A Blogovella by Ezzie Dryar (Anne Martin)

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13. Voyeur


The Unsuspecting Victim by rekha_is_batman

I’ve been sitting here working all day, and all I have been able think of has been taking my clothes off.  Sometimes, I just find wearing clothes repulsive.  I know that sitting on a wool desk chair will get uncomfortable fast, not to mention that I’d get cold rather quickly.  Still, they have to come off, at least for a short time, until it gets old, or I start turning blue.  (I can put a towel on the chair.)

Excuse me ……………

Ah yes, that’s better.  I love this feeling of freedom – and the answer is, no, I do not have a webcam.  I don’t do pictures, in any case.

Well, what now?  I know – I’ll watch you.  Call me Big Sister, as I watch your everyday lives, walking around, working, taking care of the kids, however you spend your day or your night.  Yes, the night is more interesting – don’t mind me, I’ll just sit here quietly in the corner as you make love to your partner.  Pretend I’m not here – OK, if you get off on that, you can imagine I’m there, naked, in a dark corner of your bedroom.  Don’t worry, I have very good night vision; you can have the lights off.

Rough stuff?  No, I’m not interested.  I’ll be looking out the window, watching my friend, the moon, traverse the sky.  Oh, that’s better, gentle kisses, a little bit of tongue action.  Now, you’ve got me.  Wait, don’t hide under the covers.  I don’t have X-Ray vision.  I’ll turn the heat up a little, as you turn up your heat.  No, don’t hurry on my account.  I like it slow, and the slower you go, the more excited I’ll get.  I might even, yes, do that, along with you.  Don’t pay any attention to my moans.  Oh, that was good!  I like it when someone does that to me.  That should get you going.  Mmm, that too, I never would have guessed that a tongue in my ear would have that kind of effect.

You’ve forgotten me by now.  I’m still here, but I might just move a little closer.  I want to feel your heat – yes, right here on the edge of the bed.  The moon glistens on your sweaty bodies, and I have to restrain myself from giving you a hand.  The rhythm picks up.  You are getting serious now – and so am I – the air is thick with the sultry musk of your copulation, and I’m breathing it in like water vapour in the desert.  Ooh, careful – maybe I’m in the way.  I’ll just kneel on the floor and lean my head on the edge of the bed – I’m closer to the business end there, and that’s what I want to see.  Oh, ride’m girl!  That’s my favourite position – on top and in control.  Her thigh is only an inch or two from my cheek, pulsing, throbbing.  He’s ready – I can tell – his feet are tensing … That’s right!  Let it out.  I’m not into pain, but noisy is fine, “Yes, yes, yes!”  YES! Let the neighbours hear it.  Oh my, now I’m sweating, too.  Language, dears!  OK, you can shout as many expletives as you wish.  Getting closer – me, too – hmm, never heard that one before.  Three backs arch in unison – and, and …. (pregnant pause) …. YES! blessed release …. oops, he popped out, careful!  Oh!  He got me right in the face.  Warm and slimey.  It’s OK; I just wasn’t expecting it.  I’ll just wipe it somewhere out of the way.  There, he’s back in now, where he belongs.

I’ll just lean here against the side of the bed while you finish up, and savour the post-coital aroma of your bedroom.  Yes, of course you may do it again, but I have what I’ve come for.  (Hehe!)  I might just listen, however.

Ah, I’m back at my desk, sitting on a wet towel.  I’m still warm, though, thanks to you.

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12. Going Nuclear


Bare back in stillettos

It’s happening again – I’ve got to let it out, I’m writing too much real fiction, The Wind Whisperer, and no sex, well, not that much in the story at least; people have been saying that I’ve should write more of the real stuff, fiction, essays, I enjoy that part of writing, for me it’s therapy, letting out the frustration, and that usually means sexual frustration, I want it now, I need it now, you, dear readers are going to give it to me, yes, I can feel it already, the heat, the rush, mmmm, I can feel you as if you were sitting here in my lap, well, you are, via computer technology, between my legs where you belong, and I open myself to you, my heart, my body all of me – I can feel your heat – yes, there, oh, you can be so good to me,

I’ve been pondering the seven deadly sins lately, and I keep coming back to lust, I’m finding it difficult to tackle wrath, and although I have a long fuse, it’s a big explosion; sex can be that way, the longer you wait for it, the better it is, if only that were true – I’m expecting an 150 megaton blast, you’d better watch out – that’s the physical wait, but I make up for some of it by writing these words for you, my bedfellow – you keep me warm at night and sometimes during the day, like right now on a Sunday evening while I’m waiting for dinner to cook, I can just smell it, not dinner, sex, I can feel it coming like dinner, and I’m hungry, so hungry for you, and I’m tired of the foreplay, foreplay is good, but I want the main course and you are my dinner tonight, can you smell the semen in my hair, that’s left over from my jacuzzi fantasy, I loved that, but today you get to join me, and in fact, I’m your fantasy today, what am I doing now – holding you while you keep me warm, mmm, your skin is so soft against mine, I assume I’m naked in your fantasy, or about to be, did my cloths come of easily, torn, shredded, wet – I like it wet – water, baby oil, corn oil (hehe), even, yes, you know about that already, but no blood, and no pain, but I suppose if that is your fantasy, you don’t have to tell me, don’t, I don’t want to know, let me have it, and I take you places, where you want to go, need to go, I’m doing it now, do you like it, I do, and I’m feeling it, yes, there, the usual place, the best place, how do I taste, you haven’t tried, do, I like to be tasted, I think I taste like commas tonight, I’ve been using them almost relentlessly, but no periods, it’s not that time of the month, I’m ripe and ready, salted, peppered and comma-ed, what are you waiting for?

11. Freedom


good morning sunshine

Shortly after my divorce, I bought myself silk crimson pjs cum negligee.  (Notice how I slipped in some latin?  And what a apropos choice of word.  Well done, Anne.)  I thought at that time that it was to get myself back on the prowl.  It was an extravagance – something for me.  You might think that after 15+ years it wouldn’t fit me anymore, but actually I was heavier then.  There was too much stress during my marriage and its aftermath; I ate more and ran less.  The negligee was supposed to symbolize freedom.  Every once in a while, I decide to wear them, just for me – my private personal seduction.  Last night was the night, and realizing that I didn’t have to go out at all today, I’m still wearing them.  In fact, I’m still in bed.  The weather is warm today, so I’ve dispensed with the covers, preferring the warmth of my laptop on my thighs.

I’ve unbuttoned the top for comfort, hanging free and easy.  Although, I got up to do my morning toilette, I haven’t bothered to brush my hair.  It’s tangled all over the place, but there is a naturalness about it that seems to fit with today’s freedom.  The panties are perhaps a little too free.  As I said, I’ve lost a little weight since I bought them, so they slip around a little bit.  It doesn’t matter no one is watching, except you, dear reader, and I trust you not to stare.  Have I misplaced my trust?  Today, I don’t care.  You can stare all you want.  Here, I’ll lift up my laptop, so you can have a good look.  See?  They’re a little rolled up in the back and hence are hanging rather low, not hiding much at all.  Excuse me while I stand and straighten them up…

… did you get a good look?  I get really red when I blush.  They slid down to my thighs when I scooted to the side of the bed.

Mmmm … I love silk.  My body almost feels smoother through it than touching the skin directly.  Want to try it?  Cheeky!  I had an option of white lace trim, but I opted for pure silk, with discreet buttons.  The top hangs to my upper thighs.  I’m not any taller than when I bought it, but it seems like it is shorter.  As I sit here, it hangs to the side anyway, giving you the full length of my legs, a bit of tummy and yes, those.  I like having small breasts – it’s funny, most of my female characters are jealous of larger-breasted women, but I’m not.  They don’t get in the way, and I rarely have men talk to my chest instead of my eyes.  Maybe it’s closet breast-envy, but I wouldn’t admit to it.

So what shall I do today?  I might just be decadent and sit here all day.  At some point, I should eat, I suppose, but for now I’m just going to sit here, hang loose, and enjoy the freedom.  No, you can’t stay, this is my private time.  (Thinks about buying silk sheets.)

Have a nice day.  Now, beat it!

10. In come


closeup in the water

Whoa … sorry … still out … of breath …. (gulp) …. just got off the treadmill … there, that’s … whoa … a little dizzy …. there, I’m OK now.  I hate running on the treadmill, but it was cold and rainy out, and too much flooding around … wouldn’t want to swim home.  I’m sure you saw the title of this one and thought I was going to talk about earning a living.  I may eventually, but the title has a different significance, which will become apparent shortly.

I took a run to give the boys time to fill the jacuzzi.  I’ve decided to indulge myself today; this is all about me and my pleasure.  You may watch if you wish, but I’m sure there are several of you that will decide I’ve gone too far this time, so I won’t be offended if you give this a miss.

I normally prefer to shower after I run, but today I’m going to take a bath, a special bath that my boys – acolytes, chosen not for their musculature (except for Seth, a nice lusty farmhand), but rather for their staying power, and believe me, they are going to need it today.  The girls are back there ready to lend them a hand if any of them falter in their task.  No, they aren’t going to pleasure me today, not directly at least, but I will enjoy the fruits of their labours, their labours for me their goddess.  I think they won’t be pleasuring anybody for some considerable time.

As I said, today is about my pleasure.  I’m sure you all have a kinky fantasy that you’ve dreamt of, but never had the guts to try or even tell someone about.  Today, you get mine.  I’m going out of my comfort zone this time, and I’m going to break a few of my taboos – as you see, I’m already using periods, because I want to relax and savour this.

As some of you know, I’m into all things wet and slippery – in fact, I’ve been sitting in a pool of my own damp, anticipating this all day.  I was starting to worry that I’d start getting a case of panty rash.  Two hours of running means that I’m literally raining sweat. (The girls in the back are giggling at me, but I love it!)  One of the advantages of indoor running is that I can wear whatever I wish, so just my white running bra, which is now more or less transparent.  You can even see my pink nipples through it.  Don’t worry, I’ll have to take it off soon, then you’ll get a better view.  I’ve also worn my skimpiest running pants – they’re light blue, a miscalculation when I bought them.  If I’m running in public, I need to wear something under them, or I give a free show to all and sundry when they get damp with sweat like they are now.  As you will see if you look carefully (yes, do take a closer look), you can see my bush.  (Oops, there goes another taboo!)  Here, why don’t I just slip them off (my shoes came off as soon as I was off the treadmill).  There, I’m all rosy red from my exertion.  Be careful as I slip my bra off, or you’ll get showered with my sweat.  Perhaps you’d like that, come a little closer then.  I really am dripping, as I rub my chest – ah, don’t touch!  This is my fantasy, not yours.

Let’s just go in and see if the jacuzzi is ready.  Mmmm, don’t you just love it?  The smell of sex, or more specifically, cum.  (Oh no, another taboo gone!)  Gee, the boys look all worn out.  Girls, do take care of them.  They won’t be needed the rest of the day.

Isn’t that a beautiful sight?  A jacuzzi full of pearly white semen.  Yes, a very special bath coming for me.  (Don’t you just love the double entendre?)  Haven’t you just dreamt of swimming in fresh cum?

I breathe deeply and step to the edge – ah, the aroma!  I step down onto the ledge.  Ooh, how warm it is.  I have to be careful not to slip.  I’ll sit on the edge first.  Ah, warm on my calves.  I splash – well, if you can call it that – some on my thighs.  It’s so slick, like glycerin.  I step into the centre, up to my waist.  It feels so heavenly, not quite like jello, more like warm double thick cream.  I think about all those little spermies, blindly swimming around trying to find the appropriate orifice.  Some will find it, but I’m afraid they will be disappointed if they make it all the way in.  Maybe I’ll give them a little help.  First, I’ll lower myself in right up to my chin.  It’s getting in my hair, but that’s OK.  It’s like being in back in my mother’s womb.  (Going all the way back to conception!)

Time to give them a little help.  Ah … ohhhhhh … yes.  It’s a pity I’m too tired to do anything more.  I’m just going to relax for a few minutes …

… Mmm … this is nice, you should try it.  Not now!  You find your own jacuzzi!  This is my time; it’s “me” time.  There is one thing I haven’t done yet.  Full immersion.  Yes, I’m going to do it.  I’ve gotten this far.  Here I go …

Pfpfpfpfffffft!  Oooh, that feels weird.  I got some in my ears.  I think I’m going to smell like cum for weeks, but that’s OK.  It’s worth it.  It doesn’t quite drip off like water – that’s not unexpected, but it feels … ooh.  It’s still nice and warm.  Hmm … tastes like, um, oysters, salty … maybe I’ll take a little on my tongue … yes, oysters … swallow them whole, right?  Mmm.  I love oysters.

Hey, I’ve got an idea.  Turn the jets on.  The switch is just behind you.  Weeeeeee!  That’ll confuse the buggers, not to mention what it’ll do to the pumps.  Well, it’s due for a maintenance tomorrow.  Look at it foam up!  Fantastic.

I stand up and it dribbles off me like honey, it feels amazing as I rub my breasts.  Have I told you I like it when you watch me?  A massage sounds fantastic right now.  Too bad I sent the staff home.  Oh.  You will?  Well, OK, but don’t get any ideas, and you can’t get in with me.  This is my bath.

Hey, that’s not my back!  OK, it feels nice.  Don’t they just fit perfectly into your hand.  Careful, no pinching; I’m not into pain.  Mmmm.  You know, if you don’t mind getting it all up your arm, there is something else you can do for me.  Yes, you guessed.  Cumming in cum.  What a novelty.  OK, be gentle now.  I’m very fragile after a run and it’s going to take a long time, I wouldn’t want to go numb, and I want you to milk me for all it’s worth.  So roll up your sleeve and reach down.  I know you can’t see anything.  Feel free to rest your head on my shoulder.  Oooh, there, that’s the spot … gentle, even more gentle, two fingers are enough for now, slowly.  I’m afraid you won’t get the …. ooooh …. satisfaction of me screaming with delight.  I’m quiet when I have sex, until I climax, and I’m told that’s a sound that can’t be described.

If you are careful … mmm … you may hear it se … ssss …. several …. t-t-t-t times.  Sorry …. can’t t-t-t-t-t-talk anymore.

9. Dreammaker


me in red

Thank God for Fridays, well, most of them; it seems most of my streams come on Fridays, usually in the evening, usually in reaction to news, good or bad, and there was some today – I’m not good at dealing with it – usually I flee in to my inner space, my inner erotic paradise, where dreams grow; it helps me escape, escape into that eternal musky, sultry summer evening, where there is always someone there to satisfy me, spiritually and physically – not a god or devil, just someone who knows my needs intimately, who makes me forget the cough I’ve been carrying for a few days, or the ache, the ache of longing – I long – and I’ve longed for a long time, but on Friday night, facing a weekend on my own or with my friends and not work, I think about him and about my dreams

erotic fantasies, sometimes, usually, it’s an obsession, but it helps me to survive, I’m not a sex addict, I’m addicted to dreams, dreams about sex maybe, dreams about him, about my suppressed existence, my past, my mistakes, yes mistakes, I’ve made them, but he’s nearby so it’s not all bad, and he visits my dreams, and I know I visit his, maybe I visit yours, I hope I do, and I hope it’s good for you, exciting and satisfying, do dream of me when you can – my dreams, well, I run a lot, escape dreams, he has them, too, I know, exploring places from my past, places as they never appeared in real life, places where I search for things, find things that I don’t expect, naked – funny, he says he’s always naked in his dreams, too, it’s a mystery;

I’m naked now, metaphorically, for you my reader as I bare my soul, I give you my tanned lean limbs, a runner’s tan, my milky white breasts – obviously, I never run topless – milky white like my soul, my hair bleaches in the summer, but it’s a dark red now (compliments of L’Oreal) otherwise it would probably be salt and pepper; my pure soul, which reaches out to envelope you, so you will love me – I crave affection – as most writers do, let me hold you with my words, so you can not but love me, my words, the intricacy in which I put them together to let them play, play with you, play with your dreams, in your dreams; I am there making your dreams, hopefully empowering you to make them come true; he says I inspire him, so shouldn’t you drink of the same nectar, the nectar of life, the nectar of dreams, the essence of love, and the kernal of art, I’m the most exalted carnal goddess, and sex is the most creative of drives, go forth and multiply, entertain me …

pleasant dreams my lovelies

8. Dreams and Aspirations


Carolyn by simpsonyiu

I’ve been rabid the last couple of days, obsessed with sex even more than usual, sex in dreams, wet dreams, I dream a lot, even when I’m awake, just sitting here working, now writing, tap, tap, tap, on my keyboard, doing one thing while thinking about the other,

today it’s dreams, dreams and aspirations, but mostly dreams, I’ve been thinking about publishing, that’s an aspiration obviously, and although I’m an editor, I don’t really have the right connections in publishing, and I don’t have anything substantial to submit, a nice long serious short story or novel, Hahn has stalled, while I re-consider where it is going, I’ve got a general plan, but I started the next chapter and it just felt so stale, what to do with Alleyn’s cousin, and Hahn’s three other consorts, bringing them in, but I feel like Liz needs to get back to the real world, to get her back in touch with her real feelings, to become mortal again – I know how it is going to happen, but it seems so far away in the story, so much to write between now and then, and what I’ve written doesn’t connect with my dreams, the topic of this rant, and I feel that my best writing comes when it exists in my dreams (waking or sleeping) first, before I try to commit it to paper (or hard disk),

now that was a Freudian slip (that I’ve fixed), a hard dick, see, I’m still thinking of sex way too much, too much for my own sanity, and of him, always of him, I blame him, too, and myself for letting it happen this way, of course, I still love him, and without him I’d be writing nothing at all, not about Alleyn, not about Hora, not fantasy, not my fantasies, nothing, so I guess I have him to thank as well as blame – you may blame him for what I inflict on you, for what you dream, because that’s what I do to you, help you (make you?) dream, to help you fly, to let go of the ground to fly into that land of dreams where we become immortal

powerful, and every story has a happy ending, if we want it to, do you want a happy ending or an ending at all, just the promise of a future, like sex, not a one-nighter, the kind that you know you will have again with your lover, who is always the best, the best for you, that gives you the most complete satisfaction, who completes you, not incomplete like me, except that I need you, my reader, to give me the semblance of completion, that’s the next best thing, dear reader, love me, love my work, and we’ll get along just fine (doesn’t this sound so depressing and shallow?), but we keep going, keep dreaming – do you want to know what I’m dreaming now, he’s at my door, waiting for me to finish this, stepping behind me, hands on my shoulders, massaging my neck, he knows what I want and how to give it to me, kisses the top of my head … excuse me, but my muse wants to inspire me now, so I’ll just slip into something more comfortable, or maybe nothing at all, my rentboy is here, yes, my muse is a … okay, I’ve got to stop writing now, he’s (stop that!) … I’ve got to go …

7. The Wettest of Dreams


skiinsession

YOU dreamt of me last night.  I can tell.  I can smell the sex on you.  It never quite goes away in the shower.  Don’t be embarrassed.  I dreamt of you, too.  I like that kind of dreams.

Did you get up and change your pants?  Or did you sleep in your own mess?  I kept mine on, but of course I wouldn’t make as much of a mess as you.  I love that smell.  I love love love that smell.  I like my smell, too, but it’s not as prolific as yours, all over you, the sheets, the image of me that you dreamt about. Mmmmm.

Oh, you DREAMt of me last night.  Was I role playing or fancy dress?  Maid, nurse, dominatrix, I can do them all in dreams.  I can even do men (if that is what you prefer) – that’s the power of dreams.  They can do anything.  You can’t control them.  I can.  Your dreams, that is.

You dreamt OF ME last night.  Imagine the real thing.  It’s even better.  Do you dream in color?  I do.  Last night’s was red.  Do you hear?  Do you feel?  Do you touch?  I do.  Especially in that kind of dream.  Do you taste?  Taste is my favorite sense; it’s related to smell.  You can tell a lot about a person by how they smell, but taste does it for me.  What did I taste like last night?  Remember?  I do.  The bottom of your feet.  Did you like that?  Loved it.  Remember?  Well, pay better attention, because …

You WILL dream of me TONIGHT.  I hope your partner doesn’t mind.

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