Archive for October, 2012

Come Fly With me Saga-Part 5

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

I’m not sure what the conversation was or how it started, but I remember one of the last things I said to him as I was leaving: “I hope you know I’m going to continue to try to get in your pants”, to which he responded, “I would expect nothing less from you, Eve.” I know he’d said before that the whole student/teacher thing was an issue and he wouldn’t be the one to initiate; I took this at face value because I saw something else from him. After I left, I messaged him:

Me: Okay, question: are you considering the possibilities?

Him: It’s awfully hard not to.

Me: […] I’m attracted to you. I’m sorry that’s uncomfortable. I’m a very forthright person and I’m sorry that’s uncomfortable, too.

Him: It’s alright the feeling is mutual.

Me: […] If not something you’re considering and you want me to leave it alone, I will.

Him: I’m considering it but how’s it going work?

Me: […] Semantics and detail are occasionally reactionary.

Him: I’m in uncharted territory here.

Indeed, he is. I can say with some level of certainty that flight instructor (a.k.a-blue-eyed boy) hasn’t had someone openly admit to him that they’ll continue to try to get in his pants. I’m quite positive he’s not experienced a person like me…at least that’s what my assumption is. And let’s just say that’s case—good, because I like to leave a lasting impression.

After the other day, my drive home, I made the executive decision to take what I want. And I wanted him. One day following my fascinating drive home and my declaration of action, well…..it happened. Oh, I’m sorry…did I pass right over that? Let me reiterate: It happened. We passed several messages between one another that day, which left little to the imagination:

Him: Do you usually get pretty wet?

Me: Yes I do…I’m easily excitable.

Him: 4 play?

Me: OMG- absolutely! Who doesn’t like 4play? And you? Positions? 4 play?

Him: Girl on top grinding against me […] behind her with her legs closed, laying flat on her stomach…

Me: Wet-accomplished. I like grinding against when I can feel it getting hard….bj fan?

Him: Um yes…

Me: um…figured, but doesn’t hurt to ask. Ever gotten one while flying? (Note the reference to my daydream here…always looking for an in [wink wink])

Him: No but I want to […] the hard on I’ve had for the past hour is a little inconvenient…

…and one of my favorites:

Him: I’d rather not pull out if that’s ok with you.

My day wasn’t quite over but, enough of the talk, I headed over to his place.

Stay Sexy, Eve.

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Do you have a couple of minutes? I’m curious.

Posted in The Usual Dirties on October 25, 2012 by Succubus a.k.a. Eve Incognito

Come Fly With Me Saga-Part 4

Posted in The Usual Dirties with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 24, 2012 by Succubus a.k.a. Eve Incognito

I had the blue-eyed boy on my mind the other day while I was driving home from work. I couldn’t stop my mind from thinking dirty, dirty things that I wanted to do to him. Most notably, my mind kept exhibiting flipbook-style images of us in a plane, my mouth around his cock, my lips running up and down his shaft while he tried to keep the plane steady; I could hear his moaning in my mind as though he was sitting there next to me. The images were almost violent and it sent chills up my spine…not just an expression—I get it now. I wonder if he’s had that before—in a plane…flying; I want to be the one. I want to be the reason he can’t sleep because his mind races. I want to be the fixation that he wants more of. I want the taste of me to transport him to a place in time that will forever be occupied by yours truly.

In an attempt to satisfy my urge, I did a web search on my phone for S/M (for those who MAY not know, sadomasochism). I was already terribly turned on and at this point, unable to appease the insatiable need to fuck (preferably him). [We aren’t quite at that point and I’m getting impatient.] At that particular level of arousal, I wouldn’t dare recommend hands-free while driving (reference my post about this); it could actually be dangerous. I continued to watch as the naughty little entertainers on my screen played out any number of things I want to do with blue-eyed boy. I couldn’t wait to get home and release the sexual demon growing inside of me. What could make this better…ah, that’s right…fuck the shit out of blue-eyed boy. My breath shortened and increased and I felt an orgasm coming on—I didn’t want this yet—I wanted it to wait until I was home. The more I wonder about blue-eyed boy—if he’s as innocent as he seems (he IS young and all), if he’s jerked off to me, if he’s a good fuck–the more I want it. In the particular frame of mind I was in, I wanted it hard and mean, fast and violent; I want to scream and hurt but at the same time, I want to make him hurt. A la Fight Club: I wanted to destroy something beautiful. And then I came. Goddamn…the sensation was almost unbearable—had someone been nearby and touched me, I might have cried out. Fortunately, in the comforts of my car, I was safe to scream and moan and wiggle and come. The wetness sitting in my panties gave me chills.

I finally got home and not surprisingly, I was ready for round two with myself. I grabbed my favorite vibrator, found a new visual motivation and prepared myself for cumming. All over again, my blue-eyed boy, the flight instructor I get to spend time with regularly, the man child on my radar, came to mind. It’s a nuisance that I have him on my mind so much…more than I’d like—more than I’m comfortable with. I’m not sure if it’s because of the time it’s taken to get him to submit…or…..well, okay I admit that I’m attracted to more than his appearance. I digress. I was ready for another orgasm and to maintain my schedule, I had to get this done in about 10 or 15 minutes (I’m kinda a stickler when it comes to my daily regiment). As the mini-movie played, I called to mind his face, his piercing eyes, his smile…and the characteristics I haven’t seen—his eyes closed, his head falling back in satisfaction, his mouth on my body, the way his mouth moves as he whispers…easy enough, and I’m wet again; the mini-movie was simply background noise—I could get off with what I had in my imagination. I slid the vibrator in and laid back; I could hear the moans and breathing from my on-screen motivation, but what I saw was him on me…and then it came back to me—the desire for hard and mean, fast and violent. I pulled the vibrator out and slammed it back in me, hard and aggressively, imagining it was blue-eyed flight instructor, punishing me and praising me, all in one moment. Out and in, fast and hard, over and over; I pulled it out and slammed it in until it hurt, and I liked it—and I wanted more—I wanted him. And as I felt my ‘O’ coming on, a voice from my mini-movie screamed out his name, flight instructor’s actual name, “[Name], oh God baby, YES….fuck me…yes [Name]….oh my God, yes, YES, YES!!!” What were the odds? The young sir I was masturbating to was, in fact there, in some sense. I came—hearing his name shouted out in orgasm was the edge, and I went over–maintaining my 10-15 minute schedule, no problem.

I’m not sure what’s to come of this whole thing. I’m impatient in general and I find myself wanting him more and more. I’m much more aggressive than I’m being with this young one and I don’t know why I’m going about this with kid-gloves (pun intended). I’ve had only ONE other experience that required ridiculous amounts of waiting…you’ll remember that one as the sexy Mr. K from the story, ‘I Hate You, Let’s F*ck”. [Raising eyebrow in a moment of clarity] Self affirmation: Take what you want…take what you want.

Fly Away

Posted in The Usual Dirties with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 24, 2012 by Succubus a.k.a. Eve Incognito

For Come Fly With Me Saga-Part 4

Come Fly With Me Saga-Part 3

Posted in The Usual Dirties with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 19, 2012 by Succubus a.k.a. Eve Incognito

“You make it difficult to flirt with you”….”Sorry […] I’ll try to be easier.”

I heard from another instructor that my blue-eyed boy had shared some of our conversation; this disappoints me. I’ve debated if it is too soon to visit rules for this type of game playing with him, but this warrants a need. I note-to-self that the next meeting we have, I must, in some way, make a point without being too condescending, although, I think this boy could use a lesson or two and I’m more than happy to teach him.

Following my message to him that he makes it hard to flirt with him, he says he’d try to be easier.  I don’t respond—the idea that he is storytelling to others about our interactions concerns me…angers me; this is what I get for dealing with an inexperienced boy. Question is: Do I want to ‘work’ with this one? He’s obviously inexperienced and perhaps he hasn’t played with someone like me before…that always poses a problem. On the other hand, I can be Dom in this battle of sexual beings, we can have fun, and maybe I can teach him things; he can be my allegorical puppy. He messages me again: “I’m the teacher so I’M not going to cross the line, but I can’t control what you do…” He wants me to; I can read between lines. He just doesn’t want the responsibility resting on his shoulders. “Challenge? One-sided anything is rarely as fun” I respond. “There’s no going back for either of us once the line has been crossed”, he quickly replied. I leave it alone.

I’m running late to our meeting on Wednesday; when I get there, he says, “We’re flying today, so get your stuff ready.” Sometimes, I hear a Dom in his voice—it’s authoritative, demanding and confident —I wonder if I can train him to bark orders like that when it has nothing to do with flying. “What are we working on?” I ask; my voice is slightly faint from the sidetracking my mind was just doing. “I know what I want to do—it’s a surprise for you—you’ll know when I tell you.” God—does he know what he’s doing when he’s so commanding? “Go pre-flight. I’ll be there in a second.”

I walk outside to pre-flight inspect the plane; he’s following several steps behind me. I can smell cigarette smoke and know he’s just lit up. I walk around the plane, every now and then looking up to see him still smoking. I finish pre-flight and crawl into the cockpit—he appears at the cockpit door a few seconds later. “Are you ready for this?” he asks, as he points both index fingers to his crotch then moves his pointing fingers up , gradually, until he’s pointing at his face. I giggle and he laughs; “I thought you’d like that”. I wonder if he was thinking up a ‘good one’ to use while he was smoking. He starts to climb into the right side seat and I stop him and ask if he wants a cushion to sit on (yes, a cushion…these cockpit seats are not comfortable; many of the planes have seat cushions in the plane to use). “Sure, why not—I could use something under me…” his sentence trails and he leans over, looking in at me with a smirk on his face. I can’t control my smile and I shake my head left to right, looking up at him. “Hey, I was mooooore than happy to keep this professional, but nooooo…..you had to take it to the next level. So, I hope you can handle it” he states in an ‘I-told-you-so’ manner. “Trust me, I can handle it”, I say just under my breath but so he can still hear me. I reach to the back seat and grab a cushion and just as he climbs in, I slide it under him. He sits and thanks me for his cushion. I reach back to grab the other cushion. Since I’m already sitting down, I slowly thrust my hips up, arch my back and am sitting in a back-bent bridge position; I ask him to slide the cushion under me. His face is eye-level to my hoisted hips—I look over and he’s staring at them. “Cushion?” I ask. He lets out a slow breath and slides the cushion under me and I sit back down, slowly. I look over at him and raise an eyebrow….”You like that, don’t you?” I coax a grin from him and he simply nods. “You’re making this hard” he utters. “Am I? Or should I check and validate this accusation?” He laughs out loud, a little bit nervous. We take off.

“So, what’s the plan?” I ask, because I really do want to know what our plan for flying is. “I dunno…just flying around. I just wanted to come up and hang out. We’ll do some touch-and-goes; work on some navigation stuff…” He hands me the map and we start working with navigation items. After awhile of flying around, he says that we’re going to do some touch and goes. I assume that we’re done with the map and I set it on his lap; my hand brushes an upper part of his leg—I feel him shift in his seat. “Don’t worry, I respect some boundaries.”I say with a grin. “Oh…NOW you have limits!” He grumbles a bit. We do a few touch-and-goes at a nearby airport, the whole time making sexual comments, not even hidden behind clever words at this point. We get ready to fly back and he leans over to get something in the back seat. When he turns back to the front, I feel his warmth near the side of my face and my neck…my neck is a weak spot for me. I want him to lean over…do something. He holds his position for awhile and then he turns away, uttering, “I can’t” under his breath.

We land at our airport; he climbs out and lights a cigarette. He chains the plane and I do a walk around. There’s nothing being said between us and it’s awkward. “So, we’re meeting this weekend?” he asks. “Sure…so, do you have questions for me?” I ask. He doesn’t seem to know what I’m talking about. “You said you have questions…so ask.” He thinks for a bit then says, “Nah…prolly just drunk…no questions here.” He finishes his cigarette and we walk into the building. “So, go over……..” I know he’s telling me things that I need to cover for next time, but my mind is imagining what his moaning would sound like while getting a blowjob at 6,000 feet in the air. My breathing becomes laborious and I feel my panties get wet. “Cool? [He must have just finished what he was saying] So, are we the last ones in here?” he asks. “Looks like it” I reply. We’re in his office now. He’s glanced at me a couple of times. My mind imagines what he would feel like from behind. I consider walking over to him and initiating. “You wanna come here?” he asks. At that moment, I remember the note-to-self from earlier: next meeting, I must make a point about rules and sharing too much with others.

Me: You know, these types of things are easier to handle when everyone knows not to talk…

Him: What types of things?

Me: There are things that are fun to talk about, and then there are those things that are fun to THINK about talking about….but NOT talking about them.

Him: Such as…

Me: Such as, if a bartender is giving you drinks at the bar for free, you don’t announce it to everyone; you simply enjoy the free beer and leave it at that.

Him: That happened, like, once!

Me: Sometimes, once is already too much.

Him: Are you trying to say something?

Me: I’m saying it’s best for everyone involved if you keep your mouth shut.

I don’t think he likes being spoken down to; he’s agitated and says nothing. He gets up from his chair and I get up from mine. We walk out of the building and he says, “Sooo…is this…” he doesn’t complete his sentence. “Do you have questions”, I ask. His reply: “No.”

We meet again over the next couple of days.

Stay Sexy! Eve~

Intermission

Posted in The Usual Dirties on October 19, 2012 by Succubus a.k.a. Eve Incognito

A message from my Dom today:

[…] You BETTER find a hard one asap. Quickly get on ur knees. Shove it deep in ur throat, then lift ur skirt bend over and have them pound it. A friend, friends hubby,stranger, whatever.. I better have a story on Monday when I get back to work. No excuses.

I can’t stop smiling. More to follow from, “Come Fly with Me”.

Come Fly With Me Saga-Part 2

Posted in The Usual Dirties with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 12, 2012 by Succubus a.k.a. Eve Incognito

Rules—I’m debating if now is a good time to start laying out rules. Here’s part of a recent conversation and a reason why I consider preemptive rule establishment:

Me: C’mon, give me a little credit

Him: I’ll give you all the credit you can handle

Me: Damn. Okay then. You know how to use all that credit?

Him: I’m a teacher; I know how to give credit…dependent upon the student’s skills…

Me: This student’s got some damn good skills…

Him: …That’s what she said…

Me: [referencing, ‘That’s what she said’] now that you have that, you’re gonna abuse it, huh?

Him: I’ll abuse it all day long….

I’ve had several more meetings with my instructor since I last updated, so I’ve lost count of what meeting we are on. As one could tell by part of a recent conversation and because we see each other more frequently now, there is significant loosening of our respective restrain. So much so that inhibitions have flown out the window here and there and I feel that I need to establish guidelines for my young educator in this game. Not to be overlooked—I’m seeing him for a reason, he’s there for a reason and there is an ultimate goal….I am learning. BUT, I believe the Box of Pandora is now ajar and I can’t overlook what may ensue.

Our most recent meeting took me by surprise (well, as has almost everything thereafter). The conversation above took place AFTER our last meeting, but even during our meeting, the boy was on. He employed full innuendo mode. The comments started out subtle, yet very deliberate and by the end of our time together, there was no attempt to hide it. He was leaning in closer to speak, he held eye contact longer…these little things told me the meeting this day was different. Our session started with a small explanation covering things I had struggled with the week before. As he spoke through these things, I tried to stay focused but my mind kept trailing away. Has this happened to you: you pick up a smell on someone (not necessarily bad) that immediately transports your mind to the time and place that you remember that smell from another time and place? He smokes and though many might find the idea of smelling smoke to be unappealing, to me at this particular moment, it was mesmerizing. Something about the remnant of his last cigarette, the smell of his cologne, clothes, and body…I felt immediately aroused; the smell was the same as my encounters with Pontoon Boat Guy. I can’t say if it was my face and expression that gave it away; perhaps my arousal was releasing pheromones that he picked up on. He stopped was he was saying and in my fog, I suddenly realized he wasn’t speaking but instead was simply sitting there, staring at me. “Are you okay…are you getting any of this?” It took several seconds for me to break my spell; “I’m…ahhh, sorry….I’m just not quite with it today…I—I’ll try to pay better attention…I’m just—hot…” I stuttered, my strenuous breath quite evident. It seemed like minutes before he said anything and yet he held my glance the whole time: “Yes, you are.” I let out a final breath and urged him to continue his lecture, not acknowledging his last comment. As he continued, he stood up and leaned over the desk to show me something—I could feel his warm breathing near my neck and it gave me chills. For a split second, I closed my eyes and took in his scent and his warmth, and as that split-second passed and I opened my eyes, his blue eyes were looking at me. I smirked a little and he smirked back. “So…you’re not getting it” he suggested. I shot back a, “That’s what she said” and he laughed and gave me accolades for my quick-thinking. For a moment, the tension broke; I started into a question, “…So, I want to get from here to there (I said, pointing at a map)…so I want to grab that…..” my sentence faded into his moment of, “That’s what she said” and we laughed again. This banter went back and for through now-deliberate statements about size, touch, movement, wet things, and many other sexual references. As we came to the end of our session, several inappropriate comments and jokes later, he said, “Okay, well….that’s it for today….” He sat and stared at me for an eternity and I stared back—into his blue, blue eyes. IT was there–all around us, between us, inside us…my mind flashed me images of us fucking, there on his desk and I let out a small, stunted breath. “Well…today was interesting” he said in attempts to free us both from the silence; “Fun stuff today, right?” he urged. “The best thing about today was the thick and almost unbearable sexual tension between us” I blurted, immediately wondering when my internal monologue became part of the dialogue. He was taken aback by my candor; “You’re just gonna put it out there like THAT, huh?” Apparently, I had done just that.

Later that evening, he texted me to let me know he wasn’t going to be able to make our weekend meeting and what started with a tiny, little text or two, turned into part of what you read above. Below, a handful of the last texts I’ve gotten, here’s where we stand:

Me: […] enjoy the word game?

Him: Kinda […] little bit confusing…

Me: Do explain. Curious.

Him: Too much left unsaid…could be fun.

Me: Mmhmmm…

Him: […] I’m not going to do it, has to be you…

Me: Not sure what you mean by that […] I’ll be honest with you if you have questions.

Him: I have questions…

 

I suppose we’ll see where it goes from here; that’s part of the fun, right 😉 ?

Stay tuned. Stay Sexy. Eve