Let the Curtain Fall

by Ivy

“House to half.�?

A hush fell over the crowd of people, although a few wiggly children could still be heard, squirming with excitement. The impatience began to hover over the mass, and a collective pulse started.

“House out.�?

Silence now settled into the darkened theatre. Out wandered a fully-grown jester, and the children sat on the edges of their seats, eagerly anticipating what might come next.

He stood perched up on the catwalk, dressed in jeans and a dark t-shirt. Yawning, he tried to find something amusing to focus on until he was needed. Adults dressed as animals? Check. Terribly blocked town meeting scene? Check. Parents thinking this was the best production since sliced bread because their children were in it? Check. He yawned again. Yep, he thought, REALLY glad I agreed to help here.

He settled back onto the railing and crossed his arms. The murmur of his headset droned too loudly, so he turned it down. With that buzzing gone from his ear, he heard a soft breathing behind him, followed by soft footsteps. He spun around to see her.

She was standing with one hip cocked, arms crossed in front of her. Although a classically defensive pose, she was smirking broadly. Dressed also in a black shirt and jeans, her pale skin glowed even in the pitch around them.

“You can’t be here,�? he said.

“Okay,�? she said. Her arms dropped to her side and she stepped into him.

“I’m serious,�? he said.

“Okay,�? she said. She slid her hands around his waist and lifted her face to his.

“I’ve got to fly a kid in fifteen minutes,�? he said.

“Okay,�? she said. She let her lips hover against his, and she could feel the moisture on his now-quickened breath. “Then you’d better quit talking.�? She started softly, letting herself remember his kiss, his teeth, his tongue. Finally, she could hold back no longer and she adhered her body to his as she voraciously kissed him. Her hands flew to his head, caressing his face, his ears, his neck, and his hands found her waist and slid up and down the slinky black material of her shirt.

“Dragonfly, you’re up in ten minutes,�? a voice said over his headset.

Her hands were no longer restricted to his head, and she couldn’t move fast enough to the throbbing erection straining against his jeans. She unbuttoned the top button and slid the zipper down just enough to free him, and her hands gladly circled his cock. His head flew back in ecstasy, but they both knew things were just getting started. His hands slid down the front of her jeans to find her wet and pulsing. Her breath caught in her throat as his thumb found her clit and began to rub it. Striving to keep silent, she forced her tongue into his mouth.

Finally, the need was too great. She slid her jeans down to her ankles and he hoisted her up onto the railing. Her legs wrapped around him and his cock found its way into her pussy. They both took a moment to savor the excitement.. here, above a sold-out crowd.. and he pulled out and slowly re-entered her. She kept her mouth to his ear, tracing his lobe with her tongue. The slow rhythm grew into a steady pounding, and she found herself struggling not to scream out. Her back arched with pleasure and she felt the waves of an upcoming explosion start to wash over her. She felt him tense up inside of her and she clung more tightly to him.

“Dragonfly, we need you to start heading up to the catwalk, please,�? announced the voice.

It got to be too much, and she came, her body shaking around him. Her shudders only sent him into orgasm, and she felt him release and explode inside of her. They both went limp and held each other for a moment, then she hopped off the railing and redressed herself. He looked at her with a bemused expression, and all she could do was smile and wink. She stepped to him and kissed him lightly on the lips.

As she trotted back down the stairs, she passed a dragonfly holding a microphone. His little eight-year old frame bristled and he said, “You’re not supposed to be here.�?

“Okay,�? she said, grinning.

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One More Reason for the Sweat

by Ivy

I ran across a very interesting article today regarding how exercise can actually dramatically improve your sex life. I couldn’t agree more; my lover and I actually began working out together at the beginning of the year.

Not only does exercise have the added benefit of you maintaining your remarkable figure for your lover, but getting incredibly sweaty together BEFORE taking off your clothes gets your pulse to a break-neck pace and energizes the both of you.

Men especially benefit from the exercise, and it can result in a decreased risk of erectile dysfunction. So make a New Year’s resolution and choose to get fit..

.. if nothing else, you will appreciate the view from the treadmill.

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The Sexiest Day of the Year

by Ivy

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Someone in my circle asked today: what is your favorite music to have playing when you and your lover touch eachother?

Personally, I prefer a deep bass line, something with a whailing guitar, and low vocals. I prefer something soulful, something deep. And I prefer it to build to a climax.

Much like the sex I prefer, actually. I prefer my sex to be all of those things and more. Whailing, with deep strokes, and an eventual climax.

Some of my favorites:
“Red House” by Jimi Hendrix
“Yeah” by Usher
“If” by Janet Jackson

Let’s make a deal, you and I. Everyone leave a song before tomorrow night. And check back tomorrow night, before the festivities begin. Take a song you’ve never fucked to, and try a new one. Kind of like swapping iPods, but.. not. :)

Enjoy and play along!

Keeping it Buzzing

by Ivy

iStock_000002536247XSmall.jpgHe slid in beside her and bristled at the cold. “Jesus God, this bed is freezing,” he said. She rolled over into the crook of his shoulder and pasted her body against him. She wasn’t much warmer, but she tried.

“I’m sorry you’re not feeling well,” he muttered, kissing her forehead.

“Me too,” she nodded. “You have no idea.”

Even in the dark, he turned to look at her. “What do you mean?”

She shrugged. “It just sucks. It sucks because you have NO clue what hormones I have coursing through my veins right now, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. I’ve just got to lay here, pretend like I couldn’t fuck you blind right now, and then pray that you’ll sleep soundly.” She stopped suddenly.

“Sleep soundly?” he asked. She didn’t move. “Sleep soundly?” he asked again.

“Uh, yeah,” she said. She knew that, even in this silence, her tapdancing could be heard a mile away. “I want you to sleep well.” She rolled away from him.

“Why, pray tell, do I need to sleep soundly?” he asked again.

She sighed and confessed, “Because. When you fall asleep on weeks like this, I..” she took another deep breath, “.. you know.”

No movement. “No, I don’t know.”

She shrugged again. “You know. Yes, you know. I .. play with myself. I .. take care of business. I .. alright, alright: I masturbate.”

He was oddly still. “While I sleep?”

She nodded. “You sleep right through it. I use the smaller one, cause it’s quieter.”

No one moved. She began to nervously fidget, and he remained very still.

Finally, he spoke. “Why not while I’m awake?”

Now she became still. “I’m sorry?”

Again, “Why not while I’m awake?”

She turned and looked at him. “I didn’t think you’d like that,” she said softly.

He reached across her and leaned down to the nightstand. After feeling around for a minute, he produced the small white vibrator and turned it on. “Let me be the judge of that,” he said, and handed it to her.

She stared at it for a moment, the quiet buzz filling the room. Then, hesitantly, she slid the bullet down her stomach, under her panties, until it found her clit. She moaned. He moved in closer to her, his mouth nuzzling her earlobe as her thighs spread and her hips began to sway. She felt the lips of her pussy spreading, opening, getting wet as the pulsation washed over her. Her other hand perused her chest, cupping her breasts and teasing her nipples as her body began to undulate. Her breathing quickened, and her back began to arch..

.. when, suddenly, she turned the toy off.

“WHAT’S WRONG?” he asked.

“I can’t do this by myself. I mean, it’s weird, with you there watching me.”

He puzzled for a moment and then said, “How can I fix that?”

Her eyes, even in the dark, lit up. “Play with yourself,” she growled.

His hand stirred under the sheets, and the buzzing began again. She felt him caressing his cock until it hardened, and she used a fingernail to tease the tip of it until she felt those precious drops of precum soak her fingertip. With him sufficiently occupied, she returned to her own arena.

She heard him grunting softly as she found her clit again with the bullet. Using a precision envied by surgeons, she carefully manuevered the toy over her pulsing clit until a spot became obvious. Her back arched violently, and she heard his breathing quicken. Her screams found their way out of her mouth, and she heard him whisper, “Oh my God, I’m going to cum.”

“I want you to cum on me,” she whispered, in between moans. And as she felt the warm liquid across her breasts, she spasmed, the incontrollable and satiating waves of pleasure shaking her entire torso. The wetness was everywhere, and she was sure her neighbors were aware of the nights’ activities from her screaming.

As they lay there, both warm in the orgasmic glow, she smiled. Maybe weeks like this AREN’T that bad, she thought.


by Ivy

I’ll admit that I erased a post late last night because I thought that it was less-than-classy, but I’ll have to expound on it a bit today. I was unable to sleep last night when I got home because I was so.. for lack of a better word.. restless. I was also really tired, though, so I thought if I just laid still long enough.. but eventually, I turned to The Rabbit. I attribute it to the fact that I was sitting in between two large, handsome men at dinner, and I could almost taste the testosterone between them.

It was enough to make me crazy.

On that same note, as I was walking between buildings today, I passed a young engineer. He looked at me. And I’ll tell you, because I know you can’t see it, that when I typed that, I was grinning. I could SEE what he was thinking when he was looking at me. I had forgotten what that felt like, but I giggled like a little girl. He was devouring me.

Oh, to be devoured.

Save a Dance for Me

by Ivy

So who is reading? I need to know; I have a slight need for exhibitionism. When I pleasure myself, I have to imagine someone watching. I like being the center of attention.

Do you sneak here when you think no one’s looking? You check here, hungry for my words, praying that I’ll use the words “wet”, “explode”, “pussy”. I know. Those words get me, too. Is there something in particular I can do to raise your blood pressure? Something you need, but aren’t getting? Something you would like to know about?

I like to know my audience. It makes for a more.. fulfilling relationship.

When you get around as much as I do, you often have those moments of panic when you run into someone and realize, “Oh, shit.. I’ve fucked him before.” And you can’t remember his name; instead, all that runs through your head are flashes of sweat and his tongue on your neck. I had one of those instances just tonight, as a matter of fact.

While dining out with someone else, a young man entered and sat not far from our table. Our eyes locked, and he actually blushed. It took a long while of uncomfortable glances before I realized where I knew him from.

He had wandered into the club where I danced, accompianied by a few of his high-school buddies. My club was one of the few dives in town that would let any boys under the age of 21 in, and they usually came in the same way: nervous, zealous, and (most importantly) overloaded with cash. As I slithered down the pole, I saw his friends convincing him to be the first of them to “buy a girl”. I smiled. He was the reason this job was fun for me.

I gathered my profits and my bra and made my way offstage. A young man, shaking, came up to me. “My friend wants a dance with you,” he said. His voice shaking.

I giggled and strolled my fingers down his cheek. “Just your friend, huh?” He was hard as a rock and made no effort to hide it as I trailed my hand down his chest to his belt buckle. Anywhere outside of here, I would’ve been a peer to these boys, not being even a year older. But in here, despite what the feminists say, I was in control. I was in charge.

He trembled beneath my fingers. “Yeah, my friend,” he said, pointing behind him without turning. I could easily break them all tonight.

I slipped my arms through my bra straps and flipped around. “Help me?” I cooed, while holding my auburn curls up on my head. He reluctantly hooked the two hooks and stepped back, admiring. “Thank you. Now let’s go meet your friend.”
Read the rest of this entry »

Working Nine to Five

by Ivy

He was angry when he wandered in. I looked up from the phone pad in front of me, expecting to hear the worst of it. He glared at me, his blue eyes piercing me. I trembled which, of course, he noticed.

“Ivy,” he gruffed. “In my office. NOW.”

I barely made it through the door before he slammed it shut. I knew today might be bad, with him booked in meetings from dawn until dusk, but I was so careful to make sure everything was to his liking..

He plopped down in his overstuffed chair and took a deep breath. “Ivy,” he said, almost condescendingly, “do you know what kind of a day I’ve had?”

I smiled my most winning smile. After all, we had been placed together for a reason: he was an incredibly brilliant engineer, the smartest in his field, and I was the hot piece of ass that every engineer wanted. He was well-known for his temper, and people often cowered when they heard him approaching. But I knew him a bit better than that..

“Lock the door,” he ordered. This was how it always started.

“You didn’t say please,” I growled. I circled behind his chair and lowered my lips to his ear. “And you didn’t say Mistress.”

Although no one knew the match when we met, not even us, we soon learned another reason we worked well together: behind closed doors, he needed someone else to make all of the decisions. He needed someone else to be in charge. And usually, if not always, he liked to be made to beg.
Read the rest of this entry »


by Ivy

So you’re back. I figured you would be.

Let me ask you: why do you come back here? I suppose I can guess. You want me to divulge my innermost fantasies, right? You want to know what turns me on, what makes me wet. You want to know what I dream about.

I don’t blame you. I can’t wait to share with you.

My name is Ivy. I’ve been writing erotica since I was 12 years old. About the time I realized that there was power between my legs and strength in my sexuality, I began to write about it. This led to many exciting encounters through my adolescence, and they never stopped. I’ve used sex to get me many places in life, and I’ve enjoyed it along the way.

I can’t wait to share with you, because I hope that you can teach me something new.

So feel free to introduce yourself.

And let me know what turns you on.

Unicorn Sighting, Part I

by Staff Writer

There were a few men lingering outside when we walked in. They waited, presumably watching thru the heavily-tinted glass doors, to see if we were buying tickets. Inside, it felt like an abandoned movie theatre, suspended in time: tattered carpet, frameless posters hanging on the dingy colored walls, empty refreshment counter. I’d have liked to see some hand sanitizer, condoms, etc in those cabinets. But, that’s just me.

“Two tickets?” J asked. He offered the man behind the counter forty dollars, but the man gingerly plucked only one twenty dollar bill from J’s hand.

“She’s free,” he said under his breath, gesturing to me.

J held me close, his arm around my waist and ushered me into the theatre. He could already feel the eyes on us. And, I felt only slightly better with him there. I could count. I felt like at any moment we could get mobbed. I wasn’t comfortable. I’m not sure what I expected, having never been here before. But, it was the last week that this theatre would be open. The neighbors finally pressured the city into rezoning for condominiums. J and I wanted to at least say that we’d been there “back in the day.”

Two men standing at the door held back the vinyl-lined doors for us. The theatre was long, narrow and completely black save the girl-on-girl porn on screen. Thank god for the glaring white background behind the girls on screen. We could at least make out heads to find a seat several rows from the back. We’d have tucked ourselves into the back row, but it looked fairly occupied.

PART II will follow in the morning…

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What Kind of Sex Blog Am I?

by Staff Writer

For those of us who have too many fantasies in our head to write a decent post this morning, have writer’s block, have spine-splitting cramps and feel completely asexual, or are just sucker’s for multiple choice quizzes that force us into a category (like polyamory or swingers).

NOTE: The article at Sexerati is truly worth reading. This quiz is more of a footnote on what is a terrific question about the nature of sex blogging. I actually stumbled into blogging about sex when I began a different blog. Writing about sex was a natural progression and evolution of the type of writing I was doing on the other blog. Plus, the “research” is MUCH more fun for this blog (”obsession,” says J).

I find the religious suggestive amusing in my result on this little quiz on Sexerati, though I would have added “my lover is my co-conspirator in helping me come up with experiences/ideas for posts.”

What Sort of Sex Blog Are You?

Erotic confessional. And your contribution to the future of sex? Liveblogging sex.
Take this quiz!

Quizilla |

| Make A Quiz | More Quizzes | Grab Code

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Sugasm #62

by Staff Writer

The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #63? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form.

This Week’s Picks
Slut (http://lafillemariee.blogspot.com)
“I fucked one man at the request of another, in exactly the way asked for. Then I reported what happened to the one who requested it.�?

When Clients Look Like Relatives (http://radicalvixen.com/blog)
“I walked out the door, saw a man standing there and almost puked.�?

Low Class Stripper? Classism and society’s view of adult entertainment (http://fullfrontalpolitics.com)
“For a lot of women sex work is a last-ditch option, something we all consider in the back of our minds when we’re growing up; we ask ourselves once or twice, if we needed the money, would we strip?�?

Mr. Sugasm Himself
Playboy Soldiers (http://sugarbank.com)

Editors’ Choice
Where the Wild Things Are (http://kinkyfarmwife.blogspot.com)

Join the Sugasm

Read the rest of this entry »

Love Screws Lust

by Staff Writer

I should have at least a three-part erotica for you about our evening with Paul last Saturday. But, it didn’t happen quite as I envisioned. I debated all this week about revealing everything, dismissing the thread altogether, or creating my own sultry version of what happened.

Ultimately, I will not reveal all because no matter how badly it went, I love Paul. I love his spirit, creativity and vulnerability juxtaposed with strength. I cannot dismiss the thread altogether, because it is a part of my collective experience with J. It will certainly fold itself into and help define future experiences. And, to distort that reality in a creative tale to you, only exemplifies the role that technology played in the demise of our encounter in the first place.

Looking back now, what led to the disappointment is that Paul and I had spoken so much via email and IM about each other and the anticipated experience that we scripted much of our hopes, fears and love before we even saw each other. We built a connection that revolved solely around our ability to write, connect and relate to one another in text. Read the rest of this entry »

The Direction We’re Headed

by Staff Writer

When I started this blog in November, I remember opening with some virgin experiences. After all, I was a virgin sex blogger. The writing, and my sex life, has taken many turns since then.

Have you noticed that I’m a bit late in a lot of the things that I do? Well, this little New Year planning tidbit is no exception.

Here are some things in the works for your titillation, masturbation and arousal:


- Podcasts: Yes, gentle readers, you will get the opportunity to hear my naughty voice reading some of my favorite erotica, original work and other delicious soundbytes.
- Calendar: J and I are jumping back into swinging this year. I think J is slightly discontent with love interests outweighing the good sex for us. And, I think he’s right. So, when possible we’ll be broadcasting where we’ll be. Most of the time it will be local (San Fransicsco area), but there will be the occasional jaunt to Tahoe, Vegas, LA, Chicago, New York and Cabo.
- Reviews: There are myriad books on my shelves and toys in my drawers that merit mention. I’ll be working on those soon. I thank LoveHoney for my first official toy review and look forward to more.
- Newsletter: I’m exploring the idea of an email newsletter, complete with a summation of the latest posts, other fresh unpublished tidbits, and photos of me and our playmates that will not go live to the site. More info on that will follow soon…

- There are a LOT (way too many, says J) of blogs that capture my attention. However, my blogroll only gets updated once a month (after the 16th). So, look for that list to expand after that. You’ll see where my naughty eyes roam, even if I rarely leave a comment. I frequent any site that I list on there.

If there’s an avenue that I didn’t mention that interests you, send me an email…

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Do You? (Part II)

by Staff Writer

To read Part I, click HERE.

Do you remember having me bent over on the bed? I was already exhausted, thighs hurting having bounced on top of you quite a while. We were sweaty, breathing heavily. I could see you approach me from behind in the mirror. You grabbed a handful of my hair to arch my back. I tilted my hips up to you, so that your slippery cock would slide right into me. You let the tip of it run the length of my pussy, resting the whole of your erection on my wet lips. And, then you slipped into my ass. It burned and ached. Sweaty chills travelled up my spine. My clit felt like it was on fire. I could swear I felt the moisture dripping from me. You thrust again and again into me, using grip in my hair to increase the force of you within me. We both came in minutes. You rolled to my side, exhausted and spent. I collapsed on my stomach. We fell asleep. Read the rest of this entry »

Do you? (Part I)

by Staff Writer

Do you remember us sharing tiramisu on that park bench? The bench had a great view of a clifftop park just down from us and the beach below. If someone was looking our direction, they saw me in that brown silk skirt with my leg draped over your knee. If the coastal breeze was any indication, the art lovers in the park had an occasional perfect view of my shaved pussy.

Do you remember finishing our picnic quickly? We couldn’t keep our hands off of each other. Your face was freshly shaved, smooth and warm in the sun. And, your lips and tongue. Your lips were thinner than I was used to. I wondered how they would fit against my full lips. When they touched mine, I had chills even in the heat. The strength of your lips dominated mine, teased mine with their vitality. I imagined sex with you rough and fierce. Your plump, soft tongue was a surprise. There was a shocking and arousing delicacy when our tongues touched. I wanted to know what that supple, patient tongue felt like lapping over my clit. Read the rest of this entry »

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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