In August 26, 2017 I again enlisted the help of CL personal ads…
I’m in Austin. It’s raining, raining, raining and home alone. I’ve pondered of a rainy day activity since I’m spending the day at home and maybe tomorrow as well.
Here is my game!
Take a pic of your cock and I will sketch a doodle of it and post it here.
Send your pic to carmelamig@yahoo.com. I’ll be waiting!
#1 Someone out there is feelin’ good!
#2 I fell in love with the head peeking out.
#3 I spent a lot of time trying to capture the head of this guy too!
I know you are all asking me for sketches of women. I get it. Why would you all want to look at pics of your own cocks. It certainly was a new experience receiving dick pics in this format. Usually they are received when not wanted. What I loved is how everyone is shaped so differently. The same, yet each cock is so personal. Thank you for those that dared to send them!!!!
This post was written Oc 9, 2017 and back when CL still had personal ads. It was a great place to do research. So sad to see it is gone….
My last post got me thinking about my teenage years. At age of eighteen I was at a party, fairly drunk and horny. It’s such a strong memory still of standing outside my friends house with a guy a couple of years older than me. He was leaning against the side of the house with my hands in his pants rubbing his hard cock. I watched his face as I stroked him, lost in pleasure and mesmerized by my fascination of his expression that was occurring because of me.
I am talented at this, I thought. This talent was received with mixed feelings back then and I earnestly earned the title or rathe a reputation as a Slut. I haven’t thought about that word much lately, but after a happy hour drink Friday night which can turn into a ‘let’s goof around on Craigslist’ mood I quickly was reunited with the term. Casual Encounters – Men looking for Women section could be called Men Behaving Badly. It seemed that particular Friday several men were looking for a Slut. Now, here in Austin the men are very educated. It got me thinking…what do mature and educated men mean by when the want a Slut. I decided in my happy buzz to pose the question on CL.
Sometimes I don’t know how to connect to her. She has been caressed and licked, flicked and slapped, licked and sucked, to be coaxed out of her cavern of slumber. Waiting to become erect to stretch to her most blossoming expression she can get stuck. It’s the mind. Let go, she tells her mind. Stop thinking. Breathe. You want this too. Right? Too feel her shudder underneath your tongue. That energy that flows from her region and onto you.
Can you get quiet with her? And still? A meditation of two people.
But why? Who cares? Rub her hard and fast. The cavern is wet right? She’s squirming and moaning right? Isn’t that enough? Isn’t that it?
No. Look at my eyes. Understand my breathing. Am I connected?
It’s so quiet when it is real. It’s so small, but with the mastery that you possess you can fill the room with it’s energy. That’s the power you want to share, to expose, and to possess. That’s the power that heals, that lasts and that makes a difference.
Go back and look at that doodle. See her as a Warrior. Stop trying to conquer and impress. You are in the honor of her presence. She holds the magic, you see. She is the gateway to your desire and the one that will awaken all the love and passion that will fulfill you. Go to her as humbly as possible.
Amrita is another way of describing squirting, it is the Sanscrit name for female ejaculation used amongst the Tantric community. We just call it squirting. (It’s always a rant with me that we reduce sex acts to degrading and lowly terms, but it is what it is. Perhaps there are no words to describe the true magic of sex.) So some people who were mostly likely Tantric folks somewhere created an Amrita – female ejaculation video to teach and spread the word to all us unfortunate men and women that have no clue. I learned about the Amrita video from my neighbor who I will cheerfully and deviously name ‘Moonlight Goddess’ because where I used to live people would rename themselves like that and…it is funny and kind of like…yeah, why not kind of thing.
So Moonlight Goddess was obsessed with learning how to do the illusive Amrita. During the time I was her neighbor I was married to someone that I was not in love with. I won’t go into why I was married to him, but it was a mistake that lasted ten years and I never wanted sex. So because of that for the most part Moonlight Goddess knew me as a woman that did not want sex, had nothing to say about it, and would shrug it off, “I don’t like sex.” (Oh, if you only knew me now!) When I finally left my husband and acquired a new boyfriend. With my sex life rejuvenated and ignited I began to share with my neighbor my new found pleasures of the flesh.
Yesterday I went back to this doodle to ad color and was moved to create these 70’s like dynamic lines behind the penis with sperm. For me, it gave the drawing a super power feeling. The moment a man cums is a powerful moment indeed. I feel like time stops. I want to write him a letter…
Dear Mr. Penis,
You have always been a double edged sword. The power that your hard cock brings, the presence and promise of masculine energy whether it be soft and nurturing or commanding and dominating is a wonderous sojourn. By placing my hands or mouth on you and sometimes my own body the universe seems to be felt and your owner dive into the depths of infinite pleasure. For that brief time your stature creates a private vortex, until….
Oh darling, Mr. Penis… As comes with that beautiful milky substance that pours out of that tiny hole at the top of your head, a most remarkable and memorable event, also marks the finish line. How did we race here? Who is driving? If I could only control you and decide when it is time for your slumber. Such mastery I have to possess to have my way with you! Perhaps as the new year is coming you can lay down your sword…
Here’s a story of a woman moving to a new city and her brief adventure as a cleaning woman.
She was new to the city and back in school after many years. Her hope was to study and move back to the small mountain town from where she came with a new career. She acquired her new apartment along with her boyfriend and everything seemed fine. Kind of fine but not really because the student loan money she had really was not enough to get by. Have you ever had one of those times in your life where everything had to be budgeted. Where a night out meant going to the groceries stories that offered wine tastings or food samplings? Well, it was like that.
I was inspired by this poem, particularly the last line. One day it occurred to me how hard you all work. Meetings, travel, get up and go, and I want to shake you and say…”Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”.
Keep scrolling down. I gave you a present at the end.
“The Summer Day” by Mary Oliver Who made the world? Who made the swan, and the black bear? Who made the grasshopper? This grasshopper, I mean- the one who has flung herself out of the grass, the one who is eating sugar out of my hand, who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down- who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes. Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face. Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away. I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass, how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields, which is what I have been doing all day. Tell me, what else should I have done? Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon? Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?
(Shhhhhh…..I changed the words for you, for us.)
Who made the world? Who made the vagina, and the clitoris? Who made the clitoris? This clitoris, I mean- the one who has flung herself out of the grass, the one who is eating sugar out of my hand, who is moving her hips back and forth as well as up and down- who is gazing at me with her enormous and complicated eyes. Now she lifts her light brown thighs and thoroughly washes my face. Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away. I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down into her earth, how to kneel down into that soil, how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through her fields, which is what I have been doing all day. Tell me, what else should I have done? Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon? Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?
The summer I was 12 years old I grew breasts and I got my first bra. All of a sudden I could not walk around without a bra unless I was in the privacy of my own bedroom, with other girls or wearing a swim suit. Every girl knows is coming so it’s not that strange, but it just seemed unfair that I had to protect others from my breasts. Going back to school that summer from being flat chested to a B cup got me a lot of unwanted attention. It’s was sixth grade. From age 12 onward I was harassed daily starting with the early comments “You grew over night!”. Even now I can be quite sensitive to men that jump to quick to commenting on my cleavage.
All this attention taught me to to dislike being large breasted. I robbed myself of receiving pleasure and enjoying them. I”m remembering now a moment in college. I was with two other women changing in the locker room before a modern dance class. The two women where girlfriends, lesbians. I was probably 20 and had not seen an ample variety of breasts yet. I did what most American women do and averted my eyes from looking at the other women’s clothes-less body.
“Wow. Your breasts are so beautiful” one of them said matter of factly. The lesbian did not stare at my breasts in lust, but envy. There is no delicate way to say this, but she had ugly breasts. Not just flat, but really flat like a pancake. One was quite larger than the other which made her nipples point in different directions. I was envious of her small chest. I told her how I would love to dance without strapping the down and fit into wear cute dresses. She told me how lucky I was to have perfect shaped nipples. So there you have it, a lesbian with ugly breasts was the first person to help me accept my body.
Fast forwarding to now I am in love with my breasts. I have a new hobby of collecting vintage slips. One of my new favorite things is to fill the slip in with my breasts and admire how they fill the soft fabric lined with lace. Being older I revel in the attention of my lover’s obsession over my breasts and nipples. In fact, my lover has to be into my breasts. I want to be chased around the house, felt up in the kitchen and ordered to not where my bra at home.
Besides the Lesbian Conversation my work with all of you really helped me transform those earlier years. You helped me discover my beauty and now when a pair of lips fall onto my nipple I go into elation. The more I get the more I want it. And do you know what else I love? Laying on my back with you straddling me with your hard cock. With a little oil you can slide in and out while I hold the left and right breast together. I love watching the tip of you emerge from my cleavage. You don’t know this, but as you get harder and start to pump me I can feel a delicious energy pouring out of you into my chest as if into my heart. It’s an orgasm for me and one of my favorites things.
One of the sexiest things ever, I mean ever and ever is to be undressed extremely slowly. It’s not that easy and I have myself teaching and guiding the process. Step by step, taking the pauses in, going so slow that by the time I’m undressed I’m a mess should be the goal. As the undresser I encourage you to think like an artist. Instead of thinking ‘I am taking her clothes’ take the perspective of ‘how will I make this woman look and feel so sexy that it makes me hard as a rock?’. In the end, it’s like an art project.
One thing I learned taking art classes in college is to step away from your project and assess. It’s not hard! Simply stop and pause, take a step or two back and look at your creation. Take it and imagine what the next step should be. Below I made a step by step outline of a general start for addressing a woman, or specifically me. Yay for me!
Have me sit down and begin to trace the neck of the dress avoiding contact to the skin. Slowly and gently tug at one side to slide it over the right shoulder. Be careful not to touch me, but let the fabric caress my skin while you expose my shoulder. Stop and admire.
Next go to my legs. Lift my dress just above my knees. You should be able to see knees jutting out from the fabric.
Going back up to the breast and shoulders will take some skill and patience. I want you to trace along the border of the fabric again, but this time allowing you finger to touch my skin. Take more risks and brush your hand over the fabric that is covering my breast. The trick is to tease and not go for cupping the full breast or diving onto the skin too quickly. Be patient creating your work of art.
Back to the legs and again slowly guide the fabric of my lacey dress up to the crotch. You might need to spread my legs a little wider. Do so with your voice as a command or use your hands spreading each leg apart at the knees. Stand back and admire.
Back to the breasts! This time I want you to expose one breast. Maybe play a little first by pinching my nipples through the fabric, caress my face and neck before you reach into my bra, cup my breast and then finally release it free. (Gentlemen….being half exposed feels sooo sexy. )
Now for the panties. To make feel even more exposed ask me to lean back so you or I can pull my panties down to either mid thigh or below my knees. Eventually they will come all the way off, but not yet.
At this moment I’m undone and hopefully wetter than wet. It’s up to you now. What’s next?
