Too bad blind dates don't come to your door, delivered like something great you sent yourself from Amazon. Online shopping, something I didn't think I would become addicted to, was my retail therapy. Other than having your treasure arrive like a present, the best thing about it is still the window shopping. I do like getting a bargain but the chase, the planning, the research and then the discovery of that one, just right, exceptional item!

I wasn't a fool though. I knew who paid that credit card each month. Me. I could be careful and still buy stuff. The trick was to make sure it really was something I really did need. Most of the time I was successful that way. Books, print books, tended to be my downfall.

A good book is a good companion. Like that blind date but, in this case, he can hold up his end of the conversation. Of course, only my lips were moving. …more

I joined NovelTrove last night and posted a story for their contest with the theme, swinging. My story came in last of ten. Maybe due to being entered just as the contest was closing or maybe it just wasn't sexy/ slutty enough. I liked it. I wrote it in an hour, including the time I pulled it together in my mind before typing anything. Usually I type as I think. This delayed start was better. I had to remember all my ideas and that helped as the story developed.

Click the link to see the story on the site and give it a vote if you liked it. If you didn't like it, just don't bother to vote. Seems simple enough to me.

It's Funny, but you Smell Like Sex

I am sitting alone, still enjoying ripples of an orgasm, when my husband comes back. He has our car keys and doesn't look very pleased.

"Maybe you're right. All this swinging is for people not like us." He passes me my coat. I'm surprised it was right where I had left it, folded neatly on the seat next to me.

Taking my hand, something he hadn't done in a very long time, he led me to the back door and the parking lot. He opened my door first and waited for me to get inside the car before closing the door for me. It was nice.

On the way home he talked about the woman he had ended up with. She was older than she had looked, wore a lot of make-up and he didn't really like her eagerness for the swinging scene. Three children later and my husband still likes to think he is the sexual guru in our relationship. My disinterest in sex hasn't really bothered him, other than being an inconvenience at times.

"It's funny, but you smell like sex." He says.

"So do you." I reply.

"I guess so, we were both there after all. Want to stop for a coffee? Make it a bit more of a night out?"

Drive through coffee because neither of us feels like getting out of the car yet. He feels out of sorts and me... I'm just feeling content and languid.

I take the coffee cup and notice the bit of paper I've had in my fist all this time. He notices too.

"What's that?" He asks.

I open it and then push it into my purse. "Someone gave me their phone number."

"And you're going to keep it?" He says, startled, a little annoyed.

"Well, I don't want to litter in the parking lot. I'll find it the next time I clean out my purse and toss it out then."

He seems satisfied with that, more or less. I say nothing more about it.

At home I leave him to pay the babysitter and check on the kids, lock up the house and all those other rituals. I strip off my dress in the bathroom. My panties are gone and I'm surprised he didn't notice my boobs swinging around half in and half out of my open bra. But, I'm the good wife, he only looks at me that way once in awhile.

My clothes go into the laundry basket. I stand looking at my naked reflection in the bathroom mirror while waiting for the shower to get hot. Tonight I want a hot shower. I don't want anything cold touching me, taking away the feeling of being touched by strong, knowing, and patient hands. My pussy is still leaking. It feels strange after all this time. But, I like it. I'm even a little proud, or maybe it's defiance.

His idea to go to a swingers party, not mine. His idea to leave me sitting there, the good wife. I didn't look for anything, other than a cocktail or two. I forget what they were called now.

Stepping into the shower, the steam rises around me and the hot water pours over me. I wash away the evidence while I relive the encounter.

A kiss at the back of my neck. Strong, big fingers stroking my back, making me feel like a purring cat. Something he whispered near my ear that I didn't really understand. Hands on my hips, under my dress, my panties slipped down. I felt a tall, wide, male body pressed against my back. Then he gently pushed me to lean forward. His fingers just a little cold but quickly warming between the lips of my pussy. Playing with my clit, slow and then a little faster and then slowing right down again as I started the first wave of orgasm. Slowing, slower and so slow I thought the orgasm would stay at the pinnacle of just starting forever. Crashing, thudding and trembling inside of me, so strong I hadn't even noticed he was gone and I was alone again.

Another orgasm in the shower. My husband coming down the hallway to our bedroom and our king sized bed, the best way to share a bed while not sharing anything.

Originally posted to Sex Kitten.net.

“Hello Dolly!” I yelled across the train station. He knew I was looking right at him, but he pretended he didn’t. Poor Dolly and his cute, little penis. We had such fun last night. At least I did.

Dolly, as I like to call him, wandered into my room from a party in another apartment down the hall. My fault for not having the door locked but, I was expecting my roommate home any minute.

Instead, Dolly came in. He didn’t have a coat, or a shirt or pants on. Just underwear. I knew there was a party, it was loud. I even knew Dolly, we had been introduced last year at a social event. He asked for my number but never phoned. So I didn’t look him up. But, now he was here. Pretty much nude and passed out drunk.

I decided to do something about it. I had time, art supplies and a collection of kitchen gadgets. Somewhere in all of that an idea was sure to come along.

First, I stripped him bare. That was a surprise. I’d never seen a micro, tiny penis before. Gorillas and such in nature documentaries don’t count. I thought it was cute. Like a little dolly penis. I played with it awhile. It got a bit longer, and a bit thicker, but not much. I didn’t get him to ejaculate. Likely due to him being passed out drunk. Disappointing.

I drew all over him. Personal tattoos. I left out his hands and face so he could go to work and not have a lot of explaining to do. I took photos of him. I posed him and took more photos. I had a lot of fun playing with my sleeping dolly.

My roommate had called and said she wouldn’t be coming in that night. So Dolly and I had the night to ourselves, well, mostly I had the night to myself with Dolly. I left him nude. He’s actually quite good looking and muscled. I’d never had the time to really explore a man’s body before. I’d only slept with a couple of boys and they weren’t interested in foreplay, not really. So, that night with Dolly, I had foreplay. All the foreplay I wanted with him.

His little penis was fun. Each time I got him hard again it was like watching time lapse photography of budding trees and plants.

In the morning he woke up not feeling so well. But, still hard as a rock, even when he realized all (or most) of what I had done to him. I guess I did take advantage of him. Some could say it was wrong. But, I didn’t use permanent ink and most of it washed off in the shower. I made him breakfast. He didn’t look me in the eye, didn’t really speak and rushed out the door with just a shy backward glance.

“Good bye, Dolly!” I yelled after him as he raced down the stairs.

Maybe this time he will call. I’d like to play with his little dolly penis again. Next time I want to make it squirt and tie a fussy little bow around it, like a tiny dolly dress.

Of course, if he doesn’t phone… I do have all those pictures. I’ve never blackmailed anyone before. It’s kind of a turn on to have Dolly under my thumb, maybe over my knee too.

Resources:

• The Small Penis User Group – Home of the Big Small Penis Party (in March).
• The Small Dick Club Presents: Small Penis Facts
• Tiny Penis Travels – Not active.

Write a Dirty Story

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Hoochy mail is a free online erotic mail service that allows users to customize erotic stories written by the sender to the recipient. They can be romantic, sexy, or off the wall. If you were to send this to your significant other (his personal email only please, no need to peak an employers' curiosity) well, let's just day this move can make a man come straight the hell home.

12 Ways To Bring The Sexy Back To Your Relationship | YourTango.

Originally posted to Sex Kitten.net.

He liked to be called Daddy. I was new to BDSM and kind of shy. He called me his mouse. He told me how to dress, what to do and when to do it, his way. I let him. He was happy.

We joined a local BDSM group. First we went to munches. I met other women there and that was great. Daddy would keep track of who I saw and when. He would comment on what I wore and ask me about men I met when I wasn’t with him. He would ask me if any whistled at me and then tell me to wear an even shorter skirt next time I went out.

Later we began going to scene parties where people talked openly about kinks, fetishes and role playing. Daddy liked me to wear bondage gear and show a lot of skin, even bare breasts. I didn’t really like it. But, some of the men were flattering, without being jerks about it… and I did like that.

One day several of the women began talking about having a Ladies Tea Party where any women (submissive, Dominant, or other) could attend, have a nice tea party and chat a bit. They were deciding on which men to invite to serve at the tea party. Only serving men were allowed to attend. I got an invitation to attend – BYO China teacup and saucer.

Daddy was not pleased. He said I could not go. But, I did and he came with me.

Maybe he just didn’t understand the concept of the party. Or he underestimated the women. I don’t want to say he was just a jerk forcing his way, but…

The women did not react the way he expected.

He was knocked down, stripped of his clothes and put into an adult diaper. He was collared with a thick leather strap attached to a chain leash. His wrists and ankles were manacled with a chain running between them. As he began to yell louder they muzzled him. Later, they told me it was an antique dog muzzle. They had brought everything with them, planned ahead, expecting he would force his way into the Ladies only party.

They left him bound, muzzled and stewing in a corner for the whole party. It was a lovely party. I did bring my own teacup and saucer. There were pretty sandwiches, tiny cupcakes and other treats. We talked about almost everything, not all of it about men or sex or BDSM. Though a few of the women did give a talk about women taking the Dom role in BDSM relationships. I liked that. I told Daddy how much I liked that.

He was much quieter when they freed him. He was told to clean up and he did. First he tidied the living room and then the kitchen. He washed the dainty China teacups and saucers for all the women. Last of all he wrapped up all the fancy teacups in tissue paper and gave them back to each woman along with an apology. He was very polite. Such a good boy.

I don’t call him Daddy any more.