Gracie\'s Playground

Sex Dream
Thursday April 30th 2015, 9:56 am
Filed under: Mindfuck,Oral
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Photo by Rick Legal

I’m lying in some small room or maybe even in some kind of vehicle. Two guys accompany me: one behind me by my head and the other in my view. He dips his dirty middle finger inside my cunt.

“Oh, she’s wet,” he gloats.

I distinctly remember seeing the glisten of my wetness on his finger when he pulled out to show his other male companion. I am not happy with this man in front of me. Yet when his finger penetrated me, I had no choice but to feel this longing ache somewhat triggered and satisfied.

I push the dirty man away from me and choose the silent one behind me to take over. Our bodies shuffle around and he chooses to put his head between my legs. I was not expecting this act but his head goes down I gasp. It has been so long that the anticipation had gotten the better of me. His face shoots up in alarm. I close my eyes and try to calm down. I’m sure in reality I was moaning in my sleep. In the dream I pushed my head to the back of his head.

My alarm goes off and I don’t come.

Fucking dreams.

Fucking life.

I need to get laid. Even my subconscious tells me so.

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I am still here…
Friday February 20th 2015, 11:41 am
Filed under: Grace,Masturbation,Mindfuck
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Photo by Rick Legal

I am still here and around. People are starting to ask if I am still alive. Yes, I am. I meant to write something the other day and as usual life got in the way.

Life seems to be getting in the way a lot lately and why I’ve grown so quiet these past months. This isn’t a bad thing. I am still having orgasms and seeing/talking to people. Things are just a little different.

I will continue to write when I can and hopefully soon.

I won’t tell you to hold your breath because that would be cruel, all though I can be cruel. What I wouldn’t give for a hand wrapped around my throat right now…

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A Letter
Sunday August 17th 2014, 9:59 am
Filed under: Grace,Masturbation,Mindfuck,Sex
Photo by Rick Legal

Photo by Rick Legal

[Redacted],

I’m nestled in bed and woke up hung over. I wondered if last night was some elaborate dream. Then I saw the pile of blanket and towels on the floor. That was so real. My body feels almost sated, almost. Never quite. It’s not begging me for sex in that biological way.

I can’t even imagine what it will be like in the flesh. Will I be so over stimulated that I will get lost in such physical interactions? I want to find out. I want to see the man behind the curtain. The man that was building me up for days till I exploded with uncontrollable desire, need and lust. Was it calculated or luck on your part? How many women have left in a quivering heap of wet, sweat and tears? Is this your foreplay? What happens when we are eye to eye, do you play out the acts you so delicately described?

No, no one has achieved what you did to me last night. Every word that came from your fingertips was a thrust into my psyche that shot between my legs. The moans the left my lips, the wetness the dripped down my thighs, it was all very physical and yet I wanted nothing more than to hear you, to know your arousal was equally matched to mine and I wanted your orgasm. I wanted us equally matched on this mental plane. You were so deep inside me.

Thank you for the intentional or non-intentional evening with you. It can only get better from here, right?

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The Aural and The Exhibitionist
Tuesday July 29th 2014, 5:21 pm
Filed under: Grace,Masturbation,Mindfuck
Photo by Rick Legal

Photo by Rick Legal

He has wanted me to write about him for some time. I am not one to just write upon request as it’s in my nature to immediately refuse because I am difficult that way.

We met online, as I have met most. We were friends at first, like some. He thought I was someone else so he never really put a line on me.

When details were figured out and everyone was comfortable, we decided that we wanted to talk. I don’t mean friendly banter; we wanted to get off with each other.

My phone rang. I answered softly and always with a smile. I’m was naked in bed because I didn’t want to fuss with clothes when one hand was already occupied with keeping the headphone mic by my mouth and not muffled in a nest of black hair. He greeted in return. His voice was of a teacher’s voice. I never had a crush on a teacher before since I always seemed to get the crotchety old teachers that were difficult and uninterested in life. He spoke his words very clearly and with precision. I found this amusing with him. It’s as if I had to break the guy down to his lowest animal form to get him to snarl and spit.

Naturally my hand found its way between my legs. This was a very normal act when I knew spoken words were meant to get me off. I closed my eyes and listened. At times I would reply to a question, ask a question or even hiss a sentence at him. After I came very loudly for him, I snapped into place. I wanted him to come. I wanted to hear him come just for me. I spoke filth and the more depraved it was the better. His voice broke away from “Teacher” and he was more of a man driven to feed his basic desire…come. He did come with huge lung filled breaths. I could hear him piece himself back together.

We hung up. I took a shower and he wanted to do it all over again. And we did.

Over the months we have found ourselves to be uninhibited with each other and even venture in realms I have not shared with anyone else. “The filthier, the better” seems to be our motto. There were times when I would just watch him come and hang up. There were plenty of times when he would show me what I did to his rather large cock with thoughts of me or words I have said or typed out.

I’ve gotten him off plenty of times just IMing filth to him and even while I was driving.

I like to hear and watch.

I like people that excite me.

I like connections.

I hope this is what you had in mind, Mr. Teacher. We should make a date soon.

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One Night
Monday June 23rd 2014, 8:25 pm
Filed under: Grace,Sex
Photo by Rick Legal

Photo by Rick Legal

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Our bodies were drenched in sweat. He was behind me and my back was arched. I could feel his puffs of breath against my back as he tried to be as deep inside me as I pushed against him. I felt cold droplets of sweat from his hair pierce the layer of hot wet with each movement.

“Take it.”

“Take it.”

“Take it.”

Was the chant as I fisted the bed sheets.

“I’ll take it.”

“Give it to me.”

“Give me your orgasms.”

Were his responses.

Every time he pulled out, I would have aftershocks. My body would quake and twitch. The tears would well up in my eyes. I had come undone with him. He wanted to give me his desire and he fully did.

One night and that was all.

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