Because of Becca…

I came while bent over my bathroom vanity this morning. I will start at the beginning.

One of the many sacrifices I made with the career change was giving up my weekly massage. It was difficult, but my chiropractor tamed the change in three ways. One. Becca is kind of hot. Two. My insurance pays Becca. Three. Becca massages low.

My masseuse Angie was wonderful, and as massages go, my time with Angie could be described as fairly intimate. I would walk in strip, and Angie would do magical things to my body.

Until Becca my experiences with chiropractors were cold. I saw them post car-wreck, they would put me in room, attach the electro-pads to me, tug, push, make me crack, and send me on my way.

Becca was noticeably different from the first time she pulled my panties down to massage my lower back. I didn’t mind the electro-pads, tugs, pushes, and cracking from Becca because each session ended with my feelings as if I’d enjoyed a ‘half-body massage’ instead of an ‘adjustment’.

Now that I am off for the summer, my morning routine has changed, and I get to enjoy watching Jackson move around as he prepares for this day. This morning we were in a heated debate about Labor Day weekend; I am dreading spending it in Hilton Head with his family. No- with his mother. I digress. Walking out of the bathroom I flippantly declared,”thank god I am going to Becca today, she can work off this tension in my neck.” I couldn’t stop my footsteps fast enough as I felt his hand grab and then wrap around a fist-full of my hair. This is when time seems to slow a bit. My pulse quickens. I am suddenly hyper aware, because I feel the change.

I am not often the bratty type I swear. This morning though, I was irritated. So when he asked if I was going to Becca so she could make me feel good, I looked straight ahead as his grip tightened against my scalp, the thrill sending tingles throughout my body, and I said “she is going to make me feel great”. I knew what I was doing, but to be honest, it was fun. What happened after was even more fun.

As if my hair was a leash Jackson pulled, and I stepped backwards towards him my back flush with his chest. My breathing betraying all attempts to hide my arousal as he lowered his head to rest on my shoulder momentarily before trailing his tongue up past my neck to my ear.

“Does Becca make you feel this?” He inquired in a whisper.

“No Sir.” I responded, barely audible. His left hand circled me, caging me in, and then drifted, agonizingly slowly under my blue teddy, past my mound and directly into my heat. He turned us so that we faced the large vanity mirror.

“Look at you. What about now? Does Becca make you feel like this?” He said harshly in my ear. His fingers curved hitting that perfect spot. My head falling back against his chest, as he released my hair to allow his right hand to circle my clit. Losing proper function of my legs, I reached out with both hands against the vanity to support myself.

“No Sir she doesn’t.” I admitted via half moan, closing my  eyes as my hips began to rock forward against his hand, and backwards against his cock.

“Really, open your eyes, look at yourself. You are humping my hand. Can Becca make you feel this?” He asked again as he withdrew his fingers from inside me. I moaned in protest, and he quickly unsheathed his cock before thrusting into me.

It is always so perfect the way he feels with that first thrust, my body quickly adapting. Throaty, raspy, moans, and pleas rip from my throat as he fucks me. Hard. Deliberate. Punishing. Thrusts.

“When you see Becca today, and she has her hands on you, I want you to remember this.” Each phrase punctuated by another breathtaking thrust inside me.

“Yes Sir.” I yelled silently begging for the release that was coming far too quickly.

“Do you want to come for me?”

“Yes please Sir”

Will Becca ever ask you that?”

I grunted in frustration. “No Sir. Please!” I begged as he intensified his assault on my clit.

“Come with me baby.” And beautiful little white spots burst behind my eyes, as he burst inside of me.

So when I was splayed along the table, and Becca pulled my panties down and out of her way, a soft moan escaped my lips, but I didn’t tell Becca it was all her fault that I sort of

looked like this

Kinky Sex Club

as I came while bent over my bathroom vanity this morning.


The Stall at the End

Last week one of my besties came to visit me. One of the best weekends I have had in a while. Here is a highlight: Of course I had to show her around the great city of Houston. Ikea was high on her list. So we stroll into the restroom before we get going in the superstore. I head down to the handicap stall (there is something about all that space). Unfortunately the last one was occupied. So I mosey into the next to last one. Then as I am sitting on the porcelain throne, I see two pairs of feet. There are TWO people in the next stall. Then I see one of those pairs of feet disappear…. *cue raise of eyebrow*. Then the thump against the stall wall… *cue big eyes*. OMG They are fucking in the next stall (on repeat in my head).

I couldn’t get out of the stall fast enough to tell my friend what was happening. Then I realized how jealous I was of the people in the stall at the end, and how turned on I was. There is something amazing about public fucking.

Thank you Sir, but that was rude!

Yesterday I was mid-full-on-fantasy-mode. I had waited patiently for my Tuesday, only to have it ruined by quite the forceful fiancee.

Here is some background…One of my favorite bloggers had written part one of yummy tale. He is really good at what he does, leaving many a submissive all wanton. The best part, I wast late to the party of part one and part two, was right behind. 🙂 I like not having to wait, but I digress. You see I had a date. Tuesday, was my day to play with my DP.  Some technical issues kept me from enjoying my DP, but alas we were able to have some fun. (Me, my favorite dildo, and my hitachi had SO much fun)

I wasn’t done with my DP though, when Jackson came home. I knew I would have to get back to reality when he and my son came home, get back to the domestic life for the night. Surprise though, my son wasn’t with him. I gleefully returned to my play with the DP, when I was attacked. I wanted to mind, but when there is a hand wrapped around your neck one tends to get lost in the moment.

It was a good moment, that turned into many moments, that turned into a really long night. When I woke this morning, bruised, and sore I looked at my Dom and said thank you. Then let him know rude he was for interrupting my long awaited internet fuck with my DP. Some people show now regard for others!


I am up writing because I can’t sleep. I can’t sleep because a friend just told me he had sex with his ex-gf last month. Then last week he ate her out and fucked her tits. His words not mine.

Logically, none of this should matter to me. I know that. The trouble is, it does. I got physically hot when the surprise wore off from the first revelation, and he told me about last week. Not ooo sexy hot, but what I am guessing is anger hot. I shouldn’t be angry. I am. I shouldn’t feel any of the things I am feeling right now, betrayal, hurt, disgust, frustration… I keep seeing them together, it plays in my head over and over and my god this sucks.

I see him slamming into her in a heated rush. I see her back arched in ecstasy as he does. I hear her screaming his name as he pushes her over the edge with tongue. I see his cum shooting onto her chest and face, and all of it, all of it makes me sick.

Sick. Sick. Sick.

I don’t know what my problem is, but I can feel it. It is trouble.

The worst part of all of this, is I swear our relationship has been off a bit since last month.  Yes. Trouble.

Another Sad Love Song? NO, Another Sexy Sex Song

All last weekend I was punished. Punishment is complicated. You hate it for so many reasons. You love it for, not so many reasons, but you do love it. Then there are times like this past weekend, when you don’t love it. Times when it just feels like torture that will never end. Those times you just hate it. You promise yourself to never, ever make that mistake again, as to never feel this way again. Which kind of makes you feel like Pavlov’s dog…maybe it is the collar that makes me feel that way…bad bad punishment.

This brings me to the point of this post. Ya know how when you are enduring  a bad breakup, every song reminds you of him. Every song is your song, every song is another sad love song. Well, let me tell ya, the same thing happens when you are denied sex. EVERY fucking (pun intended) song that comes on is indeed a fucking sexy sex song. I guess it wasn’t the best idea to listen to Janet Jackson radio on pandora, but it is pretty upbeat station, most of the time… Here is just a few that managed to drive me more crazy as the days passed.

I do love it when he takes me by surprise. It is rare when I don’t see it coming at all, but it sure is fun when I don’t.

This one just makes me grind my teeth literally. Then again Adam just makes me cross my legs in general, even with all those tats.

Self explanatory

This album was just amazing,

I am going to stop now, this could go on forever. Point being, last weekend sucked. I am glad it is over. I am glad he finally let me orgasm. I am glad that it went on and on and on in a way that only he can cause. I am also glad for sexy music. Music is complicated too  now that I think about it, so good, yet so bad. hmm food for thought

My Don’t Touch Me PJ’s

Last night after I finished washing the dishes and putting my baby boy to bed, I showered. Then I put on my “no touching” pajamas. I am not the only one that has these right? Ya know the granny looking flannel ones. They aren’t sexy at all. I was fully prepared, to spend the evening catching up on my TV.

When Jackson came to bed, he looked at me an grunted acquiescing to my nightwear. He respects my “don’t touch me pajamas” unless the alter ego shows, and then, well, I have no choice, that is a more rare occurrence than my grabbing my “no” pj’s. I think he just dislikes the idea of my “no” pajamas. Who knows…

I was in bed watching, he was in bed reading, an hour later he turned off his light, and kissed me good night. Mid Castle, and right before bed time, I decide to check my e-mail. Then I decided to write a post I’ve been meaning to write forever. At this point Castle has gone off, and I am halfway through the news. It is way time for bed. Then I check my reader. Mistake one, I am browsing, and reading, and then I come across this. In retrospect, I shouldn’t have clicked, but I couldn’t help myself. I get all excited whenever I see a new post on Ken’s blog, just because, well, they are always so good, and hot, very hot. The untitled series def, hot. So I click. Mistake two.

I get into my reads, esp the good ones, I put myself in the space of the writer, and there I am. This time I am feeling his tongue on my nipples, followed by his teeth sending ripples of pleasurable pain through me. I am hearing myself moan as he teases me  between my legs, licking, biting, sucking my inner thighs, torturing me with anticipation.

Aw Fuck! I did it again. I can see my nipples stretching the flannel tank top. I can feel the dampness between my legs. I finish reading. I am sitting in bed hot, and bothered, and to my right is a sleeping lover that will fix my newly gained problem. I really shouldn’t wake him up. I should really get some sleep. I am really wet. Maybe it will go away.

I finish watching the news, and the late night show. It hasn’t gone away. I look at Jackson again, I want him, right now. I resign to wake him, he will live. I finish another quick e-mail, bitching about my little predicament. Shut down my compy, and put it away. I divest of my “no pj’s” and climb back into bed. It would be much easier if he would sleep on his back. Ah well. I snuggle up behind, moving my hand under his arm, to his chest.

“Baby” I say softly, nudging him. No response… “baby I need Thor”

“odd grunting sound”

I plead with him, while moving my mouth to his neck, kissing him, “please”


“They are gone.” I say, sliding my hand down his chest, past his abs, and into his boxers.

He shifted to his back, looking at me, still half sleep. I moved quickly, a hint of a smile came across his face. He nodded, raising his hips off of the bed pushing his growing cock into my hand.

“thank you baby, I will be fast, promise” I said moving down the bed. Quickly releasing Thor and taking him into my waiting mouth, sucking him to life.
Jackson’s hand moved to left hand, holding it, letting me know he was with me,  before a gasp escaped his lips, as I moved faster. Suddenly I dragged my teeth against him.

“mmFuck Sam!” sitting up on his palms. He glared at me, I smiled up at him.

Lifting my lips from his dick, “I need you awake.” I said softly, but before I could return Thor to my mouth Jackson had me on my stomach, my face, pressed into the pillow, and his lips against my ear.

“I’m awake.” he said, not so softly, nanoseconds later he slammed inside me from behind. My moans muffled by the pillow as he rammed into me, again and again, pulling my head up by my hair so I could breathe. Fucking my cunt so hard and as I promised, I was fast, the tingles came with the white lights, with the burst of fading colors as his teeth sank into my shoulder, sensations colliding, as he filled me.

Crap, I took a shower tonight so I wouldn’t have to take one in the morning. Ah well. Serves me right. I have to stop reading before bed.

Lola in Revolt

Occasionally my libido skyrockets to the moon. It is irritating, and frustrating. I no longer have control over my own body.It is like my dear Lola is taking her revenge on me. Getting retribution for all the wonderful things done  Yesterday I was driving, already wet, because when I get like this, I am ALWAYS wet. Anywho, I am driving, and I hear this car, or truck, and it sounds hot. I am looking for it, trying to figure out what vehicle is making this unbelievably sexy sound, and when I spot it, my muscles clench like I am holding onto a cock for dear life.

A lot of times my phases equate to a lot of fast fuck sessions with the sir. Unfortunately for me he left yesterday morning and wont be back until tomorrow morning. FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK my Lola and the torture she puts me through for no good reason.

Let’s add onto my misery… I am bitching to Jackson about being horny and wet all day. At first he seems to sympathize with me, and then he doesn’t. Mid conversation, he lets out a sexy as hell gasp/stifled moan, that makes me more wet. Why I bothered asking I don’t know but I did. “What are you doing?”

“I won’t tell you that I am rapidly stroking my cock right now, imagining my hand was your hand, that wouldn’t be nice.”

AHHH the evil fucker. “That was hot, and mean, and I won’t be able to get the thought out of my head. I hate you.”

“No baby, what you hate is that you can’t wrap those lips of yours around me”

The fucker was right. I hated the distance, it sucked, hard, really really hard. -I am doing it again. sigh It would be so nice of him to give me emergency masturbatory privileges. He won’t. I asked. Then I got in trouble for asking. 😦

A girl can’t win with Lola in revolt.