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Malicious Intent: A Wanton Wednesday tale

  • Posted on January 19, 2012 at 1:52 am

“I’ve had enough!” Laurie yelled as she white knuckled the steering wheel. It had been one of those days. One of many, too many, she thought. The grid lock of commuter traffic was creeping at a snail’s pace, a horn blared beside her and she looked up to see a finger being flipped at another driver who had nosed his way in. 

She lived ten miles from her job it shouldn’t take a fucking hour to get home each day. Yet it did, not only for her but all the other small people in the big corporate world dealt with it as well. She knew them by the make of their cars, their cell phone conversations and the music they like to share when they rolled down their windows. She didn’t like them, none of them. She hated being in the grid lock of life.

Laurie glanced at the speedometer to see how fast they were progressing. When she looked up a familiar sign caught her eye. The neon paint was weather worn but unmistakable and welcoming. Her car went on autopilot as it merged toward the exit ramp. Without conscious thought she smiled in the rear view mirror as she licked her lips. Her mouth watered so she swallowed hard and loud. “Yep, yep, Yep!” she exclaimed bouncing in the seat when the red light interrupted her escape. “It’s 5:00 Somewhere” Laurie’s voice sang with a twang of sudden joy.

As if she had anticipated the sudden decision she moved with methodical precision by parking on the far side next to the golf course. Then she pushed the button to pop the trunk of her silver Camry. The two inch conservative black pumps were replaced with six inch stilettos and she slipped her wallet inside the black clutch that held everything a woman might need for a quick transformation.

The smoke greeted her before the blinding sun could reveal her identity to the men in the bar. She knew they would be here. She knew they needed the transformation as much as she did. Her lips curled into a subtle smile while her hands tugged the knee length skirt into its proper place. The dark glazed door finally shunned her spot light and the first voice could be heard above the low rumble of music and conversation.

“Well well look what the cat drug in!” The bartender laughed as he slung the bar towel over his right shoulder. “The usual?” he asked then grabbed the glass as if he knew her answer. 

“Yes, Thank you Brad.” Laurie replied walking around the horse shoe shaped bar toward the ladies room on the opposite side. Her eyes fixed on her destination even though she was aware of those awaiting her attention.

A quick glance at her watch measured the three minutes she would use to build the anticipation. It was almost a science of socialization without the beakers or reports to follow. She rolled the top of her skirt until the length swayed across her thighs. The pale pink blush sweater was unbuttoned to reveal the hot pink lace hiding beneath it. Laurie allowed her finger tips to linger upon her soft flesh before drawing her breast to the crest of the lace. She snaked her nail over the exposed cleavage with pleasure. A gloss of burgundy lipstick followed by lining her eyes with dark black liner was her final step. Oh wait, she thought as she saw the spritzer of perfume nestled in the corner of her bag.

The margarita glass glistened with salt around the rim. Once again her mouth did a happy dance that had her licking her lips. Laurie slipped onto the tall bar stool with grace but her mind was full of malicious intent. She had no idea who or where he was but there was no doubt his eyes were drawn to her.  The liquid pooled against her tongue and she savored the flavor. The sweet and salty tang elicited a soft moan. It slid down her throat as she leaned back in her seat and lifted her hands to free the waist length brunette tresses from their daily bondage.

It was then that she felt him. His eyes trailed down her neck to her cleavage then back to her lips. She smiled with eye glittering mischief without looking in his direction. “You should order me another, this one won’t last long.” She stated into thin air. Laurie licked the salt from the rim before she took her next sip. The mirrored wall reflected the exchange of a nod to Brad from a man with raven black hair, the suit she expected with a loose tie dangling and the wedding band glistened as he tossed bills onto the bar.

The tinkle of ice indicating her empty glass; Brad began mixing her next one. Rather than turn to thank the man who had purchased it she turned her back to him to speak with the man on the other side of her. A passive conversation ensued which provided the opportunity her next malicious move required. Simple moves; touching his forearm, allowing her shoe to slip off so he would retrieve it and eventually the devious laugh that made everyone around her smile in response, yes she had captivated them.  

Her third drink was greeted with full cleavage exposure as she stood up, leaned over the bar and teased Brad about sticking his finger in it to make it extra sweet. As she slowly slipped back onto the bar stool she let her eyes caress her prey.  A powerful but brief glance confirmed her assumption. She crossed her legs dramatically as she smiled an invitation. Before he could respond his cell phone rang.

He answered it as he strode quickly toward the door. Laurie didn’t overlook the fact that he leaned toward her as he passed by.  The door prevented his sight inside but it didn’t stop her from watching him pace along the sidewalk making his excuse. She wondered just how confident he was, how daring, but it was the question of how much time he had purchased that made her wiggle her ass.  




Asking or Telling?

  • Posted on November 9, 2011 at 2:31 am

There is one sure fired guarantee when you are a mistress. You are going to want something. It may be a hug or sharing dinner together, the what isn’t the issue. The issue is just how the  hell are you gonna get it.  When you add the submissive stance in to the equation our thoughts change a little bit. We usually think is this a want or a need.  Although there is a significant difference both are important to the relationship and to each individual.

I have very few needs but my Dom is aware of them.  I try to be very careful when I use I the word need because it comes with a sense of urgency.  If it is an urgent need it usually appears when he is the most unavailable. I have learned that is just a part of us. But what happens when he is my need?  There are times I want to scream, “I need you!”  So in my single isolated moment of contemplation on just how I can attain my need I have to consider my words very carefully. He is responsive to my needs for the most part but if I err on the side of sounding demanding I will receive a stern reprimand.

My wants are an entire different ball park. I am one wanton little woman.  I want! by damn.  If I allow the wants to fester I become agitated and restless.  It is like that little want has a mind of it’s own with a determination to destroy me if I don’t succumb to it.  I want what I want when I want it. I find it very hard to keep my want contained.  There have been times I have blurted out, “Baby I want …” hoping that the tender intimacy will buffer my demand.  Then I have occasionally used, ” Sir I really want…” and depending upon the issue and his tolerance I may get what I want. However I have only made the error of saying, “I want …” once.

The response I received was immediate and left absolutely no room for discussion. “Are you telling me or asking me?” he stated.

Now for the most part I do attempt to embrace a reasonable amount of intellect. Yet at that  moment I was dumb founded.  My brain told my mouth to say, “… well I just want …” like it did’t really make any difference if I were telling or asking. The important thing was that attainment of whatever I felt was worth risking my ass for.  Thankfully my heart is wiser than my handicapped brain (at times) and I took a moment to observe his demeanor.  He was determined, steadfast and didn’t appear too concerned about what I wanted. I glanced at the ground to avoid his intent demand for an answer. Internally I was contemplating how to wiggle out of where I had landed because I had indeed just told him what I wanted and expected from him. I had topped from the bottom without  any grace or finesse. I had stepped outside of submission.

Thus what I have learned is there is an art to be learned in communicating our wants and our needs. There will be opportunities to bluntly express them but in the midst of power exchange it is wise to Always Ask. In order to properly inflict the importance of my need or want I have learned to first garner his attention.  It can be done in a multitude of ways but I will use my preferred choice as an example. I am a playful little pixie and it is his pleasure to see me flourish in such a light. Therefore I usually position myself close enough to touch him (yes touch does short circuit the male brain for a certain amount of time so you must work efficiently).  Depending on the need or desire I chose my address with care. If it is intimate such as time or romance, sensitive stuff gets a sensitive address. He likes it when I use my slow southern drawl and lean into him as I softly whisper, “Baby?” Now his attention is off the area I am touching and on me. I begin to remind him of ways we have enjoyed each other in the past that resulted similarly to what I now desire. Then I press closer to him and ASK, “Do you think we could possibly … because I really really want (or need) to feel that again.” Would you mind or Do you think you can make the time to? are also good choices.

Some may see it as being a bit manipulative, I don’t. I see it as laying my want or need at his feet in submission. He can and has told me no. He has told me I have to wait. He has told me he would love to but it isn’t possible, more than once.  The end result, when I ask, is always respecting his position as the dominant in our relationship.

I have begged, pleaded and even added tears at times when asking. I’m not certain if they affected the out come but they did make me feel better for putting more emphasis upon the urgency I was feeling. I mean those little buggers can really drive us insane we have to get them out of our system some how.  Like tonight, I am one wanton woman. I want to see him cum so bad I can literally smell and taste it. Yet here he is miles away, at work and the possibility is nigh on to impossible. I can let that little want eat a whole in my soul, make room for loneliness until I just have to throw myself a pity party. OR I can ask. I sent him a message detailing how much I thoroughly enjoy the privilege. I included a little tidbit about my eyes watering with need as I feel the pressure build and I want to beg it from him in release. So I asked, “Would you mind if I begged?” How do you feel when I whimper with need to coax the taste of you onto my tongue? (devious aren’t I?) I ended it with, Sir … would you, could you please maybe make some time for me soon? I really really want you.”

Oh there’s the phone … gotta go .. good night everyone :) ~ pixie

I want your ass tonight love.

  • Posted on June 29, 2011 at 1:27 am

Wanton Wednesday


mmm…I’m picturing the soft curve of your ass love…the taste of it as i nibble at the flesh and bite my way down the back of your thigh.  I want you to slowly circle your anus while you play with your clit…then I want you to slide your finger deep inside and cum and feel the pulse of your ass around the length of you finger and imagine what it would feel like pulsing against my cock…

I want your ass tonight love.


I’m starting to think he really really wants my ass :)

Happy Wanton Wednesday ~ Pixie


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The conclusion: Taking the task

  • Posted on June 23, 2011 at 2:07 am

Please scroll down and read part 1 first, otherwise this one may not make much sense. ~ pixie

The house was a buzz with everyone coming in for dinner. There was little peace and no quiet. I finished up the first part of this post then decided to gather the necessary equipment to complete it. I packed myself a light dinner, two chicken legs and a small container of carrots, celery, sliced tomato and cucumbers. I poured a mason jar full of sweet ice tea then wet a hand towel with cold water, sticking it into a zipper plastic bag and adding it to my lunch box.

I had contemplated the feasibility of completing the task while in the hay field. The challenges were the noise from the tractor, electric outlet for the hitachi and recording it. I have a laptop I use as a journal for the ranch. I grabbed a headset with a mic and my hitachi. I retrieved the ben wa balls from the secret hiding place then went to the bathroom to insert them.

I took my time to make sure I had them properly positioned, wiggling around and jumping up and down.  Last time I used them, one of the balls popped out and made me a little tender. I didn’t think that would be an issue today. My body seemed to be fully accepting and sucked them in deep. While in front of the mirror I brushed my hair and put some moisturizer on my face then tweaked my nipples just to feel the contraction against the balls. I made a mental checklist, I was pretty sure I had it all together except for how to plug in the hitachi from the center of the hay field. I have an outlet adapter I keep in my truck for charging my laptop and various video games. If all else failed I could complete the task in my truck, I thought.

I let everyone know I was headed back out to the field and that I would be back as soon as I was finished. I had made good progress and hoped to complete it tonight. The drive back to the field in the comfort of my own truck was pleasant. I squeezed my thighs together frequently with thoughts of the reaction He would have if He could feel it.

I will admit I was inpatient. I got to field about six thirty and I was anxious to complete the task. However, responsibilities come first. I progressed slowly up one long row and then down another. I watched the birds sweep in to gather their evening meal.  The sun was a beautiful sight as it slowly began its dissent. The tractor chugged along bouncing the seat I was perched upon. I spread my knees wide to let the vibrations wiggle the balls inside of me.

The air-conditioner was humming loudly as it struggled to beat off the heat. I felt my skin tingle with moisture. I smiled to myself knowing if anyone asked I would blame it on the heat. The inseams of my jeans had grown dark and I could smell my arousal.  I glanced down the long row of cut Alfalfa, my blue GMC glistening in the distance. If I choose now I would have to walk, carrying my pack in the sun and then return.  So I bit my lip and continued toward the end of the row.

I reached down to grab my jar of ice tea and bumped my head on the steering wheel. While rubbing the bump and blinking the stars from my eyes I discovered an outlet my car charger would fit into perfectly.With renewed vigor and insight I pressed the clutch and shifted into a higher gear. The dust flew as I nearly bolted toward the source of power for the hitachi.

I jumped out of the tractor and ran through the knee high piles of hay. I inhaled deeply, like a person imbibing an addiction, as I opened my truck door. I was greeted with the familiar scent of vanilla and the faint taint of an ocean breeze air freshner. I rubbed my finger inside of it, sniffed it with a warm knowing.  I lifted the center console to retrieve the car charger, found a piece of coffee flavored hard candy which I unwrapped and popped in my mouth, then sashayed like a prancing filly wearing a blue ribbon back to the tractor.

Now I could have remained right where I was, just inside the gate, but that just didn’t seem to be right. I wanted to be smack dab in the center of the field. I felt the flexion of my muscles as I put the tractor in gear. They grasp the balls like a woman squeezing a lemon for lemonade. I grimaced and gasped allowing myself to fully indulge the tumbling balls.

Finally, I reached my destination. I looked all around with a guilty grin. I was alone, no one for miles. I could scream, moan, shout with triumphant and I could bask in the after glow for as long as I desired.  Those thoughts alone were nearly orgasmic.  I opened my bag and removed the laptop from its protective sleeve, powered it up and found the recording program. All I needed to push was the record button and it was good to go. The charger buzzed when I plugged it in. I jumped out of the seat then laughed out loud when the hitachi came to life unexpectedly. I was still giggling at myself as I wiggled my jeans down my thighs. It was at that moment, hands braced against one door and naked ass perched up high, that I realized with the loud diesel motor chugging to keep the cool air flowing the recording would suck. So I flipped the key off as I bounced back onto the seat.

With the finesse of a cat I spread one bare foot on each side of the steering wheel, wiggling my toes against the window. I spoke softly into the microphone, greeting Mr. Wonderful with the joyous reception He is accustomed to. I described how the balls had tumbled my labia into a moist meal I was certain He would love to indulge. I tugged on the strings and squealed in delight. They had a way of working my g-spot like someone who had been there a time or two. I teased him with whispered promises as I stroked the hitachi over the swollen nub. A hiss of pleasure followed by mumbled words between jagged breaths lead me to apologize for being so quick. One ball popped out and I told him how tight it was to push it back inside. I hesitated, allowing him time to consider the feeling. I slowly rubbed my wetness against the pulsing head. As it neared my tender spot I whispered a memory we alone share. My hips left the seat and the cool air drew my moist body heat. I rocked until the moans of pleasure became a scream of delight. The waves grew as a fine film of sweat began to cover my entire body. I pressed harder and tugged on the string until the audible buzz against the balls became louder than my voice. I groaned as rode it like a bucking bronch, my head tossed back and skin prickling with moist release. I gasped as I realized this was more than an ordinary orgasm. “I’m cumming!” I repeated as the squirt fled my body pushing the balls between my thighs. The puddle forming under my naked ass as I struggled to catch my breath. The euphoria lead to the giggle of triumphant. I wallowed in that place of perfection until my longing for him stirred me to speak of love to be shared and passion only he can ignite.

I turned off the hitachi, let my mind and body sizzle as I concluded the recording with the I love you I hadn’t whispered in weeks. I used the wet towel to wipe the sweat from my face. Only then realizing how the temperature had grown quickly inside the cab of the tractor. I cleaned my tender bits with a soft gentle touch lingering in the knowledge that he would consider it a waste. Just as I had replace my jeans and put everything back to right my cell phone rang.  My friend’s voice on the other end questioning why I was so out of breath. I laughed as I answered, “It’s Wanton Wednesday and its hotter than hell out here. I can hardly breath.” She laughed in return, with a touch of sarcasm only a knowing friend can share as she replied, “Yeah, I bet it is. I bet it is.”

Now that is how I take the task. Thanks for letting me share it with you.     ~ pixie


An older picture, but the same field.

Taking the Task

  • Posted on June 22, 2011 at 6:31 pm

I thought I would use this weeks Wanton Wednesday to share the beyond the task thinking that occurs when I receive a task.

I was up rather late, writing last night. An email alert popped up in the lower left hand corner of the screen. My palms damped immediately as they do when he reaches for them. I realized I was holding my breath when I felt the need to gasp and was unable to do so, for I had no room. The task read … This evening I want you to insert your ben wa balls and spend some time with your hitachi…I want you to record it…

I allowed my thoughts to drift back to the original ben wa ball experience. I recalled the feeling of fullness, the pressure on the under side of my clit and the tingle that accompanied each step I took. Those thoughts were quickly replaced by the memory of crimson cheeks brought on by the hidden indiscretion. I tried to recall the conversations that surrounded me but only the distracted void of anticipated pleasure surfaced. I enjoyed the experience.  It fulfilled my need for naughtiness and shock value of owning a room when I shared the power my owner possessed.

The mental turmoil of when and how such a task is to be completed is a tantalizing thrill for me. I entertained the passing thought of taking the task immediately. It was officially Wednesday after all. I was freshly showered, dressed for bed and the house was comfortably quiet. I read the task once more…  ”This evening…” not this morning, not tonight … it read this evening.  ”Damn!” I exclaimed. I felt my bottom lip assume the cute little pout of disappointment then I logged into my work email to distract myself. It worked until exhaustion softly whispered in my ear and I surrendered for the night.

Vague flashes, accompanied by the possessing sound of his voice coaxing me to release the passion from my depths troubled my dreams.  I awoke several times to flip my pillow, sniff his shirt and tuck the sheet between my thighs to quieten the ravage screams of my body. “Not now,” I told myself, “He said this evening.”

Wednesday’s demand my attention as I hold several people in accountability for their goals and accomplishments. As soon as my feet hit the floor I was on the phone with my office, cooking breakfast and assembling several people to give me their weekly reports. I tilted my head, securing the phone as I stirred the scrambled eggs. The buzz of the blender stole my attention with its resemblance to the sound of my hitachi wand. I scraped the cooked eggs along the bottom of the skillet. The teflon against teflon gliding smoothly through the mixture drew my imagination to a vision of the juice wrapping around the ben wa balls. Someone spoke my name and I leaped from my thoughts, embarrassed but warm with the wanton need that had grown as breakfast was prepared.  The voices at the breakfast table fell upon deaf ears. I saw the movements surrounding me yet my only comprehension was of the crying need tucked inside my jeans.

It is harvest time on the ranch so after daily chores were assigned I left the house to climb aboard my John Deere tractor. I had two fields of Alfalfa left to bale and a lot on my mind.  There are jokes and songs written about the relationships with and on a tractor. Other than the occasional tease to usurp those who don’t believe a woman can or should run a tractor I’ve never gave them much credence. However today, bouncing along with the heat pulling the cool air to the window and wishful country music on the radio I was keenly aware of all that could be accomplished within the small enclosed cab. My aroma quickly overwhelmed the scent of diesel burning. I wondered how it would feel to wear the ben wa balls while baling hay. I wondered if we will ever get the opportunity for him to drive the tractor and if I can sit upon his lap while he does so.

It was late afternoon when I decided to take a break from the heat. I was sweat soaked from reloading the twine in the baler, the air-conditioning made the protruding assets poke through my tank top and shivers tickle along my spine.  I was desperate for a reprieve from my mental torment. I called the house to have someone come pick me up. I bolted through the house to the warmth of a quick shower. I occupied my mind with dinner and evening plans. I tossed around the idea of resuming my field work … this evening. “Hmmm,” I thought,” I  just wonder if …”

My home is a constant circus of activity. Although it runs on a finely tuned schedule one must leave room for extras and exceptions. I had considered a nap as a wise course of action to avoid the soaring heat of the days excessive temperatures. Ah, but my office called needing confirmation of an upcoming situation and a need of something from town had me scrambling into a fresh pair of shorts and a t shirt. I had pulled into the parking lot before I realized I had slipped on His t-shirt. I lifted the tail to my nose, inhaling the scent of his manly musk deeply. The quiver ignited a hunger I knew better than to entertain. I tied the excess length into a cute bow under my breasts then bounded inside the store to get the needed supplies. My naked abdomen was caressed by the swirling hot and cold of the sliding glass doors while I was standing in the check out line.  A basket, full of I love Boobies bracelets and little round super bouncing balls sitting on the counter, caught my attention. I may have sighed a little moan, I’m not certain, but the glimmer in the eye of the young guy bagging my purchases said I was guilty of something.

The ride home was slow, thoughtful and sultry. It seemed the air-conditioner just couldn’t keep up with my fluctuating body temperature. “She Thinks My Tractors Sexy” came on the radio and I laughed at myself. Yes, I had contemplated enough. Evening was on the way and I was more than ready to take on the task.

to be continued … I, ah have somethings to plow .. err bale I mean…

~ pixie

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Wanton Wednesday June 8th: Waddle while you work

  • Posted on June 9, 2011 at 9:09 am

Wanton Wednesday


I want you to wear your plug today, for as long as you can…you may not cum until the evening.

The surprising element to our Wanton Wednesday’s is that He posted them to be sent to me at a pre-determined date. Therefore when He wrote it, he had no idea what my plans may be for that day.  However, being the good little submissive that I am attempting to be, I do my best to accomplish the task as He has assigned it.

I awoke with the knowledge that today was going to be a busy day. We, here at the ranch have anxiously awaited this day for about six months. Today was moving day for one of the girls I mentor. I had remodeled my office building into an apartment for her and her son.

So with morning coffee in hand I logged into my email and shrieked, “OMG, You’ve got to be kidding me!”  It wasn’t a joke and a I read the instruction once again to make sure I was hallucinating, I could hear his voice in my head, “Nothing funny about it love. Your ass is mine to do with as I please, when I please.“  I finished my coffee then gathered my supplies.

The plug was still in it’s package. I was suddenly very thankful I had purchase it. It is a small plug 3 1/2 inches. I have a 5 inch plug which requires about 30 minutes of foreplay and there is no way I could ever walk with it inserted. So after my shower I felt lusciously silky smooth and kinda sexy. I opened the packaging and cleansed the plug with toy cleaner. I smiled as I squirted the Navy lube all over it. I placed my foot onto the dressing table chair, leaned forward and wiggled the tip around my pucked little hole until it responded. My other hand wandered mindlessly to my clit, stroking it gently like petting a kitten. My anus opened after a few minutes of teasing and dreamily thinking of his lips tracing the path of the plug.

The burning as I pushed it past my sphincter wasn’t as intense as it had been with the larger plug and I found myself rocking my hips, teasing the plug as it popped into its final resting place. The muscle clinched tight around the base and I tested the security by tugging lightly on it. I squealed at the sensation, it was a pleasant intrusion. I smiled as I wondered just what Mr. Wonderful’s reaction would be if he were watching.

My cell phone rang, disturbing my wanton thoughts. It was time to start the day. I slipped on a pair of snug fitting jeans over grey cotton bikini panties. I slipped on the matching grey cotton bra. Nothing sexy today. “Sorry” I smirked in the mirror as I tugged a faded grey tank top over my head. “I have work to do.”

The first step outside the bathroom was slow and careful. I felt as if it may slip out, not that it could go too far in my tight jeans. I reached back and patted my firm butt and thrust forward in surprise at how my body flexed tight on the plug.

I switched out the laundry, toted a basket to the folding table and grimaced each time I bent to retrieve a towel. Then it was breakfast of ham, eggs and toast. Thankfully I didn’t have to squeeze orange juice this morning. The mere thought had me quivering. I had several household chores that had to be done because I knew I had company stopping later today. I dusted, vacuumed and damped moped the floors all the while being acutely aware that my ass was occupied. My final chore of the dishwasher seemed to be the most challenging. Perhaps it was my clit stroking in the bathroom or it could have been the snugness of the seam of my jeans pressing against it as I bent over again and again putting the dishes away. Surely, my ass isn’t that arousing, I thought.

My cell phone vibrated and rang in my pocket and my pussy squealed with delight. I scolded it properly before I answered the phone, telling it, “You have to wait until tonight.”

The afternoon was spent making trips from the bunk house to the new apartment. I did my best to manage the movers rather than make the trips myself. I could feel the burning and raw tugging each time I bent my knees to lift a box. The sensations was almost paramount when I was disassembling the baby bed. A final trip to the apartment to insure everything was properly placed. The importance of the day being a surprise for the new mom and a special dinner with all her new friends in the community.

I decided to return to walk the 1/4 mile back to my house in a leisurely stroll, enjoying the heat of the afternoon. A glass of tea and laptop in hand I decided to curl up on the sofa until time to get ready for dinner. Wrong, curling and a butt plug don’t mix well. The pressure felt as if I were being skewered. I wiggled around into what I thought could possibly be a comfy spot. Exchanged an instant message with my friend, snowpet, who shared a humorous story of wearing a plug to work. I soon decided my ass had had enough, it was raw and pulsating. I excused myself from the computer and went to alleviate my aching ass.

In all I wore it for 7 hours. Not bad for a virgin ass, if I do say so myself. Later that night as I lay in bed I let my finger traced the swollen tender rim. I smoothed some ky jelly around and slip the tip of finger inside. Oh so sensitive, but a pleasurable sensation. I stroked my inpatient little clit until the moisture dripped onto the finger playing with my ass. Then I closed my eyes as I whispered, “if it pleases you Sir” and rocked my hips between the double penetration to a nice juicy release.

Wanton Wednesday June 1st

  • Posted on June 9, 2011 at 9:07 am

Wanton Wednesday


I love you baby, I stole this one from something you told me once…i think it may have been molly and Signs..


Go to the hardware store, select something from the store, then use it in the parking lot to make yourself cum


Wanton Wednesday: fantasy inspiration

  • Posted on May 25, 2011 at 3:27 pm

Wanton Wednesday

25 May

Tonight I want you to fantasize about a woman love, you do not need to record but you must cum and you must write what you thought about. I may be in your fantasy love but you may not have my cock.

[An edit to help you on your way]

The room is lit by the reflected light of a small fire peaking through the half open door.  Shadows dart to the bed in long undulating stretches of flickering darkness while dancing waves of soft red light paint the room in an erotic glaze.  Hardwood floors soak up the dimness and span the small space before clashing against colorless walls.  In the center is a large bed, bare sans white sheets and the four posts which adorn its corners.  The wavering light falls short, leaving in its wake a light orange hue to lessen the crisp whiteness of the draping sheets. Three forms, nearly naked, sit in oddly awkward contrast; the sensual mood cast by the unseen flames broken by their unexplained presence.

One of these forms is me.   I sit at the edge of the bed bare at the chest with soft legged pants tugging slightly at my hips. My toes taste the cool texture of the wood grain while my eyes smolder at the sight of what sits beside me.  The muscles in my chest swell with each slow breath and my body tenses at the thought of what is to come.  My left thigh rests still yet quivering a breath from your own.

I watch you.  Soft pale curves form a tantalizing silhouette, drawing my soul towards yours and my body achingly forward yet I do not succumb to the distance.  Blood flows to my hips and my cock lifts to the site of you, stretching toward the warm dampness between your thighs.  A million years of evolution and the will of God dictate my response as the thickening between my legs begins to throb in tune to my pulse.

Your ass cheeks, pale and round, settle quietly against the sheet with your knees slightly bent and  back arched.  There is a hint of fear in your eyes, and a quiver of lust on your lips.  Liquid blue and penetrating, your gaze does not follow its normal path from my pecks to my abdomen but instead locks steady onto mine, drawing strength from my presence and letting your body respond to my desire.  Your nipples are hard nubs pushing away an oversized shirt.  I trace your thighs in my mind, imagining the texture of them as I would slide a hand over the top to the base of your hip.

But it is not my hand that touches you softly on the upper arm.  Her motion startles you and you close your eyes at the feel of strange flesh along your skin.  She sits next to you, opposite me and your eyes reopen to mine as I take in her features.  Taller than you, skin naturally tan and shining under the warm fire’s light, she sits near you, near enough you can feel the heat of her along your bare legs.  Hair brown and slightly curled falls past her shoulders to the middle of her back framing brown eyes nearly twinkling with unhidden mischief.   Her fingers are delicate and mesmerizing as they slide slowly down your arm.

I can smell the scent of lavender in the air and a hint of vanilla, an unfair mixture that makes my mouth water and my cock push hard against the bounds of my pants.  My fingers brush against your cheek, my thumb across your lips, I feel your breath catch and I study your face.  Your consent is evident in the silky depths of your eyes still unwaveringly focused on me.

You feel her hand finish its slide down your arm then across the back of your hand.  It tingles; a soft caress and you are forced to notice that it is a woman’s touch by the gentle feel of small hands and knowing fingers.  Her breasts press lightly, perhaps accidently, against your shoulder as you feel her watching the progress of her hand along your skin.  You shiver when it finds your hip.

I slide closer so you can feel the length of me pressed against you, my hand on the small of your back.  Her face is very close to your neck and you can feel her hair against your arm and the slightly giving texture of her breasts pressed against you.  You feel first her breath at the base of your neck, a hot moist presence, then you feel the first touch of her lips as she drags them slowly up to your jaw.  Her tongue darts as she nibbles lightly on the soft flesh below your ear and you feel her hand now firmly on your thigh.  I watch in obvious rapture the effect of her touch upon your skin and the feel of your gaze upon my desire.

My hand finds your other hip and slides under your shirt, pulling it away from the panties which are soon to be your only protection.  You can feel the rough texture of my hands, large and firm against the flat of your tummy.  Their contrast to hers is almost too much to comprehend.  I slide my hands up, lifting your shirt and feeling your ribs and then the soft flesh of your breasts.  They cup perfectly in my hands and the nipples pass easily between my fingers.  I pinch softly, teasingly and then lift your shirt above your head.  Your body is bared to us with only the thin protection of pink silk which hides the moistening flesh between your thighs.

I set my hand against your chest lean forward to take your lips against mine.  I feel them part hungrily as I lower you to the bed.  We look at you and then at each other and an understanding of your beauty passes between us.  She is on her knees at your side and she leans forward and I kiss her lightly on the lips and lift her shirt from her body.  She is slender and firm and responds to my touch as my hands slide up the length of her.  I could feel your eyes on us and wondered at your thoughts as I look upon her noting the texture of her and the flavor of her curves.

She puts her hand on my chest, smiles with just that hint of mischief, and pushes me firmly away.   When her attention turns back to you your gaze breaks from mine for the first time since we entered the room.  You can feel my eyes drinking the sight of you as you look upon her, as you lift a hand to her arm and pull her gently down beside you.  The sight of her thigh sliding over yours as she settles to your side sends a wave of longing and a ting of satisfaction down my spine.  Your legs spread to hers and when her face comes close you feel your lips part of their own will.  You have a moment to wonder at the feel of her lips, at the reaction I will have to seeing your tongue dart against hers.  She draws closer, her lips wet and inviting but stopping just shy of your own.  She is waiting for you to close the distance, you can feel my desire, you feel her desire, you wonder at your own desire until finally you close the distance.

Her lips are soft and wet against your own, her kiss foreign, unexplored, and different.  When you feel her lips part against yours you follow suite waiting to taste her, wondering at the texture of a woman’s tongue.  It is tentative and lightly probing at first but soon you can feel the passion grow as your tongue slides against hers.  You are very aware of her breasts pressing against your own and her thigh pressed against your panties…placing the slightest pressure against your clit and the lips of your pussy.  You feel her along her back to the curve of her ass sliding your hand under the band of her panties and feeling the firm round flesh.   You do not forget me, pressed lightly against your side, but your focus had shifted to her and you can feel the effect it had on me.

You feel her hand slide down your stomach between her own tummy and yours as it seeks out the soft flesh hidden beneath the pink silk.  She rolls slightly away before her hands find their mark and the absence of her against you sends a cold shiver of longing down the length of you.  She pulls away from the kiss and I can see the flush tint of your cheeks and know the awakening it represents.  When I reach down to pull away your panties I smile as you arch your butt into the air allowing me to slide them down your legs…slowly.

Again she pushes me to my place at your side with a firm hand and lustful smile before turning back to you.  Her first kiss falls at your bare shoulder, you feel soft lips then a wet tongue and then the slide of her teeth against your flesh and you shiver.  Her kisses meander around the base of your neck to the center of your chest and you feel her crawl fully onto of you.  The weight of her is light and the flesh soft and sliding against you.  Each kiss sends a wet tingle racing towards your pussy.  When she finds the soft flesh of your breast and pulls hard at a nipple with her teeth you let out the most satisfying of noises.

She does not linger long but instead slides down until you feel a hard nipple slide along your clit and a wet tongue lick along the top of your tummy.  Her breast against the lips of your pussy feels strange, and soft, and good and you feel yourself wet and yearning for the touch of her tongue on your pussy.  She finds it quite readily, and teases just once, a long slow lick from the bottom of your pussy to the clit.  Then she pulls your clit softly into her mouth, and with slow yet steady building pressure begins to lick and suck at the rapidly engorging flesh.

You can feel her hair draped over your thighs and you watch as her soft lips made a tight seal around you.  You can feel me watching, my hand resting against the flat of your stomach, my cock a hard bulge in my pants.  I think how nice it would be to slide my cock into your mouth while she licks your pussy but I know that could wait and I was in anything but a rush.  I want her to make you cum, I want to watch your face and feel your stomach tighten.

I need you to want to cum against her lips.

I want you to feel the passion it stirs in me to see her tongue along your flesh and your body’s response to it…

Cum for me Love, I want to taste your cum on her lips…



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Wanton Wednesday:playing with balls

  • Posted on May 19, 2011 at 3:40 pm


Ben wa balls were the weapon of choice for this Wanton Wednesday adventure.  I didn’t know what exactly they were so I googled before I left for my shopping trip. I found that placement is important and to keep trying until the proper placement is attained for maximum results.

The purchase was made without much excitement, perhaps because the store was empty. I knew where they were located and made my choice between the three options they had in stock. The big challenge was where to go to insert them. The best choice or so I thought was a pub I was familiar with that was not too far from the adult toy store.

Fast forward … I slipped the first ball into my mouth to lube it, then inserted it. The second ball, well I had to push and then the first one popped out. I had one of those ‘What the HELL?” moments. I kicked off my leopard print stiletto and slipped off one leg of my blue jeans, perched a foot on toilet lid and shoved them balls in as far as possible. I felt them slip before I had my jeans back on. Perhaps I should have worn non wiggle required jeans on ben wa ball day.

When I came out of the bathroom I stepped tentatively as I wasn’t certain what to expect. Well my attention was quickly drawn from my balls to the people in the pub who I hadn’t seen in a very long time. A drink and some food were purchased. They have the best fried pickles there. Eventually, my skills on the pool table were challenged and it seemed my balls were about to encounter some other balls, billiards or pool balls as we say around here.

Stepping from the bar to the pool table was my first, OMG! To which a raised eyebrow by my opponent had me giggling. This should be fun I thought. Now my opponent is a pool hustler, I’ve watched him many times and am very aware of his game. I have also beaten him many times. So he starts talking smack as he wracks the balls for the first game. I am wiggling my pants down as far as possible without exposing too much black lace and flexing every inch of my neither flesh trying to figure out how to ‘control’ the ben wa balls. A remark was made about my utilizing distracting movements as a means to win the game. I was thinking the only distraction I’m concerned with is my own. The balls had nestled on the underside of my clit and performed a melodious inner chord in tune with each shot I made. I was controlling the balls on the table, but the balls inside my pussy seemed to be outside of my control.

I shortly decided I needed some fresh air. The long strides I took toward the door were not in my best interest, before the table could be wracked for game three I was running to the bathroom, yanking my jeans down to my knees before I creamed them. Yes, I had a very uncontrolled lip biting orgasm. I cleaned myself up, smacked my clit and told it with much authority to, “Behave!” I then returned to the small group gathered around to renew acquaintances, make new ones and watch the live entertainment of my ass swaggering pool shots.

There were a few humorous bets placed on the games ranging from a drink to a kiss. One of my opponents, whom I didn’t previously know, introduced him self with a hand shake, “Hi I’m Dick” he said. I shook his hand and said it was nice to meet him. He held my hand firmly and said, “Am I the first Dick you’ve held today.” My body flinch and I bit my lip to hold the whimper in as I replied, “No Comment, rank and serial number to follow.” I laughed and reached to accept a drink which I had won from a former opponent. Dick leaned close and said, “Can we make it the last Dick you hold tonight?” I rolled my eyes at him and turned away. I wasn’t the least bit attracted or amused by him but I be damned if my out of control pussy didn’t make a squishy sound as I stepped to the table. At this point sitting was not an option for me. I knew one of two things would occur: 1. A visible wet spot on my crotch 2. I would feel the pressure and rock myself off right in front of everyone.

I am not allowed to drink and drive so as I held my second margarita in my hand I went to ask the bartender to serve me lemon water, no matter what was ordered for me as I had over an hour drive home. I told her to keep the money as a tip so she was more than willing to comply with contributing to my sobriety. As I turned, too quickly most likely, to return to the table I felt the balls slip. “OH Holy Hell!” I exclaimed and rushed to the bathroom. I kicked off my shoe, kicked one leg of my jeans off and tugged the cord until my juice ran down my leg. I could not withhold the hard need to orgasm; I was officially out of control. Again I cleaned myself up but this time I looked sternly in the mirror and chastised myself for the lack of control.

My pool playing buddies were well into their beers by now. I so wanted a beer. Beer is my friend; I like the taste of it and feel of it quenching my taste buds. I think I discovered that wanton feelings feed a lust for other things. I was craving a beer. However, my determination to be a ‘good girl’ succeeded. I resisted temptation and further gathered my nerve as I twitched my hips and strutted myself to the pool table to make my break. Mr. Pool Hustler tosses out a challenge as I bent over the table, “Hey lets bet your ass or a round for the house on this one” I about choked and hadn’t swallowed anything, my face grew red and my chest was heaving as my nipples grew taught. Then through the smoke filled haze I lifted my eyes to meet his challenge. You little weasel, you aren’t going to beat me, I determined. I measured each shot with precision. I leaned down and stretched across the table, I lifted one leg up in the air because I was just too short to make the shot otherwise. My next shot required I perch my ass cheek on the corner of the table in order to make the proper angle. The men watched every move I made. My body was keenly aware of them undressing me with their eyes. I was down to three balls and the eight when I missed my shot. I stood up to step away from the table and my body quivered.

“OH, oh no no no” I thought, flexing my pelvic muscles. I was determined to hold on as tight and long as necessary. I wasn’t watching the table, I may have even had my eyes closed, but Mr. Hustler missed a shot and scratched. He taunted me about getting my balls out of his way as I bent my knees to retrieve the cue ball. I shuttered. I tried to hide my face behind the table. The ben wa balls felt like they were side by side pinching my clit into agonizing submission then kicking the hell out of my g-spot with each breath I took. I knew there was no way I was making it to the bathroom this time.

I had this horrible thought of it appearing like I pissed my pants, so I stood up, placed both palms on the green felt of the pool table and felt the waves of ecstasy wash from my trembling lips, past my core to exit my dripping wet quivering pussy lips, leaving a nice wet spot between my thighs. My eyes were closed, I was riding this wave. I didn’t rock my hips or grind against the table, OH but I could have. When I finally opened my eyes it was to take in the wide eyed astonished look of six wanton males. Mr. Hustler broke the silence by stuttering, “Did you just, ah …?” All I could do was nod my head. I wasn’t embarrassed; I was totally ben wa ball overwhelmed. I raised my pool stick to make a shot and told them my entire Wanton Wednesday task. Yes, ben wa balls and everything.

While Mr. Hustler paid his $130 round for the house bill; I was told what a wicked, wicked woman I was. The men were totally stupefied that I would tease and torment in such a way. So I further blew their minds by explaining the rules, to which no reason was requested. It seemed my pool playing friends understood, just as Mr. Wonderful does, just how dangerous I can be when left unattended around balls.


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May the rest of your week be Wickedly Wanton too ~ pixie



Wanton shopping…

  • Posted on May 18, 2011 at 1:09 am

I was about to go to bed. I worked a late shift and decided to check my email before tucking my tired ass in for the night. To my surprise… have I mentioned how much I love surprises? I get all bouncy and giggly, yes surprises are yummy goodness. Any how… here is my surprise…

Wanton Wednesday

18 May

During your break you must go to the adult store and select a toy which may be worn during the day. Ben Wa balls or a small plug. Wear it home…

Cum for me tonight

Looks like I get to go shopping today. You’ll just have to come back to see what wanton wearable goodness I discover. I love Wanton Wednesday!