Stories


I appreciate that the arguments over taste, flavour and preference are almost entirely academic. What I may like, you may hate, and so on. In addition to making a mockery of the reality competitions involving advanced cheffery and food porn, this also applies to the world of attraction between two human beings. (I do not presume to exclude the sort of polyamorous relationship involving 3 or more, but for the purposes of this specific discussion  this is an irrelevant issue.)

However, since I’ve been around the block once or twice, and have the gravitas of my super-advanced age to back me up (no one has been able to convince me that I’m not heading the way of Methuselah ever since I passed the big four-oh), I’ve decided to give you the benefit of my experience and opinion. Image

Attraction is a funny thing. There are those who attribute all the highs and lows of emotion, feeling, sensation and sensuality to various chemical surpluses or imbalances. There are those who declaim proudly that true love is true love, and it manifests itself through attraction. (This, as a theory, is bollocks, but what can you do. People. Kfff.) Then there are those who realize that attraction is a subtle blend of the physical, the mental and that x-factor that causes one person to be as handsome as Paul Newman in his heyday, whereas another somewhat resembles the Notre Dame’s most infamous resident.

All of this taken into account, the truth is that the real attraction between two people, happens when they have something in common. It can be tangible — a love for basketball, perhaps. It can be ethereal — a love for fantastic boobs, or blonde hair. It can be the x-factor — an indescribable and untouchable reason that sends two people careening back into each others arms, even after political disagreements, or within the uncomfortable familiarity of an abusive relationship.

But what is so fundamentally important, is that if there is something there — something real, where two minds meet and connect — don’t throw it all away upon viewing a bad photo. Not all of us are as photogenic as <insert supermodel of your choice here>. All of us, however, when met in real life, have the potential to ensnare and bewitch another with the glinting sparkle in our eye.

It’s one thing to initially look at a picture and have no desire to communicate any further. But to establish a line of contact  and talk — non-stop — for two hours, only to abruptly rule out any further communication? That’s just fucking stupid.

Of course, the world is your oyster, and you are free to make the choices as your heart dictates. But you should know something. From the moment you disqualified me with your heartless “you’re not my type”, any attraction I had for you dissipated into thin air, like so much angel dust. Not because you weren’t attracted to me, because believe me, my ego is not so fragile as to be unable to withstand such a blow (!). Rather, because I could in no way be attracted to one who acts in a manner so shallow and pathetic. You implied that you were a mature, intellectually stimulating and intelligent human being — but you betrayed your true colors in one sentence. Not only was I no longer interested from that second on, but I feel as though I had the luckiest escape. As Beyonce so wisely (and beautifully) sings, “you turned out to be the best thing I never had.”

Suzanne Portnoy recently acquired a Kindle and rather fell in love with the format. She’s asked a few of her favorite sex bloggers to contribute to a new erotic magazine she edits, available on only by subscription on Kindle. I’m honored to be among the contributors, who include some really fine smutmongers. Here are the details:

SexBlogyssey is a Kindle-only compilation of the best erotic blogging, bringing together smart, smutty writing from both sides of the Atlantic. Our contributors write about real experiences and their real lives, with a little fantasy/fiction thrown into the mix. We regularly publish new material, drawing on both new writing and the archives of our contributing bloggers.

SexBlogyssey was created by Suzanne Portnoy, author of a popular but now-retired blog describing her double life as a middle-aged single mother and entertainment publicist with a lively swinging lifestyle on the side. Other contributors include Jefferson, Bad Influence Girl, Joanne Cake, Todger Talk, Kitty Stryker, Mon Mouth, Elegant Slut, among others.

You can purchase a subscription here.

(With apologies to Jefferson for completely pilfering his intro. It’s been a tough week. Thanks, dude.)

Fleshbotted, here.

Open the door. What do you see? Me. You see me.

Look at me. Go on, look.

See the glint in my eye? You know what that means.

See the curve of my hip, cocked, with my hand resting gently upon it.

As i stand. Waiting for you. Wordlessly inviting you.

Come on. Come to me.

Come and get me.

See the glimpse of my thigh, visible through the elegantly draped slit in my skirt. Imagine your hand running up it. Imagine your fingers trailing up it seductively… from my ankle, to behind my knee and then…

Onwards. Up my thigh, moving inwards, the skin growing warmer as you progress further.

I know you can see me.

I know you want me.

Take me. I’ve waited long enough.

Feel the softness of my lips against yours. Of my hand against your cheek. Of my breasts against your chest.

See how easily my blouse slips off my shoulders? Doesn’t my shoulder look inviting? A kiss, a nibble, a nip… a bite? No underwear… no markings… no problem.

Your hands and your mouth delight in the luscious fullness of my breasts; lush and golden with rosy-hued tips. You could drown in them… and die happy.

Stand behind me, you can do that without letting go. Keep one hand there, guarding your spoils. I won’t complain.

Use your other hand to explore further South… tickle that sensitive area around my navel… stroke the silkiness a little further below… and then you’ll find that silky soon becomes slick, plump and moist.

Don’t neglect the soft flesh into which your cock is pressing. Your naked cock. My accomodating ass. Your hard, throbbing cock. My warm, open ass.

You know what to do. You have free rein.

* * *

I’m losing the ability to instruct you.

Can’t… focus.

Ecstasy… taking over.

Mind… blurry….

oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god…

And there i am. With you.

A tableau of sensuality.

Flung over the back of the armchair, almost carelessly.

Abandoned and open to you.

Arms akimbo, clothes discarded.

You’ll take me every way you want me.

Every way you can.

Every way i want you to.

You know it’s what you want.

Fleshbotted again.

She felt him slide in and out of her, as he lay on top of her, holding him close to her.

“You like that?” he whispered lasciviously into her ear. “My cock is all the way inside your ass. Do you like it like that?”

She shivered with joy, and murmured a tiny “Yes…” into the pillow.

He hugged her tighter, and continued to slowly pump himself into her.

“That’s so good to hear, baby. You’re such a good girl.”

*******************

This entire anal sex episode had started some months earlier, on a theoretical level. The subject had come up in conversation, and nervously she had mentioned how she was scared of trying it again.

“I tried it once,” she typed him on an Instant Message application. “It hurt so badly, and only after a long time did it start feeling good. I tried once or twice since, but I couldn’t make it past the pain.”

There was dead air for an ominous and elongated minute and then she saw that he was typing a reply.

“Firstly,” he wrote, “you needn’t worry. The key is to relax. And you are under no obligation to do anything — if you’re not happy, it just won’t happen. You have to trust me – which I know you do. But i will not — would not — ever force you to endure anything that you have no desire to do. Know that, and relax.”

Reading those words did relax her. Immediately.

“Thank you,” she typed in, gratefully.

He continued.

“It is all about technique. And arousal. And trust. Don’t worry, baby, it will be fine.”

And then he had to go. Much relieved, and feeling unburdened, she breathed easily, and ceased worrying.

*******************

As they’d entered the room it had been how it always was with them. Drawn together as if magnetic, she’d reveled in his touch, so strong and sensual and familiar. The expression “melting into his arms” wafted through her head, and she dismissed it as too trite, but it still resonated. It was, after all, exactly how she felt.

The urge to control manifested itself almost immediately. As they kissed, he tugged at her hair and she weakened.

“Get naked, baby. Now. And hop onto the bed.”

She did as she was told.

“Good girl. Lie next to me.”

Again, she did as she was bid. She truly trusted him, which was why she’d allowed him to take control ever since their first meeting. He embraced her, and then shifted himself so that he was lying on top of her, as she lay on her stomach. His arms encircled her and she could feel their strength. He whispered to her, and she could feel his lips move against her ear, which excited her all the more.

“I’m going to fuck you so good. So. Damn. Good. Such a good girl you are, baby. And so wet and ready for me. ”

He slid himself inside her cunt from behind, and held himself there, impassive. She pushed herself back onto him, and he started to pump into her, slowly. Deliberately.

“That’s it, baby. Give me that pussy.”

The fingers of his left hand found their way into her mouth where she sucked, teased and licked them lovingly. Her hips were angled upwards, giving his right hand access to the entrance to her cunt, where his fingers stroked her slowly, bringing her to a thundering clitoral climax.

As she shuddered beneath him, she felt his right hand move from her cunt to the side of her body. Moments later, she felt a dribble of deliciously cold lube trickle between her cheeks, and his hand begin to play around her tight little anus. A finger slid in, and she gasped. Was she ready? She wasn’t sure.

“Relax, baby. I want you to relax your muscles. All of them. Will you do that for me?”

“I’ll try,” she mumbled into the pillow.

“What was that?”

He pulled her head up by the hair, to improve the acoustics. She repeated herself, only more coherently.

“Good girl. My good girl.”

She felt one finger slide inside her, and then two. His thumb massaged the anus, and she succumbed to the sensation.

Suddenly, sharp pain, and she yelped.

“Ow, fuck!”

“You’re not relaxed enough, baby,” the sensuous voice murmured. “Trust me. Yes?”

She nodded, and made a conscious effort to do just that. The massaging resumed, which felt great. Then she felt him slide into her, and absolutely no pain at all… only the mild discomfort that goes hand-in-hand with that great feeling of having one’s ass ploughed.

It was fabulous. His voice in her ear once more, delighting her.

“You like that? My cock is all the way inside your ass. Do you like it like that?”

Oh god, did she ever.

I was hoping to see that look in your eyes.

Not that there is anything to complain about the various ways in which you’ve looked at me so far.

You’ve looked at me with anticipation, that time when your toes touched innocently touched mine, and we sat, talking about anything and everything while our feet played footsie, and neither of us acknowledged the exchange of electrical current. Until, of course, you stood up, pulled me to my feet and kissed me until i thought I’d never breathe again .

You’ve looked at me with interest, when we spoke of the way in which i do my work, and i demonstrated for you how capable i am professionally. You liked my enthusiasm, my dedication, the fact that I know what I’m talking about — and you even looked at me admiringly because of it.

And, of course, you’ve looked at me with deep desire. Many times in the past. The first time over a warm and frothy drink that i — most unusually for me — had absolutely no interest in from the split second in which your eyes met mine, just before you took my hand and kissed my lips, lightly but with passion that conveyed quite how much desire lay behind your gaze.

And many times in the future, i most sincerely hope.

No, no, I’m not complaining. Not at all. It was just a hope… a wish. That as I walked in through the door the other day, that you’d give me that look.

Oh, you know the one.

That look that says you want me, right then, right there, bent double over the kitchen counter, clothes half-on, half-off, half-strewn over chairs and free-standing kitchen units, hands on bare raw flesh, fiery lips igniting equally , explosive raw passion setting our bodies alight as they touch, causing the familiar spontaneous combustion for this position but so much hotter and faster and furious than usual that i have no time for thought, no time to consider, just to respond with matching passion, and heat, and fury until we finally burn out and collapse exhausted into each other.

Yeah, that one.

It’s the voice.

The timbre, the resonance. The depth, the volume, the slight catch that betrays your hidden desire.

Or not so hidden, perhaps? I can’t see you right now, but if I could, my bet is that you’d have a boy scout troop tugging at your sleeve hopefully, while eyeing the crotch of your jeans.

(Yes, those really gorgeous, sexy, beat-up, old blue jeans that you like to wear. The ones that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Not too tight, not too loose, molding to your cute ass when you stood washing the wine glasses. And there was I, admiring the view and shivering internally at how i planned to run my hands over your ass at the earliest given opportunity.)

Either way, my ear presses hard against the phone, straining to catch every nuance, every sound. I love how deep and sexy your voice is as it rumbles into my ear. I love the way you smile as you say my name, and the shiver it sends down my spine.

Especially when you’re feeling calm and relaxed. The lazy way your honeyed tones flow out, saying my name, or merely whispering “Is that good, baby? You like that?” as you slide a finger in and out of me, deliberately and slowly.

Surrounded by stone clad jacuzzi walls, the echo caresses me. This time it’s all about you; your reaction to a foot massage. Clearly I’ve struck the right chord with you, as your sighs verge on the orgasmic. It must have been a hard couple of days, but now you’re relaxing your body, and the noises you are making reflect this.

But you know which vocal sound delights me the most. As I move my mouth up and down on you, my tongue lapping at you, my teeth tracing delicate and depraved patterns up and down your shaft, as my hand gently teases your balls. The joy and pleasure in your voice is the ultimate in sexy for me, when you moan and mumble incoherently. Then afterwards, when you kiss me tenderly, and move your mouth against my ear so that I can hear your sultry whisper as I feel your breath against my ear and neck, and all the hairs stand up all over my body with the rush of excitement that you cause me:

“Juno, oh my god… you do that even better than you write it.”

The following story is a contribution written by none other than Mr Henry himself. Enjoy.

Fleshbotted again.

Juno stood blindfolded with her arms mildly restrained behind her in soft rope and remained next to a mahogany-toned high back leather chair, wearing only high-heels and a wireless Swedish butterfly vibrator.

The arched French windows opened to provide an audacious view of Juno for astute members of the immediate neighborhood.

Standing no more than 25 feet away, I watched her squirm helplessly in front of her nude lover, enjoying her exquisite discomfort as I gently toyed with the remote control at irregular intervals. Wearing a grey suit, a blue shirt with button-down collar, and my well-worn Chelsea boots, I circled Juno, triggering the vibrator against her aroused clit, and catching her eye whenever I could.

The moods and objects throughout the room inevitably brought to mind that most resonant of adjectives: Lynchian – as in David Lynch. The spacious area was minimally lit, and propped against one wall was an Abstract Expressionist canvas.

I turned to her lover. “Dorian,” I said, “Would you like to stand close enough to Juno that she can feel your cock throbbing against her ass?”

He said nothing, but silently did just that.

She moaned. “This isn’t fair. At least untie my hands so I can stroke his gorgeous cock and fondle his balls.”

“Oh yes,” I said, “I know how much you would love to feel his dripping cock in your hand.”

I walked over to Dorian , and whispered discreetly in his ear. He knew exactly what I expected from him. I stepped away to watch, and disrobed as i did.

“Juno,” he said, standing directly against her rousing backside, and leaning into her. “I want my cock deep inside your pussy, fucking you, pumping you, stroking against your hot excited clit.”

Juno trembled visibly.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she said. “Please, please untie my hands. Please take off my blindfold.”

Ignoring her, Dorian turned Juno around gently and caressed her large breasts. He squeezed her pale-chocolate nipples with two fingers from both hands. Juno gasped, and then swooned.

I moved closer to the couple, buzzed Juno’s vibrator, and handed her lover one of two small, adjustable nipple clamps. I fitted one, and he applied the other. Dorian moved his face so that it was very close to hers.

“I’m going to make you so hot, by playing with your nipples” he murmured, “as I fuck you, driving my cock into you, harder and harder, because I lust for you, lust for your pussy, lust for your ass … the ass I’m going to fuck, the ass I must fuck … because Henry is so jealous that anyone else might fuck your ass, and you do want to cuck him.”

“Yes,” Juno said … panting, biting at her lover’s lower lip, as he tugged lightly on her nipple clamps. “My darling Henry can’t stand the idea. Yet it makes him so very hot. We’ll do it. You know we will.”

“Oh yes,” said Dorian said, as his cocked throbbed from aching to be inside her. ” I know we will.”

Juno’s knees buckled with pleasure from the double buzz to her butterfly vibrator I administered from a few feet away.

Doran ‘s cock throbbed relentlessly. He led Juno to the oak dining room table, where he untied her hands and removed the vibrator from her waist.

“Sit on the edge of the table, and wrap your legs around my hips,” Dorian ordered Juno, not unkindly.

Juno gripped her nude lover, as instructed. His thick cock parted her labia naturally, and provoked an audible moan of approval.

My clothes remained on the floor by the couple after my earlier disrobing, and I masturbated single-mindedly.

“That’s right, pull me in closer,” Dorian directed. “Force my cock deeper inside your wet cunt. My cock will not cum until I have brought you off. I can fuck you endlessly, pounding your cunt, balls slapping against you, against your hot, sweaty thighs … pounding your cunt that I so want to fuck.”

He ceased fucking her, and led her promptly to the arm of the nearby leather couch. He bent her over without formality and inserted first one well-lubed finger in her ass … and then another.

Dorian reached over to my crumpled suit pants on the floor where he retrieved a small square package from the pocket.

This aroused me in a strange way: Juno’s lover using my condom to fuck the woman I adored.

“You know what’s next?” Dorian asked, fitting the condom snugly onto his swollen cock.

“Yes,” Juno answered almost dreamily.

“I’m going to fuck your ass in front of the man you love.”

“Yes, I know.”

“And you love the idea.”

“Yes. Please, fuck my ass. Right now. I want it badly.”

Dorian carefully worked his thick cock into Juno’s ass and fucked her slowly and gently. As he took her ass before my eyes, Juno had a heavenly look on her face.

I couldn’t possibly deny my love such pleasure. At the same time, I tugged gently on her nipple clamps as she flashed me a smile of purest complicity.