Sex & Sox

My passions: Sex and the Boston Red Sox!

Wednesday, March 30, 2005

My First MILF

The time: Nine in the evening on a delightfully warm late March evening.

The place: Right-most elevator in my apartment building -- that is, the one with the extra button that always confuses people.

The people: Me, wearing a tight long-sleeved blue t-shirt and brown corduroys. Sneakers, no bra, and toting a shivering wide-eyed black chihuahua. Her, wearing an over-sized, stained white t-shirt and velvety pink PJ bottoms. Flip-flops, and a basket full of neatly folded laundry.

"Oooh, he's so cute," she says, gazing at my dog with eyes the same moist bistre hue as his. Her lips are curved into a shy smile, making it hard for me to tell her age; late twenties? She looks tired, though, as though the children whose clothes she is toting about have worn her out utterly.

"He's my ferocious guard puppy!" I quip, my usual reply, and we share a short laugh. The elevator doors slide shut, as I realize I've forgotten to press the button for my floor.

I extend my arm just as she does, asking me, "Which floor?" and our fingertips brush. Though the dog cringes back fearfully, I move my hand away slowly, and she looks up at me through her eyelashes. She's shorter than me, older than me, bustier than me, and, for the moment, I'm absolutely infatuated with her.

I exhale, "Eight," and rock back on my heels, studying her. I must be imagining things -- that can't be invitation in that gentle, round face. Her lips are pursed, not puckered. Her stance, with the out-thrust hip, isn't to make curves for my eyes, but for balancing the weight she carries. Those same fingertips that touched me aren't stroking the laundry basket, but tapping it impatiently.

We don't speak. Airy curls of pale wheaten hair have escaped from the tortoise-shell clip confining them, and I make a pretense of looking at anything but where they stroke the soft white skin of her throat, because I am certainly not debating how that flesh would smell, or taste, or feel...

The elevator grinds to a stop and the door rattles open. "Buh-bye," she says, and instead of immediately stepping out as I usually do, I bend over and set the dog down. He promptly starts racing down the hall to our door, leash flailing behind him. "Knows where he lives, mmm?"

"Mmmm..." I agree. I'm blushing. "Have a night nice! Nice night!" I'm stumbling over my words and nearly my feet as I step into the hallway.

"You too!" She leans forward -- dear God, there's a little slash in her shirt collar, over her breasts, and it's not as though I can see anything besides her collarbone, but the blush grows deeper -- and presses the DOOR CLOSE button.

I rush to the apartment, toss a treat to the dog, and strip down. My bed looks inviting and as soon as I close the door (otherwise the puppy will come in and disturb me) I'm on it, spread-eagled, stroking myself.

Did she think of me? Was I reading too much into her actions? Did she go up to her husband when she got home -- she was wearing a wedding ring -- and pull him into the bedroom? Is she feeling good that she aroused such feelings in me? Does she even know? Before the questions are done running through my head, I've come.

I'm lusting after someone's mother.

Tuesday, March 29, 2005

Redhead of the Week, #9

Happy Tuesday, and welcome to Redhead of the Week! This picture was forwarded to me by Steve the Mildly Unwell Bastard, and interestingly, I'd already had a gallery of her bookmarked... so decided to use it.

Enjoy! Sorry that I'm late on posting her, by the by. I wish I could say that I was having crazy sex at midnight and just couldn't pull myself away, but really we were doing a few Deadmines runs (if you know what I'm referring to, that's just awesome) and totally forgot.

Next week's redhead is very skinny, very pale, and very wet!

Wednesday, March 23, 2005

"Image Hosted By..."

Well, so this is what happens when you get 15,000+ visitors in a week.

Um. Looks like I need to set up a few different image hosting accounts, or else just suck it up and subscribe to a premium account at Photobucket. This is what I get for not hot-linking images from other people's sites!

Thanks everyone for visiting... looks like I'll be playing with graphic arrangements.

Tuesday, March 22, 2005

Redhead of the Week, #8

Happy Tuesday, and welcome to Redhead of the Week!

This week's redhead... well... doesn't she have a great smile?


More images of her can be found
here (the first two are hilarious). I kinda like that I've got a picture of a penis on my website. There's actually one that I've been meaning to post... I'll get around to it eventually.

Next week's redhead is, again, a mystery. Still working on straightening out my collection and haven't made a solid choice!

Friday, March 18, 2005

Screw the Pink Hat...

... I want a pink jersey! With RHINESTONES, natch!

Image hosted by
(Thanks Yahoo Photos gallery, and Singapore Sox Fan for the link to it)

Dear God. Someone get me one of those! I will give you the blowjob of your life (or, if you're a woman, will figure out some other way to please you!)

Tuesday, March 15, 2005

Redhead of the Week, #7

Happy Tuesday, and welcome to Redhead of the Week! This week's redhead is miss Amy Sweet, a beautiful, curvy Italian model. Other pictures I've seen of her show her as much more of a brunette, which makes this picture all the more special.

It wasn't that there weren't other photos of her in this series, and naked ones, as well. Her eyes caught me here, and this picture was unanimously selected (by a panel of two, but still...!) to be featured.

Enjoy! Next week's redhead is a mystery, since I haven't decided on her yet. Guess that means I have a week of searching to do!

Monday, March 14, 2005

When Good Redheads Go Bad

As anyone who has browsed Internet porn knows, there's some great stuff out there. There's also some mind-bogglingly bad stuff. I'm not even talking about production value here -- God knows I love some amateur pictures -- but things that, for one reason or another, just aren't as sexy as they're intended to be (at least to this little girl & my assistant judge).

So, when picking out future Redheads of the Week recently, I stumbled upon a plethora of wretched pictures. Here, then, are half a dozen examples of what horror can result When Good Redheads Go Bad (the titles will lead you to their gallery and, as always, they can be clicked to be viewed larger):

Number One:

This was the most inoffensive of the galleries. I hate when I find pictures like this -- ones with a fantastic redhead, that just aren't good enough. Because... look at that couch. Fucking UGLY! It was very disappointing to me that she couldn't be on a better background. That couch is just killer. Beautiful woman, eyesore of a background.

Number Two:

What. The. Fuck.

Hello, Batgirl? Yeah, I found the bitch that stole your mask. She's a flexible little one, too.

Seriously, there's a lot of pictures in this vein lately that I've been stumbling across: these weird frickin masks. Very often there's beads, dildos, and other women involved, but I've never even bothered to get past the fact that they're wearing masks.

Number Three:

One: Your outfit sucks.

Two: Your expression sucks.

Three: Your tits look like lopsided balloons.

Four: You are fucking hanging yourself and masturbating. I'm sorry, but I find absolutely nothing even remotely erotic about asphyxiation. I know some people do, but I don't, and this is my Redhead of the Week. My past pretty much explains that little, dare I say, hang-up.

Number Four:

Okay, the expression's cute. The colours are even cute. But you know what isn't cute?

A naked woman who reminds me of being 14 years old and watching "I Love Lucy" with my little sister. I just can't find arousal in that. Sorry.

Number Five:

You. Look. Like. A. Dude.


Number Six:

One: Your outfit still sucks.

Two: Your expression still sucks.

Three: Your tits still look like lopsided balloons, though slightly deflated.

Four: ... Really, you're holding a gun. IN YOUR MOUTH. What the fuck is it with that site and women who are on the brink of suicide being sex objects? Seriously...

Now that that's all said and done... a normal and wonderful redhead is coming to you shortly after midnight Eastern!

Tuesday, March 08, 2005

Redhead of the Week, #6

Happy Tuesday, and welcome to Redhead of the Week!

It was this redhead's attitude in the series of pictures I took this one from that made me decide on her. I also really liked how not "pornographic" the image is, and how clean. As always, she can be clicked to be viewed larger.

Enjoy! Next week's redhead is a fairly well-known curvy Italian model. I haven't decided on quite which picture of hers I'll be using... but it sure is nice browsing them!

Oh, also -- since I don't think I'm going to be using any of the images at
this link (no pop-ups!), go and take a peek. I really enjoy the colours and composition of them, but there wasn't a single image that captivated me.

Sunday, March 06, 2005

Tatiana & A Trinity

Have you ever been genuinely giddy? You know, that feeling where you're delighted, relaxed, and yet exhilarated all at once, where the laughter (or giggles!) just won't stop coming?

That was how I felt last night, after they made me orgasm.

I am a notoriously difficult woman to make orgasm. Before my current boyfriend, I had never had someone make me cum; certainly, I had done it to myself, and with someone encouraging me, but giving myself over completely to another person's touch had never culminated in it. Even now, when the better half goes down on me, it usually takes so long that his tongue and jaw get sore and I'll end up asking him to stop and stroking myself to climax.

This was not a problem last night, when Milla and Bruce (points if you know why I chose those psuedonyms) were taking turns lavishing my pussy and clit with attention. For nineteen months, I've felt that I'm a very lucky woman; I know I am now, for this is indeed the couple I've written about before (I also discovered that there's actually an excellent reason why things have taken so long to reach this juncture between the four of us).

I could write about the entire night, but it was the same as most visits we make with them: we chat, listen to music, eat a fantastic dinner, get into the heavy drinking, and flirt. Then, usually, my boyfriend and I leave, with me about as horny as humanly possible. But this time, we didn't. This time, we were all sitting on the couch together, touching, laughing, with Milla stripping off her top and bra to model her leather corset, and me soon following suit to try it on as well.

A corset is a sexy fucking piece of clothing. A leather corset is sexier. Curves are accentuated, and in my case, cleavage suddenly appears. It was seeing her and touching her in that, running my hands along the sides and over her breasts (larger than mine, but not overwhelmingly so) that pushed me over the edge; then, wearing it myself and being admired brought my arousal to a fever pitch.

I honestly don't remember what happened between when I took the corset off and when my boyfriend stood, holding her hand, and started walking towards the guest bedroom. I do know that Bruce and myself followed, and a few minutes later she and I were lying on the bed with my boyfriend sitting on one side of the bed while her husband watched from the other. The lights were off, candles flickering, and the world's sexiest album, Massive Attack's "Mezzanine", for background music.

Her shirt was tugged up and she hadn't put her bra back on (neither had I), and I laid beside her with a goofy grin, propped up on one elbow, trailing my fingers over her taut stomach and silky breasts. I'm amazed at how ... smooth women are, and this manifested itself in one of my childish moments: I squealed, "Is she not just... sooo... pretty?!"

I wasn't long before I brought my mouth to her nipple. This, I liked; feeling it stiffen at the touch of my tongue, feeling how warm and soft the rest of her breast was, cupping the weight of the other in my hand. We kissed, her lips pliant under mine, and I kept my eyes open to look at her -- a strange thing, I know, but what felt right.

Somewhere along the line, we got naked; I was leaning over her when she pushed me back and, smiling, started to make her slow way, with lips and fingers and tongue, down my body.

There is something exquisite about being part of an exhibition for men to admire. As anyone, I have my hang-ups; they faded away under the gaze of her husband and the quick, encouraging smile of my boyfriend. I watched her, trying to keep myself from pressing my pussy to her mouth as she kissed my inner thighs, her dark eyes gazing up at me as she moved closer and closer to it.

Then ... as I laid there wet, hot, aching, amazed, she slid her tongue between my nether lips and over my clit, and it felt heavenly. It's not that what she did was so different from what other people have done; it was the fact that this was a woman 'servicing' me, her slender fingers slipping into my pussy, her pierced tongue flicking at me, those lily-petal lips glistening with the same moist sensuality that we share, her chin and cheeks like satin against my skin. I felt bad that I hadn't shaved clean, as I prefer, and that my hair, short though it is, was rough upon her.

Soon, we had the men involved, her husband caressing her thighs and ass with his mouth while stroking my legs, and my boyfriend alternating between sucking and biting my nipples (I am quite fond of pain-as-pleasure).

"Come here," I begged her between my whimpering and moaning, but I was too quiet to break through how intent she was. "Milla," I tried again, "c'mere, please," and I remember someone chuckling as my boyfriend pulled away, then our lips met and I was licking my juices from her mouth. Her breasts pressed to mine, and I moved to tweak one of her nipples. "Thank you," I whispered, and saw her smile, "it felt surreal." I remember that she looked back at Bruce, and then he was going down on me. His face looked smooth, but after having had a woman there, the difference was unbelievable. The scratchiness of his stubble heightened how soft and experienced his lips and tongue were, and I nearly orgasmed from that alone, but mellowed quickly and enjoyed the sensations of having not-my-man attending to my clit.

I think... think... it was then that I reached for my boyfriend, unfastening his pants and pulling his cock into my mouth, but it could have been earlier; honestly, I've been remembering the entire experience with such fond fogginess all day that the memories blur. Whenever it was, it didn't last long before he moved around to the other side of the bed to be closer to Milla, and as she sucked my nipples, I looked down the length of her body to see him kissing at her body.

One of my hands stroked her, the other caught in Bruce's hair; all I could think, when I managed thought, was how fucking lucky I was, to be there as the focus of three people's erotic attentions. Eventually he pulled away and she replaced him, and as she worked me I thought, "Oh, God, I'm not going to be able to cum, and I want to, and they're going to think I didn't enjoy all this as much as I have," before forcing myself to get a grip and relax -- because if I kept thinking like that, it would become a self-fulfilling prophecy.

As soon as I had pushed those thoughts from my head, my boyfriend pressed his lips to my ear and started growling about how fucking sexy this was, how much he was enjoying watching, and various sundry phrases, and before I knew it, my body was beginning to tremble and my breath coming shorter, and I was begging her not to stop, and he was still whispering to me but sound meant nothing because sensation was everything, and an intense orgasm swept over me, making me shudder and gasp -- but she didn't move away from me. Her lips stayed against my clit, and I started giggling, because she knew exactly how little pressure to apply to keep me feeling pleasure without it being too much -- because, of course, she is a woman, and knows where that line is herself.

For sexual activity, that was it. After I stopped laughing and kissed everyone and thoroughly thanked them (and told her that I owe her big time and look forward to reciprocating), we all settled into chatting, my naked body curled around hers. "You were more vocal than anyone else we've had in our bed," Bruce told me, and as I replied, "Oh! I was trying to be quiet," my boyfriend said, "That... was her being quiet." I'm a talker.

Eventually, it was "bed" time, which I'm certain meant each couple fucking in different rooms -- they in their bedroom, us in their guest room.

I've been wanting what happened last night since my boyfriend told me they were open to the idea, over a year ago. It was well worth the wait.

And I? I am one lucky woman.

Tuesday, March 01, 2005

Redhead of the Week, #5

Happy Tuesday, and welcome to Redhead of the Week! What a long frickin' week it's been, too.

This week's redhead's pale gray eyes and pouty lips were nearly as attractive to me as that lustrous coppery hair, and I appreciated the fact that I was able to see her in three different "outfits" in her gallery
here (no popups!) There are nude photos there, but since I couldn't decide which of them I liked best, I ended up choosing this one because the bikini's so adorable!

As always, she can be clicked to be viewed larger.

Next week's redhead... is wearing nothing but boots!