Dream
I'm in Wal-Mart. There's a large merry-go-round, the kind that you find on a playground, not the musical kind with horses. It's surrounded by racks and racks of clothes. My step-sister wants to ride the merry-go-round, but she insists that she must do it with her blouse unbuttoned. She unbuttons her blouse, grabs a handle and begins to run in circles. I grab a handle too, and we run for what seems like a very long time, but I don't get tired because it doesn't even feel like my feet are touching the ground. She leaps onto the merry-go-round, and holds the handle with one hand and leans way back, reaching out into space with her free arm. Her long yellow hair streams out behind her and her bared breasts are fat and quite lovely. I get on the merry-go-round, and admire her body as it stretches outward. Her skirt clings to one side of her ample hips and thighs, and flows from her other side.
Then some guy on the sidelines (have people been standing there the whole time?) smacks me on the ass three times--very fast hands-- and the dream dissolves.
Argh.
mia over at 
well, someone went and got creative, and bottled the essence of the sweet, sweet poontang. 
I trip-trapped down to the market, and bought two nice-sized pieces of ginger for $.24. (Hey, it's economical!) I spent some time peeling a piece into just the right shape and size, and threaded a string through the ginger so it wouldn't get lost in there and cause me eternal torment. 
My entire body from the waist down felt like it was simultaneously on fire and vibrating. I could feel my heart beating in my ass and pussy. My pussy lubricated copiously and constantly in response to the sensation, and my clit became highly sensitive. I played with my clit a little, but couldn't make myself come because the other sensation was too intense. There were more than a few times when it was so intense I thought I couldn't take it anymore, but I pushed through it with deep breathing and was rewarded with another endorphin rush.
my sexual repertoire
I’ve incorporated the fears of my lovers as an enticement. I’ve known since I was a young cat that women
are embarrassed by someone smelling their scent, especially their armpits. This led to a pre-coital ritual in which I
hold my lover’s arms above her head and against her will pretend to lick her armpits. Most women shriek and howl. Some have
tried to tough it out and bite their lips, wrapping themselves around me while
the heat of my breath grazes the tender skin and stubble until they can take no
more. It’s a lot of fun. Nipples harden, pelvises lock, and all of the
sexual senses are engaged. Mind you, I don’t have to lick the pits, just come
tantalizingly close, grazing them with each lunge.
r and
she sends me a note saying that she’s been the giver and receiver of armpit
love and highly recommends it to everyone. Her adaptation of my fetish meme had mutated. What I’d once used as a form of fun torture (“it’s
armpit torture time, bitch!”), was now a loving gesture of intimacy. Who knows what form her armpit love will take
in future adherents. Which brings me
back to figging. Figging, I’m told by the
mostly true 
"I think girls' nipples should match their personalities."
She and I started our evening with girlie drinks (blood orange and grey goose cocktails, yum!) at a neighborhood bar. We leaned across the table into each other as we sipped and talked about everything sexual. We discussed our respective boys, our past loves and lusts, and our sexual desires that remain to be fulfilled. She's got enormous, long-lashed blue eyes, and a direct confident stare. 
I felt her hand slide across my belly and up onto my breast. Her fingertips grazed my nipple and pulled. I arched up into her, smiled, and sighed with relief and pent up lust. "Nothing's happened so far, but she just tweaked my nipple, so I'm taking that as a very good sign," I told him. He and I talked for about 5 more minutes, with her hands roaming freely over my body. I guess she didn't really know if it was okay for us to play until she heard exactly how okay it was with my lover, or maybe she just thought it was hot to distract me as I was talking. At any rate, she made the impossible first move and I was so happy that she did. I told him I loved him, hung up the phone, and we practically leaped on each other.
skin was sleek and smooth and pale, and shined under the shower light. We washed each other's backs, and pressed our soap slicked bellies and breasts against each other as we kissed. She reached one hand down in front of me, and one hand behind, and played with my clit and pussy opening at the same time. I swayed and staggered under her touch. She leaned me up against the shower wall and I kissed her neck and shoulders as she teased me with her fingertips. I seriously felt drunk, but our drinks had long since burned off. 
narrative of the fuck. I played with her that way until my arm got tired, then switched to my other hand, beckoning her to come here with my middle fingers on her G. I stroked her inner lips and clit with my free hand, squeezing and rolling her clit between my fingers, jacking it like a tiny dick. 
I washed my hands (safety first!) and returned to the bed, with my G-force dildo and a pump bottle of lube. I fucked myself for her, legs spread wide and thrown back so she could see every single detail. She watched, delighted. Her eyes grew huge as my fucking became more aggressive, and she reached down to grab my ass cheeks in her hands, spreading me wide. I fucked myself until my arm felt like jelly, but I hadn't quite gotten to the place where I could come yet. "Will you fuck me with this, please?" 
but every now and then... when reading some really good, dirty gay porn, i wish i had my own little wang to pull on.
i think if i had a choice, i'd like a foreskin too... a little erogenous face mask that would slide on and off as i slowly jacked my hard shaft and played a kind of sexual peek-a-boo with each stroke. oh! and precum... lots of precum. salty and sticky... slowly bubbling out of the winking slit with my heartbeat.
We agree to meet up at Daddy's in a half hour. I race into my house and throw my rock chick, my cheapie (but goodie) plastic G-spot vibe, and some lube into my bag. I know exactly what I want to do to myself. I know exactly what I want.