Now, let's be perfectly honest, if you're on your honeymoon and she's all nice and cuddly, well, that's making love. At my age it leans more towards a good, satisfying fuck.
So, I want to talk about that "good, satisfying fuck."
Have you ever walked around the periphery of a party and spotted a man you would like to meet? He makes eye contact with you and you shiver. As you walk towards him your eyes never part. He takes your hand, "Mike," he says. Your cunt starts to drip and your nipples get hard as rocks as you say, "Carla."
Honey, you don't have to say anything else. He knows, you know, anybody within smelling distance knows that you are taking him home that night and you are going to fuck, real, heavy, hard animal fucking. You both are going to cum within moments of his being inside you.
Or, you're having dinner with the girls and have been making eye contact with a man across the room. On your way out, you drop your card next to him. As you both lean down, you simply say, "Call me." He and you both know that when he calls to make a dinner date, you're going to bang him when you open the door. It's that hard nipple arousal that makes you want to suck his cock in the restaurant.
It's called animal fucking. There's nothing soft and making love about it. It's two gorillas hammering on each other. Truthfully, we all should have more of that kind of sex.
A few years ago I met that Mike at a party. After the handclasp, one drink and a reasonable five minutes he told me, "Let's get out of here." As we stood at valet parking for our cars he slid his hands over mine and asked, "Your place or mine?" "Whichever is closer," I replied. He followed me back to my house which was only a couple of miles away. He parked in the driveway and followed me in.
The second the door closed we were kissing deeply. Our tongues were wild against each other. One of my arms was around his neck the other was on his cock. He was holding me tightly against his chest. I bit his ear lobe and ran my tongue into his ear. "Get your fucking clothes off," I yelled at him as I started stripping. We got naked and looked at each other. His cock was iron hard and standing straight up. He was fully shaved, balls and all. I was breathing hard and my breasts were heaving. I knew we were both going to cum instantly.
I grabbed his cock and pulled him down on me, "Just fuck me," I screamed. As predicted we both came on about the third stroke. We collapsed and I held him tight for a few minutes until I said, "Follow me into the bedroom."
We got under the covers and pulled each other tight.
"Here's the deal, Mike. Anything goes, any hole, as much as you want, just be hard as you are. I'm now going to give you the blow-job of your life time. Lay back and enjoy." I kept him on the edge of glory for ten minutes then let him gush into my mouth. I leaned back so he could see me swallowing, then pulled forward and kissed him letting some of his cum coat his tongue. Now that got him hard again. We waited a few minutes for Mike to get his energy back. When he was ready he slid his cock into my cunt and started fucking. I screamed at him and yelled for more and came twice before he blasted off.
Now, that, my friends, that is FUCKING!!
Friday, November 20, 2009
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Chapter 2 of my Autobiography
My job was progressing to the point that I started to look for more opportunities. Other doctors had asked if I could handle their medical billing on a part time basis. That led me to realize that with little expenditure I could start a medical billing service. I talked to my bosses and we agreed that I would continue handling their office on a two day a week basis and could take on other clients. I got an office and hired a few girls to do the data and typing work. An attorney pointed out that if I hired the handicapped I could run the business almost tax free. From that day I always hired handicapped people.
Business was great so I started branching out and opened an office in the San Fernando Valley. A year later I bought a house in the Hollywood hills and moved. The house had a pool and deck overlooking the Los Angeles basin. It was completely shielded from the neighbors. When I remodeled I did so with a few extras that appealed to my sense of sex is fun.
I started dating in the Los Angeles area and through one friend and another I began going to parties in the movie and television industry. Though I stayed above the fray, I managed to screw around as much as I wanted.
I absolutely refused to have any guilt about sex. Truthfully I was fucking up a storm. Hell, everybody I knew was either bar hopping or having quicky affairs. Picking up guys or, as they thought, letting them pick you up was socially acceptable. I dated a lot of movie and TV people. I learned one thing about myself – I loved to have sex. Oh, shit, let’s be honest here: I didn’t “make love” or “have sex,” I FUCKED! It was as simple as that. If I liked a man, if I was turned on by him, if he wasn’t gay, we fucked, period! And did I fuck some champions. Movie stars, writers, directors, I went everywhere. I was fun, I was attractive, I had a great body and I was great in bed. I also had absolutely no guilt or demands. Didn’t call me again, hey, that’s his problem, not mine. I learned early on that if you make demands, you do not get called back. So I lived life for my own enjoyment.
I also was moving in a crowd that was, to use the obvious word, quite “fast.” This taught me a few important lessons. The first, and most obvious, was “Keep your mouth shut.” It’s amazing how quickly people learn that you gossip or tell tales and how quickly they stop calling. The second was “Absolutely no married men.” This is death on wheels. The third was that “If you take pictures of yourself fucking keep them in your safe, no one elses.” The fourth was to “Know a good doctor.” In those days everything could be cured by a shot in the ass. Because of that I started keeping a diary. That way I could recall who had the clap and who I might have to call. As I couldn’t have children, that was never a worry. It’s from those diaries that I’m going to write in this blog. Sorry, but I’ll never mention a name.
The final thing I learned was so much easier in those days before the instant communication of the internet.. “Keep your sex life as private as you can.” Remember that I was working for doctors. I don’t think they would continue to hire me if they knew I would fuck anybody. One thing that women who are liberal in their sex partners know is that many of their friends will not approve, for whatever reason. Early on I started becoming friends with a very small circle of women like me, women who, shall we say, were into fancy fucking. I call them my sex friends and if I need a fix-up for a man from out of town I’ll call one of them. Besides, I truly don’t think the ladies in my professional associations would really fit in. Some might want to, but ...
Over the years I discovered that I loved to gamble. I started going to Las Vegas, Reno or Lake Tahoe about once a month. I hit a super slot machine jackpot in Vegas some years ago (I came in my pants when I saw the four reels line up). It pays for my fun and games as I’m a very conservative investor!
I also started dressing sexier and sexier, but never for work, of course. At work I was all business. As my sex life and sexual ability was becoming more proficient, I found that I needed and wanted more. Up until this time I had not even thought of having more than one man at a time.
That changed while I was in Hawaii on vacation.
I was on the beach protecting myself from burning to a crisp which redheads do even when its cloudy. Underneath a large towel I had on a very sheer, one piece white bathing suit which left little or nothing to the imagination, my nipples were clearly visible through the fabric. I had started shaving my pussy so that was never a problem in showing through. After a while two guys came over. They were quite nice looking and in their late thirties. We started chatting. They asked me for lunch and I said great. When I stood up and uncovered to pick up my bag, towel and books, they whistled.
We had lunch and palled around the rest of the day. Sex was never mentioned except for the funny innuendos that usually come up. Later in the afternoon they asked if I would join them for dinner. Arrangements were made to meet in the lobby at eight. I napped and showered. I had thought about fucking the older one, but it was really just a passing thought. It never occurred to me that this evening would add a whole new dimension to my sex life. I dressed in a green, low cut dress with great cleavage and met them in the lobby.
We had dinner, went to a show and ended up in the hotel bar. They suggested we finish off the evening with the bottle of champagne that they had in their suite. Truthfully, by now I had a buzz on and was very horny so we went to their suite.
The bottle of champagne was opened and we sat around gazing out the terrace door at the ocean. After awhile we started talking about sex. They made it clear that they wanted to go to bed with me. I thought that would be fun. They got undressed and asked me to choose who was first. There were these two fabulous cocks staring me in the face. I started undressing leering at their cocks and getting more aroused by the minute. After I undressed I stood in front of them and let them fondle my breasts. I sat them on the couch and leaned over in between them so they could each suck my nipples and play between my legs. I kneeled between them and starting sucking their cocks, switching back and forth. They both came in my mouth and I came too.
Finally we went into the bedroom. I laid on the bed and, after they had sucked my nipples some more, one got on top of me. In mid fuck I started sucking the other one.
Discovery time! I loved it!!!! I got on my knees so one could fuck me doggie style and I sucked the other one off under me. Then we rested and they reversed positions. I came and came and CAME! I had never had such powerful orgasms.
For the rest of my vacation I fucked the two of them continuously. Mornings I would get up and suck each of them off. Then we would shower and they would fuck me in relays. In the afternoon I would double fuck and suck them. At night they would eat me until I started shrieking. Finally I took one in my cunt and one in my ass and went into sexual nuttyness. I am a screamer and one hell of a noisy fuck! Jesus, did I love it. Just getting double fucked by these two guys was shear heaven and could they keep it up.
I discovered that having two men was fabulous. Anyway, that's how I started swinging. Since then I have group fucked and gang banged whenever I want to. It is always my decision and my decision only. I love group sex and will take on the field. OK, so I am a bit wild, but I love my life style, just as I love sex and everything that goes with it. I have always kept my sex life completely separate from my serious life. The ladies in my professional association or in the charities I work on NEVER would dream about what my other life is like. Though I am sure a few of them would love to find out AND participate.
Do I think I'm a slut, well, probably, in the 50's definition of the word. Do I think I'm a fallen women? The only falling I do is to my knees in front of a cock that I want to suck. Do I think I'm a whore? Hell no! I live my life, my way, and have absolutely no recriminations about it. I have tried it all - straight and kinky. I love everything that has to do with sex, well nearly everything.
I have been fucked by monster cocks and itty-bitty cocks. Cock size has absolutely nothing to do with fucking. Sure a big cock can be a turn on for a woman just like big breasts are to a man, but fucking, that's all attitude. I once fucked two midgets and they were fantastic. They were so small that I got one of their cock and balls in my mouth with room to spare, but when they fucked, ecstasy. I have also fucked a super monster that left me cold. I have fucked instant shooters that were great lovers and guys who just could not cum but could stay hard for ever that were miserable in bed. As I said, real “fucking” is all mental and depends on your attitude.
It's like breast size. The bigger the breasts does not mean the hotter the lady. I once knew a woman who was flat as the proverbial board yet the guys stood in line to date her. Simply stated she was one of the world's greatest fucks. She had the right attitude.
When I bed a man I am not looking for lasting relationships, I'm looking for an orgasm. If he doesn't respect me in the morning, who cares, I may not respect him that much either. Besides, I probably will not see him again. The few men that I have had a continuing relationship with consider themselves damn lucky, as do I.
I keep my sexual fun and games secret except from a few very select people. I have a complete separate identity for my sexual exploits. Basically no one who picks me up or who I pick up for sex knows my real name, address or telephone number. I am not interested in a “relationship” with these men. I, just like them, only want to get fucked. In fact, when I go to Las Vegas, the only people who know my real name are the Casino Managers and Credit Managers. They must, but they are used to keeping information like that highly confidential and they do. The Casino Managers know that I gamble for high stakes, am willing to let men pick me up and bed me. No one, and I mean no one, in Las Vegas management or employ has ever bothered me. In fact, they have protected me on the few occasions that I have been bothered. They know me as Carla R and it stays that way.
Many years ago I renewed my acquaintance with my cousin, Terri. Terri and I have had a lot of adventures as our enjoyment of sex appears to run in the family. I’m going to blog a few stories about our good times.
Though I have many friends, both male and female, those female friends near home who know the Carla side of my life actually comprise only a few. They are my cousin, Terri, who is as wild as me, a sixty year old woman, Mitzi, who looks 35 and Vickie, a nurse who I adore, and a couple of others. All of them fuck like gang busters. I was the one who broke Mitzi out of her shell, but that is another story. Terri and I discovered our mutual enjoyment of bed sports one weekend when we were both in Las Vegas, which is also another story. It must run in the family. Vickie I met in Alaska and we became super friends. The four of us are fast friends and see each other often. We have participated in orgies on many occasions.
Out of town I have a few friends, male, female and couples, who call me periodically and we meet in Nevada or elsewhere for weekends of fancy fucking.
Since I started my business it became very successful. I sold out a few years ago and now just play at being retired. I also hit a second super jackpot. I know I’ve been lucky.
Over the years I started writing about my experiences. I was dating a writer who had become successful. One day I was in his library and took down a loose leaf notebook. It was filled with sex stories that were wild. He came in and got bright red from embarrassment. He explained that he had written and sold these stories when he was just beginning. I read a few and said, “Hell, I can write this stuff! Besides, I have the experiences.” I wrote out a few and showed them to him. He said, “Hey, Carla, these are dam good.” He called a couple of magazines and I sold my very first story, “The Ladies who Gang Bang” based on the Beverly Hills Ladies-Who-Lunch type. After that I turned out about one every few months and submit them. I probably sell a third, the others just take up disk space until I rewrite them and resubmit them. I also write the letters found in magazines, you know, the ones that tell about the gal who screwed the three lifeguards or the guy who was hitchhiking and, well you get the picture. Pin money, but great fun. This same writer friend got me started on legitimate writing.
I’m going to use this blog to write about some of my experiences. I have year’s worth of the times in the past when you fucked for fun and you didn’t risk dying from it. I hope you enjoy what I tell. The sexual revolution freed many women from being crabby in bed. We lived for the moment and enjoyed ourselves.
I have no regrets for my past life. It has been fun, frenzied, and wild. Throughout I have kept my sense of humor and reality. I have never permitted myself to get bitter as many women do. Some may not approve, that's their privilege. I do not consider that I am doing something wrong because it is I who is doing it, besides it is just none of their fucking business. I firmly believe that the enjoyment of sex is individual. Admittedly, what with the new medical problems, I have cut down on my sexual adventures and am super careful now, but I still participate, just with much more caution.
Business was great so I started branching out and opened an office in the San Fernando Valley. A year later I bought a house in the Hollywood hills and moved. The house had a pool and deck overlooking the Los Angeles basin. It was completely shielded from the neighbors. When I remodeled I did so with a few extras that appealed to my sense of sex is fun.
I started dating in the Los Angeles area and through one friend and another I began going to parties in the movie and television industry. Though I stayed above the fray, I managed to screw around as much as I wanted.
I absolutely refused to have any guilt about sex. Truthfully I was fucking up a storm. Hell, everybody I knew was either bar hopping or having quicky affairs. Picking up guys or, as they thought, letting them pick you up was socially acceptable. I dated a lot of movie and TV people. I learned one thing about myself – I loved to have sex. Oh, shit, let’s be honest here: I didn’t “make love” or “have sex,” I FUCKED! It was as simple as that. If I liked a man, if I was turned on by him, if he wasn’t gay, we fucked, period! And did I fuck some champions. Movie stars, writers, directors, I went everywhere. I was fun, I was attractive, I had a great body and I was great in bed. I also had absolutely no guilt or demands. Didn’t call me again, hey, that’s his problem, not mine. I learned early on that if you make demands, you do not get called back. So I lived life for my own enjoyment.
I also was moving in a crowd that was, to use the obvious word, quite “fast.” This taught me a few important lessons. The first, and most obvious, was “Keep your mouth shut.” It’s amazing how quickly people learn that you gossip or tell tales and how quickly they stop calling. The second was “Absolutely no married men.” This is death on wheels. The third was that “If you take pictures of yourself fucking keep them in your safe, no one elses.” The fourth was to “Know a good doctor.” In those days everything could be cured by a shot in the ass. Because of that I started keeping a diary. That way I could recall who had the clap and who I might have to call. As I couldn’t have children, that was never a worry. It’s from those diaries that I’m going to write in this blog. Sorry, but I’ll never mention a name.
The final thing I learned was so much easier in those days before the instant communication of the internet.. “Keep your sex life as private as you can.” Remember that I was working for doctors. I don’t think they would continue to hire me if they knew I would fuck anybody. One thing that women who are liberal in their sex partners know is that many of their friends will not approve, for whatever reason. Early on I started becoming friends with a very small circle of women like me, women who, shall we say, were into fancy fucking. I call them my sex friends and if I need a fix-up for a man from out of town I’ll call one of them. Besides, I truly don’t think the ladies in my professional associations would really fit in. Some might want to, but ...
Over the years I discovered that I loved to gamble. I started going to Las Vegas, Reno or Lake Tahoe about once a month. I hit a super slot machine jackpot in Vegas some years ago (I came in my pants when I saw the four reels line up). It pays for my fun and games as I’m a very conservative investor!
I also started dressing sexier and sexier, but never for work, of course. At work I was all business. As my sex life and sexual ability was becoming more proficient, I found that I needed and wanted more. Up until this time I had not even thought of having more than one man at a time.
That changed while I was in Hawaii on vacation.
I was on the beach protecting myself from burning to a crisp which redheads do even when its cloudy. Underneath a large towel I had on a very sheer, one piece white bathing suit which left little or nothing to the imagination, my nipples were clearly visible through the fabric. I had started shaving my pussy so that was never a problem in showing through. After a while two guys came over. They were quite nice looking and in their late thirties. We started chatting. They asked me for lunch and I said great. When I stood up and uncovered to pick up my bag, towel and books, they whistled.
We had lunch and palled around the rest of the day. Sex was never mentioned except for the funny innuendos that usually come up. Later in the afternoon they asked if I would join them for dinner. Arrangements were made to meet in the lobby at eight. I napped and showered. I had thought about fucking the older one, but it was really just a passing thought. It never occurred to me that this evening would add a whole new dimension to my sex life. I dressed in a green, low cut dress with great cleavage and met them in the lobby.
We had dinner, went to a show and ended up in the hotel bar. They suggested we finish off the evening with the bottle of champagne that they had in their suite. Truthfully, by now I had a buzz on and was very horny so we went to their suite.
The bottle of champagne was opened and we sat around gazing out the terrace door at the ocean. After awhile we started talking about sex. They made it clear that they wanted to go to bed with me. I thought that would be fun. They got undressed and asked me to choose who was first. There were these two fabulous cocks staring me in the face. I started undressing leering at their cocks and getting more aroused by the minute. After I undressed I stood in front of them and let them fondle my breasts. I sat them on the couch and leaned over in between them so they could each suck my nipples and play between my legs. I kneeled between them and starting sucking their cocks, switching back and forth. They both came in my mouth and I came too.
Finally we went into the bedroom. I laid on the bed and, after they had sucked my nipples some more, one got on top of me. In mid fuck I started sucking the other one.
Discovery time! I loved it!!!! I got on my knees so one could fuck me doggie style and I sucked the other one off under me. Then we rested and they reversed positions. I came and came and CAME! I had never had such powerful orgasms.
For the rest of my vacation I fucked the two of them continuously. Mornings I would get up and suck each of them off. Then we would shower and they would fuck me in relays. In the afternoon I would double fuck and suck them. At night they would eat me until I started shrieking. Finally I took one in my cunt and one in my ass and went into sexual nuttyness. I am a screamer and one hell of a noisy fuck! Jesus, did I love it. Just getting double fucked by these two guys was shear heaven and could they keep it up.
I discovered that having two men was fabulous. Anyway, that's how I started swinging. Since then I have group fucked and gang banged whenever I want to. It is always my decision and my decision only. I love group sex and will take on the field. OK, so I am a bit wild, but I love my life style, just as I love sex and everything that goes with it. I have always kept my sex life completely separate from my serious life. The ladies in my professional association or in the charities I work on NEVER would dream about what my other life is like. Though I am sure a few of them would love to find out AND participate.
Do I think I'm a slut, well, probably, in the 50's definition of the word. Do I think I'm a fallen women? The only falling I do is to my knees in front of a cock that I want to suck. Do I think I'm a whore? Hell no! I live my life, my way, and have absolutely no recriminations about it. I have tried it all - straight and kinky. I love everything that has to do with sex, well nearly everything.
I have been fucked by monster cocks and itty-bitty cocks. Cock size has absolutely nothing to do with fucking. Sure a big cock can be a turn on for a woman just like big breasts are to a man, but fucking, that's all attitude. I once fucked two midgets and they were fantastic. They were so small that I got one of their cock and balls in my mouth with room to spare, but when they fucked, ecstasy. I have also fucked a super monster that left me cold. I have fucked instant shooters that were great lovers and guys who just could not cum but could stay hard for ever that were miserable in bed. As I said, real “fucking” is all mental and depends on your attitude.
It's like breast size. The bigger the breasts does not mean the hotter the lady. I once knew a woman who was flat as the proverbial board yet the guys stood in line to date her. Simply stated she was one of the world's greatest fucks. She had the right attitude.
When I bed a man I am not looking for lasting relationships, I'm looking for an orgasm. If he doesn't respect me in the morning, who cares, I may not respect him that much either. Besides, I probably will not see him again. The few men that I have had a continuing relationship with consider themselves damn lucky, as do I.
I keep my sexual fun and games secret except from a few very select people. I have a complete separate identity for my sexual exploits. Basically no one who picks me up or who I pick up for sex knows my real name, address or telephone number. I am not interested in a “relationship” with these men. I, just like them, only want to get fucked. In fact, when I go to Las Vegas, the only people who know my real name are the Casino Managers and Credit Managers. They must, but they are used to keeping information like that highly confidential and they do. The Casino Managers know that I gamble for high stakes, am willing to let men pick me up and bed me. No one, and I mean no one, in Las Vegas management or employ has ever bothered me. In fact, they have protected me on the few occasions that I have been bothered. They know me as Carla R and it stays that way.
Many years ago I renewed my acquaintance with my cousin, Terri. Terri and I have had a lot of adventures as our enjoyment of sex appears to run in the family. I’m going to blog a few stories about our good times.
Though I have many friends, both male and female, those female friends near home who know the Carla side of my life actually comprise only a few. They are my cousin, Terri, who is as wild as me, a sixty year old woman, Mitzi, who looks 35 and Vickie, a nurse who I adore, and a couple of others. All of them fuck like gang busters. I was the one who broke Mitzi out of her shell, but that is another story. Terri and I discovered our mutual enjoyment of bed sports one weekend when we were both in Las Vegas, which is also another story. It must run in the family. Vickie I met in Alaska and we became super friends. The four of us are fast friends and see each other often. We have participated in orgies on many occasions.
Out of town I have a few friends, male, female and couples, who call me periodically and we meet in Nevada or elsewhere for weekends of fancy fucking.
Since I started my business it became very successful. I sold out a few years ago and now just play at being retired. I also hit a second super jackpot. I know I’ve been lucky.
Over the years I started writing about my experiences. I was dating a writer who had become successful. One day I was in his library and took down a loose leaf notebook. It was filled with sex stories that were wild. He came in and got bright red from embarrassment. He explained that he had written and sold these stories when he was just beginning. I read a few and said, “Hell, I can write this stuff! Besides, I have the experiences.” I wrote out a few and showed them to him. He said, “Hey, Carla, these are dam good.” He called a couple of magazines and I sold my very first story, “The Ladies who Gang Bang” based on the Beverly Hills Ladies-Who-Lunch type. After that I turned out about one every few months and submit them. I probably sell a third, the others just take up disk space until I rewrite them and resubmit them. I also write the letters found in magazines, you know, the ones that tell about the gal who screwed the three lifeguards or the guy who was hitchhiking and, well you get the picture. Pin money, but great fun. This same writer friend got me started on legitimate writing.
I’m going to use this blog to write about some of my experiences. I have year’s worth of the times in the past when you fucked for fun and you didn’t risk dying from it. I hope you enjoy what I tell. The sexual revolution freed many women from being crabby in bed. We lived for the moment and enjoyed ourselves.
I have no regrets for my past life. It has been fun, frenzied, and wild. Throughout I have kept my sense of humor and reality. I have never permitted myself to get bitter as many women do. Some may not approve, that's their privilege. I do not consider that I am doing something wrong because it is I who is doing it, besides it is just none of their fucking business. I firmly believe that the enjoyment of sex is individual. Admittedly, what with the new medical problems, I have cut down on my sexual adventures and am super careful now, but I still participate, just with much more caution.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Chapter 1 of My Autobiography
Some years ago I was born. I make that statement clearly and distinctly to set to rest any rumors about my being hatched which may arise from my overabundance of sarcasm and wit. I was brought up in New York City with a strong Irish Catholic background. My parents were working class and very conservative. I went to high school in a nunnery, i.e. a Catholic school, where I wore a pretty little uniform. For some reason, known only to God, I didn't fill out that uniform until my senior year, when, suddenly – a bosom, a very big bosom. Before that I was just one of those cute, little, high school girls in a uniform.
I was not the most beautiful girl in school, nor the most charming, but somehow I was the winner. I was always at the head of my class, though I had picked up, from my father, a tough, championship level foul mouth. (Picture sweet, ordinary looking girl with wide mouth saying, “Fuck off!”) I never, ever participated in sports, though I did do some casual exercise. My idea of a good, Saturday evening was reading the papers or a book. A date was a rarity, but, during my senior year, I started dating the football team quarterback. To this day I am not sure why because my idea of sex until I was married was the magazines NOT permitted in our house so he didn't even get BT (remember that?).
Going on to college was never an option in my family. So I married the quarterback. I was, would you believe, a virgin until my honeymoon. Terrible word that, stigmatizes so many. As a matter of fact I refuse to fly Virgin Atlantic because I don't trust any airline that has never screwed anyone, like out of their luggage.
Mr. Quarterback turned out to be a born loser. Couldn't earn a dime, but drank beer with the boys regularly. I worked to support us. His idea of sex was the missionary position, period, about bi-annually. We divorced after a year and a half.
About a year later, still in my prime and, basically, still innocent, I met another boob who, for reasons not yet clear, I married. He, at least, had a job, a very good one. He also had a temper. Though he was a bit more intelligent than my first, he was, as I have since discovered, a jerk in bed. He got transferred to Lancaster which is in Los Angeles County. As he had bucks we bought a house.
One night, at a party at our home, he got drunk and hit me – ONCE and that was it. I grabbed a suitcase, the checkbook, the car and scrammed to a hotel. The next morning, when the bank opened, I cleaned out the family checking account, saw an attorney and got an apartment, in that order. We decided on a quick, clean divorce. I got the car, the house, a six figure settlement and was back on my own. He, lucky guy, did not get jail.
I went looking for a job. I had all the usual ones like sales clerking in a department store. I bounced around because I got bored with the monotony and the crappy pay. While I was working as that salesclerk a friend suggested that I get into a more career oriented occupation so I could make more money. I did some checking around and found out she was right. So I went back to school, got my skills in order and became a medical secretary and medical billing specialist. After a couple of beginning jobs I started working for a small group of doctors. The pay was fantastic and, because I was so terribly organized, I ended up running the office. I also got my real estate license and started picking up extra money selling houses.
After my second divorce I dated the usual group of ‘fix-ups’ from my friends. You know the kind - “He is so charming and so very nice, you really MUST meet him.” As I bore easily and do not suffer fools gladly I felt that most were jerks. Los Angeles is not exactly the best place in the world to meet really great men and, at that time, I was in the boonies, 85 miles from downtown Los Angeles. Though many of these men were, in fact, quite nice (for someone else) I did not find one that I wanted to have a relationship with. It was then that I decided that I probably would not get married again and that I wanted to enjoy my freedom.
I palled around with a group of girls from the Lancaster/Palmdale area and we would hit the bars and dances. It was more grope and choose then anything else. I bedded a few of the men I met, but nothing special. Though my understanding of sex was still the missionary position I did start realizing that I had been missing something as a few of these men were very good lovers.
One night I was having dinner with a gal and she asked if I enjoyed Las Vegas. I had never been there so she suggested we go. She knew I’d let a couple of guys pick me up and that I’d had sex with them so she mentioned that the men were hotter and more willing to spend a buck. We went a few times and had great fun. I got laid quite often. It was at this time that I started exploring sex and my own sexuality. It was also the time of the sexual revolution of the 60s and 70s so sex was everywhere. Would you believe that I did not have a cock in my mouth until my late twenties.
I have always been a believer in realistic self examination. I believe that is shown by my cutting my bad marriages short rather than hope and pray that they will improve, fat chance that. So many women stick it out and won't face the truth which is so sad, but that's not my style. Anyway, one day one of my friends commented, quite casually, that, as I was making good money, I really could improve my looks, especially the way I wore my hair and dressed. That hurt, though she didn't mean it to. I went home and looked in the mirror. I actually stared and examined myself very closely. I then got undressed and stared some more, front and back.
I got out a pad and listed my good points and my bad points. I still believe in serious self examination and the results, in my case, have been excellent. Though I went to the gym three days a week I wasn't taking it seriously and had been becoming a bit dumpy. I knew that I was not beautiful in the clean cut, American way, though, I suppose, with charity, a blindfold, and work on my part, I could be called ‘striking.’ I am five foot ten inches tall, my breasts are big, firm, and heavy with dead centered nipples, good legs, green eyes and long red hair, but I had developed a tummy. My idea of a hairdresser was a bottle in the bathroom. I had never had a manicure. My wardrobe was very ordinary, usually bought for business. I think my innate intelligence made me realize that both I and my wardrobe needed help.
I went to the nearest newsstand and bought every women's magazine available, something I had never done before. I went home, sat down and read each one. I looked at the ads and the models. I leaned back and the light bulb went off. Carla was a frump!
I picked up the phone and called one of my friends who always looked sharp. I told her my problems and asked for help. Now, we all know that there is nothing a woman loves more then to be told that she looks better than another woman who needs help, and asked to give assistance, well ‘hooray!’ Judy met me at my house the next morning and looked me and my wardrobe over. “Honey, I love you dearly, but you are truly a major disaster area.” When she learned that I did my own hair she snickered. When she looked at my bras she gagged. Judy then asked me what I was prepared to spend to get it all together. “Whatever it takes,” I said.
Judy looked again at my closet, shook her head, walked to the back yard, got a 30 gallon trash can, walked back in to the bedroom and started throwing. “Bad, awful, Goodwill Special, dreadful, years out dated, old fashioned, good only for work,” etc., etc. I was reduced to about three outfits that were passably suitable for the office.
“Come on,” Judy said, and took me to Sak's Fifth Avenue. “This is not going to be cheap nor easy, so be prepared.”
We started in the lingerie department and progressed to sport's wear, dresses and evening wear. “You have fabulous boobs, show ‘em. You've got great legs, show ‘em. Your eyes are green, accent them” ... and on and on. I got home with outfits I had never even considered before. Skirts cut at my thighs, necklines to my navel, and bras that lifted and displayed my breasts to Alpine heights. It cost me close to four months salary, but, as I tried on each outfit, I was thrilled. I also learned exactly what a Merry Widow can do for you.
The next Saturday Judy took me to her beauty parlor and I got the works. Manicure, facial, hair color, styling and makeup. When I left I knew I looked great and my sense of well being and self confidence improved 100 percent. Hey, in California, you get points for high self esteem. To this day I am a firm believer that there is no such thing as ugly women, just lazy ones.
In the interim I had arranged with my gym for a regular, strenuous workout schedule and diet. I proceeded to trim myself down. Now when I look myself over I still realize that, though I am not gorgeous, I am well put together. I accentuate my legs, breasts, hair and eyes which are my best physical attributes, and do enough to my face so that I don't cause any barph bags to be pulled out when seen.
Today I believe that I have “good taste,” but it has taken years of reading and training. I know my good points and play on them, my bad points I hide, except for my gross sense of sarcasm. My favorite store is Victoria's Secret. I have learned how to dress sexy, but not trampy, unless called for, and how to dress differently for each occasion. I think the most important thing I have learned is that covering up can be far, far more sexy than showing everything. An example: I have gone to the Academy Awards nearly every year with different actors, writers or directors. One year I wore a red dress that showed everything, and I looked like every starlit in the place. I was completely ignored. The next year I wore a floor length, grey silk dress that covered everything from neck to ankles, except it had slits up the side of the skirt. Under it I wore a bra that shoved my breasts out, but you couldn't see any cleavage. Men fell all over me. See - it left everything to the imagination.
When I dated I noticed the comments starting about how good I looked. I felt good. My self esteem had improved a thousand percent. Though I was making good money that was not the basis for my sense of worth. I decided that enjoying myself was becoming an important part of my life. As I had already decided that I would probably not get married again I dated solely for my own pleasure.
I was still not really that experienced in sex, and I knew it. Then I met Dixon. Dixon was a PhD in Electrical Engineering and worked at Boeing. He was six foot, rail thin, crew cut and wore, yes, horn rimmed glasses. Dixon was a complete gentleman and when I was with him I was a complete lady. I liked Dixon.
On the third date we had dinner and he asked if I’d like to go back to his house for a “drink.” “Jesus,” I said, “are you finally going to fuck me?” I may be a lady, but I’m not a shrinking violet. I think he almost crashed the car. “Well, I see I’m not going to have to waste an hour seducing you.” Dixon was a miracle!! He was a fabulous lover and teacher. So much so that I spent the weekend with him. He was the first man to get me to climax. He convinced me to try everything - from blowjobs to anal. He opened the world of wonderful sexuality to me and I have never stopped thanking him.
After Dixon and as I became more confident and comfotable with myself I noticed that the men in my life were also changing. I no longer dated duds just to go out, I would rather read a good book. I became very particular. I only dated men who would please me. I started dating some fabulous men running the spectrum from movie stars to accountants with highway patrolman and professional wrestlers in between.
If I bedded a man he had better want my pleasure to be as important as his. I started enjoying sex more and more. It was about this time that I became expert in the art of oral sex. My husbands had never really wanted to bother and most dates were happy to get a simple suck. Now I discovered that I loved to please a man, that men loved having their cocks sucked and that I had a passion for cum. The feeling of a man having an orgasm in my mouth was super erotically delightful. I also started having spectacular orgasms myself. I strongly maintain that this resulted from my own new feelings of self worth and that self worth made me realize that, yes, I can want a man sexually and, surprise, Carla can get horny.
That’s the First Chapter of my autobiography – Stand by for the next chapter.
I was not the most beautiful girl in school, nor the most charming, but somehow I was the winner. I was always at the head of my class, though I had picked up, from my father, a tough, championship level foul mouth. (Picture sweet, ordinary looking girl with wide mouth saying, “Fuck off!”) I never, ever participated in sports, though I did do some casual exercise. My idea of a good, Saturday evening was reading the papers or a book. A date was a rarity, but, during my senior year, I started dating the football team quarterback. To this day I am not sure why because my idea of sex until I was married was the magazines NOT permitted in our house so he didn't even get BT (remember that?).
Going on to college was never an option in my family. So I married the quarterback. I was, would you believe, a virgin until my honeymoon. Terrible word that, stigmatizes so many. As a matter of fact I refuse to fly Virgin Atlantic because I don't trust any airline that has never screwed anyone, like out of their luggage.
Mr. Quarterback turned out to be a born loser. Couldn't earn a dime, but drank beer with the boys regularly. I worked to support us. His idea of sex was the missionary position, period, about bi-annually. We divorced after a year and a half.
About a year later, still in my prime and, basically, still innocent, I met another boob who, for reasons not yet clear, I married. He, at least, had a job, a very good one. He also had a temper. Though he was a bit more intelligent than my first, he was, as I have since discovered, a jerk in bed. He got transferred to Lancaster which is in Los Angeles County. As he had bucks we bought a house.
One night, at a party at our home, he got drunk and hit me – ONCE and that was it. I grabbed a suitcase, the checkbook, the car and scrammed to a hotel. The next morning, when the bank opened, I cleaned out the family checking account, saw an attorney and got an apartment, in that order. We decided on a quick, clean divorce. I got the car, the house, a six figure settlement and was back on my own. He, lucky guy, did not get jail.
I went looking for a job. I had all the usual ones like sales clerking in a department store. I bounced around because I got bored with the monotony and the crappy pay. While I was working as that salesclerk a friend suggested that I get into a more career oriented occupation so I could make more money. I did some checking around and found out she was right. So I went back to school, got my skills in order and became a medical secretary and medical billing specialist. After a couple of beginning jobs I started working for a small group of doctors. The pay was fantastic and, because I was so terribly organized, I ended up running the office. I also got my real estate license and started picking up extra money selling houses.
After my second divorce I dated the usual group of ‘fix-ups’ from my friends. You know the kind - “He is so charming and so very nice, you really MUST meet him.” As I bore easily and do not suffer fools gladly I felt that most were jerks. Los Angeles is not exactly the best place in the world to meet really great men and, at that time, I was in the boonies, 85 miles from downtown Los Angeles. Though many of these men were, in fact, quite nice (for someone else) I did not find one that I wanted to have a relationship with. It was then that I decided that I probably would not get married again and that I wanted to enjoy my freedom.
I palled around with a group of girls from the Lancaster/Palmdale area and we would hit the bars and dances. It was more grope and choose then anything else. I bedded a few of the men I met, but nothing special. Though my understanding of sex was still the missionary position I did start realizing that I had been missing something as a few of these men were very good lovers.
One night I was having dinner with a gal and she asked if I enjoyed Las Vegas. I had never been there so she suggested we go. She knew I’d let a couple of guys pick me up and that I’d had sex with them so she mentioned that the men were hotter and more willing to spend a buck. We went a few times and had great fun. I got laid quite often. It was at this time that I started exploring sex and my own sexuality. It was also the time of the sexual revolution of the 60s and 70s so sex was everywhere. Would you believe that I did not have a cock in my mouth until my late twenties.
I have always been a believer in realistic self examination. I believe that is shown by my cutting my bad marriages short rather than hope and pray that they will improve, fat chance that. So many women stick it out and won't face the truth which is so sad, but that's not my style. Anyway, one day one of my friends commented, quite casually, that, as I was making good money, I really could improve my looks, especially the way I wore my hair and dressed. That hurt, though she didn't mean it to. I went home and looked in the mirror. I actually stared and examined myself very closely. I then got undressed and stared some more, front and back.
I got out a pad and listed my good points and my bad points. I still believe in serious self examination and the results, in my case, have been excellent. Though I went to the gym three days a week I wasn't taking it seriously and had been becoming a bit dumpy. I knew that I was not beautiful in the clean cut, American way, though, I suppose, with charity, a blindfold, and work on my part, I could be called ‘striking.’ I am five foot ten inches tall, my breasts are big, firm, and heavy with dead centered nipples, good legs, green eyes and long red hair, but I had developed a tummy. My idea of a hairdresser was a bottle in the bathroom. I had never had a manicure. My wardrobe was very ordinary, usually bought for business. I think my innate intelligence made me realize that both I and my wardrobe needed help.
I went to the nearest newsstand and bought every women's magazine available, something I had never done before. I went home, sat down and read each one. I looked at the ads and the models. I leaned back and the light bulb went off. Carla was a frump!
I picked up the phone and called one of my friends who always looked sharp. I told her my problems and asked for help. Now, we all know that there is nothing a woman loves more then to be told that she looks better than another woman who needs help, and asked to give assistance, well ‘hooray!’ Judy met me at my house the next morning and looked me and my wardrobe over. “Honey, I love you dearly, but you are truly a major disaster area.” When she learned that I did my own hair she snickered. When she looked at my bras she gagged. Judy then asked me what I was prepared to spend to get it all together. “Whatever it takes,” I said.
Judy looked again at my closet, shook her head, walked to the back yard, got a 30 gallon trash can, walked back in to the bedroom and started throwing. “Bad, awful, Goodwill Special, dreadful, years out dated, old fashioned, good only for work,” etc., etc. I was reduced to about three outfits that were passably suitable for the office.
“Come on,” Judy said, and took me to Sak's Fifth Avenue. “This is not going to be cheap nor easy, so be prepared.”
We started in the lingerie department and progressed to sport's wear, dresses and evening wear. “You have fabulous boobs, show ‘em. You've got great legs, show ‘em. Your eyes are green, accent them” ... and on and on. I got home with outfits I had never even considered before. Skirts cut at my thighs, necklines to my navel, and bras that lifted and displayed my breasts to Alpine heights. It cost me close to four months salary, but, as I tried on each outfit, I was thrilled. I also learned exactly what a Merry Widow can do for you.
The next Saturday Judy took me to her beauty parlor and I got the works. Manicure, facial, hair color, styling and makeup. When I left I knew I looked great and my sense of well being and self confidence improved 100 percent. Hey, in California, you get points for high self esteem. To this day I am a firm believer that there is no such thing as ugly women, just lazy ones.
In the interim I had arranged with my gym for a regular, strenuous workout schedule and diet. I proceeded to trim myself down. Now when I look myself over I still realize that, though I am not gorgeous, I am well put together. I accentuate my legs, breasts, hair and eyes which are my best physical attributes, and do enough to my face so that I don't cause any barph bags to be pulled out when seen.
Today I believe that I have “good taste,” but it has taken years of reading and training. I know my good points and play on them, my bad points I hide, except for my gross sense of sarcasm. My favorite store is Victoria's Secret. I have learned how to dress sexy, but not trampy, unless called for, and how to dress differently for each occasion. I think the most important thing I have learned is that covering up can be far, far more sexy than showing everything. An example: I have gone to the Academy Awards nearly every year with different actors, writers or directors. One year I wore a red dress that showed everything, and I looked like every starlit in the place. I was completely ignored. The next year I wore a floor length, grey silk dress that covered everything from neck to ankles, except it had slits up the side of the skirt. Under it I wore a bra that shoved my breasts out, but you couldn't see any cleavage. Men fell all over me. See - it left everything to the imagination.
When I dated I noticed the comments starting about how good I looked. I felt good. My self esteem had improved a thousand percent. Though I was making good money that was not the basis for my sense of worth. I decided that enjoying myself was becoming an important part of my life. As I had already decided that I would probably not get married again I dated solely for my own pleasure.
I was still not really that experienced in sex, and I knew it. Then I met Dixon. Dixon was a PhD in Electrical Engineering and worked at Boeing. He was six foot, rail thin, crew cut and wore, yes, horn rimmed glasses. Dixon was a complete gentleman and when I was with him I was a complete lady. I liked Dixon.
On the third date we had dinner and he asked if I’d like to go back to his house for a “drink.” “Jesus,” I said, “are you finally going to fuck me?” I may be a lady, but I’m not a shrinking violet. I think he almost crashed the car. “Well, I see I’m not going to have to waste an hour seducing you.” Dixon was a miracle!! He was a fabulous lover and teacher. So much so that I spent the weekend with him. He was the first man to get me to climax. He convinced me to try everything - from blowjobs to anal. He opened the world of wonderful sexuality to me and I have never stopped thanking him.
After Dixon and as I became more confident and comfotable with myself I noticed that the men in my life were also changing. I no longer dated duds just to go out, I would rather read a good book. I became very particular. I only dated men who would please me. I started dating some fabulous men running the spectrum from movie stars to accountants with highway patrolman and professional wrestlers in between.
If I bedded a man he had better want my pleasure to be as important as his. I started enjoying sex more and more. It was about this time that I became expert in the art of oral sex. My husbands had never really wanted to bother and most dates were happy to get a simple suck. Now I discovered that I loved to please a man, that men loved having their cocks sucked and that I had a passion for cum. The feeling of a man having an orgasm in my mouth was super erotically delightful. I also started having spectacular orgasms myself. I strongly maintain that this resulted from my own new feelings of self worth and that self worth made me realize that, yes, I can want a man sexually and, surprise, Carla can get horny.
That’s the First Chapter of my autobiography – Stand by for the next chapter.
Monday, November 2, 2009
My very first post
Please bear with me as I'm struggling with my start up blog. I've read dozens and they are either fun or boring. I can't stand boring, so if I fade into yuck, please say so, but give me a few weeks to understand how this all works.
First off I'm over the age of consent, way over! When I first got married (I'm going to post my bio as I go along) it was the start of the sexual revolution. By the time I dumped my second husband girls (ladies too) were picking up men for one night stands and not giving it a second thought. Being a helpful sort of person I pitched right in!
This is my start, I'll get going in a day or so.
First off I'm over the age of consent, way over! When I first got married (I'm going to post my bio as I go along) it was the start of the sexual revolution. By the time I dumped my second husband girls (ladies too) were picking up men for one night stands and not giving it a second thought. Being a helpful sort of person I pitched right in!
This is my start, I'll get going in a day or so.
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