Hippie (Hipster) Couple

The old hippie is the new hipster.

At the grocery store

Love this image.

69

The definition of the 69 position: a win-win.

Taken

At the beach

Being silly,  she lifted her legs and pulled up her swim suit.

Ocean Dip on Birthday

When I turned 30, I decided to mark the life milestone with a plunge in the Pacific. It was freezing. Absolutely numbingly freezing. The cold cut into my skin like tiny pins, and it literally pinched my lungs so I couldn't breath. I was in only for a few moments, but, stepping out, I have never felt so alive.

PS--This was the Oregon Coast, not a nude beach. It was mostly vacant, being winter. But none of the other visitors seemed to mind my birthday plunge.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Marge Monday: Happy Valentine's

One thing Simpson viewers know is that Marge is a great baker. She once worked in an erotic bakery, in fact. For this Valentine's Day, she baked Homer his very favorite: a frosted doughnut with sprinkles. Ummmm, sprinkles.

She then applied some heart-shaped pasties, and posed provocatively. (Another thing she has experience with is posing for the camera.)

It's certain that Homer got everything he wanted for Valentine's. Hope you do, too!

Cabin Rental

One thing we love to do for Valentine's is rent a cabin in the mountains. She always buys new lingerie, which is a present for her, and me, and both of us. In the cabin, with the pine walls and gabled roof, bookshelves of old magazines left by past guests, and the brass bed, we have the best sex of the year, completely invigorated and uninhibited.

Pegged

My girlfriend pegged me.

House Mates

They shared a house together. They met on Craigslist. They cooked together. They shopped together, sometimes. They had sex alone, sometimes. When they wanted to go anything as a group, they did it in the kitchen. That was one of the house rules. They found it was easier to talk about sharing chores and bills after they'd fucked.

Walk in the woods

Returning from their picnic, she decided to walk back without putting her pants back on. She had the blanket just in case she came across anyone coming up the trail in the other direction, but it was night, and she was feeling tipsy and the thrill of not having any pants seemed perfect.

Rainy Day

A good indoor activity for a rainy day.

Chatting

When she discovered online porn, it totally changed her life. She was soon looking at images and exploring what turned her on. She ordered a pink rabbit vibrator online, too. When she figured out that she could do online chatting, she was thrilled. She found other women online, also masturbating with toys to talk to and have orgasms with. It was sexy.

Check In

What I love most about this self-snap is that it's so clearly a hotel room.

Marge Monday

In bed, when feeling frisky, Marge shows that come-here-Homer look. 

Beautiful

Road Trip

This photo is hilarious. Classic road trip hi-jinx.

Photo by Chad Moore

Pretty Poet

In high school I had a crush on Kim, who was four years older than me. She wrote poetry and drew in a sketch book and always wore vintage clothes. She had long, straight dishwater blonde hair that she parted in the middle. Such a sensitive soul. Oh how I had a crush on her.

Hint

Her husband wasn't very good at subtle messages. 

Kick back on the grass

It was already dark, and getting a little chilly. But she was still tipsy from the party and in  a playful mood. She stripped off her shirt and lay back on the grass. It was soft and cool. Holding her camera above her head, snapped a picture. Her nipples pinched from the evening air.

Beach Beauty Enjoys the Option in Clothing Optional

She packed sunscreen and very little else. She didn't fly all this way to a sunny beach to wear clothes.

Marge Monday

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The Gaze

Center of Attention

She loved being the center of attention.

Triangle

An over the shoulder glance

An over the shoulder glance can say so much.

Discreet Pee

They were swimming at the beach, and as they were chatting and he was taking a photo of her in her new yellow bikini, she realized she had to pee. She didn't want to go all the way back up the beach to the parking lot to the public bathroom. And she wasn't sure if peeing underwater was going to expose her to some bacteria or something in the ocean, so she did it standing up, pulling her bikini bottoms just to the side enough. No one had any idea, except them. The pee tickled her thigh as it went down. Soon she'd wash off with the salt water. Neither of them really had a golden shower fetish. It wasn't any part of their love making, but it felt at least then, naughty, and kinda turned her on to think that she was standing up in public, urinating down her leg.

What she wanted

When asked what she wanted, she pulled the sheets off the single bed and drug the mattress into the living room. She fetched her toy from the top drawer of her dresser and some ropes from the closet. She wanted to be tied up, and taken. 

She loved being on her stomach, not facing him, her face on the bare fabric. She loved being taken from behind, violated by the toy or his cock, or both. She loved it in the back, helpless to resist. If he would really get wild and "have his way" with her, it was really having her way.

Tennis Pro

This is no doubt the dream girl of probably any guy who grew up in the 80s. For some reason tennis was really big. It sort of followed all the hollywood movies about the rich preppy girl who dated the rich preppy jock, but eventually (and through a cornball series of misadventures) fell for the smarter, nerdier, but sweeter guy. So many of us wanted to be that guy, who defeated someone named "Chip" or "Lance" and  had one sweet shot at a girl like "Mandy" or "Carrie."  

Tennis was in. Izod shirts were in. Collars up. Porsche 911s were in. Cocaine was in. Bands with synthesizer keyboards were in. Belonging to a country club was in.  Wearing sweatshirts that said Harvard were in, even if you didn't know anyone who went to Harvard. And lovely blonde girl-next-door types were the one all the girls wanted to be, and all the guys wanted to be with.

How many fantasies involved a match of strip tennis back then? Or maybe I should say, what fantasy didn't involve strip tennis? 

Some Party

Wow, this is some party! How can I RSVP?

Marge Monday

In our new series, we celebrate the animate MILF sex-pot, Marge each Monday.

Here's Marge skinny dipping!

Higher Education

What she really learned in college.

Now Wife

Your then girlfriend holds your dick her hand, smiles at you, as she is nailed by another guy. You knew then, you'd marry her.

Completely Awesome

How many things make this image completely awesome? 

Wearing high heel leather boots.

Wearing sunglasses.

Wearing a cool sweater and nothing else.

Her apartment, in morning.

Her breasts, pert with hard nipples.

Squatting, legs open.

Touching herself.

Her face, absorbed in pleasure.

Her right hand secretly reaching behind her.

Her Commute

One way to make her commute more interesting. Set her camera on her bag. Set the self-timer. Have to turn off the flash, otherwise the guy behind will know what she's doing. No flash means the image is a bit blurry, but still, pretty good. She's been trying different outfits on different days, going comando. She even shaved to see what that'd look like on camera.

A Bit Racy

When we saw this image, we just had to reblog. It's from Katie, a 20-year-old redhead gal with her own tumbler, "Improper." 

When she posted this image, she wrote:

There is a lot to be said about this photo, but I think your mind doesn’t need much help to do the talking. Sometimes I feel a bit racy, who knows how long i’ll keep this photo up…

Then a reader asked:

is that your own wetness, or did your boyfriend fill you up

And her two-word reply, which made it sexiest of all:

fill’d up.

Snow Mobile!

A sunny day. Snow on the ground. What better way to feel the thrill of a snowmobile ride than to do it au natural.

Sarah and Rachel

Rachel, my girlfriend, was always jealous of my best friend Sarah. Rachel knew that Sarah usually dated other girls, but also that Sarah wasn't strictly gay. Definitely bisexual, Sarah had had several boyfriends in high school and college. 

I met Sarah in grad school. She lived in an apartment by herself and her fat cat. I started coming over to study for tests and get help on papers. She was a really great writer. She always had the heat turned way up, because she was from California, and found living north far too cold. She also loved to drink whiskey, particularly Bushmills. Related to both the heat and the Bushmills, she usually wore just a tank top and boy's boxer shorts in her apartment. 

Rachel was in another state then (I'd moved away for grad school and she was finishing undergrad.) Sarah had broken up from some long-term relationship. So we were both alone at nights. It was inevitable that the late nights, whiskey, and skimpy clothing would eventually lead to us having sex. 

We both knew I was cheating, but it didn't feel wrong. We were great friends and the sex felt a natural extension of that friendship. It was definitely physical, and the only emotional level was just the enjoyment of being together. There was no jealously or possession. Sarah knew Rachel would move out to be with me. And she knew when that happened, I'd be back with Rachel. 

When Rachel did move out, she sensed something between Sarah and I. She seemed jealous, because Sarah was tall (Rachel was short), Sarah had large breasts (Rachel was A cup), Sarah was a beautiful writer who could connect to me as an artist (Rachel felt like an outsider).  But for all the reasons Rachel was jealous of Sarah, she was also attracted to her. She could see why Sarah and I had become such good friends. She even confessed to me one night that she thought Sarah was pretty sexy and that she'd had some fantasies about her. This of course turned me on, and we had amazing sex that evening, perhaps both thinking of Sarah. 

Hearing Rachel talk about being with another woman was a huge turn-on for me, and when she was specifically talking about Sarah, it was even hotter. It became a form of foreplay for us, talking about what Sarah would do to her. 

I knew, and perhaps Rachel knew, and maybe even Sarah knew, that our relationship could only go one of two ways. Rachel had guessed that Sarah and I had already been intimate. She could have broken up with me, or stayed with me, but insisted that I stay clear of Sarah. Sarah could have become the home wrecker. Or, she could embrace it. 

Sarah must have known this, too, because she invited both of us over for dinner to her apartment. She cooked us a great meal and poured wine. She and Rachel talked easily and seemed to laugh a lot. After dinner we all sat in her tiny apartment living room and drank more and listened to records. Then we watched the movie Frida, which probably was carefully selected, because not only was Frida one of Rachel's favorite painters, but also a bisexual. the film featured a couple sexy girl-girl scenes. 

After the movie, we were all pretty drunk. Sarah started some silly game, where we answered questions about things we've never done, where you drew a card and then had to answer truthfully if you've done it or not. If you haven't, you said, for example, "I've never made love in a car" or you had to tell the story of when you did. A fantastic game when drunk and sexual sparks are flying. 

Every card seemed to draw really sexy stories. And it wasn't long before Rachel drew a card that said "last thing you've fantasized about while masturbating." She blushed. She admitted that she'd never had a woman lick her between her legs, but that it was her number-one fantasy while masturbating. 

"You never have," asked Sarah, softly, almost sympathetically. She looked at Rachel with earnest eyes and said quietly and simply, "would you like to?"

Rachel just nodded. I think she was probably too scared inside to find words. I knew she wanted it and was pretending to be cool about it.  Sarah didn't rush, she just moved closer to Rachel and touched her hair, and then whispered something to her in her ear. Rachel lay back on the carpet, and Sarah, still not rushing, traced her hand over Rachel's clothes, and then slowly undressed her, without word, just calm and relaxed. When rachel was naked and on her back, eyes closed, Sarah moved down between her legs.  Her face was only a few inches from Rachel's trimmed hair. She could feel the warmth of Sarah near her and her breathing. Sarah asked, "Are you ready?" And Rachel nodded. Sarah gently lowered her mouth to Rachel, and with her tongue, made one smooth long lick up Rachel's folds, giving Rachel the very first experience of another woman. Sarah licked again and rolled her tongue over Rachel's clit, which had become swollen. Rachel sighed, her eyes closed and her mouth smiling. She was loving it. 

Goldie Locks

Wife in Morning Light

She said she always thought she looked best in a soft morning light. 

I agreed.

Introducing: Marge Monday

Well, of all the animated cartoons in history, the Simpson's have set the record.  More than 20 years on the air, they remain part of American popular culture.

Not surprising then, that Marge, the wife of Homer, and mother to Bart, Lisa, and Maggie, has become something of a sex-symbol, even appearing in Playboy magazine. Yes, really. The real Playboy.

So, in appreciation of Marge, America's hottest MILF of all time, we're introducing Marge Mondays. Every Monday, we'll bring you a new, sexy and sassy tribute to Marge. Enjoy!

Wife Swapping--This Just In

Sarah and Sona

Sona was a girl in our grad school. She and Sarah had a thing going on the side, even though Sona had a fiance back home. Sarah had an apartment and liked whiskey, and women.

Dude, your girlfriend is hot

This is probably what a lot of high school dudes imagined as their ultimate fantasy: a room they could write on the walls the names of their favorite bands, like Metallica, and hang Penthouse posters, and get their hot girlfriends to get naked and spread for a photo that they'd then show off to all of their f*ckin jealous friends. 

Yup. That was about it. 

Snowjob

One of my very favorite memories is the time Jennifer and I stopped for a short walk somewhere on a mountain pass in the Cascades. We'd planned on staying at a mountain cabin owned by a guy from work. He was nice enough to let us use it, and gave us a map and the secret code for the alarm and the hiding place of the key. Unfortunately, the snow was so deep, we couldn't even make it a quarter mile off the highway. We tried to drive up to a rustic mountain resort we'd heard of, but that, apparently was snowed in and closed for the season. So we retreated, back to the highway to a small town, which was little more than a gas station and a motel. We stayed the night at the motel, and normally would have had great travel sex, but as I recall, there was no hot water, no heat, and the fuse blew when we tried to turn on the lights. They eventually fixed the lights, but after what seemed like three strikes, we called it a day and went to bed.

The next day we decided to return to the city, but before we went, we crossed the highway, and walked down a dam. The reservoir was frozen over. After the dam, on the other side, the road climbed up a stell hill, winding into the mountains. We hiked about a mile. We snapped a couple photos, and in one  Jennifer lifted up her jacket and flashed me. She then, without any prompting, squatted down, opened my pants, and took out my cock. Even though the air was biting cold, the warmth of her hands immediately made me hard. She began to suck me, right as snowflakes began to fall. Normally, when you're getting sucked off by the woman you love, you don't think about anything else. But I started thinking about the snow and if we'd get back before it piled up and if the pass would get snowed in and if we'd have to spend another night in that cold, dank motel. And the more distracted I was, the harder it was for me to cum, and so the harder she sucked, gripping me with her hand and really going at it. She was not distracted. In fact, she seemed totally turned on and focused on my erection which seemed larger than usual, hard in the cold air, and thick in her hand. As she pumped me, I could feel the cum begin to build in my balls. 

Just then, I saw, far in the distance, another couple walking up the same road. They were too far away to tell if it was a man and woman or two men, or who. But they were headed for us, and I had my pants open and she was kneeling in front of me, bobbing up and down on my cock. If I could see them, they could probably see us, and could no doubt tell exactly what was going on. 

I told her people were coming. This seemed to make her go faster and harder. She pulled her mouth off my cock and held it open, her tongue, inches from the tip. She does this when she's feeling extra naughty. She wants to feel me shoot on her face, and she tells me this. She likes to talk dirty to me and tells me to cum on her face, to let her feel it. The people are closer now. I can see that it's a middle-aged couple. They are still far away, but they've surely seen us by now. Jennifer is gripping me with both hands, jacking me up and down, her face eager and waiting. Until I shot a large, pent-up load onto her face.

She pumps out every drop. Then she zips me up, and stands quickly. The couple is now so close we can see they are walking a small dog dressed in a red sweater. Jennifer's face is dripping with cum. We can't walk down the hill past them, so we turn up and try to put distance between us and the dog walkers. As we stride, our breath scatters in the cold air. She is glowing with sweat, rosy cheeked, and splattered with cum. She is letting it evaporate on her skin. She says she likes the feel. She says it's good for her complexion. She says it makes her feel naughty and slutly. She says having the couple see what she was doing turned her on even more. She says her underwear is soaked. She says she wants me to fuck her up against a tree, yanking her pants down just enough, and taking her from behind. Hearing her say this makes my half-hard cock twitch and regain a little stiffness. 

Her hand is down her pants as we walk, and she is rubbing herself. She says she's so close she could climax if we stopped. We've now put the couple almost out of sight. They've stopped, either to let their dog do it's business, or because they saw us and are keeping a respectful distance. She stops, her back to the couple. She's rubbing herself. I am standing in front of her, watching the couple. She asks me if I can see them, and I say yes. She asks me what they are doing. "Nothing," I say. "Just standing there." This seems to get her even hotter. She's rubbing herself harder, getting wobbly in the knees, and her face has the look of bliss. "Can they see us?" she asks. 

"Yeah," I say. "I think so."

She smiles. "I'm going to cum," she says. Her head rolls back, her eyes squeeze shut, and her mouth goes slack as she shutters and moans. Then louder, she gasps. Then louder, her orgasm cries echoing off the hills. "I'm cumming," she cries.

The couple with the dog look up, but they can only see her from the back. Maybe they didn't hear. Maybe it was bird or something that caught their attention. Sound carries in snow. The couple turns and leaves. 

We give them 10 minutes or so of a head start before we, too, turn and head back to our car.

Just a Shirt

I love it when she gets up from bed, and it's chilly in the house at morning, and so she grabs whatever is in reach to slip on. Sometimes it's just a shirt.

The Golden Hour

She liked the golden hour. She liked the light. She liked the smell of the sage and lavender. The hills looked soft. During the year that she wrote her dissertation, she lived in the hills at what had once been a farm house long ago. No one was around for miles. She loved to take a bike ride, each day at this time, and feel day turn to dusk, and to feel part of everything around her at this moment.

One Thing Lead to Another