Meet the Flintstones

My favorite Halloween encounter was with the Flintstones crew! Not only did they build and actual, foot-propelled replica of the Flintstones’ family car, but they dressed in the full complement of costumes… they even had a Dino! And, when they saw me, they immediately professed a need for first aid, and pulled me into their car!

But it wasn’t my medical skills they were after, apparently! That much became clear when Wilma playfully ran her hand over my leg and my breast, before trying to unzip my dress! That hussy! That’s what all the fuss was about in the picture below, right!

Then, she moved on to my ass, expertly caressing… as if perhaps, just maybe, she had strayed in her marriage before… Reaching under my dress, well… if it had been warmer, she might have found something more interesting than the fabric of my tights – and the evening might have evolved differently…

I tell you, I’ll never be able to watch the Flintstones the same way again!

But don’t you go thinking that Wilma is the only unfaithful spouse in that marriage. No, no, no! Fred is no saint, I can tell you, having had his lustful lips on mine! Shame on the both of you! And, in front of Pebbles and Bam Bam!

It must have been the evil Halloween spirits that got hold of them and made them behave this way. I’m sure that’s the reason I did! I mean, how else do you explain allowing myself to be fondled and touched all over, right there in the middle of the street, in front of everyone! I mean, it may look like I’m having fun in the one shot, and maybe even a bit aroused in the other, but… well, it was the ghouls that made me do it… must’ve been!

 

Halloween in Drag

I don’t know if it the same elsewhere, but here, at our big street party, there were so many guys in drag.

I managed to capture only a few, but it left me wondering how many of these guys dress during the rest of the year – or at least would like to? Or, at least would enjoy hanging out with a delicious, sexy t-girl?

This guy in the red dress is the first one I met, and he was really funny and making jokes and playing with me. (Good thing he ducked, or we’d have lost his head!)

Marge Simpson, pictured, is another example. There were actually two of them, but this was the better costume, I think.

There were lots more, as you can see by this selection of photos of men wearing dresses… I’ll post a few more on another day. As always, click on any photo for the full-size shot.

Church Street Halloween Party

As they do every year, our gay community organizes a big Halloween bash, closing off the main thoroughfare to cars and giving it over to a group of happy, creative people who party, make friends and generally have a good time. The costumes are always a sight to behold, and with Halloween being on Saturday night, people had more time to prepare – and to recover.

I was out last year as a sexy witch, but it didn’t seem to resonate with anyone. There are always certain people who are in constant demand for pictures, and apart from when I climbed up on that cross, no one paid much attention to me for the most part. Still, as I wrote back then, I had a very nice time and the attention I did get made me quite happy.

This year, we’d already been out Friday night, so I was onto my second-string costume, and I admit it was a bit cliché, but I decided to go as a sexy nurse. It turns out that the fact that there were several others at the party with similar outfits – quite opposite from being mortifyingly embarrassing – was a great reason to meet someone and get some photos together! Yay!

Besides, it’s not the nurse outfit, but the “sexy” that counts, and I thought I did I pretty fair job.

Being Canada and all, a lot of people were wearing coats, but that just wouldn’t do if I were going to get any attention at all! I needed to show some flesh! I had a coat and as I walked to the party, shivering in my coat, I wondered how I was going to be able to take it off and not end up in the ICU. Fortunately, once we got into the middle of the action, the collective body heat, pinned in by the surrounding buildings made it quite comfortable to show ‘em what I was made of…

Personally, I thought the last year’s witch costume was sexier, but I got so much more attention this year! Lots of requests for pictures together with me, and an equal number of very friendly smiles from pretty girls. Considering the competition, I was very flattered.

There were some fabulous costumes, including a group of four guys dressed as Count Chocula, FrankenBerry, Cap’n Crunch and the Lucky Charms leprechaun. I didn’t manage to get his pot’o'gold, sadly. Ha ha.

There was a group of people who built a replica of the Flintstones car, and dressed up as Fred, Barney, Bam Bam, Pebbles, Wilma and Betty.

There was a guy in drag with a chandelier hat, 2 Marge Simpsons, a very large peacock, Bert and Ernie, someone with an afro that was at least 3 feet in diameter, period costumes, ghouls and goblins and gorgeous people of every gender you might imagine, with a very very healthy dose of guys in dresses and wigs, and so much more.

I have a lot of pictures to share, so come back in a couple of days and see the next batch. In the meantime, Nurse Janie is going to administer some CPR to a deserving patient… I just have to touch up my lipstick first…

Claire in PVC

With Hallowe’en around the corner and being in a bit of a kinky mood anyway, I decided to publish a couple of photos showing me in a black wig, ghoulish makeup and lipstick and PVC. I hope you like them. (Click on the photos for larger versions.)

Talking Back(side)

Hi, my name is Wendy (not her real name); it is so nice to meet you!

It is not my intention to embarrass the person in question, so I am providing no specifics, but I cringe when I see something like the above, and I wanted to talk a bit about it. (I hope if she happens upon this post, she will not take any of this personally – I don’t mean to single her out; it just happened to be her picture I saw today. And, it is only because I come across this so often that I mention it at all.)

The picture at left is the avatar by which this person identifies themselves on a discussion group in which I participate. (I apologize for showing it at all, but I felt it was necessary to understand what I’m saying.)

Every post which she makes has her name and that photo.

I don’t know her at all, so to me, she is what I see in that photo.

She is by no means the only one with this kind of avatar, and probably not the worst example, but bad enough to be sure.

Why do people represent themselves this way? Is this a case of poor taste? Is it a lack of self-respect? If you don’t want to show your face, show your hand, a shoe, or a flower, for God’s sake!

I see the sexy heels, the lacy stockings and everything else… and I’m no prude when it comes to pornography… Show it to me on flickr, and, depending on the details, who knows…

But, in my humble opinion, this should not be your “talking head.” I get the sense she is talking to me out of her ass.

Then again, maybe she wants to be thought of as nothing more than a sexual plaything and is showing off her “assets.” Which is fine as far as that theory goes, but hardly in keeping with her friendly and sympathetic posts.

Hypnotized and Helpless

His soft words were so soothing that I was practically under his control before I realized that he was trying to hypnotize me. I fought it as best I could, but he was too strong and his mind overwhelmed mine… I fainted, falling helplessly to the floor.

When I awoke, I could see and hear, but I was unable to move. There were no chains, no restraints, but I couldn’t move! He was standing over me laughing and chatting with… my ex-girlfriend…

I wondered what they had in store for me… but whatever it was, there was nothing I could do to resist!

She put her hand on my knee and gave a soft pull. The knee fell over to the outside, opening me up completely. She laughed some more…

She pulled a checkbook out of her purse and filled one out, tore it off and gave it to him with a big smile. “Now that she’s mine, I hope you’ll partake… ” she said to a very receptive audience. “And, if you have a friend or two that you’d like to do a favor for, here’s your chance.”

Playing with Texture

A thousand words worth:

What would this naughty girl, dipped in hot plastic look like? (I am assured that the process involves no pain to the model, provided it is done digitally )

Pink Bubbles Part 2 of 2

(… continued from Pink Bubbles)

I sat there, a bit bewildered. Am I understanding this correctly? How far does she want me to go? How far should I go? I let it sink in, and I began to feel a bit empowered and a bit more excited.

I settled up with the waiter and made sure to pay her tab as well, and then strode over to her at the bar, where she was in the middle of a conversation. I grasped her left arm firmly above the elbow, and she immediately stopped talking, turned and walked out with me.

The hotel was an upscale boutique hotel with a well-appointed lobby with a modern New-York feel. I sat her down in one of their plush deep-purple chairs and went to arrange a room. When I returned, some fifteen minutes later, she hadn’t moved. She simply got up and followed me to the room.

I opened the door and we went inside. She stood there and looked at me, and I knew she wanted to see what I would do. She had driven the bus all night and now it was my turn. I guess this would be the moment when she found out if I understood her, if she had properly assessed me. She did give me her card, so there was a leap of faith on her part. I guess I should just be me. Or maybe I should just be honorable and leave… or maybe she’ll be disappointed if I leave…

I wanted her to like me, and I wanted to do what she wanted. I wanted to have sex with her, but not at the expense of torpedoing a chance to see her again.

I was making myself crazy, and I decided that the only way this was going to work was if I did what I thought was right. If she’s ever going to mean something to me, she’s gonna have to like me as I really am. And I wanted her, badly.

There’s nothing wrong with sex on a first date if both people want it, I decided. I’m not sure whether this decision was made in my head or my pants, but I wanted to make her scream with ecstasy.

I stood against her, holding her by her arms just below the shoulders and pulled her towards me to kiss her on the mouth, but she turned her head away. I was a bit concerned I had made a mistake when I realized that she hadn’t made any effort to escape my grip; if anything she was swooning a bit, and much more so when I kissed her exposed neck. She melted helplessly in my grasp. I lifted her onto the bed on her back and, crawling up between her legs, I hiked up her skirt and buried my head in her crotch. She purred loudly and spread her legs further, undulating with my movement.

It didn’t take but five minutes before she grabbed me by the hair and pushed my head down, panting, “Oh, yeah, ohhhh… mnnnnnhhhmm! Oh yeah! Uh, huh!” And then she came… whimpering… almost overwhelmed by her climax.

Then, she sat up and grabbed me where I couldn’t resist, pulling me towards her. She urgently undid my belt and pulled down my pants, hungrily devouring me. I bit my lip as I hardened to the point that I was worried that the walls of my member would shatter like glass; it was almost painful! I held her face by the cheeks and pulled out of her, kissed her on the mouth and pushed her back on the bed. I spread her knees apart and, looking into her eyes, I slowly entered her. But I didn’t take it slow for very long, and I almost couldn’t help myself as I pounded her at a feverish pace until I exploded!

I fell to the bed and lay there beside her for a time, face up with my forearm across my eyes… When I got up, I looked at her, sleeping restfully with a smile on her face, spent and satisfied, dreamy and dreaming. Perhaps my imagination was getting carried away, but she suddenly seemed to me like an innocent and fragile doll that I’d have liked to gather up in my arms and carry off to a secluded retreat somewhere…

I gently caressed her hair for a second, careful not to wake her, then got dressed and wrote her a note and silently left the room, hoping that this would not be the last time I saw her…

Pink Bubbles – Part 1 of 2

She was playing with her reddish ringlets as she sipped her Cosmopolitan, and smiled at me. It was that kind of a smile… They say that men make the first move, but “they” are wrong; oh sure, I was charged with mustering the courage to go over and introduce myself to her, but she reeled me in, no doubt.

[Quick clarification if there's any confusion: I figured, for a change of pace, I'd write a little story from a man's point of view. I hope you like it.]

For the past hour or so, she’d, ever so subtly, look up from her drink, and cast me a sideways glance, her eye slightly crinkling from a wry smile, and then turn her back on me and chat up her friends around her. I played it cool, but she knew I was interested… how could I not be? She was a vision, perched so lightly on her bar stool that she seemed almost to float an inch above the seat, her rust-tinged hair bouncing every time she moved her head, her long, smooth legs crossed sideways at the ankle, finished with pink peep-toe heels just kissing the ground.

She had just started in on a fresh Cosmo when she slowly turned in my direction and looked up from her drink, her glossy pink lips still on the glass, her long lashes up and her eyes sparkling. I knew that would be the most brazen advance she would make, and my time was now or never…

My heart was in my throat and my knees trembling as I came up to her. I had no idea what I was going to say. “Hiya, Champ! What took ya so long?” she asked with a big smile.

I exhaled.

“I didn’t want to be presumptuous and horn in on your group,” I offered.

“Such good manners!” She paused. “Wanna sip of my Cosmo?”

“Uh, no thanks. It’s a little sweet for my taste.” Just as the words escaped my lips I wanted to catch them and put them back where they came from… Arghh! Stupid! What did I just do? I was trying to maintain my cool, my masculinity and refinement, and I just passed up an offer of intimacy of a sort, didn’t I? What a dolt I am!

I tried to recover quickly. Think!

A thought… “Do you like champagne?” Then, inspiration… “Pink champagne?”

Her eyes lit up, and she put down her Cosmo. “Are you manly enough to drink pink champagne, lover?” She was teasing me and I knew that was a good sign. I smiled inside.

“Let’s grab a booth, ok?”

“k!” she giggled. She clutched my arm at the elbow and we walked slowly and closely together to a white scalloped banquette curved around an oval marble table. The booth could easily have accommodated eight people, but she sat right up against me, which was just fine with me.

The waiter arrived right behind us with an ice bucket, two flutes and a bottle. He placed the glasses on the table in front of us and showed me the bottle. “That’s fine,” I said, “but tell me, do you have those saucer-type glasses instead?”

As he collected the flutes, I could see a look a glee on her face. The waiter went to fetch the other glasses. “You surprise me!” she said.

“What do you mean?”

She looked at me and exhaled with consternation.

“Oh, that!” I replied. “Well, you just seem like the type of girl who likes bubbles too much to have them trapped in a narrow flute! Especially pink bubbles.”

She smiled and put her head on my shoulder.

The waiter was back with the glasses. They clinked against each other as he set them on the table. Then there was the sound of the unwrapping of aluminum foil from the neck of the bottle and the pop of the cork! Finally, the hiss of bubbles in our properly fun champagne glasses.

“To pink bubbles!” We clinked our glasses and sipped our effervescent rose-colored wine.

She put her glass down and turned towards me. Then, she pushed the table back a bit and brought her far knee across my body and onto the bench beside me so that she was straddling me. She sat back, nestling her bottom on my lap.

She took my glass from me and took a sip. “I just love how those bubbles tickle my nose,” she whispered, crinkling her nose and smiling devilishly, then paused just long enough to veer off in a different direction. “I always find the first kiss to be so awkward, and with you being such a polite fellow and all, I figured we might as well just get it overwith now…” She leaned in slowly and touched her pillowy lips against mine.

That first contact can be so magical with the right person, and so it was with her. Our lips danced together for moments, and then she withdrew, only to look in my eyes and then move back in for more.

With her sitting in my lap, my arousal was no secret. “I’m glad to see you’re enjoying me,” she quipped, and then slid off me and back onto the banquette, “but, let’s not get carried away… I hardly know you,” she said, almost smirking, but entirely serious.

We sat there for the next 2 hours, talking about everything… everything except what I wanted to do to her later… The more she talked, the more I wanted her, but I was enjoying the conversation and was in no hurry to end it.

The conversation did turn hot at times. We discussed sexual fetishes and offered each other personal examples (of the tamest kind, of course). Finally, she said to me, “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, cuz I’m having a great time and I’d love to see you again on a proper date, but I want to try something a bit kinky with you. ” She reached into her purse and pulled out a business card and slid it over to me face down. “That’s my card, but just put it in your pocket without looking at it, for now, and don’t look at it until tomorrow.”

I did as she asked, puzzled.

“Now, I’m going back to the bar, and I want you to come over in ten minutes and take me to the hotel across the street. Do not say another word to me tonight.” She kissed me gently on the cheek and walked away.

… continued in Part 2

Taking a Step Back

My first experience as a sub was quite enjoyable, as you have seen in my last few posts, and it was made all the better by my Master’s attention to and understanding of me.

Recalling his original offer though, which was a permanent and personal arrangement, and which he repeated during and after our encounter, I do believe he wants more than I will be able to give him, and despite my being open and forthright about that, sometimes guys hear only what they want. I know… I’ve been there.

The fact is, it is not altogether without justification. I have never allowed someone to boss me around the way I happily allowed him to, much less let them see what they were doing to me on camera! I never thought I would go that far! So, why should he not think I will eventually succumb and do other things I said I wouldn’t do?

A Woman’s Prerogative

As it happens, I have already reconsidered my previous actions and I’m not planning to repeat my “indiscretion” for the foreseeable future… (after that, who knows?)

Oh, sure I will submit to his will from a distance if he is so inclined – and I do so hope he is!

And, I will provide him with photographic evidence of my obedience – he’s entitled to at least that much!

But I will make sure those photos comply with the standards I have set for myself. A girl’s got to protect her reputation, doesn’t she? (It turns out that maybe I’m not that good at giving up control, after all!)

It’s Not As Easy At It Looks

As for my new friend, I can tell you all that I have a great appreciation for what he and people like him do.

In this context, it is easy to be the submissive. As long as what he tells me to do is within my comfort zone and it turns my crank to follow orders, I am his. Otherwise, I just turn off the computer.

But he has to feel me out, understand my needs, and push me just as far as I will go… far enough to be interesting, but not so far as to be uncomfortable. He has to be creative, he has to know what he wants, he has to know what I want… nothing happens without him.

And, it’s weird, but as a t-girl, few things have felt so feminine as spending an hour or two with the sole focus of pleasing a man’s every whim and being the sole focus of his attention. The ability to arouse him with my actions and to impress him with my appearance is strangely and paradoxically empowering in this submissive context!?!

Dress Me Up, Dress Me Down

Last time, I mentioned how I had decided to pursue an online encounter with a guy who wanted to play Master over me…

Well, I decided it would be best to ease into our relationship and see how things went… see how he behaved. I agreed to dress for him, intending to take a few candid stills for him…

He started by having me dress to his own very specific preferences, or, you might say, fetish. He knew exactly what cut, what color, what fabric of each item I was to put on. I knew that to please him, I would have to wear these things exactly as he described or risk disappointing him, which I didn’t want to do, even slightly.

Clothing is More Personal Than You Think

Echoing the White Lingerie experience, it is amazing to feel how submissive and compliant it can be to allow someone else to decide what you should wear.

A girl’s clothes are her image. She chooses them based on her personality and her impression of how they flatter her appearance. So, to allow another person to take this over and willingly abide by whatever choices he makes is a very intimate experience, I have found. It makes me his.

You find that each detail is so important to him, so that doing even the simplest things can really have an effect on him. It gives you a sense that every little thing you do matters… and it’s a source of sexual power, actually! And a huge turn on for me!

And, it is so interesting to see what he will do with me. You tend to fall into a rut of making the same choices based on the same perceptions, and then he takes this very personal decision from you and puts his own perceptions and personal preferences and kinks on you, and you wear them as his subject. And maybe you learn something about yourself from that…

In any event, you know he will like what you are wearing, and for that moment, that’s really all that matters.

A Man’s Got to Know Her Limitations

As I said, all I’d expected to do the first time was pose for some photos in the clothes he picked, but I think he sensed my vulnerability, my desire… (isn’t that just the best thing to have in a Master?)

Things certainly got a bit out of control that night! Before long, he had me on live videocam, posing me as he pleased and ordering me about, and I was doing his bidding, obeying every instruction without resistance, much to my own pleasure! OMG! (That performance was a special treat just for you, hon!)

To his credit, he never asked to see more than I was willing to show, and I respect him for that. In fact, that impressed me more than anything else.

What can be more important in someone to whom you give control than the twin abilities to sense your boundaries and to respect them without even having to test them or you? In this, he is undoubtedly putting your comfort and trust above his own pleasure.

Safety in Distance

As I was saying last time, an admirer wanted to make me his submissive, and the prospect of at least an online encounter along those lines certainly caught my fancy. But let’s step back for a second…

My, My… This is All a Little Fast!

Of course, the primary reaction of any girl to a stranger who quickly takes a serious interest in her is to be very wary of him. This goes double for a guy who wants to dominate you. And frankly, my antennae were up and on high alert. I paid attention to every word he uttered, the context, the subtext, the tone. Any sign of something wrong would have sent me running – online or not. But there was nothing (well, almost nothing).

With my physical safety protected by distance and the relative anonymity of the internet, I felt much freer to be receptive than I could ever be in person. And, the context of a domination/submission relationship puts a different spin on what otherwise might be worrisome attitudes. In fact, it’s just those things that are most worrisome in a normal context that are the most arousing in a Master.

As a result, I saw his desire to control and possess me as a major turn-on rather than a source of personal concern. His attraction to me became flattering rather than worrying, and his attentiveness was taken as a huge positive rather than a sign of potentially terrifying obsessiveness.

I wanted to be able to surrender to him, to put myself under his mastery, to obey… to feel the freedom of servitude … to yield to his lust, to my own lust…

In real life, I almost certainly would have erred on the side of caution and withdrawn anyway. Perhaps it would not have been a bad idea online as well, since after all, sometimes the real and online words can collide. But the safety of the internet added to my knee-weakening desire to explore this aspect of my sexuality and the fact that he seemed, as far as I could tell, not to be a psycho, convinced me to take the chance.

Who knows for sure what really goes on at the other end of the line, but…

Sublime Surrender the Cybersex Way

I recently wrote about the fun I had submitting to direction from a stranger to dress in white lingerie. Well, one of my admirers picked up on that theme and offered me the opportunity to be ordered around in person, and permanently.

Though my knees wilted slightly at the thought, I demurred. I explained to the gentleman I am in no way ready for that kind of relationship. But, his very specific and authoritative requests of me did hit a nerve, and I couldn’t resist an online encounter with him.

Note: For what it’s worth, some of what I’m about to tell you is actually true.

Reach Out and Touch Someone

To that point, it had never occurred to me what the appeal of cybersex, or phone sex for that matter was. After all, there’s not even any physical contact. I failed to understand how you can effectively order someone around from a computer in a different state. But I was intrigued to find out. And it turns out that you can have an intimacy of a sort long distance! And, it can be good!

What You See Is What You Get

In a long-distance or online encounter, I have learned that perception is reality – on both sides.

How real and profound his control was over me was exactly as we each individually felt it to be. It’s all in the mind! There are no handcuffs holding your hands behind your back… only his instruction; no fear forcing you to spread your legs… only your willing submission. For those moments, you live a reality that you have mentally created together. It’s what you feel, what you fantasize, what you share.

We both didn’t really have to even feel it the same way! If I had been after an acting experience instead of a sexual thrill, I could have been faking everything… and the experience would have been roughly the same for him regardless.

And, it could have been successful for me too, but in a completely different way.

But that’s not what I was after…

I wanted to feel what it was like to submit my will to his whims, to not ask why, to not judge, but just to do as I was told. I wanted him to take control of my body, to dress me to his liking, to pose me in any way that pleased him, to use me as he saw fit to sexually gratify himself, to tell me how to pleasure myself, tell me when and where and how to touch myself and when I could come…

… to see how that felt…

I needed him to feel my desire and my arousal, I wanted him to react to my real yearnings and yielding, to know how it was making him feel and what he would do in response and what that would do to me… I wanted to know how I would really feel…

To do this, I had to be real, completely.

I couldn’t have been dishonest with him. Though, as I have said, I suppose it wouldn’t have changed the experience much for him, it would have ruined it for me.

If he was acting, I don’t want to know… Unless we’re going to have a real-life relationship, it doesn’t really matter, does it? Whatever he was doing, just keep doing it! Oh, baby… just keep doing it…

White Slip and Undies

Here are some more shots of me. Thanks again, Carissa!

(click on any of them for a larger view!)

 

Push My Buttons

I never realized what a turn-on it could be to just do as you’re told. Heck, if I had known this back when… why, I’d have been a model child.

Hardee har har…

This girl I met online writes me and tells me what she wants me to wear, specifically describing each item and sensuously describing how to put each piece of clothing on; then she tells me to post my photos online with specific guidelines on that as well. I know she and her girlfriend will be watching… enjoying… seeing how carefully I followed her instructions and how well it turned out. She has taken care of every detail, and all I have to do is be pretty and do as I’m told…

…so I do…

I go about fulfilling her instructions and whaddaya know!? I sure get a kick out of it! I love the idea that she knows exactly what she wants and what she wants is me in those clothes… It doesn’t hurt that she has already whispered a few naughty little thoughts in my ear.

I didn’t have everything she wanted, so I went to the store looking for the missing items. The thing about looking for specific things based solely on her instructions is that throughout the whole experience, she was foremost in my mind; after all, whatever I picked up was measured only against one consideration: whether or not it was what she wanted. If she specified white, ivory wasn’t going to do… I couldn’t buy that pretty lacy bra cuz she distinctly said “silky.” There was a certain indescribable thrill about trying to gratify the attractive stranger who’d taken an interest in me…

Getting dressed was similarly… I guess the only word is… submissive on my part. First, I carefully shaved my legs. I massaged slippery soap all along over my thigh from groin to knee, and then along my calf and sharp shin-bone to my nicely defined ankle, caressing the entire length of my leg. I always find that to be a sensuous experience, but with my senses heightened, it took on a bit more… excitement. As I stroked up along the curves of my leg with the razor, the blade shearing easily through the stubble on my smooth skin, I found myself feeling the thrill of getting ready for a hot date.

Of course, unlike a normal date, I didn’t have to worry about what to wear. I just put on what she told me to… In a sense she was there with me… it was almost like her will was guiding my hand, dressing me as she pleased. Her taste was exquisite and the results were beautiful. I considered wearing my white Mary-Janes with the outfit, but since she never told me to do so I left them off.

Then, I got all made up, and went to see my girlfriend who was duly impressed. “Who’s the hot date?” she said, knowing full well. “It’s kinda sexy getting you ready and giving you over to someone else.”

“Isn’t it!?”

She enthusiastically set things up and took a bunch of pictures to satisfy my online friend.    As she repeatedly snapped the shutter, she kept egging me on, pushing my buttons, saying things like, “Show her how obedient you are,” “Make sure she knows how badly you want her to come over here right now,” “Show her your cute little ass,” or “Yeah, spread your legs for her…”

My excitement was… ahem… showing and scuttled more than a few shots. She seemed turned on herself during the shoot.

“It’s a lovely outfit, Janie,” she said, “but let’s see how feminine and sensuous you can be taking it off… slowly…”

She was still taking pictures as I slid the silky soft slip down to my ankles and stepped out of it. Then I sat on the floor with one leg extended and tentatively unhooked the garters… first in the front and then the back. I carefully peeled the gossamer fabric away from my soft, smooth skin and rolled it down to my pointed toes and removed the stocking, letting it drop silently to the floor.

“Now the other one,” she said breathlessly. She moved around to get a better angle.

As I finished removing the other stocking – trying to do so as sexily as I could manage – I looked up and noticed that she was wearing even less than I was…

A sweet, innocent girl such as I (dressed in virginal white, no less!) simply has to pull the curtain closed now…

I posted the pictures with the following message:

“Just as you instructed, I shaved my legs and then slipped on brand new white stockings and a garter belt, and secured the tops. Then, I slid up some silky white panties and a very short white nylon half-slip with lace edges. I wore no shoes since you didn’t specify any. Then I fastened a silky white bra and sheepishly went to my girlfriend to ask how it looked. She seemed perfectly happy to help prepare me for your pleasure, and approved the way I looked… she even took the pictures for you… I hope this meets with your approval… ”

 

Beauty or Beast?

I recently met a fat, greasy, old, hairy fart online who is trying to seduce me with intelligent conversation tinged with a bit of kink and sex… and he’s doing pretty well!

He pretends to be a young, sexy lady with a hot girlfriend and a penchant for t-girls, for which she may be feeling just a bit guilty. But not so guilty that she won’t defend her right to those desires, nor enough to stop her from following through with me, online at least.

She pushes my buttons, and I react by yielding to my feminine cravings. I can’t help it… she’s good!

But in the back of my mind, I know that this little vixen, as she has portrayed herself, is built for tv but she’s doing radio… she has not given me a single photo or video – manipulated, stolen or authentic. So, there is every chance that the image I’m getting in my mind – and the image that whoever is on the other end of this connection is carefully crafting – is not nearly based in reality, and my suitor much more resembles that significantly less attractive creature I described at the opening of this post.

Still, what’s the harm in going along and accepting this person as he or she pretends to be? Whoever is doing the writing knows what they are doing and is clearly not some drooling pervert Neanderthal. If they want to rely on their words, and their words are enough to get me going, then I’m all for pretending! It’s like reading a sexy book rather than watching a movie. Different, but still full of potential!

And besides… why shouldn’t the old fart get to have some fun too?

Nude Modeling

I woke up today to the soft light of the morning sun attractively illuminating the contours of my partially covered body. The silky sheets were haphazardly but artfully draped across one hip and between my legs as I lay on my back but sort of to one side, one knee slightly raised and the other leg straight out.

It occurred to me that I made a pretty fetching picture just then. I arched my back a bit and looked at myself in the mirror. “Hmmmm, not bad.”

My thoughts drifted naturally and I started imagining being photographed in that semi-nude state. I playfully tried out a few poses. “Oops, that one reveals too much, doesn’t it? Ah, but we could move the pillow here… Yeah, that’s nice!” I ran my fingers sensuously along the side of my leg…

I loved the play between light and dark, illumination and shadow. I could hide all my flaws and create some very flattering false impressions. I liked that!

Of course, I started to get a bit turned on. I was undressing myself with my eyes, but there was no reason for me not to undress myself with my hands. In the mirror, I saw myself slowly slide the sheets to the side. “Mmmnnhhhh…”

I lay on my side facing away from the mirror and looked back over my shoulder at my reflection. “Pretty sexy,” I thought. “That girl has a pretty nice ass!” I reached behind me and softly put my hand back there, running a single lithe finger along the natural line. I cooed quietly. The sheets in front of me moved slightly.

Is this what it’s like to be a nude model?

Used By A Beautiful Couple

[continued from Taking My Clothes Off]

I’d like to imagine that, having seen provocative nude photos of me, perhaps the girl in a beautiful couple might say to her man, “Well, maybe if we met someone like her, I’d be willing to do a threesome…”

“Ooooh, yeah, honey,” says the husband, “What would you do with her?”

“Well, I’d crawl up behind her like she is in that picture, sitting naked, and press my breasts up against her back, and rub up and down against her, caressing her soft skin with mine, until she got, ahem… excited, like in this one here.”

“Uh-huh. She’d be purring and rubbing back against you…”

“You’d come over in front of her and, holding her just above her ribcage, you’d use those sexy, strong arms of yours to lift her up onto her feet. Of course, she’d swoon in your arms and offer you an excited, probing kiss,” she winked, “but you’d go back and sit down on the couch like a good boy just the same…”

“By then, I would be standing behind her. I’d turn around so I had my back to her back and rub my smooth ass and back against hers, and reach behind me all the way around and grab her, y’know, there, while I slithered up and down against her… Oooohhh… I’d be so turned on that you were watching us, oh yes!

Her hands would be busy too, blindly, gently feeling around my body behind her…

And, y’know that picture of her bending forward with her legs straight and backside sticking out? Well, I’d tell you to come around behind her, spread her cheeks and lick that gorgeous ass while I snuck between her legs to the front and put her in my mouth.

When you’d gotten her good and wet, I’d get you to enter her from behind and pull her on top of you as you lay backwards onto the bed. Once you guys managed to wiggle your way into the middle of the bed, she’d put her feet flat on the mattress and arch her back placing her hands on the bed behind her, just like in this other shot. She’d begin moving her hips up and down on you while you reached around and pinched her nipples between your fingers, and I’d climb up astride her and ride her until I was screaming in ecstasy! ”

“Oh, God! I’d pound her from below and you’d feel it right through her!”

“Mmmnnhhhhmmm… Oh yeah! And we’d all thrust up and down together in rhythm – you , then me, then you, then me – moaning and groaning, and then we’d all come together and collapse on the bed, spent, kiss each other and fall asleep in each other’s arms.

And then we’d wake up the next morning and start all over again… but this time I’d want to see her do you!”

{gulp!]

“Uh-huh! Missionary position, while you licked me to orgasm as I knelt above your face and she and I kissed, her tongue exploring my mouth, mine flicking about inside hers, our lips soft and wet and sloppy. How does that grab you, cowboy? You up for it?”

Taking My Clothes Off

So many sexy pictures on the internet of delicious crossdressers doing nasty things or even just posing in the altogether. Got me wondering whether I should consider doing some nudes.

‘course, there are a hundred (thousand?) revolting photos of nudity and sex for every nice one…

I will never again be as young as I was yesterday. With each passing day, the appeal of seeing me nude diminishes. So, if I’m gonna do it, there’s no time like the present.

Got me thinking about why people post naked pics of themselves online. Sure it’s entertaining for me to look at them. Educational too, both positively and negatively (what works, what doesn’t work). But, they have sent something out into the universe that they can never pull back and put away. What’s the payoff for them?

Sure, I get that it’s a turn-on for some to take the photos, and to expose themselves, virtually, to the world. If you have an exhibitionist streak, this is very appealing. But, does the photo give you a thrill every time you see it or think of it? Or do you only get it the one time?

Perhaps these photos are advertisements for sexual partners?

I will confess that the thought of some dreamy guy, or a hot couple seeing my photo and being driven to distraction steams my windows.

Sadly, it’d probably be some 350 lb. hairy, bald, smelly guy with a drooling problem, breathing on my image.

But I prefer not to think about that, so let’s bring back the more appealing image of that yummy hunk who looks like, say, Smith on Sex in the City…

That he should become aroused as he looks into my eyes and imagines touching my body, that he wishes I were there to get on my knees in front of him just as I am posed in one picture, or that he is using me and I’m leaning back and arching my back, exposing my “secret” like I am in another photo… why not?

Or, that the couple I imagined is kissing, and each partner is imagining kissing me, or maybe that my photo triggers a discussion of “Well, maybe if we met someone like her, I’d be willing to do a threesome…”

[TO BE CONTINUED…]

Damsel in Distress-Chapter 8

Amanda felt two very different tongues on her quickly hardening cock, one licking the bottom (which was on top) and the other on the head. The skinnier, stiffer tongue licked tentatively on the underside and between and around her balls while the fat juicy tongue swirled hungrily around the head as it went deeper into the mouth and throat. A strong hand grasped the shaft and stroked it. If she had any doubt it was a man kneeling in front of her, the hard cock that brushed against her cheek before it was pushed between her lips dispelled such notion. She sucked enthusiastically, seeking to return the pleasure she was receiving above.

“Uuuuunnnmmmmhhhh…”

It was just getting good when they both withdrew and she felt lips on either side of the shaft, running their way up and down, the tongue providing moisture and added stimulation. Back and forth they went, and each time they slid up to the head and off, there was a pause as they French-kissed each other before they went back down on her. A hand on her face turned her head one way and then the other, a different cock waiting for her mouth on each side. She devoured each with equal enthusiasm before it was withdrawn in favor of the other one. Quite apart from her own physical pleasure and the sharing of her mouth between them, Amanda was enjoying imagining the passionate relationship between these two.

“Ooooooooohhhhhhhhhnnnnn…”

The next couple started by spinning her right-side up and sucking on her breasts and one of them stroked her and the other toyed with her perineum. “Ohhhhh! That feels good!” thought Amanda, hoping they wouldn’t be reprimanded for breaking the rules of the game.

She felt herself being turned back upside down as a hot, fat, juicy tongue zealously slobbered over her balls, toward her anus and back. As she started to think she might be getting close to cumming, she could swear she heard ice clinking in a glass and then being cracked inside a mouth. But this didn’t prepare her for the shock of cold that came over the head of her cock…

“Wwhhhheeeaaaaaauuuuummnhh!”

The cold dissipated pretty quickly, especially when a new, larger mouth took over. This was an expert tongue, swirling around as the head went in and out of the mouth. It slid over slightly to accommodate another set of lips and an enthusiastic tongue on the other side, and they slowly started turning Amanda round and round. She was rotating in their slobbering, active mouths while the dildo still turned in her ass.

“Oh MY GOD!!”

As she started to come she writhed and undulated, her knees shook and her arms struggled against their bonds behind her back and her neck against its collar. She exploded with such a force that it was the approaching couple rather than the one doing the deed that ended up winning the game!

“Take her down,” said the familiar voice, obviously realizing that Amanda had completely surrendered and was overcome by this last climax. “Put her on the couch.”

When Amanda awoke, she squinted upward, trying to focus. She realized that her head was in the lap of a striking brunette. As her vision cleared, she recognized who it was… a girlfriend from high-school. “Allison!?! Oh god… ” she thought.

“She and I, we had some good times,” Amanda reflected.

They hadn’t seen each other since each went their separate ways after a terrible fight before the graduation ceremony. “I never thought I’d see her again after the things I told her.”

Allison was stroking Amanda’s hair, lovingly.

“Ally, wh-?… ” Amanda trailed off.

“Shhh, Mandy,” Allison reassured. “We’ll talk later. Don’t worry, honey.”

Amanda smiled a happy smile unlike any she’d smiled in 25 years. She curled up in a fetal position and buried her face in Allison’s lap, and fell asleep again.

Damsel in Distress – Chapter 7

The wheel slowly came to a stop with Amanda upside-down. The shackles around her ankles were released and her knees forced to bend at right-angles with her legs fully spread, feet facing outward, not that she was resisting at all. She was sublimely happy to have them do to her as they pleased. There was another set of clamps at that level and her ankles were fixed there. The butt plug was retracted and she felt the air rush into the vacuum. “Oooh! I’m really in for it now…” She didn’t know what they were thinking, but what she knew was that she was completely open and in such an unstable position that any failure of her restraints would have her falling flat onto her face with nothing to break her fall, what with her arms securely fastened behind her. And, being blindfolded, she had no idea how far she was from the ground.

The wheel spun the other way… “Hhhnnnuuuuuuhhhnn!” The submissive yelp escaped Amanda’s lips spontaneously and unintentionally. Round and round… and again slowly she decelerated to a stop, once again upside-down.

She was completely disoriented. Her opening now twitched gently in response to a new attachment on the end of that pole being pushed into her. This one was gently curved like a slightly bent finger, but more bulbous at the end. The pole was spinning very slowly, so the attachment gradually corkscrewed its way into her ass. The rotation of the curved dildo was touching and releasing nerve endings in entirely new places Amanda didn’t even know existed.

“Ladies on the left, gentlemen on the right. You guys have all done this before in your teen days… well, not exactly…” Music started playing. Amanda recognized the song… The Stroll from 1955.

“C’mon guys!” the voice implored playfully, “Back in high-school, we used to line up facing each other, girls in one line and guys in the other, and then one by one, the couple at the end of the line stepped toward each other, got together and danced through the line to the other end. “

Amanda, upside down, hands behind her back and with a dildo spinning in her ass was wondering, in between her moans of pleasure, “What the heck are they up to?”

“Tonight we’re adding a little twist, ” giggled the voice, “When you get to the end of the line, get on your knees on either side of Amanda’s delicious cock-clittie and do your best teamwork until the next couple gets through the line to take your place… The rest of us’ll be taking notes… The couple with her cum on their face wins the game!”

“To keep you all motivated, the prize for this game is… well, the winners get any other couple they want, as their playthings for an hour.”

Damsel in Distress – Chapter 6

Amanda felt her legs being untied and spread wide, then shackled against the wall, her arms still behind her back. Now that her feet were no longer on the ground, she felt like they had taken away another psychological anchor. She was suspended in mid air, her attachment to terra firma severed. A belt was fastened around her waist to distribute her weight away from her neck. As Amanda was about to find out, she was attached to a circular insert – a turntable, if you will – measuring about 6 feet in diameter, within the wall.

There was a surprising feeling of cold wetness between her legs and the sensation of the softly pointed end of something cold and hard, (metallic or glass, she thought) slowly turning as it gradually worked its way inside her. Her intruder was, in fact, a well-lubed, custom-made stainless steel butt plug that formed the end of a pole, specially designed to attach to a pin on the lip at bottom of the turntable circle. The pin sent vibrations up the shaft and also caused the shaft to turn round and round inside Amanda. She concentrated on relaxing her sphincter as much as possible to receive the slowly spinning and vibrating phallus and as she did, the rest of her muscles relaxed a bit and her waist sank, impaling herself more deeply.

Set this way upon the pole, shackled at her neck and ankles, her arms pinned behind her back, Amanda closed her eyes and took a calm, deep breath and took in the sensations. Then, the wall to which she was attached began to spin slowly until she was upside down. “Vulnerability scale up one more notch,” she thought. Now she actually depended on her restraints to keep her from physical harm.

A big push from one side, and she began to spin much faster and quickly realized how helpless she was with her hands behind her back. She couldn’t even hold on for dear life, being attached by her neck instead of her wrists. The pole up her ass only served to heighten the feeling. And she was completely disoriented. Oh, and how utterly turned on that made her feel! “I am completely at their mercy,” she thought to herself.

Damsel in Distress – Chapter 5

They were all standing around amusing themselves while watching their beautiful captive Amanda. Her breath was short and excited. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the sensations… Her breasts were especially prominent because of her arched back and her nipples were hard with excitement. Her smooth tanned legs, bound at the ankles and knees, trembled a bit, as much from standing on her tiptoes as from the rush of adrenalin and sexual energy coursing through her body. And she was hard, so very hard! It felt bigger than it had ever been!

She thought of all their eyes on her, of the beautiful people in the room. It had been a while since she’d had sex and her body was hungry…

Through her eyelids and the blindfold she could make out camera flashes going off. First one and two, and then clusters of lightbursts cascading over her, each one gently kissing her flesh. She thought to herself how her sexy, defenseless body was the center of attention… how she had her own paparazzi.

She imagined how the photos might look, picturing the scene in her mind’s eye. Glossy, sumptuous pictures of her in a rich but kinky setting… handsome, powerful men in tuxedos and gorgeous women in glittering sexy cocktail dresses… the shiny marble floor, the contraption to which she was attached… maybe a garden and a gazebo… all the setting for lasciviousness… the overindulgent wealthy, looking for new forms of excitement… with her as their delicate, perfect, soft plaything… the shadows and accents of light on the curves of her body, on the contours of her stretched ribcage or her straining triceps…

Her luscious mouth, lips slightly parted, shamelessly expressed her envelopment by her own lust.

Oh, what could they do to her if they wanted… her body ached from the thoughts that were being infused into her imagination by her predicament… couldn’t someone just impale her… “Yeah, stretch me, do me… fill my mouth too… ooooooooooh, mmmnh!”

Perhaps a number of them were watching her, watching the others taking pictures of her, watching her again and noticing her body flush with excitement, engorged with sexual energy, undulating to the thrusts of an unseen lover, oh the decadence of it all!

It was all just too erotic for her and she came then… a full-body orgasm… and ejaculated uncontrollably! Her knees buckled for a second, but the collar quickly reminded her to stand up…

A strong feminine hand wrapped itself around her shaft and stroked her firmly three times, squeezing out the rest of her load. “Ohhhhhh…hhh… ” Amanda came again…

“Oh, Trevor!” came that voice again. “Clean-up duty!”

Damsel in Distress – Chapter 4

Before too long, Amanda felt herself being lifted off the floor by her legs and shoulders and carried about thirty paces and placed upright on some sort of stand. She could feel a wall behind her. A firm feminine hand was on her neck, pushing it up and back against the wall and then a hinged collar brought round and locked, fixing her neck firmly against the wall. Amanda had to stand on the tiptoes of her deliciously delicate feet to avoid being choked by this collar, while her arms, still bound behind her at the elbows and wrists, forced her back into a somewhat uncomfortable and vulnerable arched position.

You couldn’t have blamed her if she had started to worry about her predicament at this point. But instead, she was so turned on she was worried she might faint.

“I think she might cum without a touch,” said one voice.

“A thousand bucks says no way!”

“If she doesn’t, Mike, you’ll have to make her cum… without using your hands,” added the familiar feminine voice that Amanda still couldn’t place.

“Oh, no!” came the sarcastic response.

“And Trevor, if she does cum, you’ll be cleaning it up… with your tongue!”

“And if I don’t?”

“Pretty Amanda knows the answer, doesn’t she? I’m sure she’d be willing to trade places with you.”

“Not so sure,” Amanda thought to herself.

Damsel in Distress – Chapter 3

A flick of the switch and there is light. “Hello, Amanda. Welcome to my party! I’m so glad you could make it.” The words are carried to her ears by a familiar feminine voice. She is still a bit groggy and the sudden light after dark has her squinting to clear her vision, but she can make out several pairs of very sexy high heels with the legs to match scattered among a roughly equal number of pant legs and Oxfords. She twists around on the floor. They’re all around her.

But they don’t approach. Rather, they soon disperse to every corner of the room and the din of chatter consistent with a group this size fills the air, punctuated by the clinking of ice against glass and laughter.

“…the floor is black marble, and spotless… and it’s not so cold once you get used to it,” she thought to herself. No one was hurting her or assaulting her… in fact no one was paying any attention to her at all. And there was that familiar voice… Amanda was mystified, but she was also starting to feel strangely turned on by her predicament, lying helpless and almost naked on the floor, a plaything at the whim of the rich and beautiful people at this cocktail party. Who knows what they had in mind for her when they finally get around to it?

About an hour later, she could see one of the waiters approaching. He knelt down beside her. “Madam said if you were aroused, I was to remove your gag and blindfold you… and you are… ahem… clearly aroused.”

Now, Amanda could speak but no longer see. And there was really nothing to say. Screaming didn’t really seem like something she wanted to do. She wondered what was coming next.