny how much difference a new battery can make.

Peter's mouth was hot on me while I buzzed, and I found story fragments and little self-made movie vignettes flashing through my head as my clit swelled to bursting. I came very close to orgasm several times, but with that knowledge that I sometimes get that it's going to be too intense -- painful even, if I don't back off and change things up a little. Pater's wandering hand found my nipples, stroking them lightly, making them stand out rock hard and tingly until I found just the right balance and that amazing wave lifted me up high, higher and higher until I fell over the edge and everything crashed down around me, over me, through me.

It's right at that point that the hair trigger comes into play. I know I've mentioned it before, but I think it's important, so I'm mentioning it again. It's right here that I find things so damn intense that I never used to cross that threshold. But now I know that if I power through, I'll come again in seconds, almost always with a hot gush of fluid. And again. And again.

It's funny how this works, because sometimes each orgasm is distinct, and at other times, it's like one incredibly long orgasm with more intense peaks all along the way.

Eventually, it was Peter's turn. I licked him a bit, sucked him, straddled him, and lowered myself onto his hard cock. Heaven. I had the urge to grab the buzzer again and came instantly. It seemed that every time I moved on him, I was in danger of coming again. I say danger, but it's not like I was trying to avoid having orgasms. And so I did. Again and again. The song in our "cover music" inspired some little hip circles, which Peter found entertaining.

But what was even better was when we swapped spots, and I lay on my back with Peter above me, parting me once again, and lacing his fingers through mine, pinning my hands to the bed above my head. There's something about being overpowered like this -- owned -- that is incredibly titillating. A little hard thrusting and I thought I'd burst. So fucking good.

Maybe it's become Pavlovian (it certainly involves plenty of moisture) but every time Peter withdraws after coming, I come again. Just as the ridge of his cock brushes past my G-spot it starts, and he's learned to slide up over my clit as soon as he's out, prompting more gushing. I certainly wasn't dehydrated. Though I may be now. ^_^

Could someone turn on the fan please?

Selkie

She rises from the pool
Dripping
Gleaming in the moonlight
Shakes crystal sparks of water
Carelessly from her hair
Then casts aside a shadow
Sits and lets the gentle breeze
Caress her
Enfold her in its loving embrace

The unseen watcher
Clenches his fingers
Holds his breath as she arches her back
Offering her breasts to the silver fingers of moonlight
Slips a hand down beteen her legs
And begins a slow
Langorous teasing

(cont. . .)

Creative Juices

"Fuckbunny Mode"

It made me laugh when you said I was in "Fuckbunny Mode." ^_^

I think it helps my writing. And my writing helps FBMode. Kind of a pleasantly vicious cycle. AND I had a major breakthrough in my novel. Even though it's not a smut book. Wowza. Cool!

I have to say, that tracing of my slippery slit with your thumb or finger -- just a hint of penetration -- yeah that was a Good Thing. :)

When I sucked you clean afterward, I could taste my own tanginess on you.

I guess it really gets the juices flowing

Chance Meeting

So far from the proverbial
Gaze across a crowded room
Instead, she was lying
Mud-besmirched
In the garden
Fascinated by a tiny spider
The miniature
Intricate lace of its handiwork
Stretched between two rhododendrons

And he
He was simply passing through on his way to the manor
Part of a hunting party
Scheduled to meet with her brother
12 pm sharp

But her skirt
Rucked up so casually above her calves
Smooth, pale flesh so carelessly exposed
Gave him pause
And her neck
So gracefully inclined in her fascination
Made him halt
Stop dead
And stare

And if he slipped a hand up under that skirt
And if she gasped, but wriggled down upon it anyway
Eyes shut tight in
What -- Shyness? Pleasure?

And if he turned her over
Pushed her skirt high up
Those long
Smooth legs
And entered her
With just a hint of urgency

And if she pressed down hard upon his stiffness
Taking him deep inside herself
Feeling him move within her
Pressing back against each eager thrust

Well who could blame them?

2 Rounds

Peter and I decided to go for 2 last night. I have to say that THAT was fun. I lost track of exactly how much fun I had. And Peter said that Round 2 was quite "different." Interesting.

Summer's Afternoon

Her hair is loose
Long down her bare, bare back
Her sun-kissed skin still warm from those golden rays
Though stripes of shadow have crept in
Stroking her with their cool fingers

He cannot help the catch in his breath
When she shifts
And the side of one breast peeks out at him
Impudent
Inviting
Begging his touch

She looks up into his eyes
Sees the dark intensity there
Smiles
Then bites her lip
Turns her head
And rests it again on her arms
But her skin prickles with gooseflesh
Under the caress of his gaze.

Thawing Out

It's fucking cold here. Again. Being all horned up yet again, I needed Peter to warm me a bit with a snuggle before we got down to business.

How can it feel so fresh every time after 20 years of scrogging, I ask you? I mean, really.

Peter sat with his back against the headboard and I leant up against him with that glorious pocket rocket in my right hand. The coconut oil is still my favourite for glide factor, and the buzzing is just so damn good. Lying there in Peter's arms, against his warm chest, I really began to thaw out. I could feel twin points of heat blooming on my cheeks, and my clit was swelling pretty seriously in response to the vibe. Michael Buble was crooning in the background, followed by a hot song from The Thomas Crown Affair - some of my favourite sex music.

It felt like I had 3 or four mini orgasms before the big one hit, which was, of course, followed by several others once that hair trigger was activated. Yumm. Just fucking yummmm.

I slid down off of Peter, turning over to take him into my mouth, already hot and stiff. Unable to resist, I straddled him and rode him, moving my hips to get him on just the right spot inside of me. I was plenty hot now, and peeled off my tank top so he could stroke and grab my breasts and rub my nipples. I couldn't help the juices that started flowing then, but I didn't want to anyway. I don't know how many times I came. I can never keep track when there are so many. I switched back and forth between teasing little bobs that brushed my G-spot against his ridge, and hard, downward slams that drove him deep up into me. Fuck.

When I had finally spent myself (if that's the right term for a chick) he flipped me over. It's good that I'm flexible, because he lifted my legs, and folded me in half so that my knees were at my ears and my ankles up over my head. What an angle. As he drove into me, I came again. And again.

It never gets old. It's always fucking wonderful.

Back in the Saddle Again

Yummy!

Peter got home tonight and we celebrated in full Randi/Peter style. It's a little cool here these nights (blissfully so - but I'm very hot-blooded and easily chilled) so Peter warmed me up a little with the full naked body press. Somehow this became the full naked body neck-nuzzling tit-sucking press, and progressed downward to the tummy-trail-nuzzle and the clit-lick.

I thought it might be appropriate to start with an orgasm for each day Peter had been gone, but after those 4, I just didn't feel like stopping. It's a testament of how dehydrated I am that I didn't squirt when I felt what is always accompanied by squirting. It's a testament to Peter's skill, when I later managed to produce squirts anyway.

OK, so every now and then I wax instructional, and this is one of those times. I discovered today the titillation factor involved when someone else tells you you're hot, that they were checking you out, etc. Seriously. I mean, Peter says this, too, and I believe he's sincere, but it's possible, is it not, that he's the only one who is attracted to my quirky self. I mean, it's not like I've ever been hit up for a phone # or anything. Well, by someone I didn't know. ^_^

I know some of this could be a product of my lucking out as massively as I have and meeting Peter before I was really "on the scene" so to speak. Maybe having multiple dates, boyfriends (and rejections) would have endowed me with more self-confidence in this area. Or maybe not.

What I do know, is that finding out that someone thinks you're hot is a massive turn-on.

So, back to the sex. Peter did plenty of expert licking while I basked and soaked it up. I know I got very, VERY creamy. Finally it was buzzer time, and OMG, there is just something about that thing. It never gets old. Never. So, yeah, after the first 4 orgasms, there were more, because why not? And then we moved to the Sky Chair, which is just divine.

I licked and sucked Peter's delicious cock for a bit, but not too much, since it had been four days for him as well (as far as I know ^_^ ) and then I had to have him inside me. I buzzed my clit with Peter inside me and came several more times. I felt a little selfish, but Peter was having fun, too, so I had a few more.

After I switched off the buzzer, Peter let me dicktate the pace. I held onto his hips and moved myself back and forth on his cock, so that his heavenly ridge rubbed me in just the right place. And then the juices started flowing. More orgasms. I don't really know how many, and then Peter was leaning in and kissing me and thrusting hard, hard, harder. Another orgasm as Peter came inside of me, and even more when he withdrew and slid his cock around on my clit, entered me again, and rubbed me yet again.

Yes, it was a religious experience.

Holy fuck.

Testing

Because Blogger is fucking with me again.