Bit lonely

I'd like to be hugged tonite. No sex, just cuddling. Watching a movie (or a TV series..!), or even just to lay there, eyes closed, listening to his heartbeat.
I love that. So close, so true.

Naturally

The water felt a little bit cold at first, but I knew that the faster I got in, the better it would feel.The sun
was striving to shine through the forest, turning the leaves even greener and making that giant blue butterfly wings to flash.

I felt like taking my bikini off. I knew I couldn't. Maybe I shouldn't. But it was my dream, I could do whatever I wanted. I got naked and went swimming to below the waterfall, where you were enjoying the pleasures of natural water running through your body.
I standed up un the stone and you saw me naked. You took your shorts off and embraced me. The cold water falling through our hot bodies, I could feel your heartbeat.

You were holding my breasts with your hands, softly squeezing them. It felt great.
Yes, I was getting wet and ready for action, but at the same time I was so relaxed and feeling great that I just wanted to enjoy that sexy touching forever.

We sitted down at the stones by the waterfall, where the caresses continued.We were just kissing, I was sitted on your lap, hugging him with mt arms and my legs. I could feel your cock soaked on my moisture, I felt little shocks everytime I touched your skin with my hard, swollen clit.
And you started sucking my breasts. Gently, but firmly.

Ah, I really was urging to sit on that dick, and ride it up and down so hard I would feel its tip coming out my
throat...But I was totally surrendered to the physichal sensation of your lips sucking hard on my nipples. The
vision of it was even more endearing: you are so delightfully cute. And sexy.

We laid down  with me on top, my legs crossed around your neck while you french kissed my pussy. Your cock was full and tasteful while I felt it throught my mouth and deep down to my throat. Slowly. It was so intense. There was no hurry, no urge to cum. I could drool on that cock for hours, just for the taste of it, and the sound of your moaning.

Your tongue was soft and warm, and you were licking me passionately. Sometimes tickling the most sensitive spots, sometimes going deep inside. That's when my moaning becomes a loud sigh, and I feel like begging you to never stop. To go rougher. To shove me your long fingers, fist me to scream, spit on my asshole and let me craving for being merciless impaled. But real torture took form of a irresistible caress. Eyes closed, I take your cock as an indecent pacifier, sucking its head in fast and gentle movements that truly and strangely calms my lust down. My body relaxes:  you feel it too and also let go on the pressure of your hand holding my leg. My juice was flowing to your thirsty lips still not quenched.

Slower and deeper now, up and down your rock hard cock, feeling every milimeter to pulse inside my mouth. Some cold water spray from the waterfall made me shiver, and the feeling of my arousing skin drove me to the edge of an orgasm  that I struggled to hold back.

The sounds of nature and that overwhelming feeling was just so empowering. That was divine. I was a goddess kneeling down to devour you, looking straight into your eyes while having you whole in my mouth. A hot, hard, pulsating member I was sucking in urge, filling it up. Your panting excites me. I go harder, hungrier, anxious to be fed by your cum. I knew it wouldn't be long now, I could feel it and hear it from your breathing, your growing roar, your feverish hands pulling my hair back.


One piercing looks into your eyes, and your dilated pupils were fixed on me. Mesmerized, hypnotized - you
couldn't dare to close it while drowning my lust into your hot load. You were just staring as I had your whole cock shoved up in my mouth, a drop of cum rolling down the corner of my lips, dripping on my breasts.
The strenght of the aftershocks made you bend your body down and you kissed my smeared lips with passion and cumplicity. We were one.

With the Nature.

Useless & indecent

A friend told me that there is some relation between the size of a guy's hand and the size of his penis.

Of course I don't believe it, but thinking carefully, there is a possibility, yes, that the guy with the biggest penis I've ever had sex with, is also the guy with the biggest hands.

On the other hand (!!) my first boyfriend had a dick, like 6-8 cm, but he had pretty normal hands. Not a T-rex.

What the f*ck am I writing..?

Reading these posts in retrospect, it gets obvious that I have a pretty disturbed sexuality: I've found a handful of posts that starts with "I won't be writing about sex this time", but most of them ends up about something dirty. It's the only way I communicate openly and in english to the whole world online, and that's how I present myself to the people: as a psycho bitch. Yeah, great, that's quite a wonderful impression to make.

On the other hand, I don't think I'm actually being a bitch. I'm talking about sex - everybody does, and I'm writing my fantasies - everybody has. Come on, not having an appetite for sex at all , that's sure rather more disturbing :D. Probably my conceptions about sex are the healthiest part of my delicate psiqué. :3 My total lack of social graces with strangers is far more shocking than my deepthroat techniques.

 I'm quite sure that by the time I write this, chances are that only one among all the people that ever read these lines, can actually say he knows about my techniques. Although I can also pretty much asure all the other readers, that  this guy doesn't know much about how uncomfortable I sometimes feel, since he's quite easy person to go along with.

Anyway, that's the fate of most things I write, I guess. It's the price to pay for writing my mind and heart all the time: Few years from now I'll read this again and think "Gosh, what the f*ck was I thinking..?"

Just being me

So, I'm back. Did anyone miss me? Yeah, I figured so...

You see, lately I've had time enough to write a lot. And in fact, I've been doing so, just not here on the blog. I dunno why, but I always have this impression I should write something sexy here. So, whenever I'm not feeling sexy, I don't feel like posting.

But I noticed that if I do that, this blog will be soon abandoned...

I haven't been having any sex lately, of course. But I made a promise I would stop counting days or anything as stupid as this. Makes me sound desperate to others, and a complete dumbfuck to myself. And this hurts.

And, you know what? I'm not an eager nympho, ok. In fact, I'm not even that hot: truth is that I'm a f*cking lousy lay... But at least my writing is pretty decent and I like porn very much :3. Not that "Fifty Shades" stuff. A little bit more spice, with some more plausible story as a background. "Naughty bedtime stories for wet dreams" or something like that. Something you'd like your girl to read to you, wank to, and fall asleep. Maybe I should record an erotic audiobook. With sexy background tracks as my voice keeps reading my very true and personal fantasies...

Sounds sexy, but I don't think so. I'm just too shy, I'd probably laugh. Booo hooo, that's the truth about sexy Hamalka. A hoax from the hair colour to the toe nailpolish.

Or not. It might work, too. We can go to the studio late at night, for the recordings. I'll make the readings sitting on your lap. You'll keep me focused in being sexy, and I might not mind sounding a little bit panting on the tracks... I can't really play any instruments, but I do move my hips without skipping the beat. I guess I could sound sexy enough if I had this kind of motivation while reading the stories. Nothing that would drive me out of focus, just a gentle touch of your fingers, your tongue caressing deep inside me, slowly...just to give me that feeling I want to impersonate when describing all that naughty scenes I sometimes imagine...

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Here I am, talking about sex again, afterall. Maybe I'm an eager nympho indeed. Or at least a wannabe bitch with a way with words. We're living on a social media world, where we're nothing but avatars of what we want people to believe we are.

I am Hamalka. Not a real person, but still quite a character. ;)

Second light

I didn't have to open my eyes: the smell of his perfume was all over me, as his warm body spooned to mine. I reached for his big hands and could feel his fingers embracing mine one by one. His heartbeat echoes on my breathing, our rythms in sync: I was smiling, and although I couldn't see, I knew he was smiling, too.

That wasn't a dream, a lonely romance, a dirty talk fantasy.

 It was there, it was real.

The dream begins again

I'm off to be happy a little.
Or too much.
For a while or forever.

Wet Threat

I opened my eyes at once. Was I late? Not a sound from outside, it seemed it was still dark. I searched for my cell phone: 4:35 a.m. Closed my eyes, but I was wide awake.

Just because, I started to rescue the dream I was into, moments before. I don't remember where I was, or what I was doing. But I was with him, for sure. I could feel his presence still, hear the sound of his laugh. One innocent moment, than suddenly turned into some hot action. I was laid upon him, sucking him deep while feeling his tongue and fingers inside me. I smiled at the way he curls his toes as his cock gets filled, moaning higher, closer to explosion. In moments like this, his movements on me slow down a bit, and then is when I may expect a furious attack in following.

He was practically fisting me, slapping and biting my buttcheeks while I was choking myself on his dick, drooling all over his hips and rising mine as if taming a wild animal to fuck me. We were measuring forces, he is bigger, but I was taken by a hunger that could shoot a missile.  He locked me up under his body, and would go in dry, if I wasn't already dripping wet. 

He screamed when I trapped his cock inside my pussy. Even slippery as I was, I could still hold him firmly.  One of my hands got free to grab his crotch while he struggled to go out and in again. We were both panting. He pulled my hair back, savagely kissing my neck. I pressed my hips against him. "Give me all your load...Flood my brains with your hot cum..." I was talking more nonsense than actually dirty talking by the time I felt the head of his dick pulsating feverish inside me, and reached a firework-worthy orgasm at the same time than him. Needless to say I couldn't keep a single drop inside me: his cum and my juice flowed freely all down my legs, staining the sheets.

And only then I noticed I was still in my bed, and that wet sensation was only mine. Got up with a smile for the morning toiletry, while my tablet computer was initializing for me to check the appointments for today. A message alarm beeped:

-"Btw, you have no idea how hard you're going to get fucked..."

Bring it hot, baby, for I'm already on fire...

Ok...

Maybe I'm a "bit" of a nerd...But isn't "Paul" one of the most touching movies ever?

:D

Best Investment Ever

Miss Taken

I've been losing a lot of friends lately. Or in fact, I haven't been losing anything, only realizing some people were not actually my friends, as I thought so, sometimes for so long.

Yeah, I wrote this before in this very blog, how much it's disappointing to me to notice some of the guys I really had as friends were actually just "waiting in line" to make a move on me. What I could even take as flattering, actually, if they didn't get angry or pushy when at some point I feel forced to make clear that nothing is going to happen - in a very harsh way.

And the weirdest part is that no one of these guys I'm referring to, are the ones who openly comes to me with a direct line like, when I ask "what are your plans for the weekend?" and he answers "Sex with you!". Nah. To those, I usually fight back with a "Go dreaming!", we both laugh, and sometimes meet for a beer or sushi, great conversation and that's all.

On the other hand, there are those guys that had never showed any interest, whom I really though were pretty much only my friends. Good friends, in fact. Ones who would go out shopping with me. Who would discuss movies, philosophy or sports with me for hours. Then, at some point, out of nothing, the guy comes with a pick up line. After being sure he's not joking, then I kindly - very kindly, as it's always so delicate in situations like this - try to explain it's not going to happen.  What is also hard to me, because these guys usually already know I'm taken, so I never expect this... And they go out swearing on me, threatening me the most ridiculous ways like "Don't you forget there are nicer girls around...thinner and, most of all, younger!". This one I got just last week.

What can I do but laugh and be grateful for "ruining my chances" with these kind of guys...?

Really: Am I too stupid, too naive, or just a real unconscious bitch?

Day #12 (or #322) : Hammy's Advice

Don't "Google" for things you don't want to find.

Day #18 : "I no longer expect anything from life"

That was the first thing I read from the Facebook today.
How encouraging.

Surprise party

I knew he would come.

I had everything set: the table, the music, the candlelight. Two bottles of the best soft red wine I could find. With the brand new lacey lingerie and petals of three dozen red roses, it costed a little fortune,and the night would be worth every penny spent. Some things in life are just priceless.

Sitting on the couch, I opened the first bottle, still alone. That fancy beverage caressed my lips and went down like heaven, while I spreaded my legs and my whole body all over the silky mantle of my robe. That vulgar shade of pink contrasting with the black lace, all so deliciously provoking, so purposely indecent, as the panties small enough to show the tanned borders of my bikini line.

I could almost feel his hands on me already, holding my head up and kissing me deeply while I'd press my body against his, feeling his increasing heartbeat, his heavy breathing that was slowly growing into moanings. I can feel the warm tide coming down in between my legs.

The music is a bit louder now: it's the perfect track. I make him sit, serve him the wine he already tasted on my lips. I invite him to sit back and relax while I dance for him. Slowly, languidly, closer and closer so he could touch my skin and smell my perfum. On the floor, I crawl to him. Climb to his lap, then turn my back to be slapped in my butt cheeks as I knew he would. I keep the rythm on my hips, dancing as if he wasn't pulling my panties, squeezing my thighs.

I take my leg up to his shoulder, he takes off my heels and kissed my ankles before pulling me closer. Now I got him right on my spot and he's teasing my pussy with his tongue from over my lingerie. "I can taste you, you're soaked wet". A teasing smile is my answer. Put my leg down, sit upon him, my hands to his hair and pulling his head back as the lap dance begins. He takes off my bra and begins to suck my nipples. I feel his hard on against my clit, and the growing frenzy will make me cum for the first time that night even before I can taste his juicy cock.

Suddenly, the doorbell brings me back to reality. I stop playing with myself, take the last sip of my wine and a quick look in the mirror. Put on my most seductive smile and head to the door.

With my luck, it must be the pizza guy.

...why can't I just fuckin die at once???????????????????????????

Faith in men-kind: restored

Okay, I didn't have a very nice day. Didn't sleep, couldn't make it to the gym, the Internet was unstable, the TV wasn't working, riots closed half the city, I couldn't fulfill all the tasks I had for today, and my stepsister is very sick...

In the evening I was tired and in a terrible bad mood, but a brief conversation about love enlightened my night. Nothing much, I just asked a friend if he believed in love. Just because, since instants before we were joking about sex and relationships, and occured me that we were always making the same jokes, but never talked seriously about it. So I asked, and his simple, sincere answer warmed my heart.

Maybe there is still hope for the ones like us. Maybe there are still fairtales to be told, afterall...because reading his answer I noticed that, yes, there is still people in this world who deserves to be happy.

I hope I can be one of them, too...Someday...somehow...

Tonight I'll dream in Red again. Hopefully soon, I'll be waking up in his so-dreamed arms...

Haunted

Again. The same nightmare wakes me up.
I turn the now empty pages I read so many times: where are the words that for so long warmed my heart, the fire that would always light up my life when everything else seemed to be burnt to ashes..? Where were the lines I followed over and over, out loud and in silence, a manthra to remind me how life could still be fine..?

Desperately I search for the book I never wrote, just to find two hundred blank pages inside a rotting cover, faded colors, half-eaten by moths and stained by dust.

Outside, the heavy rain bangs on my window, the thunder rolls louder than the void of the streets. Still I can hear my own heartbeat. Reality calls, I'm still alive, maybe it wasn't just a nightmare.

Close my eyes. I'm not safe in a dream.

"You were never there..." - it whispers, and vanishes.

And I know dawn will find me crying.

Time to say goodbye

Few things are as weird as watching a life ending.

He was a newborn when I met him. 15 days or so. I immediately fell in love for that little fellow. I never thought by then, that I'd watch him die, over 18 years later. Slowly. He fought to the very last minute - even his breathing stopped minutes before his heart. In 18 years, he never got sick. Not once.
I have this impression that on his last days, he was suffering more because his body wasn't responding to his still strong wills. His legs were so weak he could barely walk, he was practically dragging himself - but he would still try to run after me. It was almost funny how his eyes were so full of life to his last day - that happened to be today.

No, he didn't go peacefully in his sleep as we would like to. He struggled, and this morning we knew he probably wouldn't make it to another dawn. Last night he walked for the last time, then laid on the corner he stayed to his last breathe. Spent all day there, an empty expression, no reaction. Ate a bit, drank a bit. His wide open eyes were still shining. He seemed to be daydreaming. Maybe he was already having a glimpse of the other side of the rainbow bridge.

I knew he would find his last sleep before I go to bed tonight.

He wasn't just a dog, he was a furry angel that stole a piece of my heart by the minute I first saw him.

And took it to heaven with him tonight.

Scene from Don Bluth's "All Dogs Go To Heaven", one of my favourite cartoon movies ever.

Sex machine

I started going to cardio classes this week. Of course I know three weeks won't turn me into any goddess of fitness, but at least I'll feel I'm a little bit more fit to face this new beginning (again). Yeah, it seems that my life is always beginning again. Imagine how many dramatic ends it takes...

So, I was coming from the shower, wet, warm and scented, when I walked past the mirror. I stopped for a moment and let the towel hit the floor, taking a good, deep, critical look to what I was seeing on the reflex. I don't have what I would call a "killer body" myself. I don't have boobs as big as I'd like to. I don't have an ass as round as I'd like to. I don't have a waist as small as I'd like too, hair and legs as long as I'd like to, belly as flat as I'd like to.

But you wanna know what..? I bet some of those girls who do have a "killer body" would just DIE to really enjoy all the pleasures I allow my imperfect body to give and receive... And the overwhelming orgasms it eventually results into.

I might be unsecure of my looks, but I'm pretty confident about my performance: I go for what I like...and I like it all the way.

Who's counting the cellulitis, while busy moaning in pleasure..?

Loosen my mind

Okay, now it's official: this blog totally lost its purpose. Or it was me: I completely lost directions. fact is it was supposed to be fun, angry, sexy and quite ficticious. But lately it haven't been much of any of those.

Earlier today, a friend who is also a great student of astrology pointed something funny at my astrological chart: all planets are pretty much gathered  together in a 120 degrees range or so. This meaning I can concentrate, in this life, on less things than average, and thus living those things in a much more intense way.

I had never thought about that, really. I do am an intense person. I'm passionate about everything I'm passionate about, I have no shallow feelings about anything that really touches me. I just don't care about things and people that don't. I guess I don't even notice them. and it's not like I'm mean or selfish...I just don't like to waste time or heart. Life's too short.

I can love one, or I can throw one out of my life forever. I prefer not to hate, maybe because the much I can love makes me afraid of the much I could hate. So, whenever I don't like something or someone, I'll just try my best to avoid it. When I can't, this means I also can't ignore the bad feelings it inspires me. It's hard, and sometimes way too painful, but I try to deal with it.

I'm not of one night stands, I'm not of mild datings. I can do them, but what for? Even the memories of my most overwhelming encounters are most impressive than these sometimes empty moments. Like big Donuts that will please my senses for a while and then turn into nothing, if not regret, in the moments next.

I like to be swallowed by this thrill, this will of shouting the whole world what's  in my heart. That's precisely why i got online here at the first place. To write the sweetest love declaration I could...

...if only I could reach him. If only I could touch him. If only I could feel he can read between the lines, inside my heart, how much it's obvious that I love him.

More than anything, ever.