Do you remember putting your mouth near my ear and sucking in a breath of air as if you were going to whisper something to me?

Do you remember me melting in your arms? My legs squeezed together. My cunt wet.

Do you remember shifting your body and pushing your middle finger inside me in one fluid motion that caused me to squirt all over your hand and my thighs?

“Yyyyesss” you hissed with such a proud tone as you continued to work your finger to another wet orgasms and another.

My eyes roll to the back of my head. I’m clinging to you for dear life.

Do you remember my left hand reaching down to grab your swollen cock? I stroked and squeezed your flesh depending on the intensity of the orgasm you were giving me.

Do you remember giving into the will of your erection, turning me over and shoving the full length deep inside my soaked cunt?

My hand clawing and gripping your bed sheet into a wad with your steady rhythm of conquer. My moans filling your room and escaping out into the parking lot below.

Feeling your cock own every inch of my flesh. My skin on fire from each thrust hitting my g-spot so perfectly.

Do you remember how you gripped my ass pulling and pushing me onto your cock? Can you still feel my cunt clenching you with each orgasm?

Do you remember how your body started to tense and shake with your cock swelling even more?

“Come in me,” I begged.

“Come in me,” I pleaded.

“Come in me,” I demanded.

Do you remember clenching my ass with a tight grip as your seed spilled deep inside me as my cunt milked every bit from your cock?

I remember

Every detail of our last time together.

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We were comparing our calendars trying to figure out the next time we would see each other. Just when I thought it would not be that bad, it became bad. We are staring at three weekends of not seeing each other, which comes out to four very long weeks. Sure we have done this before but not in this state that we are in. I am in the process of a new lover, which means my mind is in hypersexual mode. How is this any different than my usual state? Very different.

The beauty of another lover coming into the picture causes even more arousal. My mind wanders more and I always have this stupid grin on my face. Most girls know this grin, it’s the “I have a secret and I will tell it, if you ask.”

This causes the sex I have to be more intense.

This causes the thoughts I have to be more intense.

This causes my masturbation to be… more… intense.

We were lying on his bed and I nestled into his chest, “I can’t believe it’s going to be four weeks before I see you again.”

He hugs me to comfort me. I know he is wondering why I am having such a fit over this. He tells me it will be ok. We’ve done this before.

The moment I knew it was going to be weeks my body went into a panic. I will not be having sex for how long? The panic turns into dread. The dread works into my already elevated emotions. I tear up.

We start have sex and it’s the most intense sex I have had in a while with him. He is behind me moving all the way in and out. The head of his cock is perfectly hitting my g-spot every time. I am moaning and pleading with God. Each orgasm causes my body to shudder and clench tightly around his cock. There are times when I push him completely out to ride out the orgasmic quake and he forces himself back inside me. This invasion eventually causes me to push him out again with my feet propped against his planted knees. For once, I can’t take his cock constantly making me orgasm violently.

He falls beside me as he usually does. I am balled up trying to catch my breath. Trying to find myself again. I am lost somewhere between my mind and the wall behind his bed. My hair is tangled in a mess. He can’t see my face. I am hiding as I regain myself.

I push a handful of hair from my face.

“There you are,” he says.

I let out a small gasp for a laugh and I see his cock half erect. I really can never walk away from a not fully spent cock and there won’t be a first. I slide down his body with him still on his right side. I am already envisioning him fucking my mouth from this angle. I lick the tip and swallow him whole. I wrap my arm around his backside because I want to gag on him. I want my eyes to tear. I want him to use my mouth. He is making noises above me and I feel his hand lightly near the back of my head. I grab his hand with my free hand and slam it into the back of my hair as my other hand digs my nails into his ass. I want him to force my head on his cock. He lets out a gasp when I do this and I feel his hand push my head down on his cock. I let out a moan. I want more.

The saliva in my mouth starts to seep from the seal I have around his cock and I don’t care.

The tears are streaming from my eyes and I don’t care.

I am gagging at his cock invading my throat and I. don’t. care.

His hand releases me as he grabs on to the black iron headboard and I push him on his back. I straddle his right thigh as I grip his cock with my right hand as I continue to move my mouth up and down on him. His body is starting to tense and shake. I know he is about to come.

“Fuck,” pushes out from his mouth as I feel his seed spurt in waves in the back of my mouth. I swallow every drop of him while gently moving up and down on his cock.

Licking.

Slurping.

Sucking.

I pulled my cock-stained face up to his chest and fell limp.

“That was persistence. Thank you.” He said.

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I’ve been interviewed before but this was my first internet radio where I didn’t know of or who was interviewing me. Anthony Arnold with Black Pearl Rock Radio approached me via Facebook to ask for an interview. Within hours we were recording for the show that aired earlier this evening. It was a very good interview and Anthony asked me some great questions.

I want to thank @shazams_viking for recording this for me. I also want to thank @Penguirl (penguirl20@aol.com) for editing my interview to make it more crispy and clear.

So sit back, grab your favorite vibrator or hand lube and enjoy my voice.

Dark Gracie Interview Audio

Writer’s Note: The following text messages were provided by @shazams_viking with his girlfriend @ShazamChi (Random Rim Jobs).

The word “sexting” already has a negative stigma to it with politicians stepping down from their positions and others seeing it as the modern form of cybering. Sure it seems juvenile and dated and even lame to some.

What you are missing is the magic behind such an act. You have to get beyond the fact that looking at porn is not cheating and sexting with someone is not having an affair. Let me be the first to say that not everyone is cut out for the act of sexting but if you are, there are rewarding benefits.

Open your mind.

He and I have been going back and forth for a few weeks now. It started out deviant as it always does. In full detail he is describing to me what he does with his girlfriend. My mind is envisioning the filthy acts that he does with her. It’s a porn flick running in my mind. I am getting aroused at the stories he tells me. I react and respond back. It’s all done in silence with phones beeping and fingers racing over the screen. Yet the pictures being painted in my mind are detailed, vivid and colorful.

I find myself wet when my phone beeps. I know it’s him. What new filth does he have for me this morning? My eyes are groggy but I see a series of texts from him:

Text: Had the most amazing sex last night. Nothing particularly novel, it was just very intense and very long.

Text: We started by cuddling and talking. Then we fucked. Nice and pretty. I came deep inside her.

Text: Then I went down on her.

I stopped there for a moment. It is an act that I love. A man, who has just fucked me, came and then goes down on me. His filth makes me let out little gasps.

Text: Gradually working my fingers into her, until I was fucking her with four, to the base of my thumb.

I groan. I know what is going to happen next and it’s something I dream about: he’s going to fist her.

Text: I was hard again, so I shifted so that I could slip my cock into her ass. I love that feeling.

I very much love that feeling as well and I am wet in bed reading each message.

Text: I started fucking her ass while I fucked her cunt with my finger.

Text: “More” she said.

Text: I tucked in my thumb and forced my hand into her. “Oh yes,” she moans.

I am aching now. My thighs are clenched tight. My ass is pushing into the bed. My hand is nearing my cunt.

Text: For a while I fucked her with my hand and cock. She gushed at one point. The squelchy noises were amazing.

Text: Her juices ran out of her and onto her ass and my cock, keeping that slick and squelchy as well.

My fingers are pushing to find my wet hardened clit. My eyes are dreamy and this feels like a wanted memory. I want him to do those exact things to me.

Text: In the end I was moving my hand completely in and out of her cunt while my cock pounded her ass.

Text: She came with a scream and I emptied myself into the depths of her ass.

I am rubbing myself to an orgasm reading the words on my phone screen envisioning those acts being done to me.

I sent him a text after I made it into the office that read: I’m still haunted by the sex you had last night. Made me so aroused.

This is what I have been waking up to every morning for about two weeks now. Stories of sexual acts that have happened and will happen, with her and with me. Our union as many that I have had was unexpected but fate-like as we swirl around words into this storm of arousal for each other.

Since our word affair started the sex we have with our significant others have turned more intense and more thrilling. The sexting that we do together, benefit the bedroom sex. We are doing the pre foreplay to the physical foreplay and the eventual sex.

So you see my dear readers, sexting, when done right, can make the sex you have with your mate that much better. Now, do you choose the red pill or the blue pill?

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WARNING: the following is a Deviant Dreams post, read at your own risk. You can read part 1 here: Death (a snippet)

“You are a mess,” I gleamed.

“I’m sorry Grace,” he croaked from his throat. I could tell he had not spoken out loud the whole time I was away. I knew very well he was cursing me under his breath.

His denial was my ultimate arousal. My eyes narrowed slightly as I tried to read his mind through his pupils. Slowly they shifted to the slight twitch in his upper lips to his chin. Further down my gaze stopped at his growing erect penis and my head tilted slightly to the side with the slow formation of a grin.

“Happy to see me pet?” I asked watching his cock jump.

“Y-yes, Grace,” he pushed out clearing his throat.

“You need a bath,” I said. “Follow me.”

Click

Click

Click

I casually lead the way to the bathroom with the tub as he crawled behind me on all fours. I knew he’s watching my heels and slowly savoring the way up as my skirt swayed from left to right. I knew he was wondering if I was wearing panties and we both knew that was not the case. Today was a special day. Today I came home.

I bent forward to turn on the faucet and I knew very well he was sneaking a peek up my skirt as he sat quietly by the doorway with a throbbing hard-on.

“Don’t fucking look up my skirt,” I hissed.

I didn’t even have to look to know he immediately shifted his head down and his face was blushing red. I knew him. I knew him better than he knew himself and that is what sat in the pit of his stomach.

“Get in,” I motioned as I stood straight and turned around.

He crawled slowly into the tub, he was doing this to impress me and prove his submission to me. I watched with my arms crossed with amusement and sat on the toilet.

“I suppose since you are my pet that I should be a good owner and actually wash you. Would that make you happy pet?” I asked as I knelt down at the edge of the tub grabbing the washcloth.

“Y-yes Grace,” he croaked with his cock pushing out of the water. He glanced up at me with an expression of utter happiness that I was tending to him.

I soaped up the washcloth and ran it across his skin. His face, down to his neck, back and arms. I took my time scrubbing away days of filth and knew very well he wanted that washcloth nestled around his cock. I ran the washcloth down his check and stomach. I watched his cock leap as it neared and he let out a barely audible gasp as I skipped his cock and pulled up his leg to wash.

“Stand so I can wash you legs,” I ordered.

He quickly stood up and I moved the washcloth up and down his thighs to his calves. Finally I moved up his inner thigh and then cupping his balls with the soap covered washcloth. He almost collapsed in the tub letting out a groan. A small grin drew on my face.

“Horny pet?” I whispered.

“Y-yes, Grace,” he slurred.

“Need to come pet?” I asked innocently.

“Ung. Y-yes, Grace,” he said quickly.

I squeezed his balls through the washcloth and caused him to double over from the pain and still his cock throbbed with even pre-cum at the tip.

“Wash your cock pet,” I demanded.

He looked confused and let down.

“Do I have to tell you again?” I hissed.

“N-no, Grace,” he stammered and took the washcloth from my hand and stroked it around his cock.

“Don’t you fucking play with yourself either,” I snarled.

“N-no, Grace,” he answered quickly washing thoroughly.

“Rinse off and when you are done dry off and meet me back in the room,” I said throwing a towel at him.

Click

Click

Click

I stripped out of my clothes and fell on the bed. I was exhausted, my eyes were heavy and I closed them for a moment. I waited to hear him come crawling back in the room. Sure enough a few minutes later I could hear the jingle of his collar. A slight grin on my mouth formed. The sound stopped. I knew he was waiting at the foot of the bed and I knew very well he was staring at me. I also knew his cock was bursting and if I blew on it he would hump the air that enveloped his cock.

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