Sex Marathon
“I’ve never had this much consistent sex in my life,” the words passed through Mr. Wilderness’ lips as he smiled. We lay in bed naked, still breathing heavily after the countless time of pleasuring each other.
“I’ve never had this much consistent sex in my life,” the words passed through Mr. Wilderness’ lips as he smiled. We lay in bed naked, still breathing heavily after the countless time of pleasuring each other. He’d invited me to stay with him for 2 weeks, which eventually turned into an open-ended invite. Our journey North three months ago kicked off in the way you’d imagine. 5 hours into the almost 7 hour drive I leaned across the cab of his truck and unzipped his jeans. Feeling him harden in my mouth really gets me going and it was only a matter of moments before I couldn’t take it; I had to have him right then.
Pulling his pants lower, I climbed on top of him sliding his cock deep inside me while doing my best not to block his view of the road. The truck maintained a steady speed and I moved slowly, savoring each pulse of pleasure until I climaxed. It was the fourth time we’d made love within 24 hours, but the first time either of us had fucked while driving. Still breathless and exhilarated, I returned to my seat and proceeded to suck him to completion. The beauty of driving on a single-lane highway on a Wednesday? I think only 2 cars passed us.
Now we have 2.5 weeks remaining until we’ll be apart for two months and my desire is stronger than ever. Desire for sex, desire for intimacy and desire for love. Three months of a continuous sex marathon took my body to new pleasure heights. Discovering this new uncharted territory is both wild and exciting. My orgasms have become so long I almost feel guilty… almost.
The real question is how will I manage in Montreal this summer with only 1 date night a week with Hugh?
Truths Don’t Have to Hurt
To be truly honest means I must participate in the destigmatizing of shame around the subject of childhood molestation.
When I started this blog back in 2010 it was because people were pleading with me to write it. The very same friends who I would recount details from my wild nights with would coax me, “Everyone wants to hear this, you must create some thing!” So, I did and at the time it took off. Sooo I Met This Guy fill the void in the time post Sex In The City and pre Girls.
Without much effort promoting the platform the readership skyrocketed, media features were published and then I got bored and my actual fashion career began to takeoff. There was barely time to live the life let alone write about it.
Now I’m faced with the self inquiry, “Why am I doing this again?” No one is asking me to write and the readership is a fraction of what it used to be… Honestly a podcast would be the more obvious medium in 2022. For Christ’s sake even Carrie got that right in the SITC reboot and no I haven’t watched it (or Girls for that matter).
So back to the question, what am I getting out of this and why am I taking precious moments of my day to create?
The exhibitionist part of me takes an immense amount of pleasure knowing a part of you gets off reading about my sex, but you already knew that. To be truly honest is to reveal some thing I spent my entire life to keep hidden, even from myself.
To be truly honest means I must participate in the destigmatizing of shame around the subject of childhood molestation; a word that even as I write it on this page (yes I hand write all my first drafts) refuses to be scrawled smoothly.
I continue to share my journey exploring polyamory with the hook of sexual pleasure because for me, being able to flaunt this pleasure is my way of reclaiming something that someone tried to take away from me when I was much too young to be experiencing that kind of sexuality.
Every time I put pen to paper and re-count the glorious ecstasy I share with my various partners, it’s my small victory over those who tried to victimize me. I do not share this because I want your sympathy or because I need you to understand who I am, but because perhaps you’ve been struggling with some aspect of life.
Perhaps you need to know that bad fucking shit happens and it does not need to break you. You have the power to rewrite your story, heal and live for yourself in the way that you see fit. If there is one thing you take away from my ramblings, I hope it’s the strength and confidence to ask for what you want, embrace your sexuality however that manifests for you and accept nothing less than the orgasms and endless pleasure you deserve.
Now, let’s get back to the sexy stuff.
Lovers For Days
It’s been a while since I’ve taken a proper lover, could this sexy man from the East Coast be it?
I’m sitting in the garden a few hundred feet from the ocean; the morning sun beats down gently on my face, the sound of the waves crashing on the beach is infused with 1950s jazz softly humming over what seems to be an antique speaker or perhaps an old record player. My soul is both calm and relaxed but also on fire. Mr. Wilderness arrives in a few days and there is a new kind of excitement at play as I anticipate his arrival.
I wasn’t expecting to meet anyone before his visit, but the universe had other plans.
After the first night with Lover Boy there was a part of me that desired more. It’s been a while since I’ve taken a proper lover, could this sexy man from the East Coast be it?
Just as the night before he stood next to the red truck to collect me, only this time as he opened the door and offered me a lift into the cab, he pulled my wrap around a Pucci skirt to the side to reveal that I was naked. He licked my pussy right there for anyone to see.
We drove down the pitch black road that separated our places; for a desert the road was more jungle than not. He also had on nothing beneath his shorts and while he drove I leaned across the console and did my best to fit all of him in my mouth. Nothing like a little jungle-head.
What came next, pun very much intended, was out of this world sex. At one point I was upside down, my warm cheek pressed against the cool tile floor, ass in the air, my hips barely grazing the edge of the mattress. He was so-fucking-deep it was almost too much… almost. After the fourth or fifth orgasm (I lost count or perhaps the capacity to count) something happened.
I was on top, riding him hard when I started cumming; the intensity of the pleasure kept building stronger and longer and over a full minute later I was breathless, collapsed on his firm chest with his arms around me. “That was the longest and strongest orgasm I’ve ever had”. Truly, it felt like it would never end, “I think we may need to be lovers,” we looked at each other both still hungry for more.
He kissed me, “I’m not ready to let you go,” he smiled and slid inside me again. His words and actions aligned as he made me come once more before we parted ways.
He was Miami bound and we knew it would be months until we’d reconnect, but something told me he would be worth the wait.
Until then Lover Boy.
Unexpected Encounter
We were both breathless, he had me screaming so loudly his travel partner came in, concerned the neighbors were going to complain…
I knew he would be fun from his photos. Dating apps can be a blessing while traveling and with this match the universe was smiling down on me.
We were to meet Friday, but ended up connecting Thursday on account of a last-minute guest showing up at my Casita; a fortuitous upset to our plans as the lustiness of our fun had room to grow. He was in Mexico for two weeks and we met for dinner just two days before his departure.
He was waiting for me, standing next to a red truck and as I approached I knew I would kiss him immediately. His soft tongue slid inside my mouth and I bit down on his lower lip.
Let’s call him Lover Boy.
He took me for what can only be described as life-changing coconut shrimp tacos. As he fed me a piece of shrimp I proceeded to suck the sauce off his finger; the look on this man’s face said it all. It was not long before we were back at his Hacienda.
He slid the straps of my jumper down, revealing the black lace bodysuit that screamed, ‘I like to be bad’. He stood naked, freshly showered with his massive cock fully erect. Lifting me onto the bed he ate me aggressively, ass, pussy, clit, sucking so hard I nearly lost my mind.
After hours of orgasms he finally let himself go, “Thank God for condoms or I’m not sure I could’ve lasted”. He’d taken me for 2 hours before cumming himself.
We were both breathless, he had me screaming so loudly his travel partner came in, concerned the neighbors were going to complain (I think we all know that he wanted to get a glimpse of what all the fuss was about).
Personally, I don’t mind. It’s hot that the sex sounded so good he was inspired to watch. It’s too bad the travel friend wasn’t my speed or I would’ve asked him to join.
Do you like being watched?
Longterm Lover
“Damn,” I couldn’t help but think, “This man is hot, intelligent, with next level style… Yes please.”
It was just another Tuesday night at The Bowery Hotel. Usually I sat out back on the patio, but tonight I’d been seated in the front section. It was all so very long ago; I cannot tell you who I’d arrived with, but I can tell you that the man I left with that evening would become my lover for a decade and counting.
The year was 2010 and the hotel lobby was packed with the usual crew of glamorous guests and select local New Yorkers given access to this exclusive watering hole.
Music never plays in lobby, making it the ideal spot for an intimate business meeting, catching up with good friends or in this case, meeting the man who would rock my sex life for the foreseeable future. (If you’ve been you’ll know its also a great place to rub elbows with a celeb or two).
His hair was longish, you know, that perfect length and texture where it’s not quite falling in his eyes, but long enough that all you can think about is running your hands through it.
Hours of flirtatious banter ended with the two of us at my East Village studio, savagely making out and smoking pot. The way his tongue entered my mouth made me ache to feel it between my legs. Our chemistry was instant and growing stronger by the minute. He took his time with me, running his hands down my neck and shoulders, kissing my throat and breasts.
All that champagne coupled with 10 years of time passed leaves me hazy on the full details of what transpired, however I’m pretty sure we didn’t sleep together at my place; instead we ended up taking a taxi across Manhattan to his townhouse in the West Village. To say his place was a bit more lux than mine would be the understatement of the century. This was PRIME New York real estate.
His design taste was impeccable (it still is) and I could not wait for him to fuck me in front of the giant floor to ceiling 19th century mirrors that faced each other. The dark, open concept main floor became sexier as I took in all the details. “Damn,” I couldn’t help but think, “This man is hot, intelligent, with next level style… Yes please.”
We lit up a freshly rolled joint; as I inhaled the smoke he stood behind kissing the back of my neck. He lifted the straps of my dress from my shoulders and watched as it dropped to the floor exposing my fully naked body. “I love that you don’t wear underwear,” he whispered as he kissed my ear. Reaching between my legs he stroked me to feel how wet I was. Taking the joint from my lips he took a drag, placed it in the ashtray and led me to the sofa. We spent hours devouring each other every which way; getting higher and cumming over and over. I was 5 orgasms deep and we hadn’t left the living room.
As I sat in the taxi at 5:30 AM recounting all the blissful, passionate moments and I knew I’d be seeing him again soon. Back then it wasn’t clear exactly what I was getting myself into; how often and for how long we would play would become more clear as time passed.
It always seemed like there were at least 3 lovers on the go. Because of this, I used nicknames to keep my lovers straight when discussing them with friends. These are the very same nicknames I use in the blog. The only problem? He never had a nickname. Of all the people, in all the years, my friends only knew him by his first name… Let’s call him Edward.
