Dale's Porno Blog

Convenient implement serves as flaccid penis substitute.

I was dating this girl Ashley one summer during college when I was back in my hometown.

She was tall–about 5′10″–and very thin with slim legs a yard long and small, firm breasts punctuated by always-hard, tiny dark nipples precisely in the center of each boob. Below them, a long waist stretched to prominent hipbones. Trailing down from her sexy “outie” navel was a furrow of black hair that blossomed into a thick patch of pubic hair.

I’m not kidding here, but her face was nearly identical to that of a young Miss Manners, the woman who writes the syndicated newspaper advice column, though Ashley had thicker eyebrows and a shag hair style. Yes, she had a bit of a snooty look about her–perhaps due to her blue-blood ancestry–though she was, in fact, a very down-to-earth hippie-type chick.

Girlfriend shows him his feminine side.

I woke up to gentle kisses on my neck. I turned my head to look at the person that was kissing me, but it was too dark (or maybe I was too hung over) to make out anything more than a silhouette. I closed my eyes and laid my head back down, deciding just to enjoy it, as I thought about the fun I had the night before… It was our 17th month anniversary, and she just wanted an excuse to get me drunk. And seeing how she had just turned 21 the week before, what better time to do it?

She called me up and told me to come over to her place, and I did, having no idea what was in store for me. It was nothing special at first–we watched a little TV, then went back to her room and laid on her bed and listened to the radio. Then we got to talking. Eventually the conversation moved on to kinkier things, as it always seemed to do. We had always been the kinky types–a little bondage here, and maybe a sex toy there, it was great. But mostly what we did was talk. We had the best conversations. Without even thinking about it, my hand would be in my pants in no time. I don’t know why anyone would ever want to keep secrets from there significant other. If you’re embarrassed or shy about it then it is most likely the greatest thing to talk about. How else would I have learned that my girlfriend sometimes thinks about other chicks sexually, or that she actually likes the idea of two guys going at it with each other. She found out that I masturbate semi-regularly, and I found out she approved. She also found out I had dreams of being a woman, dreams mind you, I am very happy being a man, but I still thought it could be fun. We could even talk about who we thought was hot. For example there was this one guy in one of my girlfriend’s classes that she had a major crush on. I thought it (the crush) was kind of cute. She could actually get me horny by talking about fooling around with him, not that I would ever allow it, but it’s still fun to talk about.

What’s streetlights got to do with bluegrass?

“It’s in the streetlights as they first flicker on,” the old man said, lighting his pipe. A fragrant, bluish tail of smoke began to curl up toward the rafters. “The broadening glow, faint against the twilight but steadily growing, expanding in intensity until it forms an orangey cone. If the streets are deserted and the crickets quiet, you can hear it, the low hum that soon seems to rub the back of your head. Once you hear it, it doesn’t let go.”

He paused again, slowly letting a ring of smoke roll out of his mouth, upward toward the light bulb dangling on a long wire. I waited… and waited… and waited. Finally giving up hope that he would speak again, I leaned forward, “But what’s that got to do with…”

He had them, and she wanted them.

This was supposed to be our night, so what happens…again?

Bad enough I was spending more time at his place than my own because I was on deadline, but the one day and moment I get back early to get all washed, brushed, scented and sexy before he got home, he comes in with his brother! They just barged right into the bedroom and there I was in the finest pink satiny French-cut panties and push-up bra Victoria”s Secret had to offer! I didn”t know what was more humiliating; having to show them my almost bare ass when I dove for the blankets to cover myself, or the fact that through their barely hidden smiles, they were less embarrassed than I was!

Actually, no - two phone calls.

You’ve just hung up.

I’m laying on the futon, legs still partially covered by the bed’s sheet but not wide opened anymore. On the contrary, my knees are stuck together, legs on the side, whilst I’m laying on my back, a phone in my right hand….I don’t know where the left hand has gone.

I’m still blurred, in a haze, just waking up after the wave that went through my body. Suddenly I start being conscious of my left hand, next to my cheeks…I lift it up as if it was a stranger’s hand, not a part of me anymore. My fist is closed, clenched as would Leonard Cohen say in his song… clenching her fist…I look at it, lift it in front of my eyes…I open my fist, distend my hand…My hand isn’t wet…it’s soaked, glued by my own juices. I part my fingers as I parted my legs a few minutes before. My fingers are palmed by my juice, it stick to them like a spider’s jelly net. Funny how wet they are, skin full of wrinkles, like an old woman’s skin, like I’ve spent hours in a hot bath.

She is saving her virginity for Mr. Right.

At nine o’clock, Crystal turned off the television. She had things to do that were much more urgent than looking at some dumb sitcom rerun, and she stood up and started toward her bedroom to prepare to take care of those things. Although she hated what she was about to do, and wished it wasn’t necessary, her needs had become too strong to ignore.

At twenty-five years old, she sometimes thought of herself as the nation’s oldest virgin. She didn’t really believe that, but her hymen was the oldest in existence that she knew of for sure. Crystal actually took pride in this fact, remembering how her late mother had always impressed on her the need to be chaste, and not surrender her virginity until proudly doing so to her bridegroom on her wedding night.

Two friends with benefits play together.

Angel and Chris have had a friendship for a few years. They both belonged to someone else, however, this past summer; their friendship had escalated into friends with benefits. The stolen moments they had with each other were undeniably HOT.

Angel always enjoyed her alone time at home. Time when she could masturbate, and totally relax. She would go to her dresser drawer and get out her favorite toy, a massager that would get her off in just minutes. Recently, she began to fantasize about Chris touching her, as she rolled the massager up and down her clit. She would get off so quickly, while the dirty thoughts consumed her mind. She used her trusty massager so much that it was beginning to wear out. “What’s a girl to do?” she had recalled joking to Chris about this predicament a few weeks ago.

Breaking in a new toy turns into a most delightful afternoon.

This story really should be in the middle of a long time encounter between a couple that has finally become a couple, but this is what kept running through my head the other day and I had to put it down, if you enjoyed it please look out for more, I will try to start at the beginning with the next tale This is my first submission though so have mercy …

“Hello.”… I know my voice sounded way too breathy when I answered the phone, thank god for caller id.

I heard his chuckle and could see his slight grin in my mind “Now, what have you been doing?”

Twelve-inch dildo helps him over his mid life crisis.

All my friends said dating a woman twenty years younger than me would mess with my head, my former wife just laughed shook her head and told me she never thought she would see me go through a mid life crisis, I guess she was wrong. I jostled my bum trying to comfort my aching body, two broken arms, two shattered legs below the knees and four cracked ribs, running a class two Porsche racing car into a concrete wall tends to that to ones body. If I could just move a little to the left then I could, shit too far, I will never get this wheel chair in front of the television properly.

A lonely woman, memorable dreams, a single rose.

“Comments? Let me know please. No unauthorized use. Romantic-Erotica”

One hand delicately turns the knob, the spray of hot water falling from the spout above her small frame suddenly stops. She reaches up that same hand and slowly brushes water droplets from her eyes, dark lashes lifting and fluttering in gentle kisses upon her silken cheeks as she blinks out the left over water enough to turn without stumbling from the shower. Stepping easily, dainty feet silently lift and drop onto the terry towel resting at the base of the shower door. Scuffing her feet lightly she reaches for her light shaded lilac robe and pulls it carefully upon her slim frame. Tying it loosely she leans over the sink and peers at herself in the steamed mirror for a moment before wiping a section clean. Blinking she sighs a little and turns from the bathroom, towel drying her thick brown hair as she walks out into her living room. Steadying herself for another lonely night.