Lauren's Tales

I wasn’t always so good at communication.

Over twenty years ago, I had a brief, torrid affair with a young waif I met during college. He was so much fun to fuck, yet he came so quietly that I could never tell if he had or not. I could think of no good way to bring up the subject.

The words were obvious. Yet I could not get them over my tongue and past my teeth. There were other questions I didn’t ask, at least not in time. “What do you want?” would have been a good one. Our break-up was sudden and depressing. I wrote some bad poetry. Continue reading »

Necessity is the mother of invention, but frustration benefits no one.

Due to medication, my mate’s erections are sometimes more torpid than turgid. Through patience and the liberal application of sensations, lubrication and firm hands, it is usually possible to summon a stiffie. But no technique is as important as consistency. He knew (and more importantly, his penis knew) that we’d be fucking every night. My hands, my mouth, and my pussy were always available. Thus he was perfectly happy to forbear from coming until we were together. His penis, no longer distracted by the differences between his hands and my parts, was much more responsive to my summoning spells.

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