Sex is sweetest when someone else does to your most pleasurable parts what you would love to do yourself, if only you could.
Just thought I might share a little something.
~Virgohippy 
P.S. if anybody asks tell them I was sleeping all night. 
Dear Dean of Student Affairs,
I’d like to apologize for any actions on my part which might have contributed to the explosion of sex and sin in the men’s locker room yesterday. I didn’t mean to assist in inciting an orgy on a college campus.
When I was taking a shower, after a long, sweaty session of training, and rubbed a sweet smelling lather all over my soapy wet body in front of all those completely smooth swimmers I didn’t mean to become aroused. It wasn’t my intention to accidentally be overwhelmed by the memory of an experienced and married woman who’d forced her way into in my bed a few days before.
I certainly didn’t intend to walk over to my locker, dripping wet, without a towel. It was poor judgment on my part to decide that I didn’t need to cover my body with a soft cotton cloth until I’d made it to my locker.
Looking back now I can see how a slender young man with long dripping wet hair walking completely naked all the way from the showers to a locker with an erect penis might cause an undesirable reaction from other men. When I say this I hope you can understand how I felt when I rubbed my hard, thin body with a baby-blue hand-towel. It just didn’t occur to me that that moment wasn’t the opportune time to fondly recollect a dirty, cheating wife who meant to turn me into her boy toy.
But I can’t claim responsibility for anything which took place that day beyond gently rubbing my hard cock with a feathery soft cloth. I was perfectly willing to keep my gentle pleasure to myself!
It was the sweaty, deep dark skinned young man who hummed a tune to himself while giving off an aroma of grass and musk not but a few lockers down who was fascinated by my throbbing appendage. Surely you can understand the necessity of using the moisture in my mouth as a lubricant after he decided to start touching me. I had no lotion, nor any personal lubricant with me at the time and I had to reciprocate. My mother raised me to be a polite and considerate man. There was nothing I could do but rip down his tights and clean off his salty, sweat covered, dark chocolate, thick curly pubic hair laced cock with my tongue. I couldn’t use my clean, though damp towel - he was covered in dirt and sweat!
And when those skinny swimmers with hairless bodies, shining and slippery like eels, came upon us, practically dancing with glee, they were responsible for their own actions as well. It was they who decided to fondle me and my little pink wonder while I was bowing down and worshiping the dark chocolate dong filling my mouth.
Please understand that by the time the tall, muscular women from the girl’s volleyball team had entranced upon our heated little exchanges of fluids and caresses I was already completely powerless. I had been walled in by a mass of heaving, heavy breathing, musky bodies. I couldn’t escape when so many hands and lips were holding me down, fondling me, and paying such dutiful attention to my red hot hard-on. I was pinned - one of them must have taken a wrestling class on your college campus!
That being said, I do have to admit the presence of pussy certainly did change the nature of my own arousal. When the raven haired woman with a deep commanding voice and a hooked nose incited a riot with the other girls as she tore off her mound hugging short-tights and bore down on me with her dripping wet, black hair covered vagina I became an animal. To be honest, I barely noticed the volleyball coach – that raging, angry bitch of a bull dyke lesbian (please don’t tell her I said that) – as she entered into me from behind with a strap-on.
The rest is all a blur to me, I barely remember it save to say that I am truly sorry that my pretty little pink penis attracted the amours of half the faculty and most of the student body present on campus that day.
I hope you can forgive me for having a hard-on in the men’s locker room. But please, when deciding my punishment, remember that I wouldn’t have received the ardor and adoration of so many people in one, large, male-musk filled room if my daily thoughts hadn’t been corrupted by a lovely, married lady with a voluptuous body and demanding hands.
If anyone needs to be punished it’s the women who’ve corrupted me! I was an innocent, naïve young man until they transformed me into the depraved, lust filled monster whose fate lies in your fair hands.
Please decide justly when you consider my punishment.
Thank you for hearing me,
~Virgohippy
I admit it, I’m a hopeless tease. I can’t help myself. You lovely ladies arouse my curiosity far too much for me to have any sense of rational thought. So much trouble I get into, just for a bit of fun with you. You should be ashamed of yourselves, taking advantage of an excitable young cock like me. 
Anyway… it’s been a long while since my last post. Here’s a little sex story I scribbled down after a stimulating exchange. I don’t know when I’ll find time to give it some decent action but I can’t resist sharing this barely scrawled fantasy.
Maybe I’m asking the universe for inspiration. Should I keep an eye out for any perverted chicks who might take advantage of a defenseless young hippie?
Be warned, this one is all tease!
“You’ve got such a hard cock,” she whispered, proving her point as she tightened her grip on me through my jeans.
“You mean your husband doesn’t get hard?”
“Not like this, no. You’re young… you should appreciate it,” she said, as she continued to flood my body with waves of warmth with the gentle caress of her warm and confident hand over the entire length of my erection.
“Oh, well, you make it pretty easy,” I said while I throbbed in her hands.
She chuckled before she leaned in and further amazed me with the intoxicating sensation of a well experienced woman’s kiss.
“How does your hubby kiss you?” I asked, interrupting her interrogation of the metal barbell which had not too long ago pierced my tongue.
I was curious, I couldn’t help it. I wanted to know how to pleasure this impressive piece of temptation before me in a way that her chosen lover had been learning how to do for longer then I’d been kissing girls.
“Mmm… different. But you’re not like him.”
I paused a moment and wondered if she perceived me as inferior to the man she had been sleeping with for over a decade. But before I could explore my thoughts of insecurity she leaned in close, pressing her soft, slightly rounded belly against my still hard, throbbing cock and audibly breathed me in.
“You smell good,” she assured me, before making it plain how much my aroma aroused her by breathing in more of me, moaning and grinding gently on my ‘young hard cock’.
I was convinced that she was good. For a moment I wondered how she learned to read me so well, to pluck away my insecurity with such a simple gesture before I reminded myself that it would be fair to reciprocate.
“You’re softness feels good on me like this,” I said, grabbing her plump, round buttocks hard with clawed fingers as I pulled her loins onto me.
It didn’t take long for her lips to find my neck, trailing just beyond the edge of stubble along my neck.
“Wait…” I begged.
Tags: experienced woman, married woman, sex story, tease
When a man grabs my ass I have a responsibility to respond. I would consider it an unfair act of discompassion if I didn’t set him straight, establish a healthy male friendship, and be sure to tell him exactly where my boundaries lay.
It doesn’t matter that his unkempt, stubbly beard matches perfectly with his bed-head hair. I’m above that cute “I don’t care how I look” appeal.
If some ambiguously straight young man is startled when I say, “Oh… I wasn’t expecting that” when kneading fingers grope my buttocks while we just so happened to be sharing a hug in parting I owe it to him to say, “it’s okay. You’re fine. I was just a little surprised.”
If I tell him, “you know, can tell me if you like men - it won’t bother me one bit,” it’s because I mean it. I’m not bothered by the notion that some men like the company of other men. I would say it because I don’t want our friendship to be strained by conflicting and confusing emotions, and that an immediate and empathic confrontation is the best course of action if something like that happened.
And if he were to respond with a vague remark about still needing to understand the universe? I might ask him, “You mean you haven’t explored that side of your sexuality yet?”
“I was trying to be more subtle then that – but yeah… did you just read my mind? Can you read minds?”
I would tell him, the dear heart, I can’t read minds. But I have a responsibility, as a compassionate human being, to welcome him back into my home, in my room, sit him down on my bed and have a very serious and stern conversation with him, to prevent any further confusion.
To initiate the process I might ask him, “do you want to kiss me?”
I wouldn’t ask for my sake – surely I wouldn’t take any pleasure in such an intimate and innocent act with another human being. It would be inconceivable to hold in my mind the vivid image of his often sheepish smile, and remember how fun and expressive he could be as he danced for me in private not but moments before I made a decision to help this fledgling explore realms of pleasure.
No, if I were to press my warm body to his and gently lay him down before giving him his first understanding of yang-yang energies, melded together in heated harmony, it would be purely for his benefit.
If I touched him, grabbed him, held his rock hard pulse in my hands… in my lips… my own pleasure would be of little importance.
Even knowing that his timid touch of another man’s tenderness is his first wouldn’t arouse me. My curiosity would not be inspired. Nor would a welcoming smile spread across my face.
I’m above taking my own personal pleasure during such an important moment in a male-male friendship. I would be a servant to this beautiful young man, insuring that he knows exactly how he feels towards me, so that neither of us would be plagued by misplaced sexual attractions.
Beautiful, beautiful man – I’d do this for you, so that you can feel comfortable having a completely heterosexual, man to man, male friendship with me.
Now please, lay back and let me not take pleasure as you squirm and purr. Don’t marvel at my skillful, silent linguistics. Don’t ask me how many times I’ve had friendships as deep as this with other men before because it’s just not important.
Oh, and one more thing… please… don’t ask me why I might smile, or swoon, or blush at the mere sight of you. The thought that I might enjoy further intimate acts with you would not be the reason why I would react to your presence in that way.
Pleasant erotic dreamings,
~Virgohippy
In response to my recent rant Netflix Needs Porn Movies! Simon, the owner of the XLog, suggested to me an awesome service called the Wanted List. (link opens in new window)
Seems I’m not alone in my quest for a single, convenient service which can cater to my insatiable desire to see erotic films. It’s everything I expect from a Netflix like video rental outlet, especially: a wide selection of porn films. The Wanted List is all about pornographic movies from every studio I’ve ever heard of, and many which I haven’t!
Check out some of these interesting looking titles already in my wanted list:
A startling expose’ of today’s “Youth Culture”, torn from today’s headlines! Far-out freaks on a wild search for kinky “kick”! Sex-crazed scenesters who call themselves THE LUV GENERATION!
My first response: NFW! OMFG!! 
(No Fucking Way! Oh My Fucking Goddess!!)
One person commented, “you really have to like this kind of stuff to appreciate. Had a gay scene, which was unexpected.”
This is #1 on my list of movies to watch. But only because I need to make sure they’ve got it right - they are talking about my generation. 
I recently got a Netflix subscription, and I must say I’m very pleased. I immediately rented my three favorite movies and got them in two days. Already my list of future arrivals is longer then my list of recent outdoor sex sessions - they just kept reading my mind, showing me exactly what I wanted to see. It wasn’t until I had watched more then a handful of flicks in a little over a week that I got a sudden burst of inspiration. 
I’m sure you know where I’m going with this:
Sadly, I was sorely disappointed when all I could find was sex documentaries and commentaries on the social effects and history of pornography. So it was with a heavy heart that I added them to my list, downtrodden by the failure of my newest personal fad because of “family values” run amok. 
Remember the days when good, old-fashioned home grown, mom and pop video rental stores used to have all kinds of obscure titles? Remember the closeted sections in the back? That secret vault of sin hidden behind the shaded door? I sure as hell do!
Like many small businesses today, those small houses filled with lots of interesting wonders have been squashed out by big corporations with deep pockets and a “catch all” blind understanding of the consumer’s wants and needs.
Now it seems the only redemption for us true appreciators of high quality porn movies is the internet. Not that I mind having such a wide variety of high quality porn movies websites - my personal favorite is Upper Class Video - I just miss knowing who to turn to for advice on quality porn video viewing!
Okay, I’m rambling a bit here, but the bottom line is this: with companies like Blockbuster editing our movies to meet conservative values - values which don’t help me live my live any better - we need a company that can cater to an adult audience, an audience who’s not afraid of sex, an audience who likes to rent erotic DVDs!
Blockbuster, you are not the company for me! 
Netflix, I love you, your video rating/suggestion system is wicked awesome, and you can read my mind better then any lover I’ve ever had, but shit, man, you’ve already got my credit card number! You know I’m a legal fucking adult! Can’t you hear the needy whispers in my mind? Do you not understand that I’m telling you I want porn!
Give me porn movies!
If you don’t give me what I want… well… I’ll still love you anyway.
Grr… 
I guess I’ll just have to continue to enjoy porn on my computer… 
I really shouldn’t go on rants about porn like this. 
Pleasant erotic dreamings,
~Virgohippy
Follow Up: DVD Rentals for Us Adults
Tags: movies, porn, porn movies, videosI’d like to share with you how I’ve learned to achieve more powerful orgasms with a few masturbation techniques and a Fleshlight.
Sounds tempting, eh?
I haven’t posted lately, and at the request of a few lovelies, I figured I’d illuminate a bit about one of my favorite subjects after I give my poor excuse for not posting.
As is a common Virgo habit, I’ve given myself too much work this winter break - I’m hoping to get a lot done before school starts up again but in the meantime I’ve had little time for fun… well, except for exploring masturbation techniques and enjoying the necessary orgasms I experience with my Fleshlight. But once the semester starts I should have interesting thoughts and experiences to share. With school comes social networking and with social networking cums… you get the idea, I’m sure.
Before I begin, if you don’t know what the Fleshlight craze is all about Click Here. (Link opens in a new window) When you’ve got a basic understanding, come back here and I’ll reveal a few nifty masturbation techniques.
Do you have any idea how hard it is to get in a full session of self-appreciation when family is around every bend? I’m not talking about quick masturbation, devoid of all the rich pleasures that foreplay enhances, that’s easy enough to get in daily showers before anyone else is awake. I’m talking about languid episodes of slow waxing arousal, rich with vivid fantasies, gentle caresses, and throaty moans unconsciously coupled to the deepest orgasm sensations.
Under normal circumstances, I pride myself on my ability to experience earth shattering convulsions of pleasure multiple times a day with tantric infused masturbation techniques. It’s easy with my careful conservation of youthful vigor through exercise and wholesome foods. But what good is the ability to give myself many powerful orgasms if I’m unable to do it!
Over the past few weeks I almost feel as though I’ve been in a constant state of torture! If I wasn’t with so many loved ones, it might have been torture. With the constant buzzing about to and from various family members’ houses during this past holiday season - if it wasn’t my parents, then it was the grandparents’, or the other grandparents’, or the uncle’s, or the aunt’s (OI) - it’s been difficult for this otherwise ravenous hippy to experience enough orgasms.
I won’t even get into how hard it was not to flirt like crazy with all the young, beautiful women who regularly enter into my family members’ lives under the auspices of being a “family friends.”
Although, I have to admit, a bit of half-serious flirtation really does wonders to help make people feel welcome… did I say half? Maybe seven eighths would have been better.
Anyway… now that I’m home my pretty little pecker and I have been quite the busy little pair. Seems my Fleshlight hasn’t spent a dry moment yet. (Pst - I strongly suggest the pink lady with the wonder wave texture - she’s a real treat. ) Maybe I should share some of my masturbation techniques that I’ve discovered with my soft, squishy, insatiable little pink orgasm delight? 
And now that my rant is over, I’d like to apologize for my absence lately, my lovelies. But, believe me, I have been punished. If you don’t feel so then you try going for weeks on end with an orgasm deficit!
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a lot of catching up to do. I’ve been neglecting my friends’ erotic blogs too. Maybe to make amends for my lack of posting during the holiday season I should sift out the finest posts on my friends’ blogs and present them for you… just in case you’ve been as busy as me lately.
Pleasant erotic dreamings,
~Virgohippy
I have a confession for you.
My neck is sore, and not from studying! Last night I got tied up and tossed around like a rag doll by a cute little Asian woman with very skillful hands. Over and again, I aimed blows at her face with my battle hardened fists, yet I couldn’t land one. She’d dodge my quick strikes, wrap herself around me, and drop me face first onto the floor. And, as if my attempts to break her body with the force of my own wasn’t enough, she’d encircle her arms around my neck, causing asphyxiation, like a python squeezing the life from its prey before a feast.
Don’t think I’m complaining. I enjoyed every moment. Even though I hurt now, it was worth it.
Its finals week for this California, college hippie, and during hectic times like these I relish in consensual, aggressive fun with people I trust. And pleasurable pain through practicing martial arts is my chosen way to release tensions.
I’m sure this is one more reason why my friends often describe me as a tad bit “unusual” but I enjoy the abuse. There’s a certain intimacy that develops between people who knowingly give and receive pain to one another in a way that’s both respectful and desired. We can tie each other up with our limbs, force each other into submissive postures, wail on muscle hardened flesh and otherwise do things to each other we couldn’t get away with on the streets - and all with the feeling that we’re helping one another.
I especially enjoy aggressive play with this sexy and petite Asian chick. When she wraps her arms around me, presses her petite breasts into my back and squeezes my neck between her arms until I’m forced into submission, I often get aroused. I can’t help it. It’s an exhilarating feeling to be in such a vulnerable position, yet still trust her with my life. Even though we’re fighting, and so I’m supposed to resist until I’ve been beaten, I enjoy getting lost in the moment by giving up complete control of my breath to this skillful young woman.
It’s not all fun though. I do have one problem with this often arousing relationship - this misleadingly small bodied woman, with iron hands and a vice-like grip, is an outspoken lesbian. And her often aggressive reactions to my flirtatious personality don’t help my awkward attraction.
Even though she’s not a character in my recent, and just slightly exaggerated, little piece of auto-biographical eroticism, my lesbian bitch sex story, she is the reason I felt compelled to share. It was because of her forceful hands, which are skillfully adept at giving me pleasurable pain, that I was inspired by nostalgic feelings.
While discussing my recent lesbian bitch sex story with Simon, owner of The XLog, an adult blog I like to frequent, I mentioned my appreciation for asphyxiation. The dark lord of fetish sex agreed that my not-so-innocent little kink is an especially flavorful one, and being the connoisseur of painful pleasures, he turned me onto an article about erotic asphyxiation.
If you didn’t catch the link before, and you’re considering breathe play, Click Here to read more about safer practices when performing erotic asphyxiation. This is not a request. Erotic asphyxiation should not be done without a few guidelines.
For those of you who already know the pleasures of breathe control play, here’s a tasty little treat for you: some pics of a boss lady rough handling her submissive gal.
Also, if you wonder why I describe Simon as the Dark Lord of Fetish Sex, it’s because he always seems to know about every kind of kink you can find at places like The Fetish Club.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to rub a peppermint aroma, herbal balm into my neck before I scamper off to bed, perform another kind of relieving rub, and fantasize about an angry lesbian bitch.
Pleasant erotic dreamings,
~Virgohippy
I’m working on a sex story. I thought I’d share it with you, my lovelies. Though it may seem purely an erotic fantasy spurned on by imaginative desire it is inspired by a true story.
Will you read it for me?
She always wore a black leather jacket, tight pants, and a hard ass expression on her face that could make a seasoned war veteran cringe. She was one of those bull dyke lesbian chicks, complete with short cropped hair, a nose and brow piercing, a thin metal chain dangling about her wide goddess hips, and an attitude towards men that screamed, “Don’t even think about it, bitch.” She was completely hands off to anyone with a penis. But I didn’t care. I lusted after her something fierce, all the same.
I’d try to hide my unrelenting desire to ravish her naked body in plain site by flirting with her like I would everything that walked on two legs. Which basically meant I’d push things as far as I could get away with… then I’d push just a tiny bit more.
Don’t get me wrong, I always believed her when she said she was exclusive to pussy… I’d seen her kiss and grope other girls with a genuine passion too many times not to. She just didn’t seem to mind my outrageous and superficial advances.
“What are you doing?” she mocked, almost indicating a shock response as my dexterous hands quickly wrapped themselves around her plump breasts.
“Oh, don’t mind me. I seem to have lost my boobs, and I noticed yours look very familiar. They’re just so beautiful I had to make sure they weren’t mine.”
“Uh… I’m pretty fucking sure…”
“Shh… I’m concentrating,” I whispered, eyes closed, while my thumb and index fingers searched for her nipples – which became much easier when they decided to peak through her shirt, nice and erect.
“Oh, no… these aren’t mine. When your erect nipples come to attention they’re far more pretty then mine. Sorry for the mix up.” I smiled sweet, pulled my hands away, and patted her on the butt.
“Thank you?” she said, with one poignantly thin eye-brow raised.
“Any time,” I said, before I winked at her, and continued to talk about whatever non-sense was on my mind at the time.
They really were beautiful breasts. I can’t think of a more delicious pair of big juggies then the busty fun bags on my hardcore bull dyke. Especially when she wore low-cut white under-shirts, without a bra, that let her bosom practically fall out. Her’s were breasts worth fantasizing about – worthy of lazy afternoons filled with lotion covered hands and an active erotic imagination. But then, the forbidden fruit always does seem tastier then what’s in the picnic basket, eh?
Tags: bitch, desire, dyke, erotic fantasy, lesbian, oral sex, orgasm, sex story
