Boop oop be doop.

Shayne: Whacha doing baby?
Me: Waking, reading a blog, catching up on email.
Shayne: Nice. (psst! I love you.) i wish i were there with you. I'd like to have you watching betty boop, then i'd come in from another room with
Me: Mm. But how would you tear me from such sexy toons?
Shayne: I'd kneel between your legs spreading on the couch and lick your cock til it thickened. Then i'd slowly suck it to hardness.
Me: Yum.. Id enjoy caressing your hair, your gorgeous face, as you pleased yourself with me. You like my cock, baby?
Shayne: After a nice relaxed cock sucking..
Shayne: I'd stand and slowly slide my cotton undies down. I'd let you look and touch, then i'd turn my ass to your face and after you took in my scent i'd mount
Me: I love and miss your scent.
Shayne: your cock. Youd feel my wet cunt spreading around your hard dick. Your hands move my ass & hips and i slowly start riding & rocking on top of you.
Me: Even Boop's wee puppy couldnt keep me from being taken by you now. Just thinking about you guiding yourself on me has me hard.
Shayne: You like that baby? You like when i fuck you almost lazily while betty boop shakes on screen?
Me: :) Youre a riot. I love you. You put The Boop to shame. Yes: I love it when you ride me.
Shayne: And me wet. I am so hungry to fuck you again. And again. And dozens and hours more times. I want you my love.
Shayne: Le sigh. :*
Me: Youre great. I adore you. Now...you *know* Im gonna write about this, dont you, you delicious hussy?
Shayne Surely baby. :* Thinking of you honey.

To market, to market, to buy a plum bum.

Every now and then, I enjoy taking a tour of sorts of some of the sex-positive (or at least, sex-commercial) businesses in my area. Maybe I'm trying to relive the days of when I worked for the Pink Pussycat or Adult Movie Warehouse. I was broke in those days and doing work most would call "bottom tier," but damn did I ever have fun.

Naturally, I went shopping for Shayne. Now and then I like to make "care packages" to send her that usually contain fun little things, stuff we happen to be talking about, whatever. Smut. At the fabulous sexshop cooperative near me I bought Belladonna's Evil Pink 2, mostly because I think Shayne'll enjoy the behind-the-scenes elements and Keeani Lei with Belladonna in schoolgirl uniforms. A cute little sex comic from Eros for her completed my purchase, although I admit to having been a little intrigued by the boy toys too.

Do I want to try the Fleshlight sometime? Could be fun. And that blowjob suction thing looked like it might actually work well. Hrm. It's tough to get good cock toys, you know.

I especially enjoyed how the amazingly hot, short-haired, deliciously dyky associate in the store smirked a lot as I shopped. Another lovely associate was assisting me, and in explaining Shayne's interests, I mentioned that I was shopping for 'a friend.' Was she smirking because I, a man, was obviously looking for lesbian porn? "Fucking typical." Did she suppose my story of shopping for 'a friend' was a lame come-on? "Yeah, sure you are, dude." Or was she enjoying the idea of how I, as a man, was buying lesbian porn for my (virtually-) lesbian friend in another city, thus being the cosmopolitan kinda guy I believe I am at heart? "Whatever, dude, nothing surprises me anymore."

I really should talk with Deliciously Dyky sometime. Her vibe actually makes me nervous-in-the-good-way.

(And a word on lesbian porn: gentlemen (for those of you of either gender who are gentlemen), don't think for one moment that most of what's on the market (including Evil Pink 2) is a truthful representation of the glorious world of womenlust. It ain't. But my thoughts on the sexual politics of the adult entertainment industry will wait.)

From there I found myself getting Shayne some Asian skin mags at another (and far more kitschytacky) shop. Then on to what has to be the sleaziest, dirtiest adult DVD outlet in my city... but the prices are so agreeable. It's like going to one of those discount houseware outlets in the 'wrong side' of town, where the kids are screaming over their McDonald's bags while stressed out mothers are balancing the baby with the jumbo sized laundry detergent. Except here, the kids are grungy men wandering in stoic silence, avoiding eye contact with one another, and the mothers are the bored, equally grungy immigrant workers vainly trying to keep the no-less-grungy street people out.

Clue-by-four: This is not sexy. I appreciate how sleazy places can have its own element of hotness in the right context, but really, this place is way off the Skeeve-O-Meter. No, really.

So why then do I buy a three-dollar ticket to pass through the dirty black plastic shower curtain and into the room full of mismatched chairs to see the porn movie playing?

Duh. Because I can.

I watch one or two scenes featuring women with tramp stamps having totally unexcited sex with solidly buff but boringly mechanical men. It isn't long before I text Shayne.

Me: Why do men in porn films seem to be inept at sucking pussy?
Shayne: Good question. Maybe youre just a pussy sucking god
Me: Oh, don't tease me, you meanie.
Shayne: I'm not!

I decide to check out two of the other porn places I know of. One because it's nearby, and the other because it's about to close down and is the last actual movie theatre porn palace left in this city. The VHS/DVD/Internet porn revolution has its victims. I ask myself if I'm in the mood to let a guy blow me: both places occasionally present that option.

But, no. Apart from some decent interracial smut at both places (I really do enjoy watching women suck black cock, I admit it), I called it a night.

Lending a helping hand.

In the last day or two, my sexfun has been more about Shayne's sexfun than my own, and I think that's cool. Poor darling pixiegrrl is so craving women right now.

Last night, she shared that she was spending her evening enjoying a masturbation marathon, and I enjoyed encouraging her by textmessage. Thanks to this, she's discovered that (like me) she's a fan of Belladonna. I also happened upon a wonderfully fiery lesbian's profile page on a dating site, someone amazingly near Shayne, and sent her the info. Shayne responded immediately. Damn, I love this grrl.

Rawrs!!

Shayne is so hot. We've spent the last few hours talking, including enjoying a hot session of phonesex. That started with a discussion about sex blogs, and how she may be meeting the writer of Hobo Stripper in the near future. She read entries from this series in The Overeducated Nympho blog to me, and that made us both so primed.

Our session included everything from how she enjoys sucking my cock to how she misses my tongue probing her core to, eventually, varied fantasies on her also being taken by another man or woman as well. She wants to be fucked by me and another man some day, even though she's craving pussy at her mouth now too. When she came, she was thrusting her larger dildo into her very sexy cunt (again, she loves that word) as I coaxed her on. Fun!

Earlier today, we were texting about the kinds of women we liked, and I mentioned to her that we'd be dangerous if we were hosting a playparty together. "Rawrs!!" she replied.

Babaloo!

I'm about to call Shayne, making some tea, when Alix from Seattle texts me again. We've been texting every now and then for a while lately, and I'm enjoying it a lot. Mind you: we haven't even seen each other in over 10 years, and longer still since we last had sex. There was a chance for us to hook up about a year ago, when she was on stopover in my city while en route to Italy, but that got screwed up.

Alix: Thinking of you. naughty thoughts
Me: Mm. Tell me more...
Alix: Your thick cock ramming my ass to start
Me: My my. What brought this on? Memories of PA and MD? You sexy wench.
Alix: Yup
Me: I remember enjoying the nape of your neck as you gasped in the pillow, your buzzcut turning me on, your great ass on my thighs as I fucked you.
Alix: The feel of your thighs slamming me
Me: Are you jilling off or just teasin me? ;)

Shayne suddenly texts me now.
Shayne: I've got a story to read you...
Me: Yay! Gimme about half hour?

Alix gets back.
Alix: The former
Me: My my well. That yummy pussy soaked yet? Its been too long since I last feasted on you. Or would you rather raise that ass up for a solid fuck?

Shayne: Absolutely. As long as you promise to talk dirty to me.
Me: Could I ever resist you?
Shayne: You could pretend. For a little while.
Me: (to Shayne) Oh. No. Stop. You mustn't. No. *limp push away*
Me: (to Alix) I'd love to slowly slide my cock into your tightness, make you whimper, gasp, and sweat.
Alix: I really need that

Why am I picturing this as some lost I Love Lucy episode where Ricky is darting between two rooms, one with Lucy, the other with Ethel?

It all started with Joan.

I adore women. I adore women of all kinds. But I have to admit that if I had to choose only one "type" of companion to be with on some isolated island somewhere, it would have to be with a gutsy, ballsy, dyky, lusty shorthaired woman with attitude and Doc Martens.

It all started with Joan. Her nickname was "Hawk," and as she told it, it was because of the wide racing stripe between her legs. Here she was in 1985, when we were seeing Adam Ant playing Radio City Music Hall with The Romantics. It's the one picture I have of her.

We were in high school together. We never had sex per se, and we never quite made it to the grrlfriend/boyfriend stage, but we had enough sexually-charged fun and got along so scandalously well that the memory of her stands out for me to this day. We would skip class and take the subway throughout the city, hanging in Chinatown, the Village, and Soho. We mused about punk and metal bands and checked out urban graffiti together.

I took her to a Japanese restaurant for her birthday, where I discretely gave her a box of deliciously sexy goodies that she adored. A copy or two of Penthouse Variations magazine. Massage oil. Her first vibrator. I was working at New York's famous (and touristy) Pink Pussycat Boutique at the time, so the goodies were easy. I remember though that it was a simple box of collected seashells that pleased her the most, which surprised me at the time, but the look on her face warmed me to the core.

I gave her her first slow dance at a school event, something which she adored me for long after. "I'm truly glad you're with me," she wrote on the back of this photo. "It's a chilly nite out indeed, but here we are warm in each other's arms, with this nite slowly dancing its way into our memories! Enjoy!"

Looking back, we must have seemed hysterically anachronistic: she the leather-clad punk grrl and me the denim-jacketed metalhead. After the dance, we strolled along the Brooklyn Bridge with a discretely-hidden bottle of wine, marvelling how the yellow lighting on the bridge made everything appear to be in black&white. We necked in the alley near her apartment building, where during passionate kisses, she stroked my cock over my jeans as I caressed her denim-covered ass and made her cum with my hand. She locked her head over my shoulder when she came. I was entranced.

I could have easily fallen hard for Joan. In some ways I did. In some ways I still am. But I later met Diva at a renaissance festival I later worked at, and found myself whisked away to eventually move in with her in New England. I remember when I told Joan, but I don't remember much of her response. I know I regret not getting closer to her, of the missed opportunities, and how I'd dearly love to make contact with her again if I could. I really blew it when I moved away.

I often wonder what became of her. Searching through our high school's alumni services and the net haven't yielded any results. I wouldn't be at all surprised if she became a punk rocker lesbian somewhere. More than 20 years later, I miss her.

She was an amazing tomboi who started me on my lusty path. Maybe, in a way, I'm still searching for her.

Moo moo, baa baa. Moo moo, baa baa.

A word about pics.

Since transferring this blog from LJ, I've been gradually uploading pix to past entries. Old and new readers alike might enjoy checking out the archives, many of the images therein are from my private collection. All properly anonymized and creatively tweaked, of course.

Like this one of the Grrl's generous ass, here with her bound to a chair and her boots chained together by the ankles. Remember the Grrl?

In other news, Shayne texted me today to say she's starving for a woman's touch again, and how she wants to Top and possibly peg Brent, the other guy (kid, really) she's even-more casually seeing in her city. I'm planning on buying her some Asian lesbian porn soon, and I'll share what I end up picking for her.

It's good to be back online again, and I'm pleased to see some previous readers and friends returning.