Ssshhh … this goes no further than us and every other horny person on the web who’s reading right now: today’s roundup of some of our favorite recent sex writing eavesdrops on what all those bloggers out there have (not) been keeping secret lately. Crawl between the ears of seemingly normal people to discover the animals and perverts lurking within: in one corner private photo files lead to tryst at a no-tell motel, while elsewhere unsuspecting passengers ignore the woman masturbating in the back seat. And some secrets come back to bite us: what happens when the sex worker befriends a client . . . or even falls in love?
Put an ear to the glass with Jefferson after the jump.
Sex Blog Roundup
by Jefferson
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Animal
Out in the sun, I cover my sexuality with tailored fabric. During the day I mask the scent of myself and my sex - just as you do: behind walls and houses and clothes and money and duty.
But under it all, we are animals. Nude and salivating, dripping wet from our pores.
I am like you. And you are like me. The energy.
And so, blame me not if I picture you, dear stranger, without those clothes as you stroll past me during the day. At work. Bent over the kitchen sink. Passing through revolving door . . .
- The Provocateur
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Reunion With Morgan
“Come sit down,” he says, and nodding slightly, a little bit nervous because it’s somehow gotten to be two weeks since I’ve seen him, and I am hoping he’s going to want to touch me and to give me a chance to kiss that glorious cock. (Even tho we don’t have D/s relationship, I can see the remaining traces of the sub girl inside–I don’t often initiate without an invite; I have been conditioned to offer, and to ask.)
Plum, A Ripening
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Ok, Cupid, Maybe You CAN Get Me Laid
Then it started getting slightly suggestive. I was being a good boy, I swear! But after a bit, I had to start teasing a little in return. You know, like self-defense. Sorta. Anyway, so we decided to meet somewhere last Saturday, after she got off work. Picked a nice, reasonably-quiet bar. I got there and immediately recognized her from her pics. Oh yeah… pics. Did I mention that by way of teasing me, she had sent me links (”private guest passes”, in Flickr terminology) to several Flickr photo sets she had, that were carefully locked? And for good reason… these included several strip-tease sets, a set from her first orgy (which also proudly pointed out that she herself had organized it), and a set called “not alone”, that comprised of pics of her with others (but which did not belong to the orgy set). As George Takei would say, “Oh my.”
- Diary of an Unrepentant Sex Addict
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Getting Crushed Part Two
But the truth is that when I was on the job, even with guys I liked, even when I was talking about the paper I was working on, I was always dancing around the big lie: that I would be in their apartment for any other reason than the money they were paying me to be there. I projected an image that was me but not-quite-me. I could never be truly myself, because a real flesh-and-blood woman wasn’t what they wanted. They were paying for a fantasy, and, well, you can’t be friends with a fantasy.
Except that R. and I seemed to be becoming friends.
- Confessions of a College Call Girl
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Johnny
I notice that I’m horny in the car on the way home.
Shortly thereafter, I realize that I’m alone in the back seat and that it’s dark in the car. Then I catch on to the fact that the music is pretty loud.
That’s enough for me, and in a trice my pants are undone andIi’m licking my finger. My clit responds gratifyingly quickly and I only have to lick my finger twice before I’m making my own honey.
The smell of my arousal reaches my nostrils and I wonder if the others in the small space can smell me or have any idea what I’m doing. I very nearly hope so.
- Bad Influence Girl
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I’m Very Thankful . . .
He touches my head and pulls my face away from his cock, knowing that it’s getting close. Very close. There’s a part of me that doesn’t want to stop, because I know how happy I’m making him, and besides, I like making it a little hard when a man decides to direct my movements. What’s the fun in making it easy for them?
“I want to be inside you,” he murmurs, looking me straight in the eyes. His breathing is heavy, his eyes dark in the cold room, which is lit by white moonlight.
“I want to be inside of you, but I’m afraid,” he says.
- Clea’s Magic Touch
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See also: Sugasm #107: The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them (sugasm.com)
Thumbnail via xxxfetishclubxxx.com
Previously: Sex Blog Roundup Archive
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Original post by FLESHBOT
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