Saturday, 30 May 2009

Journey South

We all know I love giving oral. If you don't know this yet, then welcome new reader! I suggest you start with the FAQ and work onwards.

Last night was fun. Upon awakening from a light doze (work has been exhausting me recently, it's not a light job) and finding that it was still relatively light in the room, and my girlfriend was still awake, and naked from the waist down, and my jerk back to reality seemed to be an indication that there were sexual rumblings afoot. Hell, I don't mind that, do I?

So I worked my way down - a gentle kiss of a nipple here, a cheeky lick down a belly button there - but my real target was that area just below the lady garden, one of my favourite places to be when I'm in possession of some excess energy to get rid of. That's right, it's all about me, I'm really selfish and not a generous lover at all, no way.

Uh, so, anyway.

My aim - if you can call it an aim - was to take a lot more time over this than usual, and slowly bring things upwards, rather than my usual technique, which tends to be quite... 'forceful', one may term it. I'm not a violent man, but I am quite keen... er, anyway, the agreed protocol for this instance was that it should be slow, steady, gentle, and intense. So that was the way I played it:

I started by breathing softly onto her lips, and then placed the whole of my tongue on them, pulling them upwards and then withdrawing. Licking up and down the left-hand side of one lip, and the right-hand side of another, not actually having been inside the centre yet, but building up an expectation of what was to come, and then gratifying it, by licking up and down right in between the two pussy lips, tasting the opening of a hole between them. Familiar, pleasant sensations. I licked her up to her clit, and placed my tongue there.

I circled it, one way and then another, with the tip of my tongue, and then traced small circles moving it downwards, and the same back up again, still steadying my pace, then 'vibrating' my tongue back and forth rapidly, moved down to the bottom and back up to the clitoris, considering my next move while I licked absent-mindedly at it and felt her legs slightly tremble. Feeling the hot, wet feeling just below my chin, I kissed the inside of each thigh and then moved my face back, sliding a finger from my right hand into her as my left hand gripped her side.
Her hips bucked upwards. Two fingers... three. The little finger left to caress her perineum, and after a few seconds feeling her shape mould around my fingers, I went back in.

This time, it was a lot faster. I could feel her heartbeat from where I was, and I knew exactly what to do. I went back to the clit, this time licking upwards and flicking my tongue against it, quickly, repetitively... over and over and over and over again...

...and again...

...and again...

...and again.

And eventually, I heard - just before I felt - the distant goal, the orgasm, becoming not quite so distant. I withdrew all my fingers and kept licking, relentlessly, as all inhibitions were forgotten in that marvellous half-minute or so when her orgasm takes hold of her legs and wraps them firmly around my head.
This orgasm seemed to have responded to its stimulus. It, too, was long and intense. The sounds that I heard immediately afterwards (usually, as I'm sure you'll know, the dying-away moans) were a sequence of low "mmm..." sounds made through the nose with a closed mouth, eyes shut and with the ghost of a smile flickering across her face.

I went upstairs to wipe my own face with some water. I was aiming, this time, to kiss her after she regained her senses, and I was pretty sure that, after what I'd just done, a cleaned mouth would be a very good start.

Wednesday, 27 May 2009

These Be Links

Just in case you are reading this and you're wondering why I've labelled you a hero or a villain in my handy blogroll on the right-hand side.

It's nothing personal.

The 'heroes' bit is for the blogs that are active. These are the ones you should read. The 'villains' bit are for the blogs that are inactive. So they're worth reading if you have a bit of time. And I'll chop and change as I see fit if someone suddenly starts updating again, which would be nice.

And the other blogs aren't really much to do with sex. They're just cool blogs which you should read anyway.

Thank you and goodnight.

Tuesday, 26 May 2009

I miss you

Lying on your back on the grass in the garden in the mddle of the V&A Museum. I've never been here before. There are children running through the fountain in the middle of the garden: carefree, vibrant, liberated. The water splashes up and stains their dresses and jeans. And you are lying on your back and I am lying next to you.

I turn over, leaning my head on your chest. My hair feels soft and tickly on your neck. My face is between your stunning breasts and your beautiful face. And I want you. This is the sun on my back, the sun that makes me fall in love. This is the sun that we indulged ourselves under in St. James' Park, and the sun we battled in provincial France. It is making me want you. It is in my heart and that is making me love you.

An unsteady, but deliberate, kiss just above your cleavage. I pull my bottom lip over your chest, gently caressing your skin with my kisses. I have been kissing you a lot these days. And your skin - your skin tastes beautiful and feels so soft. I kiss it more, I kiss you up your neck. A laugh from a child, a remonstration from a mother, a ray from the sun, and a kiss under your ear. You are smiling. So am I.

I kiss your mouth; you reciprocate. I wrap my arms around you and we are warm.

Friday, 22 May 2009

I'm not a dentist, but...

I have long enjoyed the sight of an open mouth during sex.

Not that I am a mouth fetishist or something. I don't particularly get off on the sight of a widened hole with a tongue and teeth in it. In fact, that's probably not something that turns me on at all. But what I like is the cause of opening one's mouth during the act of sexual intercourse (which, as the textbooks, will have you know, is a very important part of a loving relationship between a man and a woman).

It's usually an orgasmic moan, but there's other causes. Perhaps it's something more akin to surprise, or amazement, or maybe your muscles go slack during sex - in which case, consult your doctor. It's just that your mouth doesn't usually open that wide other times, unless you're watching a particularly good film.

An open mouth, like open legs - or an open heart if, like me, you are a romantic fool - is an unconscious sign that you are enjoying the sex. It almost gives your enjoyment away (if, for example, you couldn't hear, a mouth open with that wonderfully 'oh dear God that's good' expression would be a good indicator you're doing well). Shannan Leigh (pictured) is particularly good at conveying this during her sexytime scenes, but it's something I also noticed while having energetic sex with TD a couple of days ago.

So now you will, too. Another small factor in the wonderful world of sexual expressions.

My, I'm in a funny mood this afternoon.

Tuesday, 19 May 2009

Favour of the Week

I am rarely given to advertising on this blog - and unlike some other people I've never been propositioned to review a sex toy (maybe, rightly so, nobody's believed me to be that sort of boy) - but I think I'd better mention this - it's National Condom Week.

Okay, so I don't use condoms - useful things, but they dull the sensation and the pill is a wonderful invention (as is the injection, but that's for another entry), but I won't deny that they need much more exposure than they actually get. How many condom ads have you seen in the last week - compared to ads for McDonald's, for example? Yeah, thought so.

Anyway, on behalf of Durex, I thought I may as well pimp the survey they've launched - the aim of which is to be 'the biggest ever insight into the sexual habits and practices of the nation' (although their definition of 'the nation' seems to be a little loose, but if you're in the British Isles I'd imagine you qualify). If I were you, I'd take the survey. You know, because you could win some free stuff and all.

www.durexsurvey.co.uk

Also, interestingly, it happens to be National Vegetarian Week this week. This is good news, because unless you've realised, vegetarians are sexy as hell. I think we're healthier too, for some reason.

Monday, 18 May 2009

Anniversaire, deuxe points

It's not that you need to have some sort of excuse to have great sex, but it's always nice to think of one, particularly if it's a good reason. (Note: your hamster's birthday is a good reason, as is the anniversary of the the time the guy who your friend's cousin's work partner's hedge-trimmer's grandfather walks the dog of found a penny down the back of the sofa.) I know our anniversary was last week, but since the girl I was willing to have sex with was in France at the time, we had to wait until this weekend just gone. Accordingly for two young and relatively free spirits, we went away for a bit, to a place called Cannington near to a place called Bridgwater.

No, I hadn't heard of them either.

We did some quite couply things while we were there, and during the good-morning-let's-have-pre-breakfast-sex sex, we discovered a terrible - yet wonderful - thing... the bed we were on (and bear in mind that we were staying in a smallish B&B) creaked. Loudly. Still, the amount of noise shows how much I truly care.

So, yes. Anyway.

We went for a walk - by which I mean, we spent six hours walking. Well, there was nothing else to do. Eurovision wasn't until the evening, and in any case, there were some nice places to walk, even if the maps has been drawn in the early 80s by someone who had taken the aforementioned walk three years beforehand. The imagination is a wonderful thing. We had some food in a pub and then made out way back to the B&B.

The time it took for us to get a little frisky didn't take long, unlike the sex.

Oh. My. God.

This was truly amazing. Like, super cool ultra high density. "Mega", as B. D. Snail may put it. I was actually quite desperate. Not for sex, exactly, but I was acting desperately, if that makes sense. Moving frantically, using the creaks of the bed as a sort of rhythm to time my thrusts to - well, when life gives you lemons, you make lemonade, and all that - making sure that anniversary sex was exactly what anniversary sex was meant to be: mind-blowing, wonderful, hot.

Orgasms made their presence known, and I made my way down to continue, 'cause I wasn't quite finished yet - I'm hardly going to pass up an opportunity to administer ILB's Oral Sextravaganza
, especially when she's willing to receive - and licked her back to orgasm. I recognised the symptoms of orgasm, at least. Legs closed behind head and a familiar spreading sensation. Check. But by this time I was hard again (there's something wrong with me, surely). So, showing incredibly kind forethought, she bent over forwards and I entered her from behind, turning my head to the side and grinning at nobody in particular.

I like this position. I mean, I like all the positions, but this one lets you use different parts of your body, so I wasn't exactly straining anything that had already been strained (the bedsprings notwithstanding, but they don't count; they only creak). I like the slap of flesh against flesh. I like the way I can grasp at her back and hold her sides. I like the way I can look down at her whole body during sex. I also like the way she collapses with a little lustful sound when neither of us can take any more. Which, duly, she did.

And so we spent our early evening. And then we read Watchmen and did sewing and other things before watching Eurovision (kitsch, as ever), complete with picnic.

However much noise we made, however, I'm pretty sure we weren't the only couple having some fun that night. A pair of newlyweds turned up at breakfast the following morning, and what that must have been like, I've no idea...

Wednesday, 13 May 2009

Refugee

So, I'll admit it. I've not had the best of times recently, even if I have been playing incessant Literati and talking through relationship confusions with girl readers in America (for a guy with an interesting life, I'm really quite boring, n'est-ce pas?). TD has been away and even though she's back in the wonderful greyness of the UK now, I've had minimal contact with her during her absence. 47 has retreated into a shell due to circumstances both unforeseen and unexplained. I played a gig on Sunday but that was brief and surrounded by revision for the horrifying exam I had this morning which was so surprising in its obscurity, even Chris Tarrant would be bemused.

Oh, and the first page of a comic I wrote has been art'd up, and it's great to (finally!) see that, too.

I haven't written in ILB for a while, but I've been following the goings-on of my Twitter every day at least once or twice, and it's great. I've come to the realisation that I use ILB as a sort of escapism. In my humdrum everyday life (and yes, I am talking about work/college here), I have to be squeaky clean, and that just isn't me. I'm not totally a sex-obsessed boy, but yes, my main interest is matters of the heart; ergo, ILB is probably the closest to the real me you'll get, even if I am a multi-faceted guy.

This blog has been my route of escaping for a long time now, and considering the fact that I'm actually escaping into myself, that seems strange, because (unlike a surprisingly large number of people) I don't really like me all that much, and yet this side of me - the one that falls in love and has sex - is the side I do like. So, all in all, when I type in ILB, I'm not trying to prove anything to anyone.

I'm just blocking out life for a while.

Monday, 11 May 2009

365 Rotations

Hey hey hey! As of today, I have now been attached for one year! This is interesting news, seeing as how I didn't think I'd ever be attached, never mind for one whole year. Bizarre!

And so, as I can't really think of anything else to do to mark the occasion without making everyone vomit, LINKDUMP!

The opening stages:
Justify (the first day)
Don't Wanna Die (one of the best days)
Week Without Wanking (the one where everyone twigs)

The love posts:
Rain (it's about kisses)
Flutter (it's about hope)
Coffee, Cake and Love (it's about a journey)
Romantik (it's in London)

The sex posts:
Sleepy, frisky, tentative and passionate... (good-morning sex)
The Edge of Vanilla (light bondage sex)
Public Display of Attention (public orgasm #1)
Je t'adore (le sexe en fran├žais
)
Again! Again! (public orgasm #2)
From the Gutter Theatrical (naughty play-watchers)
Watchme(n) (public orgasm #3)

And EVERYTHING ELSE:
Presence in Sleep (whimsy)
Helpful Boyfriend is Helpful (I'm helping!)
seduction: ur doin it rong (lol!)
It's My Valentine's (holiday reminiscences)

And, of course:
Best. Post. Ever.

I'll write a real post at some point soon, but for now, enjoy my above writings if you're that starved for entertainment.

Saturday, 9 May 2009

Someone should pay me for advertising.

Weird. A mere few days after I make a post about online hentai games and they post this - possibly the best web-accessible one ever made. Certainly one of the longest. With the greatest amount of sex in it, too. And, best of all, one of the characters looks almost exactly like my beloved Drinker.

What more could a boy ask for? Really.

Thursday, 7 May 2009

Roleplay

"Was that an orgasm?" I said, as I surfaced from between her legs.
She affirmed with a moan.
"Thank goodness," I replied. "I should think you deserved one after that ordeal you went through."
There was a slight pause.
"It's a good thing that I managed to save you from those pirates," I continued after my brain whizzed into action. "Because who knows what they might have done if I hadn't succeeded? I had to fight them all off, and that would have been horrendous..."
I paused.
"Wait a minute, are you Dr. ______'s daughter?"
"Yes," she said, quietly.
"But that's amazing! You've been missing for ages! It's been in all the newspapers... they said pirates had got you, but I had no idea it was you I was rescuing!"
She blinked her eyes. Her legs were still wide open...
"Besides," I said, "I'd have rescued anyone, but since I saw your picture..."
There was a very heavy pause.
"I've wanted to do this for a long time," I said, penetrating her deeply as I felt a shiver pass through my entire body.

Wednesday, 6 May 2009

Heathrow Sexpress

OK, so this entry isn't actually about sex, but while I have your attention, you may as well go ahead and read it... it's very interesting... go on, read it, will you? Thanks.

So... a couple of days ago I extended an invitation to TYD to come and visit me over one night and the following day. Just a usual visitation - even somewhat longer than what we've been used to recently, so I was looking forward to it. Due to annoying gamily-related mix-ups we had to meet a little later than planned, ergo: I was headed towards London Paddington with the aim to relax avec a cup of Joe while waiting for my other half. Not exactly taxing. However, while heading down the stairs towards the main station, my bladder got the better of me, and I decided that I really needed to go to the toilet.

I resent paying 30p for the toilet (ta Boris). "Easy," I thought, "I'll just hop on a train and use one. Free." I've done that a few times beforehand, anyway. I saw that the platform next to me had a train leaving in 30 minutes, so I thought that was enough time. Well, you can see where this is going, can't you?

Got onto the train, and went to exploit the toilets, then after I'd finished, I stepped out of the toilet... and my heart stopped. The train had started moving.

I'd got on the wrong train.

I wasn't even supposed to be on a train.

I asked the shocked-looking couple with a baby where the train was going. Heathrow Airport, they assured me. This was the Heathrow Express. Fine, that's the train I was going to use in any case... but it had started going and, according to the couple, it was going all the way there without stopping.

"NO! NO! NO!" I yelled, hammering my fist against the door. I powered down the carriages, hoping to meet a conductor or something, maybe someone able to stop the train while we were still at the station. "DAMN, DAMN, DAMN, DAMN!" I ran all the way to the driver's door and even hammered on it before I noticed that it was an alarmed door and therefore probably led not to the driver but to another section of the train or the engine room or something.

I'm not very good in panic situations. Well, not my own. Other people's, yes.

OK, by this time I knew I wasn't going to be at Paddington to pick up TD, and that was what I feared most right then and there. The kindly passenger who picked me up asked if my problem was with trains - and that couldn't be further from the truth, I love travelling... just not travelling which takes me far away from where I was meant to be. I was in no mood to enjoy the view and I didn't want to call TD because it would be unlikely to make her laugh much.

Eventually a conductor came 'round, at which point three passengers told her simultaneously about my predicament (it was clear that I was in a predicament, as I was white and shaking. As if I wasn't pale enough.) - I'd neglected to tell them that I wanted to use the Heathrow Express' toilets; I told them that I'd got on the wrong train, which was true enough. I certainly wasn't where I wanted to be, anyway.

15 minutes passed and we pulled into a futuristic tunnel miles away from where I was supposed to be. The kindly passengers and politely baffled conductor actually showed me the way to the platform from where the next train to Paddington was departing from. This was the point TD called to tell me that she was there, and I had to admit that I wasn't.
"It's a funny story really," I stammered.
I resigned myself to the fact that I'd be relating the shole tale whenever (if) I ever got back into London, and was ushered back onto the trains - 'no charge' according to the guards - and ready for another 15 minutes in the company of the free BBC News broadcast and weather. Predicting hot, but dull.

I eventually got back to Paddington, and ran around trying to find TD, fearing that she'd got pissed off waiting and had gone back to Oxford (I have irrational fears). She wasn't anywhere to be seen, so I panicked there, too. Eventually, after about three times ringing her, she rang me, and we convened in front of the entrance to the Underground. But I was still a little shaky.

Nevertheless, it'll be an interesting thing to tell my grandchildren. And the pasta bake that I'd made was a nice thing to come home to after all that...

Saturday, 2 May 2009

Weekend Plans

"What are you doing this weekend?"
"I'm... well, essay, probably."
"Anything else?"
"No, I have nothing else to do."
"I'm going to work now."
"Yes, I know."
"I'm going to be all alone tonight."
"Where are your parents?"
"They've gone to Leicester."
"Oh yes."
*pause*
"Well, do you want me to come and see you?"
"Do you want to?"
"Yes, of course I want to."
"Okay, come over and I'll cook you a meal and we can watch a film."
"You don't need to cook."
"I'll cook something, though."
"Okay, that would be great."
"Can you get here around 4?"
"I'm not doing anything, so yes."
"Right."
"Right."

Sorted.