Archive for July, 2012

Happy Underwear Part 2

Posted in The Usual Dirties with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 30, 2012 by Succubus a.k.a. Eve Incognito

I stayed in the restroom for a few moments, acclimating to the sensation of my new, happy underwear. Once I felt I could function sufficiently without the new addition causing an unbearable arousal, I stepped out of the restroom and into the hall. Not surprisingly, Mr. Cocky happened to be standing there waiting. “How do they feel?” he asked. But before I could utter an answer, the intense feeling of vibrations began, causing me to jolt, as a quiver went through my body. I let out an uncontrollable, stunted airy breath. I witnessed a grown man’s face light up as would that of a 5 year old child at Christmas; he was elated. “Oh…my…GOD!” he exclaimed under his breath. I was amazed by the ferocity of the little device; with a flick of the tiny switch, my body lost control. Control…not something I was going to be able to have, at least not of the remote. I did, however, need to maintain myself at work; God knows the last thing I wanted to do what to have colleagues witness me having orgasms. “Why even keep them on if you knew THIS was going to be your reaction to the happy underwear?” one may ask. It was a test in self control and an examination into the ‘philosophy’ (if you will) behind pleasure delay. Now granted, the pleasure itself was not being delayed, but I liked the idea of testing just how far I could allow myself to be tickled while having to wait until the breaking point where I couldn’t take anymore and needed to cum. Mr. Cocky flipped on the switch again and in a matter of seconds, I felt the vibrations on my clit and a twitching throughout my body. In some false sense of control I told him that we needed to establish ground rules. He was hesitant at first, but nonetheless he reluctantly agreed to adhere to some regulation. “If I’m talking with the big boss, no tickling.” With a pathetic look of discontent, he nodded in agreement. “If I’m in the middle of eating or drinking anything that may lead to me potentially choking, no tickling”; he laughed a little and again, nodded in agreement. “Anything else?” he asked. “Not at the moment” I said with a grin; I didn’t want to suffocate the idea behind the whole thing with too many ‘rules’.

By this time it was about 9:00 a.m. and we walked into the office. I sat down at my desk; he sat down at his, about two rows away, facing me. He had an intense stare, a deep stare that burned with desire, a craving to see me turned on and squirming; his stare was impassioned and blazing and I wondered if his dick was hard, even if just a little. This was a stare that a person gets or gives right before, and while fucking….and I stared back. As if involved with an intense game of cards with everything on the line, we shared with one another our poker faces. Vibrations-the happy underwear turned on and in an attempt to maintain my poker face and disposition, I internally gasped for air, my breath taken from me. I held his stare-he must have seen me wince because one of his eyebrows perked up and a smirk washed over his face. He let the undies vibrate for a bit longer, and then turned them off. I let out a sigh of relief and yet, I was not relieved at all; I was hard up-I liked the clit tickle….I WANTED the clit tickle, but I also wanted to cum as well…but not yet. I wanted to hold out. My inter-office IM popped up: “Goddamn, to see you like that…it is SO hot!” I couldn’t help the smile that came over my face. “You like having control of this, don’t you?” I egged on. He nodded affirmatively and right at that moment, my happy underwear came on again. This time, he left it on a little longer—it felt amazing. My eyelids fluttered a bit and I couldn’t stop my head from falling back…and then it went off. IM message: “Fuck I want you! You look like you’re fucking right now and it is so sexy!” I collected myself and IM-ed him back: “Do you think anyone else can see that? Or is it our little secret?” I looked up at him; both of us gave the other a horny stare—his stare, however, told me that he was already fucking me in his mind. He bit his lower lip and shook his head. IM message: “Nah, this is MY show and I’m lovin’ every minute of it…damn.”

I prepared myself for the next round of pleasure, but surprisingly, it didn’t come. I looked up and noticed that his hand was not in his pocket with the remote, but in fact, both hands were on his keyboard and he actually working. Although disappointed, I came to the realization that I was at work, and I DID need to get something done, so I went about it. Some time had passed and I genuinely forgot that I had happy underwear on…that was, until one of my bosses, my boss’s boss and three other gentlemen came into the room. “‘Eve’, we need to have a meeting about [blablabla]; join us in the conference room” as they all continued to walk passed. I stood up to join the meeting and was immediately reminded that I had happy underwear on. “Oh, shit!” I internalized, “I hope he doesn’t…” I looked over at him, but he was immersed in whatever it was he was doing. With some bit of relief, I figured he’d be wrapped up in that thing for the time I was in a meeting, so I wouldn’t have to worry. OR, perhaps he would eventually notice I was not at my desk and he’ll use that remote in his pocket for some type of ‘beckoning’ device. I mean, it’s not like he SAW the bosses come in, nor was he seeing us all go into a meeting in the conference room, so the rule about no tickling while talking with the big boss would be moot. In a moment of defeat, I realized there was really nothing I could do at this point, so I walked into the conference room and joined the meeting. Time went on and my happy underwear lie hibernating; I felt secure. Then, as if invoking a subliminal dare to Mr. Cocky, my happy underwear came back to life.

Be sexy, Bitches. Eve~


Happy Underwear

Posted in The Usual Dirties with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 27, 2012 by Succubus a.k.a. Eve Incognito

Vibrator underwear: a decent-size, egg-shape device slides into a rubbery ‘pocket’ in the crotch area of (what mine were) pleather thong underwear…not the usual thong underwear—these had reinforced ‘butt elastics’ to secure the power-panties on the wearer; the mechanism that controls the vibration-a handheld, wireless device about the size of a car key….a gift from a co-worker. “Where the hell does she work?!?” one may ask. Well, if you are somewhat familiar with me and/or my profile, you’ll know that I work in a somewhat professional, office environment. And the plot thickens.

To delve into the back story would be far too much at the moment, but I will give a quick chronicle. Mr. Cocky and I did not get along; similar personalities rarely do right up front. (This may sound like my situation with K, but believe it or not, this is ANOTHER co-worker) When I first started working here, we didn’t talk much, and when we did, it was casual and less-than friendly. There was some unspoken competition (for lack of a better word) between us. One day, in the midst of a discussion among many, Mr. Cocky said something about me not being his type, so I’d never have to worry about him hitting on me, to which I wittily responded, “Oh, don’t worry. You wouldn’t have a chance anyways.” He did not appreciate my wit apparently, because he spoke to me less and less for several weeks. One day, Mr. Cocky walked up to me in the hall and asked me quite blatantly, what my ‘deal’ was. Ah, the sweet sound of success-I had gotten to him. Let the mind fuck begin. I digress from a longer-than-I have-time-for story…after this and a few other conversations, Mr. Cocky and I came to realize that we were quite similar; we were both living as someone on the surface and someone else at the core.

It began with some online, inter-office chatting—small talk that turned into innuendos; innuendos that turned into starkness. I noticed that my late days were being accompanied by Mr. Cocky; his had started being late days, too. Nothing really happened in the office—not to say he didn’t suggest it. Yes, there was a time or two that involved some small petting, or a stolen, quick, violent grab here or there; but to be perfectly honest, it’s too cliché—office sex…you see this too frequently, and we both seemed to agree on that. “But what you DON’T see or hear about too much in ‘our circles’ is vibrator underwear”, Mr. Cocky once said with a sly, wicked little smirk. After that comment, he nodded his head up and down, as though he had just confirmed to himself the perfect idea. The next day, as I walked into the building, I saw Mr. Cocky walking through the hall; he had a grin on his face. “I got you a gift last night”, he said with a wink. “Are you serious?” I asked, already knowing what he was referring to. “Let’s run out to my car”, he said. There were no words exchanged on the walk out to his car. When we got to it, he opened the passenger door to, what was actually, an appointed gift bag. [I’m currently making a face and shaking my head—I still cannot believe he decorated this as a for-real gift.] “So, here’s what I was thinking: You go put these on, and let’s see how the day goes” Mr. Cocky nonchalantly said. Easy enough; as some of you know, I don’t have a problem masturbating at work; this is simply going to streamline that process. “Sure. I can do that” I asserted casually, not even blinking at the thought of rising to this kind of challenge.  “So, where’s the remote” I pried, eager to get my hand on it ;-). “Oh, the remote…..yeah….well see….that’s in my pocket”, he said with an air of playful confidence. “It wouldn’t be as fun if YOU had control”. Damn—this guy found a weakness—I like control and now he wants it…and he had it! The power and management of my happy clit day sat at the bottom of a pocket in the gorgeous, well-fitting slacks of Mr. Cocky.

I’ll be honest; I was a bit anxious at this idea. “See, I get to see you squirm whenever I please and you can do nothing about it. Doesn’t matter who’s around, where you’re at, what you’re doing—as long as the frequency reaches, I can have my way…just a toggle on this switch (as he held up the remote to show me)-and I control you.” All this and it wasn’t even 8 a.m. yet! He dropped the remote back in his pocket, and I grabbed the gift bag that held the vibrator underwear; we walked back in. Once in the building, and again with no words exchanged, he went in one direction, and I went in the other, to the restroom. I slid off the thong underwear I was already wearing and stepped into my new vibrator thong underwear. The egg-shaped toy, encased in a protective rubber shell, sat directly at my clit, and even without the device vibrating, I could feel the sensation of an impending orgasm…several.

Stay Sexy, Eve.

For Post-Happy Underwear

Posted in The Usual Dirties with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 27, 2012 by Succubus a.k.a. Eve Incognito

YouTube upload by cuttingnycdotcom on May 13, 2010

It’s like Twinkle, Twinkle, but not.

Posted in The Usual Dirties on July 18, 2012 by Succubus a.k.a. Eve Incognito


Tickle, tickle little spot  

Helps to stimulate when I’m not

And in the absence of girl or guy,

I tickle my spot to get me by.

Tickle, tickle little spot

Helps to stimulate when I’m not.


Posted in The Usual Dirties with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 17, 2012 by Succubus a.k.a. Eve Incognito

I couldn’t tell you what happened before; nor could I tell you what exactly happened after, and that’s how this tale will end. I CAN tell you that at one point, there were four of us: my boyfriend, his buddy, his buddy’s girl, and I; boyfriend and I were house sitting, and we invited the friends over.  It was a lavish home, set on the side of a mountain, overlooking the city, four dispersed levels, all adorned in antique rugs and India-inspired decorating.  The home was enormous and easy enough to get lost in. On the main level was a kitchen, a sitting area, the pool table and it stepped outside to a large hot tub that overlooked the city. Lower level one was a very large bedroom—one of the guest rooms-it stepped out to the pool area. Upper level one was another guest room-it stepped out to the parking area. Lower level two, I didn’t visit. And that was all just main house one. Point being, it was a large dwelling; one could easily get misplaced.

We were indulging in drinks and playing pool, our inhibitions gradually slipping away. This was not an issue-we all knew each other well enough and had spent lots of time together; we’d drank together before. As it tends to happen, the more we all drank, the less restricted we were about what was said or done. Buddy’s girlfriend became more friendly toward me, meaning, she hugged more, we shared drinks, she pretended to make out with me…the boys enjoyed the show. As time passed, buddy got a bit more comfortable around me and whispered things in my ear, while boyfriend and buddy’s girlfriend continued to play pool. I stole a fleeting look over to boyfriend and buddy’s girlfriend—they were being flirtatious, yet, I didn’t seem to mind—alcohol freed me of such concerns. Apparently, alcohol had freed boyfriend of such concerns as well, as I watched him grab the waist of buddy’s girlfriend. For a second, I think I felt jealous, or maybe that’s what I thought I was supposed to feel. Boyfriend looked up at me, with a look that seemed uneasy; I wondered if he would continue to do whatever it was he was going to do with buddy’s girlfriend, even though he knew I was looking. He did not.

Boyfriend, buddy and buddy’s girlfriend resumed the pool game we had listlessly and carelessly been playing; I grabbed my drink and walked away-down one level to the guestroom that stepped out to the pool area. I don’t know what my point was to doing so—I was in a daze. I could hear the cue ball striking against other balls and the faint sound of voices. I was going to step outside by got sidetracked by the collection of books and magazines in the room. I began thumbing through one or two—again, not certain of my point to doing so. Yet again, I heard the cue ball striking other balls and more talking…some laughing; it all resonated in the far depth of my ear. I thought hard about getting back to the group—I wanted to rejoin the fun—I needed another drink, but I couldn’t quite get my feet to agree with my mind in order to walk back up the stairs. In my inebriated state of confusion, I thought I heard footsteps coming down the stairs but seconds later, I didn’t see anyone in the room and assumed I was simply hearing footsteps from the level above. But then a few seconds later, buddy appeared. “Coming back up”, he asked me. I nodded-I had every intent to do so, but I just couldn’t find the motivation. “Well, if not, I brought you a drink”, he said. I took it from him and thanked him; he started talking to me about something—I don’t really remember, so I sat on the bed, as did he, and we talked.

After awhile, I heard giggling coming from the main level. As if I had forgotten that boyfriend and buddy’s girlfriend were even there, I got up, curious of the noise. I walked up the stairs, followed by buddy. There, lying back onto the pool table was buddy’s girlfriend, her shirt off, her bra off, and my boyfriend kissing on her stomach. I felt buddy trying to push by me, as though he were going to stop it. I grabbed his arm—“Leave it. Just watch”, I whispered. Buddy and I stood there, watching buddy’s girlfriend and my boyfriend making out on the pool table. She sat up and as she did, boyfriend grabbed both her tits; she moaned. She sat at the edge of the pool table and boyfriend took her jeans and panties off. I looked back at buddy to see what his reaction was; he seemed confused (and of course, a little drunk). I rubbed his arm gently and told him not to worry and just watch. Buddy and I watched as my boyfriend went down on her; she groaned and her back arched. I expected that they’d be fucking soon. We stood there and continued to watch. After awhile, I looked back at buddy; I could see through his pants that he was aroused. I reached a hand back and began rubbing his dick through his pants—I looked back at him to see his reaction-his eyes were closed and he was breathing heavily. I rubbed it more aggressively and he let out a moan, which caused his girlfriend to look over (my boyfriend’s face still in between her legs). She looked around for where the sound came from but she couldn’t seem to spot us.

At that point, buddy grabbed my arm and walked us down the stairs, back into the guestroom. He grabbed the bottom of my shirt and pulled it up over my head and threw it onto the floor; I wasn’t wearing a bra. He sat me down on the bed, knelt down in front of me, and grabbed and started sucking on my tits. I let my head fall back as he aggressively played with them. I lay back on the bed and he climbed on top of me; our pants were still on, but I could feel his cock as he rubbed up on my pussy and we began to kiss. I’m not sure how long this went on, or how much time had passed, but it seemed to be awhile. He sat up, and started to take off my pants. As he was doing this, I heard a noise which caused me to look toward the stairs. There at the stairs stood his girlfriend, watching us (and clothed again); it was a strange turn of events. He looked up at what I was looking at, but didn’t say anything—he kept going.

I sat up, got off the bed and walked to her; buddy, her boyfriend just stood there, next to the bed. I grabbed her hand, walked her to the bed, and sat her down. I stood in front of her, my tits in her face—she grabbed them and started sucking on one and I moaned a faint, ‘Yes’. I undressed her. She finished undoing my pants and took them off, along with my panties—she started rubbing my clit. I looked over to her boyfriend who was intently watching, his hand down his pants rubbing his cock. I climbed on top of her and started kissing her; she lay back on the bed. I rubbed my body up and down her body. Moments later, I felt someone standing behind me—her boyfriend; he was naked. But at that point, he wasn’t her boyfriend, she wasn’t the girlfriend…my boyfriend wasn’t my boyfriend (wherever he was at that time)—we were just…animals.

I continued to rub against her and make out with her; he stuck his cock in me, matching my rhythm as I rubbed against her. She kept moaning and it made me hornier so my pussy got wetter; he kept fucking me while I made out with her. After awhile, I lay next to her on the bed, side by side. Her hand reached over and was rubbing my clit; I reached my hand over and rubbed on hers. Buddy climbed on top of me and put his dick in and fucked me for a bit. Then he climbed over to her and stuck his dick in and fucked her for a bit. We were animals fucking. Fucking. At that point, I couldn’t tell you what happened before; nor could I tell you what exactly happened after.

Stay Sexy, Bitches. Eve

Quick question: Any boys reading my blog? Thoughts?

The Bad Touch–For Post: Swap

Posted in The Usual Dirties with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 17, 2012 by Succubus a.k.a. Eve Incognito

For the post: Swap

Wanted: A Good Mistake

Posted in The Usual Dirties with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 16, 2012 by Succubus a.k.a. Eve Incognito

I need a good mistake. It’s been too long since I’ve had one. That was a bonus to traveling for work; I could enjoy a good mistake without the repercussion of running into said mistake around town. If I could post an ad for something like this, I think I would; if society wasn’t how it is, and I didn’t have to worry about the creepy-crawly individuals coming out of the woodwork to answer an ad, my ad would read like this:

Young, attractive, T&A female, currently blonde, seeks no-strings-attached, good mistake. Must be able to control a situation but also be able to lose control. Must be firm, literally and figuratively. Want someone who is willing to pin me, tie, me, take advantage, without adding in the ‘killer’ or ‘stalker’ aspect. Seeking man, ages 30-45, looks and feels young (literally and figuratively) who wants a no-strings- attached, intelligent, ambitious, and sexually driven woman who will take control, or can be controlled. Want someone who knows he’s sexy, but doesn’t need to flaunt it. Looking for someone who knows the rules of this type of situation, without needing them explained. Looking for a tease with good timing.

There are so many other things that could go into that ad. But how does one say that she wants him to look like a blend of this guy and that, with a dick like this guy, with a personality of that other guy and the body of that other, other guy? How can one articulate the desire to meet in a public place, perhaps a romp in the bathroom, or elevator, and after a lot of teasing and drinks, go back to his place to explode in one another?

I’d like to arbitrarily run into a sexy stranger somewhere who knows ‘the look’, who sees me giving it to him, and follows me as I head to the restroom…follows me in and locks the door behind us. The stranger who knows ‘the look’ would push me up against a wall and rub his body up against me, sliding up and down my body as I feel his hard-on grow bigger. I like the idea of this good mistake being a little rough with me, and domineering….he’s domineering and knows what he wants and knows what I want and he takes it.

I need a good mistake like the good mistake from some of my travels. We ran into each other a handful of times. His body was near perfect, though he didn’t like to flaunt it—only when we’d meet up—he’d prance around in his boxer briefs, no shirt on, running his fingers through his dirty blonde hair. He knew the look and recognized it when I gave it to him across the crowded room the very first time we saw one another. Baseball, or maybe Football or Rugby player was what I assumed, based on his body and where he wore his muscles. He and I, along with about 100 or so more people endured 9 grueling hours of meetings and PowerPoint overkill; throughout this meeting, he and I passed many a glimpse at one another, and at the end of the 9 hours, I took the opportunity to introduce myself. I told him that I had been admiring his clothing ensemble—he was pulled straight from a Ralph Lauren ad. He asked if I wanted to meet him and some colleagues for a round of drinks later that evening; I was happy to oblige. To my surprise and yet, somehow not, it was just him, sitting at the bar with a beer—his casual dress down was a rugby shirt and khakis (non-sequitur but I found this to be a bit odd). We chatted, slowly at first because neither wanted to cross an uninviting line. I asked about his interests, he asked about mine; to his surprise, I asked if his sport was rugby, baseball, or football, and he proudly said it was rugby. I mentioned that I had tried playing rugby at one time and it was a complete fail. We did this, back and forth for at least a couple of hours. At some point, he asked what my favorite movie was to which I paused….he waited….I said, “what would you think of me if I said it tied between,’ A Clockwork Orange’ and ‘Requiem for a Dream’?” His face gave away a combination of thought, some of intrigue, some of confusion, some of curiosity, lots of primal desire…all of which I was willing to satisfy. He set down his drink and looked like he needed to say something. Assuming I knew what it might be, I shared, “It is what it is, and that’s it; behind the door is one thing, outside the door is everything else. Was that what you were going to ask?” He nodded but then his face twisted in a bit of confusion, “Just like that—that’s it, no…..I mean…just like that?” I let him know that I lead separate lives, and if he felt he was unable to adhere to this, we could let the moment pass. Of course, I knew this wouldn’t be the case. **Let me side bar here for a moment: I would like to think I have something of a screening process—I am actually quite selective when it comes to these ‘good mistakes’; ask any of them. Additionally, in most cases, I take my time with matters like this (ask K….or as you all know him, the guy from, ‘I Hate you, Let’s Fuck). I am not one to throw it out there and see what happens; I am cautious and I am incredibly meticulous when it comes to things of this nature. During the conversation with Rugby, I can tell you honestly that I was taking inventory and analyzing what I thought his capacity was for the ‘deal on the table’, if you will.**Back to the story—He was in; he wasn’t going to pass on the opportunity to have this type of arrangement. Furthermore, it was a benefit to us both, seeing as how our business travels led us to the same places frequently. Now that we had had a brief conversation about this thing, whatever it was going to be, Rugby asked me what our next steps were. I was a bit concerned because, as mentioned in my faux ad, I didn’t want to have to explain the rules to something like this; I was afraid he wasn’t as ‘educated’ at this as I had given him credit for. I simply asked, “Your room or mine?” to which he responded, “Yours”. I gave him the room number and we separately proceeded to my room. Moments after I got into my room, there was a light tapping on the door. I opened it slightly and he slid into my room. The door closed behind him and to my pleasant surprise, he used his body to shove me up against a wall, his chest and his dick pressing up against me. With one hand, he grabbed my ass, and pulled me up, closer to his ever-enlarging dick; the other hand was playing with the rest of my body. I remember his mouth, breathing heavily on my neck, giving me chills, making my nipples hard-then he aggressive kissed and sucked on my neck. He whispered in my ear, “You want me to fuck you, baby? Beg for it…beg for it…!” In my mind I applauded how collected and cool he seemed at the bar, and how animalistic he was being now. “Yes!” I moaned again and again. He growled, “BEG ME, BABY!” I minded: “Please give it to me….put it in….oooh, baby, I want you inside me!” “Yeah…that’s what I like to hear; good girl” he praised and he picked me up and threw me on the bed. After he threw me on the bed, he climbed on top of me and licked down my stomach until he got to my underwear, at which point, he proceeded to take them in his teeth and rip them off of me; I lost a gorgeous pair of thongs that night but I didn’t mind. Seeing as how he liked to dominate (at least this time) I played coy and asked him what he wanted me to do, as I got up from a laying position and slid down his body toward his hard on. “Yeah, baby…you know what to do…suck that dick” he proclaimed, as I went down on him. He undid his pants and took them off, revealing the tight boxer briefs hugging his beautiful body. I pulled his dick out and went down, sliding my mouth down around his cock. He let out a groan and grabbed the back of my head. “Ahhh…fuuuuck, baby….uuuuh, you’re so good….I bet you taste as good as you feel….is your pussy wet? I want to taste you…” He grabbed my waste and threw me down on the bed again. He told me to bend over, on all fours. “Strange”, I thought, “I thought he was going to eat me out.” And he did, in a very unorthodox way, with me on all fours—he asked if I knew why he did it that way and without my response, he said, “So, I can stick my dick in as soon as I’m done tasting you.” And he did. He would taste me for awhile, then put his dick in…the taste me again, then put his dick in; I wondered when he’d stay inside me. I liked that he kept me guessing. And when he did leave it in, he was harder than he was the time before, and he pushed it deep inside me. He banged so hard, I almost cried out but as if a lesson in self-control and painful pleasure, I kept it to myself and simply moaned in satisfaction. His style was unconventional—the way he ate me out, the way he fucked me and it wasn’t just a one-time thing. Our other encounters were equally as perplexing—the time on the mini-fridge, the time in front of the mirrors…the counter. But alas, those are for another story time.

I need a good mistake.

I missed you, too. Stay sexy, Angels.