Hot New Release - Body Shots

Today I’m celebrating my seventh release of the year – Body Shots! I’m giving away a copy to one lucky commenter. And if you’d like to purchase a copy you can at: www.jasminejade.com

Blurb:

Got tequila? Sierra does, and Reed isn’t afraid to use it. He’s determined to do shots on every inch of her skin, but Sierra has insecurities preventing him from exploring intimate areas. Her insecurities won’t stop her from lavishing his body with the heady liquor though.

Ten years ago an accident tore Sierra Allen and Reed Walker apart. Now a chance encounter has them burning for each other. A bottle of liquor and a pool table has this duo ready to quench their thirsts with one night of body shots. But will one night be enough?

Excerpt:

“Reed, it’s been ten years. A lot has changed in that time. I’m not the girl who left. I’m not that person anymore.” I’m not the woman you loved, she wanted to scream. Yet she couldn’t deny she still had feelings for him. Ten years hadn’t erased those feelings. How she wished it had. But the truth was she loved Reed as much as she did the day she walked out of his life—for what she believed was forever.

She moved to the side and started to walk away.

Reed grabbed her arm, twisting her around.

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Sierra. I know you. I can see the pain in your eyes. And I can also see the love.”

She shivered, hating his ability to read her. Her pain was from the fact she couldn’t stop loving him. She hoped he’d have moved on by now. Married and settled down. But part of her was relieved to know he hadn’t.

“Reed…”

His hands pulled her face closer. His lips descended, capturing hers. She didn’t resist. She accepted his kiss. When his tongue invaded her mouth, she parted her lips, allowing him access. She knew she should push him away. Instead she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, devouring his mouth hungrily.

His arms enveloped her waist lifting her off the ground. She felt his bulge through his pants. It throbbed against her stomach.

She whimpered. It’d been so long since she felt a man inside her. So long since she had sex. Thoughts of having Reed inside her consumed her. Blinded by desire, she lost her grip on reality. Her legs snaked around his waist.

“Fuck me, Reed,” she whispered between kisses.

His mouth froze.

What the fuck? Why was he stopping? Wasn’t this what he wanted?

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she said, before sucking his lower lip into her mouth. She nibbled and released it. “One hundred percent positive.”

Holding onto her ass, he carried her over to the bar. He set her down on a stool, picked up his beer and took a long swig.

“Got any tequila?”

“Behind the bar.” She hitched her thumb back. “Second shelf next to the vodka.”

“Don’t move.” He dragged his lips across hers.

She tapped her fingers against the side of the bar stool, wondering why he needed the tequila. She swiveled the chair around to see what he was doing. He found the tequila easily per her instructions, now he was ransacking the bar.

“Can I help you find something?” Her amusement was only going so far. If he didn’t fuck her soon, she might change her mind.

“Lemon?”

“Middle of the bar, in that little cooler type thingy. Salt is down near the cash register.”

Maybe a few shots was exactly what she needed to cool her burning skin. His touch electrified her.

He moved around the bar, collecting all the items he needed. Placing them on the counter one by one he asked, “Have you ever done body shots?”

[Via http://amberskyze.wordpress.com]

What I Want

Hit me.

Flog me, shock me, burn me.  Scratch long, teasing lines in red with nails that want more.  Make my skin quiver and dance beneath your touch.  Lick me, kiss me, surprise me.  Find my buttons and push them hard.

Bite me.  Bite me hard.

Don’t

stop.

Shove me past my limits, love my strength.  See me as i am.  Play with me, admire me.  Make me cry out in pain.  Make me cry out in pleasure.  Light my nerves on fire.  Make me laugh.  Let me refuse You, and then

make.  me.  pay.

Let me show you how brave I am, and then make me small.  Force me down and take it.  Tell me how much you want me.  Tell me what you will have.  Make me perfect.  Hit me hard.

Beat me, but respect the fight.

Run your fingers lightly up my arms.  Kiss my neck.  Hold my wrists and turn them until I cry out.  Grab my hair and shove me up against the wall.  Slide a thigh between my legs.  Grind into me like I’m everything you’ve ever wanted.  Make a meal of the way I grind on you.  Listen to my moans…my panting, desperate pleading.

Pull out a knife and hold it at my throat.  Scare me.  Purr into my ear as you draw blood.  Adore my fear.

Knock me down and pin me there.  Enjoy my struggle.  Laugh with gentleness in your eyes.  Growl with menace.

Tell me you want me.  Make me the center of everything.  Let me fill your needs, violently….

and then hold me in your strong, warm embrace and pet my head.  Whisper to me lovingly.  Rock me gently and say, “Good girl.  Beautiful girl.  My girl.”

And then, when I am finally calm, let me get up, and start on you…

[Via http://uncommoncuriosity.com]

BDSM Quiz

Take It Here

You Scored as Switch

(((Note: This quiz is not totally comprehensive because of the length such a quiz would be. I kept it sex-based because I felt that psychological profiles and motivations were too complicated and vary too greatly among people that practice BDSM.))) You know what you want but it has nothing to do with your own role in the bedroom. You have the ability to be flexible in that area which can be useful for exploring you sexuality with your partner.

Switch   96% Exhibitionist / Voyeur   93% Experimental   79% Dominant   64% Masochist   46% Sadist   46% Submissive   43% Degradation Lover   43% Vanilla   32% Bondage   29%

[Via http://housewife987.wordpress.com]

The Upper Floor

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Secrets of a Sexologist

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please, no thank-you

About ten years ago, I hooked up with a guy I met at the gym. We spent a few months together and he was a fantastic lover. But after the first time we had sex, he did something that made me cringe: he said “thank you.”

I know he had good intentions. Or at least, I will give him the benefit of the doubt and assume he had good intentions. But the way it came out, and the context of the conversation, made it clear that he was operating in a mindset that was… well, kinda icky. I think he felt he needed to say thanks because in his world, girls didn’t like having sex; they did it as a favour to their men. Sex was a favour, an indulgence, a prize, something to be grateful for because really, it was a bit of a sacrifice on her part. It was a coveted object, a reward for good behaviour, a special treat when she happens to be feeling generous. It was a very gender-binary, heterosexual and transactional way of approaching sex, and it put me in a box that did not fit and attributed feelings to me that I did not feel.

It grossed me the fuck out.

I told him in no uncertain terms that I did not want to be thanked for sex. That I wanted sex as much as he did, maybe more, and that in no way was I doing him some sort of benevolent favour by getting in the sack with him. His thank-you blunted my agency, assumed I had no desire or interest or libido of my own; and since I am very much an agent of my own pleasure and a desiring, libidinous human being, I felt misunderstood and insulted that he could have misread my experience of our fuck as anything other than pure, genuine pleasure. What kind of actress was he accustomed to bedding? (And why would anyone even need to put on a show for him? The man had talent aplenty!)

We did figure it out. More or less, at least. He’d never dated a queer woman before and as time went on, it became clear that there was a lot about our sex life that was surprising or different for him, so the “thank-you” talk was one of many conversations we had that involved trying to mesh two worldviews that really didn’t fit very well.

That relationship eventually ended when the incompatibilities started to pile up just a bit too high. But that specific experience really stuck with me, and I carried it over into other situations that weren’t nearly the same. For a long time, “thank you” was a trigger point for me – it was an instant flashback to feeling incredibly misunderstood.

I have since had many experiences where “thank you” means something a whole lot different. “Thank you” can be a way to express respect and appreciation in a context of mutuality – not so much “thank you for allowing me to take my pleasure by using your body” as “thank you for enjoying the ride with me.” It can be a way to express the joy and honour of being allowed into someone’s vulnerability. “Thank you” can be a way to express submission and gratitude in a sexual D/s situation, when kindness has been proffered that actually is a favour – I had a conversation with a submissive not long ago who made it clear that he’d been trained by his first mistress to say “thank you” after anything sexual took place, as a way of indicating respect and appreciation for the efforts of the dominant. For that matter, “thank you” can come in handy for dominants too, in recognition of a submissive’s openness and trust. In short it can mean all kinds of things that aren’t the least bit icky at all.

But I’ll admit that sometimes, for me, “thank you” still echoes a bit funny when I hear it. It can create a distance I thought sex had bridged, a formality in situations where I thought intimacy was happening. It can still turn an experience of mutuality into an experience of transaction. That’s not the effect it has all the time; sometimes it’s really okay. But sometimes, with a certain tone and at a certain moment, with a certain look in the eye, “thank you” can still do more harm than good.

What have your experiences been with the words “thank you” after sex? I’d love to hear your stories.

[Via http://sexgeek.wordpress.com]

Drunk Jap bitch gets what she deserves.

This happened the other night.

It is not the first time I have met “Chikako” before, in fact, probably the 4th time.  She is 39, amazingly but looks about 30.  Very tight body and takes care of herself.  Intelligent and financially well off, it makes demeaning her and owning her bitch ass even more appealing.

She took me to dinner and, stupidly, tried like she always does to match me drink for drink. She is one of those. Lots of pride, too much to know when to say “I am a woman, I should learn my place.”, but thats just fine with me.  I kept putting down the beer’s she was ordering for both of us and by the time we left the okonomiaki place, she was well lit.

We then went to another bar where she went from Sex on the beach to whiskey on the rocks and I watched, loving it, as her eyes glazed over, she had so much to drink I managed to get her to admit that 1. She is in fact, a whore. 2. That White men are genetically superior to Japanese men and 3. Got her to pay the bill, then convinced her she hadn’t, and she should give me the money and I would take care of it.

Then off we went.

In side I sat on the couch and pulled her jeans open and yanked them down to the floor, while she stood there wobbling about, I was pleased to see her wearing such tight, conservative pink panties and with my left hand I began rubbing her already wet pussy through her panties, while with my right I reached under her sweater up and under her bra, and began pulling on her nipples.  She moaned loudly, drunkenly and I slipped two fingers under her panties and up all the way to the third knuckle into her sopping wet fuck hole.  This caused her to nearly collapse but I supported her weight, less that 48 kilos, with the hand on her tits and the one buried, now nearly to the wrist, in her pussy.

Then I pulled her down to her knees, so she sat in front of me on the tatami floor while I reclined on the sofa, I held her black pony tail, all that shiny black hair nearly down to her ass, and with my free hand I pulled out my swollen and throbbing cock, which she, immediately took fully into her mouth and greedily began sucking on.  I roughly pulled on her pony tail lifting her head up and away from my cock and then grabbed her chin and cheeks with my hand, “hands behind your back” I said. She obeyed and then I pushed her head back down onto my throbbing dick.  She made snorting noises as she took my full shaft into her mouth and throat and this excited me enough, so that, I began face fucking her in earnest, holding her hair so I could fully feel the head of my cock entering her throat. Her gagging and choking noises were lovely and I had to stop, in order to avoid cumming too soon.

I took her sweater off, and then went into my closet and got out one of my Gag balls. Its a heavy duty leather harness style gag ball, and she was completely neutral and submissive, letting me slip it on her, without saying a single word.  I then took that opportunity to synch all the straps down extra tight and I watched, blood rushing harder and harder into my shaft as her facial features contorted slightly due to the pressure of the gag. Her mouth wrapped around the red ball exciting even more.

“Your a fucking whore.” I said.  “Fucking bitch.” I said, then turned her around and hurriedly bound her hands with a strand of hemp rope I had pulled from that closet.  Nothing artistic, nothing professional, just tying her hands because I wanted, needed to fuck her now.  immediately.

I rolled her over on her belly and put a pillow under her hips to prop them up and pulling those lovely panties to the side I jammed all of my length and girth as far as I could into her absolutely dripping wet  pussy fuck hole.

Her body went totally rigid and her hands pulled against the bonds and she let out a muffled groan and snort, her ass muscles flexing, and relaxing along with the muscles inside her vagina, and I did not wait but immediately began pounding away, grabbing the strap on the back of her gag ball, pulling it, like reins for a horse as I fucked her harder and harder.  Her vagina was amazing and I layed down on her back, still holding the gag, her tied hands pinned beneath my weight and whispered into her ear “You like this fucking bitch whore, you like it cunt? huh?” all she could manage was a weak “un” and a slight head nod, “You like getting fucked by a white man slut?  You want white jizz up your jap hole?” This was followed again by a weak grunt and a nodding of her head, this time more insistent.

I decided to give this horny slut bag what she wanted.  I felt my orgasm coming initially in my ass someplace and I knew it would be amazing, I would not let this be ruined, not this one, I was going to blast every pearly white drop of my jizz right up her slutty,, fucked out bitch hole and she was going to love it.  “Is this what you want cunt? white cum in your pussy? white cum fuck bag?” Now her head nodded yes over and over and she was moaning louder as my cock grew even bigger as my orgasm traveled from my ass,into my balls and then burning up into my shaft and I pulled hard

on the gag strap I was holding,

my other hand holding her right ass cheek and I heard her moan, but only vaguely because at that moment I was someplace else, the best place in the universe, and I felt my juice shoot out once, twice, three and four times.  I then pushed into her a few more times hard, to make certain she would get all of it in her hole.

The orgasm gone, I left her laying on the bed still tied and gagged too tight and I went to piss, then have a beer.

 

 

39, can you believe it?

 

 

Leather Harness Ball gag. Put those bitches in their place.

My type here. Next time its going up her ass.

 

 

 

[Via http://eroidesu.wordpress.com]