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I Put on A Cock

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Hi, my name’s Liz. I’m not about to tell you how old I am — but I have a 25 year old son, so that should give you a sense. I’ve only just stopped coloring my hair and begun letting a whole lot of silver to emerge. I no longer have the slim figure I did before having my son; I gained nicely in the boob department, but picked up some extra padding all over. In other words, I’m much softer and curvier than I was. I’ve been married and divorced. I try to date, but most of the time I seem to wind up with the wrong guys. Wrong, as in, I’m more interested in sex than they are! After a couple of dates, they lose interest and since that seminar I took really didn’t provide any answers, I guess I’ll have to keep at it until I figure out what that is all about. I know it isn’t about technique, or what I’m unwilling to do, because I enjoy almost everything and I’m even good at some things.

My best friend did say one really smart, intuitive thing — it might be because I was just as determined as the guys to enjoy myself in bed, and she thought that put them off. But damn it, I’m not going to be a “lie back and do me and I’ll fake it if I don’t get off” machine! Nope. Not me. Every once in a while, sex without orgasm is okay — but tell me how many guys do you know would be happy if they didn’t squirt their juice?

From time to time I throw caution to the winds and just go out hunting for dick. Or Dick’s dick. I’m not above a one-night stand — and if a guy can keep it standing for a whole night, then I’ll sign on until we hit that “groundhog day” experience of him not returning my calls and then my writing him off. Other than that, I have a pretty varied selection of toys I use to amuse myself. I enjoy sex, and consider myself pretty sophisticated in the matter. When guys I liked wanted something, I’ve always been willing to try. At least. That’s how you learn, right? I’ve spent lots of time on the Internet learning things – things that my younger self didn’t have any opportunity to learn about.

Like with my ex — he saw the movie “Deep Throat” and became obsessed. Or maybe he saw some of the versions of it after the original, I’m not sure. Since I was 15 years older, we may actually be talking about different films! He thought it would be the ultimate if I could do that for him. So I “researched” the whole thing. Read books on sword swallowing (since they seem to be able to swallow ANYTHING!); read a bunch of “how to” articles and watched a lot of videos. One thing I learned was that the gay guys seemed to enjoy giving blowjobs more than woman! Gay cock suckers seemed to be in charge of the blowjob — in straight porn the guys (or at least their cocks) were in charge. They seemed to be more about dominating and abusing women than watching a skillfully done blowjob. I figured gays were proud of their skills and loved their work, while for most women, sucking dick is usually more about getting him hard enough to fuck. But since the gay guys seem to get off on the sucking (and I know they don’t have anything like a clit in their throats), I figured there had to be something else in it. Wasn’t sure what, though.

Anyway, after all that research, I used some of my toys and got control of my gag reflex, and even began to get comfortable with getting something in my throat. So when his birthday came around, I made a big deal of it. I set up my room with candles and soft music, dressed real sexy in a see-through bra and panty set with garters and stockings, and then had him strip, had him lie down on the bed and tied his arms and legs to it. By now his cock was as hard as I ever saw it, and I barely got him in my mouth before he let fly with his come. I was disappointed that I couldn’t show off my new “skills.” Anyway, I left him tied up, took off the blind fold and just stood there by the side of his bed, my nipples hard and tingling, my pussy wet and dripping, and let him look. Amazingly enough, he got hard pretty again pretty quickly, and then I finally gave him his present. He was — to use a poor pun — “blown away.” And I discovered what those guys who were swallowing big cocks got out of it — they got recognized as being special!

Over time, it seemed that that my ability to bury my nose in his pubes and suck his cock into my throat wasn’t good enough for him. Even though he swore it was the most amazing experience, and no one ever was able to swallow his entire dick before, two months later I found him fucking his secretary when I stopped by his office. PIG! At least I knew I had a skill I didn’t have before. And it was kinda similar with another boyfriend later on — he was begging me for anal sex. So I investigated. And practiced and prepared. I wasn’t getting a lot out of my shoving stuff up my ass — after all, my clit is on the other side of my body — but somehow I thought that maybe if I wasn’t trying to do all the in-and-out with my hands and could just concentrate on the sensations, I would possibly achieve an anal orgasm. public agent porno

Ha! If such a thing exists, that guy was never going to make it happen — his record in our relationship was that he stayed hard for about a minute after he managed to work his dick in my ass — and then he came and was useless. So, now I had managed to investigate another common porn trope, only to find that — at least so far — it was way better for the guy than the woman. After we broke up, I tried to avoid anal — unless I was well lubricated. With alcohol, that is. Every once in a while it was worthwhile if the guy kept it up longer than that boyfriend.

Anyway, lately I’d been content to go about life and not worry about whether or not I had a man in my life. I was even thinking that, from a practical point of view, I was better off. I didn’t have to worry if the toilet seat was down — I always put it down. I didn’t have to deal with strange hairs, odd smells and other stuff. If I was horny, I know I’m pretty enough and could show off a pretty attractive set of boobs and I can get a man for sex. If I was desperate, that is. Most of the time, when I was horny, my toys were more convenient. I didn’t have to get even get dressed — let alone put on makeup – to use them. They were guaranteed to remain hard long enough to get me off, and didn’t ever make a mess in the house or raid my refrigerator.

But truthfully, there’s really nothing like a relationship with a human being. With all the wacky stuff that it entails, and even the potential heartbreak and disappointment. So I decided to take a seminar on Sex and Relations. I thought maybe I could break out of my rut; that maybe some of the guys in it might be the right ones –as it turned out, however, I pretty much knew all of them and had really written them all off. Not my type, I said to myself. But we had a small group that spoke weekly: 3 guys, another woman and myself. While we were together, I refused to let my fantasies run wild. Now that it’s over, I think I may need new batteries for some of my toys. I guess I ought to invest in re-usables at some point. Or something, because even just toying with the idea of creating a fantasy with a group like that has got me wet, you know where! Imagine what I might think up and where that might go. Damn! I’m going to have to set this aside for a bit and take care of Mama’s Honey Biscuit!

Where was I? Oh yes. The seminar. Where we talked about sex and bodies and what we were hiding and what we were looking for and who said it had to be a particular way anyway, and so on. Some of the discussions got into some heavily emotional areas. Some were pretty funny. But everybody had something in the area that wasn’t right about themselves. It’s not that we had a big sex party when we were done — although more than a few shared about how the frequency AND quality had improved along the way. No, it was that over the three months that we met as a big group and as a small group inside it, we spoke about and shared some pretty significant stuff about ourselves.

As we concluded the night and the whole multi-month odyssey, I remembered that the oldest guy in our group had made a comment about how he wrote pornographic stories. So I said something, and before I knew it he had written down www..com and gave me his writing name, which wasn’t the same as his given name. I came to understand why, eventually. So, one night shortly after the seminar ended, I had more than a little wine and some Willie’s Reserve Private Stock that I brought back from Colorado, and went to Literotica. Holy shit! I didn’t know that there were that many different categories of things that people wrote about — let alone did! Lots of them!

First, I searched on his author name, and he had over 60 stories there. Some were multipart stories. Others stood alone but were clustered in different categories. Group Sex. Incest. Gay. And more. Clearly, I had stumbled on a gold mine! Because, unlike guys, I’m not as immediately excited by images as they are. But give me something where I can use my imagination to color in the shapes a writer gives me and I’m gone! I think it comes from starting on some of those bosom busters — the romance novels. As I grew, good descriptions of bodies and sex drew my attention, and I had a pretty hefty library of steamy stuff that I would pull out, open to a chapter and see what came to hand. I was a big fan of those Penthouse letters, although I had to wonder if the letters supposed to be from women weren’t more the product of Guccione’s imagination.

Regardless, the written word got me hot and here was a website that appeared to be for one simple thing — getting people hot. And so, I began to explore. I read my friend’s stuff — I though he wrote a woman’s first-person story believably. Some of the situations and descriptions got me horny and I lay back and got off. A lot! I read a few he had written about reality kings porno some women who were size queens, and that got me really interested. I doubt I’d tell a guy to his face that his dick was too small — and, it seems that those guys, when I went out with them, did their level best to make up for the shortage with some amazing tongues! — but let’s face it, the best times I had had were with guys who were large enough to stretch me. Not sure I wanted to fuck some dude with a baseball bat between his legs, but stories about the big guys were especially exciting. At the very least, I had to use the largest toy in my box. In my box. Tee-hee!

That first night, I guess I made it through about 5 or 6 stories before my batteries wore out and I was drying out. Since I didn’t have any lube, I stopped for the night and slept amazingly well. Hell, I even overslept the next morning and was barely on time for work! Throughout the day I applied myself, but as the work slowed down I found myself thinking about some of those stories. So eventually I locked my office door, took my panties off, hiked up my skirt, sat down and spread my legs. I was feeling both horny and naughty — I was taking a big chance at work, after all. I did one thing that I thought was smart — I used the private browsing mode on a browser on my computer so they couldn’t look at it and know where I’d been browsing. I eventually found out it wasn’t as smart as I thought. But maybe that’s another story.

After Literotica loaded, I went back to his series on women looking for larger cocks and began to read it. And once again I found myself imagining something long, hot and thick filling my cunt. I really wanted to get naked but figured that could really become a problem. So I squeezed my boobs between my arms as I reached down to my clit and pussy to play with them. Not quite the same, but it was enough because before I’d finished his story I was coming, repeatedly. I finally had to stop playing with myself, since it was getting near the end of the day. I found one thing I had not noticed before — there were suggested stories at the end of his — and not just his. Holy Shit! It must mean that there are other folks whose minds are at least as dirty as his. Or mine!

But the guy wrote about a whole bunch of stuff that I had never investigated before. I mean, no romance book I ever read talked about a guy who got into the anonymity of glory holes and secretly sucked cock! Not only did he have a few about that, turns out that was a pretty common fantasy there. And not just guys — there were stories about women getting off on putting themselves in a booth with holes in the wall and then sucking what ever came through. I was sort of puzzled by my reactions, since I had never considered anything like that, but I must have spent a week going through all sorts of glory hole stories. The idea of letting loose my inner slut and no one knowing it was me was exciting. I’d like to find out who it was that complained and had Craigslist remove the personals — because as it turned out, a lot of those stories revolved around them. I guess I was just behind the times. Damn!

I kept reading. I kept returning to my friend’s stuff, and after I was no longer aroused by a particular story of his, I’d go searching for other stories about the subject. I mean, let’s face it — there are only so many times you can read a story about sex before it loses it’s pull and you need something new, right? I discovered I was a lot like my ex and my old boyfriends in that way — when the novelty wore off, I needed something new. It put my past in a different perspective; it also had me thinking that if there was going to be another man in my life, it would have to be different than before.

I began to run across stories about women being dominated by women, and boy did that turn a switch in my crotch! Holy shit! I mean, I’d done a little girl-on-girl stuff in college (I had a professor who surprised me in her office, and she knew her way around my body. I liked it. A woman knows what a woman wants. I didn’t reciprocate at the time, however) and let’s face it — we women know what pussy tastes like. Cocks taste different after they’ve been inside you and picked up your juices. We all know that.

But the idea of a powerful woman taking charge and forcing herself on me was breathtaking. I made a mental note to read more about that, and to figure out how I could possibly manage that in real life. I was obviously aroused by it — and now, on my own, I could do anything I wanted. Or try anything that seemed interesting. And then I tumbled onto a story about pegging. In case you don’t know, pegging is where a woman straps on a dildo and fucks a man’s ass. Sometimes it’s about dominance. Sometimes it’s just because it’s what the guys wants. Whatever the reason, just the thought of that was like I had applied an electric wire to my clit! A page into the story and rus porno I had already come once just playing with my clit; after the orgasms subsided, I got a big butt plug, lubed it and inserted it, took an eight inch, realistic dildo and buried it in my vag, and was holding a vibrator on my clit! I suppose the only thing missing was something in my mouth — but everything else made up for it. Reading about reaming some guy’s ass had me hotter than I’d ever recall being. I lost count of my orgasms.

And that was just one story! As you can expect, there were plenty more on the subject. Reading them over the next few weeks convinced me — I had to try it. Something about it was telling me I needed to strap one on and fuck some guy. But how was I going to find a guy? Never saw anything like it in any of the personals or the dating sites. I thought about trying some of those “facebook for fuckers” type of sites, but rejected them. Then the light bulb went off! I knew a bunch of gay guys; I had even been to more than a few of their marriage ceremonies.

It was a brilliant idea — but that didn’t mean it was easy. It took me about a week to finally work up the nerve to find the phone number for one of the guys from that seminar; one who I knew was married. So I took a chance and called.

I was nervous dialing. And then he picked up! “Hello, this is Tony.”

“Hi, Tony, this is Liz. From the Sex and Relations seminar.” I said.

“Hi, Liz. Look, I already told them I was taking a break before doing another seminar” he replied.

“No, no, I’m not calling on their behalf. This is sort of personal. Like very personal. I’m not sure how to begin….” I paused, hoping that he’d somehow intuit my request. But it was silent on his end. “Um, I’m calling because I need some assistance, and I thought you might be able to point me in the right direction.”

After a long pause, he said “Go on.”

“This is embarrassing, but here goes. I’ve been reading a lot of porn on Literotica. Have you ever been to that site?”

“Hell yes. Both Darren and I keep finding all kinds of new stuff there. But I never pictured you, or that you would enjoy that….” He chuckled, and spoke to someone not on the call. “It’s Liz, from Sex and Relations. She’s been reading a lot of porn on Literotica and wants to talk. My bet is that she got it from that old guy in the seminar we took.” There was some sort of answer I couldn’t quite hear.

“Sorry, Liz, I was just filling Darren in. Wouldn’t want to have him thinking I was talking about sex with another dude. When he heard it was a woman, he relaxed! Anyway, what can I do for you?””

“Well, you’ve heard of pegging, right?” I asked.

“Oh, you mean sissy sex?” He laughed.

“What do you mean, sissy sex?” I asked.

“See, the way we see it, it’s really just guys too sissy to admit they want to feel a real dick up their butts.” We both laughed.

“Well, regardless, I’ve become obsessed with it! I read a story and got so turned on I couldn’t believe it. Now, all I think about is wanting to take my biggest dildo and fuck some guy’s ass with it….”

“Oh, I see. You think because I’m gay I take it up the ass? Kind of stereotypical isn’t it?” His voice had suddenly gained an edge.

“No. Well, yes. Er, no. You jumped a step or two on me. I can’t even conceive of how to tell some stranger I want to do it. I thought that, with the two of you, one of you probably enjoys it — not necessarily you — but maybe, somehow, I could find some way to live out that vision with you guys.” There was silence on the other end of the phone. This time, I simply waited.

“Hmmm….let me get with Darren and talk about it. I’m liking the possibilities — but he’s the bottom, and he’s got to be fine with this. I’ll call you back.” He hung up.

Now I had done it. I can’t recall ever being so nervous. Now not only one guy, but two of them were going to find out that my mind was “Tiffany twisted” as the Eagles sang. What were they going to talk about? Oh well. I’m a slut. Why hide it? Not going to put an ad online, but let’s at least let this one string play out.

I poured myself a large glass of white wine, and sat down with PBS on the tube. Figured I better stay away from the website while I was waiting. I was relaxed and into whatever show was on with the phone rang. From the caller I id, it was Tony.

“Hi, Tony! What did you and Darren decide?” I asked without waiting.

“Uh, no, Liz, this is Darren. Not Tony.”

“Oh. Hi. Did he tell you what I was asking?”

“Yes, and that’s why I am calling. See, Tony’s a real macho stud type of guy. Give him an opportunity to talk about his sexual escapades and he’ll talk your ear off. And he’s been known to, how shall I say this, augment reality with some wishful thinking. So I need to hear it from you directly. By the way, he’s been sitting on the couch, stoned out of his mind since he told me what he said you said. He’s looking at me on the phone with you and breaking up! That’s kinda why I married the guy — he’s got an appetite for living that’s just so amazing. I think he finds it flattering that you would call him about sex — but at the same time, he’s not really part of the picture for you is he?”

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