Visceral Lit











{July 16, 2007}   Pria’s New Toy pt. 2

I promised you all the full story of my newest toy. It’s a bit late in coming, I’ve been very bad about my updates lately but I hope you can forgive me when you hear just how the experiment went.

As my more faithful readers know, I had long fantasized about the opportunity to strap one on and have my way with a willing lover, to feel, if only as a pale simulation, the power and intensity of being the one who fucks rather than the one who is fucked.

That night I prepared in secret, a long shower and shave, paying attention to all my bits and peices. I made up the bed and loaded up my cock with batteries. I placed my favourite lube close at hand and with a sly and knowing smile. I led my lover into our bedroom.

It seemed appropriate that I take control of the situation, perhaps my now vibrating cock gave me that drive, dampening my essential submissiveness and bringing out a new Pria, a Pria who took control of her sex.

Slowly, my mouth entwined with his, I lowered my lover to the bed, running my hands over his body, a firm touch massaging and gripping at each opportunity. I ran my tongue seductively across his lips and smiled as his dick twitched and grew, standing just a bit further out from his thighs.

I slid into the harness as I took turns nibbling at each of his erect nipples, flickering my tongue down his chest while I slipped the thick end of the double dildo into me and turned the dial for a low level of vibration. The sensation spread through my body like a flash flood, drawing my head back and a surprised cry from my throat.

My lover grinned and grabbed behind my head, reasserting a masculine control as he drew his warming cock along my torso, watching my face as it struggled to regain the composure the sudden sensation had robbed from it. My thighs and abdomen trembled as his smooth, stiffening head brushed lightly against my lips.

My tongue approached slowly, lips parting over it not with reluctance but slowly still. Teasing, I drew back, my lower lip pulling away from my teeth, caught momentarily on the ridge at the top of his growing shaft. A hand adjusted the base of my new dick, pressing it against my clit, thrusting the penetrative end deeper inside me. This time I swallowed hard, blinking back my building lust and containing the urge to let this man take me.

aristotle and phyllis

Lube warmed in my hands as I spread it over the tapered head, down to the base and back up again. Gently I probed at his opening, curling my spine, catlike to flicker my tongue over his straining penis. He gasped and thrust to feel the vibrations against him and his ass opened up to penetration

.

Frantically I sucked at licked at what parts of his throbbing, thrusting member I could reach, gently guiding my cock further and further against his insistent grinding. His breaths were short and shallow and I took a moment to trail my tongue over his exposed throat, feeling the vibrations of his ecstatic moans. My hands were on his body, grasping and stroking. Palms pressed to his hips, I pulled him against me as he often pulled me against him, relishing the feeling of my own hipbones pressing into quivering thighs.

Suddenly he pulled away, grasping at his dick and stroking it furiously as he turned over and raised his hips to me invitingly. I pulled up to my knees and entered him again, this time from behind, reaching one arm around to grasp at his cock; to stroke it inversely with each thrust of my hips.

I flattened my other hand against his tailbone, the soft rise of his buttocks providing ample leverage. As I stroked the base of his cock, his own hand ran feverishly over the tip. His face rested, turned to one side against our pillows, pink cheeked, mouth slightly agape, eyes squeezed shut in a rictus of pure pleasure. The sound which escaped his throat teetered back and forth between gasps and moans as he slammed his ass against my hips, over and over again.

As my own pleasure built, egged on by the vibrations which filled my dripping cunt, my hands wandered, grasping at handfuls of him at a time, then wandering up my own abdomen to squeeze my breasts, tease the nipples, tickle my engorged clitoris and then return to his enormously erect penis.

When he came, I caught the spray in my palm, wave after wave of his pleasure filling my hand. I gently rubbed the tip, drawing out his orgasm as my other hand attacked my clit, inciting cries of lust from my throat.

Slowly I slid from him and collapsed on my back, my new toy standing straight out from my abdomen, rising and falling with my heaving breaths. I turned off the vibrations and turned to look at my lover. His face showed awe and his eyes sparkled. We kissed.



{June 5, 2007}   Pria’s new toy

Perhaps I’m outing myself as a strange beast, or perhaps I’m voicing words that have been thought by millions of women before me, but I’ve always wondered what it would be like to have a cock.

I don’t think I’d want one for good. I love my pussy, she’s soft and beautiful and very, very good to me when I treat her right. All the same, I do wonder what it’s like to have this excitable extension of my sex right out there where I could grab it, squeeze it, coax it into life and bring from it the kind of pleasure that the other half experiences as a matter of course.

Minutes ago, I strapped on a cock and gave it a test drive.

I requested from Eden Fantasys a strap on that included a vaginal attatchment. After all, my rubber cock wouldn’t have nerve endings of its own and so stimulating it had better stimulate the nerve endings I did have.

I had company last night, and alas, not the sort who would be amenable to helping me to explore my new toy. It took all my patience to wait for the moment when I could first insert the plug and get to business with my very own dick.

I changed position many times before finding the one that worked. One hand between my legs, rhythmically pressing the plug into my swiftly moistening cunt, I lubed the other one up and stroked the shaft. I had to be quite vigorous with my cock, it was the only way I could get it to respond, to get the base to press and release against my lips.

I reached under the harness and spread my lips wide, my clit aching for a share of the pressure and adjusted my strokes to include a grind on the downstroke. Soon I had worked myself into a lather, beads of sweat appearing on my face and breasts as I watched my hand move rapidly up and down in rythm with my building pleasure.

I rarely make a noise when I service myself, but this time I cried out as I came, the psychology of a fantasy attempted carrying me where a typical wank never could.

I am still without batteries for the vibrator function, but rest assured that when I get the opportunity to give it another spin, you will be first to know about it.

XxX,
Pria



{May 21, 2007}   Productive

It’s been a while, readers. My sincerest apologies.

Recently, Eden Fantasys sent me quite an impressive pair of leather bondage cuffs to review. I only wish I could have taken them to a party, and really given them a true testing. Alas, I had to settle for some bedroom bondage.

The concierge stopped me on my way out the door. “There’s a package here for you, Ms. Sythes” I could have taken the package upstairs and saved it for later, but I’m impatient, impulsive.

I was on the train when I opened them. I tore the tape off the package like an eager child tearing open a long-awaited birthday present. Underneath a layer of bubble wrap was a plastic package, emblazoned with a rather juicy photo. The man in the photo, his lean muscular form gleaming, looked at me intensely through bedroom eyes as he strained against his bindings.

I glanced furtively around the car. How could I wait? I was already beginning to feel just a bit excited. Imagining the scenarios in which I might make use of the contents. Across from me was a well dressed middle aged man with white hair. He noticed me looking at him and there must have been something in my eyes, because he cleared his throat and returned to his newspaper, industriously rearranging the pages.

To my left sat an unabashedly lesbian couple, their sign language conversation punctuated with small giggles here and there. Perhaps they were on a first date. The longing in their eyes seemed fresh, to glow with that excitement of new discovery. I could imagine them later, lightly brushing one another’s bodies with their fingertips, the redhead’s lips parting slightly as her new, more butch companion lightly trailed a finger down the rise of her breast, curling it as it approached a firm, pert nipple. In my imagination, her lips and her nipple were the same deep shade of pink, flushed with excitement. Her green eyes standing out from her face, in sharp, perfect contrast to the pinkness that rose in her cheeks.

Unable to bear it, the redhead reached a dainty hand, nimble from years of signing and confidently slid it past the top of her friend’s jeans, finding a bare abdomen and a dampness that radiated heat. Her partner’s hands flexed and pulled slightly away from her body then grasped hard at her breasts with a gasp as she swiftly slid her fingers deep inside, laying her thumb atop an engorged button. Those red lips, that so perfectly matched those perfectly rounded nipples, wrapped around a slackened lower lip, sucking it in and nibbling her way up into a deep kiss.

Gently pinching, those graceful hands slowly began to stroke up and down the tiny shaft and over the top, massaging through the hood and curling her long fingers toward her new lover’s G-spot. Pressing her own lips against her partner’s thigh, she moved her mouth, trailing her tongue down towards soft breasts.

The dark haired woman moaned and arched her neck, her hands shifting to rest on round, white buttocks. She leaned back, to support herself against a wall and raised her knee into the softness she found there. The sensation of soft, moistening skin against her thigh urged her forth. Pulling at her date’s ass, she slowly flexed her musles, hardening her thigh and parting lips to rub the growing bud between.

Her orgasm came all at once and one high pitched cry after another pierced the silence. As her body relaxed, she slid down to return her partner’s generosity.

Flattening her hand against the red lips between smooth, soft thighs, she rubbed around to penetrate a satiny sheath. She extended the tip of her tongue and flicked at the swollen knob once, twice and then withdrew. She studied her girlfriend’s cunt a moment, spreading it to take in each crevace and then allowing it to close, slowly. Pointing her tongue, she licked up and then down between two rises of her lover’s outer labia, just barely reaching the silky skin underneath. Her upper lip followed, its dry softness contrasting the intense sensation preceding it.

She had taken the dainty redhead for a soft touch, but hands materialized at the back of her head, tugging her mouth suggestively closer, straining hips upward with a moan.

She grasped the clit lightly between her teeth and attacked anew, enveloping her lover, mouth filled with fragrant sex. She slid a firm tongue inside and flickered toward the front wall as her lips tightened, sucking noisily. She slid a hand down to her own pussy, suddenly eager for more. They came at once, bodies arching in unison and as her mouth filled with her lover’s pleasure, the butch reached up with both hands to draw it out, to rub and coax and bring forth another and another and another, enjoying, viscerally her lover’s repeated panting cries.

Before I knew it, the package containing my cuffs was open and I was furtively rolling up my pants leg, lifting my ankle to affix one there. I would surprise my date. When the night became quiet and we were alone, my evening’s companion would find me ready to be bound.

The man across the car studied his newspaper as I buckled first the left and then the right cuff. Cinching them as tight as they would go and rolling my jeans back down. When I looked up, the femme was looking at me, wide-eyed. She signed something to her girlfriend and the girlfriend’s intrigued gaze fell on me. We locked eyes and I smiled coyly. Furiously the redhead signed. Lascivious laughter; and then comfort fell back between them, their suggestive caresses becoming all the more propulsive, leading them closer to the evening I had so secretly planned for them.

My evening was about to start and I couldn’t wait to see to what heights it would bring me.



{May 10, 2007}   Why she stayed

Andalee slammed the phone into its cradle, frustrated. Three times in a row, now. Three times he’d cancelled at the last minute. How long was she going to put up with this shit? She’d convinced herself weeks ago that she didn’t need him. That his bullshit wasn’t worth the sex.

It was such good sex though – Her mind wandered to the last time they’d been together, his sinewy hands fimly wrapped around her hips, fingertips leaving small imprints in her flesh, her hipbones grasped for leverage as he slammed himself inside her.

Her face flushed a bit to think about it and her hand creeped, almost of its own volition, towards the band of her panties. It was hot in this room. Hot outside.

Her eyes fluttered when she thought of the way his old ties had been recommissioned, to bind her hands over her head. Fastened to the headboard, face down, knees spread firmly, with command. Her clit yearning for pleasure, her pussy filled with him. The vague pain that mingled with the pleasure as he reached the base of his own cock and still strained for deeper penetration.

She gasped as she remembered the feeling of his hair, brushing against her back as he lowered himself to grasp a mouthful of flesh between his teeth, his right hand swinging out to lay down an imprint on her ass. Her body jerked in reaction and he grasped her hips again, firmly pulling them back into position over his cock.


The pictures unfolded behind her eyes as she struggled for the surety she’d had only moments before. His lips and eyes flashed across her mind and she gave up the struggle. Vigorously, she attacked her cunt.

Her left hand flew up and down, applying just the slightest pressure on her clit, her less dexterous (or should I say less sinister?) right hand curling up underneath her, striving for something approaching the depth of penetration he could acheive for her.

Kicking the sheets and blanket down to the end of her bed, she curled them around her feet, creating a sensation of being bound. She moaned under her gasping, shuddering breaths as she pictured his lips enveloping her breasts, sucking the nipples in and biting down hard.

How bad she’d been, doubting him, expecting him to adapt to the schedule of her clamouring libido. He was withdrawing the pleasure now. Leaving her trembling in anticipation, in frustrated desire.

She panted at the idea of his cock, dripping with her sex, and his demands that she finish him with her mouth. Her fingers crept up her chin and she sucked the juices off them, her other hand pinching her engorged lips together, punishing them for their presumption.

She could practically taste his orgasm shooting to the back of her throat as she let go suddenly of her pussy, the blood rushing painfully back into it, bringing with it her own climax, an excruciating pleasure which extracted a cry from her throat.

If he did it again, though, she was through.



{May 8, 2007}   Fucking Fiction

Motion sensing security lights flicker on as we pass a graffitti-slathered wall. Bright colours, fine art in an alleyway, urban culture expressed through bold strokes. The tagging detracts from the art and I find myself angry at the defacement of a painting. Incensed that this gallery of unauthorized art is considered no better than adolescent ink excretions, primate territorial markings akin to chimpanzee shit-slinging or a canine who lifts its leg every half block to sprinkle another surface with urine.

The quickening dusk makes my companion’s features virtually indistinguishable. I stare into facelessness as a strong hand reaches around the small of my back and guides me towards one of the walls. Soon, my shoulders are pressed against it. The texture of the brick is translated through a thin summer shirt. A deep rumble in the distance echoes a building libido as a hand works its way down my torso.

My breath catches, just a bit, as a single fingertip lightly brushes the outside of my thigh. Scarcely making contact with skin, the finger slowly lifts the hem of my skirt. Denim rises to meet the thin fabric of my underpants, rapidly dampening without the help of the scattered raindrops which are beginning to fall onto us; around us. A flash of lightening illuminates my partner’s face, reflecting most strongly off spots where the rain has caught in his hair, or runs down the sides of his cheeks. I watch, transfixed as lips approach mine, a single drop clinging to the upper one.

I meet them with mine, sucking the water off, chasing my lips with my tongue, thirstily drinking the rain which now begins to stream down our faces. A crack of thunder prompts a gasp of breath and a thrust of my hips. Breathing becomes labored as I struggle with wet denim and leather. My underwear is gone, my skirt lifted and pressed between barely exposed abdomens. I wonder only briefly about its state, torn and crumpled in a gathering puddle at my feet.

Finally I free his cock, and feel it press against me, the heat of it cooled only momentarily by the rain. Strong hands press my shoulders into the brick. The storm has built now to its apex. Our gasps are muffled by the sound of water hitting pavement, the rumbles and cracks of thunder drowning out my quiet whimpers of pleasure. His cock moves up and down against my pussy, drawing me out, teasing me. I look along his arm, noticing the definition. Muscles standing out as he strains against me.

A hand grasps my thigh suddenly, lifting my leg, level with his waist and he enters me quickly, violently. My chest heaves and my head arches back as we fuck in the rain. Time is lost to the rythm of the rain, the rumble of the thunder, the sensation between my legs. An explosion of pleasure brings me back to myself. A slowing of rain and rythm, slick bodies moving apart, wet clothes clinging to glistening skin, the spot is abandoned.



{May 7, 2007}   Tie me up, Tie me down

Breath came raggedly to her. Her eyes bore into his with consummate intensity, the flecks of gold around the pupil flashing as she tilted her head to one side, arching her neck simply, pressing her breasts flat against his chest. He noted with satisfaction a flutter of her eyelids and watched as a bead of perspiration welled on her temple and then tumbled the short distance into rapidly dampening strands of hair.

She locked her eyes on his again and he sensed the surrender in them as she allowed her body to carry her away. He arched his own back and shuddered slightly as she drew him in. His head sank into her exposed neck, tasting salt upon contact with the slick skin. He ran his hands up her arms and over the rough hemp that bound her wrists. Her hips moved suddenly towards him, taking his breath away as his cock moved even deeper inside of her.

He moved his hands down her arms now and gathered her up, his fingers grasping her shoulders, pulling her down onto him. He realized dimly, through a haze of sensation that her deep, scarcely audible moans had risen in both pitch and volume and that his own lips allowed complementary utterances. Their bodies were moving more quickly now and he gathered up a mouthful of flesh and bit down on it as his cock swelled and stiffened urgently. Her cunt tightened around him in waves, ripples of electricity running from tip to base, timed with the treble of her distant sounds.

He let go of her neck, lightly brushing his lips over the dents left by his teeth, probing them with the tip of his tongue. His fingers slipped from her shoulders and he grasped her hips firmly as his body prepared for release. He felt her stiffen in his hands and released himself. She cried out as each throb pumped more of his pleasure into her. He looked down at her face, intensity on every line. Her breathing became deeper and also more rapid as her own peak hit. She fell silent as her body trembled under him and around him.



et cetera