Unveiling fantasies

Masturbation. It's one of the favourite subjects among guys. Even at work I eventually hear jokes about wanking. Not counting the popular references: like when a band or a musician is too much of a virtuosis, so it's "wanking". If someone is left behind on something (especially in getting a girl), he's  "only wanking". and so on. And girls do use these references too: but always concerning guys.
Girls don't talk about masturbation. They don't make jokes about masturbation. Among girls, the hotter and spicier reference we would make to our sexual hunger is "to get wet". We can get wet and we can desire a guy sexually, we can even tell our friends we'd fuck and suck him, but I never ever heard a single female friend admit she'd finger herself for some guy. And I don't mean making a webcam spectacle of it, I mean pure, simple, intimate masturbation. Come on, there might be nothing wrong about it. If it does, then there is something very wrong with me, for I do masturbate a lot. Yes, I have a "dirty mind", yes, I think about sex quite a lot, yes, I have great inspiration for this. and it's obvious that writting about it makes me willing for some relief. Besides, verbal sex is the only modality I've been practicing lately, writing my thoughts or teasing my muse.
Fact is that, as every sexually active people I know , I have a few "fetishes" that I know I will never make real.Even if I had the chance, I wouldn't because I know the "real deal" would never be as comfortable as fantasy.
Like girls, for exemple. I always thought I was bit bissexual, because some girls get me aroused. I can appreciate the sexual appeal of a women's body, I can see a sexy girl and have a thought further the regular "she's pretty". Actually some girls do inspire me naughty thoughts, but I learnt from the experience that actual sex with girls is nothing that satisfies me. I liked to go to whorehouses when I was younger. I dunno why, I already had this strange fascination for sex and girls whose life was all about that. Of course I kept a glamourous vision of this, as if none of that girls were there to have money to feed her kids, to buy medicines for a sick mother or as if all their clients were always desirable, rich and polite guys. "My" prostitutes were all in for the fun, like the Girls of The Playboy Mansion. Though I knew reality cuts deeper.

Sex in public. Another thing that always got a hold on me. I remember a porn I used to like where a couple was playing pool, and at some point they started making out on the table, in the middle of the bar. It was full of people around, some made some comments and stuff, but mainly nobody even seem to care. Ah, only in movies, indeed. First, because probably if a girl submits to a scene like this, she's most likely to end up gangbanged by ten other guys who'd interfere. Second, because I would probably not feel confortable with people staring - and I bet in real life they would stare. And worse: someone might document and spread that. And I do like to be a respectable woman. I need to. I'm a mother, afterall. You might forget this when reading my stuff, but I never do...

When I started my sexual life, I never thought I'd like bondage. I got interested in handcuffs when I got a pair from my friend who owned a sex shop for girls. But fact is that I never got a chance to use it properly, and ended up giving it as a gift to another girl who I knew would had better fun of it.

Now I'm thinking in buying a new pair. Who knows, a whole world of new sensations is yet to come...

About sex, love and bacon.

Again, I'm feeling stressed. Again, comes to my mind the thought I should have some sex: what would sure not solve any of my problems, but at least discharges the inner tension. And I don't even know if this is actually what I need. After my divorce I managed to spend, what, eight months without sex. Gee, I didn't even had a date, a kiss, nothing. And I survived pretty well.
So, I thought after I had some (!!) sex afterall, I would relax and even open up for other partners, but in fact is what happened was the complete opposite of that. I don't even bother thinking of other guys, since I know from experience no one else would give me the thrills as my favourite does. If you read  "The true story of how I became a woman" post, you might think that's why I'm feeling like this, but looking at the background story as a whole, I now think that I should had expected for that. Just that at some point, I was pretty sure it would never happen. As I was pretty sure I would never meet him again. Happily, I was wrong in both cases.


You can have great sex without being in love. You can really enjoy lousy sex, if you are in love. But when you're having great sex with the one you love deeply it's just a mystical experience. Each touch, each part of the skin, each sensation, sound, taste and colour of it is delightful. Every breath is a remarkable moment, and the orgasms are so unforgettable that I remember it all - and when I do, my body reacts. Then, at the same time I'm urging for this and I'm refusing to get frustrated in having his scent off my skin by something that it's not what I'm craving for.
I used to feel pretty naive in saying this. And I was made fun of so many times because of my sexual faithfulness, that I found the ultimate argument: It's like when you are craving for bacon. You know chocolate is good. Chocolate is great, and I can hand you the best piece of chocolate ever, and you may eat and enjoy it, but it won't fulfill your craving for bacon. You can go to the best buffet of the world and get to have as much as you can of the most delicious and diverse foods of the universe, but if they offer anything but bacon, for better than it is, it won't make you satisfied. And even the artificial bacon-flavoured stuff won't help. So, why bother?
Let's pretend I'm on a diet, then. Until I get bacon, or I starve.
Who knows, I might be in need of loosing some pounds.

How to sail a sinking ship

Whoa...what a messy week! Day after day I feel more glad about getting home to my bedroom, my pajamas. You know what people say about "killing one lion a day", this is for the weak: I am slaying dragons.
Just between us, I am not sure for how long I will stay in this job. Actually, sometimes I have this impression the enterprise itself won't last too long. The nature of it is already disposable from the beggining, since it's that kind of "trendy" thing. But fact is that I'm working mostly with a bunch of incompetents.
I'm not talking on personal grounds, here. Just that the lack of organization and understanding of some departments not only makes my professional role a living hell, but also is digging a grave for the whole company faster than an armadillo.
Not that I care, anyway. I'm not really the kind of employee that incorporates the "team spirit" or any shit like that. I do my job the best I can - and I know what I'm doing. But they are not paying me for passion, just to work. So, if the whole thing go through the sinkhole, the only thing I will worry about is to find another salary.
After all, I need money to feed my addiction, and it is pretty expensive: about US$ 1.500, just the tickets...

Bonded by love

Last night I arrived pretty pissed off. I had worked the whole weekend up to midnight, had my car towed, I was robbed on the train station and was living a hurricane of hormones because of my PMS. These, to say the least.
So, when I got home, I wasn't much of talking. Didn't bother to dinner, instead I rushed straight to the shower and from there to bed. Tried one last effort in order to make me feel any better by putting on a brand new nightie I had bought thinking about a future special occasion. But is seems that the gift was just lowered to consolation. I decided to have a double dosis of my prescripted strong medicine. I needed to be sure I would sleep.

 I was already in bed, covered and about to dream when I heard his voice.
-Are you awake?
-No. - I answered, bit bitterly. We had this stupid, useless argument some days before, and since then I was pretty afraid to say anything without thinking twice before. And by then, I wasn't up to think anything. I just wanted to sleep that damn stress out.
-Are you mad at me? - He asked. But the fact he raised his voice a bit made clear that, even if I had any reason to, he wasn't up to apologize.
-No! - I raised my head from the pillow, feeling like drunk because of the medicines. He approached to kiss me and was embracing me closer. I was feeling claustrophobic, about to faint, but didn't want to make him think I was denying him. That kiss was taking longer than the usual and I felt his hands clinging to my back, in an obvious sign that he was expecting to have sex with me. I love it and I would, even on my worse days. But I was too tired and too high (or low) on sleeping pills, I just couldn't take that. I stop kissing him and he was forcing his tongue deeper to my mouth. I tried to get loose from his arms, but he would only grab me harder.

-I'm sorry, I'm just too tired. - I said, but he went on as he never listened a thing. "Stop!" - I asked again, and again he ignored me. "I don't wanna." - I even said that, but he was getting harder, kissing me deeper, squeezing my body, pressing his hard-on against me. "Stop, you're hurting me!" - I said when I felt I was really passing out if he didn´t get off me.
He stopped kissing me and covered my mouth with his strong hand. "Shut the fuck up." - Red said. I had never saw him aggressive like that. He wasn't smiling or making that any easier, his eyes were cold and the hair covering part of his face gave him an even more cruel looks. In that moment, I feared him. Never thought I could.

He pushed me to bed and let all his weight over me. Ripped out the upper part of my nighties to expose my breasts. "Hey, how you dare to..!" - I started complaining, still believing he was just playing a game, but he slapped my face and covered my mouth and nose, suffocating me.

-I said 'shut the fuck up!', didn't I?

I started crying. He let me breathe, I thought about screaming but I didn't dare to make a sound. He was madly sucking my breasts, squeezing them, biting my nipples. First came an almost unbearable pain, so hard that got me numb. Or maybe it was the medicines. The numbness was getting pleasant. The pain was gone, and when I felt he shoving his fingers up on my pussy, I could feel the moist drooling. He took his hand out of me and rubbed this wet all over my face, forcing me to suck his fingers. Then he squeezed my face.


-You're looking good tonight. - That wasn't just a compliment. Sounded more like a threatening.

I noticed that with his free hand he was taking his pants out. I couldn´t see as he was holding me back tightly from the neck, but I could guess his dick was rock hard and hot. He made me sure of it by hitting it hard against my pussy. He was slapping my clit with his cock, pinching it with his fingertips, brushing my asshole with my pussy juice. Teasing, I was afraid he would just shove that whole meat inside my ass, and he knew it. He started fucking me hard. He let go on my neck and was grabbing my hips with both hands, moving me roughly. It wasn´t him who was shoving his cock inside me, he was actually pulling and pushing my pussy up and down to him. At some point he was using my boobs as handlers to do it, and then he was again sucking and biting them while he went deeper and harder. I could feel his balls squeezing against my asshole, deep as he was. He was roaring and moaning as an animal, forcing my legs to spread, he actually grabbed his iPhone and started filming or taking closeup pictures of my pussy being mercilessly banged. By then, I couldn't care less. I could barely feel when he stopped fucking my pussy, so sour, hot and swollen it was. But I did feel when he grabbed my hair. That hurted, I screamed, or tried to. Because he had got up and forced me to bend me to my knees up on the bed, then rubbed his wet cock all over my face before choking me with it. I tasted a bit of blood, it was obvious I was hurt.

-Oooh... suck me, you bitch. Swallow it all.
One hand kept my hair caught, obligating me to go forward and backwards on his cock, gagging me from any screaming. The other slapped me hard on my butt. I could feel it getting red and hot from the spanking. I looked up to him, he had still that cold looks and -fuck - how sexy the motherfucker was. He pierced his eyes in mine and gave me that sadistic smile. By that moment I had no idea whatsoever what I was feeling anymore. I had never been that humiliated, I had never been that mistreated, I had never felt so horny. The sleeping pills made me so stoned I was the perfect victim for that date rape. I was even shutting down for some times, because  things started to happen in flashes. He was choking me with his dick, he was fucking my tits, he was rubbing his cock in my face, forcing it down my throat while grabbing my neck straight, so he could shove it deeper. I dunno how much time had been passed since he was abusing me, but I couldn't fight against the effect of the sleeping pills anymore. Everything was getting blurred. I closed my eyes and passed out.

I woke up with something cold being shoved to my pussy. I screamed, but then noticed I was gagged. My hands were tied together, my legs were tied spreaded, to the bounds of the bed. I couldn't turn back to see him, but he leaned over me gently, kissing my neck and caressing my shoulders.

-I love you. - He whispered in my ear. And turned on the vibrator he had just pushed inside my pussy. For one second, my body relaxed. I felt his hands down to my back, massaged my hips and spreaded my butt. Then there was something hot and moist to my asshole. And by then it was already too late to try any escape - as if I could.

He took the vibrator off my pussy and dived his entire cock inside my asshole at once. Then he took his dick out and fucked my pussy with the vibrator again. And out. And I felt his cock ripping out my butthole again. And then started fucking it hard, in and out. He shoved the dildo back inside my pussy and left it there while he was unraveling my asshole deeper and harder as ever. I was desperately screaming and moving, but all tied, that was useless. He was roaring again, saying a bunch of stuff I could not understand, I felt my clit so hard it was rubbing against the sheets and at some point I exploded into an squirting orgasm that expelled the dildo from inside my pussy. My body was shaken, I contracted my butt and felt him cumming inside my asshole, that hot stuff squirting into me, he screamed as an animal grabbing my ass so hard I could feel his nails hurting my skin.




He layed down, not on top, but beside me, panting. I could notice he was devastated, but still put a huge effort in untie me. The last thing he freed me from was the gag. And kissed me, softly and gently as he always did. His eyes were sweeter than ever and he caressed my hair with a passionate smile.

-I love you.

And this enslaved me forever.

.

Spring feelings (a.k.a Lyhyt romanssi)

So, spring is here. I'm amazed of no matter how dead the city might look, flowers still blossom everywhere. I especially love the species of tree we call "ipe". By this time of the year, they mostly doesn't have just one single leaf, instead, they get totally covered by flowers. Some trees grows yellow ones, some other has purple ones, white ones, pink ones. And these colors paint the city in a remembrance that there is still a lot to love in this world.
Sunday woke up and is already late, but yet I lay here, struggling to get up. Sometimes before I open my eyes, I pretend i'm still on a bed faraway, having his arm as a pillow and his heartbeat for lullaby. I wonder if many people out there were at least once, at least half as happy as I was back then. As I still hope to be at some point, when I get flashed by that shining eyes again. That impression they can look straight into my soul, the sight that makes me smile uncontrollably to the point I feel I'm the silliest happier person in the world, as if it's a sight of heaven indeed. What would you feel if you were touched by an angel, if you could ride an unicorn, if you found the gold in the end of the rainbow?  Maybe there are not such things in this world: they are only allegories of a happiness few can believe to find. In this world, the best we can get is to feel it. And I do, since I found him.

But for now, I walk only with this heartwarming memory through the flower carpet of our spring. That's what's up for today.

The true story of how I became a woman. Really.

Truly, is amazing how the most popular posts here are Mr. Red ones. I'm starting to believe you readers are more interested in him than in me...That's okay, me too am more interested in him than in most of you readers, and I also think my life gets bit more interesting when he's around. Specially in sexy flesh and hot blood. Yeah...maybe he's not that imaginary afterall. Just most of the time.

Actually, I feel like confessing you all something that took me some time to admit, even to myself, and I hope this helps some of you guys to be more attentious to it. When I arrived from my Not-So-Lonely-moon I was sitting with a bunch of female friends I haven't been seeing for a long time, and after a whole lot of beers and a pack of cigarettes we started entering on this subjects we just don't tell- not even to your best friends. And after hearing a couple of interesting stories, I had to come up with this.

-You know, I always loved sex and I mostly get to the orgasm everytime I have it, one way or another. But I had never got to cum by just being penetrated, without any other stimulation... I started my sexual life by 20 and by 26 I was already getting worried and thinking there were sure something wrong with me.

The girls said nothing. So I went on.

-One day I read an interview from a sexual therapist and she said that she herself had never got an orgasm before turning 30, so I kinda got relieved. But 30 came, and I didn't. Well, until...two weeks ago.

And then the girls were really interested. I laughed.

-It was so nice, you know...because I felt it coming - we always do - and I started moaning higher and higher, feeling his cock up to here - and I pointed to my womb - I almost stared crying, so happy I was. Really, I felt firecrackers all over. It was the best fuck of my life, for sure. I really feel more like a woman now. It is indeed amazing. It is powerful, and I really felt like celebrating.

-What did you do? - one of the girls laughed.
-Well, I took him downstairs for a smoke.
-Didn't you tell him?
-Of course not! What would he take me for?
-A cumming girl? - the other smiled.
-Nah, this is not the things you confess so easily. Because it somehow used to make me feel bad, actually. And besides, this would mean to confess his cock didn't make me cum all the other times before that, and we had quite a few.
-Well, you left saying you wanted something new from this vacation and it seems that in fact, you had..!
-Indeed..!

But one of the girls were pretty silent. We all looked to her and she ended up saying.

-Well...I'm glad I'm not the only one then.

I smiled.

-Don't worry. It will happen at some point. Now I'm pretty fucking sure of it.

If she ever find a guy like mine, oh boy, she will. Even if it take ten years or so.

Ten to midnight

"Drained out to the last drop of sanity
I let reason tighten the laces of this straight jacket
Hear me from a distance
If my voice is still strong enough to be listened
A wild ride through the time lapse
That separates truth from reality
Words that are now outdated, but still it bangs like a hangover
Counting sins, collecting flaws, breeding hate on the lower grounds
Raise your sword not to bend your knees
Fair enough for a game one can never win
Life gets shorter each step forward
And when I have only one last breath
Your name will be my whisper..."


- What are you thinking about?
- Life.
- Is it good, or is it bad?
- I dunno, I'm not alive yet.

I'd wake up happier...

...if I could make love to you first thing every morning.

It's wonderful when waking up is better than dreaming.

Still a dream, though...

Quitting this shit out

Know what? I might be totally bipolar, but I guess it's ridiculous to go on with this "low self esteem" talk. I just read the last post and truly, I just won't erase that shit as a reminder to myself of how ridiculous it actually is. I might work for a stupid company full of idiots, but nobody ever said my work is not good enough. Besides, fuck society and its hypocrite rules, it's already been a while since I decided not to give a fuck, and I´m doing it well so far. Indeed, I will never fit this world as long as I insist to be myself. And that's precisely what gets me down every now and then: I dunno why, I feel this need to dance to their music. Every now and then something convinces me that life would be easier if I just settled down and bend to the normality. This never works. Just gets me down instead.

Fact is, I never got anything from life by being normal. That's precisely why most wonderful things in my life are so extraordinary. Yeah, I will never have a business career. And probably will never know what stability means. I don't even get friends with stable people! My life won't be the way I was planning, nothing will happen the way it´s supposed to, because for a start, I kinda refuse to be what I'm probably supposed to.

This is me. Take me or leave me. Or whatever you want.
I might do the same.

As if you cared

I know I've been away. Unfortunately, not as away as I was supposed to. I still come online to facebook, tweet and check the stats of this crap. Just haven't been writting because, really, there's nothing useful to say. I've been feeling like shit for a bunch of reasons, and blogging about this somehow makes me feel stupid, specially when some people comes to say "hey, don't be like this, you're a wonderful, beautiful, loved person, blah, blah, blah.". Even more when this people are ones in fact, I don't even know. Or worse: ones that I do know: and I know they actually don't give a shit. Yeah, I do eventually make public my shitty self esteem. But believe me: if you don't get an alike inbox, this means you are not in the list of the ones who can help, so don't even bother to give a fuck. Make it a please.

Just a cruel joke

Once more Red

-I need you.

 I didn't care if he was sleeping, fucking or whatsoever. I called him at once and there he was. Ready to satisfy my dreams. Or something. I just wanted him to have me the hardest way, fingers playing me as an instrument, my body surrendered to his. I needed to feel his strong hands hitting me, harder and harder as he fucked me. Yes, big guy, you can rape me anyway you want. I´m a slave for you. I´m whatever you want me to be. Just fuck me. Squeeze my breasts and suck me that way you always make me cum. I´ll cum for for you, over and over again, just the thinking about your dick inside me makes me shiver. Your voice...gosh, now it´s the sexiest memory ever. Slip down my panties, I want to feel you inside me. I need to get your hands all over me and smell your chic parfum, so I´ll know I wasn´t dreaming.
 Enough with the dreaming, it´s time for some action. I want you to fuck me in the dirtiest way you know or you could even imagine, and fuck, that feels so good..! Hit me once, twice, harder : I wanna make you scream. Put your fingers and your cock inside me, fill me up as only you can. I´m yours to take, I´m taken. I´m a fucking idiot, but still a good fuck.
 he slid his fingers inside my pussy, his cock was all up in my ass. Harder, I´d scream, harder he´d go. As a bitch I was being fucked, filled, screwed out all my morals and shame.

He was choking me with his dick and stretching my asshole with his fingers while french kissing my pussy deeply. I was drooling all over his cock, licking his balls, caressing his asshole with the tip of my tongue, I wanted to swallow him whole. He was sucking my clit, finger fucking me both holes, I had his dick held in between my tits while my lips moved around its head. He came all over me in a hot shot to my face, so fucking delicious that made me cum in his mouth too.


In and out, his fingers slowly moved inside me after the shockwave. I'd kiss his softened cock as a caress before turning downside up to see his face. Eyes and lips closed, one arm up, head to the side, he seemed to be dead tired, about to sleep. The black tattoos contrasting with the white skin, the messy hair all over the pillow, he was a rebel angel in Morpheus arms. The fallen prince that came to my life to show me every little piece of bittersweet we can get from this existence.

In times like these, it's hard to believe he's nothing but a figment of my imagination.

Mind Control

I was fucking around online and I found this interesting discussion: "does mind control works on people who actually thinks?". It got me thinking for a while.

Point is: what is a person who "thinks" ? Is it someone who questions? Someone who stands for something? Because fact is that the world is full of people who thinks differently in the same way. Are they thinking at all?

To make a long philosophy short: maybe mind control only doesn´t work with people whose mind doesn't fit in any standards. Because you can reprogram any point of view that´s already set. You can changed any formed opinions and mess up anything that you can figure out - but who can control a mind that works in unique ways? How can you fix a system that you have no idea how it works?
Any mind is controlable, but the crazy ones.

 That's my theory. And my hope.

What a life..!

Wake up. Jogging. Shower. Office. Drink coffee. Write. Drink water. Take a piss. Smoke. Drink water. Write. Drink water. Take a piss. Write. Drink water. Smoke. Write. Eat a sandwich. Smoke. Drink water. Write. Take a piss. Drink coffee. Write. Drink water. Smoke. Write. Take a piss. Write. Drink water. Write. Write. Write. Drink coffee. Smoke. Take a piss. Write. Drink water. Write. Write. Drink water. Smoke. Take a piss. Home. Write. Sleep.

No wonder I'm depressed.

A flick of imaginary love

Finally home, dead tired. Still filled with emotions I can't really figure out. Bad impressions of myself, my life, my world.  I look at the empty bed, to where he's supposed to be.

-I'm here - his voice came to me. I could feel the soft touch of his skin in mine. Guided by the lighthouse of his eyes I could find the taste of his lips. Hot as the summer should be, we embraced in silence. Instead of burning in desire, my heart was filled with the most tender peace I´ve ever felt.

And suddenly that was all that I needed.

Smells like disillusion

Something's terribly wrong. I dunno if it's me or the world, problem is that the more I think it's the world, the worse I feel about me. I may be grumpy and irritable sometimes, but I'm hardly a depressive person. But that's pretty much how I am feeling right now. Sad, as if suddenly all the hope had been ripped off my heart. As if I would never be happy again. I look at the future and I can actually see it, but for the first time in my life it doesn´t seem so bright and appealing.

Feel like I just knew I already went through all the golden moments of my life. As if I just knew I already ran out of joyful occasions in this existence.

Today when I was leaving work, I knew a big fire burnt something like 200 shacks of a shantytown close to where I live. Lives changed drastically today. I can still smell the broken dreams, the hopes, the pain and delight of the way more than thousand people who lost everything.

Did I lose something too..?

My soul is tired. But it will be hard to sleep tonight.

Been singing this in my mind all day...

Kickass Party

Last night I went to a kids birthday party. I love it, because it usually means a lot of tasty trash like hot dogs, popcorn, chicken balls, looooooooooooots of candy and hardly any bothering drunk adults listening to shitty music and embarassing themselves. If at a children´s party they think it´s shameful to pose for a picture with Cinderella, they should see them doing the macarena at the office´s happy hour.

The invitation said that we could go wearing costumes. I don´t remember reading that applies just to the kids, so I wanted to wear one too, but my Batman nightgown was at the laundry, and I don't think a sexy nurse would fit the occasion, so I just worn a regular grey and white dress and my leather jacket, but still my daughter would say I was dressed as a cave woman ( I guess it was because of the dress patterns that looked bit as stone, bit as animal print ). To my niece, I was one of the Monster High characters. Great, for the girls I was a pre historic living dead. With a full filled breastline. But still didn't catch the eyes of the prince, who only danced with Cinderella.

My 5 yro daughter, however, think she´s got the catch of the night: instead of hanging around with Tinkerbell, Rapunzel and the other princesses, she was playing Guitar Hero with Flynn Rider. The little spanish gipsy and a Disney thief. Should had filmed that, hopefully someone did.

And now that the fairytale is done, it´s time for Monday..

She did say that:

"Men who have pierced ears are better prepared for marriage. They've experienced pain and bought jewelry."