Quiet Reflections

So, this week has been really quiet, there's almost nothing to mention, so instead we'll do a recap of how things are with all my boys. 

Guy who won't come: So, I asked him about this last night. He explained as follows, he has difficulty getting there, and has done for quite some time. He had been concerned about how lightheaded I was so he'd been focussed on me. I suggested we put the choking aside for a while, he agreed. Things look more positive there.

Punk: Punk is in love with a girl who doesn't love him back. He's been trying to sway me into getting into bed with him (most likely to just numb the pain). I've been declining. Nothing is really different between us, but I feel like we've passed our used-by date.

BabyFace: BabyFace and I are spending quite a bit of time together, chatting and hanging out. He started giving me those big wide eyes, so I've put a little bit of space there. We're catching up about once a week, but no sex.

Muso: Is in town, keeps calling me. I'm avoiding. No particular reason, but I just don't have the energy for his bullshit at the moment.

MarriedGuy: We had a heart to heart. I value his friendship, and I don't want to risk losing it, or risk him losing his family. I said we should stop fooling about. He didn't quite agree, but things are looking to be on an even keel.

Red: Fell in love, he's dating a great girl. Hardly hear a whisper from him these days. When I do he suggests I should meet her. Sounds fine to me.

Spike: Spike and I have been chatting and catching up occasionally. Though it hasn't been sexual. I've been a little over him too of late. 

Long: Long is off the rails. We've not been sleeping together for a very long time, but he's dating lots of girls and partying hard. Love him to pieces, but he's a mess right now. I'm leaving him to run amok alone.

Pup: Trying to be a better boyfriend to his long time partner. She is now a "homemaker" (no kids, so I'm not sure what this means) but it does mean he can't sneak around any more.

(s)Ex: (s)Ex and I aren't sleeping together. He's been away on work, and I can't be bothered. We're still friends, and still pretty close, but I don't know if I'm up for more meaningless sex. It feels weird.

And as for me... I'm taking it easy. I've been preoccupied with family stuff for the last week. So no sex to report at all. I've been up in my head, I suppose, thinking about the future and about where I'm going. 

Sorry there's not more sexiness to check in with...

With Love

SSBx

A Break

I'm preoccupied. Other thoughts. New ideas.


This week has been unusual.


Punk is away, he's still sending me messages. He misses me. Things are quieter on that front. The intensity is gone, the feeling that he could drag me in has passed. 


Spike and I caught up. Things aren't as perfect as I thought with the girl who shares my name. He misses me. I didn't care.


Red called. He broke it off with his distant lover. He's not leaving any more. He suggested red wine and a deep and meaningful. I said I'd see how I felt.


Pup called. He usually texts, but he called. He wanted to schedule time for next week. I said I'd see.


(s)Ex and I caught up. We watched a bad movie, talked about where we were going in life. He tried to kiss me goodbye. I turned my head and gave him cheek.


MarriedGuy is pretending he's actually going to marry the love of his life. Most of the time. He asked me if I'd watch him jerk off. I declined. Normally I wouldn't mind, but I just didn't want to this time.


Muso and Body are both texting me. Those two are fuck ups. They both offered me naked photos. I declined those too. Body still sent me a photo of his cock. It was a decent cock. I'm sure his girlfriend would be thrilled to know he sends photos of it around.


I've had a couple of old flames text me to "catch up and hang out". The implications aren't subtle.


Granted I've been unwell (just a cold).


Normally on busy weeks like this I revel in the attention. The naughty text messages are an aphrodisiac.


Instead I turned my phone off, and have let the thoughts of other things preoccupy my mind. I don't know if I'm changing, I think I'm probably just distracted.

Lets talk about sex...

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"I Love Your Pretty Lips Around My Cock"

"I love your pretty lips around my cock" he whispered. I love MarriedGuy. 

Technically he's not married (yet). Him and his fiance are walking down the aisle soon. I'm going to the wedding. I'm even participating in their wedding. I know. Lecture away. 

His wife to be is a frigid bitch. Actually, she's really nice. But she hates sex, hates sucking his cock, hates giving him handjobs. I think she just fucking hates cock. I'm not sure that she's actually gay, I think she's probably closer to asexual.

I however love his cock. It's a good size (not so big that it makes head difficult, but big enough that when he pushes me down a little I gag).

Tonight we were chatting away happily. She's at home with the baby. I walked him out to the car to say goodbye. I leaned against him hugging him close. "I miss you" I said. It was true; I do miss him. I miss that we used to see each other twice a week. Now we catch up once a month. Usually with his fiance there too. It's still fun, we're still super close. Just not like it was...

He leaned in and rested his chin on my shoulder. "I know, I miss you too" he whispered in my ear. His lips brushed my earlobe. We stood hugging, me leaning into his body. He smelt like a perfect cologne. It suits him.  He asked how I was. I told him that Punk was gone. That I was weighing up seeing him again (also true). That I wasn't sure how I felt about Punk (once again true). I told him (most of) the details of what happened with Punk. That he was gone for another month.

"You'll figure it out" he said, then kissed me gently on the lips. I leaned back and smiled. He pulled me in again and kissed me harder. I reached down and rubbed his cock through his pants. I felt that it was already hard pressed against his tight black jeans. 

He reached into his pocket a moment later, clicked the button for his locking system, and swung me around so my back was against the body of the car, opening the back door with his other hand. "Get in" he whispered, spinning me around again so my ass was pressed against his body. I climbed in and scooted across to the far seat. He climbed in next to me.

He kissed my neck and ear, rubbed my breasts. He kissed me softly. I rubbed his chest. He told me how alone he felt. I sighed. I was feeling hooked on Punk and the things he'd done to me. I needed a break from how I felt. 


I kissed his neck, I kissed his chest. I unzipped his pants, pulling his cock free. It's a good cock. I've never actually fucked him. Just oral. I wasn't up for oral that night, so I just made myself comfortable, rubbing his cock over my lips.


While I caressed him gently with my lips, he stroked my breasts and ass, varying his hands between the two. Occasionally pausing at my hair. He ran his fingertips down my spine. Just to make me shiver. I love that feeling. That little rush of endorphins. That shiver of glee. Knowing in a few moments I'd be working his cock up and down with my lips and both hands.

He was excited before I got all of him in my mouth. I knew it had been too long. He softly stroked my hair. He rubbed my back and leaned back and enjoyed it. I worked his cock comfortably. I knew exactly what I was doing. I knew how he liked it. Slow at first, building speed, friction, intensity. He reached climax fast. He tapped my neck softly with two fingers, telling me he was about to come. I pushed down, so his cock was deep in the back of my throat and he came hard straight away. And that was when he said it. Before I even had his cock out of my mouth


"I love your pretty lips around my cock"


I curled up. Rested my head on his chest. We rested in the silence of the moment. 


I told him how I was feeling about life, about how Punk had kinda messed with my juju a little lately. He told me how it was to be a dad, and how it was to nearly be married. I promised to help with wedding decorations. His future wife would be thrilled. He promised to visit me more. I was thrilled. He kissed my hair softly.


I told him how I felt about Punk. How did I feel then? Last night is a very long time ago. I felt like... like we'd ripped each others hearts out so many fucking times it wasn't ever going to work out. Like it was impossible for either of us to take a step forward towards communicating honestly. Like I was hung up on hating him all the while wishing he'd want more.


Like part of me wanted to feel something for him. Part of me wondered if I could feel something for him. All that unfulfilled promise. 


MarriedGuy told me so many sweet things. How I'm exceptional, but too manly for most guys to handle. How I needed to get past my issues with Punk because - like it or not - there was too much history. If I was that bothered about letting it go, make a move. How if I was so uncertain maybe there was a sign in that.


Music played. The volume increasing. I was lying on the vibrations. I pulled MarriedGuys phone from his pants, handing it to him. His future wifes smiling face on the screen. "Hi honey... no it's ok, I'm at SSB's house... I'll grab tea on the way home... Tell baby I love him... ok honey.... I love you too..."


He kissed me softly after he hung up from her phone call. I knew he only had another 10 minutes to spare. He pulled his pants up. I think the phone call had him feeling a little uncomfortable.


We cuddled in peace, then said goodbye a few minutes later. "You'll be right, you're the toughest bitch I know" he said. I laughed. I'm only short and I'm not exactly muscular, but we weren't talking about physically.


My phone was vibrating on the counter when I got inside. 


PUNK: 6 NEW MESSAGES
(s)Ex: 1 NEW MESSAGE
LONG: 1 NEW MESSAGE
RED: 2 NEW MESSAGES


Anyone would think I'd been in the car a week.


I started at the bottom. Red's back in town, volunteered to do me a favour while he's here. I texted back yes. He told me how happy he is with his new girlfriend too. I told him I'm happy for him. Secretly? I'm counting the minutes until he cheats on her.


Long is on holidays. Just wanted to see how I'm getting on. Fine I say. Hangs when he gets home? Yes. We're in a friends-only place now.


(s)Ex asking me questions about Game of Thrones. Yes, we'll catch up next week. I don't think sex is on the cards though after a minor freakout and calling me his (other) ex-girlfriends name in a drunk panic.


Now to Punk... he's at the pub, he misses me, he wants to hook up when he gets back to town, he sends me a photo of his beer, reminds me that I can still drink him under the table. I text back a single message about him being a boozy floozy, tell him to call me when he's done at the pub.


He obliges. We chatter. He cracks a harsh joke about how I declined a date with him this week. Strictly speaking it was a misunderstanding. He complained that he had no one to go and have tea and play pool with, I said I'd go with him, he said pool was a cool date, I wrote back lol yeah i guess so, he cracked a joke about me asking him on a date, I told him to go fuck himself. 


I bit. "I didn't decline a date, you didn't fucking ask me on one" I snapped.
"Well...umm"
He freezes.


Silence.


Awkwardness.


I'm feeling irritated "What did you expect me to say in that instant? If you LIKED me like that then you'd ask. There's no point in asking"
"Oh because you know me so well" he snaps back
"Well, how DO you feel" I snipe


Silence.


"I like you" he whispers
"Great. I like you too. I'm glad we've established friendship."
"You're being a cunt. I actually want to try. And you know it"


Silence


"What?" I ask confused.
"I like you, I want to try this time and be with you. I want to make it work. We always fuck it up. This time, I want to try. I've always loved you. I still do. We don't always have to be a trainwreck. I know there are some things to figure out, things to talk about, but I want you. Good parts and bad parts. I just want you."


Silence.


"You can't just..." I start
"I can just. I want you. I want to know if you feel the same?"
"Ask me tomorrow morning when you've not been drinking." I stammer out. I'm buying myself time.
"Deal, Miss. Talk to you then."


He hangs up.


I sit. I obsess. I worry.


I think...


I worry.


Yes. I'll try. No. I won't. Yes... No...


I barely sleep.


BEEP BEEP. 5.20AM my phone calls for attention. The screen lights up.


PUNK: 1 NEW MESSAGE
"Sorry for calling you last night. I remember that we talked, but I have no idea about what. Sorry. Talk later."


Talk later means not today.


So here I am. 


Your still-single SSB. The magic charm for keeping away commitment. 

Inspiration

I'm lacking inspiration. Perhaps a little desire.


My encounter with Punk last week has left my mind distracted. Other pursuits have held less interest... He leaves again shortly. A month he'll be gone. A month to clear my head.


I've been dating. I have my fourth date with NewBoy this week. I haven't asked him if he's seeing other people or anything - I can't say it bothers me. 

Since a couple of weeks ago, I've stopped fucking (s)Ex. After his little boozy freakout, I'm not sure how I feel. Never a good move to call your newest ex-girlfriend by your old ex-girlfriends name while screaming at her for not wanting to be with you. It just got awful. It was the most passion we'd ever really had though.


I'm seeing (s)Ex this week though. Game of Thrones and dinner. Perhaps I'll blow him or fuck him if the mood strikes, though after playing nasty with Punk, I can't say I'm over-enthused about the plan. The gentle respectful sex of being with (s)Ex makes things feel different because I know he's only like that because he's repressed. Some part of him would love to let loose.

...to fuck you up

Red has been on vacation, out of the state. He'll be back soon. Lately he's been talking about feelings and love and shit about some girl. It'll pass, but for now he's pretending he's a nice guy instead of the cheating lying bastard we all know and love. Hope he's got her well fooled, else it won't last.


Spike also is making noises about the girl he's been fucking and being in love. His too will pass and will be back in my bed with in the next few months. 


Sometimes they need to detour back through the misery and heartache that is pretending to love someone before they remember what empty people we are sometimes. They're both physically incapable of loving a girl, of being with her without cheating.


Oddly, Spikes girlfriend and Reds girlfriend have the same name. My name too. Heh. At least calling out the wrong name in bed won't be a problem for them I suppose.


I don't know what I want any more. Awkward dates? Rough sex every six weeks? Weekly to fortnightly rolls in the hay with an ex who I'll never love? 


All this stuff seems to wash over me, lacking in inspiration. Lacking in joy.


Perhaps I should just spend more time at home with my favourite new toy (thank you to Swan Vibrators, your Swan Princess model and I are becoming very well acquainted since we met last week).


I haven't slept with NewBoy. This Saturday is a good friends birthday party, and she told me to bring NewBoy. That'll make our first night time date, and date number five. Five dates sounds like a lot. We haven't had tea together yet, we have only had lunch around the corner from his work. I get the idea that he likes me well enough, but I think his divorce is problematic.

I hope with Punk back on his flight to the middle of nowhere, the overwhelming desire to let him hurt me and fuck me and try to break me will subside, letting me refocus and actually get to know NewBoy. This wander down memory lane with Punk has felt like a little bit of a struggle. Like we're stuck in stalemate. The relationship is like lust with pauses of hatred. Ugliness.


I think I just need a new thrill... and perhaps if I felt like I was actually chasing NewBoy I'd be getting that thrill feeling. Even though he's sexy and charming and polite, I don't get that overwhelming desire to fuck him and kiss him and bite his neck, and I don't feel like he wants to throw me against a wall and rip my clothes off. (s)Ex does that. 


Can't a girl just have everything in one man, instead of needing four?

Long and Hard

So before I blow my birthday candles out this weekend, I feel like I could celebrate a few of the amazing sexual experiences I've had. 


I have a beautiful friend. He's tall, fire-red hair and bright blue eyes. Strong hands. Him and I spent hours and hours, night after night, walking a small out in the middle of nowhere bush cemetery. It was the nearest to my house. It was pitch black. So dark we could barely see where we were going. So dark that in the darkest corners of the place we couldn't see eachother. And in the night sky, in the wrongest of places, where we could hear each others heart beats and feel a cool Autumn breeze, he'd spend hours in me under the stars. 


It wasn't hard and rough. It wasn't aggressive. It was strong and passionate and intense. The location, whilst taboo, irrelevant. It was just the only place we could count on for privacy at night. We'd stretch out, on the hood of his car, a few hundred metres from the road, in a cemetery off the side of a highway, the cool metal against my ass. There are many things I could say about this guy. Probably one of the ones that springs to mind so often is he had the most beautiful cock. It was long and thick and hard. And with him in between my sixteen year old thighs, it was enough to send me home bruised. He couldn't have been rougher with me without tearing me, I was so young and so fresh that the first few minutes he was so big that even with oral sex, would cut like a knife inside me. His strong hands would always fill me with confidence, and with in minutes, my screams would be lost in the dark cemetery. No one for miles around to hear me scream his name as I came. Over and over and over. We're still friends now. Occasionally still naked friends. 


I spent so many nights with him, while he was with his last lady.  Seven years they were together. The day that she agreed to be his girlfriend, he celebrated with me on my hands and knees in the back of his car. We were laying naked intwined, him still inside me, his come still sticky on my thighs where it had leaked out. "I met this chick, I've been seeing her for a while, I think it's serious" he said. We talked about it naturally, I wasn't angry. He drove me home and kissed me goodbye. "I'll see you in a week" he said.


And so he did. And on and off for the next seven years, he played "cricket", and went "bowling" and "rock climbing" and "fixed friends cars" and "worked extra hours" and was "called in for a work emergency". 


Seven whole years.


She dumped him for cheating. A sin he'd confessed to.  He DELIBERATELY let her find out.  The woman? Not me! An ex-girlfriend. 


Other nights with him were spent on a jetty, having sex over the water. Or strolling down by the sea, until he'd eventually find something to bend me over and force his fingers roughly inside me. And after six years of sex in the most unusual of places, he spent a full night in my bed. 


We never really thought we'd end up together. Not for a moment. I'm in love with part of him though. It's about 27cm long, and I still can't get my hand around it.


I cheated on three guys with him. I don't know how many girlfriends he cheated on with me. 


One night, we had a threesome with a girl we both knew once upon a time. My former best friend.
We'd been at my best friends boyfriends party. A long fucking night, and they'd bickered. For a new couple, these two fucking hated each other. So, faithful as ever, Red came and partied with us for a little while. He took us back to his beach house, and we were all lying on the fold out couch. 


My best friend made the first move. She started rubbing his leg. I didn't really care. She could fuck him if she wanted. She made a habit of interfering with things she thought were mine. And whilst he was someone elses boyfriend, he was there because I'd asked him to be. So in her crazy head he was mine.


She started kissing me - not a first for us (we'd slept together a hundred times). We opened a couple of beers, we got down on our knees in front of him. I was 16 and she was 17 or 18. Two teenage girls looking up at him. He barely lasted a minute with us both licking and sucking. Kissing each other, his cock between our lips, our tongues touching and grazing over each other.


He relaxed and watched, urging her to push her tongue between my legs. We took each others clothes off. The secret to an FFM threesome isn't the quality of the sex, it's in the theatre of the sex. It's about a man enjoying the visual of two women, so to take her bra off, I kneeled behind her, running my tongue over her smooth ass cheek as I unhooked it. Standing up, kissing her neck making eye contact with him. Then I slipped her two shoulder straps off her shoulders. She knew the game, and didn't let it fall until I had both hands inside the pink lace. I danced around in front of her, sucking one nipple, running my fingertip down her collarbone, over her chest, over her nipple. He watched, to suck her other nipple, I exaggeratedly bent over, in my panties and bra, keeping my heels on to keep my ass higher in the air. 


Not many nights do things look like porn, but this was one of those nights. We were dressed to kill, our hair was styled, our make up perfect. Our heels were neckbreakingly high. We played our theatrical games. Her getting down on her knees, me lying back on the couch propped up and her licking the outside of my wet panties. Her tongue was poked out far, to exaggerate the action. Her big blue eyes looked up at me, my green eyes were focussed on him.


I wish I could narrate what happened next more accurately, but we toyed with each other. We stripped down to our panties, and toyed with each other, keeping him from seeing too much to drive him wild.  


There came a moment, when we'd toyed far enough and he leapt between us, through us on the bed. He tore my panties off first, dragging me by the hips and lying me flat. He grabbed her and pushed her up to my face, she climbed on top, pushing her wet pussy onto my lips. She came, her pussy juice leaking onto my face. She moaned hard when she came again. She started to shake. 


I pushed them both off me, pushing her onto her back, I knelt with my knees on the edge of the bed, pushing two fingers inside her and licking hard, I wanted her to scream. I knew her body, I knew I could push her to the point that she'd beg me to let her rest. He pushed his cock in me from behind, and by standing on the floor behind me, he could see every movement of her breasts, shaking with orgasms, my head between her legs and my hand, dextrously playing with her g spot. She was screaming. I would have been too if I hadn't been sucking on her clit so hard.


I was exhausted and needed a position change. We swapped. I climbed up so he could lick my pussy while he lay on his back and she rode his cock. I knew she was surprised by how big he was, I could hear her whimper with a little discomfort. She was a slut - even by my standards, but we both knew this was the biggest cock she'd ever seen. 


She rode him hard, screaming his name, him licking me hard, me moaning and screaming his name too.


She was exhausted, and went to the kitchen, and so he climbed on top of me, and pulled my legs up over his shoulder, his bright blue eyes gazing into my green, his hands holding on my shoulders, pushing deep inside me, he came. He came deep inside me. Kissing my cheek he climbed off. 


He begged us to both put our heads on his chest as we fell asleep, so he could doze with two girls on his chest. Her red hair meshed against mine died black our long long hair tangled.