Take me inside and let the honey slide...

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Glucose Challenge

It was the same as it always is: I opened the door, we kissed - his familiar sexy lips - his hands straying down inside the top of my underwear, his fingertips brushing against the ends of my pubic hair, that touch that always sends a frisson of excitement running through my body - but it never lasts long enough - he started finger-fucking me, then he undid his jeans so I could suck him and make him hard enough to fuck me, but he already was, he bent me over and ripped off my underwear. "God, you're so wet," he said as he thrust his cock into my pussy, fucking me like that for a while before pushing me back onto the sofa and mounting me, kissing me while he plunged his cock into me. I was distracted, every time I heard footsteps on the stairs outside I thought it might be Magic coming back to check on me, after the incident that morning, but somehow the fear - the thought that this might be the last time! - excited me further, only not so the Professor - perhaps my relatively subdued nature unsettled him, for he stopped and said, "I think you need to suck me some more," sitting back on the sofa while I got on my hands and knees and sucked, and his cock was just right for sucking, hard enough to turn me on, yet not too hard for me to feel it growing harder in my mouth as my lips closed around the base of it and I ran my tongue up and down the shaft and over the swollen head.

Then he got up to go to the bathroom, and I just sat there on the sofa for a while thinking about things, and then I followed him into the bedroom, where he found me waiting for him on the bed when he emerged. "That's it, get on all fours," he said, dragging me down to the edge of the bed as I wriggled into position, and then holding the back of my neck with his hand and fucking me 'til I came. Exhausted by the strength of my orgasm I collapsed onto my stomach, but he hadn't had enough of me yet, grabbing my ass and pulling it up towards him so he could fuck me more - harder - hitting my swollen, post-orgasmic G-spot with every thrust, 'til all my nerves seemed to ring with the intensity of it, and I clutched the pillows with both hands and buried my face into them to keep from screaming as I came so violently I could hardly bear it.

And then when he turned me around to fuck me more I was limp and unresisting, my pussy slack and wet against his cock as he thrust into me faster and faster, finally pulling back and grabbing my head to bring my mouth to his cock to receive his come. I did as he had instructed me the day before, sucking each long spurt gently, and then as they started to slow, sucking harder to get every last drop of his come into my mouth before I swallowed.

And then he showered and left. I don't think I spoke a single word the entire time.

In my heart, it was so real.

The thing about carrying on an affair with a married person is that not only will that married person never choose you over his/her marriage (this is common knowledge, I don't think anyone could be stupid enough to have any illusions about this), but in actual fact (and this may not be quite as clear), your whole affair is probably completely insignificant to the other person involved - a flash in the pan, easily forgotten like yesterday's news about someone being stoned to death in Iran. And really you can quite easily see why this would be - it's because the end of the affair changes nothing whatsoever in a married person's life. Whereas the end of a marriage... now that's a whole other story.

And this particularly holds true for men, because they're all homebodies at heart. It's a myth, in my opinion, that men are the ones more interested in sex. They're just less fussy about whom they do it with - but if you think about it, that's quite possibly because they're actually less interested in it. They value it less. Less than work and money and companionship and home-cooked meals and blah blah I can hardly stay awake long enough to finish the sentence.

Of course, they'll tell you all sorts of lies for as long as they actually are still interested, but I personally don't believe this should be held against them. Everyone over the age of, let's say, 20, ought to know that these are lies. Or not even lies as much as, let's say, fleeting truths. But what a downer it would be if everyone felt the need to put words to the unspoken asterisk at the end of all that heartfelt hyperbole. Mood-killerrrrrrr, as Cybersex would say.

And on top of it all, not only is love by its very nature fleeting and a love affair totally meaningless, there's also the fact that the very things you love about a person are inevitably the first things to disappear once you actually enter into a relationship with that person. For instance, one of the things which attracted me to the Professor initially was that he was so forthcoming. He told me everything. Now, talking to him is like talking to a (fire)wall. I programmed a bot at university which was more communicative than he is. Man, I know deaf-mutes that talk more than he does. Not really. I just wanted to be politically-incorrect there for a second. Actually, not really that either - I just wanted to point it out afterwards in a self-referential and bloggishly whimsical manner.

Of course I could replace the Professor in the beat of a heart - an aching, overworked heart. It's just a pity that good looks and personality seem so rarely to co-exist in a person. I know of only a couple of instances where they do. I mean, literally a couple. Of course, one of those is Magic, and yet his is a personality which most people, if not everyone, would find horribly abrasive. But then that's the thing about a personality, it can be quite an unsettling thing to discover in a person. One is so accustomed to its absence. Sort of like a shot of rum in one's Coke. It's a little shocking at first, especially if all you were expecting was a refreshing and sugary drink. But then after a while you get used to it and even start to find it quite enjoyable. Only that's generally not long before the point where you throw up all over the place and vow never to touch the stuff again.

Kind of like love, don't you think?

Pristeen

Oh man, I don't know what has happened to me, I have become a sex demon again.  I would've thought that by the third trimester this would be over.  I must have some sort of hormonal imbalance or something.  (I actually went once to get my testosterone level measured, thinking my sex drive could be the result of some abnormality - but no, everything was completely normal.)

After bragging about how I was by no means slipping once again into the underworld of pr0n addiction, I actually found myself with two separate videos playing, one on T.V. and one on the Internet, at the same time.  Though this time it was a slightly more legitimate activity as I was supposedly watching in conjunction with Magic.  I say "supposedly" because in fact watching pron with a man is a distinctly one-sided experience.  By that I mean that it is generally the man doing all the watching while I spend the entire pr0n sucking cock and not getting to watch anything.  (Though in this case that was no great loss as the film in question revolved around a series of medical experiments gone horribly wrong, with the blonde bimbo doctor forced to fellate the victims to make up for her mistake - actually it sounds pretty hot the way I just told it, but take my word for it, it wasn't really that hot.)

What struck me about this incident, though, was the rather frightening realisation that I had been sucking the Professor's cock for so long that I had completely forgotten how to do it for Magic.  All I could remember was that he likes it an entirely different way, without being able to recall, of course, exactly what way.  See, this is why I have my doubts about all the online tips one can find on how to give great blowjobs - not everyone seems to like the same things.  So anyway, I just tried to make sure to check myself every time I found myself doing something which I remembered the Professor specifically saying he likes.  And then since Magic is a sex fiend like me, the two of us are always trying out new things on each other even after ten years of marriage, so I figured even if I made an unrecognised move it shouldn't sound too much alarm.

In fact, I was the one alarmed when at first it seemed that even Magic wasn't getting quite as hard as usual, but then I remembered that at a certain point in the course of a blowjob he inevitably needs to switch to the supine position, as that, for him, is the coming position (at least as far as oral sex concerned).  Yes, some people can actually come from oral sex.  Though I should think that for most people, like me, it should come as more of a surprise to know that some people can't - but indeed some can't.

It is my secret dream, though, to make the Professor come from oral sex.  Not that I actually believe I have any chance of making this happen.  Who am I to think that I might succeed where all others have failed?

Lessons on Sexiness

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Lunch

Everything was conspiring against me - the long black hair his wife had found wrapped around his cock the day before, the conference call I was supposed to have with the Zonglets at 1:30, and Magic's deathly cold which meant that I wasn't actually sure he had left for work that morning.  A few frantic text messages later I confirmed that he had, but was planning to return "in an hour or two".  Every extrasensory fibre in my body screamed at me to cancel... but the sensory fibres won out in the end and I didn't.

In fact I raced home so quickly that I got there with more than enough time to rip off my dress and high-heeled shoes and stand by the window anxiously awaiting him in a black lace camisole and thigh-highs.  Well, the moment I saw him walking across the courtyard I felt my wetness spring forth and no sooner had he entered the door than I attacked him, my lips glued to his as I unbuttoned his shirt and he fumbled to untie his shoelaces and undo his belt before finally presenting me with the swelling erection which I took into my mouth as deep as I possibly could.  I felt his cock hit the back of my throat as he pulled down one of my camisole straps to pluck out my right breast and rub the nipple in time to the strokes of my tongue on his cock.  I was so turned on I felt my thigh muscles stiffen and tighten and almost thought I might come then and there.  But at the same time I somehow began to fear that he wasn't as hard as he should have been, and so I sucked him deeper and harder but still couldn't shake this new and nagging paranoia that I might not turn him on as he does me.

Finally he said, "Enough of this - I want pussy" - normally he fingerfucks me a bit first, but even though this is his speciality, it suited me just fine to dispense with the preliminaries, for I could hardly wait as it was, bending over and spreading my ass cheeks with one hand so he could more easily slide his cock into my pussy.  He fucked me like this for a few minutes,  my excitement mounting to a crescendo, only to suddenly stop and hold back coyly, waiting for me to whimper and wriggle my ass back towards him in desperation, begging him to fuck me more.  Which he did, of course, 'til I cried out and my legs stiffened and trembled, and then he had me lie back on the sofa so he could mount me, my whole body tense and quivering.  I clutched him to me as he thrust his cock inside me, my pussy beginning to clench around it almost instantly as I came and came again, moaning into his mouth as he kissed me.

"I'm so close to coming," he said, pausing all of a sudden as if he really were on the brink, but I knew better than that, I knew it didn't even mean he would come at all that day.  And of course time was of the essence - Magic might be home any moment!  So I shoved my hips up against him, writhing around his cock and squeezing it with my pussy 'til he started to fuck me again, faster, while I tried to hold still and stifle my cries so he could concentrate on coming, squeezing his cock every now and then with my pussy to help him along the way.  "Oh but I want to come in your mouth," he said, pausing again, then suddenly he began to fuck me harder, so hard that my whole body jerked back and forth to the thrusts of his hips - gasping, powerless, I was like a rag doll impaled on his cock.  I felt the tension rising in me, I couldn't stop it, couldn't even think of his orgasm or the urgency of the situation any more, and then all of a sudden he drew back, his cock still deep within me, looking down at me as he climaxed inside me.

Forty minutes later I was sitting in my boss's office, helping to translate both ends of a conference call with the Zonglets as the come oozed from my pussy down the sides of my thighs and onto my chair.  Even my boss looked hot to me then...

They can have their diamonds and we'll have our pearls...

I'm depressed because I can't seduce a girl.