This one time...

I had writer’s block this afternoon. Still so much to say and yet, at times, hard to get it out!

So I turned to my favorite man Jack, and asked him what I should write about next. His answer? “Tell the balcony story.”

Ahhh, the balcony story. And while Jack assumes it is a good story, the real reason he wants me to tell it is because he wasn’t there and he doesn’t know exactly what happened. By suggesting it he’s supporting my writing and investigating all at the same time. Sneaky fucker!

At any rate, the story goes, this one time…I fucked Kate on her balcony.

Ok, it has a better start than that. I sometimes work evening/late shifts and by the time I would get home Jack (who goes to work early every morning) and the kids are already asleep. Since my work is close to Kate’s place we’ve come to an agreement that on the nights I work late I will stop by and visit her.

One such evening was a Friday, and a dinner party for mutual female friends of ours was occurring as I arrived. All during my work I’d made a mental plan to be aggressive for once, and not waste any of the time alone I had with Kate.

You see, while Kate and I are grown ass women (who have been in many compromising positions) it is not uncommon for us to get stuck in that transition between friend and lover. My intention was to cut that waste of time short, forgo my shyness, and take control of the situation.

Two glasses of wine, and some goodbye’s to friends later, we found ourselves ushering the last drunk lady out. She inquired, “Hey Jill, I guess I’m headed out. You want to walk with me?” To which I sweetly replied, “Aww, sorry. I’m going to stay for a couple more minutes and help Kate with the dishes.”

If she’d been sober she surely would have seen Kate turn and burst into a grin behind her back. As it was, she said her final goodbye and walked a few blocks down the street to her home.

Alone, finally, with Kate…panic hit my stomach. I forced it down and stuck to my plan.

Kate moved to a side table to blow out some candles and pick up. I walked up behind her and put my arms around her waist. I’m less than an inch taller than she, but in the right shoes can feel a tad of height on her.

I’ve always had this strange fascination with the back of her neck. I suppose beyond the tits I’d consider it the most favorable part of a woman’s body. Kate has a tattoo at the nape of her neck that I adore, and I find myself drawn to these few inches of her body regularly.

Kate’s hair was up, and so standing behind her, I grabbed her close, ran my hand from her hips to her tits, and kissed the back of her neck. In seconds her breath was halting and caught in surprise. She backed her hips up towards me, and moved in rhythm as I pressed back against her.

After minutes of her standing back to me as I groped from her tits to between her legs, I grabbed her shirt and pulled it off over her head. Still not moving from the same table we started next to, I then unbuttoned her pants and slid them down off her legs.

She then turned to face me, in only her bra and panties, and unceremoniously stripped me.

Unclothed and encouraged I stepped into her space, spreading her legs with one of mine, rubbing her nipple with my fingers, and crashing my mouth against hers. We made out furiously for a few moments – each of us glad to have arrived at our time together so quickly.

Soon it became apparent that we needed to move from standing up to a more fuckable position. Given the choice between heading for bed, the couch, and the balcony surrounded  by the cool fall air, I grabbed her hand and brought her outside.

If we hadn’t both indulged in a few glasses of wine before heading outside in the fall air the conditions may have seemed frigid. As it stood, the crispness merely brought another sensation to our bodies. We continued kissing standing up, and then I gently pushed Kate down to sitting on the loveseat.

I climbed on top of her, knowing she would quickly take advantage of my tits being in her face. We sat, me straddling on top of her, enjoying each other’s bodies, warmth, and the proximity of our pussies, for as long as we could stand.

Encouraged by the response so far to my bold approach, I swiftly decided to stand up off Kate’s lap, then kneel down between her legs. I’d many times put my fingers inside of her, and used them to pleasure her to climax…but had yet to use my mouth on her.

And so I sat – between her legs – hesitant for the briefest of seconds.

I glanced up quickly and saw the woman that had come to mean so much to me and Jack, and the person that I had already experienced so many new things with. Without another thought I stroked my hand down the inside of each of her thighs and then softly inserted a finger inside of her.

Kate flexed and wiggled her hips in a positive response. I then spread her pussy lips apart with my fingers and gave her a lick from my finger inside to her clit my tongue trailed. Kate again made a slight thrust approval, and so I continued on my new exploration.

Outside, in the crisp fall air, I performed oral on a woman for the first time ever. I don’t know if I’m lucky that Kate is one hell of a sexual being, or if my own experience at receiving came into play, but I do know that it went fantastically.

With nearly every flit of my tongue and move of my fingers Kate tightened and heightened. As her desire grew she began grabbing at her own breasts, massaging her tits, and encouraging me with a soft, but audible, “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

No longer inhibited by my lack of experience, I gave into my instincts and fucked her with my fingers and mouth as hard as I could. Within minutes she was crying out and shaking from the force of her orgasm.

I withdrew my fingers from her and wiped her juices from my mouth a bit, when suddenly she pulled me up next to her again. We made out passionately…her in relief and enjoyment and myself still wound up with anticipation.

Quickly she moved so that I was lying down on the seat and she began to work with her fingers and tongue between my legs. Already hot from the experience of giving my first head, I could barely stand her tonguing for a minute before coming myself.

We stayed for a moment together, feeling the satisfactory heat between us, before realizing the chilly air was winning. Once inside we headed for the shower together…warm, slippery, and satisfied.

Imagines via Bing

Gossip, Lady Gaga and Madonna, Real Housewives news, woman wants divorce from big penis

It was a  gay men´s wet dream yesterday night at SNL when both Madonna and Lady Gaga were performing in a skit. Is wasn´t very funny but seeing the queen and princess of pop together for the first time is great enough as it is. Lady Gaga also confirmed that her tour with Kanye West will not be canceled but held without him. That´s better period in my opinion.

Some Real Housewives news. First Bethenny Frankel will not stay on the New York Housewives, but will only be on her own spinoff. She apparently also had huge fights with bff Jill Zarin so it might have been forced as well. I never liked Bethenny so I will like the Housewives better and will not watch her spinoff. And Kim Zolciak might have gotten a wedding proposal from her Big Poppa in the last episode of the season. In real time she has already broken up with him and was seen having lunch with Millionaire Matchmaker Patty Stanger, probably looking for a new sugar daddy.

In Taiwan a woman was denied her second request for a divorce from her husband who was too well endowed for her. She has been married to him for 14 years and sex was painful every time for her. The measuring tape did not come out in court because according to them it is all subjective. When both parties want a divorce it is fairly easy in Taiwan but probably the guy wasn´t ready for that yet. I never heard of being to big as a problem, definitely not with asian men.

Prostitute takes 8G from blind lawyer

In America: A blind Delaware County lawyer is hoping for a happy ending after his federal civil suit against a Philadelphia woman and a credit-card company, was thrown out last week.

John F. Peoples, 60, was steamed after he learned that the woman who he says he hired for sex allegedly overbilled his Discover card by $8,600.

So he sued her for damages and the credit-card company for alleged violations of the Americans with Disabilities Act, claiming that it had not sufficiently protected its blind customers.

“This wouldn’t have happened to a sighted person,” Peoples said yesterday, adding that he plans to appeal.

In court documents, the woman named in the suit, Ginger Dayle, said that she had provided Pilates lessons to Peoples and denied that she was a prostitute or that she had defrauded his credit card.

She filed a countersuit claiming that Peoples had inappropriately touched her butt and that he initiated the lawsuit after she rebuffed his sexual advances, according to court documents.

That case also was dismissed.

bron: www.philly.com [2-10-2009]

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The Big Flick by Adam Snavely (Kozy Books, 1961)

Along with Jerry Goff, Max Collier, and John Turner, Adam Snavely is my next “big find,” and he’s at the top of the heap.  I have no idea who he really was, but he did a dozen or so books for Kozy.

Snavely may have been a house pseudonym, as a quick glance at a few titles I have, the writing styles look different.  One of them, Love Drive, credits Snavely on the cover, but on the title page the book is called The Love Slave by Orrie Hitt, also listed that way in the back of book catalogue of a number of Kozy books I have.  I’m not sure yet if Love Drive is Orrie Hitt, haveb’t scrutinized yet, but it’s set in L.A., not Hitt territory.

The Big Flick is also set in L.A. and the film industry.  The protagonist is 20-something Terry Wilson, a young writer with a smash first novel and a collection of stories on th way.  An old college friend, Zip Zachery, has established himself as a hot young producer with a couple of hit indie films under his belt, and has brought his old buddy Wilson to Tinself Town to write his next film.  What that film is is anyone’s guess — there is no script, not even a treatment or idea, as Zachery has rounded investors and studio backing based on the strength of Wilson’s hit novel. He’s also casting small parts for actresses, in exchange for investment from parents and sex from the eager starlets.

Whoever wrote this odd little Hollywood novel wrongly packaged as a sleaze wank book knows the business of filmmaking and the seediness of behind-the-scenes machinations of sex, lies, and double-speak required to get stories on screen.

This is territory I know well myself, having dealt with producers, agents, actors, and other types in Tinsel Town. (See my indie flick, The Watermelon, now distributed on DVD and Blu-Ray; plus I have had published novels and screenplays optioned here and there,won some screenwriting and festival awards, have optioned and pitched TV pilots, had a short documentary screen at Cannes last May, and soon.) There are some scenes and situations in this book that ring true to my experience, and probably just about any other writer whose virgin eyes have been popped when the illusion of Hollywood is shattered like a cheap wine bottle, and the whole tawdriness and ugliness of how things really work is revealed like a drunk, old, and worn stripper in a dark hole-in-the-wall stripper bar.

Why The Big Flick wound up with Kozy is anyone’s guess  — was the author unable to place it with a mainstream house?  It could have been. The sexual stuff is minimal, as the case usually is with some sleazecore books; the core is a well-written yarn of a reclusive literary author’s slow corruption with sex, booze, and drugs as people chase after dreams of the visual image on the silver screen and all the lies fame and fortune Hollywood presents to the neophyte, writer, actress, directors alike.  It is a business truly run by fast-talking “producers” who are two steps away from the label con artist or thief.

Although published decades before Robert Downey, Jr., there is a Downey-like character, a damn fine actor who keeps having to go to detox, running off sets with models and hookers, and just a mess…

Wilson is placed in a hotel room, then an  apartment, to write the script.  He has been assigned a “secretary” who takes care of his any sexual need, but he has his heart set on this actress, Harriett.  Eventually he moves in with her.

Zachery goes over budget and to get more money, he signs a three-film contract with the distributors to do some monster movies. “Find me a lizard!” he cries.

When the movie screens, Wilson thinks it’s horrible but the audiences like it, get gets more writing work, the reviews are good…he doesn’t understand how Hollywood can like the crap the movie came out as, but he takes the money, the actress, and the life…

The Polanski Matter

This may sound heartless, but I can’t seem to dredge up any pity for Roman Polanski. He was arrested recently in Switzerland and placed in jail pending a deportation hearing on a 32-year old warrant because he  failed to appear in court for sentencing on a charge of unlawful sex with a minor, a charge he pled guilty to. Instead, he fled the United States and has been living in Europe since.

Almost immediately after his arrest, the elites of France went berserk, accusing the United States of picking on this poor old seventy-some year old man. Then several of Hollywood’s biggest names jumped in on Polanski’s side.

Meanwhile, it turns out that a lot of ordinary French people and Americans as well have no sympathy for Polanski, either. He should come back and face the music, many argue. He committed a crime, he ought to do the time. After all, isn’t that what the bigwigs have told us for years and years?

So, suddenly, these same believers in the sanctity of the law want this guy who had sex with a 13-year old girl to escape justice because he spent his life after evading it making fine movies that are applauded by the elites of Europe and Hollywood. I wonder how these individuals would feel if Polanski’s 13-year old victim happened to be a daughter of one of them.

What about Polanski’s victim? For all of the years Polanski roamed as free as a bird, she’s been psychologically imprisoned by the vile acts committed by him on her body, damaged by thoughts of this man working over her, performing oral sex and sodomizing her mind and body.

Those who support Polanski argue that the judge was biased against him. If I were the judge I would have been biased against him, too. After all, he pled guilty to those acts.  He deserved prison time then and he deserves it now.

His supporters also contend that the judge violated a plea agreement that would have placed Polanski on probation without jail time. As a matter of law, judges do not negotiate pleas with defendants. The prosecuting attorney and the defense attorney work out an agreement and present it to the judge. The judge can accept or reject it.

Judges reject plea agreements every day somewhere in America. They also accept them. In the Polanski case, we actually don’t know how the judge would have decided since Polanski cut out before decision time. Now, the judge is dead and we will never know.

Every year there are over 3,000,000 (that’s three million) reported instances of child abuse in America. Not every case involves sexual abuse and not all reports are verified. But if only 10 percent of the reports were valid, that would still amount to a horrendous 300,000 incidents annually. That is one hell of a statistic for a country that purports to be a nation of laws, not of men.

For the sake of our children, men like Polanmski need to feel the heat of prison. If only one incipient predator gets the message and decides to drive on by instead of abducting a child on the way to school, then Polanski’s incarceration will at least have served a socially redeeming purpose.

If Roman Polanski were an ordinary citizen, his victim would be just another statistic, lost in a bureaucratic spreadsheet. But the publicity surrounding Polanski ultimately resulted in the self-revelation of her identity. Samantha Gailey Geimer, now 45 years old, has decided that she will no longer permit the incident that happened so many years ago to imprison her mind. A revelation like that takes courage.

If Polanski had her courage, if he were any kind of man, he’d voluntarily return to the United States and take his medicine. Then, his supporters might have something to commend him for.

Self Help Tips

Most of us today aim to better ourselves in many ways. We work harder, we have more quality time with our families, and we try and do more for the community. In the end some of us even find the time to have some “me time”. Improving ourselves is a good type of therapy as well.

Embrace the day
Try not to groan when you have to get up in the morning. Wake up, open those curtains and embrace the morning. Eat breakfast outside …

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