Category Archives:
Women

IN WHICH I REALIZE MY ORGASMS WILL NO LONGER BE HAND-CRAFTED SELFIES SUITABLE ONLY FOR ETSY.  

After the sexual blisskill with Dave, I hadn’t been totally sure all of my girl parts were in working order. Such a long time had elapsed since I’d been sexually active, and I’d gone through menopause in the interim. But given Dave’s insensitivity and inconsideration, and the way that caused me to be unable to relax, I had a pretty good idea nothing was wrong with me, and everything was wrong with Dave.

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IN WHICH ME GETTING IT ON MEANS ME GETTING OFF. 

My arms had fallen back above me on the sofa — my submissive pose, like some conquered lizard in a PBS nature special, screamed “Take me, I’m yours!” and Anthony obliged. Now that he was inside me, I opened even more and he pushed himself in to the hilt, then lovingly extended his arms over mine, rubbing them on the way to romantically clasping my hands in his firm grip.

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IN WHICH I PUT OUT … THE WELCOME MAT, AMONG OTHER THINGS. 

Anthony and I continued the kissing we’d begun in Central Park, but now that we were alone and ensconced in my FFP — Fabulous Fuck Pit — sofa, it was only a matter of time before our Makeout Marathon would give way to the main sporting event of the afternoon. As our passion intensified, we were both incapable of silence, moaning, sighing and gasping unapologetically.

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IN WHICH I DISCOVER CHIVALRY ISN’T DEAD, IT’S ALIVE AND THROBBING IN ANTHONY’S PANTS.

Smokin’ hot Olympian Anthony’s muscles – the same ones I’d been sneaking a peek at in the park – were so prominent and sculpted, and now at last I was touching them, gripping his tanned biceps while he lay on top of me, looking down into my face. Even as I could feel him, as ever, straining at the inseam — which was almost bursting at the huge pressure — his eyes questioned mine as to what — or whom, rather — was to come, next.

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IN WHICH OUR PRIVATES ARE PRIVY TO PRIVACY, AT LAST. 

When I finally got the door opened, Anthony and I practically fell into my apartment like we were in a Marx Brothers movie — he’d been pulling my ass so tightly into him we were like one connected, lust-crazed organism. We both laughed.

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IN WHICH MY ORAL FIXATION GETS A WELL-DESERVED FIX. 

As the elevator kept climbing I bent down, and contentedly noting his considerable size, kissed not so Little Anthony, swirling my tongue around him momentarily as a brief preview of hot things to come. Big Anthony moaned and put his hands in my hair. But my floor was coming — I knew I’d have to cease and desist, and anyway, what if someone got on the elevator?

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IN WHICH I CONSIDER: TO HELL WITH DELIVERY DRONES, IN THE FUTURE WE NEED BEDS IN THE STREETS. 

Boorish, selfish Dave had taken my Second Virginity while denying me the Second Coming that was supposed to go with it. Now, with skillful, mature Anthony — a connoisseur of sex like every self-respecting, hot Italian male — I knew beyond a doubt, my deliverance was at hand.

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