Are You Really Sexy??

I belong to one of those massive Health Clubs that has members in the thousands. One advantage of this extravagance is that it has separate lady’s and men’s gyms, steam rooms and hot tubs. It also has a restaurant and, wow, valet parking, like you can’t walk from your car to work-out. Truly chic and upscale. What I can’t figure out is why we go to "upscale" gyms when the thought is to "down scale" (for me at least ten pounds more.)

I’ve just lost ten pounds and I want to lose another five. I should be happy now with that ten pound loss, but I want to fit into really neat clothes as I prepare for my next trip this Winter. If I had my druthers I’d just want the tummy tightened and the arm fat lessened. As we ladies know, at my age the tummy can be tucked, but the arm hangers are a killer.

No, I will NOT have painful and unnecessary plastic surgery. The only person I would be kidding would be myself. Besides that I love to grin and say "Of course," when I’m asked, "Are they real?"

Anyway, there I was having lunch, the "natural" salad, i.e., no dressing just lemon, minding my own business when over walked Lily. Now, Lily and I have met around the club. She’s 28, about five foot six, boobs in the Seven Thousand Dollar range, blonde from the bottle, ultra thin and well, she's really sort of nice. Oh, yes, Lily is a "Porn Star." By the way, I’ve always wondered why are they always "stars?" Why aren’t there any "porn extras?"

She looked down at me and said, "Do you think I’m sexy?"

I thought for a moment, looked her up and down and replied, "No," returning my attention to my salad. Shit, she was wearing a white t-shirt with her nipples showing through. It was at least one size too tight. Her shorts exposed everything and she had on come-fuck-me shoes.

Lily plopped herself down at the table, unasked, of course, "Why?"

"Lily, the reason you are not sexy is that you are a fake. You prance around here thinking you’re something special. You’re rude to everyone. You’re nose is always up in the air. What have you got to be so snobby about? Hey, honey, reality check, you fuck for a living! You probably fuck by the script and come across stiff and boring. If you want to be sexy you must learn to be nice to people, to enjoy sex, and I don’t mean look like you enjoy it, but actually enjoy it."

I held up my hand, fork, lettuce and all, "Please, don’t tell me about your deprived childhood or that you were abused. I won’t believe a word of it. Why? Because you wouldn’t have asked me the question if there were any extraneous reasons. Besides that you’re making a fucking fortune humping guys in the movies."

"Oh, yes," I continued, "Sexy includes dressing sexy, not looking like a tramp or a two dollar hooker." I stood up, took Lily’s arm and pulled her over to a nearby mirror. "Look at yourself! Who the fuck wants to see your nipples all the time or your ass crack or your pussy line. Jesus, girl, get a grip. You look like a fucking street whore. At least if you want to look like a porn star, look like a quality porn star. But you sure don’t look sexy. You may look sexual or like an easy lay, but you don’t look sexy in the sophisticated and true meaning of the word."

I dropped her arm, returned to my seat and started in on my crappy salad.

Lily looked at me with a glare that could kill. "I saw you at The Palm last weekend and you looked absolutely fabulous. The guys we were with said that you were super sexy looking and then they fumbled over whether we were sexy looking. Do I really look like a tramp?"

"Lily, sit down and let me eat my salad. Now, what, besides your seeing me, brought this on? Honey, you’re great looking with a super figure, what happened? Truth, now, I can see through a con job a mile away."

"Carla, I’m 28 and, yes, I'm a tramp. I know that, nobodies kidding nobody. Hell, I may be a "porn star," but you’re right, I screw for a living. I just get paid better then a Two-Dollar whore. Carla, I am not dumb. I know me. I’m now looking to the future and I don’t want to wake up one morning and actually be that tramp. That’s my biggest fear. I want to meet someone. I want to get out. But, I’m no fool, I’ll always be a porn actress, it’s like a big tattoo across my forehead. I just want to see myself a little be more mature.

"..... and, yes, admission number one – Every man who takes me out wants nothing more then to be seen with me and then to fuck me. I am not an idiot! I ooze sex or as you would probably put it more bluntly, I ooze fuck. ..... and, yes, you’re right, I know it, I’m not sexy, I'm slutty. I need a quick lesson in sexy and maturity."

Hey, I can’t arge with that. Here I am, Miss 55 Years Old, and I’ve got this young chick with the boob job and the botox forehead asking my advice. I did the same about 25 years ago and look at me. Should I help her or tell her to go scram? Well, you know the answer, I called my cousin, Terri, and we made plans!

I have a very simple definition of "Sexy." The dictionary and I tend to agree. Sexy is all attitude, I've said that before. But sexy includes the peripheral things that go to make up the whole package. Sexy is not showing your breasts through a wet t-shirt, sexy is not huge cleavage, sexy is not see through dresses, sexy is not leaving anything to the imagination, sexy is not having lost your virginity, sexy is not talking dirty and cussing on the streets, sexy is not looking like a tramp, and, most important, sexy is not buying expensive little outfits on Melrose Avenue. Look at it this way, we all know you fuck - Why advertise it?

I'll tell you what sexy is. Sexy is wearing a full length dress curled around your neck and no clevage. Underneathe that dress you wear a push up bra that mounds your boobs, but doesn't show them or your nipples. That's sexy. Sexy is smiling and laughing at your dates jokes. Sexy is enjoying yourself and making him feel like a king. Sexy is being smart. Sexy is not being dumb. Sexy is reading a newspaper so you can talk about current events. Sexy is not being boring. Sexy is always being a lady. Sexy is not letting a man go to bed with you on the first or second date.

Sexy is never, ever cursing or using bad language. Being "one of the boys" is really not very sexy or smart for that matter. Now, there is one exception to the being a lady and not using bad language rule. When you have decided that tonight's the night and you're finally going to bed the man then, when you're in the car after dinner and pulling away from the restaurant, you can turn to him with a really nice smile on your face and say, "Honey, take me back to my place. I want to fuck you!"

This accomplishes two things. First it let's him know that he's got a tiger by the tail and two, he'll be so surprised he'll cum in his pants. That way when you do hit the sheets he won't cum the instant you start working him over.

Caution - Only do that if you want to "fuck." If you want him to make love to you, well, be a bit more subtle.

Follow my rules and you will be considered "SEXY!" You'll also be considered smart.

The Atlantic - January/February 2011

Have you seen the Atlantic this month. I read the two articles on sex and came away thoroughly pissed. The first is on that dippy girl at Duke who wrote a thesis on her sexual contacts. Now she's just dumb. But it was the second that got me really annoyed.

Why is it that every girl in an ultra liberal city like Santa Barbara thinks she can comment on my sexuality. Christ, almighty, why doesn't she just go and get laid?

Oops, I've got to run, but more on this topic tomorrow.

What are Two Ladies To Do?

Last Wednesday Mitzi called and asked what I was doing over the weekend. Nothing was on tap for me. "Let’s go to Lake Tahoe," she said.

"Great," was my instant reply, "I’ll make the arrangements."

Now, me, I love Nevada. Any place with a crap table and a baccarat table is nifty special in my book. I called my casino host at Harveys and got two suites reserved. Made the plane reservations and e-mailed Mitzi the details.

Thursday got the hair done and a spruce up on my waxing. Checked the wardrobe and packed in the afternoon. Got a good evening’s sleep so Friday morning I was bright eyed, bushy tailed (well, I hope not) and ready to go. Easy flight and when we reached Reno, there was a limo waiting so off we went after collecting our bags. Got to the hotel in time to get a massage and a nap.

OK, it’s seven o’clock, time for dinner. We intended to eat and then sit at the baccarat table for a couple of hours.

I suppose you’d like to know about Mitzi. As you know, I’m in my 50s, Mitzi is, well, a little older but looks a little younger. As both of us get to the gym at least three times a week we’ve kept in shape. Mitzi’s boobs are bigger then mine and mine are large. Obviously ours are real, hell, at our age, they’d better be!

Even though Lake Tahoe is very casual I like to get reasonably dressed up in the evening. I was wearing an emerald green silk pants and top with a low, rounded neckline. My bra, a Victoria’s Secret special, kept the toys up, out and wide, nothing tight as I liked them to sway and jiggle. Mitzi was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt that cost a bundle and she had a jeans top on. Her t-shirts are made to order so her massive breasts are clearly accentuated. May I humbly say that we looked great!!

I’d made a dinner reservation for eight at the 19 Kitchen-Bar on the 19th floor of Harveys. When we arrived Vincent, the Maitre ‘d, who I knew, sat us at two reserved chairs at the end of the bar for a couple of drinks before taking us to our table. I ordered the best Irish they had and Mitzi had a martini. Within ten minutes we were the center of a crowd of men.

This always happens and it’s not cougar time. It’s just plain attitude. Mitzi and I are fun. We laugh, we joke, we drink, we smile, we listen, we buy our own drinks (actually I’m comped), we flirt and we demand nothing. One day I’m going to blog about the two gorgeous gals at the other end of the bar and why the men surrounded us. They were blonde, beautiful, dressed great and had super, Ten Thousand Dollar boob jobs. Oh yes, they were also arrogant, hostile and obviously very high maintenance. Do they really think they’re going to find a multi-millionaire, good looking athlete at Lake Tahoe?

About 30 minutes later Vincent made eye contact with me and when I nodded he came over to escort us to my regular table. After we ordered Vincent came back, "Miss R, I have an offer of a bottle of wine for you and your friend from the gentlemen over there."

"Good wine?" I asked.

"Upper middle of the reds."

"You know them?"

"They come three or four times a year, full comp, the one on the left is widowed, he’s about 40 the other is divorced, also 40 or so." As you can see, Vincent is a treasure. He protects me from the bums and the drunks. A side note about my relations with casino employees. One I tip very well. Two I never, never date a casino employee. Though they are super discrete I don’t want to have one get jealous and cause a problem. So, like married men, they are a pure no-no.

I glanced at Mitzi, she nodded OK, so I smiled at the two men and told Vincent to say how much we appreciated the wine and would they like to join us for desert, coffee and brandies.

About 20 minutes later I looked over at the guys and waved them to our table. Charles and Harold sat down and we started talking. Six brandies later Vincent came over and said, "Miss R, we’re closing." It was 11:30. For over two hours we had been talking and laughing and thoroughly enjoying ourselves. It was a great time.

"Let’s go to the bar for a last one," I said. By the way, I cannot be drunk under the table. One thing I’ve learned in life is how to hold my liqueur.

At midnight I looked at my watch and gave the wink to Mitzi. I’ve been around her long enough to know if the man she’s with is going to get laid and by the look in her eyes, he’s was going to get the fucking of a life time.

I’m going to say a further word here about Mitzi and I. We’re both over 50. We’ve kept our bodies in shape. We may not be those young, tight, blonde, boobie chicks, but we’re also not vapid, arrogant, insolent, stupid and, if you bed us, we don’t make you feel like you’ve just been handed the favor of all time. Actually, if you bed us you’ve just had the fucking of a lifetime because we’re fun and enjoy sex. Hell, go ahead, mess our hair. Here is a straight forward truism. If you’re with a man and getting laid he will adore you if you visibly enjoy it. If you don’t then what the shit are you doing getting laid? If the best you can do is, "Honey, go ahead, stick it in, but don’t mess my hair" then may I suggest you quickly find a nunnery. You’re not worth the effort!

Anyway, I stood up and said "Jesus, it’s late, I’ve got to get to bed. Charlie, would you like to join me?" Charlie, who’d been hoping against hope and staring at my tits for two hours, just had his greatest wish handed to him and all he could say was, "Ahh, well, ahhh, oh ..... Thank God, for a minute there I thought you hadn’t noticed my interest."

Mitzi looked at Harold, smiled like the Cheshire Cat, tightly grabbed his arm and whispered, "Harry, honnnney, let’s fuck."

Our suites were on the same floor, so we took the elevator together. As I passed Mitzi I said, "Wear him out and don’t call me until ten."

Charlie and I arrived at my door. I pushed him inside. The only light was the dim glow coming through the windows.

I slowly pulled him to me, pressing my full body against his. I opened my mouth and kissed him deeply, my tongue playing cat and mouse with his. I ran my hands over his head and through his hair, I pulled back and nibbled into his ear with slow breaths and little tongue jabs, I kissed him again and could feel that he was hard as a rock. "Oh, yes, Charlie, you’re interested in fucking me aren’t you?" Please understand that this was not "making love." This was SEX, fucking if you will, but animal sex.

Another long kiss. I leaned back and smiled at him, slid my hand over his cock, "Charlie, may I see it, please?"

He started undressing as I ran my hands over his body while moving around him. I unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off. Very lightly I ran my hands over his chest. He pulled his pants off, then his shoes and socks. I kissed him again with my tongue far into his mouth. I slid down to his cock and pulled his undershorts off.

Into my mouth his cock went. I knew he would blast in a minute, so I left off and climbed up to his lips where I slid my fingers in and played with his tongue and then kissed him again.

Over the years I’ve learned a few things, one is that men just love to undo my bra and have my breasts fall into their hands and faces so I sat him down on the couch and slowly took off my shoes and pants. Then off came my panties so he could see that I had a fully waxed vagina which caused him to moan in anticipation. I slipped off my top and stood there letting him drink in my next move.

I climbed on top of him kneeling on the couch my legs on either side of him. I leaned forward and kissed him again and whispered into his ear, "They’re all yours, darling, all yours. The clasp is in front."

He fumbled until he undid my bra and let my breasts fall into his hands. I kissed him again then cupped my tits so he could suck on my nipples. Hungry wasn’t the right word. Starving was more like it. My nipples were hard as rocks and he sucked on each one. Finally I pushed up and slide his cock into my cunt.

God, but do I love to feel a man’s cock inside me. I moved very gently on top of it. I kissed him again while he fondled and cupped my tits. I knew he was going to cum so I slipped off and took him into my mouth where he exploded with a massive gush of cum and groans. I swallowed and let him go, "More, I need much more," I said.

He pulled me up and kissed me and we went to the bedroom. He laid me on the bed and started eating my pussy. I came in moments and he just continued licking and sucking my clit. He moved to my rear and reamed me finally climbed up on top of me and slid his cock into my cunt. He fucked and fucked and I was screaming and hissing into his ear, "Yes, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, God Dam I love cock, oh, shit harder, more, you fucking cock, ram it in, oh yes, oh yes ....."
Finally we both exploded together and collapsed in each other arms.

God dam, I had just been super well fucked!! We cuddled for awhile, slept, fucked again and about four AM he left. Now, that was Friday night!!
　
　

A Word About Orgies

As said when I started this blog I was going to retell a few stories about my past life. Truthfully I haven’t been on because I just didn’t know what to tell. Well, after some advice from one of the bloggers on here I’m just going to let my thoughts ramble. If you like this - Great! If you don’t, well, tough shit.

I was once asked if I would like to attend a concert in the Los Angeles area. Now, I know it may not match up with some small minds, but you truly can enjoy both great music and fancy fucking. Actually, I also love the opera.

So, there I was at a reception after the performance and I was being introduced to a few of the musicians by my host. Imagine my surprise when one of them turned to meet me and, with a streak of recognition, she got a look a sheer terror in her eyes.

I knew immediately who she was. She was a women who had attended a few orgies and swing parties I’d been to. I simply thanked her for a marvelous performance, complimented the orchestra and moved on. Later in the evening I went to the lady’s room and on the way back she stopped me and drew me aside. She thanked me for my discretion and asked if we could have lunch one day. We exchanged numbers and moved on. Here’s some advice. The best thing an ultra sexual person can have is a friend she can be completely open with. I have cultivated those friends because I need them. I’m lucky as my cousin, Terri, is as big a fucker as I am. If you don’t think you can find such friends, just listen to the chatting at your health club.

So here are a few orgy rules:

RULE NO. ONE – If you recognize someone you know either at an orgy or afterwards keep your mouth shut. Period!
Now, I’m no one to harp on the obvious, but ...

RULE NO. TWO – PLEASE, take a good shower before you go!! Also, trim your pubic hair. No one like to go down and get a mouthful of hair. Men, a shaved cock looks bigger!! Ladies, a waxed and smooth pussy is so very inviting. Also, ladies, use some lotion like KY lubricant on your pussy. It really helps.

RULE NO. THREE – You are not going to meet your dream mate at an orgy. The chance of George Cloony or Madonna dropping by is nil! You will meet a cross section of America. Yes, fat and thin, short and tall, big and small cocks and boobs, young and old. What you will meet are people just like you - horny bitches and bastards looking to fuck up a storm.

RULE NO. FOUR – If you go into the "Anything Goes Room" that means you’ll take on all comers. If the fat, old guy or gal comes in, just get to fucking and enjoy it.
As an aside I know a couple, about 50, who are simply fabulous at a sex party. They both fuck like gangbusters, are hugely funny about sex and have mouths like truck drivers. They are a pleasure to have join in.

RULE NO. FIVE – Please if you’re going to an orgy have NO hangups about sex. There is nothing worse then to have a guy who cannot perform or a gal who starts crying. Do not go to a swing party if you haven’t tried MFM or FMF before you go. You cannot just be dropped into such a sexually intense situation without some experience in your background.
My preferences are simple. I think the best men at an orgy are those who have no hangups about sex. They love to please a women, they love to please themselves, and they have a reasonable amount of stamina. Also I prefer men who talk during sex. Finally, men who can handle the deep intensity of the sexuality of an orgy are my favorites. As to women, they should be willing to experience the simple fact that they will cum and cum. Some women just cannot handle multiple, intense orgasms, or, unfortunately, they cannot enjoy sex. Also to enjoy a multiple partner sex situation a women should have no shame about sex. She is going to be stark naked in front of women and men and she will be spreading her legs for cock and opening her mouth for cock.
If you’ve got a hang-up about sex or your body – Stay Home!!
So many people who like to think they would be good at an orgy have neither experienced nor do they understand the sexual high from the passion of an orgy. I have a final suggestion. Go with a friend! That way you can retell the experience and laugh at the fun of it. Yes, have a few fuck friends. People you can laugh with about sex. I have six women friends who are my fuck friends. We are very close and have participated in sexual hi-jinx together. I keep them completely separate from my other friends.

RULE NO. SIX – If you don’t have fun at an orgy you should just not go.
When I think back on my experiences with multiple partner sex three orgys come to mind. One was in Alaska which I’ll tell about one day. The second was, bluntly a paid experience that was a gift to my cousin, Terri, and me. That was at the Spa of Heavenly Delights in Macau. The Spa is a place where women can go to get their wildest sexual dreams satisfied by men who are completely professional in doing so. I’ve been to the Spa a couple of times simply to please my desire for powerful orgasms.
The third was in Australia. This was a straight forward fuck-a-rama. There were four of us. Terri, me, and our two lady friends from Australia who set it up. I’m saving this adventure for a later post.

I hope these few paragraphs will help. Look, go to an orgy and enjoy. If you’re guilty about enjoying sex, well, too bad, if you’re not - SUPER!!