Sexy Time: Date Night

Oh, before we get started, I wanted to mention that I’m guest posting over at The Little Hen House about sex anxiety.  I KNOW!  So go check me out there!

My friend John joins us today.  I had prepared an intro, wrote some words about how he ROCKS MY SOCKS OFF but then I got his post and well, he did it for me.  Without further ado may I present his genius:

I write smut.  Every now & then, I try to dress it up & say that I write “erotic fiction” but that’s just putting lipstick on a pig.  I write smut.  I enjoy writing smut. And, apparently, my readers enjoy reading the smut I write.  So, I’m proud to write smut.  It started as a release, then a “well, let me actually journal an experience or two,” then it was “if I had made this decision on that night, maybe this would have happened,” and now it’s a beast all of it’s own.

When I was first asked to guest post for this highly-reputable blog, I figured I’d try to keep things nice & clean.  I wanted to take some time to address the portion of my audience who tries to analyze why they enjoy reading my kinkier stories.  The answer, though, is simple, and hardly worth an entire guest blog post.  There is a segment of my readership who spends all day making decisions . . . stay-at-home-moms, working-moms, single women.  There’s something addictive about making the decision to turn over the decision making – saying “fuck it, you know what, I trust you, use me,” and then going from there.

Then I wanted to talk about the actual writing process.  I write a lot, in the second person, as the “top” in a BDSM coupling.  The reason for this, though, is one of simplicity.  When I’m the one “doing,” the story fills itself out as I put more detail about my actions.  This lets you, my reader, fill in the gaps about what you might be feeling if some hot guy (note: my actual level of attractiveness varies, significantly, based on your blood-alcohol content) were doing these things to you.  Every now & then, I’ll switch things up, and write from the submissive, but I always feel these are lacking a certain something.  “From the bottom,” it’s all about what you’re feeling, not necessarily what’s being done to you – and that’s simply, a whole lot harder to write about. The rule of “write what comes easiest” is really a good rule for blog writing.

Next I thought about the role of porn in a good relationship.  Obviously, any time that something external starts becoming more important than the actual relationship members, well, that’s a bad thing.  However, reading / watching porn?  I’d venture to say that it’s not just fine, but should be encouraged.  Wait – a guy saying “more porn”? You must be shocked!  Well, follow me here.  One thing I’ve found is that it’s really, really damn difficult to determine what your fantasies might be if you have trouble putting yourself into new situations in your mind.  That escape is important – and can really lead to wonderful things between you and your partner(s).  Nevermind that, within the confines of my own imagination, everything is possible.  No position is out of the realm of possibility, my stamina is perfect, the sex never need be “icky”.  Real is what I say it is.

Nothing gets me hotter than knowing that a beautiful woman “used” my blog.  At the same time, nothing makes me smile more than when I hear that something I wrote either brought something new to somebody’s bedroom experience or “fixed” things in the sack for an hour or so.  And, honestly, while part of me writes because I like the creative process (and, um, the self-gratification side-effects from writing this damn stuff), that the work is enjoyed is easily the reason why I make it available.  Hearing that it’s enjoyed makes me want to write more.

Then, I thought, wait – I’m a smut writer, let me just write smut.

Your knock comes fewer than ten minutes after I text “room 116,” before I had a chance to even change out of my suit.  Honestly, I thought maybe it was the front desk.  I open the door and find your face.  My world is simply a better place when our lips are touching, when our tongues feeling each other, when my hands are on you.  We kiss and kiss and kiss.  I take a breath and attack your face once again, sucking on your bottom lip as I hold you tighter to me, my fingers slowly tracing down your back, my fingertips massaging as they move.

You break the kiss, gasping, and I use that opportunity to bend my head down to find your neck, kissing straight down from your ear, finding *that spot* on the back of your neck, just at the hair line.  I feel your fingernails run into my back as you slide a leg between mine, getting to the point where your knee presses against my erect cock, straining to be released from my suit.  I cup your ass in both hands and lift.  Once I have you off the ground, your legs wrap around my torso and your arms wrap around my head.  We continue our oral tug of war.  After a few minutes with you fully off the ground, I turn and throw you to the bed.  You look up at me and growl.

I kneel on the end of the bed and lie down on top of you, my fingers working under your t-shirt, my right hand massaging your left breast through your bra as our lips again meet.  Your arms work themselves around my body and I force you on top of me, our lips never separating.  My left hand joins its twin under your shirt and I lift your shirt, you taking the care to ensure that the garment doesn’t rip.  As you look down at me, bra-clad, I grab each of the straps and force them over your shoulders, releasing “the girls.”  Between each thumb & forefinger, I grab and tug a nipple before sitting up and taking your left breast in my mouth, sucking and nibbling the nipple as your breathing comes more and more scattered..

I reach behind your back and unclasp the undergarment, throwing it to the side, as my mouth finds the other breast, licking the underside then kissing my way up until I have your right nipple between my lips and I feel it grow hard.  You push down on my shoulders and unbutton my dress shirt, running your fingernails over my chest, pinching my own nipples, forcing me to gasp.

You crawl off of me to help take off my shirt, and I stand as you tug on the shirttail.  I push my shirt over my shoulders, throwing it across the room.  You hurriedly unbutton your fly and my hands help you push your jeans down to your feet.  Lying nude before me, you watch as I undo my own fly, my cock springing forward as soon as I release it from the prison that was my pants.  I leap.

Again, we match lips as I place my penis into you.  Kissing, we fuck – I pump, slowly, in and out, my lips locked on yours.  I bite your upper lip and your legs embrace my hips, locking behind me.  I push myself fully into you, hold, retreat, and then hammer my hips into yours.  Again and again – all of the way in, hold, retreat, and then hammer back in.  I feel your fingernails working their way into my back and I start pumping faster.  Elation strikes me and I arch my back, continuing to pump, to fuck.  Your legs hold my hips tight to you and you press yourself against me.  ”Oh god oh god oh god” you say between shallow breaths, your hips convulsing against me.

With my mouth, I dive, kissing your neck once again, my hands working their way to your breasts.  As your breathing grows increasingly shallow, your moans gaining in pitch, I lick from your neck to your ear, biting the lobe.  I feel you try to crush my hips between your thighs as I push my hips against yours.  You hold me with your legs and arms and I press my cock as far into you as I can and then you release.  In a wave, from your core on out, you relax.

I force my tongue into your mouth and resume my pumping, slow and steady.  I raise my right hand to your hair, running my fingers through it as I feel *that* feeling starting in my toes.  ”Oh, fuck,” I exclaim, looking you in the eyes, as I continue pumping into and out of you when I release.  I feel my seed spill into you and I continue to fuck.  What was already warm and wet continuing – just as warm and that much wetter.  When I feel my erection finally starting to fail, I push myself fully into you and, again, kiss you.

Finally withdrawing, I collapse next to you, my fingertips tracing your right side, before circling over your right nipple and tugging on it just a bit.  You turn to cuddle, taking that perch in my left armpit as you fit so properly.  I caress you for minutes, my fingertips simply running over your body, through your hair, caressing your temples, over your ear lobe, massaging the back of your neck, the back of your shoulder, down your spine.  You shift, going “ass up” to give me better access for a back rub.  I have different plans.

I stand and walk to your feet.  Placing your left foot in my hand, I massage the ball of your foot.  As you close your eyes to enjoy the footrub, though, I place a leather cuff around it, securing it to the foot of the bed.  You watch over your shoulder as I repeat with your right foot, leaving you “ass-up, spread eagle”, bound in such a way to ensure that your feet are kept as far apart as possible.  Tracing your right leg with my fingertips, then your back, shoulder, and arm, I lift your right hand, kissing the fingers, before reaching under the bed to pull out another leather cuff.  I secure it.  And, of course, walking back around the bed, I secure your last limb in the same fashion.

Lying down on your left side, place my hand over your ass and spank.  Across both cheeks, in the area where “ass” becomes “leg,” I strike.  Time and time again, three, four five, six.  These aren’t terribly hard strikes, but the start warming you up.  You moan.

I get to my knees and spank your left ass cheek, harder than the previous spanks, and I continue until my handprint is obvious before me.  Then, with my left hand, I match the pattern on your other cheek.  With your ass a brilliant shade of pink, I trace my handprint with my fingertips, noticing that your hips are gyrating, seemingly on their own.  With my middle finger, I reach between your legs, my middle finger reaching into your still very wet hole.  I finger, toy with you for minutes, watching your hips try to move to get more of my fingers inside you.  I relish the frustration I sense.  I place two fingers fully into you and you start fucking them, hungrily.

When your hip gyrations force my fingers fully into you, I make them rigid, making sure I hit your g-spot as you fuck my digits and then spank you with my left hand.  Each time your pussy tries to swallow me, a hard strike over your ass.  Alternating between your cheeks, I continue finger fucking and spanking, watching your hands as I can tell you’re nearing your limits.  Finally, see your hands truly trying to reach out and stop me as your hips stay still…I keep my fingers inside you but stop striking your ass.  Once you realize that the strikes have stopped, your hips again start moving to swallow my fingers as I reach across your body and unclasp your far wrist, then your near wrist.

As soon as you have your arms free, you turn to me to hug me, forcing my fingers out of you.  I hug, kiss your lips, and stand, reaching down to unbind your legs.  Once you’re free, I, again, lie down next to you, tracing your back with my fingertips, kissing your shoulder.  I kiss on down your back, flicking my tongue over the angry red blotches covering your ass.  I knead my fingers over your upper back as you moan, and then I lick my way back up your spine.

When our heads are at the same level, I lie down next to you, and you turn up on your side.  I kiss the back of your neck and press my body against your back.  My fingers reaching around to find your nipples, I take them between my fingers, my lips working, massaging, licking, nibbling behind your neck. From the spoon position, I wrap both of my arms around you, my hips against your rear end.  Slowly, you feel my erection returning . . . my member pressing against your back.  Once I’m fully hard, I quickly pull back and then press my hips against you, my cock splitting your ass cheeks, pressing up against *that* hole before the tip finds it’s way into the wetness between your legs.

Finally breaking my kissing of the back of your neck, I arch my back and slide myself into you.  Again, we fuck.  My right leg wrapping around yours, intertwining as much as they can as I slide fully into you.  You move your upper body so as to best position me.  I slide into you, running my hands down your back as we both continue along the road to ecstasy.  You start violently meeting my hips with reverse thrusts of your own as I come once again.  Pushed fully into you, I release as I feel tiny little convulsions meeting my member.  Again, I run my fingers all along your back.

Once my erection retreats, we again spoon, simply holding each other. Lots of kisses, lots of massaging touches.  I start nibbling your ear, making sure my breathing breaches the crest, just as I know that drives you crazy.

“So, who’s watching the kids?” I ask.

“Your sister,” you respond.  ”She expects you to pick them up by 6.”

“Fuck, it’s 5:30 now,” I retort, hopping out of bed, stumbling over myself as I gather my clothing from the random corners that things were strewn.
“We have the room all night, right?” you ask, winking at me.  “I’m going to lie down for a bit, watch ‘Say Yes to the Dress’ and maybe nap for a little while.  Let’s see, dinner, then bath time, then bed time . . . I’ll be back around midnight.” you say through a smile, wrapping yourself in the blanket covers as I continue hurriedly dress, stumbling about the room.

“Oh, and this sure as fuck beats any other date night we’ve tried” you smirk as I leave the door.

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