Don't touch me like that!

Oh, DUDEs. It's time.

I feel bad but I have to say it: you guys SUCK at touching girls' vulvas, especially when it's not yet sex but still sexy time.

Here are five pointers to help you along in many a situation (bear in mind that lots of girls like different things, but my friends and I all agree on the following recommendations):

1) Touch me lightly! Lighter than you think possible. So lightly you think I can hardly feel it. This might not make me come, but it will give me such a terrific sensation that I will be aroused enough to come about twenty times quicker afterwards.

2) Use your whole hand, not one finger, to touch a vulva. One finger feels clinical and annoying. A hot cupped palm pressed against it, however, is delicious. Three stroking fingers (downwards, never upwards) is also very very lovely.

3) If you do use fingers, make sure they're wet. Lick them, or dip them in the vag if it's wet enough. Silky fingers transmit sensation so much better. Seriously! Try this: touch your wrist softly and slowly. Next, lick your fingers so they're drenched and touch your wrist softly and slowly. Which feels better?

4) At first, be afraid. Be very afraid. Go slow. VERY slow! Stop! Go slower. Don't match speed of your touch to intensity of YOUR arousal - they're not related.

5) It's great to focus on the clittish area, but don't try and isolate the clit or rub it until the lady is actually about to come. And even then, see point 3.


OK? Okay.

Handjobs? Meh.

I'm crap at handjobs. I mean, all is well and good and right in the world when I'm rubbing my hot little hand against a straining erection that's trying to push through the pants it's trapped in, but once the pants come off?
I'd rather have it in my mouth, frankly. I just think guys can do a much better job than I can when it comes to plain hand jobs. Using my hand on a cock doesn't interest me nearly as much as doing all sorts of other things. Easier to figure out what a cock likes when you use your mouth, anyway.

...But all your sperm are belong to me!

He's such a good-looking young man. I felt almost carnivorous around him - bitey and pretty and like I wanted to take all parts of him between my teeth. A little hurty and a little holdy; I couldn't figure out what I want to do with him at any given moment, so I was forever curling and clutching and rubbing myself up against him and biting and kissing and squeezing and stroking and grabbing. Mostly grabbing.

Here's the story: he and I have never yet had sex - but before this current event, we got all smoochy once when he and a friend stayed over after drinks and dinner. His friend snored like a walrus while we got relatively dirty, ever so quietly.

But soon after that, in a spate of flirtatious but restrained (I thought) text messages, he sent me a photo of his very erect penis. What?! Why? I can't answer that despite asking it. It was a nice picture and a nice penis - every bit as hard and shapely as it felt through his pants that time - but the whole thing was ever so slightly uncalled-for, considering how little we knew one another. I stopped replying to his texts for a while, unsure of how to proceed in the situation.

Then when it eventually rekindled, we made plans to hang out again, three times. And three times he let me down. That is SUCH a fucking no-no, so I told him I wasn't interested in seeing him again, since he was obviously not too concerned about sticking to our arrangements. He apologised, but I didn't say anything further. And he didn't get in touch again until this week, Monday night, when out of the blue he sounded very keen to hang out.

I wasn't really encouraging, and scolded him, sort of; I made it clear that he was welcome to come over, but any sexy time was not on the cards. I wasn't going to have sex with him under any circumstances, I said, nor anything similar.

Instead I sucked his silky straining cock until he came buckets down my throat.

Boy, I sure showed him.

This is how it started. And here's how it finished.

Let me say this: I ADORE it when guys love being touched by me. When I bite gently up the side of their tummy and they shiver and moan and touch my shoulder blades with trembling hands and can't stop moving their feet or twitching their cock. It delights me when the graze of my lips and teeth over a small male nipple makes them shudder and grab at me. I love it when the soft weight of my breasts drifting over their chest makes them go slightly mad, wanting to hold them so badly but not wanting to stop me doing it - their hands hover, stroke, clutch the sheets, and then scrape down my sides in anguish.

Now, he is and does ALL of those things. All of them. And SUCH a toucher, too. An absolute delight to have languid winter night sex with, thick duvets draping over us, lying fully and heavily on and around one another, pulling at frozen nipples, goosepimpled skin tingling and contracting with the warmth of husky hands running over it. Arms drawing each other in to lie flat, chest-to-chest, thighs and calves tangling in the layers of bedding.

He is really into using his fingers. Fingering. Pushing his fingers between my legs, tapping them lightly over my swollen vulva, dipping them into my dripping cunt. Furiously finger-fucking me as we both groan in vicious pleasure. And as he went at my hot, hazy nether regions, I went at his. I curled my head towards his thighs and swept my hands over his tightening balls and tense thighs before pulling his big stiffy to me. Hehe. Big stiffies. Fuck yeah.

His cock throbbed in my mouth; several times he whimpered and gasped and pulled out and shook his head in the agony of wanting so badly to come but not wanting to come quite yet. And when it was finally time, he asked my permission like a gentleman before it pulsed and poured into me until my mouth was literally full. J-guys have lovely come with no flavour and no scent - just hot and watery. I swallowed it and laughed and gasped for air, and he pushed my hair away from my face and collapsed on the futon and laughed and said, "That was quite a lot, eh?"
I agreed that it was. "Been a while?"
"WAY too long, Manda."

And the way he said that made me think that he meant he's been waiting an unbearably long time to do that with ME.

Which did NOTHING for my restraint. I can't wait!

All my self discipline are belong to you.

I primly resisted his advances for ages. Minutes. SEVERAL minutes. "I'm not going to have sex with you," I pointed out when he was suggesting he come over, late on Monday night.

"I don't mind - I just haven't seen you for ages! I wanna hang out."

"I'm going to bed shortly."

"I don't mind going to bed. I like bed."

"Ha. I know. Alright, see you when you get here."

"I'm right outside."

That would be far creepier if I hadn't known he was walking me-wards as he was texting.

Anyway, I pulled out spare futons and piled them comfortably, gave him lots of bedding all of his very own. Cos I certainly had no plans for any rumpy pumpy.

He brought a blast of cold winter night air in with him. I turned my glowing orange electric heater on and he crouched in front of it for a moment. "Is it alright if I sleep in the nude?" he asked, standing and yanking his clothes off.
"God, you're a trier!"
"You can sleep in the nude too. I won't be offended."
"I'm sure you won't," I said, but politely declined. I'm a GOOD girl. And he was kind enough to keep his undies on.

He commented that his feet were always warm - were mine? No, I said; my hands are usually hot and my feet switch between boiling and glacial. And OF COURSE he lazily moved his leg in under my duvets to feel how chilly my feet were. And OF COURSE his were roasty warm and curious.

And of course, then it all began.

Got pissed on but accidentally found the airport twice (though didn't dashing well need or want it)

Trying to find a certain small, neat and brightly-lit hotel in a certain big, neat and brightly-lit city: DIFFICULT. Apparently you end up at the airport twice and then have a businessman piss on you for free.

Friend: Go left at the next lights.

Me: Wait, I thought you said right!

Friend: It's definitely left. Then the hotel should be somewhere on our right.

Me: OK. (turns left) Is there supposed to be a big bridge? This is a very big bridge. And we've run out of buildings.

Friend: ...Maybe we were supposed to go right back there after all.

Me: Well anyway, let's stop and ask for directions at the next convenience store. An aeroplane, look. Oh there are two. What? Why is that an aeroplane? Why would there be two aerop-- we're at the airport! We're at the airport!

Friend: No we're not, no we're not! The airport's not even on the map, are you sure we're at the airport? We're definitely not at the airport.

Aeroplane: ROAR, ZOOM, etc.

30 minutes later:

Friend: Well, we can't be far away now.

Me: Maybe if we take the next big right, we can-- aargh!!

Aeroplane: ROAR, ZOOM, etc.

Me and Friend: Cries of dismay and humiliation, followed by the decision to stop and ask some sort of a local.

I see a guy in a suit standing at the edge of a small foot-bridge over a small pond at the edge of a small park by the side of the dang road, admiring the view of the city lights.

Me: Excuse me...

Guy: (Turns around in shock, still holding penis, wee streams onto my leg and sort of flap-drops in wet golden sheets down my trousers) OH!

Me: Oh, sorry -

Guy: ...No, I'M sorry. Oh my GOD, I just... oh my god.

We both stare at my drenched and steaming leg for a moment (it's cold at night) and the poor guy pops his dick back into his pants.

Me: Um... (stifling giggles and wondering whether it's the decent or the cruel thing to continue) I was wondering if you knew where such-and-such station is, cos I'm trying to find a hotel just near it...

Him: Oh my GOD, I... yeah, go right at the next intersection and then just go straight ahead blah blah blah directions directions

Me: Thanks very much.

Him: oh my GOD I'm so SORRY, I can't believe I pissed ALL over your leg, look, you're SOAKING in my piss, check it out, oh my. Here (takes out his wallet, presumably to compensate me)!

Me: No no no, you're not paying me for that. Accidents happen. Seriously, no, please don't worry about it!

Him (loudly): But I pissed on you! I want to pay you.

Passerby: (extremely strange look)

I start losing my battle with the "AHA!!" laughter that's bumping around inside me and tell him it's completely okay and walk away gingerly in the other direction holding my trouser leg away from my shin in mild horror.)

Urine isn't a terribly offensive substance, eh? But it's so HOT and ripe, and it's someone's waste product, and when you don't know that person it isn't thaaaat awesome.

Pee ess: I can't believe people collect and drink their urine for health. As I understand it, re-consuming uric acid and urea is a terrific way to fuck up your kidneys.

Oh well, each to their own (urine).

Just add Bruce Lee

How could I omit Bruce Lee? What was I THINKING?! How can a human being even MAKE a list of smoldering hot Eastern Dudes and omit Bruce Lee? I blame it on the bleeds. I always get a bit absent-minded (and puffy) when I bleed from the vadge. He is so unbearably hot! Even with a 1970s skyscraper haircut.

Anyway, my favourite place to view half-naked J-guys, incidentally (unfortunately I don't have one for Ch-guys) is this charming site, Danshi Nuudo, or, in English, "Holy Fuck, Naked Guys!" It's in Japanese but you're not there for the commentary, now, are you?

Anyway, recently I've been corresponding with a chap from Singapore - let's call him Mark. He's ethnically Chinese, trilingual, bronze-bodied, has lean firm thighs that look great in jeans in the photos he's sent me, full lips, scruffy dark hair and the most GORGEOUS smile with a deep cheeky dimple on one side. He lived in Osaka for a year but is now elsewhere. Gutted! I'd do something drastic if it meant I could fuck him. Gimme.