Risqué Abstracts #29
May 14, 2008 | Category: Erotica, Risqué Abstracts, Sexblogs | 1 Comment
~This is so agonising. I want to give you my cock, my fingers, my lips, my tongue. I want to pour my lust and desire into you, over you.
I’m touching myself now. I have to.
~Over your panties?
Yes. They’re soaked already.
~How easily could you slip two fingers inside yourself?
So easily. Is that what you want me to do?
~Yes.
Oh, my cunt feels so wet … so warm and soft. My clitoris is swollen and achy.
~Make your clitoris wet with your juices.
Oh, fuck! It feels so beautiful. I want you to fuck me, to make love to me. I want to come all over you.
~Yes, I want you to come all over my cock, to soak me in your sweet juices.
I would make you so wet.
~Ease your lips open with one hand, and then slowly - slowly - circle your clitoris with one finger of your other hand. Don’t touch your clitoris. Just circle it slowly. How does it feel?
It feels wonderful. God, I wish you were here.
~I do too. So that I could flicker my tongue across the top of your clit as you circle it with your fingers. So that I could rub my cockhead against your cunt lips, and your clit. So that I could ease your panties to one side, and press my cock inside you as you caressed yourself.
So that I could kiss you and taste myself on your mouth as you slowly fucked me.
~Yes….
1 Comment | Permalink
Sugasm #131
May 14, 2008 | Category: Sexblogs, Sugasm | Leave a Comment
The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them…
This Week’s Picks
Kink
“A bill outlawing the possession of “extreme pornography” is set to become law next week.”
M is for Mine
“You comment on my wetness.”
The Story Behind the Waxing
“I tend to go to people that I trust really know what they are doing when it comes to my pussy.”
Mr. Sugasm Himself
Keeley Hazell Regrets
Editor’s Choice
The sadistic impulse
Thoughts on Sex and Relationships
Being the Receiver…
Desperate boy.
A Parity of Madams and Whores
Trapped
You say trannyboifag, I say trannyboifag
Sex Work
At Least My Vibrators Don’t Judge Me
Sex Worker Solidarity: Gracie
Erotic Writing and Experiences
Blowjob in the showers
Clarity
Drunk and horny
Flash #1 - Greedy
Two Minutes and 52 Seconds
Unicorn Sighting
Sex & Politics
Um. Pornography is in focus?
NSFW Pics, Videos & Audio
Another Gratuitous Picture Post
Back with HNT!
Half-Nekkid at the Beach
Lilaceous
Mirror Mirror
Monica - Drop On Jacuzzy
Pornsaint Kylie Ireland
Strange Sex Fantasies
Teen bobs on Ron Jeremy’s cock
Video: Long Distance Lovemaking
Sex News, Reviews & Interviews
If You Were a Sex Toy, What Would You Be?
My IMsL 2008 Trip – Part 4
The Sexiest Form You Might Ever Fill Out
Shall We Play A Game?
Catalina loves Melvin Moten, Jr.
BDSM & Fetish
Cerebral Trainee Subject: Susan
A day of torment (pt 2)
Dining Table Punishment Spanking
Dionysian Tales
Harmony Rose Is Dominated On The Training Of O
Other World Kingdom visit - Part 4
Submissive Little Darling
The Submissive Male Construct and Nice Guys
Weighty Matters
Sex Advice
A Little Lesson on Figging…
Sex Dates for Parents
Vaginal Fisting: What It Is and How to Do It
See also: Fleshbot’s Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday.
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Clarity
May 4, 2008 | Category: Erotica, Sexblogs | 48 Comments
I haven’t misunderstood you, have I?
You said you were greedy to take my hard cock in your mouth, to hear my groans as you circled my glans with your tongue, sucking me slowly, quickly, gently, firmly, until I erupted, hot and hard, for you to taste every last drop of me. But didn’t you also say that you’d like to make a mess too? That you’d like to take me from your mouth before the moment critique, stroke me until my seed pulsed across your skin for you to play with, massaging it into your breasts, circling your nipples with my come?
You ought to know: the prospect of being witness to that makes me so fucking hard. I wonder: would you raise your breasts to your mouth in turn so that you could lap my come from your nipples? I think that would make my cock begin to tremble afresh, even though I was only just spent.
I relish the idea of you being carried away by your thoughts when you’re meant to be concentrating on work. Sitting here, I imagine you being unable to resist disappearing from the office, finding somewhere secluded, so that you can slip your hand beneath your skirt and cup your sex tightly. If you were to do that right now, what would you feel? The dampness of your panties? The heat of your cunt? The very pulse of your lust? I picture you actually slipping your panties off, so that you can feel the cool air against your intimate flesh, the decadence of the act combining with the delicious sensations to arouse you even more, making you even wetter.
I like the thought of you wet.
I’m growing hard again, thinking about you at your desk, inching your skirt up, trailing your fingernails along your inner thighs and over the lips of your unveiled sex. It’s so easy for me to picture you easing yourself open so that you can run a finger up through your moist cleft, using that glistening wetness gathering there to glide the pad of your finger across your clitoris again and again and again.
I’m very hard now. So hard, I’ve had to unzip myself, stroke myself. I couldn’t resist any longer. I’m aching for your touch.
Would you like to have me between your open thighs right now? Would you like to watch me drawing my cockhead slowly up and down your cleft, stroking the tip very lightly, very deliberately across your swollen clitoris? Could you orgasm like that? If I surrendered control to you, pressed your fingers into place around my thick shaft? Could you use me like that for your own pleasure?
Close your eyes. Imagine. Can you feel me now? My hard cock wrapped in your hand, my smooth glans slipping back and forth across your aching clitoris, slowly at first as your passion mounts, then faster and faster and faster, as fast as you need it, until you explode, implode, gasping, crying out as the waves of pleasure splash over you, through you? And then what? Would you draw my cockhead downwards through the warmth of your soaking flesh, then pull me forward, pull me inside you, into the heart of your velvet heat? Would you whisper to me to thrust into you long and slow? Or would you demand, beg, scream out for me to fuck you hard and fast, frantically, savagely?
And once I’ve pleasured you enough? Once I’ve fucked the craving inside you silent, at least for a little time. What then? Do you want to feel my cock throbbing inside you, my seed erupting against your womb? Or would you prefer me to withdraw so that you can see? See my hard cock, slick and shining with your juices, see my climax, each pulse of come splashing against your naked cunt?
So tell me your desire, whatever it is. Be coy or be explicit. Be as crude and licentious as your passions demand of you. I yearn for clarity.
48 Comments | Permalink
Tags: Fellatio
Sugasm #130
May 4, 2008 | Category: Sexblogs, Sugasm | Leave a Comment
The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them…
This Week’s Picks
Gross Spelling Errors Turn Me Off
“Here are a few other word issues that come up in sex writing that throw me off and drive me crazy.”
L’Artiste
“I want time to sip my whisky, to drink you in as you unveil yourself, as you offer your body to my steady gaze.”
Learning My Limits (Part 1)
“It hurts. It’s gorgeous. ”
Mr. Sugasm Himself
24-Months of AVN Online, $0
Editor’s Choice
The Few, The Proud, The Pornless
See also: Fleshbot’s Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday.
Leave a Comment | Permalink
And the votes are in…
May 2, 2008 | Category: News, Sexblogs | 9 Comments
The first ever EA poll has now closed. Of those who were good enough to answer the question “Would you be willing to pay for a paperback version of ‘Easily Aroused’?”, the results were as follows:
Yes: 89% (196 votes)
No: 11% (23 votes)
My thanks to all those who participated.
Of course, posting the results is something of a moot point, since the paperback version of EA has been available to buy for just over a week now.
Now, I’m pretty certain that 23 of those 219 voters won’t be going anywhere near Lulu.com to order their copies. And I know that a few of the 196 ‘yay sayers’ have already taken delivery of their copies. But how about the rest of you? C’mon you teases. Click on the banner below. Don’t keep me waiting… 
(Addendum: you can buy the paperback or the download in either Dollars, Euros or Sterling. Just make the appropriate selection from the drop down boxes in the bottom right corner of the Lulu site)
9 Comments | Permalink
Tags: Compulsive Ardour, Lulu.com, Paperback
L’Artiste
April 28, 2008 | Category: Erotica, News, Sexblogs | 39 Comments
I want to paint you. Not as you might think though. No, not in the traditional sense.
Why should we be slaves to convention?
I’ve no canvas on which to daub your likeness in oils, no sketch book to cast your water-coloured features upon.
All I have is a medley of brushes with which to capture your soul.
I need you naked first, though. Will you undress for me? Please – do it slowly. Doucement. I want time to sip my whisky, to drink you in as you unveil yourself, as you offer your body to my steady gaze.
Lie down, here, upon this firm mattress, atop this crisp Egyptian cotton sheet. Enjoy its cool tautness against your skin. Relax. Feel my warmth pass to you as I take your hand, as I stroke your arm. Look into my eyes. Breathe deeply, languidly. Let go.
__________________________
He raises the first brush so that she can see it too. It looks as though someone has sliced its top away with a brilliantly sharp blade. The flat end looks precise.
“This is a one-stroke brush,” he tells her in his deep, calm voice. “I sometimes use it for washing over backgrounds, for painting skies on landscapes.” He draws the soft bristles slowly over the gentle undulations of her belly, along the tops of her closest thigh. The caress of the bristles is unbelievably soft, devilishly ticklish.
“The bristles are Kolinsky Sable. The very best.” He smiles at her. “Tell me how they feel.”
He’s reached her knee, continues down along the outside of her calf.
“They feel … wonderful,” she whispers, entranced by the delicacy of his strokes. “So light. So … graceful.”
He moves back along her body, switching his attentions from outside to in, drawing the brush along the inside of her thigh. She tries to still her trembling and fails, gasping aloud as the brush slips into the narrow crease between her thigh and her sex. He skirts the plump flesh with such cunning, she actually fancies that she hears the bristles tangling lightly with her own intimate tresses.
He pauses, lifting up a small porcelain bowl. He dips the brush within; when it withdraws, the bristles glisten, and a thin line of viscous dew descends from its tip.
“Warm oil,” he says, pressing the brush back to her flesh. She sighs contentedly as he paints seemingly random tracks across her belly, her breasts. He coats her nipples with languorous circles until they glisten, until they’re hard and proud; begging to be licked and sucked, squeezed between thumb and forefinger, gnawed upon by keen, knowing teeth. She yearns to see him press his cockhead to each peak of marbled desire, squeezing and stroking his thick shaft until his own gleaming oil is dispensed upon her, until she can cup her breast and lift it to her mouth, and then greedily lap his seed from her flesh.
The thought makes her shudder. She looks down at her naked, glistening body, and realises that he has painted the words ‘desirable whore’ upon her torso.
“Oh fuck,” she whispers.
He moves so that he is kneeling beside her head. She watches transfixed as he draws the zip on his trousers downwards. He’s naked underneath, and his cock, thick and hard and deliciously curved, is easily drawn out into the light.
“Suck me,” he tells her. “Paint me with your lips, with your tongue.”
She needs no second invitation. She grasps his shaft, marvelling at its rigidity as she guides it towards her open mouth. Her tongue laps out, relishing the vaguely salty, aromatic taste. As his glans slips over her tongue, she feels the brush tracing the outside of her sex, drawing gleaming paths of oil down over her labia, and then up through her cleft. She cries out around his hard flesh as the soft bristles flicker across her aching clit.
“You like that,” he chuckles, doing it to her again, and again, and again. Eventually, she has to ease his cock from her mouth so that she can draw enough breath to keep pace with her racing heart.
“That’s so delicious,” she gasps, and then she draws his cock back inside her avid mouth. She works his foreskin with a fluid grace, bringing forth a heavy drop of precum onto her tongue, which she swallows greedily, gratefully. The artist’s brush slips between her swollen lips, pressing into the stifling heat of her sex, the bristles now heavy with her own secret oils. Then the brush is withdrawn, only to be replaced by his strong, knowing fingers. He opens her with two fingers, a third raking up through the now-sodden valley. The pads of two fingers circle over her clitoris, and then they’re slipping inside her, fucking her, curling up against the front wall of her cunt, stroking firmly until she thinks she’s going to lose control of herself, void herself all over his palm. And then with hardly any warning, she’s coming, hard, so fucking hard, her insides flipping over, inside out, the waves of pleasure crashing into her, over her, through her, and she cries out again around his hard flesh.
She collapses back, the breath rasping maniacally in her throat, the Egyptian cotton rumpled beneath her, around her. Eyes closed, she is barely aware of the sounds of clothes being dropped to the floor. She feels her thighs being parted, feels his weight between them, his smooth glans pressing against her sex, slipping inside her cunt. She gasps with decadent relief, with wanton pleasure.
Desirable whore, she thinks.
The full length of him embedded within her velvet wetness, he begins to thrust long and steadily, kissing her mouth, her face, her ears, her neck and her breasts as he fucks her with swiftly rising passion. She entwines her calves behind his thighs, binding him to her.
“Are you finished painting me now?” she gasps.
“Not by a long way.”
__________________________
We’re not done yet. Mount me now. Swing your thigh across mine, hold your greedy cunt open with your fingers and ease yourself slowly down onto my aching prick. Ride me, languidly at first, then harder, faster, the breath rasping in your throat as my cockhead presses against your womb, as my oiled brush presses against your skin once more, describing the sweet contours of your breasts, circling the stiff peaks that crown them, gliding across the softness of your belly, and the succulent nub of your clitoris.
I’ll still want more though.
I want to take you from behind, my cock implanted within your ass, the soft bristles exploring your wondrous arse, tracing lightly around the roseate place where my flesh becomes yours even as my hot seed erupts into that forbidden darkness. And then I want to paint the lips of your cunt as I tongue you, taste you, make you come again and again and again.
And when we are done, when we’re both finally spent, drained, exhausted, the image of the gleaming, pleasured body that we’ve created together will be etched upon the canvas of our minds forever.
39 Comments | Permalink
Tags: Artists, Brushes, Painting, Sugasm Top 3
Sugasm #129
April 28, 2008 | Category: Sexblogs, Sugasm | Leave a Comment
The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them…
This Week’s Picks
April Showers Bring May Flowers: Part II“As mentioned earlier, this is one of the biggest hurdles to overcome; this is also where mind over matter comes into play.”
Au revoir
“In the life of an eclectic slut, however, these are all warning signs.”
Ode to Anal: Why?
“Really, for me, it was the first, and one of my foremost, all encompassing sexual acts.”
Mr. Sugasm Himself
Soviet Erotica
Editor’s Choice
Catalina loves Real Women
See also: Fleshbot’s Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday.
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Now I Am Three
April 23, 2008 | Category: News, Sexblogs | 33 Comments
So here it is. The third anniversary of Easily Aroused. Or to put it another way, welcome to the start of EA - Year Four.
Of course, today doesn’t just mark this blog’s anniversary: it’s also the day that I make it into print with Compulsive Ardour. It’s a paperback collection of the best of this blog - with some brand new, never-seen-before material thrown in for good measure - just as requested by more than a few of you [as things stand, 179 out of 201 of you wanted to see EA turned into a paperback].
Here it is then: your chance to purchase your very own copy of the best of my works, to take and read wherever and whenever you wish. Dimensionally, the book’s 6″ x 9″, and 214 pages long, and it contains just shy of seventy (yes, that’s *seventy*) stories and vignettes for your reading pleasure - and all for the price of just £9.99. Alternatively, if you should wish to download the book to your computer for using with a PDA or eBook reader, the price is £5.00.
Click the button at the bottom of this post to purchase your copy. And in the meantime … here’s to Year Four…
~EA
33 Comments | Permalink
Putting It All Together
April 15, 2008 | Category: News, Sexblogs | 26 Comments
This year, April 23rd is going to be a notable day for me for two reasons.
For one, it will mark the third anniversary of this website. Hard to believe it’s been that long. Harder to believe Easily Aroused is still here, especially when the typical life of a sex-focused blog seems to be not much more than twelve months.
Now that’s reason one. As for reason two…
To date, 183 people have voted in the ’should there be a paperback’ poll … and 89% of those want a paperback version of the blog, regardless of anything else.
I’m quite prepared to consider that as a majority.
So April 23rd will not only be EA’s third birthday … it’s also going to be the day that - all things being equal - Compulsive Ardour is published, through Lulu.com.
Excited?
26 Comments | Permalink
Risqué Abstracts #28
April 13, 2008 | Category: Erotica, Risqué Abstracts, Sexblogs | 20 Comments
I like the thought of tempting you.
~Tempt me then. Offer yourself to me. Tell me whatever it is that you desire.
I want to make your cock hard. Right now.
~Are you becoming wet?
I am. Do you like knowing that?
~You know I do. I’ve never seen your cunt, and yet I fantasise about that part of you so often. Looking at you, opening you with my fingers, staring at where your ivory flesh becomes a deep, rich red. Touching your moistness, and then slipping a finger inside you, feeling the velvety walls. Finding your Gspot and lightly caressing it, before fingering you more deeply, two fingers, three, fucking you slowly, feeling your juices beginning to flow, coating my fingers.
Oh God, that’s lovely. You’d make me so wet. I’d love to watch your fingers touching me.
~Touching you. Entering you. Pleasuring you.
Yes. Making me gasp with your very first touch.
~I want to sit you down, push your skirt up, ease down your panties, and then spend an age exploring your sex with my eyes, my fingers, my hands, my lips and my tongue. I’d slip two fingers inside you, curl them up to caress your Gspot and gently suck your clitoris into my mouth. And with my free hand, I’d reach up to plunder your breasts.
~Would you open your blouse and free them for me?
Yes.
~What else would you do for me? Would you cup them so I could watch? Run your fingers across their soft skin? Pinch your nipples lightly? Raise them to your mouth so you could lick your nipples?
Yes … I’m caressing them now. My nipples are already hard. I’ve slipped my hand inside my top, over my bra.
~Describe your bra for me.
It’s black and lacy
~Are your nipples visible through the lace?
They are. They’re pressing against it.
~Are they hard?
Very.
~I want to kiss them through the lace. Lick them. Suckle on them.
I want you to. I want to watch you suckle on them.
~Does your bra fasten at the rear?
It does.
~I’d reach behind you with one hand, release the clasp, ease the straps off your shoulders, down your arms, draw your bra away from you. I’d kiss every last millimetre of your breasts, your nipples. I’d drum my tongue against them in turn as I cupped your breasts.
Mmmmm. Your breath against them, the wetness of your tongue, it would feel lovely. It would make me ache.
~Isn’t it making you ache now? Thinking about me caressing you that way?
It is. It’s making me want to touch myself.
~Are you wearing a skirt?
No. I’d really like to take my trousers off.
~Are you alone?
Yes.
~Do it then.
They’re off. I’m just sitting in my panties now, with my bra and shirt on.
~Delicious.
I am so very wet. I’m soaking.
~How do you know?
Because when I slid my trousers off, I touched myself a little, pressed my panties onto my cunt, and I could feel how damp they were. I have this lovely achy feeling too.
~A need to be filled?
Oh yes…
20 Comments | Permalink
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