quote:Originally posted by herbs: This has not helped me. I am, like Sidney, in a permanent state of horn. I haven't done sex since Saturday, and am frankly gagging for it
I haven't done sex in 5 (Non)FUCKING WEEKS and have at least two more weeks and a day to go. I am no longer merely gagging for it, but have reached a whole new level whereby every time by brain switches from the task in hand (fnar) it goes directly to sex without passing go or collecting Ģ200. I am almost priapic.
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Every night for the past two weeks, myself and Kellifer have smoked a joint and then had sex. This is... er... more than usual... It just seems to have that effect.
Our bed is a little unstable, so the sofa has become the location of choice. The window next to it is covered by a bamboo blind. A couple of days ago as I was returning home from work, I noticed that with a light on inside the room, you can see in very clearly. Oh dear. There are flats opposite with a rather direct line of sight. Oh dear.
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quote:Originally posted by herbs: Even when getting down to it, I can't say what I want. It's odd, considering I'm so mouthy generally. Any tips girls?
I am the same way - nice southern upbringing - has me,at first, shy as hell. There was a time in my life that I played by the 'rules' of society and waited for the guy/girl to initiate intimate contact. Kicked that habit a few years back. I have to say I am more of a 'leaning over and asking 'ready for that kiss now?' with a cheeky grin' type of gal. Still canīt do sexy. Still canīt do diva. I am the slightly repressed girl next door on a snogging fest. When you find out how to jump a guy and not turn three shades of crimson, lemme know?
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quote:Originally posted by MiscellaneousFiles: There are flats opposite with a rather direct line of sight. Oh dear.
I realised that the bamboo blind in the kitchen, the slightly-too-short and not quite meeting in the middle curtains in the living rom, the distinct lack of curtain at all in the other living room window, have all probably resulted in the people around the rest of the estate catching the odd glance of rhythmically moving flesh. Add to that the fact that there's regularly a different car outside my flat, the neighbourhood has probably made a reasonable assumption about me. Oh dear indeed.
Still, knowing that there's a possibility someone can see in does nothing to harm the excitment.
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quote:Originally posted by Grianagh: nice southern upbringing
There are girls without this handicap though. I remember a guy I worked with once telling us about his evening out the night before. He'd been with some mates to a nightclub and one of the other chaps had got off with a girl and was snogging her on the seat next to my workmate. He was getting a bit pissed off with his lack of fortune when the girl reached round, put her hand down the front of his trousers and started rubbing his cock, all the while still snogging his mate.
I don't meet those sort of girls, and they don't seem to post on here either. No hands free I suppose.
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posted
Misc, I loved the "Girl Who Smokes" fantasy.
(if you don't remember, there's a "girl who smokes" living across the way from Misc+Kel's flat. she just comes out onto her balcony, which can be seen from their front room, smokes a cigarette, in that sexy way that a chick on her own on a blacony smoking a cigarette naturally has, then goes back inside again. desk to the max.)
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quote:Originally posted by mart: *What do you people think about at those times when you need to "hold on for a bit longer" or avoid a getting a stiffy, or whatever?
This reminds me of a Modest Mouse song:
All Nite Diner
Yeah, yes, yes Have I told ya You could really get it on? I was at an all night diner The sign said, "Triple X" But they were talking about root beer I'm just sitting down Thinking about nothing Looking at the thin air Breathing up the oxygen Have I told ya You could really get it on? A guy comes up, looking pretty 8-ball Snaggletooth smile, sits down at my table Puts his arm around me, starts to share his information He said, he said, he said [x4] this is what he said "I have sex, I'm always thinking about the pavement So I can avoid premature ejaculation" I got up, remembering to thank him Better things to do so I'll start drinking I'm in Tahoka, now I'm gonna hook up With the parties, unfortunately No one has any ideas, damn Have I told ya You could really get it on?
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There are many captions I could insert here, but for once I'm being restrained.
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scrawny
One Mojito, two Gin and Tonics, Three Bacardi Lime Sodas, and a couple of pints of Stella please.
posted
What you need, ladies, is a boy who is so unbelievably rubbish (pre-bandy) at picking up any signs whatsoever that you might be interested in having a little kiss, let alone being slapped around and shagged hard in public wearing bondage gear, that you just get over your shyness in the name of frustration. I used to be like that, until I realised that subtle strokes on the wrist were not going to cut it. Now it's more along the lines of looking up from the TV and saying, "Get your cock out then..."
[ 05.12.2003, 07:49: Message edited by: scrawny ]
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quote:Originally posted by dang65: No hands free girl
That just reminded me, for some reason, of a rather sexy and strange taxi journey I had a few years ago. I'd been out drinking with a few friends and the five of us grabbed a black cab home, I jumped in first, so one of my friends was next to me, and one was in front of me. Both of them had been flirting with me quite a lot that evening, and it was very 'cosy' in the taxi, to say the least. The guy next to me had his arm round me, inside my coat, and was clearly feeling up my right breast, while at the same time the guy in front of me was leaning forward and had his hand running up and down the inside of my leg. It was and I really must stop thinking about sex and do some work.
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posted
I did not get mine from the clap-clinique. The local gay pub hands them out like after dinner mints. I told Char that if he did take some off me, to not sit on his wallet or he would glide off of the chair and onto the floor like his bones had been reduced to jelly.
My sexual thoughts right now are;
Blinfolded, asphyxiated lovely with a choker wrapped tightly around my right fist. My hand is slapping both cheekies from right to left and I am thrusting so quickly my cheeks are clapping a second out of time. Liquid silk is turning cold as it reaches my knee. Their head is banging violently against the steel headboard and the posters are creeking orgasmic joy.
posted
Shaved heads. Shaved heads are mmyeah. Just a thin film of tough dark bristles on the head, enough to tingle your skin as you push your fingers across, like rubbing your palm with a nailbrush. I have been on the lookout for boys with shaved heads. They are surprisingly rare.
There was one on tv. The programme was a drama about lesbians who write. Lesbians are nice, but not as nice as boys with shaved heads. He had a hairy chest as well as a shaved head. Hairy chests are mmyeah also. The effect of a shaved-head combined with an unshaved chest is the perfect boy for fucking. I felt my lips part and the cold air made my tongue shift. The lesbian wanted to have sex with the shaved-headed boy, and they were naked under the covers, but she decided she couldn't go through. So the shaved-headed boy asked if he could look at her face and wank himself off. And I thought, This was not supposed to happen. I was supposed to be watching lesbians and feeling clean and focused and not-horny. But now a shaved-headed boy was making fist-shaped jabs against the covers, and his head was tilting back and his mouth was opening and his tongue tip, his tongue tip, was, glinting -
Wow. I hadn't realised boys with shaved heads and hairy chests were so desirable. I have been wondering if there are any shaved-headed boys on TMO. I think there are none.
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posted
i spent three days sharing a double bed with a very hott german chick last week- for budgetary reasons, natch. it was a very big bed but even so i would wake up in the morning hanging onto to the mattress in an attempt not to make any physical contact with her. five weeks of enforced celibacy, followed by three fan-cooled stormy nights tussling for sheet space with a 5"11 blonde chick with the most lovely round bottom in christendom... gaaaarggghhh. help me jeebus.
i would like to contribute to this thread but am currently reading the golden notebook by doris lessing, which is not conducive to deskiness. it is making me think, thank god men have got better since 1962. also i am in an internet cafe and i have to catch a bus in twenty minutes. if i miss this bus because of a damn chisky thread...i will get you, scrawny.
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OK then. Picture the scene. Civilised dinner party for four in architect-re-modelled central London flat, bucket-sized glasses of red wine, jolly conversation about the evil of Starbucks. Certain stimulants are offered. The gentlemen retire to the kitchen, at one end of the room, to talk about each other. The lady of the house engages me in conversation. she admires my bracelet, brushing the inside of my wrist. She leans in, quite close, and looks at me, too long. Good herbs puts this down to cultural differences - she is American after all. Bad herbs feels a tightening in the chest, inside and out. Somehow we're on the sofa. The boys are still in the kitchen, positioned so neither can see the sofa. Her hand is on my back, where my top departs from my skirt. Her face is in front of mine, eyes dark. 'Have you ever been kissed by a woman before?' 'Er...' '*'. My bra is being admired. She asks me to go next door - the bedroom. How on earth did I get here? Have I been put under a spell? 'W-what about the boys?' The spell is broken.
Louche
Carved TMO on her clit just to make you feel bad
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Six weeks ago I worked for a wee private company employing four women and run by a balding, paunchy, sixty year old bloke.
For the last five weeks I have worked for a company with roughly 200 employees, roughly fifty fifty male/female. Said company has no dress down policy, so everyone comes to work in a suit.
I spent the first week of this job in a haze of hormones. Proximity to all those men, often my age, often with cute spiky boy haircuts. I'd sit in meetings staring at fair-haired forearms emerging from short sleeved shirts. That sheerly masculine curve of finger, the implicit strength in male hands. I'd be looking through thin white shirts for the suggestion of a pink and perky man-nipple, working out profusion or otherwise of chest hair. Watching tight, hard little arses in Marks and Spencer suits lean over the coffee machine. I was fascinated by thighs which filled out dark trousers, the movement of muscle required to swing out on a swingy out chair.
To be succinct, I have had the raging horn every day in this job and am locked into a fantastic fascination with the prevalence of nice bits on the male anatomy.
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posted
Honestly, I finish work at 2 and by the time I get to turning tmo back on it seems as if tmo has truly been turned on! *sigh* and lol@scrawny for thinking I was mentioning the couple-police in relation to her and as if I wouldn't have been doing it ironically anyway
posted
Yeah. He's gone now, so we can talk about him. She appears to be American. And ginner.
Bamba - can you post some more of your filth? I'm going to go on an exercise bike shortly, and your story, plus a little judicious leaning forward, should make the time just fly by.
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posted
He met her on Friendster which was thanks to meeeeeee and he's going to get me a big handful of fanzines from America as a thank you present! He doesn't know this yet.
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posted
Sex tips for girls Ladies, are you backwards about coming forwards? Want to make the first move but don't know how? Want the tips to find out how to flip his switch before he makes the move on you? There is only one simple fact that you need to remember. [gratuitous male objectification] If you're alone and together, he probably wants it. [/gratuitous male objectification]
A couple of pointers:
1. Follow through with a theme. Scenario number one: if you are a girl around town with business cards always carry them with you. It makes it so much easier when doing the swapping numbers/emails thang. If you're interested quite early on then don't waste time. When the subject of what you do for work comes up, talk about it enthusiastically and then say something along the lines of "Would it be cheeky if I gave you my card?" Whilst smiling saucily, and then quickly follow it up with "Incase you ever want to have a massage/need a secretary/want a writer/need a website built/insert relevant work related comment." Later, if its going well you can then come back with "Would it be cheeky if I gave you a kiss?" and if its going even better then try "Would it be cheeky if I took you to bed now?" You see where I'm going with that one? The beauty is that if at the first offering of the card, if he's not interested you can back out fairly easily by just pretending that you're a professional business woman who was just networking.
2. Scenario number two: You know he's interested, he knows you're interested. You've done the drinks, you're both nicely drunk, you're back at his place but he's faffing. While he's upstairs in his room changing the sheets on the bed (or whatever) come upstairs, remove all your clothes, stand there in your AP bra, best pants and hold-ups and say "Check this out!" If he doesn't respond to that then just laugh manically and pretend to pass out on the bed and sleep til morning when you can mumble apologies about being really drunk and make a hasty exit.
That's all for now ladies but be sure to tune in for next weeks edition on how to ask for kinky things when in a long term relationship!
quote:Originally posted by herbs: Bamba - can you post some more of your filth? I'm going to go on an exercise bike shortly, and your story, plus a little judicious leaning forward, should make the time just fly by.
I don't know that there's anything else I can say about that particular incident. I could dredge my memory for other erotic happenings but I seem to have done quite well so far and I know I'd only go and ruin it by posting something which inadvertently harshed everyone's boner. Boners can be fickle like that.
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quote:Originally posted by Boy Racer: I haven't done sex in 5 (Non)FUCKING WEEKS and have at least two more weeks and a day to go. I am no longer merely gagging for it, but have reached a whole new level whereby every time by brain switches from the task in hand (fnar) it goes directly to sex without passing go or collecting Ģ200. I am almost priapic.
Once I didn't do sex for 7 weeks - my longest drought EVA. I had serious trench foot by the end of it!
I have to go out now. This is a good thing I believe.
quote:Originally posted by Boy Racer: I haven't done sex in 5 (Non)FUCKING WEEKS and have at least two more weeks and a day to go. I am no longer merely gagging for it, but have reached a whole new level whereby every time by brain switches from the task in hand (fnar) it goes directly to sex without passing go or collecting Ģ200. I am almost priapic.
Once I didn't do sex for 7 weeks - my longest drought EVA. I had serious trench foot by the end of it!
I have to go out now. This is a good thing I believe.
By the time I get any it will have been 7 weeks. And this is not a drought, this is BY CHOICE, because I love my lady and don't want anyone else, although the German lady's bottom sounds very nice. And on that note - Disco, cheers for that and I've told you, not without me.
Less than 2 weeks to go now though.
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posted
Since when was 7 weeks a long time to go without sex? Jesus, some people don't even know they're born. If Vogon was here, seeing people complain about a drought of less than two months, she'd march round to your house and break your face.
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and I really must stop thinking about sex and do some work.
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and lol@scrawny for thinking I was mentioning the couple-police in relation to her and as if I wouldn't have been doing it ironically anyway ![[Wink]](wink.gif)
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He doesn't know this yet.
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