Archive for March, 2007

Homework for the Weekend

Friday, March 30th, 2007

My homework this weekend is inspired by the sudden and intense heat-wave that has struck much of the south this week. It is one of my favorite things to do during the summer, and it will make you so much more aware of your skin.

Sleep naked.
I love this homework assignment because it requires very little effort on your part; it’s free, you already have all of the tools you need, and you can benefit from it immediately. It also is a very freeing experience to not allow yourself to hide behind anything, and I guarantee you’ll sleep better.

It also helps to wake up in a happy mood.

Really want to enhance the experience? Treat yourself to a luxurious experience by preparing a bit beforehand. Take a long, warm bath or shower, and put clean sheets on the bed before you climb in. (And, as always, feel free to dirty them up as soon as you get comfortable.)

Have a fantastic weekend!

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Hold it Against Me. Please.

Thursday, March 29th, 2007

The sound of you breathing still makes me shiver.

I was young, and although I was far from naive, I most definitely had never had the pleasure of something called a “grudge fuck” before. My encounters were far too fleeting to ever had led to anything more than a night, and this was new to me.

You were pacing in my bedroom, furious at my accusations and even more angry that I was right. You had left your lady to be with me, and yet I dare hold you accountable for you being an hour later than you promised? How dare I? Your furor was obvious to even the neighbors; your voice found no boundary in the thin walls. I remained unmoving in my bed, shrouded by the darkness (you were not even worth me turning the light on), and sitting up on my elbows.

Your anger continued on, and I began to rethink what I would do if you suddenly turned violent. You never had, and in truth you never would, but your sudden rise to anger made me wonder. I eyed the doorway to my bedroom, the one you were conveniently pacing in front of. Your steps were becoming more harried; your frustration began to overwhelm you.

I would not lose my cool in front of you. You accused your significant other of having no control of her emotions; I would not give you the satisfaction of saying it was a trait in all women. Finally, I found my pillow, rolled over, and bid you goodnight.

I heard you slam my front door. HARD.

I waited for the sound of you car door and grabbed my phone, convinced that you would be dialing me at any second to continue this rift. Always prepared, my thumb hovered on the “Ignore” button. But the phone never buzzed, and I never heard your car door.

I heard my front door. And your leaden feet on my floor.

And although I trembled in my bed, I stiffened my spine when your frame lurked in my doorway. “What do you want?” I growled.

You moved toward me, nay, lunged at me in the dark and pinned my shoulders to the bed. “No more talking,” you whispered, and before I could argue, your tongue was in my mouth.

Sugasm Start-Up

Wednesday, March 28th, 2007

The best of this weeks blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #72? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the linklist within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks
Roué (
“Her sighs of contentment build as my touch does its work.�?

Wrong Number (
“They said clients were trying to call me and getting this restaurant instead.�?

Ride to the Cabin (
“As he pulled into a dark lane that led into a grove of trees, I reached over to stroke him.�?

Mr. Sugasm Himself
Loveland (

Editor’s Choice
Your hair (

More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm

Erotic Writing and Experiences
3 is The Magic Number: Three Songs (
Entry Box…. (
Midnight Thrusts (
Setting Your Panties on Fire (

Podcasts & Poetry
“Cocaine�? Kimberly Was Her Working Name (
Episode #1-Sex with another woman (

BDSM & Fetish
Birthday Spankings! (
Marked (
Nature versus nurture, spanking-style (

Sex News & Politics
The Flaming Genitals Archive (
Morality in Media Loses Congressional Funding (

A Reader’s Request

Tuesday, March 27th, 2007

istock_000001576239small.jpgA young reader emailed me this weekend regarding a certain aspect of foreplay: cunnilingus. I emailed her back some quick tips, and she admitted that more information would be welcome, so here! Ask, and ye shall receive.

The quick tips that I shared with our reader certainly apply to all of my readers, and this particular tip applies to both the ladies AND the gentlement. My tip? Eat lots of fruits. Fruit has natural sugars that break down and actually alter your “taste” down under, and have also been said to improve smells as well. (Although, ladies, to be honest, if a man complains about the smell, he’s not worth your time.) While any juicy fruit will work, kiwis and mangoes have specifically been favorites for this. Don’t expect a sudden change; sometimes it will take 24-48 hours to notice a difference.

And let me be quite honest, it will not change it dramatically. It is, after all, pussy.. not a lollypop.

Make sure your man has a “wet” mouth. Nothing is more uncomfortable and unpleasant than having a dry tongue (or finger, for that matter) on your clit. You can do this by kissing him firmly and making out with him. He’ll naturally do his own saliva thang.

Have him start gently on your outer lips, your labia, and use gentle kisses alternating with tracing small circles with his tongue. My personal favorite is when my lover will purposefully avoid my vagina altogether at this point; the anticipation of him finally zeroing in is so delicious.

As he finds his way in, he will need to focus on variety. Your clit has seven times more nerve endings than the tip of the penis; too much attention in one area will quickly become uncomfortable to you. I’ve heard more one than one guy swear by the “ABC” method, where you use your tongue to trace the letters of the alphabet, so that you get a variety of sensations in there.

If you’re enjoying yourself and he’s in a good place, he can venture with a finger or two inserted into your vagina. I prefer this; some women just want one thing at a time.

I hope this helps a little bit, but every couple has their own way to figure things out. I hope that you are enouraged to practice, practice, practice!

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Monday Menage e Trois

Monday, March 26th, 2007

I got a list of questions from a reader last week, and it obviously struck such a chord that I received a list this week as well. I’m now going to make this a weekly feature called Monday Menage e Trois. Feel free to email me any quickie questions you’re scared to ask anyone else.
My girlfriend often talks about how poorly her ex treated her. I’m doing my best to support her, but I can tell she’s still harboring a lot of resentment. How can I get her to stop?
It sounds like she needs some serious closure. This would be a prime time for margaritas around a bonfire, where we burn him in effigy. Then hootchify yourselves up and hit the bars. Or you can submit her application to “Intervention”.

I love my boyfriend, and I’m turned on by him. But when we have sex, I start fantasizing about other men. What can I do to focus on the person on top of me?
First and foremost, let me say that no one is going to focus on their partner 100% of the time. It is healthy and natural for your mind to occasionally wander. But it sounds like your concern is valid because you seem to ONLY be aroused when he’s not him. Might I suggest some light role playing? Naughty cop or rugged farmhand, maybe putting on a new persona will help.

What’s your advice to someone who’s interested in playing rough in bed but doesn’t want to cross the line?
This is something you can “test the waters” with before actually discussing it, but be gentle and HIGHLY attentive in your approach. Try hair-pulling or LIGHT spanking, and watch carefully to see if they’re digging it or not. If you do this successfully and you want to explore rougher terrain, be sure to discuss this in full with your partner and create a “safe word”, an alarm that means all playing is done when you hear it.

Send me your questions for next week’s menage e trois!

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I’ll Leave a Light on For Ya.

Sunday, March 25th, 2007

We wandered down the halls of the hotel, excited to be somewhere new. As we saw the new sights and smelled the smell of paint and cleaner in the recently-remodeled hallway, we began to notice the various sounds that were inundating the hall as we walked.

We passed one room where a man was laughing loudly. It made us smile.

We passed another room where a tv was blasting some Bruce Willis movie. We stopped for a minute and puzzled as to what the movie might’ve been, and then we went on our way.
Then, we heard it. The muffled sounds of a couple having raunchy, sloppy, real sex. The kind of sex you can only have when you’re in a room you’ve never seen before, and you’re not responsible for cleaning. The kind of sex that no one but you will ever know about, and you’d always dreamed of having, and it smells foreign and feels heavenly. THAT kind of sex.

Homework for the Weekend

Friday, March 23rd, 2007

Inspired by Steph over at Elementary Chef, this weekend’s homework is a particularly fun and exciting activity: mix food with foreplay.

Notice that I specified food with FOREPLAY: using food or liquids not intended for intercourse (which is most of them) can cause bacteria to breed and infection to run rampant. (Blech.) But if used carefully, food can be a great and easy way to bring some variety into the bedroom!

If you need some inspiration, here’s a few beginner’s ideas:

  • Use a piece of juicy fruit to trace luscious lines on your partner’s body, and then use your tongue to follow that path. The erotic mix of smells, tastes, and sensations will bring a whole new meaning to getting your three servings of fruit a day!
  • Chocolate has been a long-standing aphrodesiac.. why not carry it into the bedroom? Chocolate syrup is a wonderfully messy way to spice things up. Consider using the syrup during fellatio as an incentive to swallow (ha!) or during cunnilingus as an incentive to.. perform cunnilingus (ha ha!). Just, again, be careful to make sure no syrup makes its way inside the vagina, for safety’s sake.
  • And for the lady who appreciates the summer produce selection, an especially “fitting” cucumber can entertain the single lady for $1 a pound. What a deal!
  • If you find any more unique food items to use, be sure and share!

    Have an especially “fruitful” weekend, lovely readers..
    [tags]fellatio, foreplay, cunnilingus, food in foreplay[\tags]

Finding “Sexy” Without Sex.

Wednesday, March 21st, 2007

I remember it very well, even though you pretend it never happened.

I remember the beer on your breath. I remember how that wasn’t all that I tasted in your cheek with my tongue; you tasted like stale beer, old cigarettes, and fear. You stank of fear.

I don’t blame you. You had every reason in the world to be terrified of me. I was just like you.

You, who constantly preyed on the weak and insecure, only to fulfill the abandonment they fought against when the sun rose. You, who had the lines down pat and breathed his role with every fiber of his breathing. You, who were dashing and unconventional, paying insincere comments to women in the hopes that you could woo them cheaply.

I was you. In a female form. Which, I suppose, is terrifying.

I remember how you clumsily groped my breasts as I felt your tongue along my lips. I remember thinking how, after all these years of admiring you from a distance, the truth was not as pleasant as I had dreamed. I remember trying, pleading, begging your tongue to just. slow. down. We were in no rush. We had all the time in the world.

I remember you sweating. Unnecessarily.

And I remember becoming bored with you quickly and ending it almost as soon as it had begun. I had better things waiting for me elsewhere. And you had your wife to go home to.

Sometimes, it does not take sex to make us feel sexy. Power, superiority, strength.. those will suffice. You made me feel sexy. I remember that. I remember you.

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Swing with Me

Tuesday, March 20th, 2007

I did my own homework this weekend.

We were enjoying one of our milder nights here in the south, and chose to walk downtown to soak in the breeze. Although we left our front porch before the sun had dipped down, on our return stroll, we had shadows forming all around us.

Hand in hand, he led me down a street I had never explored before, and we discovered a sprawling playground, complete with swings, slides, and stairs. I shrieked with excitement; he hesitated.
“Come swing with me,” I begged. “Please.”

He decided he would rather push.

It started out innocently enough, with him seeing how high I would let him push me. Then, without warning, he stopped me when I came to him, and he started nibbling my neck. For just a moment, I had that sudden “What if someone sees us?” fear, but his warm breath calmed me. I felt his teeth nip at my collarbone, and a sigh escaped my lips. My hands reached behind me to pull him closer to me, and I felt him, rock hard, digging into me. Then I let go.

I hopped off the swing and found my way to the playfort, and as I figured he would be, he was only two steps behind me. A stair-step platform allowed me to sit and remain at eye level, and I kissed him deeply, remembering his taste as it filled my mouth. I bit and pulled at his lower lip, an unspoken sign that I needed him. Now.

Start Spreading the … Sheets

Monday, March 19th, 2007

You know how, when you start the vibrator up, you always assume that no one is watching you? Or aware that it’s happening?

My writing here feels very much like that.
I’m allowed to wander as I please, at my own pace, feeling my own way around. I can take my time, and I can time my own climax like I like. It’s private. And no one know I’m doing it.

Well, not quite, I suppose.

I was happy to see Between the Sheets reviewed over at Sexy Blog Reviews, and even happier to see that the review was positive! And even happier yet to see that my “A Dinner Out” series inspired the purchase of a remote control vibrator. SUH-WEET.

So spread the joy and show the love by hopping over there. They’ve got some great reviews of sites I hadn’t yet visited, and in my humble opinion, you can never have too many favorite sexy blogs.

Now, back to that portion about the vibrator..

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St. Patty’s Day Hangover

Sunday, March 18th, 2007

I know it’s well past the holiday, but I received a questionaire from a reader with some questions for the fair-skinned and redheaded (like myself). I thought I would share.
How can I get over my Catholic guilt?
I’m a fan of Catholic guilt, personally. You tend to be more open-minded when you’re working under the assumption that you’re going to be punished anyway.

Any tips for avoiding whiskey dick?
Ah, it’s all in the timing, my dear readers. And, much like your homework, using something different (like public foreplay) can definitely counteract the dreaded whiskey dick.

Can I insist that my boyfriend keep using condoms even though we’re officially monogamous, just in case he cheats? Or would that suggest that I don’t trust him?
This, obviously, will vary by couple. If it’s really that important to you, don’t be afraid to stand up for what you want. And don’t forget, condoms make a guy last longer AND provide much needed lubrication. So there’s many a benefit to a love glove.

I woke up with my girlfriend after a night of drinking, and she can’t stop talking about how amazing I was last night. Problem is, I can’t remember a damn thing. How can I find out what exactly I did?
She’s THAT excited, huh? Why not ask her to return the favor so she can perform for you? (And stay sober to take notes this time!)

I can’t stand giving blowjobs, but my boyfriend loves them. Any advice?
It’s all in the eyes, my dear. Every guy loves watching their cock being sucked. Make sure the lights are on, groan and make eye contact, and you’ve got him. (Just be prepared for the hair pulling, because he may not be able to control himself.)

If I can’t find a four-leaf clover, what’s the best way to get lucky on St. Patrick’s Day?
I’ve never needed a clover. Try being fair-skinned and redheaded and friendly. (Drunk helps, too.)

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Homework for the Weekend

Friday, March 16th, 2007

My dear, lovely readers, I apologize for my lack of quality posts this week. To be quite frank, I did something I never thought I’d do: I broke my vagina from having too much sex.

(Okay, so “broken pussy” is not the medical term.)

However, next week, I plan to return with full force. I’ve started several different stories and bookmarked interesting articles for all of us to delve into together. In the meantime, I leave you with a new assignment:
Fool around some place public.

Now, don’t go and get crazy and then blame me later. (Note to all: post-coital hair makes the WORST mugshot.) But I can tell you that shadows are your friend in this case: movie theatres, darkened alleyways, and empty parking lots are fabulous for this. And another word of wisdom: don’t begin more than you can quickly end, in case of intrusion.

Or, if it’s worth sticking to, be prepared to focus and get the job done! ;)

Have a lovely weekend, and I’ll see you soon. Sweet dreams..

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Great Humor = Fun Sex

Sunday, March 11th, 2007

Smallville is on the tv on a lazy Sunday afternoon.
Me: C’mon, you know you’ve wondered.
Him: Wondered what?
Me: Well, you don’t have to admit it. I’ll admit it. I’ve always wondered.
Him: Wondered WHAT?
Me: I’ve always wondered if he had Super Sperm. You know. I’ve just wondered what it’s like to have sex with Superman, you know?
Him: Well.. you should know. I mean, how was it last night?

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Thursday, March 8th, 2007

When you came up behind me, you thought I didn’t see you or notice your presence. You were wrong. Not only did I catch your reflection in one of the many gray bookcases that fill my cubicle, but the electricity from you was noticable from down the hall. Your smell washed over me as you entered, and when you put your hand on my shoulder, it was enough to make me sigh.

“It’s a ghost town in here today,” you said, softly. You weren’t supposed to be in there; a high, important executive like yourself shouldn’t be seen meandering with just a peon like myself. But we had connected early, hadn’t we? It was unsaid, and overwhelming.
“Big meeting down the hall,” I said, wanting to face you, but desiring your hand to stay where it was. Truth be told, I had a million places I wanted your hand, but my shoulder would suffice..

As if reading my thoughts, your hand slid down my arm and squeezed gently. I spun my chair around to meet your eyes, your dimples. Your silver hair is so dignified; your cowboy boots belie your position. You smile at me and I grin.

We are alone.

You cup my chin, and I am scared to move. You have everything to lose, and my name would never be released. We are defying everyone right at this moment, and I can’t hear anything but my pulse and our breath.

You lean forward and kiss me on the forehead, gingerly. I try and feel the suction of your lips, the warmth of your mouth. You wink at me as you turn to leave.

And as I watch you leave the area, I am throbbing and unsatisfied. Which is always how we leave it, and it’s what keeps us coming back for more.


Challenge Yourself.

Wednesday, March 7th, 2007

I remember the first time I felt it. In the massive bench seat of my ancient ‘88 Pontiac, the windows were getting steamy on a warm Alabama night. He was two years my junior, and that night, he taught me something about myself I didn’t know.

After voraciously making out for hours, we decided to play a game.

“Let’s see how long we can hold out from kissing,” he challenged. “The first to kiss the other one wins.” He began by nuzzling my neck, a weak spot for me. I nibbled his earlobe when it came within reach. I felt his breath trace along my collarbone, and a thousand goosebumps made their way to my skin. My pulse was racing as I struggled to stay in the game; my hands grazed under his waistband and I sighed. He kissed my ear, and I melted.

“Kiss me,” I panted.

“What?” he teased, licking the inside of my lobe.

“Kiss me. Please.” I was throbbing.

“Beg me again,” he growled. His lips were so close to mine, I could taste his breath.

Please. Kiss. Me.

And he did. And it was sooooo sweet.


Last night, we lay in bed. I was tired; he clearly was not. His hands gingerly started at my neck and lightly ran over my collarbone, gently over my breasts, and finally down to my waist. By the time he made it that far, I was yearning for his touch. His hands finally made their way down into my panties, massaging my inner thighs. He found me already wet when his fingers slid inside me, and my back arched. I instinctively reached for the waistband, and he went still.

“No,” he said. I sat back, shocked.

His fingers found their way back inside me, pumping. A moan escaped my lips and, again, I reached for him. And, again, he went still. He was more firm this time. “NO.”

And I wanted him more because of it.

Tonight, retrict yourself or your lover. Force them to acknowledge themselves. It makes something surface that invigorates what could be routine. Something as simple as a kiss; something as amazing as a night.

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About Between the Sheets

Cock. Hard. Pussy. Wet. Tongue. Throb. Sweat. Impale. Well, you made it so far; you might as well make yourself cozy. Isn't it amazing how all of those words have completely mundane definitions until you link them all together?

Welcome to Between the Sheets, where no aspect of sex is taboo and nothing is sacred. So come in and stretch out. Leave a comment. Browse around. You'll leave either appalled or enthralled, but you'll definitely remember your first time. (And it only gets better AFTER the first time.)

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