Proverbial Truth

There's a saying I love that goes like this:
Happiness is not having what you want...but wanting what you have.

But what if what you have doesn't want you? What if I want more? What if I need more? What if it ultimately comes down to being wanted? I was such a good girl for so long, settling for what I got because it's all a trade off in the end and you have to take some bad to get mostly good.

But I was lured....reminded of what it feels like to be wanted...jolted by that rush that comes from pure desire....desire on someone else's part to have you...no matter what the costs. And all of the consequences, and all of the players, and all of the risks diminish to nothing in the face of pure desire.

He didn't have to ask me twice.

I went to him and he devoured me. Him so full of pent up lust...and me, so desire-starved. Our needs meshing perfectly, filling in the gaps of our everyday lives. Stolen moments that set us right again. I lie back willingly for him and let him do all those naughty things that he's always wanted to do but was afraid to ask for. I feed his beast. And I am repaid with the way he looks at me in awe as if he can't believe his good luck. Satisfied to overflowing with the way he moves, speaks, and takes me like he just can't wait one more second to have me.

It works. And there's another saying I love that goes something like this:
Don't fix what ain't broke.

I'm A Woman Man: Episode 3 - The Stomach

There are many body parts that are quietly, sneakingly sexy. The stomach is one of them. Whether you have a stomach, belly, gut, rolls, whatever you want to call it, it can be a sexy attribute. Now of course you don't have to own the ripped six pack abs of say...Janet Jackson, you don't need that. Just know how to accentuate what you have. With the miriad positions we'll try, all the bending over, bending backwards and gyrating you'll have a great ab workout anyway. Not to mention the multiple muscle contractions from your orgasms.

The stomach is the direct kissing route to Shangri-La. A place I've been guilty of lingering time and time again. I must admit I like a flat-ish tummy, but I've savored the plump-ish, stretch mark-ish, had a baby-ish, tattoo around the navel-ish, belly button ring-ish, other women hate that you just ate a half dozen donuts but still have a a four pack-ish, got some extra jiggle in the middle-ish , with the same giddy attitude.

I like to place soft kisses on you there. Light to heavier tongue flicks, lingering around the navel then diving lower.... My hands caress you there while my lips purse against it.

"Ooooh I can feel it here" you moan holding just around your navel as I slide deeper inside there. I watch your belly with a smile as I try (knowing it's impossible) to see my manhood protruding deep within.

When the sweat peppers your stomach during hot sultry sex, I watch with intent, wanting to lick it away... When your muscles contract then quickly your stomach rises and falls like crashing waves as you orgasm...When you moan out 'Cum right here, daddy!' then squeal with delight as my essence scatters across you there, pooling in your belly button...When you dip the tip of your index finger in the man made lake and place a drop on your tongue with a smile, I know that your belly is a sexy place to be.

My name is The Fury and I'm a human ab-ciser.

Severe Eye Strain

I don't have much to add this week, except these 3 thoughts:

1. Do you have any idea how many butts I've admired in airports lately. I must say, I find the dockers that the flight attendants wear to be very flattering. Yes, I'll listen to the safety announcements.

2. Hooters has to be the best remote office I've worked out of lately. Thank the tech wizards of the world for wireless internet. Those girls work very hard, as did my roving eyeballs. It was an amazing variety of butts, all awesome.

3. It's really no fair that there is a strip club a block from the rental car dropoff when you have a few hours to kill before a flight. It's way too much temptation. But I did meet a very pleasant - and drop dead gorgeous young lady named "Chanel". Lovely onstage. Exquisite in the VIP. My eyeballs were not the only thing that ached.

It's going to be a long plane ride home, is all I'm saying.

I'm A Woman Man: Episode 2 - Faces

What is invariably true about me is that I am a sucker for a pretty face. There are more than many occasions wherein I've gone well above and beyond my power, tax bracket and level of influence for a pretty face. Now we already know that I'm a sucker for lips (no pun intended). I could easily write some shwarmy "the eyes are the windows of the soul" shit, but I won't bore you. Surely you can tell a lot through the eyes. Hell, I've received more sex from the proper eye contact than any other sign (smoke, neon or other) in existence.

However, faces are a true weakness of mine. Save maybe one or two, the one thing that the women I've bed have in common are pretty faces. They're not all classically beautiful or drop dead gorgeous, but definitely pleasant. And why wouldn't you want a pleasant face in bed? The faces we make in bed are ugly enough. And here is where it becomes interesting. The prettiest faces make some of the most intense passionate expressions. It thrills me to see the bottom lip biting, furrowed brow on a pretty face when I first slide my manhood deep inside her. There's nothing like a well executed "O Face".

An intense orgasm face is superb for the ego as well. When I'm deep into pleasing a woman with my mouth, I like to look up and see the ecstasy written across her face. The sweaty brow, the pursed lips and expanding nostrils. My intuition can read what spots I'm hitting deep inside her from facial expressions. A slight eyebrow arch? That's the "Is he really gonna have more for me? look" The deep furrowed brow? That's the "Shit it hurts but feels too fucking good to stop" look. The eyes rolling in the back of the head? That's the "Am I gonna cum again? I think I'm gonna collapse" look. Of course I could be wrong. Ladies, correct me if I am.

The thing I like about faces are that they are very deceptive. In my experience, some of the most evil worn faces have requested the most sensitive caring gestures. Slow kisses, light licks, easy strokes. While some of the most angelic, innocent faces have made the more aberrant requests. I've cum on the angelic faces with pleas from their angelic mouths for more. The angelic faces have asked me to fuck their ass. The angelic faces with their angelic eyes have sent the message that if we were alone in a darkened room, that face would wanna get fucked by my dick to near choking. The pretty unassuming faces have whispered "I want you to fuck the shit outta me." While the devilish faces have pleaded "Oohhh baby take it easy, I can't take too much."

I'm a sucker for a nice face. Whilst the eyes are the window to the soul, the face is the brick and mortar hiding all the dirty things the soul keeps hidden in the basement.

My name is The Fury, I give good face.

The Name Game

Whore
Slut
Beautiful
Bitch
Lover
Sexy
Tease
Mine

Perhaps these should have quote marks around them....

Watch

...I'll stand before you in my heels and tight skirt...a professional girl with naughty needs...I'll untuck my blouse from my skirt...then slowly undo one button at a time reavealing my sheer black bra...watch as with one hand I reach up and pull out a nipple and twist it between my fingers...my eyes never leave yours as I hike up my skirt and and reach between my legs....do you like what you see? Do you want to see more?

Good because I will give you more...and I like when you watch...I'll undo the zipper on my skirt and let it fall to the floor...these garters are for you lover and they are crotchless for a reason...so I can leave them on while you fuck me...but I'm not ready for you to fuck me yet...I'll slide my hands inside the satin straps and run them down my thighs...I am going to lean back against the wall and slowly reach my fingers into my pussy...first one finger and then two will slide inside of my wetness...it feels so good.

I won't take my eyes off of yours as I pull my fingers out and up to my mouth so I can lick off my sweetness...slowly sucking on each finger before reaching back down to fuck myself...my head will fall back and my hips will thrust out as I continue to finger myself...my other hand clawing my thigh...nails digging in because it feels so fucking good....

Tick, Tock

I didn't talk to you today. And it's left me anxious and on edge. I don't need to talk to you every day, I really don't want to talk to you every day. We don't owe each other the connection, and I more than anyone appreciate the hunger that builds when it's missed. I remind myself that the small talk makes me uncomfortable, the snuggling makes me want to bolt, and that the day to day is none of my business. So I concentrate on the physical. The need for you to just fuck me. The desire to feel your fingers in my mouth as you pound into my cunt. The ache to hear you whisper "you're my whore" into my ear. The feel of your fingers digging into my hips as we cum.

But I would have settled to hear your voice.

I'm A Woman Man: Episode 1- Breasts and Lips

People in my real world life often guess what kind of man I am. As in the "breast man", "leg man", "butt man" guidelines. When posed with this question of "what kind of man are you?" I always respond "I'm a woman man." I lust every inch of the female form. Not to say that women are just interchangeable parts, not at all. Hence my reluctance to choose just one. Here's the first in a series about what I love about the female form...

I like great lips. Plump, small, wide, long great lips. I've come in contact with my share of great DSLs (Dick Sucking Lips). Some of the lips were better than the skills of the woman sucking said dick. As if their fabulous lips were good enough to make the suction, energy and technique good enough. Sorry sweetie just because you have a fast engine doesn't mean you can run the Daytona Speedway.

However if the lips are great and the skills are comparable (or better) the visuals alone have brought a shiver to my spine. I appreciate when a woman knows she is not only giving oral sex, but PERFORMING oral sex. Yes you can look up at me while you're giving me a fabulous sucking with lust in your eyes and lick your lips. Hell, go ahead and rub my fattened manhood across your lips like your brand new lip gloss. I've always found that "lip gloss is poppin" song to be borderline sexual. it is but it isn't, "like a foot massage" as Samuel L Jackson said in Pulp Fiction. The performance isn't lost on me. Even if my eyes are closed and I'm concentrating wholly on the sensations. Lips are great. They can say the nicest things, the dirtiest things, the sweetest things, the meanest things sometimes all in one tirade. "You're so sexy with your cute smile I wanna suck the cum outta your dick and spit it in that bitch's face." That was verbatim!

I had to use the pic above for this post because 1) it's one of the sexiest pics I've ever seen 2) It mixes 2 of my favorite preoccupations lips and nipples together and 3) for a woman to suck her own nipple not only takes a certain endowment but also skill and a sense of performance (because of course a man wanted to see this).

A great nipple is a hard nipple. It's that simple. I know women with big nipples that wish they had smaller ones, women with small ones who want bigger ones and women with medium sized ones want the other two. I am a fan of the chilly office sudden nipple perk. The slightly aroused nipple protrude and the straight on just got sucked raging throbbing nipple. Pair great nipples with a pretty areola and a nice set of breasts and my attention is focused. I've dated and fucked the gamut of tit/nipple/areola size and never once have I been disappointed with hard nipples. Thanks to the strip club I've seen way more than my fair share of breasts. I've never actually been with a woman with fake ones. However, someone I've sexed in the past has implants now and I am absolutely intrigued and would LOVE to see them now.

I've sucked, licked, nibbled, bit, grabbed and fucked tits. The largest tits belonged to Jessie who when she slid my raging dick between her humongous breasts I was more impressed I could actually still see my dick than that she was about to initiate me into titty fuck history. The smallest belonged to Caramel who carried more puffy areola than actual breasts, but the tone of the skin and her reaction to me butterfly flicking her to juicy wetness made them well worth the experience. I've seen some bare breasts I wasn't supposed to, including some that belong to the famous, strangers, and friends. Why is that of note? Because I like them. And most of all I like looking and imaging them in my mouth or in yours sweetheart, if you wanna show me. LOL

My name is The Fury kiss me then show me your tits.

Travel Rant

At the Gate
Originally uploaded by Semi-Celibate Man

I'm travelled out. The glamour has long ago worn off.

I'm good at it, mind you. I've done it enough - at least 3 out of 5 business days in 2007 so far. Lately, I'm on at least one airplane every day going to cities all over the map. I've become a logistical expert as a result. I can work my way in and out of any airport in the country with maximum efficiency, navigate the check-in process at most rental car agencies, and change hotel reservations while changing lanes during one of the thousands of Interstate highway miles I've racked up.

People, I have a favorite parking space at the airport parking garage for God's sake! Is that a bad sign?

And it goes without saying that I have a favorite seat on any Boeing 737 aircraft. Plus a strategy for getting an optimum seat if my favorite is taken on Southwest Airlines.

If you're a business traveller, you know what I mean. You develop habits. Strategies. Coping mechanisms. They help you get efficiently through a day that includes appointments starting early in the morning, dropping off rental car and catching the shuttle to the terminal, catching flights with layovers and connections, picking up a new car on the other end, and falling into a hotel at the next town at 11pm or later - ready to do it all again tomorrow. And the day after that. What town am I in again?

(Sidenote: Do you know how many rental cars I get in and out of in the course of a month? Do you know how much time in my life I've used up adjusting side mirrors and trying to figure out where the cruise control is and what radio station I can stand listening to? A lot, that's how much.)

One of those coping strategies, and you'll know what I mean my fellow frequent flyers, is keeping a wary eye on - and working around - the "sheep". The sheep being you casual flyers wandering around any given airport terminal lost and confused and befuddled by the array of procedures and concourses. Baaaaa. You're cute. You're endearing. You remind us of an long-gone innocence lost many flights ago. But here's the rub. You're seriously in our way. And on my fourth 19 hour day in a row I'm losing patience with you.

Let me just take a moment to rant at a few of you sheep:

Yeah, I'm starting with you blondie. Yes you're cute, adorable in fact in your sundress. Yes, you're perky and I'm naturally attracted to you. But no, perky or not, you're not getting that 8 oz tube of hair conditioner through the X-Ray machine. Or that Dasani water bottle. Did you not pay attention to the two screeners you already passed that were loudly droning "NO LIQUIDS OR GELS PAST THIS POINT"? No, you didn't and now you are seriously slowing me down in my quest to get to the gate.

All of you this summer, WTF are you doing wearing sandals with no socks to the airport? Yes, when they say "all shoes through the scanner", that includes sandals. Do I really have to look at all of you walking around security barefoot? It's nasty. Would it kill you to wear real shoes on the plane and take the sandals out of your luggage and put them on at your destination.

And, is there a contest going on to see how little clothes you can wear on an airplane? Or, is there a sudden sports emergency that requires men to go directly from the plane to the gym floor? Is that why you're wearing baseketball shorts and ratty tennis shoes? You wouldn't want to have to change in a locker room or anything. Hey, thanks for dressing up you dumbass jocks.

What really irks me, I guess, about you casual travelling sheep is the high percentage of you that have no concept of the fact that you are in public. That your behavior on an airplane affects a couple of hundred other people who are trapped in this aluminum tube hurtling through the air. So many of your are isolated in your I-podding blue-toothing little self contained universe that you have lost any sense of public ettiquette that keeps us civilized. For example:

DO NOT take off your aforementioned sandals and wave your bare naked tootsies around. Again, it's nasty. Keep them off the seat back in front of you.

DO NOT recline your seat. Yes, I know it reclines and that you paid for the seat. But think about this for just a minute. You know how little space you have in front of you. Why do you think that there is endless space behind you for you to recline into? When you do you're seriously invading my personal space. Plus, I can't open my laptop fully to work on the plane with your seat angled into my face. Please, I'm begging you - have some sense of regard for the people around you because I swear to God if you recline your seat into my space I will make you pay for it.

DO NOT swear like a drunken sailor or a fifteen year old girl just because it's just the way you talk and you have so little facility with the English language without it. That includes you two drunken frat boys who sat behind me and loudly included the word MOUTHERFUCKER in every other sentence. It's not cute, motherfuckers.

DO NOT take an hour in the lavatory. Do you know how little actual time there is that the pilot has the seatbelt sign off and the flight attendants are not blocking the aisle? Precious little, and there is a line of people waiting.

Especially DO NOT, whip out your cell phone - you damn phone addicts - the second the wheels hit the runway and announce to your callee and everyone else on the plane that you've "just arrived" in whatever godforsaken city we've just landed in. Did you not tell the person that's picking you up that your plane arrives at 7:35pm? Well guess what - it's 7:35. Does this warrant a special announcement within earshot of everyone else who somehow heroically refrained from phoning their loved ones? No, it does not. You're not special. Hang up the damn phone and meet your party at "arrivals" like everyone else.

I could go on with endless examples. You get the point. I've gotten disillusioned with the low state of civility because of the excessive time I've spent in airports and onboard the aircraft.

Bottom line: pull your head out of your ass, people. Whether you know it or not, you are part of a temporary, mobile, low-fare tribe. A mini-civilization. So be civil already. Have some manners. Dress like you care that you are in public, not in a locker room. Speak like you know other people are listening. Get your head out of your I-pod playlist and pay attention in the security line so that you don't hold up other people. Is all of that too much to ask?

The only thing that keeps me sane, besides of course my job, is my travelling companion. My little digital point-and-shoot. All photos in this post were taken by me on one of my recent endless days of travel. (Copyright 2007 Semi-Celibate Man. Be civil and don't take 'em and use them without permission.)

See you in the airport, business travellers and sheep alike. Baaaaa.

Share, Share, It's Always Fair

I know what you want. I know your fantasy. I know what turns you on the most. You want to fuck me, only you don't want to be the only one doing it. It's enough for you to imagine it happening, closing your eyes and picturing it behind those closed lids. It's even enough telling me, as you slide your cock into me, how it would be. But what you really want, what would really turn you on, is having it actually happen. You want his cock in my mouth while yours is in my cunt. You want to watch as he fucks me. You want me on all fours, while you whisper in my ear that I will enjoy this. Who will be turned on more? You sharing me, or me being shared?

Need

You want me
You can't help yourself
You think of me all the time
When you are at work
When you are alone
When you are with others
Imagining me there for you
Imagining what you would do to me
Imagining how I would swallow while looking in your eyes
I make you have to touch yourself
I make you do naughty things in places you shouldn't
I make your cock hard
I know just what to whisper in your ear
I know just what turns you on
I know just how to touch you
You like that I lie back so easily for you
You like that I will let you be you
You like that I like it
I am your dirty little secret
I am your whore
I am your desire
I make you say those filthy words
I make you think those nasty thoughts
I make you want me

I love it

Two For The Price of One

With this look of awe on your face you call me beautiful...with the same mouth that whispers "you're my whore". You bite my nipple hard and cause me to pull back in pain...and then lick and gently suck them. You choke me on your cock, my head shoved against the wall, my hands on your thighs pushing back, mascara running...and hold my face as you kiss me so softly on the mouth I could cry. You force me onto my knees so you can fuck me from behind...but allow me to straddle atop you and pin your hands over your head and use you. You beg for me...before slapping my ass hard enough to leave your print. You wrap your hands in my hair, your very own reins...but allow it to fall and tickle us both. You fuck me...and make love to me. You are lover...and friend.

7 Semi-Serious Things About SCM

Independance Day
Originally uploaded by Semi-Celibate Man

Bunny called it right when she said it would be a while before I got around to making a list that she tagged me with - "7 random things" about me. I didn't forget, just have stayed busy on my semi-hiatus.

Since I've already done a "6 weird things" list, weird and random being almost the same thing, and since I'm in a serious mood lately - I'm going to take license to twist it a little bit and list, at random:

7 Semi-Serious things about the Semi-Celibate Man:

1. I love photography. You have no idea how much I do. It is my chief outlet and passion. I see the world photographically. I "see" pictures everywhere in daily life, and am captivated by the thrill of taking an interesting well composed picture. Alas, as Harry Chapin's Mr. Tanner wistfully observed, photography "is my life, it is not my livelihood". In other words, it would be nice to get paid for it. But that's not why I do it. Enjoy this little pic that I took on a wonderful evening with my family watching the local fireworks display on the 4th of July.

Okay, many of you already knew that about me, so here is a bonus:

1a. I love both religion and science. I'm relatively well read on both, for a layman. I can hold my own in a debate on either topic. Bottom line: I appreciate both faith and reason and don't hold it necessary for them to conflict.

2. I have a better life than I ever thought I would as a child. Really. I came from such deep poverty that I literally had no expectations of any level of a fulfilling life. So many of the simple normal things that are part of most people's llives (having a family, owning a home, traveling) are way beyond what I thought I would have. As a result, I almost always feel blessed and almost never feel worried, or fretful, or depressed. (Okay, the kid's behavior gets to me but that's not what I mean.)

3. I have no friends. Literally. I have family. I have coworkers. I have acquaintances at church. I do not have one single male friend that I ever call up and go out to play golf with or hang out with. I live an internal life, and it translates as a friendless life. And I'm generally okay with that.

4. I will let you down. Said differently, for some reason unknown to me I seem to inspire a level of confidence in people that is more than is warranted. That confidence results in expectations. Expectations that I can't live up to in the long run. And eventually, inevitably, I will let you down. I try. I do the best that I can. But, I'm just me. I'm a flawed person. I fuck up now and then. I know that, and I don't spend much time worrying about that or apologizing for it. If you're disappointed in me, the only thing I know to do is to lower your expectations.

5. I'm an exceptionally good lover. I can't prove that. And I haven't had enough partners in my life to have demonstrated it beyond a doubt. But, I'm confident that I am a good lover. I'm aware. I'm studied. I'm focused on your pleasure. I've had enough orgasms in my life that I'm not in a rush to get there.

We won't even get into the incongruity of being good at sex and being semi-celibate! Moving on....

Of course, I could be wrong about this. Maybe I'm just well tuned to one partner, but not necessarily as good as I think I would be with someone else. I guess I would need someone else to test this with.....Hmmm.....

6. I'm am the epitome of the "out-of-the-box" guy. Way out of the box. It just seems to me (and is often pointed out to me!) that I don't think like everyone else around me. Sometimes that's helpful, in the creative things that I enjoy or in generating ideas at work. More often it's trouble. Out-of-the-box also means being completely out-of-sync with everyone else! It's lonely out of the box. (See #3)

7. I take a lot of risks. I don't think they are risks, obviously or I wouldn't take them. But outside observers would probably judge them as risks. Okay, having an anonymous sex blog is one good risky example. But I mean more than that. I've been in a lot of situations in my life where I've had this particular thought: "If I died right now, no one would know where I was or even find me." That's risk.

That's my list. You now know 7 more things about SCM than you did yesterday. Thanks for tagging me, Bunny.

A Heart Stopper

Uh-oh. Make that a heart-stopping uh-oh.

My laptop, to make a long story short, completely froze up on me mid-week. Tango Uniform. Seemingly unrecoverable - and I'm pretty good at that sort of computer innards stuff. I was staring at the end of my laptop. A black screen of death, with a spiraling safe-mode loop that seemed final.

Uh-oh.

Do you know how much business stuff I keep on there, even though it's my personal computer? Plus, a myriad of prized personal travel pictures?

Can you guess how little of it I have backed up? Uh-oh. Major panic.

I was at the point of having to take it in to professionals for help in recovering my operating system.

Uh-oh. Do you have any concept of how much porn I have on this computer - all legal of course? No, you don't. You do have a guess at how much homemade porn I have, given the nekkid pics of me that I've linked to. Although you haven't seen the extensive collection of raw photo sets that produced the few good shots that I've posted. Uh-oh. What would a technician think upon finding those?

Fortunately, I found two recovery CDs in the original materials that came with my laptop. The first one did nothing. The second one pulled off a miracle, and fully restored me.

One hour later, I had everything dumped onto a 160 Gb external drive.

Whew! Dodged a bullet there! :)

Anticipation

Will you walk in and lock the office door behind you? Will you force me down into my chair as you unbutton your jeans and feed me your cock? Will you run your hands thru my hair as I take your cock down my throat? When you've had enough will you pull me up and bend me over the desk, raise my skirt and yank down my panties? Will you kneel down to lick my sweet shaved pussy and tease me with your tongue? Will you then stand and shove your thick cock deep into my aching cunt? Will you make me gasp and groan as I cum? Will you call me your whore and curse me for making you this way? Will you?

Alone Time in The State of Fierce

"my mind was in a frenzy in a horny state" - A Tribe Called Quest

It was unfair how she snuck up on me. I sat alone in my chair letting my mind wander. The chocolate nude figures that peppered my screen had given me inspiration for another tale. Writing them nearly always drives me to a state of fierce arousal. Some nights I can drive back, saunter home and fall asleep. Other nights I stay and relish in the alone time that the state of Fierce allows me. This night, I was on my way back quickly and assuredly ready for bed when the image I mistakenly clicked reminded me of her. I closed it. Whoa, that was close.

"Too close?" Her smokey voice whispered in my left ear perched just outside my earlobe.

"Yes" I responded and shook her off. She evaporated into thin air only to return in my right ear.

"It's ok. I don't mind. We're cool, right? I like watching it, you know that. Don't you?"

This wasn't right. Well it was, but not. It is, but isn't. Damn I was enjoying her images in my head. Her chocolate skin. The mocha nipples I had only seen in my mind's eye pressing closer to me. I looked over and tongued each slowly then faster. Flicked her nipples as they stood in ovation. My hands took both breasts as my head bobbed between them sucking them...sometimes just hard enough to illicit a slight whence.

"You know...maybe..." I balked.

"We're cool right? It's ok. Go ahead, Fury. Feel me." She hummed in my ear then kissed it. Her hand replaced my hand...down there. "Mmmm, ok." She confirmed something in her head as her hand slowly stroked. The similar looking her on my screen stared me in the face. The ethereal her relaxed me with each stroke of her slender fist. This was unfair.

"Just go ahead and imagine." Visuals collided.. Her on her knees in front of me, her pretty little mouth parting slowly, licking her lips. Her hand releasing me from my satin basketball shorts. Her eyes raise toward mine, she cocks an eyebrow, a smirk then licks the head slowly. It's performance art. The visuals heighten the arousal. She takes in some, gives a full oral stroke, looks up again.

"Don't worry, I'm not offended" Her mind told me as she inhaled me deeply and feverishly. "Anything else?" Her mind spoke.

In a flash, she was laying on her back my face buried deep between her strong legs. My hands slid around her round plump ass. I held her tight to my face while a mysterious third hand stroked me harder. Her flavors sweet and heavily aroused mixed with my watery tongue. Her lips parted and let juices flow. I tasted...then looked to her on my screen. Her position hadn't changed, eyes staring, ass bare, nipples hard. Her voice floated to me from her ethereal self.

"Don't worry we're still cool. Mmmm very cool." Her smile spread as she threw her head backwards and a moan, the only one I could imagine, escaped her lips. I grabbed her ankle, removed my mouth from her sex, threw her leg over the other, flipping her to her belly.

My hands grasped at her waistline. My eyes glued to the round brown ass I had imagined once or twice, but never this detailed. I forced her on all fours.

"Finally you remembered! You know what it is." She laughed.

I slapped her backside softly at first fearing this would break the contract. Her moan signaled the terms were held. I slapped harder, pulled her by the back of the neck and slid deep inside, to the hilt. Her wetness, her tightness replaced my hand which had been keeping my arousal. I plunged deeper, harder. Her low moans grew.

"Sorry, I hope you understand." I whispered, but with a sideways snarl of the lips...with some sarcasm.

"Oh I understand." She grunted in a staccato smoke filled voice. "But you're the pleaser right?" She smiled over her left shoulder her sweaty brow cocked.

A burst of light danced and she was on top of me. Me on my knees, she straddled across my lap still deep inside her. The slow kisses were friendly ones I had known (on the cheek). But below we were ramming into each other like a southern car derby. Her moans echoed in my ears. Her brown nipples bounced against me. I pulled her hair back forcing her to arch, sucking those nipples. Licking and fondling them with my tongue as I pounded deeper still. Her orgasm shot waves of her essence down my shaft as it puckered against me. She moaned in my ear, dirty, naughty things as she came down.

Feeling me just centimeters from the end, she stroked me harder and faster until small lights burst in my skull. She kissed my forehead.

"It's ok, babe. We're still cool." Her ethereal self dissipated faster than she had arrived.

I sat on my knees alone, panting, my hand still full... thinking this was unfair. I had taken liberties and advantages with her visuals, her images. I hope she would forgive me if her ethereal self flew back and told her real self.

My name is The Fury and I'm on my way back from the state of Fierce driving down route 666.

7 Random for Z (MeMe)

Thanks to Z, I've been tagged. In case you don't know, being "tagged" is like getting a blog chain letter, but not as annoying. So my job is to reveal 7 random facts about myself to you strangers that are reading. Hmmmm....here goes:

1) I have a good friend that is a colleague of a sex blogger/blogger that has visited my site. This was revealed to me in a strange chain of events as well as use of my own Sherlockian intuition. I've never revealed the connection to said blogger (not that we speak) because well that would open up even more cans of worms. We all prefer our anonymity. I can tell you that said blogger fucks up a lot at work and gets away with it.

2) According to my former doctor, I have the dimensions (shoulders, arm length, shoe size, etc) of a man 6 feet tall, but am just touching 5'10" in height.

3) I like my tea with 5 sugars.

4) I can sing my elementary school song word for word.

5) If my given name were the final puzzle on Wheel Fortune. You wouldn't need any extra letters after they gave you those 3000 freebies they give you.

6) I woke up not feeling well and slightly drowsy from taking Nyquil so I decided not to go into the office early as planned. My office was in The World Trade Center. The date was September 11th 2001. Thank God everyone else on my floor got out fine.

7) I'm still not totally sure how to use the damn % button on a calculator. I do the calculation in long form.

Now I'm probably the last person in the blogosphere not to get this, but I'll reach out and tag just one...umm... Ella. I'm sure she has some good random for us.

Sugasm #85 the year Back To The Future rocked.

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