My Sex Diary 2010:

ENTRY 4: FOR THE WEEK OF 25 JANUARY

Hi guys!

Before we get started, thanks to all the people who voted, left comments, sent me private comments, and completed their homework! Stick around after the entry where I answer some frequently-asked-questions that get asked of me.

And if you haven't checked out the first, second, and third entries, please do! There's some context in there that I'm not going to repeat, so if you want to understand everything that's going on, you should go back and read them if you haven't already. :)

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I was being fucked.

I thought I'd start out today by going straight into sex, because since Matt and I first went at it we've being going at it a lot more.

This particular session was on Tuesday of that week (I'm writing this on Saturday, the 30th). It was quite late. Matt had come over, obviously. He hadn't intended to stay that late but time kind of just slipped away. By ten o'clock everybody had gone to bed -- my parents, Becky. My parents' bedroom is downstairs, underneath Becky's bedroom, which is on the other side of the floor. The reason why I say this is only to point out that we can pretty safely have sex in my room. As long as we don't make a lot of noise, there's no real chance of being overheard. My bed is super quiet. The only danger comes from when Matt's bucking hard: sometimes the bed has the tendency to shift closer to the wall, and then it starts banging against the wall loudly, which is obviously no good.

As an aside, I thought Becky was asleep. The next morning, she confronted me and told me she'd heard us having sex. She said it as if I'd committed murder. I told her that I hoped she enjoyed listening to me having a good time, and that shut her up. She might have just been fishing for dirt anyway, though Matt told me that I was moaning. (As I've said before, I don't really know what I'm doing while I'm having really good sex.)

I was telling you how I was being fucked. In the space of a week, or however long it was since Matt had first entered me, I've completely become his slut. I haven't told him what I'm about to tell you -- I never would, and he certainly respects me too much to ever try to pull anything off -- but he could take me anytime, anywhere, and I wouldn't oppose it. I'm under this spell that he's woven. I've never been like this before; there's no way I can explain it, and I've got no idea how it happened. But the type of sex I'm having is sex that I never let other guys pull off in the past. I'm talking about rough sex, sex positions that make me feel like I'm just there to be used, even though I'm getting more pleasure from it than Matt is. I can tell he loves it more than anything, but I lose control. This might be the dirtiest, most degrading thing I've ever said about myself, but I love being used by him. (I can promise you that he definitely has no idea that I think of it like this. He does everything for me -- always makes sure I'm comfortable, that I'm happy, that I always come... truth is, if he stopped caring, it probably wouldn't bother me.)

Matt fucked me in what I can only describe as a weird kind of doggy style. First off, none of us gave each other head or anything. We were just sitting on my couch, wrapped up under a blanket. I had almost fallen asleep when he shook me awake and gave me that 'time-to-make-love' kiss, you know, that reach across, cradle the back of the heat, real passionate, real steamy kiss right on the center of the mouth. I totally fell for it.

I made my way over to the bed, and he chased me down playfully. Rather than let me strip off, he flipped me over so I was face down. Then he started tickling me on my stomach, just to torture me. He knows I hate it, but I totally love it at the same time. I don't know why it is that I'm so ticklish on the sides of my waist. I guess it's kind of like an erogenous zone, or something? I had to bite the pillow to avoid laughing, to avoid waking the house up. Meanwhile I was trying to kick him off me.

But he had wormed his hand up my skirt. I was wearing this miniskirt with a plaid, checkered pattern. I don't know why I was wearing it. It was freezing cold, and it's not like I'm still trying to seduce Matt. Nevertheless, I felt his hand rub up against my navel -- another really sensitive spot of mine -- as he searched for the top of my underwear. That day I was wearing a black g-string.

As soon as he had dug his hand in, he started fingering me rabidly. Even though I had no intention of stopping him I closed my legs and said "No!" in a fit of laughter. The palm of his hand rubbed up against my small bush, which has finally started coming back in. I'm shaving it so it's just the top, and I'll let it grow as thick as Matt wants it.

He was too strong for me. He pushed his hand through and kept rubbing at my labia. I couldn't refuse him. I wasn't quite so aroused yet, but there was enough moisture there so that it wasn't too uncomfortable.

"Spread your legs," Matt said, biting my ear.

"At least let me take my clothes off," I protested.

"Spread your legs," he repeated. We were both laughing, why I don't know -- maybe because we were acting silly.

I spread my legs to give him as much access as he wanted, though he hindered himself by lying on top of me. After he'd given his fingers a good lick to provide some extra lubrication (and to taste my sweet little pussy as well) he went back to rubbing my raw. With his middle finger he rubbed the crack of my vulva, right in between the lips, and with the rest of his hand he rubbed at my mound. Soon that one finger was like a boat, sailing in a sea of my wetness.

He kept at it, and I kept quiet. "You are so good," I said to him.

"Want a taste? Share the taste of yourself with me." Without warning he dipped three whole fingers into me. I shrieked and he slapped a hand over my mouth; the intrusion was too big and his fingers too thick, and in too deep. He held them in me as I squirmed. I could feel him rubbing the walls of my vagina within, trying to scoop up as much of my juices as he could. He whispered an apology in my ear as he went back to frigging me deeply. Apparently he was dissatisfied with how wet I was, and he wanted even more. I calmed down and tried to accommodate his fingers.

By the time I'd gotten used to their feel, he stopped moving them. He released his free hand from my mouth and got up onto his knees, his three fingers still deep inside me. I liked the way they felt. I wished he'd keep fingering me. I wanted him to get me off like that. But he didn't. With his other hand he scooped me up so that I was on my hands and knees, in the position for doggy-style sex. Then he pulled down my black panties so that they were around my legs, just above my knees.

Matt finally removed his fingers from inside me. "Turn your head," he said, and I leaned back upright against him. He held the three fingers up to the light and examined them. They were glistening with transparent, slick lube that my own body had made. Even though his hand was a way away from my face, I could smell myself. The smell was strong, overpowering even.

He painted my lips with my cum with the first finger. It was as if he was applying lipstick. In two solid strokes he had smeared both of them. He wiped the rest of fluid on the finger right under my nose. I got a full whiff of myself every time I inhaled from then onwards. Then he kissed me. It was a soft kiss, but it lasted forever. He licked my lips after he'd pulled back, taking every trace of me from my mouth with him.

I opened my mouth as he pushed his other two fingers, dripping with my cum, right inside. It was like a sensory overload for a moment as my entire head filled up with the smell and taste of me. I have to say, it tasted pretty good. Matt has made me lick myself up so many times that I've become accustomed to the taste, whereas before I practically hated it.

He licked all three fingers as well once he'd taken them out, and then he French-kissed me deeply, right down into my mouth and at the back of my throat, as if he was trying to swallow me whole. I battered his tongue with mine. I was making sure I got as much of the taste back as I could.

He pushed me back down into the doggy position. I hadn't had my fill of our collective mouths but he'd had his, and he wanted my pussy. He still wouldn't let me take my clothes on. I was wearing two different tops, a skirt, stockings, and pink Hello Kitty slippers, and none of them came off. My panties were still around my thighs. I felt like a prostitute in an alley who doesn't bother to take any clothes off as she's fucked by some guy. I was being fucked by my guy.

He pushed the miniskirt up my waist, so my butt was sticking up in the air, out in the open. The thought flashed in my mind that we should probably be having sex inside the bed so that if somebody walked in unannounced they wouldn't see us, but the thought disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. The cold air slapped against my flaming hot sex. It was a total parallel in temperature, and it felt good.

I heard him unzip his pants and strip them off. With a finger he scooped up some of my fluid that had leaked out onto my vulva. He either ate it or lubed up his cock with it; I couldn't see which one.

And then I felt him placed the edge of his cock right in between my pussy lips, where his middle finger had been minutes before. I held my breath in anticipation. We've had a lot of sex, but I'm still learning the feel of his cock. You have to spend a long time with a penis to learn how it feels inside, how big it is, just how deep the guy is willing to go, how thick it is. Some girls have naturally big vaginas that can close down to accommodate the male. I get the feeling that mine is a lot tighter than usual. As I say, I when I get wet I really get wet, so it's never been that big of an issue, but Matt is longer and thicker than average -- even if it's only an inch's difference. It might just be the idea, but I can really feel it.

Matt slipped inside of me patiently. I imagined him closing his eyes and soaking the feeling in, as he always does. My miniskirt bounced on my waist as he adjusted himself with in me. His first move is always to push all the way in, because he knows it makes me uncomfortable to have something big and hard and hot inside me. And when he's in up to the hilt, he bucks against me, getting in even further. It's not pain that it causes -- if it was pain, I would have told him to stop. It actually feels pretty good, but it feels really uncomfortable at the same time. It's his way of announcing, 'I'm in you, and now you're going to get it.'

I've just remembered this now, though it has nothing to do with the sex that night. I'll tell you anyway: a couple of days before this incident, he told me that he'd felt some resistance. I'd felt something too, like some really tight pressure in or against me. I'm still wondering whether he hit my cervix. But wouldn't that hurt? I don't know. I've never felt anything like it before. That moment actually felt really good. Reading it up on Wikipedia now, it says that some women find it painful while others find that it's the most stimulating thing of all time. I just Googled it as well, and I found a sexuality health thing that said that when a women is aroused the cervix can recede six or seven inches. I do get pretty aroused. So now I'm thinking that he was hitting my cervix, which I have never felt before in the many other times I've had sex before with someone other than Matt. Again, it felt good. But now I'm a little afraid to try it again because a lot of the information on the internet says it's really painful, "like being kicked in the stomach". Not a sensation I'm looking for.

Matt's first two or three strokes were slow and careful, but then he just set about demolishing me. His dong grated between my walls, and I spread my legs, trying to relax my muscles more. The only sound I could hear was his stomach slapping against my ass. His balls were dangling down, though, and I could feel them rebounding off my thighs. I imagine that was quite uncomfortable, but he kept going, so it might not have been.

I was melting. The friction of my tiny pussy and his girth was generating enough heat to light a fire by touch, I'm sure of it. My poor little vagina was trying to cope by emitting as much lube as possible, but I was almost running on empty; Matt had coaxed so much out earlier.

I came really early on, probably as a result of the fingering. Seriously, it was the earliest orgasm I've ever had during sex. It could only have been three or four minutes in, and it came really suddenly. I felt pressure rising up inside me, and then I went numb for a second, and then it all came flooding back. Matt felt it, and I know he did because he wrapped both hands around my mouth a split second before I started screaming. He told me later that I had still been moaning throughout. I can't help it!

As I came he put all his length inside me again, and this time left it there. He removed one hand from my mouth and brought it down to my pussy. And then he pinched my clit through its hood, and I went crazy. I was kicking my legs, it felt so good. My vagina was quivering on him, the lips were quivering; they were actually shuddering and having spasms. He asked me if he could take his hand away from my mouth. I was still cumming when he did. He was still in me all the way, and I kept moaning, and I moaned on and on as quietly as I could with my head in the pillow, trying desperately to silence myself. While still pinching my clitoris, he made a v-shape with his other hand and ran it across the bottom of my stretched sex. It rammed up against the bulb of his penis at the bottom, and it grinded up against my labia.

Thirty seconds later, and my orgasm came to a screeching halt. It left me breathless. Orgasms never come that quickly for me; it's a really rare occurrence. And there's nothing quite like the feeling of post-orgasm sex. Everything's a little more heightened, a little more sensitive, and you can feel your body building up again.

That brings me to where I had originally started this entry: I was being fucked. Next, Matt mounted me. He got to the position where he was essentially crouching over me, though I was still on my hands and knees, in the same position. And he was just dicking me. I felt the penetration more than ever. I felt him delve down and reach with in me. I felt him grow harder and bigger as his panting increased.

He grabbed me as he came. His hands worked their way around to my boobs. My breasts were being mauled as he came violently in me. I don't really like sex talk -- it embarrasses me, I guess I'm kind of bashful in that respect -- but I felt the need to whisper, "Come for me, baby," as a kind of reward. Matt deserved it!

As he pulled out, a stick trail of both our cum combined smeared itself down my thigh. Matt collapsed onto me, and I rolled over to face him. Between my thighs and up my sex I had a honey pot of cum, a combination of flavors from my body and his. His cock was still hard, though certainly smaller, and quickly deflating. It was caked with my girl juice too. Our eyes met, and our mouths met. Forty-five minutes later, he left for his place. He wanted to stay, but I had classes before him, and it would have been weird for him to wake up without me at my place. We both ate from each other, in that space of forty-five minutes. The taste of sex is beautiful.

*

Wow! This entry is running long and I haven't even talked about some other major stuff. First of all, allow me to introduce you to my best friend, Sarah.

Sarah is a lot like me bodywise. Well, actually, not really. She's as thin as me from the waist up, and she's about as tall as me. But that's where similarities end. Sarah's got a giant butt and thick thighs. She's not fat by any means; not even overweight. She's definitely thin, but she's got a natural hourglass figure, and this amazingly round and soft ass. And she's got really big boobs. I don't know breast size or anything. A couple of years ago, when she was sixteen, she had a 30C breast size when a lot of us still had tennis ball boobs. I don't know what she's at now, but she's definitely bigger.

She's beautiful, too, in every sense of the word. Sarah's got long, ultra dark red hair. It's so dark that you'd think it's black. Only in the sunlight does it shine red, that amazing red that most people can only get with hair dye. And she's got these deep, blue eyes, doe-like, and really innocent.

The idea of innocence is funny, because she's got the reputation -- a very widespread reputation, and I mean very widespread -- of being a slut, or a whore. I've dealt with the same labels being applied to me in the past but Sarah has legitimately earned them. And I mean that in the least offensive way; I love Sarah, as if she were my sister. I think I might be the only person who knows what she gets up to. Sarah's very open about her sexuality, she's flirtatious, she gets along well with men, and she dresses to show off her body.

If there's a fetish, then Sarah has tried it, I can guarantee you. She's a dirty little college girl. She is the... I mean, I can't even think of a good way to describe it. Most men's fantasies are embodied with her. That's bad wording, but you get what I mean. You name it, she's done it, and she's gotten off on it.

The reason why I bring Sarah up is because both Matt and I will be attending her birthday party on the 1st of February, which is in two days from when I'm writing this. I guess this is a bit of a teaser, because I can tell you right now: knowing Sarah, the party will be sexually charged. There'll be just her close friends there, and there's a high chance that it will be reduced to an orgy by the end of the night. Now, I'm not allowed to touch anybody other than Matt and he's not allowed to touch anybody other than me, a rule set down by me and happily agreed to by Matt, so don't expect any crazy swinger stories. I might have some interesting tales to report back to you with, however, involving other people.

I also bring up Sarah because she was kind enough to cut us a key to her apartment, as well as a key to her room. It was actually her that suggested it. Sometimes Matt and I just want to get away and spend a couple hours with each other. But we can't go home. Matt's parents are retired and are around the house all day, and my mom was always a stay-at-home soccer mom. So both houses are occupied. Sarah rents an apartment right near college with three other girls. Each girl has a lock for their individual room, too. So Sarah's given us access to her room. You can guess for what.

Not to give you the impression that Matt and I need to have our hands on each other 100% of the time. It's not like that at all. It's legitimately useful to have a place to escape to while there are no classes. It's quiet, you know?

Because Sarah is so... liberal when it comes to sex, she literally loves the idea of sleeping in the same bed that Matt and I have had sex in. That's weird and creepy, yes, but she's obsessed with that part of life. She revels in it.

And I think she's into Matt. This is just my personal speculation, mind you. And Matt would never fall for anything, and Sarah would never let anything happen. But she does flirt with him. It's just what she does, though. She doesn't mean in maliciously. Part of me thinks that's why she wants us having sex in her bed.

Did we demo her bed out this week? Hell yeah we did! See, you're lucky: getting two sex stories in one entry. On Friday we booked into Princess Sarah's Palace. I actually wanted to review some notes I'd been given, but Matthew wanted to do it. Not just on her bed, but in her bed.

"When she comes back, the room's going to smell like sex," he said. "Your cum's going to be all over the sheets, and just before I come I'm going to pull out of you and spooge over one of her pillows."