Tamzin Femme: Thigh Pilot

the tentative return

2006-06-30T13:11:00.000+10:00

I am considering re-launching Thigh Pilot. Just thinking for now...

Shucks, y'all gonna miss me?

2005-07-25T22:17:00.000+10:00

Thankyou for the encouraging comments below people. I've been thinking about this whole throwing in the towel business with Thigh Pilot. I told a few people it existed, but never let on what it was called, with the aim of writing whatever I liked about sex: real, fantasised, exaggerated, fictionalised, whatever. When Eyes discovered it he was disappointed with how harmless it is - he was dreading what he would find, then relieved and puzzled to find nothing much at all except a lot of daydreaming about him and a couple of recounts of sex with my exes. I was angry at him for having searched for it and read it, but angrier that he told me - one day he announced he was so curious he was going to go hunting for it, and I replied, "If you do manage to find it, you must never tell me."

The thing is, there's nothing here I wouldn't have wanted him to read. I just didn't want to be restricted knowing that someone out there is reading it and knows who I am. To me, it's been a place to play, to put my reveries and memories into words.

It's all different now that Eyes and I have bitterness between us. And why? Well, lots of reasons, the most recent of which is that in spite of not finding much exciting to read in this blog, he pursued, right back into the archives, which of course is human nature, but then having discovered a fantasy about someone else, he decided to get shitty, and give me ye olde silent treatment.

What do I have to say about that? Baby, grow up.

I am disappointed and furious with him. Possibly enough to change the focus of my blog from sex to no-holds-barred emotion - rage, sadness, ranting, whatever. Right now I couldn't give a dog's dick if he reads it and gets offended. And when I'm mad I can be really, really mean.

I'm gonna sleep on this, and if I'm still furious, that's it, he cops it. Immature as that may sound, he has made himself unavailable for actual grown-up talking, so my venting will therefore occur as I damn well please. Here's to Blotching (blog bitching).

this blog needs to die

2005-07-20T17:23:00.000+10:00

I think I will have to abandon Thigh Pilot. Eyes has discovered it, and it's no longer a secret. Sigh. It was good while it lasted.

Tamzin

you're right!

2005-07-09T20:51:00.000+10:00

Rupert says I haven't been blogging much lately. He's right. Sorry. It's partly a symptom of being busy with work, the old 9 to 5 grind - I don't want to talk about that side of my life here because it's inane - and partly because I haven't felt like writing about sex lately. I'm having a break, sometimes I feel I've said all I can about sex and I'm just rehashing old entries, and I run out of ways to say fuck pussy and cock, even though there sure are moments I want to record and share.

It's funny having a sex blog. I almost feel under pressure to tell everything about my sex life sometimes, which I don't mind at all, but if I don't feel like writing about it for a while it's something akin to guilt, and I find myself procrastinating just like I used to at uni. But hey, fans, if I can call you that, rest assured that I operate in waves, and soon the urge will return and I will purge and splurge and spray all manner of juices in your d-erection.

Tam

I figured out how to use my dildo

2005-07-01T17:21:00.000+10:00

you?re probably thinking duh, you just turn it on and plunge it in. well I can do that easily enough but it doesn?t do all that much, with the result that my black rubber cock sits in a drawer most of the time gathering fanny-flavoured dust. those of us who require clitoral attention for real pleasure think of the actual vag as a secondary component. one of my high school friends once said ?it?s dodgy, that hole. it shouldn?t even be there.? things can plunge in and out of there all they like but for me it?s not enough, I need to have pressure around my clitoris as well.

so this morning, hungover and horny, I showered and then got straight back into bed, naked, because I was too hammered to even get dressed and start the day. I never sleep naked ? I get too cold ? so slipping under a cosy quilt with no clothes on is an exciting novelty for me. I touch myself and pretend I?m someone else. my tits feel wonderful: buoyant and fruity, my snatch is smooth until I get to the slit and there it?s hot and creamy and when I touch it there I take a loud suck of air and lick my lips. today I was wriggling into my sheet, grinding around on the mattress, and I decided to reach for my vibrator for the first time in a while.

I should mention that when I masturbate I rarely finger myself. it?s all about the clit. if I?m doing it in front of someone else it?s a different story, I play it up much more and I do finger myself then, but when I?m alone I have a special way of making myself come that I have done since I was a little girl. I usually lie on my belly, one hand between my legs right up at the crotch, and I squeeze my thighs tight on my hand while gently pressing it into my pussy. I can orgasm quickly, multiple times, sometimes for a couple of hours (usually when I?m comatose from drugs or drinking).

so today I got the best of both worlds when I began to fuck my dildo but soon got frustrated by the lack of sensation at my clit, so I rolled over and touched myself in the usual way with the dildo still inside me, gently humming away. ah, what a revolution. the smell of pussy was all around me, on my hands, my vibrator, and oh how I wanted to be fucked. I came about five times before I wiped all the womb juice off and put it away.

I think I?ll do it again now.

i have a new name for my pussy

2005-06-29T15:54:00.000+10:00

I'm calling her Femi-nest.

sometimes I think I'm a man

2005-06-06T13:20:00.000+10:00

I'm not really turned on by the bodies of men. They're all hard and hairy, I think of them as utilities rather than beautiful pieces of aesthetic harmony. In bed with men I tend to receive much more than I give - I simply don't like the action of yanking a cock up and down, it seems primitive, and if ever I do it I find myself getting bored regardless of the apparent pleasure of the man, and I just want his hands to be on me. It's not like I just sit back and take, but I've noticed that when I'm purely receiving and writhing and moaning in a state of dripping hysteria, the man is much more turned on than if I'm 'giving' to him, I guess because I enjoy myself a lot more when it's him being responsible for my pleasure and not the other way around. Men feel proud when what they are doing appears to be working, as if they've conquered a tricky piece of machinery, but women feel no such satisfaction, or at least, to a much less extent. Maybe it's part of being a confident person. I feel no obligation to please my partner if it doesn't please me. I am not the kind of girl who will bend over and be whipped if I don't like the idea. I know there are many women who would, just to make their partner happy. Maybe I'm just selfish.

But this is all contrary to the way I feel about women. I have only slept with one woman, and I remember the feeling of her tits in my hands, the graceful way that her slim white arms rose and fell as I stroked them, the almost painful shocks of pleasure when I put my finger in the hot flesh of her pussy, the way she licked mine with a soft patient tongue. When I think about sex, at least half of my fantasies are about girls. When I am fantasising men it is inevitably the fucking that I am craving, it's the slam of his meaty cock all the way inside me, it's being ravished and pounded roughly, furiously, having the moans pumped out of me.

Even my own splendid vagina makes me excited. I love thinking about that place, that slit that is the inside of woman, place of strange smells and intoxicating mystery. I imagine girls squatting, leaning naked against a wall, their legs spread so wide that the little pink beak of their pussy looks like a small creature nesting there, mouth open hungry, waiting to be fed.

In fantasies that involve men it's always him playing with my cunt. I don't think I've ever visualised me playing with a penis, except with my lips and tongue - that is the exception, I love giving head because I love the way the cock feels in my mouth. My hand however is hardly the wet muscle that my tongue is, so stroking or masturbating penises is just boring for me. Clearly I need more vagina and tit in my life. One thing I've never done is rub my pussy hard against another, right in the pink parts, like with legs scissored around one another. I imagine it would feel divine.

if he were here

2005-05-24T14:45:00.000+10:00

I'd sit on my big cane chair facing the bed naked in candlelight the candle would flicker and cast the shadow of my raised knee on the wall my feet would touch the chair near my bottom I would grin and delicately sip a Merlot. He'd lie back and watch with interest while I'd use my whole hand to gently caress back and forth the soft triangle of fuzz under my belly button and maybe I'd squeeze my muscles to make the pink wet slit make winking noises, quiet sticky little kisses and the room would smell like my pussy. He'd bring his face to my crotch and inhale because he likes the scent of cunt and he'd put his tongue there, right down the bottom to the very edge and so close to my arse that I'd wriggle and squeal and then he'd casually lick in one big line all the way to the top and we'd be lost, him in the taste and smell of vagina, me in the sensation of his slippery hot tongue pressing my flesh. He'd put his cock there and rub it till the blood made it so hard he'd feel it stretching tendons in his thighs and he'd get wet too - wet from my juice wet from his juice, from the little white droplets that would squeeze from his eye and make that throbbing head all the more tantalising...

pervin' USA

2005-05-20T12:54:00.000+10:00

I seem to have lots of American readers. Is that true? Come on, say hello.

She's Back

2005-05-17T00:44:00.000+10:00

Wow. It's been weeks since I last posted. My only excuse is that I've been somewhat overwhelmed. Lots of sex going on, lots of slippery vulva squishy condom piles, romance, a threesome, dildo shopping. I feel like I've let myself down by not documenting it all, but you know, I can't go back and do it now. That's largely the thing that stops me, feeling like there is a vast pile of backed up in-tray waiting to be exorcised before I can start afresh. I defy this limitation and will start from right now instead.

Actually there's nothing much going on right now. In between writing I like to sit with my hand inside my pants stroking the little bit of fluff and resting my finger in the bit where it just begins to be pink and warm because tonight I'm alone, if there is any sex about to happen it will be on the inside of my brain. Sometimes I like to wonder what my male flatmate would do if I just went into his room and took off my clothes. There's nothing between us at all, neither of us are in the least attracted to the other, but still, I'd like to know what his penis tastes like, whether he would let me put it in my mouth or if he'd bat me away, throw me into the hall and slam his door shut. We both know he needs to get laid, he talks about it all the time. These are things one can ponder safe in the knowledge that it will never transgress the boundary of fantasy.

I have discovered the pleasure of clandestine sex in public places. Before recently, the sum total of my public escapades were limited to: a dark train station; against a fridge in someone's front yard (again it was night time); in some bushes. That's about it. Not even a toilet cubicle. Now I adore toilet cubicles; parks in daylight surrounded by joggers; in Eyes's office.

And you?

I got to thinking about gay beats recently, how kind of cool and kind of yuck they are. Stinky toilets where men go to have their dick sucked anonymously by another guy, no introductions or formalities, then they depart. I wondered if the hetero equivalent would work? It would have to always be the guy waiting around in the hopes that some girl would come along and fuck him, never the other way around. If word spread that at a certain cubicle at a certain time there would likely be some woman pacing back and forth self-lubricating fantasising about anonymous jabbing by whatever stiff penis came along first, there would be veritable queues of men ranging from the curious to the desperate, knifing each other out of the way to get in first. I couldn't do it, I'd be too picky, I'd spend all day saying 'not you, not you, not you,' then trying to first converse with the ones who passed the inital physical inspection in order to ascertain that I would not be copulating with an idiot. Besides, women don't have to try. If we want sex, all we have to do is announce to the nearest suitable male and 96% of the time he will oblige.

But we all knew that anyway.

belly

2005-03-17T20:11:00.000+11:00

Well, every now and then we still have sex - It's never all that mind blowing but it's good enough, but the daft thing is that it only really happens when he's drunk, otherwise he's too sensible to "go there" I guess - So he was drunk after a bucks night and out of the blue I got a call, it was Belly wondering what I was doing - I replied that I wasn't doing anything, that I was going to sleep - He told me he was drunk (No! Really?) and wanted an escape from the bucks night since they'd started drinking at 8:30 that morning on a fishing boat and, needless to say, dear Belly was off chops - So I told him to come over, having no intention of having sex with him, knowing very well that he would try his best, and that, my friends, is exactly what happened.

He made himself at home, sprawled out on my bed and stripped off his shirt and pants down to just his boxers - This didn't bother me in the slightest - Belly and I are good friends, same as always except now we are exes too, and we don't mind occasionally shagging each other, it doesn't seem to complicate anything - So he stroked me all over while he was murmuring half slurred things and I gave him a good whack whenever he approached the No Go Zones and he laughed and tried somewhere else, eventually got the message, anyway I was enjoying refusing him any pleasure, and we slept all cosy and cuddled and he put little kisses on my neck and face.

It was the night after that I gave in - We spent the day at the beach and I went back to his place afterward for a drink and to choose some CDs to burn - A friend came over and brought more drinks, before I knew it I'd had three ciders and Belly had gone to bed, invited me in there but I refused and told him I would use the spare - He was quietly snoring when I opened his door and flashed his light on and off to wake him and ask if I could use his toothbrush and of course he said yes but then he peeled back his doona and gestured for me to join him, I declined and brushed my teeth, opened his door again and ran in and straddled him and giggled and put my face up close to his, pretending I was going to kiss him, then I just laughed and jumped off, turned off the light, closed the door and reclined on the couch.

I heard him calling my name but ignored him - So simple is the brain of the male, so easy to predict - Soon enough the door opened and he strutted out, naked, led by an angsty erection, came over to me and looked at me, grinning, and I told him to go back to bed - He did - But not for long - Came out minutes later, this time wearing a towel, and fell down on me as I was lying there on the couch in a denim mini skirt and a loose black top - He just hugged me, he's good at hugs because he's chunky, and soon he was subtly undulating on top of me, I just told him to forget it, it wasn't going to happen.

Slight memory hole here - The next thing I clearly recall is sitting up on the arm of the couch, taking off my top, taking off my bra and flinging it to the floor, leaving on my skirt, and touching my pussy with my finger - He kept his eyes on me, my tits, my hand at its game, kept trying to touch me but I would just laugh and slap his hand and say No! You watch. He took the towel off and sat there rubbing his dick, but I didn't like that either, I wanted him to suffer a little, so I said No! Don't touch, you sit still.

I was really getting into it, wiggling all around and I could feel how turned on I was, there was juice on the insides of my thighs, and he kept moving his hand near me and I kept saying no then finally he said Just one touch, so I let him touch me there just one time and the minute he pressed his finger on the damp flesh he sucked in a sharp breath and sighed, but then I smacked him away again, and he said I want to fuck you with your skirt on and I said I am NOT going to let you fuck me and he said That's a shame, that's such a shame and continued sitting on the other side of the couch rubbing his cock up and down, he has a nice tall fat cock, he's not all that attractive but his shareware is marvellous, and this time I let him, watched him jerk off to me slowly rubbing away.

Finally I said Feel how wet I am and he sprung to action and is knelt in front of me, still propped up on the arm of the couch, and our mouths teased each other with the threat of kisses, and his mushroom head slid over my wet open lips and we both moaned, then the kisses got deeper and he put his cock in just a little bit and the first plunge is always the best you know, before everything is loosened and friction is working its proper magic, and soon he pushed in all the way and we were fucking hard, me leaning back a little to meet his cock with my open cunt, him grabbing me by the arse and thrusting hard, really hard, I like to be fucked really hard from that angle.

Then he sat himself back and pulled me on top of him - We made love like that for a while, catching our breath, me still in the mini, fly undone and shoved up to my hips, and then I said Can you fuck me from behind? - He gave me a dirty smile - I hauled him to his feet - The corridor was softly lit, at the very end stood a full length mirror - I took him there and placed my hands on either side of the mirror and bent over with my tits hanging - Lifted my skirt a little higher so you could see the little triangle just below the hem, I put his finger there, and bent down further so he could get his cock all the way in, then we were at it again - Humping like crazy - I took one big hand, the one that wasn't massaging my clit, and wrapped it around my tit - Just then he gave a ferocious groan, rubbed both tits maniacally back and forth, I panted hard, wondering how much the neighbours could hear - And that was it. Blew into his hand, we caught our breath and fucked again in the middle of the night - Slowly, spoon style.

Fun - But after Eyes everything seems rather lacklustre - Audience, if you're out there, Eyes is visiting me next week, for a whole seven days, and I daresay the sex will be something to write home about - He arrives Wed March 23 - Want the gory details???

eyes

2005-03-04T14:25:00.000+11:00

He makes me climax until I cry - It happens sometimes, when I find my body trembling like there's a freight train running straight up my spine thundering toward my brain, when I am panting and breathless and clutching at his shoulders with my fingernails, when I am crying out so loudly it's deafening and he's moaning with me and saying Oh baby, Tam Tam Tam come baby come...

I don't get to see Eyes very often - I guess that's why we have such voracious sex, the very sight of him, the sound of his voice makes me lick my lips and subconsciously open my legs a little wider - His touch is so soft to begin with, so rare in a man to know to touch a woman so gently, to touch her everywhere not poke straight at her pussy, his tongue responds to mine as if programmed, attached to it with wires, our tongues are like erotic dancers stripped not only of clothing but of epidermis and bone, two salacious red flesh stripteasers ribboning around each other, rubbing and licking as if to drain the other of juice, meanwhile he will simply place a warm hand on the inside of my thigh and leave it there and the mere suggestion, the tease, makes me so hot I squirm in his arms and he kisses me harder, hell I'm getting wet just sitting here recalling it in my mind, he's open to suggestion, he likes being told what to do, so I send him over to the wall with his cock so hard he could use it as a clothes rack and I make him hold it and rub it a little while I sit watching on his bed, naked, my legs spread, smiling at him - It doesn't take long before I lick a finger and touch myself with it, he moans at the sight and says Come here but I don't, I just sit there in silence and the only sounds are our hard breathing and the squelch of my self-pleasuring and he's watching me with those eyes, oh God those eyes, his whole self is in those eyes, those toasty yellow eyes that look like grapefruit Broulee, fiery and savage, coupled with that open mouth and the slight grin of pleasure he looks almost crazed, like a madman about to kill, bloodthirsty.

But then it's too much and I go to him and his voice says oooh from somewhere in his belly and I touch my pussy a little with his cock, so hard, and he whispers oh you're so, so wet, you beautiful beautiful girl, you are so hot and already I'm trembling, convulsing when his warm dick runs over the part just above my clitoris, and it's too much again and he's got my leg over his arm and he's bending down a little and I'm on my toes, and when it slips in, well I guess you can imagine the cries of delight, I want him so far inside me that I feel the ache in my navel; in my ribs; all the way up to my skull - We bash together at the groin and I say Oh honey you feel so good, fuck me hard, so he picks up both my legs and spins me around and I'm mashed against the wall, helpless, while he pounds away, his legs turbulent from the effort of standing but still steady, both of us calling out into the night, me sounding almost as if I'm half laughing half in pain and him doing that grunting thing he does when he's coming...

And in the aftermath we writhe in the slime and the smell and the sweat.

The whole room smells like vagina, I say, and he smiles and kisses my pussy, all sloppy, and says, Yes, it's the best smell in the world, and he tells me that mine has a special sweet flavour, that some don't taste so good but mine does, and we lie sideways with our legs slumped like squids and we kiss and kiss and kiss and kiss and kiss and kiss and kiss and kiss and kiss and right now between my legs things are happening and before I post this I may have to...humour myself for a little while.

the one thing a pussy craves

2005-02-15T00:52:00.000+11:00

If there is one thing I feel a lack of in my life it is really decent cunnilingus - I've heard that some girls are way less fussy than me when it comes to man tongue in their meat flaps, but I've also heard that by all other respects I am ultra enthusiastic and molto wriggliamo - When someone has their face muscle in my pussy I immediately become a critic - I can very easily be turned off by the wrong amount of pressure at the outset - It MUST begin gently like a puppy tentatively exploring a new shoe or I will back off like a tractor in reverse and call the whole thing quits - once I am turned off it's all over and really there's no hope of redeeming the situation unless there are copious amounts of drugs on hand in which case I will have much lower standards and will be frighteningly easily pleased. On drugs I have been known to get so excited merely by the presence of a man in the room that I have ripped off my own clothes and delved with both hands into my pussy, panting "Oh, is it ok if I do this? Ooh, I just feel like touching myself..." much to the delight of the onlooking male - This has happened twice and I was enchanted to find the same reaction in both men - They took to watching me silently, letting me masturbate on the edge of my bed, then eventually they put my hands on me, joining me down below where everything was wet and squelchy, then took out their cocks and pressed into me, still watching my face and my wriggling hips.

I love it how men are so visual - It doesn't matter so much what your body is like, as long as there are hips and tits and belly and it's all moving around just for them, their cock will be big and hard and they won't take their eyes off you, and all they can think about is that red-hot dart between their legs sinking into your fishy wet cave, and if you can think like a man for a minute, what a fucking ecstatic thing it must be to plunge your hard pink muscle into that fleshy wet cave, and even better than that, they're making you gasp and breathe like you're shooting heavenwards, and it makes them so proud - They're all goal-oriented you know, they all want to achieve results - And you are their project at this point in time and they're making something of you, in their little minds they are winding you up and making you work like a power tool.

I say, forget every little self-conscious issue you have with your imperfect body - Everybody has an imperfect body - and just enjoy enjoy enjoy, act like the slut from hell who was born to get off, and you will be a riot, a veritable zoo-fuck. All you need to do to be good in bed is manipulate the situation so that you enjoy it. That's what I say.

platonic

2005-02-13T22:54:00.000+11:00

I have a very odd relationship with a man - He adores me, he is in love with me, he has recently come to admit it and now it is almost a running joke in our friendship, and though I am fond of him and feel one hundred percent comfortable in his presence and we understand each other perfectly, I'm just not attracted to him in 'that way' - Because he's always keen to be around me I end up hanging out with him more than anyone - we share similar senses of humour, we like to collaborate in writing projects sometimes, at first there was a bit of kissing and so on but I put a stop to it nearly straight away because he was so full on and serious and there was just no way I was going to be his girlfriend - And we've slept in the same bed although now I insist that he sleeps on the couch - We diss each other endlessly and it's fun until he gets offended, he's a sensitive thing, much older than I am but much less mature, in constant need of attention and validation in a kind of half endearing, half pathetic way, and I love having him around but the idea of taking it any further is nauseating and he knows I feel this way. Now, is hanging out with him leading him on, giving him the wrong idea? Sometimes I think he's so naive that he really believes one day I will crack and things will change and I will fall in love with him or fuck him or let him touch my pussy or something - Actually I think I already let him once but I was drunk and on drugs and it was a mistake.

A few days ago he came out with:

"Tamzin, I hope you get fat. I hope you get really really fat because then nobody else would want you and you'd have to take me."

Hopeless romantic, hapless pathos - Plus he smells bad - Don't tell him that - The problem is, he is male, and he gives me loads of attention, and sometimes I am tempted to see what it would be like to fuck him, and it takes all my rational self and willpower to dismiss the idea - Like last night we were watching DVDs in my bedroom and we were stoned - When I'm stoned I get unbelievably horny, my pussy just starts throbbing and all I can think about is the nearest warm finger rubbing it back and forth, I get all wet just lying there fantasising and fucked if I know what the movie was about, and it was dark you know, and it would have only taken one sideways roll to be pressed up against his big smelly body, and I thought about what it would look like if I just lifted my shirt and pulled out my tits - He knows that I don't want anything sexual between us and in his own stupid head he probably agrees that it's the best way to go about things but really, if it came to the point where I was writhing and panting with my top pulled up and my hand dipping into the front of my pants and my knees collapsing to the sides, do you think he'd say, er, Tammy, what are you doing? You'd best stop that right away...? No - He would stare with big happy eyes and he would crane his face forward for our mouths to meet and he would bend his crotch ever so slightly in my direction when I began to rub his stiff dick - And seriously, when it gets to that point there's really no point in stopping, you've done it already, if it's gonna change the dynamic of your friendship then rubbing each other's genitals is enough to make that happen - So I just lay there and fought off the temptation and tried to think of how not turned on I am by him when I'm straight.

Being stoned is bad.

But my pussy doesn't think so - She gets the munchies.

the next best thing to being there

2005-02-06T23:12:00.000+11:00

Sometimes in the absence of real live fucking I have to make to with what's in my head, and my fingers and hands and a mirror - Eyes is constantly in my naughty reveries right now, the memory of him has infected my blood and brain and heart, and in my mind I walk into his room over and over and each time something different happens - I just finished reading Dorothy Porter's The Monkey's Mask and found myself particularly affected when a male character unzipped his fly and said to the female protagonist, "Suck me." I've never had anyone say that to me - I internalised the phrase straight away and imagined it coming from Eyes, standing there in his black jeans with his shirt off, so hungry for my tongue on his cock that he lets it burst through his fly and it stands there alert and ready, waiting, and Eyes wraps one fist around it and burns me with those fierce eyes like he's daring me to say no, and of course I can't and I just buckle at the knees fully clothed and head downwards but not before telling him to

Say that again.

So he looks right at me still holding it in his fist and says

Suck me.

I'm getting thrills just writing this, I can't believe what a turn on it is, I am so close to calling him and telling him this dirty thought of mine, I know he would suck a sharp inhalation then go to bed with his hand in his pants and his wayward dick snaking all around - Last time I called him I asked what he was doing and he said in his charming boyish way

Um, I just got into bed and was falling asleep with my hand on my penis.

God, it isn't fair - I've never wanted to fuck someone this much but he lives interstate and I won't get to see him until probably late February - But when I do that boy is gonna get such a thrashing - I picture myself crawling around the floor of his bedroom in candlelight, naked, with my arse in the air and my pink kissyfish parading all around like a big winking eye, prowling like a panther while he reclines, naked, watching me, hands behind his head, cock banana swollen, doing that sexy frown that he does when he's turned on - I'd like to chain this one up, I've never chained anyone up before, never had the urge, men are so easy to please anyway, but this one is so shivery and ultra-responsive, as if his skin is translucent membrane like newborn kittens' eyelids all soft and uber fragile - He's the kind who likes to say your name while he's fucking you - Tamzin, Tamzin Tammy oarh, Tam, Tammy ? I'm undecided about that but it's definitely thrilling in a way, maybe not a turn on per se, but it satisfies some need for attention I think.

He makes me want to open my legs so wide you could hear the ocean.

wow

2005-02-05T15:56:00.000+11:00

I seem to have clocked up nearly 850 hits already so I thought I would do kinda something like a survey - I'm going to ask for some comments now - Who's reading? Boys? Girls? Straight? Gay? Turtledoves?

Don't be afraid to leave a comment if you're reading this ages after it was posted - This is an ongoing investigation - All comments ccome straight through to my email. Go sick.

I kinda want to wind it up like a handle

2005-02-01T15:52:00.000+11:00

In spite of loving sex, thinking about sex, writing about sex, talking about sex, being rather crude - too crude for some people, I'm not really one for porn, cunt shots, dick shots etc - I mean, I don't mind all that stuff, but it's not really what I'm into - To me that is all comedy, I watch hardcore porn sometimes for a laugh, I can't take it seriously and it doesn't turn me on at all - I much prefer soft porn, erotica, something with feeling rather than two pieces of meat banging away - Which is why I was surprised to find myself daydreaming quite a lot about this man's dick.

Quite a nice penis, yes? It has a sweet curiosity about it - It reminds me of friends who are quietly confident - Earthy, stable people who have a nice energy about them - More than that though it's purely the aesthetics of the thing, maybe it's the way the photo turned out but it just looks so robust and healthy, so tubular and smooth, that when I saw it I immediately tried to enlarge the picture - no luck - then I stared at it a while longer and before I knew it my imagination had it sliding up and down the inside of my thighs looking for a nice place to hang out, and I could feel it plunging straight into my pussy all the way to the end of the tunnel, and I went to my bed and layed sideways and put my hand there and soon I was breathless and sweating, I just couldn't help it - I wondered whether this might be the beginning of finally getting something out of dick pictures? Apologies to the man who owns the dick - I guess if you put a picture of your own dick in your blog you won't really feel traumatised by a stranger stealing its effigy and toying with it in their mind, but I do feel the need to say sorry for some reason, like I've used your image without your permission or something. Sorry - You got a nice cock, is all.

Sex now.

2005-01-28T18:32:00.000+11:00

Tonight my vagina and I have decided that we would like to have some sex, if you don't mind.

Eyes

2005-01-28T11:39:00.000+11:00

It was recently - We had a good old-fashioned fuck affair, one that lasted a week, then he went back to his home interstate, and I went mental knowing I would be eternally dissatisfied with sex forevermore unless I was having it with him - This man with the eyes, ooooh ladies, I'm blushing forehead to toes just thinking about it, I sting with lack like I'm being tattooed beneath my eyelids and there ain't nuthin I can do about it - Eyes feline, yellowish green, something out of a bag of props or a jar in a craft shop full of mixed dolls eyes - Not just that though, he's all muscly in the right ways, just enough bicep bump to keep me pleased, little flat belly, nice solid trunkish legs, square forehead and cheeks that dip to a fine little chin, brown hair that I insisted had flecks of ginger but he vehemently disagreed, extraordinarily sensitive nipples, super-sensitive everything in fact, put it all together and you have a distressingly attractive man who knows without a doubt that he is gorgeous but still somehow manages to be down to earth and not egocentric in the slightest.

Those eyes, those fucking eyes - Not just that though, I mean, a boy who looks that good is bound to be bad in some way - Perhaps stupid, or a bastard, or a wrong kisser, or a bad cook, or farts in bed, or is too rough in bed, or wears terrible shoes, or spits gollies into your kitchen sink, or gives really bad massages. Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, the man is fucking perfect - Not only because he is/does none of the bad things listed above, but my dears, he is passionate about words, creative, hideously intelligent, friendly and sociable, smells nice tastes nice smiles nice laughs lots and oh fuck oh fuck, holy fuck, the way he fucks makes love makes sex makes touch kiss tongue melt fuuuuuuuucccccccckkkkkkkkk....

Made only more appropriate by the fact that he lives in another town and therefore is fleeting and unattainable, otherwise I might be tying myself in knots...

It's the whole ultrabodytantrachakrabreathing thing, you know? Five minute fuck? Not this man - He just does this breathing thing and 'sends energy to his head and other chakras' (yes it sounds fruity, I don't really care) and instead of just blowing he starts to shake, shudder more like it, and he puts his hand somewhere on me - a breast or forehead or lips, and takes me somewhere or does something because suddenly I'm shuddering too, buzzing as if I'm holding an electric fence, and there are orgasms now, orgasms orgasms orgasms that beat me into submission with their ferocity, and I have no concept of sound or anything outside the shaking of our naked sweating bodies, and once I burst into tears it just felt so...emotional? No, wrong word. Just so intense, I can't explain it, and I'm so amazed that someone I just met can do this to me and by the time he leaves I feel like I've known him for years.

He said I am more responsive than most - He said sex with me is phenomenal - He said I respond so easily, I said that he responded more than anyone I'd ever come across, which fits my theory that there's no such thing as 'good in bed,' just an ability to lose yourself, and enthusiasm, and trust - I would kiss him and he would melt into my mouth and I could feel him doing that thing that I do where I just become my tongue, I give it free reign, I lend it my brain and my heart and, so armed, it sets off on its own private exploration - Others kiss with the rest of the body in mind, or think about the situation or what comes next or the rest of the world - Nay, one must become ones kisses in order to make them the sublime mini-fucks they are meant to be - So we kissed and kissed, Eyes and I, and remarked with neon exclamations how perfectly we kissed, how well our tongues liked each other, liked all the bits of our bodies, oh, sitting here typing, I just want to rip off my clothes and conjure his image and take to myself with a dildo and a paw paw.

On the last day I walked him to the train station.

"I'm really not into this, this whole leaving thing, this you-going-home business. It doesn't suit me at all," I said.

"Yeah, it's weird isn't it?" He clocked me with those fierce eyes and I wobbled a little.

At the ticket gates we hugged one more time and then I turned and left, risking a glance backward as I neared the station stairs, and wouldn't you know it, at that point he turned for one last peek as well - Like a fucking romance movie - And I smiled and kept walking - Partway up the street he sent me an SMS - Girl, I fucken adore you.

Pray that I will see him again sometime.

Belly

2005-01-22T22:37:00.000+11:00

Last Friday - Get a call on my mobile about 11pm - It's Belly, he's jolly and full of beer, he's in the hood and wants to know where I'm at and what I'm doing - The place I'm at is a hot crowded room in a warehouse, a gig that was going great but for the lack of ventilation, so I tell him I'm probably about to leave and I can meet up with him if he wants - Recently I had a little affair with a gorgeous man and Belly, my ex, is a little jealous, suddenly paying me more attention, asking subtle questions and trying to be cool - We're friends now, there aren't any hard feelings and there's no feeling of loss - It wasn't a very long relationship - but sometimes we fuck.

So we meet up and he's sprawled on some grass scribbling in a notebook and I run and jump on him and there are drunk people everywhere, you get that in Sydney on a Friday night - you get that in Sydney every night - and he's broke so I buy us both beers and because my house isn't far away we both go back there. He's swerve-walking along and jiving and saying funny shit and I'm hungry for the crackers and hommous I just bought at a late-night deli and he limps because his knee hurts - We get to my place and pour some beer, open the dip and crackers, head to my bedroom - He's pissed and silly but still drinks the beer twice as fast as me and it's hot so I take off my red pants and red Chinese top leaving a canary yellow ensemble: short skirt, tight singlet, wrist bangle, all the same shade of yellow. I've never seen you dressed all in one colour before he says smiling, looking at my legs as I sit side-saddle in my cane chair and flick to different tracks on my stereo - He is affectionate tonight, I always like it when he's playful because sobriety equals sombriety where Belly is concerned, or maybe it's just shyness - I find it drab and unappealing and would much prefer gambolling and friskiness to dry sensibility - After all, there's nothing wrong with exes fucking if neither thinks anything of it, and I know I don't though I think sometimes he thinks that I do, or is that just his excuse for his own fear? That he's just looking out for me?

Well thanks Belly that's very noble but I can look after myself, I'm a big girl, well I don't mean girth or curves I just mean I'm a grown-up ok?

He takes off his shirt and reclines on the bed with his arms stretched above him and I look with approval at his big white belly - Goatee was a slight man, all skin and bones and waif, and I came to love it, came to think that I had a thing for skinny men, perhaps it was the power, my ability to physically dominate or at least match Goatee in wrestles and such, but after being with Belly, who is not fat, just meaty and cuddly, I don't think I could go back to slight - I like lots of man, enough to go all the way round, enough to smother me and make me feel like I'm baking in dough, with enough weight behind it to slam me when I just want to be pounded - That's the thing about sex with Belly is it's always fierce and hard because that's often just the way it is with a man who has lots of self attached to him.

Can I take off my shorts? he says after a while, he's wearing a baggy pair of three-quarter trousers and a belt with his keys attached, a big assortment of jangling metal bits that always make me feel uncomfortable as if I'm wearing them myself, like that empathy discomfort you feel when it's a hot day and you see someone wearing a thick jumper and you sweat by proxy - And I say sure, you can take off anything you like, we are quite comfortable with each other, often lying about in each other's arms or lolling with our heads resting on the other, there's no other person I do this with and it's odd in a beautiful way because there's really no sexual tension to speak of (well, perhaps a little bit, but only as much as a heterosexual man and woman will always have, by default) and no feeling that we should maintain physical distance, it's like he's really just a friend who I happened to fuck for a while. So he takes off his shorts and his boxers and just lays there all big and naked on my bedsheet with the light and the lamp on, shielding his eyes, sort of dozing but not, laughing and talking sleepy nonsense - After a while I join him on the bed and say well you're not going anywhere in this state, you're staying here.

I get ready for bed, slightly drunk myself but not as much as he, happy that we had hooked up because we had talked a bit about the other people in my life which is something we never do - I assume he doesn't want to know and he never asks, though I always keep track of girls he shags in a good natured way because I'm interested, and I think he needs a girlfriend and always tell him so, and with Belly it isn't hard anyway because he's shy and doesn't get laid much - Anyway I shove him over and crawl into bed and he's softly snoozing and is on his way to heavy sleep, and I can't resist -

I lick his cock.

It looks so tasty and raw and I love the feeling of my tongue dragging along the skin of a cock, cocks are such meaty things, such responsive animals, often I get the urge (but resist) to sink my teeth in and bite hard, like the urges I used to have when young when I would chew bubblegum and would be overcome by the instinct to swallow - Sometimes I did swallow - Anyway with my tongue pressing all flat against his dick like that I guess I shouldn't be surprised that he woke up and began to frown and moan and move a little and I guess I didn't stop to think what I might have started.

Now, I like the tease. Anyone sticks their finger straight into my vagina will most likely get a slap, I like the hot breath on the panties, the fingers skirting round the thighs, the hovering just above everything, the promise of what might be if I'm lucky, and I have trained Belly well in this respect. Gentle, I would say to him when he would head downward with his tongue dripping. I like it soft, really really soft, so soft you can hardly tell if you're touching me. It's true, I get off on suggestion, I wriggle and squirm and buck at the most delicate of licks and kisses, but it's a fine line - once my threshold is prematurely blasted with too much thick, fat tongue, the show is over and I switch off - Belly tongues my pink folds so lightly it's like breath - I catch mine in my throat as if it's a wayward weasel escaping a sack - He talks to me, says perverted things and I answer with half-lungs -

You love it don't you - Oh I love it - You love the feeling of my cock pressing into you - You're so sweet, your pussy is so sweet, Oh god look how much it wants my cock - I moan - You fuck better than anyone - I love it, do it more - Come on baby, that's right, come...

And I get up and move a little so I can watch us in my mirror, and he moans when he sees what I'm doing and rubs my tits as they bounce around and we look at ourselves and buck harder, I love the sight of myself fucking, being fucked, it looks so good - He put his head back so that his neck showed and the sweat was pouring from both of us, I love the feeling of a man's hands grasping my hips down near the arse as he just bangs away from behind...

Then we shower - By now it's nearly dawn - The kisses are slow now, and tender, and we sleep naked parcel-wrapped in flesh like little Sang Choy Bow entrees.

Goatee

2005-01-21T10:49:00.000+11:00

So after that Goatee and I got into the swing of things - He had a natural passion about him in spite of his limited experience, sometimes people are still lip-bruising teeth gnashers or the kind who kiss with their mouths wide open even after they've snogged and rooted their way through thousands of people but Goatee was the kind of man who could lose himself in a kiss and follow what your tongue is doing - I need my lovers to be responsive, I've been told I am highly responsive and enthusiastic - To me this is what makes someone good in bed, it has nothing to do with skill, it's all about feeling comfortable and just feeling your way along - If I can feel someone thinking I don't enjoy it very much at all.

So yeah, Goatee would kiss me with that wonderful soft tongue and we would play and I would sit on his lap afterward, naked, in the dark, all boobs and skin, once when I did that his eyes went wide for a minute, it was the first time he had really experienced woman properly, it was like giving him myself wrapped up as a present - I told him how much I loved having sex with him because it felt like he was really there with me - unlike my boyfriend before him who was the first guy I slept with and I was his first too and it was all about his dick and he kissed like a horrid gaping retard, once I asked him to "kiss me all over" because it just didn't feel like I thought sex should, and he got a funny look on his face and then quickly pocked me up and down on my stomach like you would do to a baby. When I found Goatee and I could sense that his kisses were his own curious exploration of his lips on my skin, and the touch of his finger was to him all about how it felt on the tip of his finger - like how it felt to him, you know, not thinking like an idiot would if it was turning me on enough or not - well that's when I really discovered sex, hell I might as well call it making love even though I hate that term, because that's really what it was, and I was so fucking grateful that there was a lot more to sex than I had come to expect with Gaping Retard.

I remember this one time - This afternoon at Goatee's house, a hot afternoon in Summer (we had met in November) - His flatmates were busily cleaning the backyard for a house inspection and I was languishing on his bed in his hot hot room - he lived in the shed out the back at the time - and he was ducking in and out, half helping out with the cleaning and half just arsing about - And we got to kissing and playing, we'd been having lots of sex but it was pretty conventional and endearingly he would put me in charge, just handing me the condom to roll it on for him because he didn't know what he was doing - But this time we were both still clothed when he started to finger me under my undies from behind, curled up against me spoon style on the bed, propped on one elbow, just silently watching me moan and watching my face change, carefully stroking away until I was so wet I was undulating and pressing myself back against his body - And I could tell he was getting less shy because he unzipped his fly for me and pulled out his nice dick and put it in my hand, I had been reaching for it but was too frenzied to really have much focus, and when I wrapped my fingers around it he drew in a sharp loud breath and then quietly groaned and we stayed like that for a while, toying at each other's bits, then he got to his knees and pulled me onto all fours and lifted up my skirt and pulled my undies aside and just put the warm tip of his cock against my buttered pussy and teased me a bit - cheeky - then just fucked me. He fucked me and fucked me and I remember this was the first time I was really gasping and bucking and losing control, it was like he became this other man, this self-assured in-control man who knew exactly what he was doing and I was his tight little concubine and he would throw me around as he pleased thankyou very much - It turned me on so much - So we fucked until he came and then he kept pleasing me, instictively - Lots of men will just stop after they have cum as if it's all over but Goatee kept playing and I came to call him my "Afterplay Guy" - We needed a mop after that.

Is this burning an Internal Flame?

2005-01-20T16:32:00.000+11:00

Since I'm not currently having loads of sex with any one person I think I will eke out some memories of former flames - I tend to think that recording a fuck-history for posterity is important, not sure why, not sure if it's a good idea to put it on the internet either - At this point all that matters is that the memory of good, bad, painful, spectacular, boring, clumsy, flowing greasy smooth fucking is documented.

There was a boyfriend once - he was very important to me - we were very important to each other - it lasted four years. He had blondy brown dreadlocks that started at shoulder length when I met him and grew all the way down to his arse by the time we broke up - Goatee and moustache too - I would chew on them sometimes, that wiry face hair, munching it in my molars - and of course sometimes I would complain that he was hard to kiss through all that fuzz, but he never shaved it off, and actually I came to like the beard - or at least to prefer it to stubble which is much more harsh, and don't even think about putting your splintery halfbeard near my tender pussy or I will rip your head off and bowl it down an alley.

He was shy and I liked it. My third long term boyfriend he was - we were 21 when it started and 25 when it ended - Before we had sex for the first time we mucked around a lot first, kissing and rolling and playing and all that, and I was surprised and kind of delighted to see that he was taking his time, that he didn't seem at all in a hurry to get his end in, and then he confessed -

"You know, I've only had sex once before."

I looked at him for a long time not quite knowing what to say - He was so beautiful and sexy and so charming and popular that I couldn't really believe it - He took my pause as embarrassment and disappointment but on the contrary I thought, wow, here is a genuine, soft-centred man, frightened but eager, who I can train to satisfy my style completely, and I melted, and I loved him for it, and a few weeks later I was hit by the realisation that I was utterly in love with him.

The first time we had sex was at his parent's house - We were staying there while they were away, a nice big clean house with a swimming pool - Getting his parent's bed sheets all dirty because he was so shy that he would cum before anything could happen and would nearly hang his head in shame but I would snuggle up and press my sweaty body all over his and caress and kiss him more and tell him that it didn't matter in the slightest - He was so grateful - He would whisper you're so good and tickle me all over with his gingerish goatee and fall asleep with his arms and legs wrapped tightly around me like he thought I might slide away in the night - But then in the bathroom when he got out of the shower and I went in to brush my teeth we were messing around and he was kissing the back of my neck while I leaned smiling over the bathroom sink then he took those soft fingers of his, how gentle was his touch, and slipped them into my pants, all warm and sweaty in there, and fingered me fingered me and he could see how excited I was, he took out his cock and rubbed it there so I leaned forward and he had no choice but to slip inside - Moaned with surprised pleasure - I was thrilled to be showing him his second ever adventure in sex - And of course it was over pretty fast but then I said to him,

"Ah, gorgeous, now we have begun."

Hot Sydney Nights

2005-01-19T23:22:00.000+11:00

Sometimes I find myself daydreaming with one warm finger down my pants in the folds of my crotch - juicy folds that I didn't realise were so wet - no reason for them to be wet really except that I'm lazily tracing them while I think about something or other - just sitting in my room and staring at the walls feeling horny and thinking about the animal smell of cocks. Men like to swim and fish around in there for a while yes inside vaginas and then smell and taste their fingers - once upon a time that disgusted me but then I progressed to fond indifference then finally graduated to excited approval - a man who nostrils the smell of woman from his finger is just dissolving into that seashell ocean mystery bliss and these days I don't mind men sniffing my ladyness from their fingers. Ooh I love the smell of woman on my hands they will say. Sometimes I grab their hand and suck hard on the tainted finger as if at a Callippo, taking my scent back into my own mouth, robbing them of the pleasure, grinning and saying "mine!"

I wouldn't say I am promiscuous though - I have only slept with, let's see, about a dozen men so far and I am in the 25-30 age bracket - oh I have had a lot of sex - relationships and some flings and a couple of one nighters and all that - but a blog that centres around the sex life of an anonymous woman would lead some to believe that she is a slut maybe or a nymph or something - but I'm not - I just like writing and talking about and thinking about and having sex - only recently have I stepped from a mindset of relative chastity to a carefree bold approach to sex - these days while I am single I want to fuck lots of men, lots of different kinds of men to see how they differ - I like the differences in styles although of course some suit me better than others but before or in case I find myself in a relationship again I just want to explore for a while and observe different kinds of fornication and salacious pleasures.

Cum with me now and all will be revealed.