I believe that I mentioned that this blog would be a combination of my current sexual hijinks and some older stories. (For those of you here from FT, you will see the posts that were on my closed thread, but without asterisks.) Since I can’t be sure when my next sexual liaison will be (dammit to the bowels of hell), here’s a little something that happened earlier this summer with Plane Guy…
On Sunday I texted Plane Guy to see if he might have time this week to see me before I go to Boston for a week for work. “Can’t this week. Way too much going on.” Bummed, I told him that I would text him when I get home from my business trip. I usually see him about once a month to every 6 weeks, so I did not think he’d be able to see me, but it never hurts to ask.
Tonight I was sitting on my deck with my neighbor having a little wine and catching up on our sexual escapades when my phone made its notification noise. “Yo” from PG. He asked what I was doing and I said “nothing” and then I replied, “…what are you doing? Wanna fuck?” I guess the wine made me bold.
He asked when I was leaving for Boston and then he asked if I would come see him tomorrow night. PG asked for some pictures (obvi), but I uncharacteristically told him that I would do them later instead of immediately dropping everything and getting right to it. He loved the pics that I sent over an hour later, which I don’t quite understand since it seems to be practically identical photos each time: ass, ass, and more #ass.
While I love seeing PG, I love it even more when HE initiates contact. I know I’m wanted.
Since he told me on Sunday that he was sooo busy this week, I wonder what changed that he can now spare time for me so soon after our last visit (23-May-2017).
So here’s the thing. Since last night’s unexpected text, I was looking forward to seeing Plane Guy today. I couldn’t concentrate in my meetings today – not at all. My brain was absolutely focused on the fun to come later in the day.
Around 4:30 I began my grooming routine, somewhat pleased that my hair had cooperated earlier in the day. On pre-planned PG days, I do my hair in the morning, lest it not turn out right…then I have plenty of time to fix it. I had just walked downstairs to chill a bit before the drive and got this text from PG: “Doll face. We’re gonna have to wait till you get back. I’m still in New York and have to go to my office. I’m not gonna make it home by then. And I’m brutally exhausted.” Mother. Of. Balls. I was ready to cut a bitch, per usual. My reply may have been a teensy bit passive-aggressive: “Well, then. The last hour was a waste, eh?” He replied: “Fuck babe. I’m sorry.” To which I said, “Your loss. I look hot.” Then he replied: “You always do babe.” Heh, I know. Three minutes later, he texted again saying that if I could get to his place by 8:00, he would skip the office. YAY! Brat girl 1, Daddy 0.
When I arrived at his place, I felt selfish for practically forcing him to see me and I said that I was sorry I behaved like a #brat. He stood up and pulled my dress (though it was sold as a tunic top, not a dress, but whatevs…) over my head and he removed my bra. He forgave me for my brattiness. I eagerly dropped to my knees and paid proper oral respect to his Majestic Peen™ and then there was some other stuff. Butt stuff. He really loves when I toss his salad. I don’t particularly know what the fuck I am doing up in that dark and scary place, but I am eager and I always involve the frank and beans in my adventures.
My god…he is so ridiculously hot that every time I see him it takes my breath away. He smells so good that I could cry. When I get home, it pains me to shower his scent off of me. Sometimes I don’t. I go to sleep smelling of PG. Yes, I am demented. PG also has incredibly smooth skin…I just want to rub against him. Oh, yeah…rubbing. Let’s try to focus here.
After he got his fill, he asked me to bend over the bed and he reciprocated eagerly and voraciously, but that was just the appetizer. You know the “Sit On My Face” song by Monty Python? Yeah. That happened. PG got on his back on the bed and demanded, “Sit on my face.” Well, okay, cowboy! Here’s hoping that this doesn’t end with him in a neck collar. I usually try to be dainty for this maneuver, not putting my full weight on my victim. Tonight, I, myself, was not. Dainty, that is. I put all of my weight on his face and he surprised me with his vigor. For someone who was “brutally exhausted” just a few hours ago, he sure did offer up a proper one-tongue salute to my pink bits – with the most attention to the back part of said bits. What is it with PG and my ass? This went on for quite a while. A few times, he slapped my rear because he needed air. Sheesh. So demanding.
While this was happening, we went between me restraining his hands as I leaned back and his hands smacking up and wiggling my booty. Of course, the comments about the perfection of my large ass were interspersed between PG gasping for air, him having lots of my salad, and some bites on my ass cheeks.
We switched things up after a while. We did the ol’ reverse cowgirl…the position was not new to me with PG, but the, uh, orifice was. Anal reverse cowgirl. Holy crap (pun intended). It was ridiculous and he really hit the right spot! I do feel like with PG, I have no wrong spots…ya feel me? Again I wonder why in the hell women (and many men, sadly) don’t want to pleasure that part of the anatomy. You all are missing out, I promise you! (Honeytoes’ extra tip: ANAL FTW!!!! Seriously, just take a quick ride on the E train – enema – and get the fuck to it, y’all!!!! Even if nothing goes inside of your booty, that area is extremely sensitive and receptive to touch. Try it. If you don’t like it, at least you’ll know. Now…if you do choose to put something in ya booty hole, use lots of lube and go slowly.)
So. Reverse cowgirl. He is keen on that, of course, because my butt is right there for him to ogle/lick/manhandle. And he did so…while reminding me that “Daddy loves his Princess” several times. (Yes, I reciprocated the love stuff. Whatevs.) PG let me take control of the pace and depth. As I was gyrating him deeper inside of me, I had two free hands and I worked over his cock and balls, as well as giving some love to his asshole with my finger. He gave me permission to “cum for Daddy” and I did so. Powerfully.
Right…the whole permission thing is part of our BDSM game. While he does not technically have me in chastity or control my orgasms, the permission thing is pretty hot in the moment. “Okay, Princess, cum for Daddy.” I am not sure that I would allow him to have total control of whether and when I orgasm. That would be difficult because we see one another so infrequently. But anyway…
We switched up positions and the position we ended up in was new to me. I really should have taken a picture because I was there and it puzzles me when I now try to picture it. So, lemme try to explain. Me: on my back with butt at the edge of the bed – like when in the GYN office, but with my feet at my head. PG: his back towards me, with peen pointed downward to access my #bootyhole. That hit a spot inside of me that nothing else did. There were a few other position changes and when he came, I made mental notes of his “O face” and his noises.
He always (even the first time I went to his place in August of last year) sends me on my way by telling me several times to be very careful driving and “Text me as soon as you get home.” And some kisses and hugs, too. He is quite sweet when he is not a raging sexbeast. He also told me to have a safe trip to Boston and to text him when I get home from Boston so that we can plan something for the following week.
As a reminder, I usually see him every 4 to 6 weeks. I saw him today and last Tuesday…twice in less than 2 weeks. Tonight was the 12th time that we hooked up, in case anyone is interested.
…and always remember: Ho is life, y’all!
#notesfromaslut #honeytoes #hoislife