The Erotic Ego











{May 6, 2009}   Full Contact Sport, Part 2

Stoney tried to kiss me but I pushed him away and flipped him, straddling him and holding his arms down.  “You’re getting me all muddy,” he whined playfully.  I smushed my hand down in the mud and smeared it on his cheek, laughing.

Finally I kissed him and the passion ignited quickly, the adrenaline from struggling adding an intensity.  I ground against him and he grabbed my hips roughly.  Impatient, I tore his pants open and hungrily swallowed his cock while straddling his leg, massaging my swollen clit.

When I let it slide out of my mouth, he threw me back to the ground and squeezed my breasts hard while sinking his cock inside me with wild abandon.  His eyes closed and the look on his face held more intensity than I ever noticed.  Oblivious to the mud all over us or the fact that we were outside in the yard, he allowed his need to completely envelop him.  His raw desire brought me to a hard and fast climax, unable to contain my exclamations of pleasure, I cared not who might hear.  The world around us didn’t exist…it was only us.

He drove into me, massaging my g-spot, with another loud cry I felt the sweet gush of fluids pour from my sex and onto the ground to mix with the mud.  The warm and welcoming feeling of the flood pushed Stoney over the edge and he moaned loudly as his orgasm pulsed through the two of us, seeming to last for minutes on end. 

He fell on top of me and we laid breathless before looking around us.  The neighbors dog was watching us with interest we didn’t spy anyone else around.  Then we looked at each other and laughed at the mud spots all over us.  “I think there’s mud in my ears!  Let’s get in and take a shower.”

“Well if you insist.”



{April 29, 2009}   Full Contact Sport, Part 1

My husband, StoneyCloudfire and I have been really enjoying our ninja training lately.  Along with the standard kicks and punches which comprise the “hard” style of martial arts, we learn the “soft” style.  Don’t be fooled by the name, the soft style carries with it much more danger because it uses no strength or muscle, simply the opponents weight and balance against him. 

He and I frequently choose each other as partners in class.  Our familiarity helps us get to the core of the exercise and legally coping a feel of my husband in class outweighs throwing over a skinny 11 year old boy any day.   The other day we were practicing a technique and suddenly I flew threw the air and landed on the mat before I even knew what hit me.  A thrill went through my spine I smiled, “You’ll have to try that on me again later.”  He winked back at me.

Later that evening we were out on the porch enjoying a cigarette and talking about our class.  “I’d like to practice that technique some more,” I said.  So we wandered out into the yard and took our positions.

“I’ll go first, you try and grab me.”  Stoney reached for my neck and I blocked it quickly turning around so that he was behind me and I could lift him up on my hip.  In one smooth movement he flew around and onto the ground.

“Oof, that was good, I think you’re getting it. I didn’t really think about the fact that it has been raining for a few days, my ass is wet, ” he said.  “My turn.”

I grabbed his wrist and he broke free, before I even realized he had a hold of my arm, I sailed through the air and landed with a thud on the ground.  He held my arm while standing over my head for the finishing move of the technique.  “Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine, our shifu would make you do push ups for asking me that!”  I took his moment of hesitation to push his leg out from under him and we landed in a heap on the ground, playfully wrestling together, jockeying for position.  Until we started taking this class we had never been much with the horseplay so I found this amusing and thrilling.  My body squished into the mud deliciously as he pressed down onto me, holding my hands above my head.  I strugged against him with my lower body.  Soon his erection pressed against me and I now writhed in desire instead of resistance…



{April 24, 2009}   Busy intersection

I’ve been a bad, bad blogger!  My apologies for completely abandoning everyone, but my work life has caught up with my blogging habits…and my personal life doesn’t give me much chance for blogging.  So I’m at an impasse!  Only thing to be done is live life first, then write about it later.  I promise to write more once time and the weather allows (can’t write on pretty days, you know, as they are for stretching my legs).  C’est la vie!



{April 6, 2009}   Adoration

(ever notice all these words rhyme with masturbation?!)

I was sooo glad to have E over, particularly because she is nice enough not to mention my terrible housekeeping skills.  But the sheets were nice and fresh smelling when we rolled into them Friday afternoon.  I let her get her boob and fishnet fetishes out of the way before she descended on my ravenous pussy.  I think she’s been getting more lessons from her husband because she had me moaning and squirming in orgasm in no time flat.  Or maybe absence makes the heart grow fonder and the clit come quicker as well.

Next she put her expert hands to work and a nice puddle of ejaculate formed under my ass as my body turned to jello.  By then I was dying to get going on the pussy worship.  She presented her gorgeous snatch over my face, careful not to drown me, and I gleefully feasted on her.

She topped it all off by fingering my ass while letting me ride her purple cock and suck her toes!  WOW!  I think we covered a myriad of fetishes in just one short afternoon.



{April 3, 2009}   Explanation

Ha!  I just read her comment on Preparation…sneaky indeed, hiding those fishnets under army pants!  I found them, though, after arriving late and giving myself a quick scrub up in her tiny bathroom!  I have to confess, though, that I was unable to rip the fishnets!  I tried, but they were made out of a stretchy nylon that wouldn’t budge, despite my He-Man efforts.  So, anxious to get to the pussy, I just peeled them off of her, and tied them around my head like a bandanna.  I think that’s what Steve Perry would have done with a non-cooperating accessory!

I’m horny as hell by this point, so I commence licking.  Then I discover that I can’t sing whilst horny…or with my face in someone’s crotch.  I can sing, really I can!  Why a homeless man once gave me his sandwich in the New York City subway to thank me for singing Amazing Grace for him…but I’m afraid I failed miserably at serenading a pussy!

Thank god, though, she whipped out my purple penis, which, of course, restored my masculine pride and prowess; I left feeling quite the little stud.

BTW, I don’t think I can do Alice Cooper.



{April 3, 2009}   Preparation

Typical procratstination, I’m listening to the hum of the sheets in the dryer now…anticipating E’s arrival in just 40 minutes or so.  I gave myself a face mask and lovingly cleaned the sex toys, including E’s beloved purple cock.  It has been a while since she’s taken it to me so I have high hopes.

Once my husband gets out of the shower I am going to give myself a nice clean shave and make sure my pussy is ripe for the singing. 

Steve Perry is okay but she actually gets much more turned on my some Alice Cooper.  Bad rocker chick to the core…”Your web, I’m caught, Your skin, so wet,  Black lace on sweat….I want to kiss you but your lips are venomous. Poison…”  Anyone remember the Bulletboys?!  They were all about sex, “Smooth up in ya!”  What does that even mean?!  Who really cares!?  Sorry I’ve gotten off on quite the tangent…the effect of rock music on my tender adolescent sexuality is another post entirely.

So better late than never I’m wondering what I should wear?!  I guess we’ve established that I need to find some fishnets she can rip…geez, where are they?  Black lace dress again?  Do I really need anything at all to go with the fishnets?  Well my husband is asking me to do something for him before he leaves so I need to sign off…details later, of course!



{April 3, 2009}   Anticipation

It’s a Friday, and I’m mulling over my options for wasting time at work.  Silver’s at home washing the bedsheets in anticipation of my afternoon visit today.  Her darling husband agreed to take the kids out for a couple hours so that we could have some play time.  The plan is I leave work at 12 something, go pick my husband up for therapy (we’ve been doing marriage counseling for well over a year now, and love it!), have “lunch” with hubby after therapy (I went vegan, so it will be a healthy lunch), and then drive over to Silver’s house for some recreational bonding on clean sheets!

She jokingly asked me to sing to her pussy in the comment section, so I’ve been practicing my Steve Perry voice today and am prepared to wow her with some stadium rock.  Journey’s songs have probably initiated more lays than any other ballad crooning band, so I think I made a wise choice in my repertoire.  Ask her kindly tomorrow, and maybe she’ll appraise my efforts!



{April 1, 2009}   Something Fishy

leg2Finally my computer has recovered from it’s coffee hangover and better late than never I present a picture of my glow in the black lighting fishnets. E says she can always count on my outfits to be “on theme” but I must admit that night I really got it right! It was so fun to wear my swim dress out and the fishnets were the perfect accessory! I felt like the belle of the ball that night for sure!

Sometimes I feel weird about wearing fishnets. I guess it is kind of old fashioned of me, but they seem a bit on the slutty side. E said anytime is a good time for fishnets but she’s biased, LOL! Then I saw a young teen girl wearing hot pink fishnets and I started thinking…well, what was edgy when I was a kid is just plain mainstream now.

I got to be on the other side of the coin and fondle someone else’s fishnets at a party last week. It was awesome!! Now I have decided they are going to become a regular part of my evening wear repertoire for good. There are a few pairs now stuffed into my underwear drawer with my sex toy collection because it took me a while to find these and I kept buying back up pairs. As you can see they make my legs look pretty darn nice, so I’ve given up any kind of false sense of propriety for style!

Now of course my visions and fantasies are starting to go wild…Can’t you just see a great big Chick Orgy full of nothing but women of all shapes and sizes wearing all different colored fish net stockings?! At the very least it would make for an exquisite photograph.



{March 31, 2009}   Pussy worship

I confess…I adore my own pussy.  She’s small and looks great trimmed.  She gets compliments all the time from people who have seen her, yet she remains remarkably humble!  She loves it when I sing to her and pat her satiny lips in the shower.  Lately, I’ve taken to reciting poetry to her.  Her favorite is an excerpt from the Edward Lear poem, The Owl and the Pussycat.

‘O Lovely Pussy! O Pussy my love,

What a beautiful Pussy you are,

You are,

You are!

What a beautiful Pussy you are!’

Here’s the whole poem for those of you that haven’t read it.  It’s a popular kid’s poem, probably not meant to be used to serenade pussies of a different sort in the shower.  I think it’s important, however, that we honor our parts!



{March 30, 2009}   Dirty Old Lady

I may have mentioned already that Ruthie is moving…we’re gonna miss ya girl!  Anyway, as her parting gift, Ruthie left me most of her porn collection, many of which are classic VHS tapes that she purchased for $.50 each from a video rental store that went under.  Unfortunately in this case, I don’t own a TV or a VCR.  I just watch DVDs on my computer every now and then.  Some of the tapes I’ve pawned off on Silver (that’s why they were in her backpack), and the rest of them I just threw in the trunk of my car, hoping my 6 year old wouldn’t find them.

“Throwing shit in the trunk of my car” has become a pathological ailment with me.  I put stuff in, I forget that it’s there, and then one day I open the trunk and find it again.  I’m notorious for hauling books, recycling, and random sundries around for weeks on end.

Well, now I’m hauling around a broken Roland keyboard, a box of recycled law books, and a shitload of old porn VHS tapes.  I had forgotten about the porn until yesterday.

I went to the grocery store, and in an unusual fit of laziness, decided to let the bag boy accompany me to my car.  He was probably about 15 or 16 years old, and clearly not a social butterfly.  He followed me to my car with my groceries, I popped the trunk, and THEN I remembered that I was carrying around a small video store full of porn.

“Shit!”  I said to myself.  “I have got to remember to clean the trunk out!”  His eyes got as big as saucers, and his pimpled lips gasped in astonishment…this probably seemed like gold at the end of the rainbow to him.  I kept a straight face, though, and in fact reverted to my college teacher demeanor.

“Is there a problem young man?”  He shook his head no.  I pointed toward the groceries and motioned him to put them in the trunk.

“I’m not sure there’s enough room,” he said meekly.

“Yea, my husband and his broken keyboard…he won’t get rid of anything.”  I slammed the trunk shut, and opened the Saturn’s tiny third door.  “Just fill up the back seat then, young man, and make it quick…I’m late for a date with my girlfriend.”



et cetera