Fantasy people lately -- 3-1/2 weeks ago I spent much of the ride to North Carolina thinking about Dave Foley (sometimes also Scott Thompson in the bed). Today I've had Big Bang Theory-related ideas for the first time -- not that Sheldon Cooper is wildly attractive to me, but the idea of exploring him and watching feel new sensations is hot. And Leonard is actually cute. I'm so annoyed that the net connection died before I could find any smut (though I did come across a LiveJournal community where someone mentioned "it's canon that Sheldon beats off," and I kinda want to hear that mention in the show.

Bored. Lonely. Horny. Sitting here in a corner of the front living room of my grandparents' North Carolina house, hearing the thunder and rain outside behind me. Woke up this morning fantasizing, moving from Russ to Simon to Ed, thinking of the exact shape and feel of Ed's cock in my hands and inside my cunt -- we need to fuck. Alas, this need will no longer seem as urgent in a few days and after a 13-hour drive home. I reread my last few blog entries and was reminded of all those hot guys I met at website meetups. It's hot in here and I want to take off my robe even though it's a light lace one. I forgot Tim had a pierced tongue until I read reference to it in the blog. I want to call Ed and talk dirty to him but there's all these other damn people in this house. I've started fantasizing about actually fucking Russ again since his divorce, particularly since his ex posted about her boyfriend-now-fiance. My conscience lets up on me now. I kinda want to go out naked in the rain but the reality would probably be really cold (I'm not in Florida anymore!) I want someone to rub my achy lower back and then work their way over to my shoulders, my tits, my thighs, until I sit up and pull him down against me. I'm still hungry -- I need bare skin against mine, a thing I haven't had in at least 5 weeks. I kinda want to write Mike a fantasy about him but I'm not at all sure how he'd react. (You know, that sentence has been true for 20+ years!) I kinda want a lot of things but right now they involve physical contact or the nearest possible facsimile. Maybe I should use that roll-up holder I made for traveling with sex toys (though it might need a more washable lining then). I wanna feel the head of Ed's cock going in and out of me as I lean forward to kiss him, to lick his earlobe and breathe against his neck. Then I rear back to push down on his whole length, one hand behind me to caress his balls (where they're not up against my ass). I wanna do something to make him shudder and thrust and come inside me. When I think about Russ he's really noisy and just imagining his sounds can send shivers through me (the good kind).

23 April -- This morning's wake-up fantasy involved Gus, Russ, Ed and me in our living room, drinking, and it starts out with Ed telling me to take off my top, kiss Russ, and various making out, until I'm saying "Anybody want to go fetch me a condom?" Ed does and then I'm straddling Russ, sitting up on the couch, sliding a lubed hand down his cock, but while we're fucking (and fantasy me is too busy to notice how they got here) Gus is on his hand and knees with Ed behind him preparing to fuck his ass. Russ is working my nipples and not paying attention to anything but him and me either, until after he's done coming inside me, but when I lift up off him and collapse on the other half of the couch, Ed and Gus are still going, at a slow and steady pace that's drawing noises from Gus. Ed's eyes are half closed but eventually he leans over the body beneath him and reaches around to take hold of Gus's cock. I'm sure his technique is very different from how that cock is used to being touched but the unfamiliar hand seems to work every quickly and Gus starts to really writhe, and shoots on Ed's hand and this seems to set Ed's orgasm off.

11 June 2011 -- WANT Robert Plant. Just spend an hour watching him and the Band of Joy on PBS. Don't care that he's wrinkled and grizzled (though the goatee probably hides the worst of the wrinkling at least), something about hims is still as hot as The Song Remains the Same from 35 years ago in time, and 20-plus years ago in my life. he still has, as Joe pointed out, the same performing mannerisms as then, despite the music of this band being very different. Is it just the voice? The beautiful hair? The moves? I don't know, it's just a face I can imagine close to mine (in any of its variations over time). A body I want next to mine. Most musician crushes of mine haven't endured for decades.

12 June 2011 -- The middle of the night fantasy worked its way into Gus on a couch, Russ and Simon on either side, and me fucking Gus kneeling with one hand on the cock of each of the others. Probably impractical but hot in fantasy.

Earlier this month, I started on a different antidepressant and tapering off the Effexor, and I think my libido is really springing back up. And I found out last month that Russ is getting a divorce -- so the previous fantasy I wrote down has gotten longer.

After I get the energy to ease myself off Gus, I slowly roll off the bed and stand up to walk over to the chair where Russ is tied. In this version one hand is tied to each arm of the chair. I smile mischievously at him and he says, "You're evil."

I straighten up. "No, I'm not. If I were evil, instead of undoing your restraints, I'd be unfastening your clothes!" I lean over to whisper in his ear, "getting just enough out of the way so i can feel you . . . and then finally straddling you, on top of you in that chair, my tits in your face, your cock pressed against my belly . . . and you couldn't push me away -- you'd still be tied down. That would be evil." He's lost in the scenario and doesn't say anything at first. I stand up and take a step around in front of him toward the hand that's still bound, but he reaches out with the free hand to give me the slightest of pushes toward him. I smile at him and lift a knee to start kneeling over him in the wide hotel chair. "Is this what you want?" I ask before my other foot leaves the floor, and he just nods breathlessly as I lever myself into the position I described to him. He keeps the unbound hand on the chair arm as if I had never untied it, as I unbutton his shirt and then his pants, mostly by feel because I want to press my torso against his, though I have to raise myself up enough to be able to shove his pants and shorts downward. He pushes himself up from the chair until I can get the fabric out of the way, and point his hard-on in basically the right direction before I quickly slide down onto it, so wet that a slight mis-aim doesn't matter because the head of his cock adjusts itself to the most yielding part of my slickness. Gus is watching us now, I expect, but my back is to him.

I can't believe it's been more than a year since I wrote in here. I think having roommates was an added damper on horniness -- but yay they've moved away! And Annie has made it clear that her remarks about fucking Ed on the ex-roomies' futon weren't just glee at being rid of people who had been mean to her, but genuine desire for Ed. So now she's coming to visit -- we'll see.

My own recent fantasies involve Russ. The staying-in-a-hotel-after-clubbing scenario, him and Gus and me coming back to the room a little buzzed, Gus nuzzling my shoulder, Russ making some remark and me inviting him to join in and him saying he can't, he's a married man (even though they're separated). Then I suggest we should tie him to the chair and make him watch Gus and me. Russ makes that little noise of indrawn breath and I grin widely and dig the sash of my bathrobe out of my bag to wrap around his torso and shoulders and the base of the chair. His own tie, abandoned after work, binds his wrists together -- in his lap, so he could manage to jerk off if he tried. Then I strip, slowly, showing off for both guys, and join Gus on the bed. We kiss for a long time with our hands all over each other and I'm unbuttoning his shirt, and once that's shrugged off, his pants. He lies down on his back to get those off and almost as soon as they're out of they way I'm straddling him, stretching forward to offer my tits to him, mindful that our audience is a tit man. But I really need that cock inside me and I'm much too short to manage that when he's sucking a nipple, so I squirm away from his mouth and get us positioned to just slam myself down on his cock.

I'm rocking back and forth around his pole, flicking his nipple rings on that end of the arc, what little thinking I can manage to do dedicated to keeping my hair from covering the side of my face that's toward Russ. I want that view of him in my peripheral vision, rapt in what he's seeing -- and I want him to be able to see my expression, when I can't even keep my eyes open because my other senses are overloading. Gus is pounding me from below and he's brought a hand up to find my clit; the combination is taking me over the edge, my moans have reached their highest pitch. I'm too caught up to even glance at Russ; I just collapse forward onto Gus and every move brings aftershocks to my crotch.

Simon e-mailed in response to some thing else (supposedly) and then added that it had been "almost exactly two years" since we first tried using the handcuffs on me. I'm surprised he even remembered when it was -- I had to check the writings to remember -- but it's scary how eager I am to plan a time to do it again. Hell, I'd probably let him handcuff me any time we have sex; he just doesn't always bring the cuffs. Unsettling how the thoughts bring up internal tingles and I start cataloging my lingerie to as to pick out what won't get in the way. And what to put on right now for my fantasizing about being being dominated all kinds of ways.

2 April 2007 -- Weird dream last night. Back in my days of living on campus and with mostly the same people from my actual dorm -- but hostile persons unknown sprinkled/dusted the campus with powder or something containing a drug that made all the guys go crazy and start raping all the women around. I managed to get back to the dorm building unmolested but -- sounds creepy but in the dream wasn't -- Russ knocked out Fred to get to me (not that Fred was being boyfriend-protective; he was under the drug's influence too) and then had sex with me -- being how I had the long-running crush on him and was horny enough to have this dream, it wasn't rape.

After I woke up more, I went to the long-running fantasy of after a night out dancing or something, Gus and me having sex in a hotel room while Russ watches. Me on top, all kinds of view for Russ of every breast bounce, every hip thrust, every quiver and tremor that goes through me. And every moan as well. And those images ran into the idea that Gus is probably the only guy I know (at least of those I'm sleeping with) who would likely be willing to be video-recorded having sex. The idea of all those images that I first imagined Russ seeing, being put out for any others to get their rocks off to, turned me on. (It'll never happen in real life because of the technical issues of recording, hosting, and getting paid (since it's rather past the limits of what I'd put out there for free) would be such a pain. But it's hot to imagine anyone even being interested in paying to watch me have sex. It would be a pretty sincere compliment.

Sorry for the long delay in posting, but Blogger's migration to a new system screwed up my account for some time.

16 0ctober -- Dammit, I think I hurt my back masturbating. Or re-injured, since I seem to have pulled something twice in two weeks and it just seemed to be healing the second time before last night when I was reading various Xander-related fics and worked myself up to quite a prolonged stretch of dildo and vibrator use. I doubt the style of masturbation with one finger on the clit that I used back when sharing a dorm room would have caused such ache. It's not nearly as bad a pain as it was the first two days after I did whatever injured the back, but it's definitely worse than it was yesterday. And it's kind of annoying because part of the reason I was masturbating after Ed went to bed was the likelihood that sex with a partner would really mess up my back.

10 Dec -- Last night's fantasy was dominating Russ. It's always Simon who dominates me, and me who dominates Russ. He agreed to anything; I imagined leaning him over a padded table, feet on the ground, a little bit apart, arms out on the table, tied in place. Ass all revealed, balls where I could cup them, hard-on pressing against the table's padding. (Just being tied down and exposed like that was enough to get him hard.) I dribble lube down his ass-crack and he squirms from the chill. Covering a butt-plug with lube, I work it inside him. Then I take out the vibrator and rub it all over his buttocks, thighs, balls, the base of the butt-plug, teasing and playing wtih him until he is practically fucking the table. Finally, I reach under and press my still-slick hand against his balls and then down his cock from base to tip -- he is standing on his tiptoes to raise his hips and give me better access to his cock -- and it only takes a few strokes before he comes, convulsing against my hand.

(I love that the sheet underneath this paper on my clipboard is a letter to Russ and his wife to go in their Christmas card. It feels so deliciously evil.)

Gus would like that fantasy, too, but if it were him bent over the table, I know he would prefer something longer in his ass, pumping in and out, bumping his prostate. But with him, the story doesn't have the "things you've never done before" frisson it does with Russ.
But things we have done before could still be fun with Gus. He keeps asking me to drip more candle wax on him, and right now I'm in a mood that I would like to. Last time we did that was before he had any body piercings, though. I don't know now it would work to drip wax on a nipple ring and have the heat conducted inside the nipple -- but he might like it.

2 Feb -- Interesting dream. Russ (who was generally addressed as "Senator" by others) was renting a hotel room under an assumed name (possibly Rogers according to a later remark). I was in the room with a male prostitute (who my brain oddly seemed to cast Norm McDonald, who doesn't do a thing for me) and Russ was in the bathroom. He came out with a full face of quite well-applied female-style makeup and made some remark about "Mrs. Rogers." I think Norm and I were already making out on the bed and Russ joined us. Once we were all naked, I got out lube and Norm lay on his back while I slicked up his cock and Russ's ass. Slowly, very slowly, Russ pushes down onto the cock below him -- I don't know how Norm can stay still. But then I straddle Norm's head, facing Russ, and Norm licks my cunt, very skillfully, adding a finger or two inside me after I am really worked up -- I sure can't tell how many; I'm just lost in the feelings of soft tongue brushing against my clit exactly right although it's not the same each time. I'm bucking and clenching and half falling forward into Russ, who I think it just gently rocking back and forth around the cock inside him. When I don't think I can take anymore and my clit is just too sensitized, I lift up and off his face, but still straddle him as I scoot forward toward Russ. I run my hands down Norm's front and up Russ's and then, palms still a bit slick from earlier lube application, circle them around Russ's cock. He thrusts forward and then Norm's hands pull his hips back down. We keep up that rhythm, passing Russ back and forth between the hands on his cock and the ones on his hips, until he comes with drops all over me and Norm, and I think Russ's inside constrictions bring Norm to his own orgasm. I expect after that we would all collapse on the bed in an exhausted, slick-turning-to-sticky tangle.

17 Feb -- I dreamed last night that there was some sort of live Kids in the Hall show on campus, and I was watching it sitting in the crotch of a small tree, and for some reason I was naked except for shoes, but not self-conscious, though my purse was sitting in my lap. And I heard Simon's voice; his girlfriend, whose face I could never see because it was hidden from me by the tree trunk, and Simon was behind her. They were both dressed but I suppose Simon undid his pants and lifted her skirt -- I couldn't see but I could hear him telling her softly how he was fucking her, talking dirty so I was squirming in my tree-seat and losing track of the show.

6 Mar -- The sex with Ed was Sunday night; the soreness in my inner thighs is still reminding me of it Tuesday afternoon. Just felt like something that intense needed to be memorialized somehow.

Continually forgetting to type stuff up here. Sorry.

27 March -- Tell me what you want to do to me. I have on this thin white gown with the spaghetti straps and a tiny white g-string. And the purple collar -- I can't forget I have it on; it makes me hold my head up. The cool air on my bare skin reminds me of standing under your gaze, wondering what you'll bring out. I want your mouth on my neck, my shoulders, my nipples. Your hand stroking my clit through the thin layers of fabric. How do you want me open to you? On my back with legs spread open, or facing down with my butt in the air for you to slap?

8 Jun -- Ed and I went by Todd Adult Video for the first time in quite a while this evening. They have a lot more lingerie/dancewear/shoes than they used to, but I quite like that. If I had any money I would definitely want to buy some nice glittery stretchy stripper lingerie; more heels too. The clothes are more expensive than other lingerie, which is already overpriced, but I guess that makes sense since stripper costumes have to hold up a lot more than bedroom lingerie. Anyway, I spent more time looking at shoes than the movies on the shelves underneath -- and I am the least shoe-interested woman in the Western world. But the heels and the spandex, just the idea of wearing them made me feel sexy.

9 Jun -- Buffy before bedtime leads to some really hot dreams. I was in a band with Oz and Devon, and Willow was in the band also, and we were playing parties and all screwing each other between sets, some as a result of party dare games and some just because of attraction.

22 July -- God damn it, it's like a disconnection in libido -- brain and cunt aren't connected. Even when I'm fucking wet, my brain thinks it's too much trouble. Haven't even finished the Best American Erotica 2006 anthology acquired at least 3 months ago. Can't be bothered to keep up with the smut groups on LiveJournal. Can't remember how long it's been since sex with Ed. I don't know if it's the antidepressants or my feeling so goddamned fat and flabby, which really came to my notice last week when trying on bras to replace my ratty, stretched out ones. I wear a 38C now. The B to C cup itself is weird, but when the rib cage right below the tits is the issue, the last place on the body to store fat, you really start noticing. Ed doesn't seem to care and Simon certainly keeps calling me, but I know. It keeps me from being able to turn myself on by dressing up in lingerie and stuff.

The libido is still buried in there. It comes out in dreams. This one a couple of weeks ago where it was Leah who was tying Russ to the chair and letting me have my way with him. The one last night where I was in the X-Files universe but aware I was from this one, and kidnapped by someone (probably they wanted to get into my home universe) and Fox Mulder was kidnapped too and put into the cell with me, and I was telling him about the difference in worlds, and trying to seduce him by telling him that if the captors saw me having sex with such a relative stranger as him, they wouldn't think of rape as a useful technique to get information out of me. (Clearly, my brain has read the rape scene in Heinlein's Friday too often.)

But why won't my waking brain think about sex?

17 August -- Hot sex with Simon, in normal artificial light, for the first time in I-don't-know-how-long. (I think his skin condition has cleared up a lot -- just comparing by touch with the past few times.) I hope we didn't keep Ed awake. It was kinda weird that I hadn't been thinking about sex or anything (though it was approaching the horny part of my cycle) but when Simon first had sent a little e-mail stating that he was at work even though they were closed to customers, but was bored and imagining what one could do in an empty building with a digital camera. Then he phoned when he was about to leave work, and I just said that sure, I was up for seeing him (and unstated, what that generally leads to). I'm surprised I wasn't tired after a day of work and all (actually, he said he was surprised as well). But hey, when libidos are actually in sync, might as well take advantage. And, if the last time Simon came over while Ed was here is any indication, Ed will probably realize it's a good time to make a move tomorrow or this weekend. Which is nice -- I'm just so bad at making moves myself.

20 August -- And Simon got up while he was undressing from where he had been sitting on the end of my bed to close the mirrored closet door. He said the view was a turn-on -- he'd been able to see my mostly-bare rear, and then while I was kneeling going down on him, my panties were pulled down to thigh-level, just rolled up low enough to expose me, so I expect that view was just as good. But I think pretty soon he was leaning back and closing his eyes. (grin) I did rather like the view of myself, back and butt, that I got when I glanced around after he closed the closet. It's my thighs and stomach I'm paranoid about, mostly.

Gus remarked when he was over today that he was almost disappointed if he used our bathroom and didn't see sex toys next to the sink (they were certainly there today). I thought I might get around to fulfilling his request to have candlewax dripped on him today, but we got too caught up in watching Angel. (Wesley looks pretty hot in leather, but I've still gotta prefer Spike.)

15 Sep -- Discovered Rockfic.com and now thinking about all kinds of sex stories starring rock musicians -- the one I wrote about Guns 'n Roses where Axl was wearing those black leather gloves -- I still visualize the picture that inspired that -- and the Beatles slash I've already collected off LiveJournal. In retrospect, it kinda surprises me that slash fantasies never occurred to me in my most dedicated music fan days when there were so many, many musicians I was drooling over. But hey, now I have stuff I'm not jaded about to ponder. Annoying for a scenario to lose its power after too much use.

16 Sep -- This morning's waking-up fantasy was about Slash (the man, not the genre). I was fucking him in the ass with a strap-on - it was something he'd never done (moderately hard to find with someone who's had 20 years of available groupies). It was really hot to press my tits against his back, reaching around first to put a finger in his mouth and then down to circle a nipple with that slick finger, grinding my own hips into the base of the dildo.

27 Feb 2006 -- I had this dream that was like Sixteen Candles gone pornographic (though oddly enough, during the dream I kept thinking of Fast Times at Ridgemont High) -- after the Anthony Michael Hall nerd tried to get his date with the sweet Molly Ringwald character (who then receded into the background) the male population of the school, including the previous nerd, gathered under a pier or something to see the hot blonde chick take off her top (as promised in advance) and then rub herself through her panties and then pull them aside and get some help from the hands of one of the popular guys (but no other parts of him). Then my brain went off into her being a sort of instructor for this school for inexperienced guys that was really all about getting them to know what to do with a woman.