9 Days Until My Birthday

A special request for all of you, as a gift from you to me.

Answer one of these questions ... take some time, think about it, I'll refer back to this on November 14.

1. Describe your best sexual experience. What made it the best? How did you feel before, during and after?

2. Think about your number of partners. If tomorrow you could magically double (triple, etc.) that number or divide it in half (or thirds, etc.) -- would you? Why?

3. Do you think men and women can be monogamous all their lives? Why/why not?

4. If you could fuck anyone (and I do mean anyone) -- who would it be? Why? What would you do to them? They to you?

5. Of the sex bloggers I have featured in the blog roll, who would you want to participate in an orgy with you? Why? (thanks to Shared Cindy for this question ... what a great time you had in NY/FL!)

6. Share with me (and all readers) -- a fantasy, a naughty thought, a wish or a shout-out.

g'night ... start thinking!

One month later.

Hello, all. I've missed you.

Thank you, everyone, who sent me an email or made a note on this site expressing condolences. You really have no idea just how much that meant to me.

I'm still at "why" on my friend's passing ... I'm not sure that will ever truly be answered, but I ask it all the same. His wife is adjusting, slowly. I keep in contact with her, doing what I can. I'll see her over Thanksgiving.

**************
In rather unexpected blessings, I got royally laid this month. Oh yeah, ooh baby, amen! We shall call him Tony. A friend's brother-in-law, single, late 30s, no kiddos. Has a way of working my g-spot into a frenzy and me into a quivering, throbbing mess. I squirted all over his sheets the first night we had sex. Yes. The First Night.

More on that soon. Promise.

Until then, thanks. Seriously, thank you. I couldn't ask for better readers.

September was a hard month.

Not for any of the good reasons that something is "hard" either ...

I lost a dear friend this month. A friend for over a decade, he was a wonderful friend, great husband and fabulous father.

It was a sudden thing, no warning, a freak accident gone awry.

I flew back north at a moment's notice to give comfort to his widow, a dear friend of mine as well.

I'll be back online, just need a little more alone time right now. Contemplating life. Death. Meaning of it all and most of all -- why.

xoxoxo, S.

A new post

Over on the Fellatrices ... link is on the right side, down towards the bottom.

This was my Friday night at a bar near me ...

Some days ...

As you know from my previous posts, I love getting reader mail. You can find my email address to the right ... yep, right over there. Sometimes I'm lucky enough to get a request to write a fantasy. Since I promised this one a few weeks ago (prior to my life turning upside down at work), I thought today would be a good time. Reader -- you know who you are, Enjoy.

In my dating life, I've only dated white guys for the most part. It isn't like I have turned down those of other races, it is just that I've seemed to only attract the white men of the world. However, as fashion and fantasy tastes change, I am finding myself more and more the object of black men's affections.

You see, I'm no Kate Moss. I'm what one would call voluptuous. In the 1940s and 50s, I would have been smoking hot. I'm more Betty Grable or Veronica Lake than Kate Moss. I have full, rounded breasts that sit high on my chest, perfectly perky (and pass the pencil test), but they are solid C's. My waist is small, while my hips and thighs are wider. I have a little belly, but as I've been told once before, it is a sexy, womanly belly. The kind that comes from good food, good living and great wine.

This, combined with my hazel eyes and curly long hair and standing all of 5'5", doesn't fit the fantasy of the typical thirtyish white male. What I do know, and know well, is that I fit the fantasy of black men, specifically a man I'll call Steven.

Steven is a sight to behold. Dark and bold, his 6'5" frame towers over me. His shoulders are wide, his waist is narrow and his eyes light up when I mention how much I want him. It is a kind of control I don't take lightly, because, truth be told, I am his slut and love to please him.

It all started one Saturday night. I had a long week at work and had spent Saturday leisurely, just doing laundry and relaxing. I spent a little time at the pool, so my freckles had popped out, spotting my white-as-milk skin. After a nap that afternoon, I decided it was time that I got out and had a beer -- I needed to fully relax, after all, it was an awfully long week. All work and no play makes Scorpio a dull girl.

I headed out to my favorite sports bar. Two things about this place make me smile. One is the 25 televisions (or so) that dot the walls, each featuring a different game. For a sports-lover like me, this is perfection. Secondly, the staff and clientele are a mixed bunch. Old, young, men, women, white, black and otherwise all commune together in harmony here. It is the rare place that appeals to all, while catering to no one.

It had gotten later ... 5ish, when I finally showered and got ready to head out to the bar. I wore a green v-neck tshirt, tight enough to show off my assets, but not so tight as to cause a commotion. Shorts and sandals completed the outfit, along with some of my favorite jewelry. I looked good, but not spectacular. I was headed out to grab a bite, not to make friends.

It was a college football Saturday and the bar was packed. Patrons were squeezing into every single barstool, space and table, save one. As I slid onto the sole remaining barstool, I gave my order to Chris, my favorite bartender. Just then I happened to notice the guy sitting to my left ... alone, just like me.

He looked like he was intently watching a game, but as I happened to look over at him, I caught him appraising my breasts. I smiled and he chuckled a bit at being caught. I'm not one to meet a stranger so I introduced myself. He told me his name was Steven and that he came here on occasion to watch a game or two.

Steven struck me as a friendly guy, but nothing sparked for me intially. After he had introduced himself, he went back to watching the game, albeit sneaking looks at me and my chest when he thought he could get away with it. I enjoyed letting him.

We began to talk shortly after the Cubs game ended. Turns out he was as big of a fan as I was, and regardless of the dozens of college football games on the televisions around us, we both found ourselves engrossed in the Cubs. He had family back in Chicago and one of his fondest memories was of Wrigley. As a third-generation Cubbie fan, we both commisserated over the endless "next years" we had survived as fans.

It wasn't long before he had his arm wrapped around the back of my chair and I had swiveled around to face him, letting my right knee touch his right knee as my left knee rested on the back of his chair. It must have been the combination of the beer, the Cubs and this incredibly hot man sitting next to me when I blurted out that I thought he was sexy.

He told me I reminded him of those 50s pinup girls, you know the ones, with the soft flowing hair, big smiles and gorgeously curvy bodies. I don't know why, given that I was wearing a tshirt and shorts, but I was flattered nonetheless. The afternoon turned to evening, the evening turned to night and soon it was midnight.

For someone who had planned on getting dinner and a beer, I had spent nearly 6.5 hours in a bar, talking to someone I didn't know ... and talking to him about nearly everything.

I excused myself to the restroom, thinking it was time to call it a night, when he caught my elbow and asked me if I'd let him walk me to my car. Of course, I said, I'll be right back.

While I was in the restroom, I splashed water on my face, trying to come to grips with the amount of beer I had drank, the hot man beside me, and saying goodbye after such a fruitful evening. I returned back to the bar, paid my bill and out the door we went.

The evening had grown cooler, with just a smattering of a rainstorm a few hours before. As Steven guided me out to my car, he told me in no uncertain terms just how sexy he found me and how much he wanted this night not to end.

We arrived at my car and he wrapped his strong dark arms around me. In the moonlight, I was as pale as light, while he was nearly luminescent in his darkness. I looked up at him and he kissed me. The feel of his strong, persistent mouth on mine was enough to make me instantly wet. My nipples hardened as he ran his hands up and down my back, rubbing on my ass, up my sides and then quickly over my breasts. I could not help but moan as his mouth licked and sucked on my neck.

I've always been weak in the knees for kisses on my neck but this was something different -- persistent and demanding, all while asking and wanting. He pushed me back against my driver's door and ran his hand down my side, then reached up, pulled my shorts a bit and rubbed his long fingers against my pussy. I was sopping wet, having soaked my panties and shorts in just the few minutes we were kissing. His fingers became more insistent, rubbing my clit and running in and outside of my pussy.

I have never wanted to be fucked more than this moment in time. His fingering became more persistent, now entering me and cupping his fingers around for my gspot. I moaned, loudly and heard the laughter of another couple in the distance. At that time I didn't care about anything other than being touched by Steven ... and wanting to know exactly what I had in store for me that night.

He rubbed and rubbed, alternating between my clit and my gspot until I came, over and over, soaking his fingers, his hand and my shorts ... Lost in my own orgasm, I moaned his name and with one quick push from him, I was down on my knees, back to my car, with his cock just above my mouth. In the time he had been fingering me, he had undone his pants and pulled out the most incredible cock. It was long, just the right thickness and hard as brass and my mouth covered it before he could ask me to suck it. In fact, just as he was asking me to suck his cock, I took him into my mouth and grabbed the base of it with my right hand.

I rocked back and forth with my hand as my mouth danced over his cockhead and I licked up and down the shaft. I could hear a car door slam, just then, reminding me that we were in a not-so-dark part of the parking lot and I was servicing him on my knees.

I attempted to get up, and he put his hand on my head, telling me to finish, that I was his slut now, and that I was to follow his demands. This got me even hotter, as I am always in charge and this role reversal, even more so with a stranger, had taken me to new heights. As I gripped his cock with my right hand, my left hand was unzipping my shorts, reaching into my panties and rubbing my clit and pussy.

My sloppy slickness, my mouth on his cock and his approach towards orgasm hit a crescendo as the lights in the parking lot were being shut off, one by one. It was now closer to two, the bar had closed and the last of the bar's staff were leaving. Just as the light above us went off, his cock jerked and wave after wave of thick, salty, gooey cum washed over my tongue and mouth. I drank every drop, licking and sucking to his finish, even licking off the head as he shuddered a bit at my ministrations. By this time I'd had my 8th or 9th orgasm and was awash in my own juices, happiness and the general peace that comes over me after a quality orgasm.

Little did I know just how fast he would recover ... or just how much fucking my pussy and ass would take over the next few hours as I became Steven's slut.

Horny as Hell and I'm Not Gonna Take It Anymore.

Sweet Mary, what does a good cocksucker like me have to do to get some ass around this town?

Let's tally up the CL adventures:

7 no-shows.
3 blatantly youngsters (one was so young I did not ask his age, just excused myself)
5 mid-70s or so (mind you, the ad stated 30-45)
1 complete creep (literally, I am scared I will see his face on a wanted poster someday)
2 no chemistry, whatsoever.
6 men who only wanted one night.

Now, I will say one night is fine if I were looking to get more later but one night, right now, given how horny I am? Seriously, he'd be drained of all fluid, begging for God's mercy while simultaneously attempting to call all his friends to brag.

There were also a few that answered (who are not counted above) that were obviously looking for a live-in girlfriend to "service" their every need, from cooking to cleaning to sex. Not to be rude, but I've been married, and while that was just fun for days (errr, minutes), I'll pass on none of the benefits and all the problems.

So, dear readers, I'm at a loss. Maybe I'm in a bad area for CL. Maybe you've had experiences finding FBs with some success on other sites. Help.

Help your friend Scorpio out before she tortures some poor unsuspecting fool :)

TMI Tuesday ... on Wednesday

A dear reader of mine sent me a list of questions for TMI Tuesday so I'm sharing them (and my answers) with all of you ...

Q: How old were you when you first sucked a cock?
14

Q: Do you swallow?
Of course :)

Q: Have you ever met a guy with the purpose of just giving him a blow job?
Yes ... and I've met a guy for the express purpose of getting my pussy licked. I am all about pleasure.


Q: How well do you have to know a guy before you suck his cock? Do you routinely give head to guys on a first date?
I've sucked a man's cock the first day/date I've met them. My only rules (per se) of cocksucking involve a clean, well-kept cock on a clean man. If there is any hint of funk, there isn't a hope of him receiving head from me.

Routinely on the first date? How does more often than not sound?

Q: Have you sucked a guy off while he was driving?

Yes, and he almost killed us both. I can laugh about it now but I now try to figure out whether he is a head-leaning back moaner before I give head in the car :)

Q: What's the most cocks you've sucked in a single day? A week?

In a day, two. In a week, five. Have I mentioned I love sucking cock? :P