Saturday, May 19, 2018

Two One Zero: Lookout

Something else that I need to put here to be archived, I think.  A long account of an adventure a lovely posh blonde girl in the Antipodes sent me once--- a story from her teen years, back in 2002, in an email dated 29th March 2012:

They were water polo boys... I think I was 15, they were 16 or 17. We were driving round aimlessly in a Range Rover, parked up at the waterfront for a while, then drove up to the lookout.  We passed cans of RTD bourbon around. One of them rolled a joint. I was in the front seat, bare feet up on the dash. Jake, who was in the driver's seat, started kissing me & putting his hands down my top. Hadleigh was in the back. They were both blond, swimmers' bodies-- lean & muscular. Hadleigh was just on the verge of being drunk, Jake hadn't had too much to drink. I remember Jake leading my hands down to his cock, which felt so hard through his jeans. I undid his fly and took him out of his jeans. Hadleigh was watching everything from the backseat. I leaned over and started sucking Jake. He was running his fingers through my hair, gently guiding my head. Jake came in my mouth, and as I sat up and swallowed his cum with a mouthful of bourbon, I could see Hadleigh with his cock in his hands. He was so big and so hard. He pulled my arm and I climbed over to the back seat. I sucked Hadleigh's cock and swallowed his cum as it shot down my throat. I still remember Jake watching from the front seat.

Jake rolled another joint and climbed over and joined us in the backseat. Metallica was on the radio, we had a few more bourbons. There were always a few gay rumors floating around school about Hadleigh. I sat on Jake's lap and put my bare feet on Hadleigh's lap. Then some three way kissing just...started. I was just...filled with pure delight and amazement when Jake & Hadleigh first kissed. The way they looked at each other. Jake had his fingers in my cunt at the time, but I could tell they'd never kissed before.  Things progressed, and I watched fascinated as Hadleigh sucked Jake's cock. Jake had his fingers intertwined with mine, and he squeezed my hand so hard as he moaned and thrust and came. They kissed afterwards, then there was a moment when Jake and Hadleigh were looking at me. I thought I knew what Jake wanted, so I took Hadleigh's cock out and slowly started sucking. He was already hard. I sucked him, my eyes on Jake, until after a few minutes Jake leant down and kissed me, then took Hadleigh in his mouth. I sat back and watched again, so wet. It was incredibly hot. I had never experienced this before, and it was beautiful. Hadleigh came hard. Jake didn't swallow, the cum trickled out of his mouth, then he leaned and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. 

I was like, gagging for some attention by this point. I climbed on top of Jake and rode him on the backseat (17 year old boys do have some good points...they recharge fast!) I finally got my orgasm too. They had both been fingering my cunt during the night, but I wasn't quite there quite yet. It was my first three way, and I fucking loved it. It wasn't until a few years later that I finally had two cocks in me at the same time, which was a game changer. But I will always think fondly of my night with the water polo boys.

The story isn't entirely implausible. My blonde friend went to a posh private high school that managed to be written up in her local paper on a regular basis for scandals involving sex and drugs. Not entirely implausible, though I might question the dates: I'd be readier to accept the story at face value if she'd been 16 or 17 herself. And I wonder if the boys wouldn't have been older--- getting cans of RTD bourbon at 17 shouldn't be a problem for any reasonably clever kids (it was no problem in my own school days), but American kids get driving licenses at 16 and I think where she lives, a "full" license, a license for driving at night is something that usually takes a couple of years longer to get. So I do have a few doubts. But I've had the story in my email for six years now, and it very hot. It's worth archiving here. Even if it turns out not to be literally true, I'm intrigued that she chose to use these images to make herself hot.

Any thoughts of your own?


Wednesday, May 16, 2018

Two Zero Nine: Rain

I'm going to be posting a few stories young ladies of my acquaintance have told me over the years.

I suppose these will be stories that I envy a bit, stories where I wish the male player could've been me. Or they may be stories I envy simply because they're hot and delightful--- stories from a world I wish I could be part of.

They're also here simply because this is an archive of sorts, because I want to be able to have records of these things, to have them saved in a place where I can read them again over the years.

This is a story from August 2012, a story told me a posh blonde girl in a distant city, and it's one of the hottest stories a girl has ever told me:

rain was pelting on the windows. i woke up on the floor, naked under a kid's toy story blanket. dry mouth, pounding headache, very shakey. i sat up, and looked around for my clothes. an asian girl was snoring quietly on the couch. there were bottles strewn everywhere. i felt sick and dizzy. my black jeans were in the corner of the room, covered in mud. my keys and $650 were scrunched into my pocket. weird, i never carried that much cash. i pulled them on, then vomited into a pot plant. i couldn't see the top i thought i'd been wearing, so i grabbed a men's shirt that was hanging on the back of a chair and buttoned it up. i had no idea where i was or what i'd been doing. i wandered through the small apartment. there were three men asleep in one of the bedrooms. in another bedroom was a few weed plants. i looked in the fridge and took out a beer. one of the men woke up and asked me if i wanted a smoke. we stood on the balcony, under the eaves, and smoked in silence. i have no idea who you are, he said. i just shrugged. you're wearing my shirt, he said. i just looked at him. i was feeling too dazed to put a sentence together. you can keep it, he said. he flicked his butt off the balcony, and offered me another. he lit it for me. can i see your tits, he asked. i nodded, and he undid the buttons on his shirt. can i take a photo, he asked. i nodded. he took out a battered iphone and took a few pictures, then started slowly sucking my nipples. he was tall, and dark haired. he had a beard and green eyes. i fucking love your tits, he said. do you want to suck my cock, he asked. i undid his jeans and took out his cock. i got on my knees and took him in my mouth. i was still feeling sick and almost vomited once or twice, but i loved the feeling of him in my mouth. do you want me to fuck you, he asked. i nodded, with his cock still in my mouth. i stood up and he bent me over the balcony and slowly peeled down my muddy skinny jeans. he kissed my neck and fucked me in the rain. the motion of it made me vomit over the balcony. i moaned at him not to stop. it felt so fucking good. his hand was rubbing my clit and his cock was deep in my cunt. i had purged and felt light and pure as air. he came, and rested his body against mine. he pulled my jeans back up, and buttoned my shirt. he put another cigarette in my mouth and lit it for me. i walked to caitie's apartment in the rain barefoot. i wasn't so far from there, 4 or 5 blocks. 

In November 2013, the same girl sent me this intriguing note:

Last night, smashing Jack Daniels, riding a rough bogan boy so damn hard, kissing his neck tattoo & thinking  is this how I live now?

Still have morphine in my pocket, still wearing yesterday's clothes, still thinking about you.

You'll never believe me til you're on your own.

The same girl sent me this a bit later, a lovely expansion of what she'd told me about what happened:

I got dragged to drinks at an apartment in the city by a friend who wanted to score some eccies. I was seriously not in the mood, but I know how it is when you need to score, and figured I'd go along for a little bit. We got buzzed up to the apartment floor, and as soon as I walked in I got a really great vibe. This was a seriously expensive apartment, huge, with a great view over the city and waterfront. There were heaps of people there...this bogan boy from up the line was doing the rounds of the room...I think he had some other stuff besides eccies, I wasn't paying too much attention. My friend paid for her eccies and we left. We'd just gotten into the lift when he came out of the apartment and called out 'Hey darlin', come for a drink with me?' We ended up at an irish pub, doing shots of jager & jack daniels. He took me back to his hotel room, and we did a few lines. I felt really hot, so I just took my top off, kicked off my ballet flats and sat on the floor looking at him, topless, legs wide open. I can still picture the exact look in his eyes as he fell to his knees and grabbed my anlkes, lifting my skirt, then pulling my legs as far apart as they would go.  He went down on me until I came twice, hard. I took his cock out of his jeans and started sucking him there on my knees. He came hard in my mouth, I swallowed most of it but some came spilling out my mouth and running down my chin. I wiped it with my finger then licked it clean. I could tell he loved that. We had a few more JDs, sitting naked facing each other on the floor, until he said if he didn't fuck me soon he was going to explode. I pulled him onto the bed and rode him hard, my cunt almost aching from it. He came deep inside me, his teeth around my nipple. He wanted me to stay the night, said he needed more. I shook my head, pulled my top & skirt back on, kissed him on the lips & cock and went to leave. He told me to wait, and gave me a hundy bag, and $50 for a taxi. He wrote his number on my upper thigh, and told me he'd hook me up anytime he was in Wellington.

I envy her sitting at a desk in her new house in a posh hip suburb of her city, looking at the hard drive where she keeps all her memories, seventeen years worth of them, all the way back to being fourteen. And I'm always both envious and jealous, thinking of all the stories she has there on that drive. I envy her being able to sit in her outdoor living space on the deck behind her house and sip bourbon and feel the wind in from the harbor as she loses herself in memories.


Sunday, April 22, 2018

Two Zero Eight: Caramel

I'm leaving notes here on a springtime afternoon. I have been thinking of how disconnected I feel from everything and how empty the year has felt.

Let's begin with---

My  friend who teaches abroad was once picked up by a chic Foreign couple in London Town. Nothing so terribly out-of-the-ordinary for chic couples to do in clubs there, of course--- bring home a lovely girl to play with. What made this story different is that the couple were from the Maldives--- he was some kind of junior cabinet minister; she was an official in some NGO or other. Wealthy Muslim husbands loose in LDN have been known to sample the local versions of depravity, but having the active participation of their wives, and especially a wife who works with some Islamic women's NGO...that makes for a rather more interesting story. Well, both the minister and his wife were Oxbridge-educated, so that may explain a lot. My friend would certainly have approved of the accents and the tailoring...as well as the exotic looks ("sculpted caramel", she enthused). She didn't tell me if the minister and his wife had any particular kinks; that's something I must ask about.

No. I have no idea if they paid her. I'd like to think so, if only because I rather like the idea of my friend's services being charged to the Maldives Treasury. My  friend does identify with Riley Keough's character in "The Girlfriend Experience". That shows good taste. Ms. Keough was strikingly lovely in that.

My  friend watched "The Girlfriend Experience" and laughed. Why, she said with perfectly poised sarcasm, this show is so...unbelievable! A beautiful girl with an academic background like that becoming a highly-paid companion to wealthy Older Men! Who'd ever believe in a such a character? I mean, in someone whose life was...exactly...like mine? If I'd been across a table from her in London Town, I'd have risen to my feet and stalked out of the bar without another word. Though I couldn't have had the satisfaction of sticking her with the check. She probably has a credit card from one of her Patrons. Or an envelope of cash. Though I wonder sometimes if my friend doesn't have enough of dark side to be more like the heroine/narrator in L.S. Hilton's "Maestra"...

That story is one about wealth and class markers. This one is darker.  A friend down in the Land of the Long White Cloud wrote me in November 2012 to say---

My story probably isn't very remarkable...I was 16, drunk, high, at a party. He was someone's older brother. I didn't want him, didn't want it. He held me down and pulled my underwear down. At one point he had his hand around my throat, then in my hair. He was small, I remember that. He felt so small, and barely hard. He came on my thigh.

That's all. No description of what the party was like, no description of how he got her (presumably) alone, no description of what came after. She's never returned to the story. All my instincts argue that the context is what would make the story work--- what happened before and after. I suppose I never will know.

Yet I did ask the same girl if that was her only non-consensual experience in her teens. She wrote back (this was in May 2016) about a boy named Garrett:

he was tall, dark haired, rugby players strong build. the first time, he forced me to suck him. we were at his house, we'd been in his spa pool and watching movies when he pushed my head down and told me to suck him. I was 14, i think. he said you know you want to and that i deserved it. he came in my mouth of course. he is a big shot banker now...he emailed me a few weeks ago to help him work out a child support settlement! he never properly raped me later,  but we fucked for years after that, i wanted him so badly!

She was fourteen, she says. No idea about Garrett's age, or how often or for how long they did have sex. No idea about the key question, either--- whether they had sex again in 2016, when she was doing financial work on his child support settlement.

She always leaves mysteries, my friend does. This final one is from March 2014. Max is her golden retriever, still just a pup in those days:

did i tell you about the gorgeous maori boy i'm fucking. he's tall, with short dark hair & lovely brown eyes, light brown skin... he works at the doggy day care place max goes to, so he picks him up & drops him off every day. he was dropping max home one day and i was sitting in the garden drinking a beer. we started talking, and he showed me how he taught max to play dead. max was his last drop-off for the day, so i asked him to stay for a drink. he loved it that i don't wear underwear. his cock is beautiful.

Again, a mystery. Was it more than the one time? How did the two of them transition from the garden to the bedroom or the sofa? More mysteries. I'll have these notes, but I wish I had more context, more follow-up on the stories, and of course more detail.






Sunday, April 15, 2018

Two Zero Seven: Cars

My friend far away across the seas once sent me this note:

So many nights spent driving around with boys...I got my licence quite late, so if I wanted a ride somewhere I had to text a boy...and I liked to make it worth his while. 

I do love sucking cock, I always have. I have friends, even now, who hate it, and I just can't understand that. It is so hot, and such a powerful, sexy thing to do. I get so wet with a cock in my mouth, before I've even been touched. And I love the feeling when a man comes in my mouth.

She always claimed to have been the girl in her high school class who offered up instruction to boys:

Best memories... God, so many nights in cars...I was able to practice on boys just a few years older than me, so when I started spending time with much older men I was very good. And I like to think I returned the favour -- teaching 16 year old boys just how to eat pussy. 

I do remember one night...when I sucked two boys off while the other one watched... I loved that, and so did they. After I'd sucked off both of them and we smoked a joint, they did each other, which made me so wet... We were in the back of a car, and later I did ride one of them... But I still wish I could have had them both at the same time.

She wrote me later about the story with the two boys. It's not a bad story. Back of a Range Rover, parked at a lookout high above her home city. The extended version of the story is excellent and very hot. And plausible, mind you.  I've always loved her tales of her teen adventures, and I want to know more, to know about more nights at lookouts or parked on beaches. My only question about her stories is that she always portrays herself as very blasé about being seen having sex, as open to being naked around more than one person. I do wonder about that. Fifteen or sixteen seems to me to have been a time when people are easily embarrassed and usually very uncomfortable with their bodies. And my friend was ana/mia off and on through her teens and early twenties. I need to explore that issue.

In any case, the stories do make me deeply envious and jealous. I wish I could've been part of her teen adventures. I wish I could've been the one giving her rides. And I wish I could've been part of stories like that in my own teen years.

As much as I do love her stories, I find myself reading them and feeling glum. My teen years were nothing like hers. I do worry that she judges me for not having stories like hers, stories of her adventures amongst her city's posh teens. I worry that I'll never have the social and sexual points she amassed in those days.


Sunday, April 8, 2018

Two Zero Six: Grapes

Long ago, in the lost Year Eleven, a lovely young friend far away beyond the seas wrote me that:

oh, yes! went to Wairarapa wine country for a festival and had a lot of naughty fun between the wines.

She went on to say that

we met a group of guys early in the day and had a few drinks together, then came across them again at the last vineyard of the day...i sucked two cocks between the wines as the sun was going down...and scored 3 Es!

I asked if this had been two separate encounters, or if the two men had watched each other. Her reply was that

they both watched each other...then one of them licked my cunt...he was incredibly good considering how drunk he was.  i was on the ground, in a black and white striped summer dress, low cut and short, no bra or panties...i actually took a photo on my iphone of him licking my cunt...i have a shot of the top of his head, then another of him looking up & smiling...i love waking up in the morning & seeing photographic evidence of the night's depravity! they were both 50ish...and they both came in my mouth.

I found that story today in my email archives. Seven years old, it seems. That is a long time ago. My friend would've  been twenty-four or twenty-five at the time. She and I are still active correspondents (we've known one another for a dozen years now), and I suppose I'll remind her of the story. All these years later, I'd love to hear her own years-later take on what she told me once upon a time.I have asked myself whether I believe the story. It's not inherently implausible. She lives just south of the wine country, and she does enjoy driving up with her girlfriends for festivals. She does like older men, and she likes having more than a few drinks.

Of course, I'll never really know if the story is true. There's no way to do that, not at a distance of seven years and almost eight thousand miles. I'd like to think it's true because it's a good story, though I will admit to a gnawing, painful mix of jealousy and envy.

Jealousy? Well, that's obvious. In a better world, she'd have been doing things out amongst the vines with me. In a better world, she and I would've taken E and sampled wines and done wicked things. Envy? Well, as a gentleman of a certain age, and as someone whose social calendar hasn't been full this season, I envy her both the visit to the wine country and the adventure there under the grapes. I'd note that it's the stories I envy as much as the sex.   Sex with my friend would've been a delight, but having the story to tell--- sex with strangers! sex in a vineyard! wine country sunset! ---is even better than the act itself.Now I have said that for most of my life. The story is better than the act itself, and the story lasts for a lifetime. I will envy her being able to tell that story to her girlfriends over drinks for years.










Monday, March 26, 2018

Two Zero Five: Casual Encounters

I read today that Craigslist has shut down its Casual Encounters areas. I have to say that I'm saddened by that.

I was never a user of Casual Encounters. I've never been someone who uses hook-up apps. I've never been at Tinder or Match.com or any of their kin. For all the obvious reasons, I've always been too afraid to go to use hook-up apps. It's hard--- impossible, really ---to imagine that anyone would swipe whatever the direction is to show any interest in me.  Tinder and its rivals aren't places where whatever strengths I have can be brought to bear. The things that I've spent a lifetime working round--- age and looks ---are on immediate display there, and none of my strengths show up in a profile photo and a two or three sentence biography.

Back in the days of my own lost youth (or at least back at the end of the last millennium), I did visit Nerve.com a fair amount. I've no idea if Nerve.com still exists, or if it still has a Personals area. I'm actually wondering if Personals style ads are still done, here almost twenty years into the new millennium--- if a world where even text messages seem like a lot of trouble to do, does anyone under, say, forty have the energy to sit and construct a Personals ad? I also wonder if the corporate panic that's caused Craigslist to shut down Casual Encounters will spell the end of Personals sites (where they still exist).

Nerve.com marketed itself as an erotica-for-intellectuals site. You were encouraged to talk about your interests in books, films, politics, art. I suppose that did encourage a bit of pretentiousness (cf. the old New York Review of Books personals) but it also gave someone like me a chance to be seen as useful. It also brought out a fair number of lovely undergraduate and early twentysomething girls who prided themselves on being both bookish and sexually adventurous.

I did meet a few interesting partners there. There were telephone encounters, and one or two webcam encounters. One girl--- a lovely girl in Cincinnati who went on to joint degrees in Law and Library Science ---did become deeply important to me. I've only come close to marrying a bare handful of times in my life, but she was very much on the small list of girls I'd have been proud to marry or partner with. I remember exchanging messages with her at Nerve.com (she called herself SmartChick in those days), and I remember that first night when we spoke by phone. We stayed on the phone for hours and hours, and for almost two years we never slept (together or apart) without long, long conversations in the dark.

Casual Encounters was always something I'd read for amusement more than any thought of placing an ad. The ads were a strange mix of the hilarious, the hopeless, and the grimly earnest. There were disturbing ads that could've come straight from a novel about serial killers and affecting and sad ads that had such obvious backstories of loneliness and empty days. I'd read Craiglist Casual Encounters sites in cities all over the world and try to gauge what the sexual tastes of the lonely, the adventurous, and the desperate were out there across continents and seas. I read the ads the way I'd read short stories, and I'd laugh or sigh or just try to build up an image of who the characters in the stories were and what they were life in what's known as Real Life.

I've seen a couple of eulogies at on-line magazines for Casual Encounters. One girl now in her late twenties wrote about her freshman year at university and realising that she could summon sexual partners to her residence hall and never have to leave the building or put shoes on. Another girl wrote about how Casual Encounters could produce scary results and dull ones both, but how the ads let her finally accept that sex could be adventurous and exciting, let her experiment with all the half-formed hopes and fantasies and dreams she was having. Casual Encounters, they both argued, allowed a belief that there was a world of sexual (and, yes, romantic) experiences and partners out there. The Casual Encounters ads let you believe that there really was someone out there whose interests would mirror yours.  That's no small thing, really.

Anyway... I will miss Casual Encounters. I'll miss the possibilities it offered, the sense of adventure implicit in the idea of following up the ads.  For all that so many of the ads were silly or stupid or incoherent, Craigslist Casual Encounters did make the world seem more open to experience and pleasure and excitement. Those ads made sex (and romance) seem more accessible, more possible. Our world will be a bit less delightful without them.


Tuesday, December 26, 2017

Two Zero Four: Weinstein

A story that remains a mystery---

A friend of a friend, someone who teaches Law and History at one of the non-Oxbridge British universities, is as they say "taking advice" in a post-Weinstein matter. He's consulting his solicitors over what amounts to a forced retirement at his job.

He's sixty-ish, I think, so he'd have had another ten years of teaching. Right now he's been suspended and the university administration is orchestrating a forced retirement. He's resisting and is, as best I can tell, planning to sue over the university's failure to follow its own procedures and give him the process written into his contract. My understanding is that it's all based on accusations of "inappropriate conduct", though I have no specifics.

He's at a British university and he's a bachelor, so the first thought his friends here had--- that I had, too ---was that this was about handsome young undergraduate males. That would be the usual British thing, no? But I suppose it could be girls. I know nothing of his preferences or kinks. He's a private enough man, and he did practice law for a while, so he's been trained to discretion. My friends and I agree that it's not particularly relevant what his tastes are, and it doesn't matter to us which team he plays for. We'd probably like to know, though, if only for purposes of gossip.

We have no clue what the specific accusations are. Part of his legal argument is in fact that he's never been given specifics or a chance to refute them.  I can't comment on what he's supposed to have done.  He seems ready for a legal action, for whatever that's worth. All I can do--- all his friends can do ---is watch from the transatlantic sidelines.

I note the story because this is the first brush I've had with the post-Weinstein era.  I was once a mid-semester replacement for a faculty member who'd taken to showing up drunk for his lectures and who'd drunkenly crashed a university vehicle while driving to some official meeting.  But I've never known anyone who was accused of "inappropriate conduct", whatever that might be.

The person in question should be financially okay even if he is forcibly retired. My understanding is that he'll have a pension from his university and that he has a fair amount of land and investments in Pennsylvania (where he's originally from). I'm not so much worried about him as I am intrigued with what the accusations are and what level of process he's entitled to under British law and his own contract.

I've always said that my own love life has been based on conduct as inappropriate as I can manage for these last few decades.  I'm not surprised that in the post-Weinstein world I'll have yet another level of  social disdain attached to me.