Daydreaming…

I was nearly asleep when the BlackBerry vibrated in my palm. I awoke with a snort and I could hear the gentle derisive giggling of my colleague Rajesh next to me. Of course, only he could have stayed awake through a 138-slide post-lunch ‘strategy’ presentation, the bastard. I looked around and found far more comforting and knowing glances. Amit pointed out our sales manager Prashant in the third row, who was fast asleep and whose breathing could pretty soon be classified as snoring. I smiled at him. I didn’t get it; wasn’t our CEO, till a couple of years ago, one of us in the audience? Do they forget all that up there once they’re on the stage? I hoped I’d gotten some sleep, but as I stared at my watch disbelievingly, I discovered to my horror that we were only 25 minutes into the presentation. Even assuming a paltry minute per slide, I had a long, long way to go…

It took me a minute to remember what had gotten me out of my slumber in the first place. Took out my BB from its holster (the best thing about a BB, if you ask me, and that’s saying something) to see I had a BBM from Rihaa. This was intriguing, for mid-afternoon wasn’t the time she usually pinged.

‘You there?’, it said.

I sat upright in my seat. Sleep, suddenly, was the farthest thing from my mind. BBMs from Rihaa were few and far between and every single time had led to stuff far, far more interesting.

‘Yeah, how’re you?’, I replied.

‘I’m bored, just had a bath and naked on my bed. Care to join?’

For a second, I stared at the screen like an idiot before the smile spread on my face. I knew what Rihaa had in mind, I just did. She had an incredible sex drive, which is how we’d gotten into each other in the first place. The woman was unbelievable.

I glanced up at the boss and then around the room and then almost felt bad for the guy. The entire room was either sleeping or playing angry birds or drooling with jackassed faux-concentration (Rajesh). Surely, the guy deserved better. Just not now, and definitely not from me.  Keeping hot, sex-crazed, naked, wet (in more ways than one) women waiting was something I never, ever did. Sorry Boss, maybe next time.

‘Of course I’ll join.’, I texted back, ‘What are you wearing?’

(Yeah, it was lame. I don’t usually sext. So sue me.)

‘LOL. Just out of my bath, lying on my bed. What do you think?’

‘That white fluffy bathrobe of yours? I love that one.’

“Uh-huh, only its open.’

‘I see you now, on your bed. Right in the middle of it. Open bathrobe, an inviting look. Wow, you look sexy you know, with your wet hair, and flushing pink breasts.’ (This was nice. And I was getting hard. I hadn’t thought sexting would be all that great, but whaddaya know? It was working.)

‘I see you too. In this bed, along with me. On top of me. You’ve got that wild look in your eyes.’

‘Its you, you know that. You always make me horny. I can’t even bear to stand in the same room as you.’ (That was true. We’d both been at a party one time and I spent the evening maniacally running away from her.)

‘Don’t tease. I’m wet enough as it is.’

‘You know its true. Are you touching yourself?’

‘Do you want me to?’

I think this was the point where I started drooling. I was hard, erect and with nowhere to go. I couldn’t possibly leave the room in the middle of the presentation, then again, neither could I leave with a big boner sticking out of my pants. I had an hour alone, in public, with Rihaa.

‘Of course, but I have some work to do there before you start on it.’

‘Go on…’

‘I want to slide my hands under your soft, creamy butt, lift your hips up to mouth and…’

‘And?’

‘And have my favorite meal of the day.’

‘Don’t stop. I want to pull your head ever so deep.’

‘I smell you all around me. Musk and wet pussy. I feel your thighs tighten around my head as I begin.’

‘Please let me feel your tongue.’

‘I lick the lips of your pussy, running my tongue along the edges.’

‘MMMMMMMmmmmmmmmm’

(I think she’s disregarded my request to not begin playing with her pussy at this point, but I digress.)

‘I’m making my way upwards, towards where I know your clit hides, using my tongue to get it out of its shell.’

‘oh fuck me’

‘So soon? No way. My tongue inside your pussy, my mouth against your vagina, your clit and you cant even move from your bed. My head between your thighs, my hands under your buttocks, licking away furiously, all your wetness inside my mouth and you can’t move.’

‘Oh fuck it, come up and kiss me so I can taste my pussy on you…”

‘Uh-huh. I’m going to start on your lips and move down your neck… Licking all the way to your breasts.’

‘Fuck, don’t stop now. I want you in me, you ass…’

‘I think you can touch yourself now.’

‘hahahaha, what makes you think I’m not already?’

(I was right, you see.)

‘My cock can feel the wetness of your pussy, and I’m not even close to inside you…’

‘Go on, fuck me now…’

‘Roll over now. You know I like that.’

‘Oh baby, just fuck my wet pussy.’

‘I want to stand behind you, guiding my cock, into your wet throbbing pussy.’ ‘Wow, its flooded in here.’ ‘So wet I can hardly feel my cock, pounding your pussy as I grab you by the waist, feel your butt on my thigh, as I move in and out.’

‘Fuck, don’t stop…’

‘I can hear the sounds of my cock moving in and out, hard cock against wet pussy, I grab your hair and pull you back.’

‘Fuck me.’ ‘Baby I’m ready to explode.’

‘I’m deep inside you, I don’t think I’ve gone in so much before.’ I don’t think I can last much longer baby…’ ‘You’re so good babe…’

<short break>

‘Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm…..’

‘Ahh…’

‘Wow.’ ‘Thanks.’

‘Any time.’

‘What are you upto anyway?’

‘In a meeting. I frankly have no idea why.’

‘You’re a doll. I owe you one.’

‘Heh. Of course you do. I plan to collect soon too.’

‘Oh, is it? And how soon?’

‘Soon.’

‘I think I’ll go freshen up once again. I’m wet and sticky all over.’

‘Yeah, you do that. I think we’re coming to a close here as well. I’m going to need some time to cool down before I can get up from my chair.’

‘Love’

‘Bye.’

I looked up. Nothing had really changed in the 40-45 mins. I suspect Boss had skipped over some slides when he understood he pretty much had an audience of one. Prashant was actually snoring, God bless his pretty soul. I smiled at the boss and he ruefully smiled back. Brownie points to me for not falling asleep, I guess.We concluded soon after.

‘Hey bastard, first time I see you didn’t actually sleep in a presentation.’, Rajesh’s unique brand of complimenting was out in full force, I saw.

‘Yeah, because I was fucking your wife in my daydreams madarchod.’, I replied. I wasn’t kidding around, I needed to get to a restroom and jack off, quick.

‘Yeah, like you have a chance with her, bhe…..’. I didn’t quite get that because I slammed the restroom door on his face, but I think I know what he was getting at.

I got out five minutes later to see him strolling around the corridor, talking on the phone. I was just about to go upto him and shout obscenities into his phone (juvenile, I know, but I swear to God the fucker brings it out in me), when he turned around and saw me. He put his finger on his lips and silently mouthed, “On the phone with Rihaa…”. His wife.

Moron.

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Nuggets

When you’re having sex with another person, in 9/10, or maybe 99/100 cases, you are obligated to bring the other person to orgasm. More so, if its a casual fling or a one-night stand or a fuck-buddy. There is no other relationship between you besides the sex, go you are honor-bound to perform to the best of your abilities every time. With a steady partner, you always have the option of taking a rain-check, with the understanding that (a) you cannot complain when the same is done to you at a later point of time and (b) you have to return the favor (with interest, if you want to be all sweet about it) the next time. No two consecutive passes.

However, if you’re heterosexual and having sex with a female, you’ll know that getting them to orgasm on a regular basis is tough, which is somehow surprising, given the ability of women to achieve multiple orgasms. (I don’t know if this is an implicit confession of my personal ineptitude in bed and if it is, I must get better soon) While with men, you know that the grind is going to do it for them sooner or later, women are quite complex in bed. They have to be primed right, foreplay is paramount and you have to time yourself to make sure there is some synchronicity between your orgasm and hers. Coming together is a wonderful, wonderful experience. Try for it, don’t make it your aim. All this, when frankly, these things are the farthest from your mind. Which is why you have to practice and imbibe in yourself the pleasure of giving. Whenever you’re with a woman, make it your goal that she will not leave your bed without an orgasm. Learn to fuck better, learn to lick better, learn to suck better, to kiss better, hell, even to finger better (believe me, the last one will help you out, as much, if not more times than the others will). And these things only come through practice. Every time you fuck, let it be a learning experience. Remember the cues she gives and use them the next time. Use your imagination, use your strength, use your stamina. Learn, learn, learn. Learn to nudge, to push, to take the sexual experience to roads not taken before. Figure out your comfort positions. Figure out your orgasm positions. Experiment, experiment, experiment. Take your time learning. You’re not going to master it all the first time. If you DO get it right the first time, it was a fluke and it might not work the next time. This bit is important. It might not work the next time, but you can be darned sure that it will some other time. Keep it at the back of your mind. Encourage each other to communicate. The body gives its own cues, learn to recognize. Do things you’re not entirely comfortable thinking about. Try everything at least once, preferably twice. Learn to say no. Learn to hear no. Learn to go on after you’re done. Learn to go on till she is.

I’ve been wanting to write this for a long time (ever since I read this, actually) and it somehow appeared today. There’s probably more that I will add to this topic, over time. But let the crux get out there.

In connection with this, I’ve also created a small poll that I hope you’ll take time out to answer. Its anonymous of course, but as ever, I’d love to hear from you. For all my gay and lesbian friends out there, I couldn’t figure out a way to get you in on this poll, so do let me hear on that as well.

Everyone deserves a good orgasm. Even you.

P.S.: Oh, and men? If you think a woman is faking an orgasm after sex, see her post-orgasm reaction. If she’s still sprightly and seems energetic and ready (in any manner), she was mostly faking it. If she’s tired and spent out of her mind (and sore as hell), well, congratulations, you done good. (Although I must tell you that this is anecdotal, from stuff I’ve heard or discussed, but I’d love your feedback on this.)

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Twists and Turns…

When my balls are full and the bed is empty / Not for a moment do I get senti / Me and my dick are two of a kind / We love pussy, we love the grind

In its absence we don’t despair / With our three eyes, no woman do we spare / You may be fat, skinny, black or white / We don’t care as long as you’re tight

Wine, dine, baby so fine / Yeah, even I wear Calvin Klein / So what if it ain’t, on the outside / They ain’t gonna be there for the whole ride

Slippery slappery gobbledygook / You ain’t gettin nowhere with that book / Enter, enter this house of incest / Daddy knows good, he knows what’s best

One night, and a morning of debauchery / If it isn’t already, I’ll pop your cherry / I’m not the one you take home to Mom / That’s coz I have her on CD-ROM

Groanin, moanin and bumpin your head / That ain’t wood, that’s a metal bedstead / Oh fuck babydoll, whatchoo’ done / That ain’t a dildo, that’s my gun

Fuck crazy bitch gone and blown to shit / Vajazzled a bullet into her tit / Blood and guts and puke all around / I think that’s her tongue on the ground

So many drugs found in your spleen / Fuck bitch were you only sixteen / I’m in prison, I’m in jail / Cocks all round me, I’m a piece of tail

Taking turns on a virgin asshole / Well, not quite after that first night in gaol / I’ve been owned, I’m someone else’s bitch / You walk past me and my butt-cheeks twitch

That’s why kids, never play with guns / And if you wanna fuck, the best choices are nuns / They don’t care about the size of your rod / And pleasing them is also an Act of God

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Naughty Worker?

Hello. A few questions keep running through my head and since I have a blog, why not put them out there? This is the first of a few polls I have in mind. Do reply. I gather the replies are anonymous.

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No Nudity Wasted…

Dear Penney,

This might be the last time I’m penning you. No, that wasn’t a pun you silly girl; just a statement of fact.While I pray we’ll bump into each other more often (literally speaking), I realize that the odds are against such happenings, and yet present enough to give me enough hope to last a lifetime.Well, life’s too short and too damn long at the same time, innit?

As I was saying before that short interruption, there I was, slumped on the couch, too spent to even think of what to do next, and you kissing my forehead. I’ll admit it, I was confused. Do I respond? Do I zip up my pants and bid you farewell?  Yes, I do realize I was stupid. Why was  I thinking in the first place? You had shown clearly enough that you would be in control. As you began to make way down my face, stopping for a brief kiss on the lips, I realized that the night was far from over. As long as you were naked, there would be no stopping. Makes perfect sense, when you think about it. Why waste all that precious nudity?

If you remember, I was still completely clothed at the time and the thrill of physical contact without nudity is one of my life’s seldom-indulged-in-pleasures. As you sucked my nipples through my shirt, I felt thrilled, a sensation so similar to the usual unprotected suckling, and yet so marvelously different. I really must try this more often! You didn’t stop there for long, of course. Even while your mouth was busy sucking, I could feel your hand reaching down towards my cock, searching for proof that yes, you were as proficient at your craft as my moans alleged. To the surprise of precisely none of us, it was hard again. And with that you stood up, and offered your hand. You were already walking to the chair by the time I took it and made me sit down. Now, armless chairs aren’t the greatest for sitting upon, but for fucking? Its like a prop built for pleasure. As I sat down, with my cock pointed straight up at you, you smiled that dastardly smile once again and stood in front of me, your pert breasts (I love how this word perfectly describes your breasts, they’re just so pert!) right in front of my mouth. I knew I wasn’t allowed to touch them though, not until you’d begun doing what you had in mind.

You know that moment when you’ve just crossed your arms behind my shoulders and you’re pussy is about to get filled with my cock? There’s a microsecond there which captures a moment which is absolutely unique in lovemaking. Its when the tip of my cock just meets the lips of your pussy and the wetness there causes a little tingle, like the first toe you dip in the water at the beach. I look forward to it every time. If you barge in straight without noticing such things, good things will remain good, because really, there’s nothing un-pleasurable about fucking, but sometimes it pays to notice such things, wouldn’t you agree?

Now, don’t get worked up. I assure you that these things were farthest on my mind as I slowly, surely disappeared inside you. The feeling, incredible as it is, was accentuated by the fact that it was YOU I was disappearing into. You, whom I’d craved for years, who I’d considered so unattainable that I’d even stopped fantasizing about, you of the perfect waist and even-more-perfectly proportioned breasts. Just you.

 

You do take this business of giving pleasure rather seriously, don’t you? Your aim is to spoil every man who shares your bed for any other woman who might have him. They can go a thousand, a million miles but there’s no other place they’d be, than on top, or below or beside you. My role that night was pretty much limited to holding your buttocks while you ground my penis with the sort of dedication an athlete could admire. In case you didn’t notice, for you really did seem to be in some kind of a trance, I did manage to get a bite or two of your pert breasts (I’m sorry, just couldn’t resist). They really are most incredibly edible. A mouthful and a bit more, the perfect quantity. Anything more than a mouthful is a waste, wouldn’t you agree?

And so we came. Come on, it was a dream, did you really expect something different? Coming together, your breast in my mouth, one final push and then, explosions. Spurts inside, contractions, liquids and then, a scream. A primal scream, from your throat. I cushioned my head between your breasts and we sat there for some time, huffing. I remember carrying you to the bed and falling asleep. No more action, no conversation.

You weren’t there when I woke up the next morning. I didn’t expect you would be, either. We haven’t spoken since, and I suspect we won’t again. But I’ll always have that one fantastic unforgettable night, when I was yours and you, in that magical dream-land.

Thank you for indulging me, and indulging in me.

Truly yours,

Sin.

 

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May I, Ma’am?

Dear Penney,

How have you been?  We don’t normally talk, do we? That’s putting it a little mildly; we never talk. How many years has it been, four? Most of what I write below might seem outrageous to you, vulgar even, but I hope you find it in your heart to not forever be disgusted.

Have I ever told you I remember exactly what you were wearing, the first time I saw you, all those many years ago? I’d been told to expect you in my class. Half the guys in college wanted to shift to our class, solely because you were in it. I’d heard tales upon tall tales of how incredibly beautiful you were. And the contrarian prick that I was, I was determined to not like you. Not anything personal of course, but I was determined to not be taken in by you and your famed beauty, regardless of whether it was conventional, old-school or avant garde.

In true diva-style you didn’t turn up for the first three days. And then on the fourth, there you were. Wearing that blue top and skinny jeans with those outrageously large, circular earrings I’ll never forget. And I went all……Meh. I genuinely did not feel that you justified the hype surrounding you. Little did I know that I had caught you on your one bad day in the entire fornicating decade.

We worked together for some time, for that thing that time. And I swear, the first day I found out we’d be together, I swore I wouldn’t think of you in a sexual way, in any way other than as a co-worker, and for two years, barring the odd stray thought or two, I never did. That reminds me, I have to thank you for that, for I never figured you were training me. No, I don’t mean that I had to work again with a co-worker who was as beautifully, perfectly sculpted as you are; because lets face it, what are the chances that I could be as insanely lucky as to find a co-worker as hot as you again? Its just that I had to train this slim, big-bosomed young thing for a year, and the two years I spent talking straight to your face (and into your forehead) really paid off.

I seem to be rambling again, don’t I? You really must form your opinion on me based on hearsay, rather than the few feeble attempts at wisecracking I attempt in your presence because generally, I’m not half as bad as I seem to be in front of you. And there I go again!

Getting to the point, the entire aim of writing this missive is because you deemed it fit to appear in an extremely provocative and god-bless-your-delicate-little-breasts, massively cock-raising dream I had the other day. True to form, you did make what I am positive will be a once in a lifetime appearance during this, but I’d rather not complain. Such memories, illusory as they may be, do tend to stick around, and I have relived the dream enough times hence to be reasonably sure that I will not be forgetting this in a hurry.

You’re curious. Morbidly, but curious nonetheless. Let me lay it out for you then. By some random circumstance, you and me are on a date. A quiet, home-grown date. This song, one of your favorites, I know, plays in the background. A dainty meal graces the table, set in the middle of my living room. A small square table, with just enough space for the breads and the red wine. A red tablecloth, maroon almost. Now, I don’t drink of course, but to imagine such a meal without wine on your lips would be a travesty, and for all my failings, travesties are not what I commit in such situations.

We’re smiling, too. Later, I will feel surprise on this rather unusual occurrence but at the moment, it seems like the perfect thing to do. Why shouldn’t we be smiling? Why shouldn’t we be passing on the bread-basket and having a perfectly good chat? Why shouldn’t we finish up, and over my protestations, you help me clear the table? Why then, should we not gaze into the nothingness of the hills that lay outside the house, although the darkness, that wicked ally of all sinners past and present, had long since settled in, knowing what would yet come, having seen tableaux such as ours time and again?

I confess, I did not think, did not hope that we’d go any further. I did not know what miracle had caused us to have that dinner, that almost-romantic evening, but I sure wasn’t going to ruin the night by trying to get physical. Exactly why I was thinking that way, whilst even the breeze flowing by was whispering, “Kiss her, you idiot” is beyond my comprehension, but then I’ve always had trouble thinking straight around you anyway.

You turned. And looked me in the eye and said “Fuck Me”. And that was it, no preambles, no soft touches, no intertwining of hands, nothing. You deigned me worthy enough to gaze upon your naked flesh and thusly, I was blessed. Even in a dream, lady, I cannot imagine touching you without first obtaining your consent. That is the power you hold upon me, and to the day I die, you will.

You were wearing a light-brown gown, two pieces of cloth held together by flimsy threads, and my shock had not yet subsided by the time you finished getting out of those. You weren’t naked, black was always a good color on you, and the low lighting combined with that racy lace bra of yours combined to give me erection the likes of which I’ve been scarcely privileged to get. To your credit, you didn’t burst out laughing at the spontaneity of my involuntary gesture, you understood. I’m not sure how accustomed you are to random pants tightening in your presence, but years of inhabiting a body such as yours must have given you some practice, yes?

It was when you leaned in to kiss me that I finally came to my senses. This was a moment I’d waited for years, and I’d be damned if I was letting it get away from me. Of course, I wasn’t prepared for the double whammy that was the touch of your gently moist lips on my nervous ones, and your hands working on cupping my testicles. Channeling yourself some Johnny Fontane, were you? You realized my utter bewilderment, and giggled. When you rocked your head back with that darned half-smile, I knew I’d lost. Tonight would be yours. And so would any other night you’d choose. I realized you knew exactly the limitlessness of the power you had upon me, and I didn’t care.All I wanted was that precious little jewel of a body next to mine, on top of mine or below mine on a bed. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else stood a chance.

Now, before I move further ahead, you must tell me, do you wish me to continue? I insist. After all, this is but my dream. Little one, there were far more interesting things that happened that night, things that I’d only be too happy to share. But I must ask you this, do you wish to hear more from me? Or do you wish to stop our correspondence here? Tell me, what do you feel right now? Is it revulsion, interest, or dare I ask, arousal? If even the tiniest sliver of  your perfect little body wishes me to continue, pray do not silence it. Do reply and I shall continue.

Till then, with all my heart, I await your response.

Truly yours,

Sin.

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