Happy New Year!

Happy New Year!

I found and loved this on my friend Three Spelling Mistakes' never less than fun fun blog.

But the real reason I was there was... to find THIS. Proof that not all censorship is performed by the humorless.


Very funny censored porn brought to you by PornHub

HAPPY NEW YEAR, EVERYONE!

and let us all give thanks for....

For the little pleasures.........

for anticipation....

for sensations

and for temptations.....

HAPPY THANKSGIVING, EVERYONE!!!!!!!

the new 12 Days of Christmas update

Just so you all know... it's complete! Thanks to Veritas for going where I did not...

The Twelve Days of Christmas

The new 12 Days of Christmas

When I first posted this last week... well, I'll be honest, I ran out of energy after seven days. But then my friend Veritas got hold of it and dashed out another three days for me. So here, brought over from the No Words Spoken blog, are the full twelve days of Christmas... Enjoy!


On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…
A hot and steaming facial!
And I wasn’t even expecting it
I thought we were just petting
I wasn’t even touching it
But suddenly he rose up
Gave out a mighty cry
And it splashed across my cheeks and lips
And dripped down from my eye

On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…
The best head that I’ve ever had
He started slow and teasing
Just lapping at my pussy lips
The tension stopped me breathing
I felt each delicate shift he made
Felt that loving tongue
Flicking wildly at my screaming clit
Oh God, I’m gonna cum!

On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
Eight sweet inches of rock hard cock
Slipped between my legs
Teased me with an inch or two
He likes to hear me beg
At first I tried to bite my lip
But he kept on poking faster
Until I couldn’t help myself
“Just ram it in, you bastard!”

On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
A tit fuck like you won’t believe
So hot against my breasts
I held them tight against his cock
Felt his balls scraping my chest
Saw his face screw up with pleasure
Felt his rhythm quicken
Then splashing hot against my neck
And his cock was ripe for licking

On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
A hot cock up my back passage
On the kitchen table
He asked me how much I could take
I said “all that you are able’
I felt my tight flesh clinging to him
While his fingers fucked my cunt
And when we came hard both together
It felt better than up front

On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
The chance to suck him long and slow
To relish every inch
To take him deep inside my throat
To feel my tonsils pinch
His helmet, grasp it, tease the tip
I love to suck him off
And when he came like a runaway train
I swallowed every drop

On the seventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
A few days rest! And fuck, I needed them.!

*********************************************************
And the remainder of the song... the bits I didn't write, supplied by my friend Veritas....

On the seventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me,
Her wrists bound discretely in leather and fur,
Crossed demurely as if to hide,
Her soft, silken and smoothed delights,
Onto my face arose,
A wry grin,
Oh' secretly wicked girl,
Your treats are plain to see,
As is your Honey glistening for me....

On the eighth day of Christmas my true love gave to me,
Eight inches of heel, platforms and a naughty feel,
Slowly straddling me with a tiny smile
Eyes flashing, as she whispers,
“Come do me stud, for a good long while.....”
Thong slipped aside, I fondle and slip inside,
Eighty tiny mewls and she shuddered and sighed.

On the ninth day of Christmas my true love gave to me,
Nine tails o' cat as she kneels for a gentle lashing,
Gentle mewling with each soft caress soon reaches my ears,
Nine tails o' cat, laid softly with but a sting,
Her pant and purr allay my fears,
Breathlessly she betrays her secret fetish
The kiss of the lash she so doth relish,
Offered to her she kisses hungrily the handle,
As I press her back my cock erect, hers to fondle,
Before beginning her deep and ardent thrusting.

On the tenth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
Ten tiny toes,
Clad in sheer hosiery,
Nails all a glitter, sprinkled red, silver, gold and pink,
She slid them slowly along my cock,
She is, after all a bit of a kink,
"Baby," she cooed, "my world you rock"
So much to my surprise when she swiveled and settled,
Her wet petals and folds, so deliciously presented,
For a lick, a kiss and an oh so slow fondle,
Her silken sheathed toes wrapped astraddle my head,
Her body naked and pressing me down onto the bed,
Her warm breath caressing my cock and ball bundle,
“Merry Christmas, my stud,” She said with a smile,
Then swallowed me whole and bobbed for quite awhile,
My own tongue drifted,
tween folds and honey hooded,
Lingering, exploring, probing, "So good..."
She whispered I'm quite gifted,
As she shimmied and settle well down on my tongue,
her toes massaging me as I gave her head,
“You, my Sir, are quite well hung,”
She said with a breathless smile as she licked,
“I do so hope soon to be dicked.”

On the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
Eleven strokes to harden my cock,
She said with a smile,
As she jacked me for a while,
“I know you will do me oh so well....”
“I want you in me deep and slow, can't you tell?”
I groaned under her touch and managed a reply,
“Soon my anxious babe,”
“I'll bind you, each limb, with a black silken tie,”
“And fill you then flood you with that you so crave...”

On the twelfth day of ChristmasS, my true love gave to me,
Twelve Dreams come true,
Each a special treasure,
Each desire she said, “Just for you...”
She whisper'd softly, Of my love you should be sure,”
Whether with a glimpse of stocking and heel,
Or just a seductive fondle and a good feel,
She laughed with a sparkling smile,
“You can take me now, or in a while,”
“Get your camera, I'll pose,”
“be your New Year's delight”
Then she spread out sleek like a cat,
My cock long past phat,
Slipping home with a steady thrust,
She purred and mewled with happy lust,
“Merry Christmas, stud...”
She panted as I rubbed her hooded budd,
“And Happy New Year back my erotic friend,”
I growled with a final shudder,
“With your arms round me, no one can sunder,”
“And 'tis here, kissing your lips, I'll dally the new year to spend ….”

The Ghost of Christmas Parties Past

Found this pic on Blue-eyed Vixen's ever-wonderful blog. Funnily enough, I remember a few parties along the lines of this one.

A Christmas Carol

A HOLIDAY CAROL
Okay, there’s definitely some wishful thinking going on in this one. Day four, to be precise. I don’t have the biggest tits in the world, and they were a lot smaller when I was at college. My boyfriend of the time was desperate to try a tit fuck,and he wasn’t going to take no for an answer, so I was lying there trying to hold his cock between these two tiny breasts, and he was pounding away… and it wasn’t my fault he didn’t realize he was rubbing himself against my watchband, and actually scraping the skin off the side of his cock. He was hurting for days! And no, he didn’t even want me to kiss it better.

On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…
A hot and steaming facial!
And I wasn’t even expecting it
I thought we were just petting
I wasn’t even touching it
But suddenly he rose up
Gave out a mighty cry
And it splashed across my cheeks and lips
And dripped down from my eye

On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…
The best head that I’ve ever had
He started slow and teasing
Just lapping at my pussy lips
The tension stopped me breathing
I felt each delicate shift he made
Felt that loving tongue
Flicking wildly at my screaming clit
Oh God, I’m gonna cum!

On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
Eight sweet inches of rock hard cock
Slipped between my legs
Teased me with an inch or two
He likes to hear me beg
At first I tried to bite my lip
But he kept on poking faster
Until I couldn’t help myself
“Just ram it in, you bastard!”

On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
A tit fuck like you won’t believe
So hot against my breasts
I held them tight against his cock
Felt his balls scraping my chest
Saw his face screw up with pleasure
Felt his rhythm quicken
Then splashing hot against my neck
And his cock was ripe for licking

On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
A hot cock up my back passage
On the kitchen table
He asked me how much I could take
I said “all that you are able’
I felt my tight flesh clinging to him
While his fingers fucked my cunt
And when we came hard both together
It felt better than up front

On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
The chance to suck him long and slow
To relish every inch
To take him deep inside my throat
To feel my tonsils pinch
His helmet, grasp it, tease the tip
I love to suck him off
And when he came like a runaway train
I swallowed every drop

On the seventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
A few days rest! And fuck, I needed them.!

Happy Holidays Everyone!

HAPPY HOLIDAYS... MERRY CHRISTMAS... JINGLE BELLS... AND ALL THAT GOOD STUFF...

TO EVERYONE!

THANKS FOR A WONDERFUL YEAR - AND HERE'S TO AN EVEN BETTER NEW ONE

XXXX

On the somethingth day of Christmas...

It's the sheer casual appearance of the photo that appeals, the snapshot like qualities... so many so-called she-male photos are either obviously posed or even more obviously faked. But this one, fired off on what could have been an i-Phone, with nobody trying to look hot or sexy - well, it's just so matter of fact that it really ought to be real. I hope it is, anyway,

Black Friday!

TOP FLOOR… GARDEN FURNISHINGS, SPORTING EQUIPMENT
I saw her when I stepped out through the elevator doors
She stood there looking radiant, just like Drew Barrymore
Really hot and sexy in a downhome sort of way
The girl next door you wish would come for something more than play
I couldn’t help my staring as she glided down the aisle
I wondered what it might take to turn on her brightest smile
I wondered what she looks like when she’s really having fun?
I wondered what she looks like when she’s about to come

FOURTH FLOOR – KITCHEN WARE, BATHROOM ACCESSORIES
I saw her look at toasters, and idly scan the pots
I paused to take my jacket off, I’ve never felt so hot
I felt confused; I didn’t ever act like this round chicks
I tried it out at college, but I’ve always preferred pricks
But I felt my puss get moister every time she looked my way
My panties growing damper as I wondered what I’d say
I wondered if she’d ever guess she was having this effect?
I wondered what she tasted like when she was soaking wet?

THIRD FLOOR – BEDDING AND BEDROOM FURNITURE
I saw her look at mattresses; I felt like I should shout
“Hey wait for me!”; the two of us could give it some work out!
The lighting in this display room illuminates her splendor
Her backlit dress was transluscent, her legs looked long and slender
I wondered what they’d feel like, pressed against my crack
I wondered what they’d feel like, wrapped around my back
I wondered what they’d taste like as I licked up from her feet
I longed to feel her silky thighs pressed against my cheeks

SECOND FLOOR – LADIES KNITWEAR AND FASHION
I saw her as the escalator swept me to the bottom
She was standing by a looking glass, trying a hot top on
I wanted to rush over, “you look so great in it!”
I watched her as she straightened it; my God, she has great tits
I wondered what they’d feel like cradled in my palms
Her nipples firm against my flesh, as she writhed in my arms
I’d shower her with kisses as she whispered “now you’re mine”
And pushed her crotch against me and began to slowly grind

FIRST FLOOR – PERFUMERY AND ACCESSORIES
I saw her in the purses aisle, where there isn’t that much room
I felt my legs grow weaker as I breathed in her perfume
I could barely speak; “excuse me,” I whispered as I passed
My heart was pounding loudly as my hand brushed her firm ass
I didn’t think she’d notice as I paused and briefly lingered
Let my pores breathe in her beauty through my gently questing fingers
Then she turned around to look at me as she felt me touch her coat
She turned around and smiled at me as they softly, softly stroked

BASEMENT LEVEL – LADIES LINGERIE
I saw her in the changing room with a pile of bras and panties
She beckoned me, said “do you think that this pair are too scanty?”
I went to speak and then she lunged, a hard kiss on the lips
Pulled me inside the changing room, her hands tight on my hips
Her tongue devoured my mouth, while her hand explored my breasts
Then she dropped down to her knees and she sucked out all my breath
My panties down in one swift move, her tongue upon my clit
I couldn’t last! I came so fast! And she lapped up all of it

I’m on my back, I lick her crack – oh God, I see a camera!
She laughed “it’s just security, watching while I bang ya
“It’s the day after Thanksgiving, let’s give the boys a treat”
I smiled and waved up at the lens, then began to gently eat
This goddess of the shopping mall, this Queen of Sears and Penny’s
This screaming, squirting Princess who’s now gasping my name! “Jenny!”
Her cries subside, she kisses me, then smiles and softly says
“I love the sales, let’s meet next year? Same time and same place”

Giving thanks for Thanksgiving

I wanted turkey
He offered me cock
I wanted stuffing
He said, “babe, no prob”
I want some green beans
I got meat, two veg
I said “lay the table”
He laid me instead
-
I want sweet potatoes
“That’s what I yam”
I asked for some cream
“Hey, woman! hot damn!”
I wanted cranberries
He gave me white sauce
I begged him “hang on”
Then he served second course
-
“Let me finish this mouthful!”
But he just thrust in more
I said “let me swallow!”
He asked “are you sure?”
And out at the table
The family clucked
While the butler and I
So languorously fucked

A Thanksgiving Thought...

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“Barely legal…”

“But dressed to impress all the same…”

“Cool outfit.”

Yeah, right. Most families spend Thanksgiving slouched around the dining table passing wind. Mine spend it sprawled around a photo album, passing comment, and while I can’t say I’ve ever contributed much to the conversation… I’ve certainly never brought one of my own albums along for inspection… it’s hard not to get sucked into the occasion. Especially when cousin Margie is around, with half your own teenaged years in glowing Kodachrome.

Gary, her husband, tore his eyes away from the television. “Hey, I remember that outfit,” he laughed. And, a little later, as we made our way into the dining room to eat, he sidled up to me again. “I remember what happened to it, as well.”

I smiled. Well, he had a better memory than I did. “Really? It probably ended up in a charity store somewhere.”

“Yeah. And Monica Lewinsky bought it.”

It took me a moment, but… oh. My. God. Suddenly I remembered what had happened to it, too, and the only saving grace, as my face turned cranberry color, was that he and Margie barely knew one another at the time. Whereas he and I had been study hall buddies back in High School, and still occasionally came across one another in town. Literally, as it turned out.

Barely legal, but dressed to impress. I was working my way through my freshman year at college, shut up in a downtown insurance brokers, mindlessly typing my way through the reams of documentation that the most innocent fender-bender spontaneously created, and wishing every day away, not because I had anything to do at night, but because I hated that job with a passion. So when Gary turned up in the office one day, a motorcycle messenger who viewed his job with only marginally more urgency than I viewed mine, it wasn’t exactly a wrench to put my thoughts of premiums and deductibles to one side, and catch up on what we’d been doing since graduation.

Which took all of thirty seconds, so we moved on to more engrossing topics and, by the time my boss came out to see how I was getting on with the Harrison claim, we’d already set up a lunch date for the next day, and a gig for the weekend as well.

It was the gig where it happened. Shit, I don’t even remember the band we were seeing, one of those early Noughties alt rock whiners that would have one singalong hit and then disappear. I do know that we were dancing all evening, though, and I also know – ah, but I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s go back to the beginning of the night.

We met outside the club. It’s not there anymore, the building was razed about five years ago, to make way for another one, all ugly and new. Lunch had gone well, but it was tentative and nervous; maybe it was the crowd and the noise in the bar, but our conversation was hesitant, punctuated with so many “sorry, I didn’t hear you”s that it was almost a relief to go back to work. There wouldn’t be any better opportunities for conversation tonight, of course, but that didn’t seem to matter so much. Different surroundings, different expectations.

And a very different Gary. At school, he stuck to T-shirts and jeans, at work he was encased in his motorcycle leathers. Tonight, he could have stepped out of an MTV video, looking so good that I felt positively dowdy alongside him. But he was the same Gary underneath it all, and as we took up our positions at the front of the dance floor, and the crowd began to push in around us, I realized that I was going to get to know a lot more about Gary’s “underneath” than I’d expected. Stretch-jeans never left much to the imagination when you looked at them. They leave even less when their owner is wedged against your ass.

The band came onstage, the crowd started moving, and Gary, to put it bluntly, started growing. At first I thought it was my imagination; that I was focusing so much on the bulge that was pressing against me that even the slightest motion set my mind in motion. But no, it was definitely bigger, firmer, warmer. And the crowd was so tight around us that he couldn’t have moved away from me if he’d wanted to.

I wondered what was going through his mind? It’s easy to think that once the blood starts its pumping, a guy loses all sense of decorum and shame, and just lets his lust take control. But on a second date with a girl who he’d never even kissed before? Hmmm… well, maybe there was something I could do about that. With a hand on his shoulder to help keep my balance, I stood up on tiptoes, turned my head slightly, and brushed his cheek with my lips.

I was aiming for his mouth, but feigning towards his ear; that way, if he said anything, I could always claim I was trying to whisper something. But, if I shocked him, he didn’t show it; with one hand on my waist (and the other still clutching his beer), he pulled me close again and this time our mouths did meet, as tongues entwined and he was holding me so tight that the next time his bulge moved, there was no doubting what he was thinking. Because it did move, straining against the fabric of his pants. Hell, that couldn’t feel comfortable, could it?

One song ended, and we broke our kiss to applaud. Then I lowered my hands to my side and I touched it. I jumped, he… I don’t know what he did, but the back of my hand was on his cock, and I wondered how big the damned thing was, because it was pressing against my hip as well.

He leaned in and kissed me again, and I almost shifted my position to put my arm around him. Almost. But I didn’t want to move my hand. Well, not that far, anyway. Instead, I bent my wrist just enough that now it was my palm that was against his dick and, if I inched my fingers just enough, I could slip them over his waistband as well. Over and behind. Now all he had to do was take just a tiny step backwards and I’d be there.

Except he didn’t. Maybe he couldn’t. The crowd was jammed around us, after all. My fingers strained against the so-tight fabric, and I felt one fingernail make contact. I wriggled it a little, felt him stirring in response. But I could go no further. There was just one thing for it. I extracted my hand and unbuttoned his pants, squeezed his cock and then raised my fingers to my mouth. His eyes never left my face the whole time.

“Do you want to step outside?” he whispered.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

We went out through the back door that was left open for smokers, and looked around. The alley led a few hundred yards in both directions… one way led to the street, the other to the parking lot of an apartment block. I took his hand and dragged him that way, paused as we reached a long row of skips, and then pushed him against the wall. I didn’t know how busy this stretch of emptiness might be at night, and I didn’t really want to find out. But I had a burning need that stretched from my pussy to my tonsils, and one of them was going to get drenched.

I knelt and tugged; his pants were still open and his hard cock slipped out without a thought. I swallowed it, and kept on swallowing, his helmet lodged in the back of my throat and every gulp I gave sent fresh shockwaves through his body… I know, because I could feel him twitch, hear him gasp.

I started to move, bobbing my head back and forth down his shaft; pausing occasionally to lick, nip and breathe. And then back to the main course, sucking him down, sucking him off, and sucking so much come out of his gorgeous cock that I never imagined there could be anything left by the time I let him fall from my lips.

But there was, one last blast, and you can guess where it went. Splash down the front of my favorite outfit… the one that I’d remember at a Thanksgiving Party years later. And the one that Gary remembered as well.

Ooops!

Remember Remember

The Fifth of November. I can't believe I spent twenty-odd years thinking of it as Just Another Day, when across the ocean, it's the excuse for all manner of incendiary wildness - think July 4, Thanksgiving and Columbus Day all rolled into one, with bonfires instead of marching bands, baked potato instead of turkey, and a cellarful of conspirators instead of a boatload of very lost explorers.

But then I watched V For Vendetta - my choice for the best movie of the past however-many years, and one that I now religously worship once a year, on... the Fifth of November.

So Happy Guy Fawkes Day to all my UK readers, and to the rest of the world... you don't know what you're missing.

Samhain Salutations!

I thought we'd start our round up with a vampire... those are fangs on either side of her mouth, aren't they?

Followed by a scene that you probably don't see played out in church very often. At least, not by the Anglicans.

And, finally, one which is just plain silly. Happy Halloween, everyone!

Jenny's St Valentine's Day Mess-acre

Just a bit of seasonal fun. Except I don’t think I was laughing so hard at the time!

The flowers were dead, and the card misdelivered
The restaurant screwed up so we didn’t get dinner
When the bar asked for ID, I’d forgotten my purse
So why did he say things couldn’t get worse?

“Wanna go back to my place?”
I asked; he said yes
At least there was one thing
That couldn’t get messed
And we just couldn’t wait
Till we got up the stairs
I dropped to my knees
Sucked his cock then and there

He leaned on the wall
His hips gently grinding
I couldn’t believe
All the flavors I’m finding
Then I paused… shit! Goddamit!
He was so nearly there
But someone else in the building
Was coming downstairs

Victoria’s Secret sold him the wrong size
And 50 First Dates was scratched on both sides
He needed to pee, and his voice sounded terse
When he said surely things just couldn’t get worse?

We reached my apartment
I pushed him in quick
I had unfinished business
With a thick, spit-slicked prick
I rubbed his firm helmet
All over my face
Felt his sweet precum smearing
I came at the taste

I said “you’re delicious!
“My favorite supper”
Then my throat closed around him
And he slipped in like butter
But when he reached for my pussy
And I felt his tongue kneading
“Oh shit, man! I’m early!
“I’ve just started bleeding.”

We gave up! We cuddled. It was one of those days
When things just get worse whatever you say
I looked for some respite once we got into bed
But I just called him Johnny…
…when I know his name’s Fred

Jenny's St Valentine's Blogmas

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Hello to everybody who's only just found this blog, and lots of love to everyone who's going to stick around and read. I'm going to be updating it as often as I can, with new true stories, confessions and thoughts, the occasional verse and pictures and more. And don't forget, if you want to read even more, you can visit my website, or even buy a copy of my book, The First Time & 59 Other Magical Minutes.

You can also find me over at eroticstories.com, where I've been publishing for almost three years, and where I am currently ranked #31 in the Top 100 authors chart - the highest rated "poet" in the site's history.

In the meantime, here's a few lines for that Valentine’s card that... oops! You almost forgot to buy!

WHAT DOES IT TASTE LIKE?

It tastes like the very first time that I met you
It tastes like the way that I saw your eyes melt
It tastes like the thoughts that passed through my mind
It tastes the same way as I hope that it felt
-
It tastes of the feelings that course through my pussy
It tastes like the sweetest depths of your soul
It tastes like I wish I could feel all the time
It tastes of the pre-come that leaks from your hole
-
It tastes of the strength that stretches me wider
It tastes of the thickness that makes my jaw ache
It tastes of the lengths I would swallow to thrill you
It takes of the floods that I lovingly take
-
It takes of hard work, tastes of sweat, tastes so salty
It tastes of the gift that your hot hard cock brings
It tastes of my heart as it pounds with excitement
It tastes of the rush of my blood as it sings
-
It tastes of each time that you fucked me or licked me
It tastes of each time that you’ve slept when we’re done
It tastes of our past and it tastes of our future
It tastes of the cries that you make when it comes
-
And when I think of the faces that other girls pull
When they tell me the things they won’t do
They won’t swallow their lover? Well, I’m not surprised!
Because no other man’s semen could taste just like you