I turned 28 sometimes last week (yup, I'm a Scorpio. Seriously). It got me thinking about sexual experience...
I got deflowered a couple of weeks before my 14th birthday. Nothing special or particularly memorable: nor even remotely hot about my first time.
So, all things considered, I have been sexually active for at least 14 years now... it's a bit scary when you think of how often my pussy got stretched by big large cocks... Or how many said cocks fucked my ass and my mouth since.
I stopped counting after 30 lovers. I'm confortable with the slut label: I just don't think it need to be more specific than that.
I'm home alone tonight and quite bored. Make me almost wish I had a lover or two on the side to have fun while my man is gone.
it's not that i think about sex all the time... but it's the easiest explanation i could find... philosophicalslut@hotmail.com
Monday, 24 November 2008
Tuesday, 18 November 2008
Sticky buns and dirty panties.
It was a couple of nights ago. We were in bed. He was horny, I was too tired to even endure being fucked. I told him, while pulling down my panties and facing away from him, to just masturbate and cum on my ass. It didn't took him a minute to let his sticky ooze slide down on my behind. I pulled up my panties and snuggled up to him, saying how I like to be used.
Thursday, 6 November 2008
Girl next door sex.
It occured to me, while reading some messages sent to me on a swingers' website, that I'm not very fancy, sex wise.
I don't like dressing up. Heck I don't even like wearing skirts. High heels and nylons are utterly uncomfortable and I don't care for matching bras and panties (I tend to go all black anyway). I barely have time to do my hair in the morning and I couldn't be bothered to do them before going to bed either.
I do dress up nicely for a date, but no frills and probably not super sexy (asides from the killer cleavage I do put on display).
So fantasies about meeting a stranger in an hotel room, when the guy specify for 5 lines what he's picturing me to wear, how sexy the knee high boots would be on my goddess feet and how the smoothness of silk gets blend in the softness of my skin... heeeeellll no.
No my cup of tea. I would probably indulge, for a very special occasion. Heck, I don't even wear thongs all that much!
I don't like dressing up. Heck I don't even like wearing skirts. High heels and nylons are utterly uncomfortable and I don't care for matching bras and panties (I tend to go all black anyway). I barely have time to do my hair in the morning and I couldn't be bothered to do them before going to bed either.
I do dress up nicely for a date, but no frills and probably not super sexy (asides from the killer cleavage I do put on display).
So fantasies about meeting a stranger in an hotel room, when the guy specify for 5 lines what he's picturing me to wear, how sexy the knee high boots would be on my goddess feet and how the smoothness of silk gets blend in the softness of my skin... heeeeellll no.
No my cup of tea. I would probably indulge, for a very special occasion. Heck, I don't even wear thongs all that much!
Tuesday, 4 November 2008
Why I don't blog anymore...
... and other banalities.
Well, I never was a very good blogger anyway. I can never discipline myself to write at regular intervals or keep my readership interrested enough to come back for more and interact with me.
Am I closing? No. But I'll need a whole lot of motivation to get me going again.
Well, I never was a very good blogger anyway. I can never discipline myself to write at regular intervals or keep my readership interrested enough to come back for more and interact with me.
Am I closing? No. But I'll need a whole lot of motivation to get me going again.
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