Visceral Lit











{August 10, 2007}   Wank

This morning I thought of those of you, dear readers who are equipped with penises they love. The faceless man in the crowd who I sincerely hope springs to life when I press post. Who touches himself and perhaps coaxes his cock to twitch and spray.

I thought of your lips as they part, as you carry yourselves to greater heights. I thought of different hands on different cocks, some of you using two hands, some only one. I thought of the myriad of different ways I’ve already seen penises being pleasured by their most skilled masters and of the millions of more ways I haven’t yet watched.

I thought of your hips straining, the tendons standing out in your wrists, the tip of your cock emerging and submerging and I touched myself, too. Coaxing from my cunt no small handful of roller-coaster orgasms. I tugged at my clit and squeezed my eyes tight and pictured a variety of shapes, of sizes, of colours of cock, all bringing pleasure to those to whom they are attatched.

I thought of your orgasms and I cried out, abandoning all control with my last one, my hips collapsing exhausted into my chair.

I love writing for you.



{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



{June 2, 2007}   and a she makes three

I forgot how much firmer I was when I was young. Touching her now, I was surprised at the taut skin. Her breasts, full and round, rose to meet my hand and I sqeezed, gently testing the resistance. The skin yielded little but the woman’s lips parted, a flash of white teeth showing briefly between lips flushed and swollen with our kisses.

I was entranced by her face, spasms of pleasure distorting her smooth features as our partner’s mouth lightly fluttered over her labia. My hand crept to my own pulsing clit, wet already though it had not yet been touched tonight. I lowered my lips to the nipples which stretched toward me, never taking my eyes off her features.

Her throat expanded to allow a small sound, something between a moan and a cry which escaped her lips and was chased away by the glistening tip of her tongue. I ran the tips of my fingers over those lips, now pulling the lower one down slightly to meet my approaching kiss. My body slid over the sheets, drawing itself against hers to press my wetness against her thigh.

A small sound escaped the lips of the man between her legs and he grasped at his own cock, turning it towards me. Obligingly I slid my body down her leg, a trail of my juices tracing the friction of her smooth, tight skin against my clit. Locking my legs around his, I slid myself across his cock. It had grown huge, standing out as it had never before. It throbbed against me and burnt to the touch.

His lips broke free and he grasped her hips with muscular, sinewy hands to pull her with him as his body turned to accomodate me.

I knelt above him and continued my traverse along his trembling form. Settling my cunt against his ankle, I lightly trailed my hands over his abdomen and up the inside of his thighs. As his legs parted, his ankle drew up between my lips, pulling tightly against me and it was my turn to moan before plunging his cock deeply into my mouth.

She had settled on her knees and braced against the wall and now she ground herself against his furious, frolicking kisses.

His hands clasped over the blankets, gripping them tightly and taking up fistfuls of the bed as his body arched to our ministrations. They let go abruptly to feel up her body to her breasts. Feverish fingers trailed over her lips and then slid rapidly back down to her hole. Gently, slowly he pressed two inside as he turned his tongue to her swollen clit.

She cried out first and he tugged his cock out of my mouth as it twitched, threatening to explode down my throat. Gently he lay her down, lifting her legs as he trailed a taut torso over her breasts and then plunged himself inside her. I lay next to them, watching, spying, observing their bodies intertwined.

I bit my lip and my fingers tensed on my abdomen to see their embrace. The subtle shifts of their muscles as they strained against one another led a near painful warmth through my middle.

His hands on the back of her knees he pressed them back and he fucked her harder, looking deeply at me as my own knees spread to accommodate my venturing fingers. I watched, transfixed as his abdomen tensed with his thrusts. Suddenly there was another hand on my cunt and she murmerred my name as her fingers skillfully found their way between my lips.

A light touch, lighter than I might have touched myself, over each part of my pussy, pressure applied in just the right way and my eyes squeezed shut, my hands stretching over my head in a simulation of being bound. When my eyes opened again it was just in time to see his forarm moving across the back of her knee.

A cry came from my mouth as my eyes shut again. As his dick plunged in and out of her, he thrust two, then three fingers up my own writhing cunt, matching the rythm and pressure inside her. He arched his back and strained deeply into her, shouting as he emptied himself. His body twitched and pulsed with his orgasm and the hand in my cunt translated each wave of his pleasure.

I watched his body tremble and shake and my pussy throbbed for more. Grinding my hips against the hands that eagerly grasped, juices flowed and my orgasm came, through my pussy and through my mouth, wracking my body with each pulse. Spasms of pleasure brought with them smaller orgasms and I came again and again, coaxed and urged by tireless hands, both rough and masculine and tender and smooth.

He collapsed now atop us as our frantic breaths slowed and deepened and a layer of sweat separated our skin. As he eased his exhausted cock out of her, our hands delicately explored one another, taking the time to know the folds and crevices our lust had not yet had the patience to map.

I awoke once in the night, to find his head on my stomach, his arm across the soft curve of her hip and smiled at his peaceful face before drifting back into deep and contented slumber.



{May 29, 2007}   Sex and Loathing

Remember when you were more easily led,
Behind the cricket pavillion and the bicycle shed?
Trembling as your dreams came true,
You looked right into those blue eyes and knew.

Pet Shop Boys – Can You Forgive Her, 1993

He wasn’t particularly handsome. His face seemed stretched somehow sideways, his mouth too wide and his eyes a little further apart than average. He was unevenly freckled and the adolescent acne of his past had left a few marks here and there.

He wasn’t particularly handsome, but his lean wiry body was just the sort which attracted me, had done since I was very young.

He wasn’t particularly handsome, but he was clever and gave good conversation.

He wasn’t particularly nice to me, but then, I wasn’t particularly nice to him either. It’s safe to say we didn’t really like one another very much. In a group we could just barely manage a passable civility and alone we called one another names, spitting hateful epithets with true vehemence. We had gotten off on such the wrong foot with one another, it seemed we would never resolve it. Both dominant personalities, both straining against one another, rebelling against our perceptions of the other’s attempts to dominate.

We were at a party together, just barely legal to watch the R rated movies on the screen, not quite legal to drink the beers in our hands. Young, anyway. Teenagers. There was to be a beer run, we’d run out. Gianni was going and he was going with. Gianni had the car, Jeff had the fake i.d. I passed off a fiver to him, enough at the time for a good share of a case of Molson’s Canadian. He sneered and asked what was in it for him.

I shrugged. What did I have to offer, really? A skinny little punk with a chip on her shoulder, a grade behind him in high school, no particular position of advantage. He’d been complaining of a wrenched shoulder, the result of the day’s sporting competition, so I offered him a massage. I was known to be good at it and I figured a few minutes of muscle rubbing was worth four or five beers. He agreed.

When they returned, I took up a position, obediently behind him, crosslegged on the floor. As I rubbed his back, we chatted. Pheromones filled the air.

Anyone who ever was an adolescent knows exactly that moment when both of you decide to go for broke. When the control is surrendered.

I slowly sipped my first beer of the evening as he drank deeply of his third and then fourth. First his left then his right hand found its way to my knees, my thighs.

At first they just rested there, aiming for casual, though the position musn’t have been very comfortable at all.

I remember that he was left handed and it was that hand that first made its way to the top of my damp tights, one finger lightly stroking there a few times before it travelled back down my thigh. My own hands stroked his shoulders less and his chest more, marvelling at the definition of his pecs, despite their slender placement.

The next time his hand travelled up my leg, it slipped under my tights. I repaid the favour of his stroking, slipping my hand down his tight stomach and over the bulge in his jeans. I could only feel the tip of his cock, straining against the zipper. I considered freeing it, allowing it to burst forth from the denim, but a glance around the full room dissuaded me.

I made eye contact with a girl I barely knew and she winked at me knowingly. Suddenly horrified by my own forward and public groping, my hand quickly retreated back up to his shoulders. He was not so easily dissuaded, thankfully and he slipped his finger around my soaked underpants and plunged it deeply inside me.

Hungrily my pussy enveloped him and I felt his chest rise and fall rapidly a few times before he leaned back to slide another finger effortlessly inside. I was young and still quite tight, but my juices easily made up for it, dripping down his palm as he rapidly slid his hand up and down and craned his neck back to rest his head on my shoulder.

His lips brushed momentarily against the upward curve of my jaw, just under my ear before he murmurred a command. “Go lie down under the blanket on the futon.” He withdrew his hand abruptly and stood up, leaving the room.

My legs trembled and my pussy burned with the hot blood which swelled my clit and spread my lips aside. Shaking, I climbed onto the futon and wiggled down under the thin blanket. I waited, barely breathing, wondering if he was going to come back, wondering what he was doing, desperately trying to keep my hands off my clamouring cunt.

After a few minutes, he came back and sat down on the edge of the futon. Leaning back on one hand, his back to me, he reached back and resumed his rubbing. Blood rushed to my face. He ignored me completely except for his one busy hand, tucked under a blanket, stroking, pinching, penetrating. As my breath came in shallow gasps he casually held up his end of a group commentary on the film on the screen. I still remember that it was a brutal film, set in a Southern military academy. Some people associate Dixie with racism or slavery. I associate it with the titillation of being coaxed to orgasm by an indifferent adversary.

I tried to keep silent, to pretend to be simply sleeping behind him, but as my peak hit, my jagged breaths took on a high, quiet pitch. I bit my lip until blood sprung into my mouth. I held my breath and I came hard, for the first time daring to show my pleasure by pressing toward his hand.

When the spasms finally subsided he lay next to me for the first time. Bringing his face close he issued another command. “Meet me in the second floor bathroom in ten minutes” and again he was up and gone.

I used the next ten minutes to gather my senses about me and then crept like a thief down the stairs. I stood outside the bathroom door for several minutes, nervous and unsure before finally turning the handle. I found him behind the door, stripped naked, his hard-on bright red and pointing straight at me.

For all the under-the-covers fumbling I’d engaged in as a horny young teenager, this was the first time I’d found myself faced with stark nudity. With a penis standing at attention, with balls drawn up in anticipation. He pulled me towards him and undressed me, fondling my breasts, my ass. He drew my hand towards his cock and I took it into my palm, wrapping my fingers around it and tugging it toward me.

I held it firmly and massaged, I withdrew and tickled it with my fingertips, running them lightly up and down the shaft and over the tip. A dribble of precum escaped and spread between my fingers. My right hand took over the manual ministrations as I lifted the left to my lips, to lick the fingers clean.

He moaned and his knees buckled as my tongue ran down one finger and up the next. He seized a towel rack and thrust his cock towards me, burying it for a moment between my legs before drawing it back, slippery and sticky with our combined fluids.

My hands teased him for an hour, drawing him to orgasm and then retreating, leaving him with shaking legs and a cock more and more swollen. Finally he was pleading with me to let him sit, to finish him as he sat, because his legs couldn’t hold him any longer.

I pulled down the toilet seat and directed his body down, straddling him. Licking dry lips he asked if I had a condom and I had to admit that I didn’t. He tilted his head back and pressed his face against the cool tile wall, suffering to draw his cock up and down my labia instead of plunging it deeply inside me, where it clearly longed to be.

I cupped my hands over the top and let him grind against the soft, slippery skin between my legs, occasionally reaching down inside me to draw more lubrication between us. His dick throbbed with every beat of his heart, the skin stretched tightly over the swelling head.

I slid off his lap and knelt on the bath mat, both hands rubbing him trying match the ferocity of his thrusts. He cried out when I finished him there on my knees, his shout retreating into a long, low moan as I devoured the semen which dripped down his cock, between his legs.

We went our separate ways, never speaking, for good or ill, again.



{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.



et cetera