The Saga of J: Part One

“You’re not going in?”

I looked up. J. was peering down at me.

“No.”

He looked like he expected more.

“I’m not that fond of salamanders, and the lake’s full of that slimy algae. I hate the way it feels on my skin, like I’ll never be clean again.”

He nodded and grinned. I noticed then for the first time his full lips, and how cute and round his teeth were. He yawned, stretched, and plopped down on the log next to me, shuffling the sand around and letting it slip through his toes.

“Whatcha readin’?”

“Mm. The Fountainhead,” I replied.

“Ooh.” He leaned back as if sizing me up. Then he whispered playfully. “S-s-s-sexy... Steff.”

I snickered and jabbed him playfully with an elbow.

We’d been casual friends for a couple years and it’d always been comfortable. In the last couple weeks before we wound up lakeside, I’d started to realize how much he’d changed. And I was single now, so.

He’d gone a little punk, wearing retro Sex Pistols and Clash t-shirts, a studded leather wristband, but he was still a cute teddy-bearish guy. Now that he was next to me, I realized his 6’1 frame was far sturdier than I thought. Shirtless was illuminating.

J. glanced around. “Abandoned us, those fuckers. You’re stuck with me.”

“You’re not going in?”

“I’m quite happy where I am,” and looked me straight in the eye.

I smiled. “So, um, I’ve read this before,” holding up my Rand opus. “It’s kind of filler. My week is a little slow.”

“That can be a good thing. Hey. Would you mind?”

He held up a bottle of Coppertone and gestured to his bare back.

I licked my llips and bit the bottom one, something I do far too often when I’m getting interested. “Well,” I deadpanned, “I’d mind. Yeah. But you could make it up to me.”

“Oh... I’d be happy to. Selfless of you, really. You want me sitting or laying down?”

“Down,” I asserted.

“Yes, ma’am,” he sputtered, with a smirk.

He picked up the towel, shook it off, laid it out, and slowly, deliberately, smoothed it out. I bit my lip as I watched his meaty hands. Always did like men with large hands.

He stretched out on the sand, and I knelt beside him. “Go gentle,” he mumbled.

“Anything you want, sweetcheeks.” I filled my palm with oil, rubbed my hands together and went to work. From past conversations, I remembered how he liked his massages: deep and hard. I acquiesced.

Kneading him, I began to realize that I wasn’t playing anymore. I wanted to fuck him. I began working on his lower lumbar, sliding my hands slightly under his waistband. Not far enough to accomplish anything, but just enough to show I was interested in going further. I moved slowly up his back, over the shoulders, and began to knead. I leaned down and playfully bit his right shoulder.

He didn’t startle, but he did react. Coolly, he turned his head so he could see me, propped up ever so much on his left elbow.

He squinted in the sun as he glanced at me. “Kinda warm out, huh?”

“Yeah. The temperature’s a bitch.”

“You know, I made some iced tea last night, “ he said, grinning slyly.

“Mm. Too bad you live 45 minutes away.”

“True... but a pleasure delayed isn’t necessarily a pleasure denied.”

I’m such a sucker for literary men. Fuck, a man that can spin some words has definitely got the edge over the competition. I nearly melted then and there.

“Well, J. It’s a long drive. Shouldn’t we be going?”

“Mm. Yeah.”

We gathered our things. Our friends were all out in the water and none of them saw us leaving. Didn’t matter. We hopped in my Colt and left the beach.

I was driving us out of the narrow, tight park, and needed to concentrate. The interruption caused us to lose our flow. I stuck some tunes in. The Cure spun up. “So, new Cure’s out soon,” I said, trying to start conversation after an awkward three minutes of silence.

“Yes, it is. Friday, I’m In Love,” he said. “So, Steff, have you ever been blindfolded?”

“Well, at birthday parties with pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey--”

He laughed at me. “No, no. During sex.”

“Uh... No, never.”

“What about getting tied up?”

“I didn’t know you were into this stuff, J.”

“I’m into it in a different kinda way. See, it’s not what you think it is.”

“Do tell.”

“Well,” he said. He folded his left leg under his right and shifted to face me a little. “Blindfolding changes things. It makes you more conscious of the feelings, of everything else--smell, touch, sound... taste.” He licked his lips slightly and leaned over the console, casually turning down the song with his right hand and slipping his left over my right thigh, where he let it rest.

Looking at me, he continued. “And the tying-up thing, means that all you have to do...” as he slowly, deliberately lowered his left hand towards my inner thigh, “is just lie there and let me make you,” he squeezed my thigh, “very, very...” and forcefully traced his middle and index fingers over my clit, “happy.”

He began to massage the lips slightly. “I’d love to really show you what I’ve been wanting to do to you for all this time.”

“All this time?”

“Where I’ve wanted to kiss you, and suck, and bite...”

He pulled his hand back slowly, squeezed my thigh again, and sat back, placing his right hand just above my knee on my thigh. “And what would you like to do to me?”

I breathed deeply, smiled, glanced sideways at him, and replied, “That, actually.”

He grinned. “Ooh. Goodie. It’s a date, then.”

For the next half an hour, we talked about trust and how I could let him know I was uncomfortable. We talked about tying me up so I could easily get loose when scared. But mostly, we talked about the fucking. Before that, though, J. explained how he might let me lie there, blindfolded and bound, while he gathered some props and accessories for the experience.

“Intrigue is the sexiest thing about it,” he explained. Never being opposed to suspense, I said I’d be fine lying there tied in the pseudo-dark.

Finally, we reached his home.

TO BE CONTINUED. The next part's when it gets spicy. Stay tuned.

Geez, what's a girl got to do to get comments? Promise oral sex all around or something?

What a coincidence... I'm wet, too

I'm off to the gay Pride parade now. This one goes out to all the gay boys I know.

It's just yummy. I wonder how many dykes will try hitting on me today. Sigh. Going to a gay pride parade isn't exactly the number-one hetero-chick thing to do when it comes to meeting the kind of men I can take home and fuck, now, is it?

But I'm sure to take some fun photos. Bottoms up. ;)

For those awaiting the tale of how I chipped my tooth during sex, you'll be happy to know it's in the process of being written. Part one tonight or tomorrow. Stay tuned. Rowr!

between the sheets

i got some laundry done today, including my favourite sheets, the 250-thread count egyptian cotton ones. naturally, the bed is now immaculately dressed.

the heat wave is breaking briefly, just for tonight. it's fallen several degrees and a breeze has been conjured for the first time in about a week, with today being the most insufferable yet--until now.

soon, i'll have a hot bath with baby oil, and toy with myself in the tub before i crawl naked into bed.

but thanks to this slightly cool breeze wafting in off the ocean, and with any luck, completely unclad, i'll cool down and remain a little on the chilled side all night long.

i sleep naked year-round, but it's so much more enjoyable in the summer. i love the sensation of being naked under a single sheet on a hot night, the top sheet often completely askew, maybe a leg dangles over the side of the bed, a nipple protrudes, when a warm breeze whispers over my skin.

when it comes to that taunting breeze, nothing evokes the simple eroticism of summer for me better than sleeping naked -- except fucking outdoors.

but tonight, the only option i have is that of crawling into bed alone, naked. so, without ado.



* * *

in case you hadn't noticed, visuals will be a big part of this site. i intend to have a lot of erotic images posted, and many will be nudes. that said, i think porn is uninspiring, so i prefer fine art nudes or retro porn from the '50s and beyond.

hopefully, this site will have a unique look and feel as a result. if you find images you think are suitable for The Cunting Linguist, please email them to me. thanks.

Making the cut

One of my fave people, Steve, wrote this nifty little bit on circumcision. I didn't realize that there was such a difference in percentages between the UK & the US as far as how many men are circumcised. It starts with a hilarious men's room account. Do read it.

My two cents? Less is more. Like any meat, it's all about the cut for me. This is more luck than selection, but I've only ever been with one uncut guy. What can I say?

Besides, oral's a little more enjoyable as a giver when the lid's gone.

To Shave, or Not to Shave?

That is the question.

My answer is, absolutely. I just spent some quality time taking care of nature’s overgrowth before a long hot soak in the tub with a little oil. It feels great.

Depubing your privates goes a long way to improving sex. Personally, not only does a guy’s facial stubble enhance my oral experience, but so does being relatively hairless where it counts.

I’ve said it before, oral puts the pleasure in sex. For me, there’s nothing quite so enthralling as well-done oral. (Of course, a girl can’t live on oral alone.)

But oral can be a dirty job. In which case, I say: Run like the fucking wind.

Let’s face it. Better hygiene gets you better service.

Spelunking can be downright nasty when you don’t know what you’re about to encounter. This is true of cavernous spaces as well as muff and cock.

Now, I realize hair is natural. There are those who will wax poetic about keeping your pubes intact. In fact, once upon a time, I used to preserve my forests. It wasn’t a moralistic thing, though. It was all about razor burn.

It’s bad enough to have razor burn anywhere on your body, but to have it between your legs, in the folds of the skin, is damned unnecessary.

That’s one of the problems with “maintenance.” For those of us with sensitive skin, it can be a chore. Fortunately, thanks to lovely chemists and chemicals, the gods of the Bunsen burner have made it possible to go mostly hairless without the nasty skin reactions.

So the question is, why should anyone resort to harsh chemicals, razor burn, waxing, or electrolosys just to remove hair that belongs where you found it?

Because there ain’t no food group that includes hair. Because there are better ways to floss.

Now, I enjoy giving head. I do. If the guy is clean and trimmed, that is. Hygiene means I’ll go the extra mile to give that extra special service. If things ain’t spiff? You’re banished to the quickie lane, my friends. Trust me, it’s better I linger and do a little detailing. But do your share.

Body odor? Don’t even pass go. Too hairy down there? I’ll be cut off at the path.

After all, oral pleasure isn’t about routine. It’s about moving around and applying pressure, sucking, nibbling, licking, and massaging all over the region. It’s not about just the head or the clit. It’s about the inner thighs and everything in between. Without excessive hair, a lover feels more like roaming and nibbling. Face it, skin tastes awesome. Hair, not so much.

Besides, too much hair robs you of some great sensations.

For example, that tingling, arousing feeling that hits you when your partner pauses mid-oral, and you’re sopping from a mixture of saliva and your juices, and they lean almost completely in, hovering, and breathe long, hot, slow breaths onto your your moist skin, causing this titillating mix of hot/cold that’s enhanced by their breathy breeze. It’s like the perfect day at the beach.

These days, I may not “shave” per se, but I’m very well trimmed. I praise the makers of Veet and other fine products for making my life a little more comfortable and sexy. I can’t believe I ever tolerated the bushlands, because I now find it itchy and the wrong kind of moist. I enjoy the extra attention my lovers give me.

That said, I gotta say, it’s nice to see more guys caring about their coiffs now. If it helps to do the job better...

After all, it’s very empowering to deliver quality oral, and taking the long, twisted, scenic route makes it all the more rewarding.

When proper forestry practices are maintained, of course.

Let the Games Begin

Ah, the inaugural posting.

Where to begin? The balls? The shaft? A fine question.

But no, we’ll start with something a little less tasty. Let’s go for that age-old question of why. Why the Cunting Linguist.

Hmm. Good question.

I’ve always enjoyed innuendo. I enjoy batting it around. I love being a tease, sexually and intellectually. It’s all a game.

Unfortunately, a lot of people didn’t pick up the handbook, and too many people ignore the fucking rules.

That said, people who’ve read me elsewhere are thinking, “So, it’ll be mostly rants about sex?”



Honestly? I haven’t a fucking clue. I’m starting to think it’d be fun to write some erotica as well -- my style, whatever that might be. It’ll definitely include stories from my past. I’ve already promised to tell the tale of when I chipped a tooth during sex.

And I will, but it’s a long story and involves another face from my past, one I miss and would love to encounter along a bare wall with the lights down low.

An epic finish to that tale, one that would see both the players utterly satiated, and then totally denied a future encounter when The Truth would enter the picture. If there’s one ex-lover I want to phone when it’s 3:00 in the morning on a hot night, no breeze, and that familiar tingle and shortening of breath finds me alone in my bed... It’d be J.

I have a lot of strong feelings about sex. I think we’re denied a lot of pleasure due to hang-ups in society. That said, I’m still a pretty old-fashioned girl in some regards, since I’ve never been promiscuous, and I’m not into swinging or the like.

No, for me it’s still about romance, creativity, sex toys, light bondage, teasing, taunting, toying, food, stimulants, erotica, music, location, and lighting. How dull.

I’ll admit, I’m a little curious about sadomasochism, but I honestly have to say that I enjoy pleasure and reward, doting and toying. Punishment isn’t really my bag. But I wouldn’t want to be judgmental, if you know what I mean.

Still, I’ve encountered a surprising amount of men who think they’re open and adventurous when it comes to sex, but you mention the word “bondage” and there’s this image they conjure of some dom maxed-out in leather with a bull-whip and studded collars.

Sure, if stereotypes fit your bill. I have no bullwhip, and very little leather, but I’m more than willing to get into a bound situation, as either the binder or the bindee. It’s all about variety, n’est ce pas?

I’ll definitely be writing on things of those calibre. Tackling those tough dilemmas, like, to shave or not to shave.

I may even post recipes from my aphrodisiac cookbook. No, I’m not kidding. Yes, I do have one. And yes, it does work wonders, but then so does a handjob.

I’m open to receiving questions from y’all, preferably via email so I get the element of surprise when I post the question. I’d laugh my ass off if you sent in whack questions that are completely bullshit, and I’d still answer them. You’re creative, do something with it.

* * *

BUT... I really don’t want to pigeon-hole this site into “just sex.” It seems shallow, at first blush.

Then again, it seems to me that sex is used in everything from video games to burger advertisements. Confining the topic to sex-related might open up a whole interesting subculture of issues to examine.

But there’ll always be oral sex. Sucking, nibbling, chewing, licking. All those lovely verbs that bring a grin to my lips every time my imagination kicks in. “Oral pleasure.” Of all the euphemisms used in sex, that’s the best one. That’s the one that reminds you: It’s about pleasure.

Let’s hope I bring you some. Stick around, and we’ll see where this game of cat-and-mouse will lead. This could be fun.

Again, I invite you to email me as often as you like. In case you forget to make note of it, it’ll always be in the sidebar. I also encourage you to comment. For the time being, anonymous comments are allowed. If they get abused, they’re gone.

And I'd like to thank Digitalicat for his help in fixing a couple tricky problems with the template. Thanks, Digi. You're still all that. ;)