October 26, 2010

A1, Subject2, Part Three

Wow. I finally have time to do a post. I know that A2 and I have been a bit lax lately, you'll have to forgive us. School and life is getting kind of crazy right now. But every girl still has time for sex, amirite? I am right.

So here we are again. Subject2. You delicious hunk of man meat. I hadn't slept with you in almost a week, you naughty boy!

We finally got to see each other again on Monday. We agreed to meet around one, and I texted him when I left. In response, I got what has got to be one of my favorite texts I've ever received: "Okay. I'm about to get in the shower. If I'm not out just come up to my room." Immediately wet. I confess, I broke the speed limit quite a few times on my way to his house.

When I get there I can hear the shower running. I let myself into his room, tap on the bathroom door to let him know I'm there, and climb into his bed. Even his bed is sexy. Even his room is sexy. Very earthy but with just a dash of modern rocker. It's hard to explain, but getting into his big fluffy bed, I was even more turned on.

He came out of the shower.

He laid down next to me. And then we had the best sex I have ever had in my entire life. Him kneeling before me with my legs slung over his shoulders. Him on top. Me on top. On and on and on into deliciousness. He took me from every angle. When I was riding him, I had the best orgasm I have ever had from sex, staring down into his blue eyes and feeling his hands on my breasts. We were scratching at each other, grabbing each other, pulling hair, moaning, kissing, biting- it was perfect. The perfect fuck. Normally I don't smoke, but this is a fuck that truly deserved a post coital cigarette. Satisfaction at its very finest, my friends.

Afterwards we lay on his couch, just enjoying each others company, occasionally stopping to make out, one of his hands drifting onto my chest- but nothing more. Just cuddling and soaking up the awesomeness of what had happened. Honestly I would have wanted to have another go before I left, but he... well... let's just say that the 30 second thing? No longer an issue. Poor thing was worn out.

October 25, 2010

A1, Subject3 (AGAIN!)

For those of you worried I'm getting stuck in a Subject3 tut, rest assured I am seeing and hopefully sexing Subject2 tomorrow.
I just had to drop on by and share this little tidbit with you: Subject3 claims to have never had an orgasm. I'm sorry, what? Yeah, you heard me right. Now, technically, this is because he differentiates between cumming and orgasming (his argument being that he doesn't feel any sense of relief afterwards). I don't know how I feel about that definition, especially since I've experienced the opposite- a feeling of relief without an orgasm. What say you, dear readers? Full of shit or valid argument? Discuss in comments.

Either way, I know what I'm giving him for his birthday!

October 20, 2010

A1, Subject3

Quick update on Mr. Subject3:
Saw each other again Monday night. We hung out at the pool he works out and then we went out to dinner. Went pretty well, I think. We then made our way to a party a friend of ours was throwing, where we basically cuddled and touched each other all night. Not like, grabby touching, but you know, gently stroking each other (he's so ticklish!). At the end he walked me out to my car and we made out and for the first time it wasn't totally awkward.

Hoorah for progress.

Date with Subject4 this weekend.

October 17, 2010

A1, Subject3

Are you ready for a tale of seduction, of skillful undressing, of sweaty, messy, wonderful sex that leaves the two of us tangled up and gasping for breath? Yeah, me too. Unfortunately, that's not what you're getting. Not today, readers.

Subject3. Gorgeous. Body of a Greek God. Tall, muscular, nice, wide swimmer's shoulders. Everytime I show his picture to a girl, they without fail emit a little gasp. Delicious in every single way. But it's weird. He looks like such a man, but acts like such a girl.

Well, that's not true. He acts like such a V-I-R-G-I-N. Because that's what he is. And not the kind of virgin where they've had anal and oral, but say they're saving the 'real thing' for the right girl (you think I'm making this up, but a LOT of my guy friends do that. It's the ultimate loophole.). And it's not that I have anything against virgins! I don't! Usually, in fact, I love virgins. Their stuttering, trembling ways make me melt and blush and want to teach them all my devilish, devious ways. But this boy! Maybe it's because he's so old for a virgin- he'll be twenty-one next week. I don't think it's a religious or a moral thing, either. He's trapped inside his own inexperience. It's a vicious cycle- he thinks there's a special reason he hasn't lost his treasured V-card, and that makes him more afraid to make a move, which makes it more unlikely he'll lose it, and then he'll think there's a special reason he hasn't lost it. Poor guy. And he's just so cute!  I just can't figure it out. Girls of the world, we have failed, because this boy hasn't gotten so much as a blowjob before.

He's a mess. Last night, he walked me out to my car after a party we were both leaving. I said, "Why don't we go to your car and then you can drive me over to mine?" That way, you see, we would be alone in an empty parking garage to kiss and touch and grind and... well, who knows. He says, "Oh no, I don't mind. Yours is closer, anyway." Hmmm. Okay. So he walks me to my car, lets me unlock it and get in it, and then bends down to kiss me. Once I'm in the car! And not a peck, okay, goodnight kiss. A makeout session while he's crouching down in the middle of the road and we're basically in public view. I murmur, "See, this is why we should have taken your car over." He goes, "Ohhhhh... well, I could get in the passenger's seat."

Really? REALLY?

Poor dumb nervous thing. He kisses me and his lips start to shake. His hands get jittery. Someone needs to break this boy in, and I think I could be just the girl for the job.

October 13, 2010

A1, Subject2, Part 2

Face: 7.5
Body: 9.5
Dick: 7
Skill: 7.5
(You'll notice that some of these have changed, because really, every time is different. Sex is so subjective.)
Bonus Points: Great hair, cool, musician. We mesh well, I think.
Let's talk some more about Subject2, shall we? I need to decompress this. Readers, be my therapist.
So we hung out again today. He came and picked me up and we drove back to his place. We sat on his couch and talked for a little bit and then... well,you know. We're attractive teenagers- we got naked. We undressed each other completely, stared at each other for about five seconds and then he just dove in. I was laying back on the couch, and he was standing over me off the couch, using his arms to prop himself up on the back of the couch. I wrapped my legs around his waist and I swear, a boy inside me has never felt better. His dick certainly isn't the biggest I've ever seen, but man, it fits inside me so well. Just feels incredible. And he makes me so wet. We fuck for a couple of minutes and he cums. Fast, again. Hm... But he explained that it's because he's not used to condomless sex. So I'm hoping maybe he'll last longer as he gets used to it.
Right now you're asking, 'A1, this sounds great! Why do you need a therapist? What's there to decompress?' Oh, I'm getting there.
We go outside (he smokes) and he starts telling me about this girl he used to date. I knew her a little bit in high school, so I'm listening, whatever, giving advice. Doesn't phase me much. But he keeps talking about her. I think he's still in love with her. Whatever, I get it. We all have that person. God knows I have my boy shaped baggage. And then, randomly, he tells me that me and one of his friends would make a good couple. What. The. Fuck.
It gets weirder. We go back inside and he starts treating me like a therapist. Like he's telling me about his dysfunctional family (and you heard it here first: it is fucked up), how he thinks he'll never be happy... Just all this really sad stuff about.. I don't know. It was just sad. I wanted to hug him. But I wasn't sure how to. I mean, I'm not his girlfriend, I don't know if you could really call us friends... I wasn't sure how he wanted me to react. So in the end I just kissed him on the cheek and said I was sorry. Just truly did not know what to do. Felt like my heart was breaking for this small skinny sad kid that I had kind of inadvertantly stumbled into a sexual relationship with.
And then we started kissing. Really softly and tenderly. Like not making out. Just... nice. I don't know.
And then we had sex. And in the spectrum of "fucking" and "making love" (whatever that means), I don't know where to place it. It was slower. We looked at each other. I said his name.

I confess: troubled boys? I love em. Can't get enough. Reality bites is like the story of my fucking life. Give me a boy with a dysfunctional family, substance abuse, and some significant baggage, and baby I'm yours. Where is this going? What is this? How am I fuck buddy working overtime as a therapist?

October 12, 2010

A2: Subject 2 - A Tale of Drunken Escapades and Shame

Face - 5/10
Body - 4/10
Skill - 8/10
Dick - 8/10
Bonus - Didn't kick me out of his house after I cock blocked him?

Alright, so, you can't judge me too much on this. I know that you can relate in SOME way. You begin a sexual act, justifying the act in your mind, but then there is a moment of enlightenment, and you realize that it is terribly, terribly wrong.
This, I am afraid, is what happened to me.

The whole incident was induced by my good friends Jager and Goldschlagger, whose company I enjoy, but often inspire me to indulge in less than lady-like behavior. Subject2 had invited me and a friend over to hang out, and we did just that: guitar hero, chatting, made dinner. Completely innocent. But then we cracked open some of the alcohol he had received for his 21st birthday, and it was all downhill from there.
I sat on his futon, drinking straight from the bottle, feeling myself slip into the warm, familiar buzz. My friend who had come with me got up and announced that she had to leave, because she had work in the morning.
Being that it was late, and I was too drunk to drive, Subject2 invited me to stay the night. Of course there was only his futon to share between the two of us.
So, I crawled into bed with him, slurring my words, and he dimmed the lights, putting a DVD on that was meant to be forgotten. It was just playful flirting, teasing. I knew that he found me sexually attractive; he had made a point to tell me once or twice before. I was wearing a dress, and I suppose that while rolling over in bed, it had ridden up, exposing my thong string. He saw it, and took the opportunity to snap it. Repeatedly.
Again. And again. And again.
Each time his fingers slipping a little bit more under my panty line. Too drunk, and too horny to really resist, I let it happen. He slipped his middle and index fingers under my panties, looked me in the eyes, and asked (yes, he ASKED), "may I?"
You just don't find chivalry like that anymore.
I replied, "Yes you may."
He took the invitation into my pants without a moment's hesitation, and I must say, I was not disappointed. He knew exactly what to do with his hands: what spots to hit, what motions to use, when to kiss me, when to pull my hair, and what to say. While this all sounds well and good, there's a few things you need to remember, readers: he's not a 10 by any means, we have the same circle of friends (and I do not wish for this to reach their ears), and I am only doing this because I am drunk.
It gets a little hot and heavier. I feel him pulling off my panties, and I hear him unzipping his pants. He pulls me closer to him, kissing me, and asks, "do you want to?"
I nod, not saying anything.
He leaves my side in bed, only for a moment, and I see in his hand a condom wrapper.
It was then the magnitude of the situation hit me. He starts to unwrap the package, and I say, "No. No, I can't do this. I don't want to do this."
I stand up, looking for my underwear, and stumble slightly.
"Seriously?" I hear him say from the bed, "Like, are you being completely serious right now?"
"I can't do this," I say again, still unable to find my missing thong.
I hear him sigh, zipping his pants back up, muttering incoherently. He then says, "You can't drive like that, though. You're going to have to stay here anyway?"
"Are you sure," I say in a slurred manner, sitting back down on the bed.
"Yeah, you can. It's fine. It's fucking fine."

So, points for him being pretty cool about the whole situation?

Conclusion: I would have never allowed this to happen if I were sober. I'm not attracted to him by any means. I am glad that he didn't kick me out of his house during the early mornings of the hours, even after I both teased and cock-blocked.
Never. Doing. It. Again.

October 11, 2010

A1, The Elephant in the Room

Slut.

Such an ugly word, isn't it? What does it mean to be called a slut, or to act slutty? More importantly, am I a slut?

Here's the thing: I was raised in a Catholic family and am in the process of converting to Judaism. So I think I know a thing or two about guilt. I have felt shame for things I have done, I have felt bad about my actions or thoughts. But I have truly never felt bad about sleeping with someone. Maybe my moral compass points south. Maybe I haven't read the Bible carefully enough. But to me, neither myself or A2 is a slut.

I know that every guy I've slept with- maybe not every guy I've made out with, but for sure, every guy I've slept with- is someone I knew really really well and cared a lot about. Maybe I didn't love some of them, especially in retrospect, but I have never drunkenly hooked up with a guy at a frat party. That's not just slutty, that's irresponsible.

But here's the real reason I don't feel bad afterwards and would never consider myself a slut. Sluts, to me, are sad, confused creatures. They are to be pitied. They don't know what they want, and are therefore at the mercy of the boys that want them. Being a slut is passive; it's something that happens to you. A slut is defined by the other people that will sleep with her. A slut has no power. Me? I have sex because I like it. I'm not looking for a daddy figure, I'm not looking for a husband. I have a good job and am enrolled in a good college. I am an active figure in my sex life; I pursue boys I find attractive, I have sex the way I like it. That to me, is not a slut- that's what men have been doing for years. And why shouldn't they? And why shouldn't I?

I'm not some lost wandering waif looking for shelter in a man's bed. I have my own bed, and I have no problem lying in it.

A2: Sorry I haven't been around much this week.

My professors decided to all assign copious amounts of work in the same week, and that's why you've been seeing a lot more of A1 lately.

Don't fret, though! I will be back soon with updates.

October 10, 2010

A1, Be on the lookout...

Just a quick weekend update to satisfy you readers:
Be on the lookout for:
Subject3. Tall, perfect body, athletic, smart. Cute as fuck and a good dancer. Black, huge pillowy lips. We made out after a concert we went to last Friday. It was... Well let's just say there's room for growth. Like I said, he has great lips, but our rhythms were just off, you know what I mean? But as we were kissing he lifted me up and pressed me against my car- just picked me up like it was nothing and went at it. THAT was totally hot. So we'll see.
Subject4. Coincedentally, a close friend and co-worker of A2's SubjectProject. He's cute, and talented. QUITE the little actor. So precious. We were supposed to hang out last night, but I kind of blew him off. I'll see him later this week and we'll just see how it goes. He calls me 'Gorgeous' like it's my name. I can work with that.

October 7, 2010

A1, Re: SubjectNoNumber

I tried you guys. I really did. I tried for the blog. I thought, you know, that since I've been able in the past to sleep with people I've found less than physically attractive but really liked otherwise, I would be able to do the opposite. I was wrong. I was so, so sickeningly wrong.
SubjectNoNumber will never get a number.
About a week ago, around the time I wrote "A Dilemma" I let him know he was under consideration. You know, so he would be on his best behavior. But I told him I hadn't decided yet and that he would have to give me a little bit of time, and that I would let him know. I specifically asked him if we could not talk about it. I told him all that on Friday. Here are the sickening texts I've gotten over the past week:
Friday:
"One other question about what we were talking about before, would it be a 1 time thing or have a possibility of conntinuing (sic) on?" I replied, it would depend if I liked it
"I'm confident that i can make you feel good"
"Sounds like a good plan to me. I'm going to fuck you right back. Just tell me when and where."
Saturday:
"Are you going to back in town on sunday night?" I replied no, and that I would set up the time.
Monday:
"If your (sic) serious about this fucking thing lets hurry this sucker up. No reason to wait." I replied, oh god, please shut up.
"I just thought of something. If you think its tiring talking to me, just you wait until were together doing our thing (no, I'm not kidding, he actually said doing our thing to me.) and then i'll really wear you out ;)"
"Good day to you mad'am (sic)."
Tuesday:
"I'm getting a futon on wednesday. Wanna help break it in with me?"

It's like someone handed him a book called, "Ways to Turn A1 Off" and he just went down the checklist. Bad grammar? Being pushy? Not following directions? Being cocky? Check, check, check, check. I'm sorry, dear readers. I couldn't do it, not even for you. I'll find another sacrificial lamb.
Left a bad taste in my mouth. He'd be one of those guys that would say his name during sex!

October 6, 2010

Side Note

In case any of you want to help us promote on facebook, here's a link to our official page:
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Double-Trouble/130992183620327?ref=search

A2: I'll just leave this here....




NOTE: This is not either A1 or A2. Just a random girl on the internet. SHOCKING.

October 5, 2010

A1: What I want, What I don't, What I love

(These series of posts are inspired by The Bride Stripped Bare, a book by Nikki Gemmell. I highly recommend it; it's really made me think about what I do and do not want from sex and men).

What I Want:
Hours of kissing. Soft light, enough to see the man's face. Not being afraid to give instructions. Oral sex, gentle and teasing and long. The man coming inside of me. Eye contact. Insistent grabbing. Feeling wanted. My name said as he comes. To orgasm while the man is inside of me. Hair gently pulled and stroked. Being held afterwards. My ass to be grabbed. For the fucking to not take too long. Attention paid to my breasts. Hand holding. Sighing and moaning. My neck to be kissed; my everything to be kissed. 

What I Don't Want:
Sex that is forced on me, that I feel obligated to do. Sixty-nining. Sex that lasts too long. The man saying his name. Being asked questions. Being forced on top. A bed that squeaks. A penis too big or too small. A man that rolls away afterwards. Touching my stomach. Not being able to see my partner. A man that seems distracted. To be slobbered on. A dick that lists too much to one side. Sex when I am not yet wet enough. My head to be pushed down to perform oral sex. Insufficient foreplay. Hickeys. A bossy partner. A partner that thinks he knows what I want, without asking.

What I Love:
The curve of the wrist. Chest hair, but not too much. Cleanliness. My name whispered in my ear. Anticipation. Teasing. Kissing while he's inside me. Being held. Sleeping naked afterwards. The feel of a dick entering me for the first time. The look in a man's eyes. The curve of the neck where it meets the shoulder. Men's hip bones. Scratching and clawing at his back. The line that goes down a man's stomach. A man staying inside me for a while after he comes; I like to savor the delicious feeling of him melting into me. 

A2: Subject(Project), Log 1

A2 here. As promised, today I'm updating on my "pet project."

Spent most of the weekend with Subject(Project).
I must admit, it wasn't terrible.

Sunday night I went to went to work with him upon his request. Most nights of the week he works with a ghost tour company. That's right. He dresses up in Victorian era clothing, and gives motherlicking ghost tours. On Sunday nights though, he delivers Chinese food for a restaurant not far from our university. So basically, "going to work" with him on Sunday night consisted of just riding in a car with him for four hours: drawing, smoking a joint or two, talking, and listening to music. Afterwards, he bought me dinner, and we took it back to his place. We ate on a bare mattress on the floor, off center against the orange backdrop of the wallpaper (I thought it would be a wonderful shot for some obscure Indie flick about life, love, and growing up). We watched cheesy 60's era zombie films, laughing the entire time of how ridiculous they were, while he pulled me close to him, running his fingers gently up and down my back.
It was nice. Sweet. Wholesome.

Yesterday I got lunch with him and some of his friends (all art majors, of course), and after I got out of my 6:30pm class, we met up again at the painting studio on campus.
He showed me the portrait that he had painted of me the month before that was now hanging up in the building. I can't say I wasn't pleased about taking the role of somebody's muse.
He introduced me to the rest of his little circle of artists, some of whom hit on me:
"Hey, I know you. You're the girl from that painting. I'm John, and it's a pleasure to meet you [A2]."
"John, don't hit on the models."
"She was a model. Is she modeling right now? No. That means she's fair game."
I cracked a smile, to be sure.
I spent the rest of the night watching them paint while I typed away an essay, all the while admiring his oil painting skills (hey, it's incredibly difficult!).

Today I met him after class. We sat outside, enjoying the crisp October air, while I watched him ink comics (and not just lame internet ones; he's a published comic book artist). We talked about this and that, subtly flirted with one another, and parted ways when he had to get going to his Advanced Drawing 2 class.

I'm updating this blog in the company of one of my closest friends and her boyfriend, waiting for him to meet us here. We're going out to sushi. We'll see where the night goes.

It's getting a lot easier picturing myself with him.
(I know A1 will disapprove)

October 4, 2010

A1, Oh no

Here's the dirty little secret I don't ever want anyone to find out.

I'm a romantic.

Did anyone hear that? Did you get that? Okay, shhh, keep it on the DL.
It's true. I walk the walk and talk the talk. I leave boys hanging, sleep around, and rant about how I love being single. And for the most part, it's true. I DO love being single. It's great. It's freeing and liberating and there is truly nothing I like more than having a great orgasm and then leaving. I love having the power for once, not waiting on the guy to call, not wondering where I stand. And for every girl out there that's reading this, I recommend it. Every girl should have some time off to figure out who they are and where they're going.

But man, sometimes I'll meet a boy and sleep with him. And just when I think I'm going to walk away whistling and carefree, something just happens. I trip up, and my romantic side gets a hold of me, and then I'm stuck.

Let's talk Subject2, shall we? I would love so dearly to just want him for his body. It's a great body. Fan fucking tastic. But now I'm worried there's something else. I blame him entirely: he's the one that said I'm one of the only girls he really enjoys talking to, he's the one that completely blew off his friends because he wanted to 'spend a lovely evening' with me, he's the one that kissed my nose and talked about how awesome our children would be.

I don't know if I like this feeling or not.

A2: Subject(Project)

A2 posting, and here's the deal:

Subject(Project) does not have a number because he actually shows potential to be a boyfriend (gasp!).
Funnily enough, he called me as I was typing up that first sentence wanting to go get lunch.
But I digress. 
Because he shows such potential, he has been given the title of "Project," as it will be ongoing research, and updates on what's going on between the two of us will be posted fairly regularly. 

Because I love lists, I'm going to present this case in bulleted form:


The Good:
  • We have wonderfully compatible personalities. The first date we went on, he took me out to coffee, and we spent four hours in that Starbucks, never running out of anything to talk about.
  • He's an artist. I'm an artist. 
  • Adores me. 
The Bad:
  •  Not exactly a 10. Big, bearded, and red headed. I find him cute, but he's not somebody you would see and want to jump his bones. 
  • No more blog posts. ):
  • Commitment is a terrifying concept to me. 

So, readers, expect to see more about my personal project in the future. 
It should be noted that except for snuggling up to watch movies, there has been no physical contact. 


A1, Where they've seduced and how

Where they've seduced, and how.

The backseats of too many cars. A house under construction. An art museum. Couches. A hot tub. On the beach. The kitchen of your shared workplace. Against walls. Sunny patches of earth tucked away. Movie theaters. Basements. Stairwells. Hallways. Secret places.

Roses. Songs half whispered and half sung. Poems. Marijuana, but it just made me paranoid. Beer. Movies put on and forgotten. Dancing. Text messages. Late night phone calls. Kissing my neck. Notes tucked inside of text books. Stroking my hair.

It always worked better when I believed it.

October 3, 2010

A1, Subject2

A1 reporting for duty.

Face: 7.5
Body: 10
Dick: 7
Skill: To be determined
Bonus points: knows what I like, talented musician, amazing kisser

So, Subject2. Where to begin? We've known each other for years. Since I was 11, actually. And like A2, my early years were not my best. Now, of course, I am a fiery ball of hotness and poise, but at age 11... well. Let's just say that an ear-legenth bob, glasses and braces didn't exactly work to make me a ten. Subject2, however, was as much of a rock star as a boy can be before he's really hit puberty. Validating my eleven year old self's crush was all Subject2 needed to get into my pants. And get into my pants he did.

I drove over to his house. He answered the door wearing a tee shirt and shorts. Oooh, my crush on him was still there after eight years. He led me into the TV room and put on a movie. It was relaxed! It was fun! We were kind of teasing each other back and forth, waiting for the other one to make the first move. He made it, kissing me gently on the lips at first and then more forcefully as I wrapped my legs around his waist. His hands moved all over my body, stroking, probing, grabbing. Masterful. We made out for most of the movie and then he invited me out to his hot tub. God, yes.

One problem. His parents were home. Yeah, talk about awkward. "Hi, my name is A1 and I'm here to sexually service your son. What a lovely home you have!"

We work our way out to the hot tub and turn off all the lights and start making out again furiously. He keeps lifting me up to suck and play with my nipples. My first boob guy, you guys! So exciting. He peeks inside his house and assures me his parents have gone to sleep, so it gets more intense. He starts fingering me in the hot tub. Impressive work, but I wouldn't expect anything less from a drummer, guitarist, bassist, and ukeleist (no, not kidding). He sits up on the edge of the hot tub and very politely asks me if I gave head. Gotta love a boy with manners. I respond in the affirmative, and set to work.

As a side note, I will admit to being one of those girls that actually really enjoys giving head. Some girls hate it. Some girls gag. Some girls don't like the taste. I am not one of those girls. Maybe it's a power thing, or maybe it's that I think that most cum tastes delicious. Sue me.

His moaning told me that what I was doing was definitely working. He pulls me up and turns me around, entering me from behind. Is there anything more thrilling than a new cock inside you for the first time? I will admit, the positioning was a little awkward, since I was basically in constant danger of falling face first into the hot tub. But then- disaster! He pushes me back down, pulling his swim trunks back on, and tells me his parents are apparantly still up. God, just like hooking up in middle school. I pull my bathing suit back on and we decide what we want to do.

"You still a bit of an exhibitionist?"

Hoo, lord. Forgive me, I am.

He leads me down to this neighborhood playground, which is hidden from the road for the most part. One of those, I can see you but you can't see me kind of deals. Such a turn on.

He had changed into shorts and a hoodie with no shirt underneath. I could see his abs underneath. I couldn't help myself, this boy was just too hot. We immediately pull each others clothes off. I sink down to the ground, blow him for a bit, and then lay down, my legs open in invitation. He stands above me for a split second, staring at me with this incredible hungry look in his eyes. Then he dives in. My back arches in pleasure and I wrap my legs around his waist. He moves in me for about thirty seconds and then sighs and whispers, "Oh, god, this is turning me on too much. I'm worried I'm going to come right now." There wasn't even enough time to put on a condom. He pulled out and came onto my stomach.

So. Thirty seconds. What to make of it? I mean, on the one hand I AM extremely attractive. And this sex fest has been in the works for years. And we had been fooling around for more than four hours. I'm going to chalk this one up to over stimulation over a prolonged period. After all, he did tell me I gave some of the best head he had ever had (the trick is to love what you do, ladies). So I'm going to give it another try at a later date and try to figure out what his skill level truly is. But for now...

Pros: incredibly hot, good mouth and hand action, great kisser, says all the things I wanna hear
Cons: over so fast. SO. FAST.

Final Verdict: 8
(This may seem unusually high, considering, but four hours of foreplay can do wonders to boost a guy's score. And the foreplay was perfect.)

A2: Subject1

Face - 8/10
Body- 8/10
Dick- 6/10 
Skill - 6/10
Bonus points: Got into Berkley for jazz guitar, cheated on his ex-gf with me, always willing to share his weed


So, Subject1 and I actually have quite a bit of history (skip over the small print if you want to read ahead):
We met when I was a sophomore in high school (he was a senior, oo la la). He was a complete babe: tall, charismatic, handsome, and sort of a rock star in the local music scene. Unfortunately, I was 5ft4, chubby, and awkward in every way when I was 15. For whatever reason, the stars aligned for us anyway, and we became friends over that course of that semester in physics, and have remained friends in the years since.
Never would I have guessed that we would amount to anything more than friends. 
It was two years later than we began hanging out a lot again. In those two years, I grew another inch, lost twenty-two lbs, and vastly improved in pretty much every other area you could think of. 
It was then, I believe, that he realized I was a girl. 
It was a very ordinary evening turned extraordinary that we had our first sexual encounter. We had smoked a bowl that afternoon, and were relaxing for a few hours in a coffee shop: talking, listening to music, etc. When it was time to leave, we loaded into my car, and as I blabbered away about the CD playing in my car, he put his hand around the back of my neck, pulled me in close, and kissed me on the lips. Softly at first, but when he realized I was more than willing, it became more intense. The windows fogged from our heaving breathing and making out, for it was a cold day in November. We decided to pull behind the building. I unzipped his pants, pulled out his dick, and in the classiest way I could muster, went down on him from the driver's seat. He enjoyed it, cumming into my mouth.
What made this entire episode much more interesting than your typical teenage parking lot hook-up was the fact that he had a girlfriend; one that he had been dating for two years. 

This led to a year of random hook-ups, make-outs, and a lot of hang-outs. 

Now that the back story's out of the way, let's get down to the juicy stuff.
Sex with Subject1 was inevitable. It had almost happened a few times before, but whether the reasons were personal, or because of the circumstances surrounding, we never had. The deed happened in my dorm room. My roommate was home (we have separate rooms, but the walls are very thin). It was classy. It started off like our other hook-ups: heavy making out, biting, clawing, ripping off clothes (we often leave with bruises). I went down on him. From his whispers and moans, I could tell he was loving it. I pulled out a condom from my drawer, holding it up with a coy smile. He rolled over, pushing me down onto the bed, and slid my pants off, throwing them onto the floor. He was deliberately slow pulling off my panties. He wanted me to want him even more. He kissed me softly, stealthily putting on the condom as he did so. Then, as he entered for the first time, he kissed me hard, pulling me up into his body. 

And then... disappointment. He just went straight for humping at lightning speed. No switching of positions. No variations in speed or motion. Just straight up humpty-dump. Points for taking the initiative to finger my clit the whole time though. It made it MUCH more enjoyable. He came inside of me. 


Pros: The foreplay was incredibly hot. He knows how to use his hands and his mouth in a variety of ways. FANTASTIC kisser.
Cons: Technique. 


Final verdict: 7/10 
Not horrible, not great. There were some definite pros, and some things that need improvement. Overall, a good experience, and certainly not our last. 

October 2, 2010

A2: Pregnancy Scares?

Hey, A2 here! So here's the deal:

Over the course of the last few years, A1 and I have sent and received our fair share of, “NOT PREGNANT” texts. This, of course, includes ones from outside our dynamic duo (we're not THAT bad with taking our pills). But, ladies, let's be honest – there's nothing quite like that feeling of relief when you see that little negative sign on the pee stick, or waking up one morning after a week of nail biting to find that Mother Nature has left a small gift.
So, girls (and hey, the fellas lurking around here too), tell us about YOUR pregnancy scare experiences. … Or your pregnancy experiences?  

October 1, 2010

A1, A Dilemma

Here is a dilemma that I'm sure many girls face every day: there is an attractive boy that you are repulsed by in every way but physically. SubjectNoNumber (who I have not slept with) is tall, dark haired, dark eyed, and has a killer body. Seriously, one of the hottest bods I've ever seen. It's just that his personality is atrocious. He is your sterotypical Italian male: bossy, pigheaded, convinced of his own hotness. Total turnoff. What to do? Put duct tape over his mouth while we do it? Leave immediately afterwards? Refrain from it entirely?

A1, Subject1

Basic Ratings:
Face: 7/10
Body: 6.5/10
Dick: 9/10
Skill: 8/10
Bonus points? Plays guitar, old friend

Subject1 and I actually lost our virginity to each other many years back, and only recently reconnected (no pun intended...). Last night we did it again. He started sexting me and I suggested I come over. He resisted for about five minutes and then relented. I made the trip in record time, smirking the whole time. He met me in front of his building and took me up to his room (being careful not to wake his roommate, who's obsessed with me) and immediately started tearing each other's clothes off. He propped me up on his desk and went down on me. That was just okay- 6/10 I'd say, because it felt like more of a formality and not something he actually wanted to do. He ordered me to get up on his bed and pounced on top of me, already very hard- points for the assertiveness. He fucked me hard, pushing his huge dick all the way in (I felt like I was going to faint. This boy's dick is at LEAST 10 inches.). I screamed and we heard his roommate cough next door, which made us giggle. After that, Subject1 kept his hand over my mouth.... Okay, I admit it, I liked it. We finished in about ten minutes, which is much faster than normal for him, but he had been warming himself up for about an hour, so I forgave it. He came inside me. Absolutely delicious.

Pros: Have I mentioned his dick? It's like a flesh ruler, and wide too. And for the most part he knows how to use it. He plays guitar and he's smart and very sexy to me.
Cons: Parts of it felt a little predictable. Not too much creativity, which is unlike him. He also didn't kiss me as much as I normally like. The oral sex was just so-so and I could tell his heart wasn't really in it.

Final Verdict: 6.5/10, which is disappointing because I know he can do better.

The Rules

The title of the entry will mark whether it is A1 or A2 telling the story, and the subject number. We will each have seperate subject numbers, obviously A1's Subject4 is a different boy than A2's Subject4.

Each entry will start with four basic catagories: face, body, dick, and skill. Each category is to be judged out of a scale of ten and will be judged seperately from one another. These ratings will obviously be subjective, especially since there are two of us. There will then be another category called "Bonus Points" in which we will list anything that added to our enjoyment of the experience.

We will then tell our account of the hookup, making sure to include any amusing anecdotes or anything that made it more memorable. This will be follwed by a quick list of pros and cons.

We will close with a final overall rating out of ten. This is our Final Verdict.

Who we are

The first thing you need to know is that there are two of us, hence the name Double Trouble.
We are best friends, who, after a long period of unsatisfying realtionships, have decided to take a year off to be as slutty and scandalous as possible. We will record our experiences here for your titallation and enjoyment. We will refer to ourselves as A1 and A2.

A1 attends a private school in the south and is a little older than A2. Her hobbies include seducing virgins, being bitchy, and drinking like a fish.

A2 attends a public school, also in the south. Her hobbies include painting her lips a shade of red called Sexually Availble, man eating, and skinny dipping.

We are both smart as hell, physically desirable, and both have D cup or larger breasts.
Enjoy.

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?

Subscribe to Posts [Atom]