Finger In The Honey Pot

I just learned new slang word tonight, "fapper." I'm usually up on things, and pride myself as such, but somehow that word got under my crusty 30 something year old radar. To "Fap" is to jerk off. "Shikking" is for chicks. It is apparently derived from a comic onomatopoeia. Not my scene, but I appreciate the lingo.

Anyway later on I decided to relax after a stressful day by stretching out on my bed with my hands in my panties. While I was conjuring up a sexy fantasy, which being ADHD sometimes involves some mental channel surfing. So in the midst of imagining going down on this hot chick I ran into this weekend. This truly gorgeous girl once who once finger fucked in my friend's bathroom and said shit like "You like me fucking you slut." So I'm getting myself in the mood, and then I realized something very current:

Teacher is my first long time lover who has not requested to see me masturbate.

It got me wondering. Is it because he's older and is jaded? Is it just not his thing, or he has just not got around to it? Maybe being non-Vanilla its no big deal. After all he's the first truly non-Vanilla man to get his hands on my pussy.

Now that I bring it up, I must mention it is a non-issue. I could care less if he never asked me to do as such. Of course if he asked, I would oblige, no problem. None at all .

Tingle Belle

This story just made a very stressed out Teacher laugh, so I am pretty certain you guys will enjoy it as well. I've had to edit a few details to protect the innocent, but 99.9% of it is true.

This morning I had to get up at the ass crack of dawn to great the great unwashed masses clutching their sales fliers. I'm all for a bargain, but I'm more so for having a good night's sleep. People who shop this early in the morning scare me.

As luck would have it, I was instructed, much to my greedy salesperson chagrin, to go take care of some bullshit paperwork. I don't like the shoppers, but I do like their money.

Jacked up on coffee, I still struggled to keep my eyes open at the computer. I stopped ever so often for a break, and then went back to my brain numbing task. Then, it hit me.

It was like I had a girl boner. I don't even think there is a name for it. Is there? Womanwood? I don't know if it was lack of sleep, too much caffeine, boredom, Buproprion (which I've been on for years,) or Teacher sending me psychic sex messages, but my clit was pulsing and throbbing. If I were a guy I would have had pitched a tent. Well,his feeling was not only unexpected, but inconvenient. How the hell was I going to relieve this sudden insane tingling in my pussy in a store full of cameras that could zoom down to the serial number on a dollar bill?

I tried to ignore it. I squeeze my legs together, but that only made it worse, as I sometimes masturbate that way. Then I thought maybe I just had to pee. I peed, came back to the computer and still I was on the edge.

Unlike some of my favorite bloggers, I have not been trained to cum on command, or I would have called Teacher for some help. So I attempted to focus, all the while squirming in my seat.

Finally I just could not take it any more, my clit needed to be rubbed. My poor engorged girl cock (I like that phrase, but maybe it is gross), needed release.

I trudged down to a bathroom that is so hidden, it is pretty much always vacant. No pun intended, but i made a piss poor attempt at rubbing my clit while sitting on the toilet. I'm just not into that, so I pulled my damp panties back up and thought about just suffering through it.

As I straighted out my blouse, I smelled the scent of my pussy on my fingers and it only made my hormones rage harder. I was going to take care of this for once and for all. I leaned against the tile, holding on to the banister and squeezed my thighs together, mind you I was fully clothed. As I squeezed I fantasized that Teacher had planted some sort of orgasm que in my subconscious, and him saying "Come X..my dirty little sub."

So there I was in a department store bathroom during the height of Christmas madness masturbating in the ladies room! I tried to muffle my breathing, closed my eyes, and focused on clenching my two legs together.The beauty of my thighs squeezing technique is that it not only gives me a clitoral orgasm, but an internal one as well.

It didn't take yours truly too long to come. It came in one quick wave from my cunt, crashing down over my entire body, as faced the tile wall, clenching the hand rail.

I took a moment to get back to Earth, washed my hands, and went back to the drudgery. Still, this bizarre, yet welcome interruption did not dissipate despite my hard work. I somehow made it though, and drove home like NASCAR driver, and ripped my panties off and went to work-on myself!

Even still, as I write, I am thinking this is not the end of me jingling my bell today.

Happy Holidays!

This Is Why I'm Hot...

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Here Comes Sickness Part 1

Last night I happened upon the most hilarious niche porn -"KleanX (sic) Queens" aka "TissueGirls." A whole site devoted to women, excuse me teens, with a single ply of tissue on their breasts and, go figure, stuck to their wet snatches. Hey, whatever makes you happy, it certainly seems to be an inexpensive and harmless fetish to have. Just imagine this scenario:

"Hey baby, I want to cover you with some Puffs Plus With Aloe."

"No honey, I told you I need the protection of the Kleenex Antibacterial Two Ply"

"OK, damnit, but you know I can't feel anything through the two ply!"
"Sorry darling, two ply or you don't fly." He walks away to get the box of tissues.

"Crap baby, we're all out. How about some paper towels?"

Anyway, I was telling the Dr. Spankenstein about this, as well as the hoax Girls with Runny Noses site, as it was oh so amusing to me. When we got off the phone I starting thinking about it. When I get sick, I am always horny. Very horny. The taste of cough syrup, a scratchy throat, and a slight fever get me hot. Weird, I know. But then I started remembering why. There are two possible reasons.

Reason Number 1:

I'm not certain when I actually started masturbating on a regular basis. I'm guessing it was around 11 or 12, though I had a tribbing experience with a childhood friend at 10 that I still would like to recreate one day. Such naughty girls we were, laying on my parents rug, checking out each other's public hair progress (mind you that is before pubic topiary), and I don't remember how we got from that to laying on each other and grinding, but it was definitely my first orgasm. OK, so back to the sickness.

So, around the time I discovered the joys of self-love, I didn't have much privacy to get down with myself unless my parents were gone or during the night. I really wanted though, to do more than just lay under my Holly Hobbie sheets and rub my tween twat. So rare were the times when I was home all by myself, with my parents or sibling, that only a weekday common cold and a day off of school would give me hours of alone time.

So, from then until the time I moved out of my parents house to go to college, every time I was sick, I'd have a full-on masturbate-a-thon! Staying in bed was not an option, and if I did I had my hand in my panties.

I'd plow through my parents bookshelf, looking for a few pages of smut to get off. I had two favorites, "The Hite Report" which was a survey ala Kinsey of womens's different sexual experiences. That's were I got the idea to sit on top of the clothes drier and enjoy tingles of the tumble. The other one was Anais Nin's "Delta of Venus." I can still see the cover, it was a woman in twenties regalia. This was my first taste of erotica.

Other sources of arousal during those runny nosed days of pubescent pleasure was to take inventory of myself in the full length mirror. Checking out the growth of the breasts that I was told were "the best in the 8th grade," by the school bully. Upon discovering the layers and folds of my pussy, there she was that little pencil eraser of love, my ultra sensitive clit that was almost painful to touch directly (God, I wish that was the case now!). Hairbrushes, a curling iron were all inserted into my tight virgin vagina. It didn't take me very long to cum, and cum I did, enjoying the intense pulses that I am unsure I knew they were actually called an orgasm. I recall admiring the after effects of my cunt in the mirror, how my pussy had gotten puffy, and the moisture that was now down my legs.

I know it is cliche for boys to look for their dad's porno stash, but this girl looked for her dad's as well. Hustler, Cheri, all the good stuff. Thankfully, I never saw anything that disturbed me, save some lay out of a woman with three breasts. Till this day I think that is why I like seeing a decent muff on a chick. Bald is so boring these days.

Of course, you hear the sordid tales of young boys trying on their mother's lingerie, well I did that too. While I never felt too bad about looking at my dad's mags, I did feel guilty for putting on my mom's nighties and heels, but my nubile ass looked so hot in the black lace and I recall getting wet just looking at myself in the mirror over the dresser. Of course, there was always a bit of fear of getting caught, but even then, that too was sexy. Till this day, I am still pining for a replica of this specific sheer pink set complete with a marabou trimmed robe, and frou-frou marabou slippers. A teen femme fatale. Of course, I was unaware of the perversions of older men, how the image of a young girl in lingerie could absolutely wreck them.

That is reason one, why the common cold gets me clamoring for my vibrator or the nearest cock. I'll share reason two with you all later this week.

Soundtrack to this post:

Mudhoney "Here Comes Sickness"