I’ll call it a vagina and probe it by the book. I’ll call it a cunt and tongue deep till I’m buried. Call it a vulva, it’s a fruit, a peach. A muff: I’ll be young and grateful and eager to please. And pussy, oh pussy: you’ll make me into a green-eyed cat.
She’d shaved it bare, making it like she likes it the best. She’d worn nothing under her skirt, and she’d boarded a bus to be fondled. Then she got home, and she was pressing it into my hip, an insistent mound of flesh, her eyes unfocused with lust. In these situations you quickly discover that beneath that skirt she’s not wearing underwear. I got rid of the skirt and got her down on the bed. She squirmed like a woman possessed by demons, but I held her still until the demon leapt from her into my tongue. Continue reading Licking Pussy–That is All: the result of The Bus Experiment
Dear Mr. X,
I love shaving my pussy.
Isn’t that a good start? I love the cool feel of shaving cream on my pussy, and the slight tingling of the magic herbal formula, or whatever it is. I love the twinge of fear I feel when I put the blade to my skin – it always leaves me breathless for a moment. And then I love sliding my free fingers over the folds of skin there, and spreading the skin for the blade. Then, with every swoop of the razor, I see some other pussy slowly revealed, pale and bare and lickable. How did you guess that this is one of my ultimate turn-ons? Have you taken up residence in my libido, Mr. X (it’s quite spacious, so don’t get lost wandering from room to room)? I mean, shaving my pussy turns me on so much that I’ve sometimes asked my husband to watch me doing it. You’ll be pleased to know that I’ve always found him to be suitably observant. Now, when I get the chance, I like to watch him shaving his face in the mirror in the morning. This never fails to get me wet. Razors are like sex toys for me. It’s just one of those things. Continue reading Shaven pussy, wandering newspaper: her response to The Bus Experiment
Dear Magnificently Misbehaving Mistress,
What are we going to do with you? Part of me hopes that I’ve restored erotic order and that you’ll have remembered that you have a normal human name, but that I am Mr. X. A bigger part of me hopes that you will be as rebellious as ever and continue making chaos out of order. Most of me wants to see you in ever-intensifying situations, wants to push your limits, wants to see you repeatedly transformed. I intend to show no mercy, my captivating one. I intend to lust after you more fervently than ever, even if from a distance, and I intend to dare you towards new lusts. Do you understand? You want me to repeat it? How about a little spank? Enough of the questions. I just hope you’re smiling.
So it’s transportation that turns you on…. I can do transportation, but if you’re going to do transportation (apart from an eventual rendezvous in a taxi, whose story I await with relish), I want you to make it public transportation. You’ve proven to be quite the little exhibitionist, after all, and so I thought I’d oblige. Continue reading The Bus Experiment