Tag Archives: biographical

Damien: Concludes

(To join the party where it starts, read part one here and part two here.)

When we left off, Damien was devouring me with oral. If you don’t want that, don’t read the earlier parts (you silly). We pick up well into his muff-diving ventures, where I’m on the verge of reaching my very happy place.


clutch your pictures of the pope
pray to god for love and hope

I didn’t care about potential spectators now. All I wanted was to come. Gasping, I let go of him and clutched the counter’s edge as I leaned away from him, spreading my legs the little further they could go. His tongue plunged into me, flicking and darting, as his thumb began feverishly massaging my clit.


I accidentally bit my lip so hard it bled as my body shook its way to orgasm. Coming, I shuddered violently and collapsed against the wall. He continued sucking and nibbling, which was becoming unbearable now that I was through, so I forced him off of me, pulling his head up and away from my mounds until he was eye-level with me.

Still looking hungry — famished — he gnashed his mouth against mine. Our tongues began fighting with each other as he leaned his still-hard cock against me.

bring the virgin home for luck
bolt the door down, keep it shut

Biting my lip and taunting me, lightly toying with my pubes, he dug into his pocket and produced a condom. He tore the packet open, and before he could proceed, I took it from him.

Gripping his shaft’s base and tugging slowly, but hard, back and forth with my left hand, I used my right hand to slip the condom on his throbbing cock and unrolled it as slowly and deliberately as I could, tugging all the while, until the rubber extended fully.

He kissed me hard as I stroked him a few times more, but then he again pinned my arms behind my back as his cock fumbled its way to my vaginal opening and then, with pressure, slid tightly between my swollen, shivering lips.

i tried hard to mend my wicked ways

We fucked fast and furious, knowing the partygoers lingering across the lawn, seeing them flicker their flashlights on the leaves in the forest, past the greenhouse, the sounds of their shallow, distant laughter contrasting with our slurping, thumping, and the smacking of rapid fucking, all rounded out nicely by our endless gasps and groans.

the damage done
there’s nothing left to save

Neither of us were interested in making this a long, meaningful encounter, and that much was clear as he held my legs up and thrust deep and long into me, over and over and over and over again.

and i tried
and i tried
and i tried
and i tried

I’d never had such a frenzied, semi-public session of sex like that before, being only 20. Judging by Damien’s fevered thrusting, it was a new experience for him, too. I was so riled, so ready to come.

nude (53)

He bit his lip and gutterally groaned, moving his hands around my ass, and pulled me as hard onto his cock as he could, holding me there as long as he could, throbbing hard inside me, as he gyrated his cock ever so slightly. Mere moments of this, and I couldn’t help but orgasm. Gasping, I shuddered violently during that hard, sustained thrust, tremendously weakening his resolve as I collapsed against him.

He groaned and gritted his teeth, slowly pulling his cock out, then forcing it back in, hard. And again. And again.

and i tried

and i tried
and i tried

And I moaned. He thrust hard into me a fourth time, but this time, was rocked with convulsions and crumpled against me, coming almost painfully, groaning, with his neck and face covered in sweat as he gasped for breath, his mouth cupping my neck. “Mm,” he chuckled weakly, now wasted and spent.

clutch your pictures of the pope
just like i told you
pray to god for love and hope
just like i warned you

We stayed there for a few minutes, slumped, still wet, against each other, just getting our breaths back. I noticed the partygoers hadn’t advanced one bit.

“We could’ve taken our time after all.”

Damien looked outside, looked at me, and laughed.

“Mm, god, no. I wouldn’t change a thing. We did just fine,” he sighed, still exhausted.

“Beats the hell out of lame techno, at the very least.”

“Oh, hell, that might even beat the shit out of the Beasties, you know, and they rock. Hard.” He groaned softly, and nibbled my neck, softly singing their anthem. “You gotta fight for your right — to par-tay…”

I chuckled quietly.

With that, we tidied up at a nearby sink to return to the party. We kept the conversation light. Neither of us mentioned seeing each other again.

After that night, we ran in the same circles occasionally, and always shared a knowing smile, but nothing more. As cool as he was, you just knew he couldn’t be a “boyfriend.”

Didn’t matter. Before long, I was back with T. anyways.

T., who never did find out.

bring the virgin home for luck
just like i told you
bolt the door down, keep it shut
just like i warned you

Which is just as well… considering.



Sleep unable to find me, I lie naked under my sheets, a hand across my breasts, the other stretched atop my thigh.

The dim streetlight filters through my cotton bedroom shades and its shadows dancing on my ceiling are all I see.

For I know that when I close my eyes again, you’ll flood back in front of them. Like you always do.

In imaginings of those things soon to happen. Of ecstasy. Of this moment we’ve spoken of for so long, as those miles pulled us apart all that time.

it’s been a long time comin’
it’s been a long time comin’
i’m gonna stab your kissy-kissy mouth

My mind swirls with thoughts of the warm wetness of your mouth. How your kiss will leave me tingling and weak from my torso to my knees. How I’ll weaken in your possessive grasp. How I long to breathe you in and taste you.

And now, mere hours separate us.

it’s been a long time comin’

All those conversations about wanting. Promises made. Events foretold. Fantasies divulged. Talk, that’s all we’ve had.

And all of it to blame on my kissing you on a whim that night, moments before you left. When I broke that boundary between us. You surprised me. Overcome, you forced me against the wall, kissing me as if you were already penetrating me.

That night returns to me so often, stirring desires.


So many bitter-sweet memories of arousal. So many moments left satiated by myself, and never you. So many wrongs. So many regrets. So many things to make right.

And yet that night is all I recall.

it’s been
a long time comin’

How hard you felt. The way you pinned my arms to the wall, pressed into me, restraining me. The distant droning as your cab driver laid intermittently on his horn out there in that shadowy cul-de-sac, and despite it, you continuing to probe me intently with your tongue. The sound of your devastatated gulp when finally you knew you had to pull away.

The feeling then, knowing that a plane was to steal you away to London, where a year of university awaited you. Knowing that you were leaving me for that year with nothing but a kiss, a grope, and that feeling of being overpowered against a wall to tide me over.

And now, nothing but a jet over the Atlantic keeps us apart. In less than eight hours, you’ll be in my arms. Now, at the mere thought of you, my heartbeat collides upon itself in a cacophony of expectation and need.

it’s been a long time comin’

And now, nothing but a jet over the Atlantic keeps us apart. In less than eight hours, you’ll be in my arms. Now, at the mere thought of you, my heartbeat collides upon itself in a cacophony of expectation and need.

i’m gonna stab your kissy-kissy heart

The need to fuck you, the tease finally done. To have you within me — thrusting, holding, lasting. To finally know if it’s to be everything it was promised to be during those expensive, desperate, by-the-minute sessions spent gasping, wanting, yet denied, on the phone.

I know it will be. I knew it would be when I was pinned against that wall, wanting you as badly then as I do now. As badly as you clearly wanted me. It overwhelms me to think how that desire has since grown, and how forcefully you might take me eight hours from now. And how much I desire you to spend me utterly.

Never have I wanted a man like this, like I want you now.

it’s been a long time comin’

*The lyrics included are from Kissy-Kissy, a dirty blues-rock/punk ballad by a guitar duo fittingly from both sides of the Atlantic called The Kills. Live, this song was one of the most erotic, driving sexual things I have ever, ever witnessed. I felt dirty and abused at the end, and wanted nothing more than to not go home alone. The gentle licking of guitar strings and steady throbbing beat coupled with wistful, pained Velvet Underground-ish vocals tinted with a touch of PJ Harvey gets me hot every single time. The duo endlessly repeats the same lyrics over the five minutes, and it ebbs like the slow rhythmic cadence of two experienced, passionate lovers in no rush to reach their destination.

Let the Games Begin

Ah, the inaugural posting.

Where to begin? The balls? The shaft? A fine question.

But no, we’ll start with something a little less tasty. Let’s go for that age-old question of why. Why the Cunting Linguist.

Hmm. Good question.

I’ve always enjoyed innuendo. I enjoy batting it around. I love being a tease, sexually and intellectually. It’s all a game.

Unfortunately, a lot of people didn’t pick up the handbook, and too many people ignore the fucking rules.

That said, people who’ve read me elsewhere are thinking, “So, it’ll be mostly rants about sex?”


Honestly? I haven’t a fucking clue. I’m starting to think it’d be fun to write some erotica as well — my style, whatever that might be. It’ll definitely include stories from my past. I’ve already promised to tell the tale of when I chipped a tooth during sex.

And I will, but it’s a long story and involves another face from my past, one I miss and would love to encounter along a bare wall with the lights down low.

An epic finish to that tale, one that would see both the players utterly satiated, and then totally denied a future encounter when The Truth would enter the picture. If there’s one ex-lover I want to phone when it’s 3:00 in the morning on a hot night, no breeze, and that familiar tingle and shortening of breath finds me alone in my bed… It’d be J.

I have a lot of strong feelings about sex. I think we’re denied a lot of pleasure due to hang-ups in society. That said, I’m still a pretty old-fashioned girl in some regards, since I’ve never been promiscuous, and I’m not into swinging or the like.

No, for me it’s still about romance, creativity, sex toys, light bondage, teasing, taunting, toying, food, stimulants, erotica, music, location, and lighting. How dull.

I’ll admit, I’m a little curious about sadomasochism, but I honestly have to say that I enjoy pleasure and reward, doting and toying. Punishment isn’t really my bag. But I wouldn’t want to be judgmental, if you know what I mean.


Still, I’ve encountered a surprising amount of men who think they’re open and adventurous when it comes to sex, but you mention the word “bondage” and there’s this image they conjure of some dom maxed-out in leather with a bull-whip and studded collars.

Sure, if stereotypes fit your bill. I have no bullwhip, and very little leather, but I’m more than willing to get into a bound situation, as either the binder or the bindee. It’s all about variety, n’est ce pas?

I’ll definitely be writing on things of those calibre. Tackling those tough dilemmas, like, to shave or not to shave.

I may even post recipes from my aphrodisiac cookbook. No, I’m not kidding. Yes, I do have one. And yes, it does work wonders, but then so does a handjob.

I’m open to receiving questions from y’all, preferably via email so I get the element of surprise when I post the question. I’d laugh my ass off if you sent in whack questions that are completely bullshit, and I’d still answer them. You’re creative, do something with it.

* * *

BUT… I really don’t want to pigeon-hole this site into “just sex.” It seems shallow, at first blush.

Then again, it seems to me that sex is used in everything from video games to burger advertisements. Confining the topic to sex-related might open up a whole interesting subculture of issues to examine.

But there’ll always be oral sex. Sucking, nibbling, chewing, licking. All those lovely verbs that bring a grin to my lips every time my imagination kicks in. “Oral pleasure.” Of all the euphemisms used in sex, that’s the best one. That’s the one that reminds you: It’s about pleasure.

Let’s hope I bring you some. Stick around, and we’ll see where this game of cat-and-mouse will lead. This could be fun.