and one more for luck!

Jingle bells, everyone!

Cumming hard for the holidays

On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me... oh, chocolates or something. I gave him a blowjob.

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On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me... chocolates and a bottle of wine. I gave him a blowjob


Christmas Blowjob Doggystyle by Hot Girlfriend brought to you by Tube8

On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me... chocolates, wine and a novel I'd wanted. I gave him a blowjob


HEATHER IN CHRISTMAS brought to you by Tube8

On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me... chocolates, wine, paperback and a DVD. I gave him a blowjob


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On the fifth day of Christmas... blah blah blah. I gave him a blowjob

Christmas Blowjob
from sunie6
on EmpFlix.

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Who says the spirit of Christmas is dead?

WHATEVER YOU WANT TO CALL THEM... HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE!

All I want for Christmas is a mouthful of cum...

Hot cum! Delicious.

You can't miss it... and neither does she! That little look of triumph is a true Kodak moment!

NOW AVAILABLE FOR NOOK BOOKS

Great news for Nook book readers....

The First Time & 59 Other Magic Minutes, the first collection of my erotic verse, is now available for Nook readers from Barnes & Noble, price 2.99


And still available - Kindle edition; print edition

Driving home for the holidays

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Hands in pants!

Sometimes I like... to just sit back and watch

Thanks to Hands In Pants for letting me!

My Lollipop Tastes of Cock

Great idea, wrong flavor.

"NORTH HOLLYWOOD, Calif.—Adult novelty manufacturer Doc Johnson has just released their highly anticipated line of Good Head Suckers, a variety of four flavored oral sex enhancing lollipops."

I was so excited when I first saw these... and then I read the small print.

Oral sex enhancing?

No! We want oral sex flavored!

The Nympho Librarian and Other Stories

Eleven scalding tales of lust and love in the halls of public learning - the town library!

The sex is hot, but the librarians are hotter, as authors Chrissie Bentley and Jenny Swallows reveal the lip-smacking truth about what goes on behind (and on top of, and around as well) the bookshelves.

Includes the tales THE NYMPHO LIBRARIAN, SILENCE IN THE LIBRARY, COUSIN TOM’S FIRST BLOWJOB, CUM BREATH, THE LIBRARIAN’S CHRISTMAS STOCKING, THE STUDENT BODY, STICKY FINGERS, MY CIVIC DUTY, WATCHING THE CLOCK, THOROUGHLY MODEM MISS and CHECKING OUT.

BUY IT NOW from Kindle just $2.99

BUY IT NOW print edition

EXCERPT
THE LIBRARIAN'S CHRISTMAS STOCKING

Firm fingers pulled my pussy apart although it needed very little encouragement. I was wet even before his tongue lapped the pink, could feel the panties he’d dragged down sopping against my stockinged foot, and the tight fawn skirt bunched against my back and that, too, felt moist. Ridiculously, I hoped it had not stained, then feeling ridiculous, I stifled a cry out as his tongue pushed inside my folds.

He twirled it around, then looked up at me. “You like that.” It was a statement, not a question, and my hand fell to the back of his head, gentle pressure the only answer he needed. But he resisted and his eyes flashed in the harsh fluorescents that buzzed above us.

I was standing on one foot, the other braced against a bookshelf, my foot inching a far volume backwards. 891.7 - Russian literature. Not a section of the library that received many visitors, especially this close to Christmas, but the occasional voice from the far end of the room reminded me that we were not yet closed for business, and here I was with a stranger on his knees and his mouth... his mouth... he licked again and I bit my lip to keep from moaning, which was not the response he expected. Because now his tongue was flat against me as his fingers pulled me wider, long sweeps that stopped short just a wriggle from my clitoris, so that’s what I did. I wriggled a little but he was faster, rocking back on his heels and blowing instead, a sharp rush of warm air that collided with my liquid lust, and I turned my head to bite the arm that clung for support to the top of the shelf. 817 - American literature, satire and humor.

One finger inside me, then two and his mouth again, circling my clit, teasing it, teasing me. He broke again. “I like your hair like that.” It hung loose below my shoulders. “It makes you look abandoned.”

Abandoned. I could only imagine what else I looked like, my glasses pushed up to my forehead so they wouldn’t bump his face when we kissed, my blouse half unbuttoned and one bra cup twisted down and around, when his fingers grazed my nipples and his teeth bit sharp around them. My skirt round my waist, my panties on the ground and a guy two-thirds my age, with two-thirds of his hand sunk deep inside me, licking out the fantasy that he’d texted me this morning.

all i wnt 4 xmas is 2 lick a lbrns cunt

==================================

A true story? Perhaps. But I'll say one thing - I had no idea that librarians were the stuff of male fantasies until I actually started to work as one. And to prove this is not just some twisted Jenny fantasy, brought on by too many eggnogs behind the biology shelves, here's a fascinating paper on librarian imagery in the media, followed by a catalog of 70s librarian porn novels, as compiled by blogger memetician.

Bang the Librarian Hard.
Campus Lust.
Chained, Whipped Librarians
Eager Beaver Librarian.
Eager to Spread Librarian.
Eager Young Librarian.
First Rear Entry.
Helpful Head Librarian.
Horny Balling Librarian.
Horny Hot Librarian.
Horny Licking Librarian.
Horny Peeping Librarian
Hot Bed Librarian.
Hot, Licked Librarian.
Hot Loving Librarian.
Hot Mouth Librarian.
Hot Pants Librarian.
Hot to Trot Librarian.
The Hottest Librarian
In Heat Librarian
Lash the Librarian!
A Librarian Enslaved.
The Librarian Gets Hot.
Librarian in Bondage.
Librarian in Chains.
The Librarian Licks Big Ones
The Librarian Loves It
The Librarian Loves to Lick.
The Librarian Slave.
The Librarian With the Hots.
The Librarian's Boys.
The Librarian's Hot Fun.
The Librarian's Hot Lips.
The Librarian's Hot Urges.
A Librarian's Training.
Licking the Librarian.
Line Up for the Librarian.
Naughty Voyeur Librarian.
Nympho Librarian.
The Oral Librarian.
Overeager Librarian.
Raped and Roped Librarian.
Sally - Sexy Librarian.
Sex Behind the Stacks.
Three-way with the Librarian.
What a Librarian!

Love and Lust - A Sex Journal, by Susie Bright

Filling in one of those year-end “best book I’ve read” surveys, I found myself in a peculiar position - knowing exactly what my favorite book is, but never having actually read, or even seen, a complete copy. And by “complete,” I mean with every page filled with words (and illustrations), and every word meaning the world to its author.

Susie Bright’s Love and Lust: A Sex Journal is one of the gifts that appeared for my birthday this year, and it’s been by my bedside ever since. A lot of it has been filled in as well, with the random thoughts and memories that a journal invites. But I really don’t care about my copy. I want to read yours. And yours. And yours. And you over there/ Yours, too.

Sexual confessions are fascinating, but all the more so when they’re written without any thought for some future audience. Because who, aside from the occasional megalomaniacal “man (or woman) of letters,” would ever keep a diary with the intent of it some day being published? And even they would probably draw the line at going to town with this one.

Have you ever had sex with a person you didn’t know at all - a stranger?

What’s the fantasy that would be most likely to arouse you [when you’re not]?

What’s a sexual secret you’ve never shared with anyone?

The format is simple; every page or thereabouts is headed with a question. And the rest of the page is blank, for you to fill in as you wish.

What kind of sex do you think you’ll never like very much?

What’s the sexiest thing to eat or drink before bed?

Okay, I’ve read all the reviews of this book on Amazon, and very insightful they are too, discussing all the ways this book might open your mind to the true sexual being that lives beneath your exterior. How you will reveal hidden depths and uncover secret fantasies. All of which is very honorable, and I’m sure you’re all itching to make such discoveries about yourself. And others.

Do you know anything about the sexual history of any of your family members?

For me, though, this book’s allure would be what you might discover about total strangers, were you to get your hands on their private versions of the book. I don’t know how many copies this book sold... right now, it’s Amazon ranking is 721,118, for what that’s worth. But, just so we have a number to play with, let’s say there’s around eight thousand copies out there, of which three-quarters were started and around half that were completed. That would mean there’s three thousand editions of this book sitting out there, and every single one of them is different.

Imagine that! Three thousand completely unique, handwritten stories, and every word in them tells a truth that the author never dreamed would be read by someone else. Well, almost every word.

Write three sexual confessions about yourself. Make two of them true and one of them a lie.

It’s a voyeur’s utopia, a pervert’s paradise, and quite possibly the greatest erotic treasure trove in existence today. The greatest, and the most unobtainable, because even if the author of every edition was a blogger, whose life is lived so lividly on me-me-me.com (updated daily, so my stalkers don’t feel lonely), still there will be secrets that only they know. And which would only be shared here.

Are there any sex words you won’t say?

What was the most embarrassing, stupid moment in your early sex life?

The journal is not perfect. More than a handful of questions could have been lifted from a women’s magazine quiz page, and a few of them would be more suited to one of those bumper books of word games and brain teasers that gather dust in the drug store. I neither know nor care what my favorite sexual quotations might be... or does “fuck, you’re a dirty girl!” count?

But there’s no rule that says you have to take the questions literally, so long as you take your answers to heart, because nobody’s going to see what you wrote unless you ever choose to let them.

So, in the spirit of full disclosure, nine questions from the diary are scattered through this posting. And I will now give you the answers. In no particular order, of course....

The human tripod.
I honestly didn’t know what to do next!
Armpits
Drew Barrymore.
Cock.
I always come from anal, I have at least two blowjob dreams a month and I once masturbated with my mom’s vibrator.
Not that I can think of.
Regularly
More than they realize!

A Night at the Ace

It’s one for the money.... The music was loud but the room was even louder, two hundred voices raised to make themselves heard and setting up a wall of sound that was almost physical, buffeting you the moment you squeezed through the front door. The air was thick too, with cigarette smoke and sweat, but something else too, the smell of the beach that was in everyone’s clothes, sea air and seagulls, cheap deck chairs and ice cream, pumped up adrenalin and the tang of spilled blood.

“Held him down and smashed his fucking face in.”

“Cracked him round the head with a piece of fucking driftwood.”

“He looked like he’d gone twenty rounds with Cassius Clay.”

“Fucking Mods.”

We’d been back from Brighton for less than an hour and already the legends were beginning to grow. By tomorrow, a handful of parka-clad pansies with bright bloodied noses would have become a slaughter of Somme-like proportions. But we bathed in our triumph regardless, and the victory party was just getting started.

Come on little baby, let's move it and a-groove it.... Vintage Cliff on the jukebox, and the first girls had already wriggled out of their shirts, to dance giggling and topless beneath unzipped leather jackets. A few guys followed suit and my hand brushed tight stomachs as I pushed through the crowd, to be brushed back by hands that did not know who I was, but didn’t especially care. My eyes were caught by liquid brown, the guy we called Buddy because that’s all he ever played, and he laughed as he lifted me up off my feet, till I popped like a cork above the heads of the crowd.

Laughing back, I wrapped my arms round his neck, my fingernails digging the hot flesh of his back, and he twirled me round a couple of times before depositing me back on the ground. I clung to him still and his hands cupped my breasts, still covered by the shirt that I’d slept in last night. I broke my own grip and pulled the fabric up; my nipples grazed his palms and he squeezed as he kissed me, his tongue driving in like his bike through that cafe, sending seniors screaming and flying out the door, but my tongue fought back, coiling round his as I pulled his head down to my height.

If you knew Peggy Sue.... My body fell back against whoever stood behind me, and other hands cradled me as Buddy pressed against me, kneading my ass through my tired, dirty Levis. I broke the kiss to breathe and Buddy bit my neck... the bastard, how did he know to do that then? My legs liquified and I scrabbled for balance, my hand hooked the buckle of his BSA belt and I tugged just enough to squeeze fingers inside.

Now it was his turn to groan as my nail grazed hot flesh, and I felt him suck his stomach in to give me more room to maneuver, fishing around inside his tight pants, seizing his cock as it hung halfway hard, and drawing it up to point at the sky. Then I flattened my palm and started to rub, feeling him swelling and growing beneath me. I matched my rhythm to the pounding of the jukebox... be-bop-a-lula, up down faster, my wrist against the helmet that spread against my pulsebeat, my middle finger at his balls, feeling great and fiery as Jerry Lee roared out. Goodness gracious....

Buddy bit my ear and I bit him back, clinging to the flesh of his neck, tattooing a lovebite into his throat and he pinched my nipples in response, as those other hands strayed between my legs to my cunt and started to rub through the seam of my jeans. I thought of the surf that crashed on the beach, and it felt like those same tides were flooding my crotch. Without thinking I ground my hips hard against those fingers and knowing that no-one would be letting me fall, I chanced reaching out with my other, free hand, returning the favor against coarse denim and fly.

My hands moved in unison, my cunt grinding greedy, sucking Buddy’s tongue till I thought my jaw was breaking, then turning as other lips fell on my face, and licking the skin that brushed unshaven against my cheek. Then a cry and a splash of thick burning wet as Buddy’s legs buckled and he came against my hand, his cum splashing up to the sleeve of my leather, and I pulled my arm out from the grip of his pants, smearing his orgasm across his bare stomach, then raising my hand to my mouth for a taste of what remained... the taste that sent me hurtling over the edge, and as I came the guy behind me seemed to melt into my grip and I was squeezing sodden denim over a pumping, pulsing bulge.

Buddy was still looking at me, grinning sharp teeth as he lit a cigarette... handed it to me then lit one for himself. Since my baby left me.... I reached up on tiptoe and kissed his lips softly, the tang of his cum still sharp on my own, and I set my eyes once again on the bar at the back. I had a long way to go before I got there, and a lot of hot bodies to push through till I reached it.

Tall and dark, tattooed and DA-ed, in grease-stained denims, a body half tumbled, half threw himself in my path, his hands on my shoulders to break his fake fall as his mouth opened wide to suck on my tit. My head twisted round to where I’d left Buddy, and that might have been his head I saw tipping backwards, as a slender beehived shape knelt at his feet. Good luck to her, I giggled, if he has any strength left. And I dropped to my knees as well, tearing at the trousers that were thrusting out at eye level.

I still wanted that drink.