June 27, 2009

Recipe for Rape

Ingredients:
750 mL Jagermeister
750 mL Jekyll and Hyde
Soul foods (fried pork chops, fried chicken, potato salad, and coleslaw)
1 queen-sized bed in a dim-lighted room

Preparation
First, take a very quick shower, 10 minutes tops, to freshen you up after a long tiring day's work. Use a shower gel that comes with a body lotion and a body spray, which scent compliments and accentuates your body's natural uhm..aroma. Then, towel your hair but don't dry it, just leave it damp. Don't put any make-up on either, appear as fresh-looking as you can. Even if you're not used to wearing anything on when you sleep, you have to wear something in a slumber party, and since there are members from the opposite sex who are invited, better wear something that will not catch their attention, meaning something that might turn the wrong switches on. I suggest wearing a pair of jog suit or pyjamas, depends on the weather and/or season; however, under some circumstances, you can still stir that thing on them males, like you may have assets so visible even in these kind of apparel.

Working on with the Tricks
Ask someone who's also invited to the party to carpool with you. This way you can save gas and mileage of your own car. Give him a peck when he comes to your house to pick you up as a sign of greeting and thanks. In his car, ask him not to turn the a/c on, you wanted him to save gas too, and just let the night air blow your hair to your face along with the whiff of your scent to his nose. Upon arriving to your destination, go inside your host/ess house first and sit on the couch or love seat, he'll surely follow you and sit right next to you, 'coz by this time he's already addicted to your fragrance. Act as if you can't feel his eyes roaming all-over your body. Drink your Jag shots chased by Jekyll and Hyde shots as you're supposed to. Eat the soul foods in your plate that your host/ess has given you. Always stand up and go to the restroom if you feel like going even if you're already feeling the buzz of what you're drinking and make sure to pass by the electric fan frequently, or better yet, sit in front of it. Since you're tired and buzzed, you'll feel like the world's spinning around you, so ask your host/ess where his/her bedroom is, tell him/her you want to see his/her bed. When you get there, lay down and sleep lightly. After some time you'll feel the presence of another person. You know it's him; Although your mind's still awake, just pretend you're sleeping. Pretend until your pretentions become reality. He'll be lying down beside you by then.

Reaching the End
While you were sleeping, kiss him hard until you taste blood. Go on top of him, sit astride him, and tell him, "I'm gonna rape you tonight, bitch." Slap him across his face and follow it up with a backhand. Covering his mouth with your hand, bite his earlobe. Squeeze his chest. Nip his neck. Slap him again and again until you pass out on top of him. He'll stand up, lay you on your stomach, pull your legs down and leave it hanging on the side of the bed, strip your pants and undies off and exact his revenge. He'll just finish what you've started. Extinguishing the fire you've ignited he'll squirt on your buttocks with his loads. He's still a gentleman and will wipe it off your skin with a paper towel and put your clothes back on to its place. He'll also make sure you're lying on the same spot you're lying on when he entered the room so that nobody will know what happened that night except him, for tomorrow when you wake up, you'll simply think of it as a dream. A wet dream..

Salacious Delirium

author's note: this is my first time to write an erotica, Circa 2004, and I wrote it placing myself in a man's shoe.


I turn to my side, facing her.

Ahhh...the woman I chose is here beside me.

She's so close to me I can smell her floral-scented tresses.

I kept my eyes closed,

Still..

Remembering how we met

And end up in the bed.


I put the weight of my hairy legs on her silken ones,

Embraced her soft body,

And feel the warmth that it emanates.



I feel her.

She fills me.

She fills the void that once was there...

Slowly, I open my eyes

and the first thing it sees was her full, luscious lips,

that I always wanted to kiss.

I cupped her firm, round, caramel-areolaed left breast with my right hand

and run some butterfly-like touches with my fingertips.

It went taut and my heart skipped a beat,

She's real...


I am not dreaming, it's really her.

The woman of my constant reverie...


She stirred in her slumber.

Did I wake her up?

She slightly opened her mouth like Sleeping Beauty

yearning to be kissed by her Prince Charming

to break the enchantment,


and I did, only the spell was not broken.

And I hope it never will...

Flood Project

Monday, January 24, 2005

Whacked Out

I woke up facing the popcorn ceiling, I stared at it blankly for a moment contemplating where the hell am I and why do I feel sore all over. I tried getting up but my body feels so heavy, I tried raising an arm but it's as if my bones and muscles don't wanna cooperate with my brain. Then it dawned on me, I'm now in my cozy room, I've got bruises and welts in my elbows, forearms, chest, buttocks, thighs, knees, and legs. Jeez! What has gotten in my mind? Why did I do that thing for? I did enjoy the experience but do I have to ache everywhere? These were my thoughts as I outlined yesterday's event that caused my hurting, I rewound, played and paused it in my mind like a broken DVD player. I was dripping with sweat because of the hot winter weather up in the snowy mountains, believe it or not, it's hot!!! I remembered going up and down so vigorously, and whenever I drop or fall down, I'd curse or cry out a very resonant "ouch!", "fuck!", and "puta!" with my butt and thighs on the ground, legs and feet a hundred and eighty degrees apart or maybe a couple of degrees more, sometimes I fall or drop on my chest and forearms. Face and body all flushed, panting like an exhausted dog, I'd struggle to get up. I recalled wincing in agony as I walked into the bathroom and screamed a resounding "hell no!" when I saw blood dripping on my thighs. Exhausted and squirming with pain, I opened the shower and washed my body with hot water, I felt relieved for a moment. I slept afterwards and now, I'm here lying on my bed, body is still throbbing, recollecting that hell of an experience. Limping as I get up, I told myself, these self-afflicted mars were worth my learning on how to snowboard, yeehaw!!! (Aray!!!)



Tuesday, January 17, 2006

Long Night


I woke up in the middle of the night wet.. So wet I felt like I was overflowing.. I was at shock at first, but then I collected myself. I tried finding that one familiar thing..but alas, 'twasn't there. I tried to reach something of the same sort in the dark and found it. I pulled down my underpants, the only garment I had on, and put that cylindrical thing inside my thighs.. I pushed it deeper. It hit something within, I stopped. Pushed it again, and hit something again. It didn't hurt so I just went on pushing until it was where I wanted it to be. I pulled the cylindrical thing out and went back to slumber but I can't. This is the first time I did this and I felt uncomfortable yet soo good. I fear of side effects but the anxiety was brushed off everytime I toss and turn in my bed for I felt like exploding.. A couple more hours and this pleasurable discomfort will end..

Tomorrow I'll buy me a pack of sanitary napkins, I don't wanna use tampons again, if situation permits to that is..



Wednesday, June 28, 2006

The Ride

We're on our way home from the bowling lanes. My real date was a disaster, my other wooer rescued me from it. It was a terrible night, I didn't know that that Malaysian-Indian guy's a bullshitter from head to toe..

We're in my rescuer's car. He held my hand giving me comfort. Then he guided my hand to touch that stiff thing. My hand got sweaty the instant I felt its hardness. He closed his hand to mine and guided me on how to manuever it giving instructions as the car runs.. We went faster and faster.. Stopping abruptly sometimes, slowing down a little, then going faster again. My left arm went numb from reaching down, concentrating on what I'm doing even if I'm a bit afraid.. It has been a long while since I last did that thing and not from the passenger side..

On Sunday, I'll make sure I'm the driver even if he's the teacher. How can I learn the footwork in the clutch and brake of an M/T car if he'll still be the driver, right?

Feels Soo Damn Gee Double-Oh Dee, Good!!

Lifted from my blog Circa 2004.. One down, more to go..

I woke up one morning with the air filled with streaky blurs of white and gray. I tossed and turned, and tried once more to catch up on my sleep. The cold sweat was forming all over my body, and I needed to get up periodically to try and catch my breath. It was all over me. I felt a sudden stimulation through my nerves, and it gave me a tingling sensation I haven't had for a long time.

I laid down in a semi-reclining position as my mind wandered all over the place. The day was too inviting, and inside of me was screaming for more. I rubbed my hand against the spot, and I could feel my eyes rolling back as I felt the heat while I thrusted faster and faster. It was turning redder with each stroke of my fingers. It made me crave even more.

But then, I remained unsatisfied with all the gentle and forceful stroke of my hands. I wanted something rough to keep the friction intensely gratifying. I constantly rubbed it with a hard edged instrument with considerable pressure. My other hand gracefully worked its way to the other spot where I felt a burning urge to dig through.

I started to suck my fingernails and pressed it even harder 'til it almost touched my naked flesh. The spot turned flushed, and was slightly puffy. The warm feeling was still there. I bit my lip as hard as I could as the prickling feeling increased.

I took a deep sigh of relief as I grasped my breath, and tiny specks of perspiration appeared on my forehead. And as if an act of satisfaction and pleasure, I closed my eyes and smiled like a bitch. I could still feel the yearning to do it over again. This indulgence will never stop until I felt a culminating intensity--bursting and burning through.

Again, I'm touching it. And just like yesterday, and the day before, my fingers will give it a back and forth thrust until my mosquito bites quit itching..

Sarap talagang kumamot.. pesteng mga lamok yan!!

June 07, 2009

Facial

Re-posting from Darthjesus' plurk. Interesting uhm..treatment name.


Would You Try This?: The Spermine Facial

Jun 01, 2009 @ 11:43am

facialphoto.jpgSo I was browsing through this week’s New York magazine on my way to work this morning and read a short piece on how the latest craze in anti-aging treatments is a sperm-based facial. I’m sorry, what now?

Called the Spermine Facial, it consists of slathering synthesized human sperm on your face and then running an ultrasound and infared light over the substance to help it, ahem, penetrate deeper. Townhouse Spa is currently offering this service for $250.

Apparently studies were conducted (can you imagine that clinical trial?) that showed that the antioxidant found in human sperm makes your skin softer and less wrinkly. I’ve seen people put some pretty crazy stuff on their face in the name of beauty but this takes the cake. I’m all for piling on the lotions and potions to keep my skin looking its best, but I don’t think I could get over the gross-out factor on this one.

Would you try the Spermine Facial or is this just too gross for words?

—MEGAN MCINTYRE



Spermine, a powerful anti-oxidant originally discovered in, yes, human sperm, is said to diminish wrinkles and smooth the skin. The substance is now being synthesized in laboratories and sold by a Norwegian company called (seriously) Bioforskning. Spermine facials (really) cost $250 at Townhouse Spa, where the substance is penetrated with ultrasound and infrared light (a more basic treatment can be found for $125 at the nearby Graceful Services). Also available at Townhouse for $175: snail-secretion facials.


March 30, 2009

Getting Down on Laissez-Faire Sex

Any word said in French sounds sexy! (orgasm < la mort douce)


I've been nitpicking on the phrase "laissez-faire sex" for half-an-hour now trying to achieve "moksha" sans kama sutra. *wink*


The curiosity started after reading the article "Is Food the New Sex?" by Mary Eberstadt.


Here are my train of thoughts on this matter as I quibble on the euphemism..


Laissez-faire, imho, is an economic policy/doctrine that shuns government out of trade and entrepreneurship. So what the ef does the government has to do with sex (even if there are a lot of screwin'round done in politics)?!


Consulting the www, I came up with several explanations/definitions of laissez-faire.


Laissez-faire is French for "let do". Hmmmnn..okay, consulting the example given by Eberstadt, "She has even been known to watch pornography with her boyfriend, at his coaxing, in part to show how very laissez-faire she is."


So, does this mean laissez-faire sex means letting your partner do things [s/he wants] to you, that liking it or not does not matter..? I don't like the idea of it. Imagine having sex just for the pleasure of your partner and not yours..? That's not a very symbiotic relationship. =P


Laissez-faire is French for "leave alone". Leave alone sex sounds more like masturbation with this translation, so no, it does not jive with the example given either.


An online friend, let's call her Desire, then gave her two cents, after I asked for it since racking through my brain is not enough, that on the example given by the researcher, she interpreted it as a homophone for "lazy". Of course that made me LOL.


Laissez-faire on economics and finance, is a policy/doctrine dictating a minimum of governmental interference in the economic affairs of individuals and society. I kinda hit the spot, but not quite..Yey!


An open market sex, as Warped (author of Charmaine and Fucking Nadia) pointed out. But market equates to trade, I said. Then I swayed for it, since and there's a lot of exchange [of bodily fluids] done in the process of sex, starting from swapping salivas to squirting--uhm--spunks. Going back to economics, sex money/business without government intervention kinda seems wrong as well. Prostitution, after all, is the world's oldest profession; and getting nothing from it and unregulating it is dangerous!


Laissez-faire is a policy of allowing events to take its own course with minimal intervention. With this definition, I came up with spontaneous sex (read: HOT!). Two people meet, get a good stare (inventory? hmm) at each other, then, wham-bham-kabaam! He lights up a cig while she sleeps. Okay, I know we're getting in a kinkier side of sex, but it's not the definition that Eberstadt implies with her example.


Then it dawned on me, what if we take the defintion of economics' laissez-faire, minus the economics..?


Laissez-faire sex is having sex sans restrictions. (oh, I know I'm good..huh..?)


A definition to which "Rac" has the balls to ask, "Is there such a thing as restricted sex?" to which witty goddess kink_gurl (author of Tom and Adrea and The Date With A Stranger) replied, "There is such a thing as restricted sex. Isn't it called bondage?"


Drat! Why haven't I thought about that frickin' pun! Gawd, I'm getting rusty! Good thing we're having this orgy, screw mind masturbation! LOL!


Increasing my karma, still trying to achieve nirvana (which made me wonder since I'm an agnostic, most prolly through plurking), and came up with *drum rolls* "Laissez-faire sex is the freedom to pursue or have sex with noninterference to the affairs of others." How's that for the definition of laissez-faire sex?

February 07, 2009

Steamy Nite in Hollywood

It's a rainy, humid, Friday night, and it reminds me of the night my friends and I went out to Hollywood to drink, dance, and have fun. That night, amidst the Asian crowd, I met her..

She was so stunning in her statuesque feature, long, ash blond hair, baby blue eyes, and thin, pink lips. She came to me, we danced, and she spoke in her drunken stupor in a language I could not figure out at first since she's slurring with her words..

"Je suis désolé que je sois ivre.."

She said those words again. This time in a breathy voice. The dance floor suddenly became warmer, and my hands began to sweat. She speaks French.

"Ich bin traurig, dass ich getrunken werde.."

She whispered to my ear again. It's another different language. Did that mean she spoke a different one a while ago..? I was still pondering my thoughts when she put her arms around my neck and bent down to kiss me. It was sweet. Her hands were warm and soft, her lips warmer and softer. I could not believe my luck! I did not pry my tongue in her mouth, not yet anyway, I did not want her or her friends to think that I am taking advantage of her drunken state.

"I said, I am sorry I am drunk. I only had one too many," she explained.

"It's okay. I can see you are drunk, do you want to go back to your friends now?" I wanted to hit my noggin for asking her the silly query, but luck was on my side. She said "no" and kissed me again. This time, she ran her long fingers through my long hair, still in the middle of the dance floor. I held her face, touched her cheeks and jawline. It was so smooth.

"Let's go to the powder room.." she sugge--- no, she commanded, and I obeyed.

Despite the humidity, she was wearing a turtleneck sweater, a pair of plaid pants, and boots. I was thinking she went straight to the club after work. I on the other hand wore my denim mini-skirts, red halter blouse, and knee-high boots.

As we stepped inside the ladies' room, I got a good look on her face. She looks European, Swedish perhaps. She reminded me of that paperback I read when I was in high school about a Swedish lady who owns a motel where-in the room keys were thrown by men into the pool and women would dive into the pool in order to retrieve it, therefore having access to the said room and its occupant. She's a decade, more or less, older than me. Her cheeks were marbled with blood vessels, and I am a sucker for those features. The three-inch heeled boots she was wearing only added to her five foot ten inches tallness that I was facing her B-cups when we got crammed inside the cubicle.

We started lip locking again. This time more wet, more torrid, and more wanton that I could taste her jager-bombs mixed with my sex on the beach. Her hands were all-over my body and mine imitated hers. She cupped my double-Ds, squeezed it, played with it. I felt her butt cheeks and pinched it when she started to tread her lips and tongue down my neck. The cubicle felt so stuffy. She took my hands and brought it down her crotch area, yearning to be touched. I obliged.. I caressed her crotch like she wanted me to as she slid her hands up my skirt. I unbuttoned and unzipped her pants, stripped it down along with her underpants. I got excited when I saw it, and it was excited to see me as well. I started kissing it.. Then licked it.. Nibbled it.. And then finally sucked it.. She was feeling so ecstatic she let out a groan. I was enjoying giving her pleasures when the lady by the restroom's sink knocked on our cubicle's door.

We hurriedly put ourselves together. I left the cubicle first waiting for her to follow me, but her friends were waiting outside and I assumed they brought her home. I never got her number nor her name. Her friends were tall too, just like her.. I wonder if they too have penises as big as hers.