Recent Gallery


Showing posts with label true stories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label true stories. Show all posts

Snowjob

One of my very favorite memories is the time Jennifer and I stopped for a short walk somewhere on a mountain pass in the Cascades. We'd planned on staying at a mountain cabin owned by a guy from work. He was nice enough to let us use it, and gave us a map and the secret code for the alarm and the hiding place of the key. Unfortunately, the snow was so deep, we couldn't even make it a quarter mile off the highway. We tried to drive up to a rustic mountain resort we'd heard of, but that, apparently was snowed in and closed for the season. So we retreated, back to the highway to a small town, which was little more than a gas station and a motel. We stayed the night at the motel, and normally would have had great travel sex, but as I recall, there was no hot water, no heat, and the fuse blew when we tried to turn on the lights. They eventually fixed the lights, but after what seemed like three strikes, we called it a day and went to bed.

The next day we decided to return to the city, but before we went, we crossed the highway, and walked down a dam. The reservoir was frozen over. After the dam, on the other side, the road climbed up a stell hill, winding into the mountains. We hiked about a mile. We snapped a couple photos, and in one  Jennifer lifted up her jacket and flashed me. She then, without any prompting, squatted down, opened my pants, and took out my cock. Even though the air was biting cold, the warmth of her hands immediately made me hard. She began to suck me, right as snowflakes began to fall. Normally, when you're getting sucked off by the woman you love, you don't think about anything else. But I started thinking about the snow and if we'd get back before it piled up and if the pass would get snowed in and if we'd have to spend another night in that cold, dank motel. And the more distracted I was, the harder it was for me to cum, and so the harder she sucked, gripping me with her hand and really going at it. She was not distracted. In fact, she seemed totally turned on and focused on my erection which seemed larger than usual, hard in the cold air, and thick in her hand. As she pumped me, I could feel the cum begin to build in my balls. 

Just then, I saw, far in the distance, another couple walking up the same road. They were too far away to tell if it was a man and woman or two men, or who. But they were headed for us, and I had my pants open and she was kneeling in front of me, bobbing up and down on my cock. If I could see them, they could probably see us, and could no doubt tell exactly what was going on. 

I told her people were coming. This seemed to make her go faster and harder. She pulled her mouth off my cock and held it open, her tongue, inches from the tip. She does this when she's feeling extra naughty. She wants to feel me shoot on her face, and she tells me this. She likes to talk dirty to me and tells me to cum on her face, to let her feel it. The people are closer now. I can see that it's a middle-aged couple. They are still far away, but they've surely seen us by now. Jennifer is gripping me with both hands, jacking me up and down, her face eager and waiting. Until I shot a large, pent-up load onto her face.

She pumps out every drop. Then she zips me up, and stands quickly. The couple is now so close we can see they are walking a small dog dressed in a red sweater. Jennifer's face is dripping with cum. We can't walk down the hill past them, so we turn up and try to put distance between us and the dog walkers. As we stride, our breath scatters in the cold air. She is glowing with sweat, rosy cheeked, and splattered with cum. She is letting it evaporate on her skin. She says she likes the feel. She says it's good for her complexion. She says it makes her feel naughty and slutly. She says having the couple see what she was doing turned her on even more. She says her underwear is soaked. She says she wants me to fuck her up against a tree, yanking her pants down just enough, and taking her from behind. Hearing her say this makes my half-hard cock twitch and regain a little stiffness. 

Her hand is down her pants as we walk, and she is rubbing herself. She says she's so close she could climax if we stopped. We've now put the couple almost out of sight. They've stopped, either to let their dog do it's business, or because they saw us and are keeping a respectful distance. She stops, her back to the couple. She's rubbing herself. I am standing in front of her, watching the couple. She asks me if I can see them, and I say yes. She asks me what they are doing. "Nothing," I say. "Just standing there." This seems to get her even hotter. She's rubbing herself harder, getting wobbly in the knees, and her face has the look of bliss. "Can they see us?" she asks. 

"Yeah," I say. "I think so."

She smiles. "I'm going to cum," she says. Her head rolls back, her eyes squeeze shut, and her mouth goes slack as she shutters and moans. Then louder, she gasps. Then louder, her orgasm cries echoing off the hills. "I'm cumming," she cries.

The couple with the dog look up, but they can only see her from the back. Maybe they didn't hear. Maybe it was bird or something that caught their attention. Sound carries in snow. The couple turns and leaves. 

We give them 10 minutes or so of a head start before we, too, turn and head back to our car.



Just a Shirt

I love it when she gets up from bed, and it's chilly in the house at morning, and so she grabs whatever is in reach to slip on. Sometimes it's just a shirt.

The Golden Hour

She liked the golden hour. She liked the light. She liked the smell of the sage and lavender. The hills looked soft. During the year that she wrote her dissertation, she lived in the hills at what had once been a farm house long ago. No one was around for miles. She loved to take a bike ride, each day at this time, and feel day turn to dusk, and to feel part of everything around her at this moment.


The Real Thing

In 1969, the Cola Cola company introduced the slogan: "It's the real thing." 

There's been some variations over the years. "Look for the real things"(1974),  "America's Real Choice" (1985), "Real" (2003), and "Make it Real" (2005).

Pretty much any of these slogan would make a perfect caption for this photo.

Improper

Here's Katie, a 20-something gal who goes by the moniker "Improper" on her tumbler blog. What a cutie. She looks so much like an old friend of mine, Caroline, who I had a huge crush on for several years.

This is a new favorite photo, combining so many sexy elements: outdoors in winter, cute hipster glasses, cute sweater, no pants!, and she's growing her bush back of cute red hair. And of course the cute smile/grin/smirk. All in all, sexy.

Her First Toy

From the very beginning, the sex with Rachel was good. She was very relaxed and open about her sexuality, and never afraid to try something new. Surprisingly, for as much as we loved sex and as much as we'd already done on our own and with past partners, neither of us had any experience with vibrators or other sex toys. 

Rachel said she'd always wanted to try a vibrator, but just never had taken the next step of ordering one. So, for a present, I went to a local adult store and bought her a vibrator. I saw lots of different shapes and sizes, from small pocket rockets to giant double-dildos. Since neither of us really knew where to start, I decided on the most basic, a smooth plastic torpedo-shaded vibrator. It took 2 AA batteries. A twist of the handle controlled the speed. It was pretty loud, actually. 

I took it home and gave it to Rachel. She eagerly wanted to try it. She laid back on her bed, naked. Soon she was lost in her own world. I took a photo to capture the moment. 

She loved her torpedo vibe, but in time we added to the collection: a jelly butt-plug, anal beads, nipple clamps, and eventually a better vibrator, larger, quieter, and more powerful, shaped like a cock, with textured bumps and nub to stimulate her clit. After a while, the original toy didn't get much time out of the shoebox we kept under the bed, but we kept it, because it was our first.

Sometimes firsts really are special. 


Fernly, Nevada

My last year of college, my girlfriend Jennifer and I had flown up to Oregon for the Chirstmas holiday, where I bought a pickup to drive back to college to have for the last semester of senior year and to use to move. We wanted to make a road trip of it, so on New Years day, we set out in the new truck. 

We drove south over the Siskiyou Pass and down into Northern California. We then turned East, to climb over the Sierras into Nevada. On the pass, we were caught in a huge snow blizard. It was literally a white out. Cars and trucks were spinning and fishtailing, and sliding into each other. It was truly terrifying. Even with the windshield wipers going full speed, all we could see was a  pelting sheet of snow, and the blur of taillights. We pulled off the highway at the first exit we could. 

The two main hotels by the off ramp were already sold out from other drivers like us trying to wait out the storm. Luckily, we found a room in a small motel. It was one of those places that sort of smelled like mildew and had rough skratchy towels and a lumpy bed. But for us, it felt like we'd completely lucked out. As the storm dumped snow outside and trucks and cars continued to swerve and collide on the highway, we kicked back, grateful to be safe, and warm, and with each other. 


Vegas

So she was in Vegas. She'd come to party, and party she did, still had VIP ribbons on her wrists from clubs and after parties. The pool was a cool place to hang out, soak up some sun and rest. She'd untied her bikini straps for tanning, and she turned to look up, her bikini slipped a little. She didn't care. She was in Vegas.



Same Room

We finally got up the nerve to put an ad on Craigslist for MW4MW. We had never done any swinging before, so we decided to take it slow and post for same room. I was 34 and she 28. The couple we met were probably 10 years older than us. Very social a pretty good looking. They'd been swinging for years. They promised to take things at out own pace. 

We agreed to meet for drinks, and then afterwards, the couple got a motel room and invited us in to relax. They suggested we'd all be more comfortable if we just took off our clothes and hung out. So we did. We were both super nervous. But the new couple, let's call them Carter and Carol, made us more at ease. Carter had a large cock. He had it totally shaved. It sort of instantly turned me off. Carol and he definitely looked to be "in the lifestyle."

Carol suggested we just take is slow and easy and maybe the women could just suck each of their husband's cocks, as she said this, she kneeled down in front of Carter and took him in her mouth. My wife followed suit.  Soon Carter and I were both hard and getting our cocks sucked by our wives. Carter's already thick member seemed to get even bigger. My wife wasn't as experienced at giving head as Carol, it was obvious, but she was enjoying it and into what she was doing. I couldn't help but watch Carol expertly maneuver her mouth on Carter. It was like watching a porn movie close up, and perfectly clear and with real live sound right in front of me of every slurp and gulp. She was giving it to Carter so hard and sure, that I could tell he was about to shoot his load. I felt my own body respond, and began to tense. Carter clenched and thrusts his hips forward as cum gushed from his cock and Carol swallowed. At that moment, I shot my load into my wife's eager mouth.

After that we cleaned up, got dressed, and said our goodbyes. We wanted to have a little test of what it was like, and we'd gotten just that. We told Carter and Carol we'd keep their number and maybe give them a ring sometime. On the car ride home, I was quiet as I drove, wondering what my wife had thought of the whole experience. She'd put her seat back, perhaps to rest. Then at a stop light, I glanced over and noticed that she wasn't sleeping, but that she'd slipped a hand into her pants. I didn't say anything and pretended I hadn't seen. I wanted her to have her moment. It was clear that she was rubbing herself. She continued as we drove, bringing herself to a shuttering orgasm a few blocks from our house.

As we pulled up in the drive, I already knew that Carter and Carol had sent an email thanking us for a nice time. And I knew next friday, we'd be seeing them again.


Emily Dickenson



Emily Dickinson, regarded as one of America’s greatest poets, is also known for her life of self-imposed social seclusion. Her lifestyle created an aura, often romanticised, and frequently a source of interest and speculation. But ultimately Emily Dickinson is remembered for her unique poetry. Within short, compact phrases she expressed far-reaching ideas, questioning the nature of immortality and death. Amidst paradox and uncertainty, her poetry has an undeniable capacity to move and provoke.

Emily Dickinson was born on 10th December, 1830, in the town of Amherst, Massachusetts. As a child, Emily proved to be a bright student. She delighted classmates with her original writings of rhyming stories. Emily’s father was strict in bringing up his children. Emily said of her father: “His heart was pure and terrible.” He censored household reading materials; Walt Whitman for example was considered “too inappropriate” and novels had to be smuggled into the house.

At a young age, she said she wished to be the “best little girl.” However despite her attempts to please and be well thought of, she was also independently minded.

Because of her discomfort in social situations, Emily gradually reduced her social contacts, going out less and less into society. By her late twenties, this led to an almost complete seclusion; she spent most of her time in the family house. Still, she maintained close personal relationships through letters, and penned more than 1,700 poems, which were published after her death. She had instructed her sister to burn all her letters. Not specifying poems, those, luckily, were spared. There are only a few known photos of Emily. No doubt many of her secrets were kept from history.


Hilary Swank goes for sexy

First Julia Roberts, then Drew Barrymore and now Hilary Swank has become the latest Hollywood star to boldly stride the red carpet with natural underarm hair. The 36-year-old joined her contemporaries at Elle Magazine's Women in Hollywood Tribute party last month at the Four Seasons Hotel in Los Angeles.

The double Oscar winner looked stunning in a gold Calvin Klein bustier dress, with her overall sexiness enhanced by her soft tufts of golden hair subtly peaking from under her arms.

Sexy Sex blog applauds Swank for her fashion forward (or fashion retro) decision. Bravo!







Drew Barrymore at Marc Jacobs
fashion show, 2005



Julia Roberts at the London premiere
of Notting Hill, 1999

Sun bathing


Sun bathing--when you really do it right, feels like a warm soak, relaxing and refreshing your whole body. A little sun in moderation, can give you the vitamin D you need, make you feel happier and reduce stress and anxiety. 

The older generation, who grew up in the 1920s and '30s, talked a lot about taking in sun baths. Don't hear that anymore. Too bad. With protective sunscreen, it's a free, easy, and  enjoyable way to recreate. I think it's a activity worth bringing back.  

Weekend Sex

Weekend sex... no hurry. You can sleep in. Have sex. Take a coffee break. Go back to bed. Plenty of time to rest, relax, and try out new things.

Trekkie


The average Star Trek fan, or Trekkie (or Trecker), is usually the nerdy guy. The comic book, action figure, didn't go to prom dork. But sometimes super smart girls, the ones that seemed like late bloomers, in band, on the debate team, in French club, and who volunteered all through high school and college, not for their transcripts, but because they wanted to.  Sometimes those girls are trekkies. 

For every million trekkies, their may be only one of these, but oh my. Look out. Sexy!


Looking Outside In

They knew with the lights out no one could really see into their apartment, but they could see out. They could watch people in the building opposite them doing dishes, watching TV, etc. It seemed so much more erotic to know that while the neighbors went innocently about their various daily lives, they were fucking. She loved being pressed to the window and fucked in the back. He'd pinch her nipples, or rub her clit, or spread her lips wide. The more lewd it was, the hotter it was that no one could see, but almost could. Darkness is the thinnest of curtains.





Her 40th Birthday Gift

For her 40th birthday, he gave her a one-time very special gift. He told her he had invited a friend over. He didn't tell her who, and blind-folder her so she'd never know, and always be guessing, trying to match the face and every seemingly knowing smile or wink with the memory of the anonymous cock. It was a wonderful guessing game, seeing every male friend as a possible lover, knowing that one of them had shot his load into her hungry mouth. Not knowing was so much better than knowing. It was truly a gift that kept on giving.



Patricia's Payments

Patricia was a professional in her mid 30s. She had gone to graduate school in mental health and had a job at one of the city's major hospitals. She drove an expensive car, wore well-made clothes, and lived in a vintage Bungalow in a hip part of town. Living alone, though, she often had more house maintenance than she could do, or wanted to do, herself. There was always something--raking leaves, cleaning gutters, fixing the sidewalk where a tree root had cracked the cement. She'd hire someone to do the job for her, usually some younger guy in his 20s, though not always. Sometimes it was whoever she could get for the skill she needed. Usually she could get young studs for the hard labor, but plumbing and electric, those tended to be middle-aged men, usually married with kids. Those were the easiest.

She'd let them do the work, then when it was time to pay them, she'd pour a glass of wine, and tell them she didn't have the money and maybe there was something she could do in lieu of payment.

She often wore tight skirts, or nice low cut dresses that revealed her cleavage. She saw the men check out her chest, and once they did, she knew she had them. She was trained in psychology, so she felt like it was a game, a little practical challenge to get them to agree. Of course, with the married guys it was a snap. The younger guys would hesitate a second if they had girlfriends and if they were already getting it every day. That was part of the thrill and challenge for Patricia.

She had the money to pay them, but it was a nice victory to have a $600 plumbing bill voided. She could  treat herself to new shoes or a weekend at the coast. She would always think of it as a challenge of her mind over their weak will. It made her feel powerful and smart. She would never admit that it also made her feel, just for a moment, younger, as if she could stop time. That was power.

What would Smokey Do?

As a girl, she'd grown up hiking in the woods, backpacking, hiking. She'd been told over and over again from Smokey Bear: "Only You Can Prevent Forest Fires."

We'd had a campfire, and let it burn all the way down. I took a stick and stirred the ashes. Still, it smoldered. We were backpacking out in the dry country, where the trees aren't Doug Fir, but Ponderosa pine. Water sources were few and far between and we needed to save our water for drinking. It'd get hot in the day and we ran a real risk of dehydration.

So what's a good backcountry girl to do, but pull down her pants do her part to put the campfire all the way out.

I was both shocked and impressed. Bears pee in the woods all the time. So I guess it's exactly what Smokey would do.

Coy Caroline

Caroline was never my girlfriend, though I always wanted her to be. I can't even remember how we met, but it was when I first moved back to Portland. I was renting the upstairs of an old bungalow owned by a burned-out hippie. Upstairs I entertained my artistic friends, filmmakers, painters, indie musicians. Caroline was from Canada on a student Visa, and seemed to have lots of time to hang out, paint, do crafts, and just listen to old records from the thrift stores. She had a boyfriend, who was nice enough, but didn't seem particularly artistic. I was Caroline's "art" friend, part actual friend, and probably just as much, a creative outlet.

I was always flirting with her. And when we went swimming in the summer, I was always checking her out in her bikini. She was pretty as a model, with long, straight red hair, light freckles and a devilish smile. She always kept her mouth closed when she smiled, like the Mona Lisa, because she had one slightly crooked tooth. I thought she was stunning. 

No matter how much we'd go swimming, or how many cocktails we'd have, she wasn't going to leave her boyfriend and have the passionate affair with me that I felt we both so deserved. 

Finally, I realized that she loved photography and that I could at least appeal to that. I showed her some arty nudes I'd taken of a former girlfriend and she loved them. I casually suggested that she'd made a great model. She grinned coyly, and considered it with saying anything for a while as she flipped through the images. I could tell she was really giving it some thought. Even her forehead was crumpled up. And her lips were trembling a little. It was very cute. As hot as she was, she was also just a really nice girl. Not spoiled or stuck up. She was nice to everyone. Smart, but shy. Pretty and liked being pretty, but never conceited. The kind of girl in high school that was in sports, but also in the French club, and talked exactly the same to the popular kids as the unpopular. 

She loved photography, art. She wanted to be part of that world. She had grown up looking at images of models and movie stars. Of course she projected herself into those images. She also wanted to be a rebel, a little, because she'd always been the A student. But she also was scared and shy about herself, and didn't want to admit that as much as she intellectually accepted her A-cup breasts, she really wouldn't have minded being at least a B cup. She wanted to feel and look beautiful and sexy. And, if she was really honest, she actually loved attention.

"Ok," she said. And smiled her closed smile. "Let's do it."



Double Date

They went on a double date out for drinks and then dancing. Their girlfriends seemed to be getting along really well, and when they got back, things took an unexpected and interesting turn. The guys, encouraged by the flirting and teasing on the dance floor, dared the girls to kiss. They did. They dared them to take off their tops, and they did. They dared them to go farther, and they did. By this point, the girls did their own thing, and all the guys could do was stand back and watch. They grabbed their phones to get a picture because no one would ever believe them.

 
Support : X TUBE GIRL
Copyright © 2014. over hardcord sex - All Rights Reserved

Proudly powered by Blogger