Who am I?

Dan is at home a lot. He’s getting on my nerves.

He keeps saying really irritating stuff like, “Where are my brown suede boots? Why isn’t my pink striped shirt ironed?”

I’m quite glad that he is heading off on his next project in Tokyo, tomorrow.

Once he is gone I can breathe again. I can be myself again.

The problem is, I don’t know who I am anymore.

I'm not the girl I used to be

Dan came back from New York on Thursday. We had a few hot fucks and he was elated that I am cured of my kleptomania. But now he is restless. He wanted me to go out with him last night to some erotic party and sleep with some pretty young girl.

I don’t want to go. I’m perfectly happy to just stay in and watch a movie.

In the end, we agree that he would go by himself.

This morning, as I watched him over breakfast, I could tell something had changed. He doesn’t like me much any more. The woman who had an anything goes attitude to sex has become dull, boring.

“How was your night?” I ask, scalding my tongue on the coffee.

“Exhausting, you know. There was one woman in particular. I watched her take on two men and a woman at the same time. She just loved it.”

I know what he is thinking. She is everything you used to be.

Don’t say it Dan.

Just don’t.

Sugasm #55

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Take this longing from my tongue

In the early hours of the morning, I received a call from Boris. He said he was sorry he hadn’t been in touch, but that he’d had a lot of business to attend to. He said he’d been thinking about me a lot, and felt he had neglected me. That from now on he’d try and be more attentive.

“Maybe it’s time I let you into my world a little.”

Once it would have been what I wanted. Boris softening, opening up towards me. Showing me something approximating love.

And yet, it isn’t. Look, I know Boris is a criminal. Oh he’s nice enough to me, but sometimes he shuts off, into himself, his eyes grow dark, and I can sense that inside him there is a place that is dark and rotten, like the core of a tree that is dead, even while its branches shoot out leaves. Plus there have been occasional urgent phonecalls. I know that whatever business he’s involved in isn’t one I want to know about.

“No Boris,” I say. “I don’t want you to bring me into your world. I’ve changed. I’m no longer stealing things.”

“How did that happen?”

“Dr Butler effected a cure.”

“Congratulations. So what do you want? For things to stay the same? You want to continue knowing nothing about me?”

“No Boris. The party’s over. Let’s not spoil it.”

“Do you want to think about it?” He sounds hurt. Good. I am pleased that I affect him, even in such a small way.

“No. Let's leave it like this.”

While the dawn fills the room with a grey-yellow light, I remember. The dozens of permutations, flesh upon flesh, Boris’s body bisecting mine. Yes, he gave me pleasure. But its all become too much somehow. My body no longer cries out to be touched, filled, caressed.

It just wants to be left alone.

Or maybe there is just one touch it craves.

Dr Butler's fingers, tentatively exploring between my legs.

In my mind I hear the whispers in the night, of two desperate women, locked into each other's arms.

If Dan does not come back from his trip soon, I will almost have forgotten I have a husband.

A cure for kleptomania?

Last week, I went for my appointment with Dr Butler, but she had disappeared. Gone off on sick leave, I was told. Cracked up, more like.

They had a substitute in called Dr Grayson, smooth and businesslike, but I didn’t warm to him.

Then today, after I taught a class in the West End, I took a stroll around Regent’s Park. I saw a figure walking in front of me that looked familiar. Surprisingly, it was Dr Butler. She was wearing a Burberry coat, her straw coloured hair loose around her shoulders.

“Dr Butler?” I said, tapping her shoulder.

“Oh, hello Jane,” she said, looking startled. She was pale and drawn, like she hadn’t been sleeping.

We walked along for a while, a little awkwardly, beside the boating pond. The air was fresh, chill, but exhilarating.

“When are you coming back to the clinic? I don’t like Dr Grayson.”

“Oh, Dr Grayson’s probably a lot more qualified to deal with your case than I am.”

“I prefer you.”

“I know you do. I think you’ve formed an attachment to me.”

“I can’t deny I find you very attractive.”

“That’s just your way, you sexualize everyone, so that you can be in control. You think everyone desires you.”

“Well, don’t they?” I can’t help the cocky edge from creeping into my voice.

“In any case. That’s not what I meant. There are a few things going on in my personal life. I needed some space. If you want me to be honest..."

"Yes?"

"I’m beginning to think you might be a hopeless case.” She was put her index finger in her mouth, and pulled at her cuticles, which I noticed were ragged.

“I don't know about that.”

“Well, do you actually want to stop stealing?”

“Of course I do.”

“All right.” She nodded. “Let’s try something. Let’s go to Selfridges and see if I can help you get rid of this impulse once and for all.”

I agreed. We left the park and took a taxi to Selfridges.

As we stood outside the store, she said, “When you get the urge to steal, tell me, and I’ll try and talk you out of it.”

“Once I see something I want, I can’t control myself,” I said, staring at the patch of bare cleavage that was peeking out from behind her silk blouse.

She reddened, closed her coat. “You’ll be able to, I promise.”

I followed her in, and we walked through the handbag selection. She walked behind me, staring ahead.

At first I thought that just her being here would inhibit the stealing impulse. That it would be like having one’s mother or a teacher there, knowing I would get the telling off of my life if I dared to lift anything.

But then the familiar prickling started in my fingertips. I had my big Louis Vuitton handbag with me. How easy it would be, I thought, to just slip a slim crocodile leather purse into it.

The thrill returned with a whoosh. I felt like I was travelling up on a very fast elevator. My head felt light and hollow. My hand was grazing the leather.

“No.” A voice, her voice. Her breath on my neck. My nipples stiffened. “Tell yourself, I don’t want that. I can survive without it.”

My hand hovered over the purse. The prickling stopped. I felt sick to the stomach.

I felt the vomit rise up inside me. I ran to the toilet and threw up.

When I came out of the stall, Dr Butler was standing there, smiling.

“I think it might have worked,” she said.

“I think so too.”

“In that case, don’t come to any more sessions. And please don’t contact me.”

With that, she strode out the door.

I stared at my face in the mirror.

Could it have worked?

Could it?

Sugasm #54

This week’s best of the sex blogs from the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasmer participants.

Want in Sugasm #55? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the linklist within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks

My Response to The Government’s Pushing of Celibacy on Adults! (http://totalsensuality.blogspot.com)

Flying in the Face of Censorship (http://www.suzanneportnoy.com)

Life as an Adult Cam Worker (http://www.model-chat.com)

Mr. Sugasm Himself

Our fearless leader promises he will leave the marathon orgy and be back to blogging soon. In the meantime enjoy one from the vault.

3 Porn Based Urban Legends (http://sugarbank.com)

Editors’ Choice

Home Run (http://junohenry.wordpress.com)

Sex News, Reviews & Interviews

An Audience with… David Pierson Part 1 (http://leiaannwoods.blogspot.com)

Everything To Do With Sex (video) (http://www.seskuality.com)

The Harlot and the Painter (http://adelehaze.com)

Sexy Interview - Rubberella (http://shayssexcolumn.blogspot.com)

Silicone Beaded Matador Cock Ring Review (http://stilettodiaries.blogspot.com)

Venus Berlin Show Report - Fucking Machines (http://sextoysinsider.com)

Welcome to “Sex Blogger Community” (http://sexblogwelcome.blogspot.com)

Erotic Writing and Experiences

The Cabin, Part II (http://www.betweensheets.net)

Early Masturbation Experiences (http://wanklog.blogspot.com)

Fun in the Bahamas (http://wantonyou.blogspot.com)

Hopeless, Irresistible Lust (http://perverselypoly.blogspot.com)

I Haven’t Come in Days (http://sexcakes.blogspot.com)

Lipstick On Your… What? (http://hard-and-fast.blogspot.com)

Nikki (http://baring.blogspot.com)

Piano Girl I (http://aliceinawonderbra.blogspot.com)

Restless (http://nocloudnine.blogspot.com)

Story 2 - Stressed (http://dareuu.blogspot.com)

Too Sick to Fuck (http://sabrinainstockings.com)

Toy Tuesday: Plug (http://mypinktaco.blogspot.com)

Sex & Politics

US Government Preaches Abstinence to Adults (http://www.tarasnaughtyshop.com)

BDSM and Fetish

Bad Kitty (http://wetbeyondbelief.blogspot.com)

Bitch in Heat (http://everythingoze.blogspot.com)

I Like Big Butts (And Petite Posteriors) (http://pandorablake.blogspot.com)

Late-Breaking Newsflash: Katie Spades Given a Hand-spanking For Cheek (http://spankingkatiespades.blogspot.com)

A Nawty Story: Kitten Fibbed (http://anawtymouz.blogspot.com)

Slave sex, a lesson learned too well (http://bratmaster.co.uk)

Thou Shalt Not Touch Thy Students (http://spankingwriters.com/blog)

NSFW Pics (& video)

Half-Nekkid Posterized! (http://beyondyouandme.blogspot.com)

Happy HNT - Stadium Flash (http://darkside-journey.blogspot.com)

Featured DDGirls Covergirl Sasha Grey (http://www.ddgirlsblog.com)

Karina (http://povfuck.ilovejulienight.com)

Mea-Culpa Erotic Nudes (http://eroticandy.blogspot.com)

Mistress Xena in Purple Boots (video) (http://www.thebootcam.com)

Rub it the Right Way (video) (http://myhotbox.blogspot.com)

Vote (http://melanaise.blogspot.com)

Thoughts on Sex and Relationships

Bloggin’ Naked on a Pink Slip. (http://texasspitfire.blogspot.com)

Do I Stay or Do I Go? (http://edenfantasys.livejournal.com)

The Joy Of Sharing? (http://secretlifeofaman.blogspot.com)

Water Works (http://femmefataleteen.blogspot.com)

Wired (http://gentlygently.blogspot.com)

Sex Humor

Cock Rock Travelogue (http://secretbrain.blogspot.com)

Mismatched Whores: Time, Time, Time (http://radicalvixen.com/blog)

Sex History

The Conception of Trojan Condoms (http://www.taratainton.com)

Retro Raw: The Best of Amber Lynn (http://retrosexblog.com)

Her pussy tasted of latex

Last Monday, Boris phoned me out of the blue and said he wanted me to go on a trip with him. I said I couldn’t, that I had my classes to teach. I told him I couldn’t wreck my whole job, just to go on a little jaunt with him.

Despite how I knew how little he likes me to talk this way I said, “Who do you think you are, just turning up like this and demanding I go away with you?”

“I don’t demand it, I just know you would enjoy it.”

You fucking bastard. That’s what I thought. Then I phoned up the YMCA and cleared my schedule for the week.

“Where are we going?” I said when I met him at Heathrow that afternoon.

“You will see.”

Turns out it was Prague.

I returned from my jaunt on Thursday night. I hardly slept while we were there, and it was hard to stay awake during my Friday session with Dr Butler.

“Do you still have that dream, you know, the one about the butterlies?” she asked.

“Yes, occasionally.”

“You really loved your father, didn’t you?”

“Yes. I can’t imagine any man being able to replace him.”

“So you go from man to man, looking for your dead father?”

“Yes, I suppose so.” At last she’s getting me. I know all that, though. It doesn’t stop the fact that sometimes I feel like I am trapped in a white box, gasping for air.

“Is Boris like your father?”

“My father didn’t demand anything of me. Also, my father was hardly ever there. When he returned from his trips, he lavished me with presents.”

“Have you seen Boris recently?”

“Yeah, I went away with him for a few days.”

“What did you do?” She’s sucking her pencil, obviously gagging for some juicy details.

“What do you think we did?”

“I can’t imagine.” Her tone is, well, it’s almost flirtatious.

“Let’s see, I tell her. There was one night where I was in bed with three other men (one of them was Boris). I was astride one man, his cock inside me, the other had his cock up my arse, while I sucked the third man off. It was almost a spiritual experience, I felt so filled up and sated. I could have stayed like that for ever.”

“You talk about sex as if it were a religion.”

“It is a religion. People think it’s about people using people for their own gratification. But in a purely sexual encounter, you don’t ask for anything, only that someone gives of himself sexually. And when it is about getting pleasure, giving pleasure, an energy starts to flow. A healing energy. It’s hard to explain, unless you’ve ever done it yourself.” I look up at her and smile. “I assume you haven’t?”

“We’re not here to talk about me.”

“I know that. I just wondered if you could relate.”

She shifts uncomfortably in her chair.

“What else happened in Prague?”

“There were lots of drugs about, but I don’t take drugs, that’s one thing I won’t do. There was a lot of laugher, a lot of dinners. There was a session in a dungeon where we all dressed in black leather and whipped each other. And then, I don’t know. All the different sex parties have become blurred. It ended up being too much sex for me to handle.

“One night Boris picked up a prostitute and paid her to have sex with me. That didn’t really do it for me. She knew all the tricks all right, she was panting, like she was pretending to have a good time. But it was all a fake. How do men fall for it? I knew she wasn’t enjoying herself, wasn’t into it, so in the end, I just concentrated on giving her pleasure.

“I ran my tongue over her clit, ever so gently. She tasted of latex. I wondered how many men she’d fucked that night. I prized open the lips of her pussy and pushed my mouth in and sucked the whole thing up, like prizing open a juicy mango. Oh, it was so good! I feel turned on just thinking about it. I pushed two fingers up her arse and moved my fingers rhythmically until I felt the faintest tremor.

“I looked up at her, splayed on the bed. Boris was watching us from the corner. He was so quiet, you wouldn’t even know he was there. She was really getting into it, bucking against my mouth as I pushed a finger into her pussy and rubbed her front wall in tiny circular movements, harder and harder.

“She moaned something in Czech, I reckon it was something like, You Bitch, and I moved on top of her and ground my crotch against her wet, splayed pussy. We just rubbed and rubbed. I knew it wouldn’t get her off, I just enjoyed the sensation of our cunts grinding together, all slippery wet and causing little lightening bolts of pleasure to pulse through my clit. Then I sucked her nipples, they were big and deep red, on large, firm breasts. I was enjoying myself. I felt just like a man, somehow. Boris sensed this, I guess. In any case, without me saying a thing, Boris came up behind me and fitted a strap on around my hips.

“The prostitute opened her eyes wide, with shock, but I told her to relax, and lifting her legs onto my shouders I pushed the big black rubber dildo deep inside of her. Mmm, it was so exciting, watching her pleasure reflected on her face. I could have stayed there forever. But it looked like she was dying to come, so I fucked her, moving the dildo in and out of her pussy in slow strokes. Then I stood up at the foot of the bed, and rubbed her clit as I fucked her hard. Once. Twice. She was done.”

Once I’d finished the tale, I looked over at Dr Butler. Her mouth was slack. Her eyes were glazed. Oh yes, that little bitch was definitely turned on.

“I think we’ve run out of time,” she eventually managed.

You should be paying me, you silly cow. I could just imagine how, as soon as I left, she went off to the toilets to wank herself off.

And I’m meant to be the repressed one! I was laughing about it all the way home.

Who’s a Naughty Girl Then?

Today, a visit to Dr Butler’s.

She is sitting there, her skirt ruched a little higher than usual. Can I see, stocking tops? Or has my erotic imagination simply gone out of control?

It was be so tempting to just go up to her, to kneel before her, push up her skirt and put my head between her legs. Easy, apart from the fact that she would probably press some rape alarm she has hidden beneath the soft pale cream pillows of her armchair.

So naturally, I sit tight and pretend to be carefully thinking over her question rather than what her cunt would feel like under my tongue.

“Any stealing over the past week?” she says, tapping her pen against her teeth. A flicker of red tongue. What is it about her? Girls don’t usually affect me like this. She’s just so emotionless, and yet, who is that cold? Beneath the façade, the way she keeps herself so well in check, there is bound to be a hot, wet centre, bleeding to be loved.

I consider the question. Should I lie? No, I think, Dr Butler will see right through me.

“There was an occasion,” I say, looking down at my hands, pretending to be contrite. I think this is what she expects. “It was in a small boutique. I hardly noticed I was doing it. A pair of gloves. And when I noticed they were in my bag I wanted to put them back on the shelf, but didn’t dare, because that would have drawn more attention to my crime.

She questions me about my motivations. Why do I do it? Who knows. I know I need to be punished. But Boris has disappeared and I don’t know if he'll ever return. If only, if only, Dr Butler could just put me over her lap and smack me. Although I don’t think that would actually stop me stealing, although I think it would get me off. In fact I know it would.

“I’ve been having sexual fantasies about you,” I blurt.

Is that, a flush on her neck? I told you, inside she’s a seething mass of sexual energy.

She quickly regains her composure, pulls the skirt down over her knees.

“What kind of sexual fantasies?”

“Oh, mostly me spanking you and you spanking me.”

Does she realize she’s got the pen in her mouth and is sucking on it? I stare at the pen and she quickly removes it, blushes again.

“Do you want me to tell you about it?”

She shifts uncomfortably, picks up a notebook from the table beside her.

“Go ahead.”

“Well, for example, just now, I was thinking how nice it would be if you pulled down my panties and gave me a good spanking.”

“I see. And as a child, were you often spanked?”

“This has nothing to do with my childhood.”

“I’ll draw my own conclusions, thank you,” she snaps. “You’re missing Boris, aren’t you?”

“Maybe. But I know he might never come back. Whereas you, I know you’ll always be here, or at least until you’ve cured me.”

“Nobody can cure you. It was to come from you. Now, let’s talk about these fantasies.”

“Well, often I’ll daydream of spanking you and punishing you, and then of Boris and me using you as a sex toy.” I tell her all about it, going into graphic detail. She scribbles something on her pad.

“Maybe it would help,” I say, “if you really did spank me.”

She laughs. “Don’t you think that’s just a little bit unconventional?”

“I don’t know. You could pull down my panties and finger me a bit until I started to come, and then spank me real hard. Then the association between punishment and pleasure would be hotwired into my brain. Maybe it would even make me stop stealing.”

She stares at me, doesn’t say a thing.

“Do you know what I think?” she says eventually.

“No, what?”

“That you’re even more damaged than I originally thought." She looks at her watch, relieved. "And it looks as though our time today has run out.”

Oh well, it was worth a try.