May 5th, 2009 by Debra
We are. We’re going to Hedonism 2 in Negril Jamaica later this year. While shopping for airfare, I found this link in a travel magazine yesterday. Seems like a pretty good place to check air pricing and schedules. You can’t purchase from the site, but it is a good tool for making sure you’re getting the best possible deal.
The link is:
April 9th, 2009 by Debra
The Sex Blogger Debra is going back to Hedo 2 this December! Stay tuned for the dates. Maybe you could join me?
November 28th, 2008 by Debra
My man and I are on a passenger train or bus; the type with passenger seats that face each other in groups of two, suitable for four people in each section. We enter the train and find an open bench opposite a man traveling alone. He smiles and we greet each other before settling into our seats and falling into polite silence so he can return to his book. I watch him. He is pretending to read now, as he has become increasingly interested in my bare legs, tanned a perfect bronze. He tries not to stare, but he unsuccessful and his attention causes a reaction in me. My panties grow increasingly wet. My man has taken notice and is squirming in his seat, his breath growing slow and heavy. My legs open slightly, as I know my man will respond by sliding his hand up my skirt to confirm my eager response. His finger rolls between my lips and he gives me a tug before gripping the crotch of my panties and pulling them down and off over my stilettos. Game on.
Our travel mate lets out a quiet moan and slides his book across the seat as he leans back to watch openly. He is smiling and nodding, his eyes fixed between my legs, my eyes fixed on the growing bulge in his pants. I am stroking my man’s cock through his jeans with one hand, toying with my nipples with the other. My man is about to burst and begs me to free his erection by lifting his hips against my busy fingers. Again our travel mate lets out a deep breathy moan at the sight of such a lovely cock and the precum dripping from his tip. This is almost too much for me, too, and I give up resistance when my man places a hand on each of my knees and opens my legs wide for all to see. My cunt is throbbing; my juices dripping already down my slit and the slight curve of my ass. We three sit perfectly still, looking, taking it in, enjoying the moment and the exposure. I want to stay like this, my cunt fully exposed, my legs open as wide as I can open them, my man’s cock in my hand, slowly stroking his hot flesh. Our travel mates eyes glaze over and his breathing grows louder as he takes us in, watching me stroke, watching my fingers reach down and graze my man’s balls and behind, watching his response as he opens his legs wider and slides down in his seat to allow me better access to his hungry ass and aching cock.
I have to move. I’m going to explode. As I lean over to slide my man’s dripping member between my lips I balance by placing one heeled foot on our travel mate’s groin. My heel slides easily between his ass cheeks and I lift it gently as if penetrating him. He wiggles into my shoe, pushes hard against my foot and rocks while he strokes my leg the way he would stroke his cock. Jesus. Fuck. Fuck.
I hate to stop but if I want my man to hold out any longer I know I have to remove his cock from the back of my throat. I can taste his cum when he presses my head hard against his balls. I know what I want and I am going to have it. I look up at the stranger and command him to show me his cock. “Pants around your ankles, ” I tell him and he smiles, moving quickly. His cock bounces free. He is cut, long, and twitching in the air. I move quickly to my feet and spread my legs wide as I bend over my man’s cock once again. My ass and pussy are in his face, his hands go to his cock and his mouth up close where he can breath in my scent. “Fuck her. She wants you to fuck her,” my man is practically breathless as he gives his instructions.
Our travel mate grabs my hips and slams me down hard on his exploding cock. I come immediately. Squeezing is cock head tight with each spasm. My ass opens wide again and again as he plunges his thumb inside so he can feel it. It is deep and hard and lasts forever. I feel him pumping his cum with every hard thrust and we are moaning so loud people are watching, the men around us wildly jacking their cocks inside their pants. Uh. Uh. Uh. I hear them coming one after the other.
My man is pushing up now, pressing farther into my throat, his hands pulling my hair, pounding my head faster and faster as he unloads again and again. So much cum I can’t swallow it all and it drips down my chin and onto my bouncing tits. We are spent but we cannot move. Both cocks stay inside me for as long as they can. My knees are shaking, my pussy dripping juice down my thighs.
I thank my lovers with a kiss and excuse myself, assuring them I will return. Just a few steps and I am in the next group of seats. While my lovers laugh and clean themselves off with the end of their shirts I lift my skirt once again. “Lick me clean,” I whisper to the man who is seated across the isle. And he does. He goes wild for it, shoving his face into my pussy and licking my thighs in big slurps while my lovers watch and cheer me on.
November 27th, 2008 by Debra
Speaking of naked men in aprons… a post from earlier this week reminded me of a fantasy I’ve had that I had almost forgotten. I saw a porn flick years ago that involved a couple of guys working in a shop wearing nothing but a work apron. You know the type, one of those aprons with big tools in the pockets. A woman walks in, of course, to issue a work order or some such thing and promptly puts the two hunks and their tools to work. God, I got allot of mileage out of that one!
Now my man falls into the “somewhat handy” category, as he knows his way around a toolbox and is up for most tasks, but probably isn’t overly motivated to tackle home projects unless he has to. He would, however, look most excellent in one of those work aprons. And he has some great boots to top off the little outfit. Christmas is coming, you know. Ms. Santa may just have some ideas about how to use his tool!
November 26th, 2008 by Debra
I’ve noticed a trend. A disproportionate number of the men I attract wear a uniform for
their day job and a good many carry guns, hoses, and various other gear. Soldiers, Pilots,
Firemen, Limo drivers, I’m certainly not complaining. It just strikes me as notable and I
should probably mention I like it. Very much.
My gorgeous husband is a pilot. He doesn’t fly for a living anymore, but he is a pilot in
every way. Risk-taker, highly intelligent, and exactly the man you want alongside when
you suddenly find yourself dodging shit from the proverbial fan. He hasn’t flown
professionally since we’ve been together, so I have yet to see him in his uniform. But I I
must say my heart skipped a beat when I came across his pilot’s hat while sorting through
old boxes in the basement. I immediately thought of our first kiss, which took place in the
King Air he was flying at the time. I kissed him, by the way. Best kiss I’ve ever had.
Before that day in the hangar, I can’t say I’d harbored significant fantasies about men in
uniform (with the exception of a police officer now and then), but I have to tell you it is
a treat when I meet a lover for the first time and he is already clad in a little outfit.
It does get my imagination rolling.
Personally, it has little to do with the uniform itself. I can’t say I am more or less
turned on by, say, a marine or a fireman. I am turned on by what the uniform represents,
at least to me. Now I have known some goofy fuckers who could not be redeemed uniform or
no uniform, but overall I associate uniformed men with a certain kind of attitude, one that
inevitably points toward sexy. Mall cops and buss boys excluded (sorry).
Generally speaking, the uniformed hunks I have known are adventurous, masculine, aggressive
types who enjoy a good adrenaline rush and choose careers which provide ample opportunity
for risk, danger, and anti-social behavior. The bad-boy syndrome is a beautiful thing and
it is no secret we women are hot, hot, hot for bad boys.
Here’s the other half of it for me; the part that makes me purr like a little kitten: In almost every instance the bad-boy in question must submit to a very strict command and culture in order to play out his
clandestine bent. From adherence to protocol and submission to authority all the way down
to his spit-shined shoes and starched trousers. So when I think about a big strapping man
who is bursting with testosterone and sporting man-gear I am definitely interested. But it
is the dichotomy that makes my panties wet. Knowing he is accustom to falling into
submission without doing so at the expense of his manliness means he’ll likely appreciate
my assertiveness and even more likely to give me a run for my money. Bring it on, Baby.
