It was a manipulation,

Just using my hands.

Her naked oiled body lay before me

Having already been smoothed by my palms.

Right now both my hands lay between her legs.

Open, inviting.

One hand with fingers deep inside;

The other washing over her puffy lips

Rubbing the skin back and forth.

 

Her body moved in waves.

Her back arching and falling.

Her breasts rising,

Her legs opening,

Her head rolling slowly side to side.

 

I enjoyed watching her swollen nipples,

Rise like the mountains once rose in the west.

Seeing her stomach quiver,

Her hips move involuntarily,

Capturing the rhythm and tension of her stress.

My hands floated with them.  Attached.

A part of her constant movement.

 

The manipulation.

The tiny sensors were touched.

The fingers inside drove a little deeper,

Circled and withdrew.

The fingers on top were in control.

 

I moved them along her folds.

Up along her lip and down against her clit.

Pacing with her hips,

Feeling her legs open wider,

Offering all to

My manipulations.

 

Suddenly, time was compressing.

Her movements more rapid,

As were mine.

Her breathing more unpredictable,

Hungrily grabbing the air.

And my fingers would surprise as well.

Thrusting or squeezing

Just once

Then twice

Between manipulations.

 

Her body arched and froze

My fingers thrust deep and fast.

Her entire body squeezed into her middle.

I grazed her clit.  She screamed.  More clit.

Focused, fast, careful, delicate, tiny exploitations.

More screaming.  Gasping.  Body wrenching.

 

My fingers, my palms continued,

Until her tide began to subside.

Great crashing waves.

Each smaller than the last.

Time slowed and was swallowed.

Fingers withdrawn.

Palms moved over her body

Soothing her yearning for a cuddle,

Pressing breasts, placing my face on her stomach.

Her hands cradled my head.

Her fingers sunk into my thick hair.

My eyes watching her

Catching breath, smiling lips, grateful eyes.

I keep hearing how Xanga has become a wasteland. And I wonder what is it that people feel is missing. I know I miss certain people who used to frequent the site but there are always new ones to be discovered. Personally I feel the site has become less sex oriented. There used gto be more posting of provocative pictures and videos. But I doubt that is what people miss. Am I wrong? If you can try to be specific in your answers. Do you miss particular kinds of posts (clever, rants, funny, meaningful)? Or particular kinds of people? Are there new Xanga features which you feel have contributed (recommending comments, top blogs, etc.).

What do you think?

PayPal is censoring what you can read by demanding publishers remove certain erotic literature from their offerings. You can find out about both sides by reading my blog: http://rushmorejudd.blogspot.com/?zx=5e35154b7906abb9 or hear PayPal’s side by reading their blog: https://www.thepaypalblog.com/2012/03/paypals-acceptable-use-policy-on-sale-of-certain-erotica/  Apparently they have decided the courts are the wrong place to decide what is taboo in literature.  If you liked the Twilight series (bestiality) or if you enjoy erotica in general, please sign this position to stop PayPal.  https://eff.org/r.1Uy

Are you aware that PayPal has taken it upon themselves to censor erotica by pressuring the publishers to meet their censorship guidelines or they will withdraw their credit card services.  Since PayPal has a virtual monopoly on online credit card processing for non-mega sites, so the publishers are feeling the pinch and caving in.  Censorship by corporation officers – a new model for demagoguery.  Read more about it here:

http://rushmorejudd.blogspot.com/2012/03/paypal-conducting-book-burnings.html 

I am in one of my submissive sex moods.

Very susceptible to suggestion.

Won’t you please take advantage of me?

Do you think me less masculine

Because I want to serve you?

I would be glad to sit on the floor

By your feet.

My head in your lap.

Inside your lap; your legs open.

Or would you prefer to have me

Massage your back.

My hands gently rubbing your naked skin.

Servitude.  Do with me as you wish.

Use me as your boy toy.

For just today.

Tomorrow I will return to that other world

Where I will be in charge.

But for today, I am yours to do with as you please.

I’ve collaborated with five other authors to publish an erotic anthology – each story connected in some way to Las Vegas.  The eBook sells for $6.99.  I’m offering my fans at Xanga a coupon worth 50% off only until January 3, 2012.  The link to the book is here: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/117988 and the coupon code is: YK32E

If you are continually returning to my site but have blocked me from yours (or ignored my friend request), I would appreciate a brief note of explanation.  I do have some fans who do not want me to show up as a “friend” or even in their subscription list because of jealous spouses, work related issues, etc.  I get it and don’t mind.  But some explanation is really appreciated.

In cooperation with 8 other authors of erotica, I am coordinating an effort to distribute free ebooks (erotica) to service men and woman and their spouses. There are 20 books/stories which are being offered for a limited time free of charge to these individuals.

If you know of service men or women (or are one) send me a copy of your email privately and I’ll see that they get sent a copy of the list.  This material is erotic and intended for adult audiences.  (I currently have a list of approximately 150)

I’ve just published a collection of short stories on smashwords for FREE.  Some of these stories have not been published on Xanga. Here’s the link: www.smashwords.com/books/view/84120

 

(Someone asked me to publish this anonymously for them.  She hopes to win but didn’t want to be recognized.)

It was a good thing he was reading his newspaper.  He didn’t notice me looking at his junk.  It looked exceptionally huge in his tight jeans.  I couldn’t keep my eyes off of it.  He was a black man and had a decent upper body.  I could see the muscles of his arms as he held the paper in his short sleeve shirt.  But in truth my eyes kept moving down to his jeans and that meaty sausage with the curve in it.  I wondered what it would look like erect.  I wondered whether he was circumcised.  I’d heard that a lot of black men weren’t.

Suddenly he folded his paper and left it on the bench.  He rose and began to walk in my direction.  I looked down at my blanket in the grass trying to avoid staring at him.  His legs moved toward me and he took a position standing right in front of me.  I looked up – slowly.  He was standing very close and I could still see his bulge even as I looked into his face. 

Smiling at me, he said, “Do you like what you see?”

“What do you mean?”  I pretended ignorance but my heart began racing.  I felt like a child caught stealing a candy bar.

“Do you want to touch it?”  I think his hips thrust forward a bit or maybe it was my imagination.

“I don’t know what you are talking about?  Do I know you?”

“No you don’t know me but I saw the way you were looking and I know you want to touch it.  Don’t lie to me.”

“You expect me to touch it here, in the park, right now.  I’m not that sort of girl.”

“Everyone is that sort of girl.  There is no one around at the moment.  And my car is right over there if you prefer.  Go ahead.  Give into your fantasy.   It’ll be fun.”  He had a warm smile and a soft voice.  He grabbed himself with his hand and moved it slightly taking the curve out of it.  I looked around and there was no one nearby.  I reached up and touched it.   It was large and soft.  I felt strange touching him and didn’t do it for long.  I could feel a tremble run from my hand to the rest of my body.

“Come over to my car and I’ll let you see it.  Wouldn’t you like to see it?”  I decided to go with it.  What the hell.  Leaving my blanket behind, we were in his car in a flash.  He pushed his seat back and undid his belt, snap and zipper.  Pulling his pants and shorts down to his knees, I got my first look at his endowment.  It looked even larger unsheathed from its covering.  Long, thick and very black it was uncircumcised and still flaccid.  It was awesome, if size is important to you.

“Touch it,” he said.  “See if you can make it grow.”  I put my hand under it and felt its weight.  I realized I could put both hands under it side by side – it was that long.  I pulled his foreskin down and I could see it begin to respond to my touch.  I looked at his face and he had a satisfied grin covering it.  His black eyes were smiling too, surrounded by tiny wrinkles.  I watched him grow erect as I pushed and pulled on his foreskin.  I was amazed at how much skin covered him and how moveable it was.  If I pulled hard all the way down I could see his round pinker head poke out from its covering.  I began to use two hands pulling on him.

“Slap it,” he said.  I wasn’t sure what he meant but I held it from the bottom with one hand and slapped the sensitive area near the top with the other.

“Yes, I like that.  You got skills woman.”  He groaned as I repeated the slap a few times.

“Don’t you want to taste it?”  Yes I did.  My juices were flowing touching and playing with his massive cock.  I wanted to get closer.  I leaned forward and licked it like a lollipop.  It tasted fine – fleshy, meaty, alive.  It responded to my licking.  I pulled his foreskin down as far as I could and wrapped my lips around it.  I’ve felt cocks in my mouth before but this was so much bigger and filled my mouth with just the top.  I sucked up and down on the top while he moaned. 

His hand moved to the back of my neck.  Moving up his fingers slid along my scalp under my flowing hair.  My skin was tingling all over.  His other hand lifted the hair off of my face gently and then both hands made a pony tail out of my hair pulling it tightly from my scalp.  His hips began moving, shoving his cock deeper into my mouth.  I had him, I thought.

His hands began gripping me hard pushing my head down and his hips thrust higher, his cock moving into the depths of my throat choking me.  I gagged and shook my head from side to side trying to get him out.  I gagged again.  His grip became even tighter.  He was on fire, driving for his orgasm, lost in his own special feelings.

“Yes that’s it girl.  Suck my cock.  Suck my big black cock, white girl.  Take that.”

I felt his first giant spurt fill my throat.  Too deep to do anything but swallow it.  There didn’t seem to be much taste to it at first but as spurt after spurt filled my mouth and ran down my throat, I became aware of a distinct taste.  Sweet and salty. 

Even after he came, his cock completely filled my mouth and I was glad to have him remove it.  Strangely though, as I write this, I remember I enjoyed his thrusts and I enjoyed the gagging.  I liked the fact that he held me tight and took complete control, even though it was a little rough.  No – not ‘even though.’   I loved that it was rough.  I never came, I never saw him again, I never even got his name, but it was one of the most exciting sexual experiences of my life.