ELust 99

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Welcome to Elust 99

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 #100 Start with the rules, come back November 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

Private Eyes
Brittle
Lust Highway

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

I love a man in a suit
Church Smells, Beliefs and Fornication

~Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

The House Next Door

*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*

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Handy Man

There’s a big disparity in the way we talk about pleasing people with penises versus pleasing people with vaginas / vulvas; one only need to Google “mystery of female orgasm” to see it (oh my god ALL THOSE ARTICLES).  Touching a vulva is seen as something that needs specific technique / dexterity / finesse – there are classes and books dedicated to it.  Handling a peen, on the other hand, is discussed flippantly if at all – due in part to the social narrative that men see hand jobs as a waste of time because they also have hands (as do I… but that doesn’t stop me from wanting other people to touch me with theirs!).

Because I talk about sex all the time to most of the people I come into contact with, I’ve met many a man who preferred hand jobs to blow jobs because the muscles in hands are so strong, because they don’t like the scraping of teeth, because the angle of manual sex is better for them, or for various other reasons.  I prefer giving hand jobs to giving blow jobs because I have chronic jaw pain; even when I do engage in oral sex, there’s a lot of manual stimulation thrown in.

And just as every woman likes to be touched in a way that’s unique to her, every man does, too.  When I’m with a new partner, I always ask: How do you like to be touched?  When you masturbate, what do you do?  Can you show me?  I like to put my hands over theirs so that I can practice the kinds of movements and rhythms that make them feel good.  I like to experiment, too; gently, at first, in case there’s something my partner doesn’t like.  Hand jobs are my favorite way to learn a new penis.  I prefer to think of them as a type of massage and really like integrating them into massaging other parts of my partners’ bodies.  I use both hands, I use oil, I ask if I can touch areas they may or may not be comfortable with: the base of the penis that lies behind the scrotum, their testicles, their anuses.

Hand jobs can be an amazing way to connect with a partner; imagine coming home from a long day at work to a dimly-lit bedroom with relaxing music on and told to get undressed so your partner can give you a massage… and then having that massage focus on your dick.  Hand jobs can also be hot as fuck when they’re illicit – say, under a blanket on a long-distance train, while driving, in the coat room at a party, or in a crowded bar (story forthcoming).

Hand jobs aren’t some lost relic of adolescence; they’re a big part of my sex life – especially in the context of a long-term relationship, they help me to establish connection and feel out (pardon the pun) the ways in which my partners prefer to be pleased.

“Handy Man,” by the way, is an amazing blues song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BmFtwwCOmmo

Things Are Looking Up

finally got the claim processed from when my camera got stolen in Spain, which means there’s a camera coming my way; until it arrives, you’re all stuck with these low-res phone shots.  Hope you don’t mind the quality of the picture, my darlings!

Sinful Sunday
P.S. I took this photo a few weeks ago… and then saw this photo posted by Holden and Camille and thought, “Oh, right – I have that one picture from the bathroom…”  Thanks for reminding me, guys! 😀

Lust Highway*

Asphalt, Environment, Grass, Highway

We’re making flirty banter as he’s driving down a highway; I watch one of his smooth hands guide the steering wheel as the other moves gracefully to the knob on his left to change gears.  Looking at his large hands, I suddenly want them all over me – but seeing as how he’s driving, I opt to put my hands on him.  There’s a moderate amount of traffic along the highway, including tall trucks wherein the drivers could see us from their cabs; I ignore this fact and reach my small, pale hand over to unbuckle his belt.

I’ve done this before, so he’s not surprised; rather, he leans his pelvis forward and grins at me.  I unbutton his jeans, pull the zipper down carefully, and pull his stiffening cock out from his pants.  He closes his eyes for a tenth of a second and sighs with barely-parted lips as I start grazing his cock with the tips of my fingers.  Once it gets a bit harder, I lean under his left arm and wrap my lips around his warm flesh, taking him into my mouth and running my tongue around his head.  I eagerly blow him as he struggles to concentrate; when I have to move so he can change gears, I look at him with pleading, lust-filled eyes and tell him how desperately I want him inside of me.

He turns right down the next road; we search for a place where we can pull over, but there is no place.  We’re right outside of a mid-sized town, so it’s all driveways and private field entrances.  We turn around and come back toward the main highway, my hand stroking his shaft.  He asks what I think about just pulling over on the side of the road to make out a bit; sounds good to me, I say.  But I want so much more than that.  I take my panties off under my skirt and grab a condom from the backseat; I ask him what he thinks about fucking me on the car juuuust a little bit.  Before anyone can pass us.  Just a few thrusts, I say.

Within two minutes I’m bent over the bonnet, my red sundress up over my hips, and he’s pushing into my swollen and waiting cunt, jeans mid-thigh – I’m slippery and he eases in, taking his time to tease me even though we don’t have it.  We (surprise!) don’t stop after a few thrusts; the taboo of fucking in public in broad daylight is so arousing that I tighten myself around him and beg him not to stop.  He puts one of his beautiful hands next to me on the car and holds my hip with the other, just like when he was driving – only now, he’s driving himself into me.  We can see cars and trucks flying by fifty meters down the road along the open highway, and I’m gasping with wanting him deeper.  More.  I wonder what the drivers would think if they could glance over and see us.  We don’t want to push our luck, though; after a few minutes he pulls out – neither of us completely satisfied, both of us feeling a temporary relief.

I let my skirt fall and he pulls his pants up and I turn around to kiss him as fully as I can; how often do you get a partner who’s down to fuck in the middle of the day on a car near a busy highway?  I smile and tell him he’s the best; he says I’m swell, and we kiss again, and the love I have for him fills me up.

 

*God I hope there’s a porn with this title.

 

 

Image from Pixabay; credit: Pexels 

 

Spice

I carried a bottle of hot sauce with me the whole six months I traveled; what can I say?  I’m a girl who loves everything spicy.

No sugar, just spice – and naughty, not nice.

Sinful Sunday