Saturday, June 28, 2008

red rain - tres

Shifting twisting the fog around us was coiling boiling....
Enveloping enclosing in it's tendrils tight.....
Pushed to the ground the shadow's arms around me did surround....
Caressed my skin hot like balm in it's cool embrace I luxuriated randy and calm....
~Desolation Angel

The low frequency sound of thunder grumbled overhead making the ground shudder in unison. The leaves of the large oak tree trembled and huddled together as she continues to run her tongue up and down my rigid cock. She hums in unison with the thunder sending spikes of pleasure plunging deep into my balls. A groan escapes my lips. My knees start to buckle and she moans again.

"Can you taste me? Can you taste my pre-cum leaking into your mouth my little bitch?"

She moans in response as she works her talent. She is massaging my balls with her fingertips. Her lips glide up and down my shaft as smooth as a well oiled machine. Tongue, lips, teeth spit, rain. A hedonistic cacophony of pleasure and gratification. My little cocksucker has a talent no other man will ever experience. I jam my cock harder into her mouth.

"Suck it my little cocksucker. Suck it harder. Flick your tongue across the head...aghh! just like that...yes, yes..."

Sheet lightning pulsates behind storm clouds, throwing monotone colours across a million miles of angry sky. The garden lights up briefly, shadows from the tree, the shrubs, the fence dance rapidly across the lawn almost in desperation before the world grows dark again. In that translucent instant, I pull away from her using her long hair for leverage. My cock slips out of her warm mouth with a soft plop and she squeals in shock and impertinent protest.

What is it about blow jobs that fascinates man? what is it about the act of a woman taking a cock into her mouth that causes men to grow harder? is it the sight of your hard cock plunging back and forth between her lips? We are taught at an early age that a penis is dirty. It has but one primary function. We are raised on a constant barrage of warnings and castigations: "wash your penis", "clean your penis", "do not play with your winky Albert, not in front of the nice lady".
Or could it be that for the most part this act requires her to be on her knees? an ultimate act of subjugation and submission. This is the same mouth that tastes so sweet when she kisses you on your lips, the same mouth from which the words "I love you" flows so breathlessly and easily. The same lips that when curved into a smile, lights up her eyes and brightens your day. And yet here she is, muddied and wet, cold and shivering, matted hair wrapped around her neck like a noose, kneeling before you as you overpower her with your manhood, tasting you, sucking you, licking you.

She has this trick where she slurps me into her mouth, clamps her lips tightly at the base and draws back, tugging gently as if to draw my sticky thick cum into her eager mouth. The combined sensation of the tip of my cock tickling the back of her throat together with her pulling action, almost always sends me into paroxysms of pleasure. It is the most incredible feeling and she gets better at it the more often she does it. I like to think that I have power over her. That I can resist her administrations, that I will cum only when I want to.

Lightning flashed again, electric sheets snapping across the sky. Thunder clapped in approval at the display and the trees bent and swayed to the concert. The power of nature acted out in it's all glory, her stage this vast universe. But below on this sodden earth, two figures gyrate and twist in a lecherous dance for power. My knees tighten and buckle at the same time. She grins up at me in the falling rain. She knows that I almost climaxed. Almost spurted my cum into her waiting mouth, the creamy fluid sloshing against her cheeks, coating her tongue. She knows I cannot resist her if she wanted her own way. She is aware that even kneeling before me, I am at her mercy when her soft tongue flickers across the sensitive head of my cock, teeth that tug at the loose foreskin, lips that tighten around the base.
She rocks back on her haunches, a grin curling her lips. I bring my hand down across her cheek. And even as her head snaps sideways, her long hair whipping like a tail, I hear her laugh in the darkness. It has only just begun...

Friday, June 27, 2008

the balls of satan

Die Eier von Satan

Eine halbe Tasse Staubzucker
Ein Viertel Teelöffel Salz
Eine Messerspitze türkisches Haschisch
Ein halbes Pfund Butter
Ein Teelöffel Vanillenzucker
Ein halbes Pfund Mehl
Einhundertfünfzig Gramm gemahlene Nüsse
Ein wenig extra Staubzucker
... und keine Eier

In eine Schüssel geben
Butter einrühren
Gemahlene Nüsse zugeben und
Den Teig verkneten

Augenballgroße Stücke vom Teig formen
Im Staubzucker wälzen und
Sagt die Zauberwörter
Simsalbimbamba Saladu Saladim

Auf ein gefettetes Backblech legen und
Bei zweihundert Grad für fünfzehn Minuten backen und

Bei zweihundert Grad für fünfzehn Minuten backen und Keine Eier ..

Sunday, June 22, 2008

salacious sunday

And Satan stood up...and provoked David... And David said unto God, I have sinned greatly, because I have done this thing...

I Chronicles 21: 1,8

Friday, June 20, 2008

casual conversations #2,176

"Cum for me baby"
"Cum all over these pretty lips"
Looking down at the top of her head,her hair shimmering in the sun pouring in from the open door to my right. Her fingers casually stroking my soaked balls and her full lips wrapped around my erect cock. Her eyes half closed...
...did I have a choice?

Thursday, June 19, 2008

this is my life - breasts


Large Breasts
Average Breasts
Small Breasts
All Natural Breasts
I do not like augmented breasts - breasts with implants. They don't do anything but simply lay there, like up-ended flower pots, roots growing along the sides.

I like saying the word Breasts.
I love watching Breasts bounce.
I smile at the way the top of a woman's Breasts jiggle happily under a tight bra
I enjoy watching a woman's Breasts sway under a soft blouse.
I like to bury my face in the space between a woman's breasts and breathe in her scent. The aroma goes straight to my head-makes me dizzy with lust and passion.
I love to fondle Breasts
I love to squeeze Breasts
I love to grope.
I love to suckle, and I certainly like to bite them.
I like to stand behind my woman, reach around and tug on her nipples as I fondle her breasts. I like to feel her press against me, her head thrown back, so I can nuzzle on her extended neck while I look down at my hands.

I like to watch my woman's breasts bound up and down as she's lying on her back, her legs wrapped around me, her arms pinned above her head.

I like the sensation of her breasts, nipples softly scraping against my skin, as she straddles me.

I like to cup her breasts from behind as she's on her hands and knees, her nipples engorged and hard, with the weight pushing into my palms.

I like to reach down while she's between my knees, so I can roll her nipples between my thumb and forefinger and pinch them so I can hear her sharp intake of breath.

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

red rain - duae

We are drenched within seconds of stepping outside into the torrential rain. She drops my hand to run into the middle of the lawn, arms outspread like wings. Steam rises from the scorched earth like marionettes performing a macabre dance, twisting and writhing in the dark bringing life back into the moisture starved green. She spins around, her face enshrouded by her long matted hair. Her clothes are completely soaked by now and they hug the curves of her body wrapped like a second skin around her. Her skirt wrinkled and soaked cling to her legs like leeches sucking tenderly at her skin.

I walk up to her, squinting against the falling drops, grinning at her frivolous enthusiasm to catch her mid-spin. She laughs, child-like, infectious - a playful spirit dances in her eyes. She slumps against me. Her soft breasts push against my chest and she wraps her arms around my neck. Our lips touch, she opens hers ever so slightly - an invitation, and I flick my tongue into her mouth. Electric sparks ignite as our tongues seek each other with urgency, water flowing past the corners of our mouths. Surrounded by the the drone of the rain striking the roof and trees we allow our tongues to dance, our hands to wander. I run my hands down her back even as my tongue seeks further inside her mouth. I slide my hands down to cup her buttocks through the soaked cloth. My fingers probe the recess of her buttocks slipping with abandoned ease into the hot crevice of her cunt. Our lips mash together with the urgency of our kiss and I feel her fingers lock into my hair, pulling my face harder towards hers. Deeper yet my finger slips, working it's way into her already slippery sex. I grind my hips into her rubbing my stiffening cock against her crotch.

Finally we break apart, gasping for breath. My hands are on her breasts and I squeeze them roughly, desperately seeking for her nipples beneath the slippery blouse. She pushes away from me and drops to her knees, her knees splashing onto the saturated earth. Eager hands fumble with my belt, the buttons, finally pulling down the waistband to reach in and draw out my hard member. Her wet hands make me shiver and my cock trembles inside her fist, slippery as a fish. She looks up at me. She is a spectral shade, a supplicant about to receive the holy spirit. Her eyes are as bright as stars and as wicked as a pixie in a wild English garden. Brimming with passion and filled with a dark urgency, she blinks rapidly in the falling rain, her long eye lashes glistening in the muted light. She extends her tongue, so pink in the inky darkness, places my cock on it as if to accept the Host, closes her lips around the head and slides it into her warm mouth with a soft sucking sound...

Monday, June 16, 2008

random musings #1,034

There is a sign on the inside of all the washroom doors at work. It says, "Please wash hands before leaving". The sign is also stamped in Braille. How would a blind person know there is a sign on the inside of the door? and what if this person was to read it before they washed their hands?

Don't you just hate it when there's a pubic hair caught in your toothbrush?
and you only realize it when it scrapes against the back of your throat as you brush.

Thursday, June 12, 2008

passing fancy regular haunt permanent lair

"Interesting site, we will see if it is a passing fancy of myself or a regular haunt. Hats off, indeedly, very well done, thank you for killing some my time...Might even earn a hot spot, damn nice.....again..."
(June 12, 2006)

Two years of


























Happy Anniversary baby. Here's to a lifetime of shared memories and a warm bed.

Sunday, June 8, 2008

salacious sunday

For there is no faithfulness in their mouth.
Their heart is destruction.
Their throat is an open tomb.
They flatter with their tongue.
~Psalm 5, IX

Monday, June 2, 2008

copperhead bells

Tears stream down her cheeks barely visible in the muted light of a multi-coloured scarf thrown over the bedside lamp. Pinned down by my weight and tethered to the metal head board by an old black tie, her body lurches beneath me as she sobs into her arm. I place the small whip down and run my hands across her breasts. Her nipples are pointed and stiff but she twitches with each pass of my hand. A flush of darker colour crawls across the sides of her breasts like virus in a Petri dish, marring her perfect milky white flesh. The small bell on her ankle tinkles merrily in the dark room, an incongruous contrast to the desecration taking place.
Leaning forward to undo the knots at her wrists, my cock brushes against her half-open mouth, caressing her lips like a kiss. Her glazed eyes stare intently at the moist tip but she dare not move her head-either away or towards it. I know she wants nothing more than to lift her head and slip me into her mouth, to taste me, to swirl her tongue across the head, to tighten her lips along the length of my shaft. But she has no permission...

She's colouring her hair. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror the next day, she methodically applies the concoction to her long hair. There is a list of Golden Rules that she must abide. Rule #1: she shall not cut her hair more than 2" at a time. The mixture oozes out of the bottle a deep shade of purple smearing across scalp and forehead. It is not the colour she desires and we both laugh as I use a damp towel to wipe away the overspills. Her eyes flick down to her upraised arms and I follow her gaze.
The bruises under her arms and across her breasts almost mirror the colour of the dye being squeezed into her hair. I smirk as I slip my hands from behind cupping her breasts.
"You are Mine"

Sunday, June 1, 2008

salacious sunday

O ye sons of men,
how long will ye turn my glory into shame?
How long will ye love vanity,
and seek after leasing?
~Psalms IV, 2