The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #62? Start with the rules, come back September1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!
Girls just old enough to know how to post to YouTube create video selfies posing that question. Often the responses are so downright cruel as to cause possibly permanent damage to a young girl’s budding identity. As for special girls like me, the only relevant question is much more basic, even base:
Am I fuckable or not?
A more lady-like way of asking the same question is this:
Do you like my hair?
On the subject of hair and fucking, August is the hardest month, what with all the heat and the humidity. The better, the sweatier the fuck, the more likely my latest trip to the expensive salon is all for naught…my hair, so carefully coiffed and styled, is now ruined, absolutely ruined. What to do?
Some girls I know invest in satin pillowcases, so they no longer have to worry about frizzy “sex hair.” The silky fabric won’t rough up your hair like cotton pillowcases do, no matter how rough the play. Another way to accomplish the same end is simply to be the dominating girl on top, so the sweaty sheets won’t ever touch your pretty-perfect locks.
For a girl like me who’s not afraid of a lot of makeup — even using a face primer, which smooths texture, boosts coverage and helps makeup wear better and last longer — I understand there’s a similar product for your hair, called Prime Style Extender. I think I’ll ask my trusty hairdresser about this, whether it truly can ensure my style lasts through the sexiest of encounters.
Another solution is simple enough: good old-fashioned braids! Whether your hair’s in cornrows, French braids, or fishtail, you won’t be afraid to get a little wild. Sure braids can get a little messy during your romp, but afterwards when you comb them out, you’ll have a super sexy wavy hairstyle! All the more sexy given the secret knowledge of the naughtiness you’ve been up to!!
Finally, my favorite: the ponytail. When I throw my hair up in a ponytail, I know I’m ready to get down to business! And I do mean get down! It’s the best for giving head. Your hair’s back away from your face, so even if your guy’s into giving you facials, no cum will goo it up. And a ponytail gives a guy a convenient handle to push and pull your head to achieve maximum satisfaction.
Besides — and best of all! — a classic ponytail is really cute.
For special girls like me, blowjobs come naturally…. we’re intimately familiar with the body part that we’re putting in our mouth! But for other girls, practice is sometimes required:
Lollipops. Tootsie pops. Popsicles. It’s important to get used to the idea of always having something enjoyable between your lips…. For still other (more imaginative!) girls, take a listen to the inventor of the so-called BJ-MATIC:
“Blowjobs are one of my favorite activities. It’s a total power trip, you can keep a guy totally within your power with just a little licking and slurping. Beg, plead and squirm, he’ll do ANYTHING rather then risk a girl stopping. And what could be more fun then that? I’ve always had very good technique,licking along the length of the shaft or tickling the underside of the head with my tongue…. Good hollow cheeked suction and ball handing skills. Since I’m enthusiastic and enjoy it a great deal that makes it much better for a guy, I think.
“The only thing I was never able to do was deep throat. I don’t choke or anything but it just never seemed to fit back there.
“I consider giving a good BJ a point of personal pride. So I decided some practice was in order. Taking advantage of a pretty good education in the sciences, I built a device to make that practice much more enjoyable and offered encouragement while I worked to perfect my oral abilities. I built the BJmatic. It basically works like this:
“I slide the dildo all the way down my throat until my nose presses a switch on the wooden board. This turns a vibrator on for 8 seconds. After 8 seconds it turns off. There has to be a delay because I need time to pull out a little and breath. Since the vibrator is being held against my clit, that offers a powerful incentive to keep in a steady rhythm and to keep depressing the switch with by nose. Once I can keep the vibrator from turning off during the 5 to 10 minutes it takes for me to come I then move the dildo out so it has to slide father down my throat in order for my nose to hit the switch. I’ve been practicing a lot so I think when the time comes the lucky guy is going to be plenty happy!”
The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #60? Start with the rules, come back August 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!
The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #58? Start with the rules, come back May 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!
My girlfriend Stephanie is vacating the apartment we once shared on the Lower East Side, so what to do with all my stuff I left behind when I moved to Europe last year? I don’t remember what’s there exactly — probably lots of fashionable clothes that immediately became unfashionable the week after I bought them. Plus tons of old underwear, pantyhose, camisoles and such.
But I don’t want to tell Steph to simply toss them in the trash, for they’re money in the bank! Like Bitcoins, a form of international currency!! And like vintage collectibles, the older and more worn, the more valuable they seem to be!!!
I’ve had some experience with men in the past fantasizing about — and fetishizing — my undies, but only recently have I come to understand what an incredible business opportunity they represent.
When I worked as an escort, guys would sometimes bring me lingerie to wear while we had sex, and then take it back home with them as a trophy of sorts. And one guy, a regular, would wear panties himself to our encounter, then take them off, ask me to then put them on; afterwards, he would use them to masturbate in. Feeling the silky softness around his shaft was infinitely more fun, I guess, than feeling it deep down my throat.
I’m not being critical or judgmental. For I’ve often cum in my own panties myself. When I use a vibrator, in fact, it just feels somehow sexier to leave my panties on. Anyway….
Over the last few months a bunch of Facebook friends/followers/fans have offered big bucks for items from my lingerie chest. I don’t even have to freshly wash them — the more spoiled, apparently the better! I’m beginning to think I’m sitting (both literally and figuratively) on a gold mine!
Come to think about it, maybe the intimates I wear — conveying the idea of me — is so much better than the reality of me. Hosiery, thongs and bikinis never bitch and complain, never need selfish satisfaction. They exist just for your pleasure….yours alone.
So take my poll and send me a offer…. opening bid on my bright orange thong, for example, starts at $50!
Welcome to e[lust]– The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at e[lust]. Want to be included in e[lust] #56? Start with the rules, come back March 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!
Some of the most meaningful men in my life have been those I haven’t really known at all. This was especially true in the beginning, when I was first trying out in public my girlish persona. They validated me, and for that, I salute them – all those anonymous men whose lust I awakened! Which in turn awakened my slut within.
The proverbial construction workers who whistled and yelled “Hey, Baby!” Real girls sometimes complain (disingenuously?) about this kind of “unwanted” attention; for girls like me, it provides an incredible rush of badly needed self-confidence.
The timid man — tall, dark and handsome – whom I caught staring at my jean-encased butt as I stood in line for a café latte. Blushing, he quickly snapped his head away. As a man myself, I had done that cowardly maneuver too! So I sent him a lifeline by smiling and saying, “Hi!”
“Hi,” another man says as I’m strolling in a city park. It’s the first time I’m venturing out wearing such a short, snug skirt! I smile, so he follows me and stands by my side as I stop to read a historical marker. He starts talking about the history that happened here; I’m so nervous, I don’t pay attention to the content of his words. He can tell, so he says: “Don’t worry, I’m married, a faithful husband.” Turns out he’s a real estate broker and has a $500,000 house in the neighborhood that would be “perfect” for “a young career girl” like me. A rich bitch, is that what I look like? I don’t mind. Or is it all just a ploy: to take me on a tour of the empty house and then fuck me there? That, I would not have minded either!
Whenever I pull on pantyhose, I think of Ron. Ron, one of my first serious lovers…what’s he doing now, I wonder?
Anyway, Ron had a beard, and the reason he had a beard was not so he would look like a pensive professor, which he was, or a disheveled lumberjack, which he was not, but because he was so damn analytical. And he was afraid of time, its passage, its fleeting nature. If he’s dead now, and he could well be for all I know, his fear would of course have been justified (he would have laughed if he had heard me say that!).
So one day he threw all his razors away – or rather, frugal guy that he was, asked if I wanted them for my legs and underarms – and announced that he would never shave again. At five minutes a day, he calculated, over the course of an average American male lifetime, he would have wasted close to 100 days looking in the mirror shaving. Shaving! He spit the word with disgust.
How many days have I – will I have – wasted pulling on and peeling off pantyhose?
Tgirl Confidential 