Gluttonous Woman


Oh look at you!
You’re not an enigma so much anymore
But a Sunday crossword

Let him take a look at you
You know he’s a shark bobbing in water
Waiting for first blood

It’s no longer an imagination
You’re at the pinnacle of a tiny death
How easy the gain is when your body breathes and blazes

There’s no longer a battle when your hands are down by the waist
His kisses depressurize your face
Your God can’t save you from the orgasm of your gluttonous demeanor

The tides climb higher and higher
Hands rub: a special seasoning; you’re at the brink of the moon
A candle light flicks on a seed furiously

And a seven inch fishes out in the sea
You burst the milk out of white


Seeking Comfort: As If The Orgasm Will Ease Her Troubles.

(for Karen)

I don’t want to play it cool.
I don’t want to kiss you.
I don’t want the smell of your saliva on my neck.
In the back of my head I want some head.
But I rather settle and rub:
Fabric to fabric.
Come on and show me some love.
I need 4 minutes on earth.
I could have the rest in heaven.
I want worth in sensation.
But without guilt, without curse.
I know my boyfriend is in jail.
And he doesn’t need to know.
Let’s go with the flow,
While I cum on my panties like snow.


Gym Sex!

There are times when I feel the tug and pull of both my conservative and liberal side when it comes to sex.  It’s both a curse and a blessing.  Just like beauty.  Or never being able to live in complete ignorance after learning about the truth.  Sometimes I’m painstakingly annoyed, downright disgusted and put off by the petite signals of sex.  Other times I’m upfront, bully or pressure for it and have even physically punched and kicked my partners due to the rejection of sex.  But on this particular night I was in need of some sexual action and not having to wait until I went home to get my first fix.  Plus I always wanted to have sex in my first home:  The Gym.

And so it began..

I was in a bout of hypersexual quickie mode where everything seem to be out of the fucking ordinary like orgasming unexpectedly from what I consider a difficult position (for me).  And though I didn’t bless any Bench, Swiss Ball or Nautilus Machine.  I found my experience to be pleasantly received.  Excitement came from everywhere, whether it was making sure gym members were out of the building or mulling over a secluded spot with nobody knowing what was to occur.  I was living within the moment, carefree as a social butterfly with a raging throb that kept pulling my attention below which rushed over me as I stopped my partner every few feet to innocently kiss him and snuggle his bulge with palmela.

With employees roaming around the building and the lights out except for the emergency ones that glittered streaks of red and whitish blue.  I grabbed my partner by the hand giggling like I won a plush toy at a carnival with a sun smile on my face guiding him into the darkened  women’s locker room carefully.  There’s always been something both strangely calm and dirty about having sex in the biggest stall of a gym.  I didn’t waste any time as I lowered my pants to my ankles while he kissed the back of my neck and massaged all my hills and curves the way I adore.  My heart was racing from the possibility of getting caught, legs tangled in anxiety bliss, middle moist with love and devotion.

I turned around to kiss him heavily on the lips to spill the pleasure he was giving to me with his hand on my ruby seed.  Willingly I unbuckled his belt, unbutton THE button, unzipped it as now was his turn to lower the cockblocking pants.  But the fun part came when I held onto the handicapped rail.  I half-way bent over with one hand mushing the wall for better balance.  Then tilting my head towards the side I can see hands fumbling, body shifting and hear his moistening the rod business to prepare for demand.

The first few strokes typically are the most painful for me.  But not tonight.  My pumpkin was ready and it swallowed him whole while I got up on my tippy-toes to add to the height and arch and awe of it all.  As our moans filled the air and the nervousness of sweat clung onto the fabric of our clothes, I took in, how his firm grip felt on my hips, how he pulled me in smoothly and how he strummed my pink hard seed all at the same time.  Probably the best feeling was the combination of how my calves were burning hell from being raised as I mimicked his rhythm and pace faithfully while he pumped me with sweet exaltation.

With all my senses lit, pumpkin contracted harder and harder.  Clamming down on my partner’s screwdriver while my clitoris was jerked heavenly upon.  My abdominals started to clench into what felt like a double crunch, my hand hanging onto the edge of the handicap rail trying to hold on.  But my body language deteriorated into a slump as I couldn’t contain my powerful sneak attack orgasm.  I convulsed with each stroke as he drove home deeper and deeper with a much fuller force.  He was more than close and my calves were championing between fierce blaze and a maddening cramp contraction.

No more deepened inhalations, only shallow gasps and slight gulps.  His elation was ready to spill over just in the jizz of time as I was about to dip into my lazy mode with my powerful orgasm and passion energy well spent.  He pulled out.  His aura felt like thunder as he came remarkably strong.  And on a final note:  Between you and I, let’s just say there wasn’t a mess the housekeeper had to clean the next morning. 😉


Because Through The Bullshit It Still Rings True!

So I shit on him and talk negatively about our situation regularly.  I don’t mention all the details.  Not to say that I’m wrong and he’s right or that I may not be overreacting during the time my Little Red Riding Hood friend of the month appears.  But no one can know the whole truth without living in my shoes.  No one can know all the details because than my blog will be non-stop like the slop you left openly in the toilet after last night’s burrito came out your ass with peppery fire and a slight tear full of promise that:  “I will never eat this again!”

But then what you do?

I don’t leave much privacy for him or me.  Although I don’t flat go about giving our home addresses and how you can go about meeting us for more intimate or not-so-intimate details of our Life.  All in all what the card says rings true when it comes to him (despite my grudges, ongoing hatred and shoot in the foot shotgun resentment).  Eight years of being with one partner (no matter how on and off) can do wonders for your sex life or take away from it (from time to time).

There are things you never knew existed sexually.  Or even what it was like making love under a moonlight, feeling closer to heaven while for the first time in your Life experience(d) what it was actually like to have Meaningful Sex with someone you adore and cherish deeply.  I thought it didn’t exist!  *bangs head hard on wall*  There are things one wouldn’t care for BUT suddenly do!  Like getting your salad tossed and getting fingered and your clitoris massaged at the same time because nothing says I love you better than multiple orgasms! Then there are things you become aware of.. like if you two depart, well, good fucking luck finding this “service and decor” you had in your new partner.