A lunchtime quickie gone (somewhat) wrong.

                          A lunchtime quickie gone (somewhat) wrong.

“Since I work really close to my boyfriend’s apartment, it’s not unusual for me to head over on my lunch break (he’s a freelance web designer) for an afternoon quickie. One afternoon this past winter, I walked into his place and started unbuttoning my shirt immediately, calling for him to join me in the living room. After five wasted minutes, I found him cowering in the bathroom. In an effort to “get ready” for me, it turns out he’d decided to try my dildo out on himself and he’d gotten the thing stuck really far up his ass!

I ended up spending my lunch hour using various kitchen tools (turkey baster, tongs, scissors etc.) trying to dislodge the thing. Unfortunately, I hadn’t made much progress when it was time for me to go back to work.

When I came home that night, the dildo was still protruding from his butt, so I drove him to the Emergency Room. To save him the indignity of admitting that he’d been playing around by himself, I told the doctors I’d shoved the thing up his ass. They were able to remove the sex toy, thank goodness, and as soon as we exited the hospital, we started cracking up. There’s nothing like a dildo lodged in a man’s ass to bring a couple closer together. To celebrate—and because we were both so damn sexually frustrated by then—we did it in the car right there in the parking lot. I swear the windows steamed up, Titanic style.” sources

My wife and I made a pact to have sex at every wedding we attend.

My wife and I made a pact to have sex at every wedding we attend.

“After I got married, understanding how much work and money goes into the whole thing made me determined to make the most of every wedding I’m invited to. It was during my wife’s best friend’s reception (yes, she was a bridesmaid) that I suggested making a pact to fool around during every single wedding we go to. She was down.

We figured the best time to execute our secret mission was during the father-daughter dance, since all eyes would be focused on the bride. As soon as “Tiny Dancer” started playing, we slipped out and ran towards a garden shed we’d spotted earlier, on the outskirts of the country club hosting us.
We screwed like mad, and we both came really fast. As we were getting dressed, we noticed a waiter leaning up against a nearby tree, smoking a joint. The idea that we’d been watched didn’t creep us out at all—it was sexy, and hilarious. We waived to the guy, high-fived and headed back to the party like nothing had happened. We’ve fucked at ten different weddings since, but nothing compares to that first time when we had a little audience of our own. I really do love my wife.”sources

This is what happens when you trade fruit for a make-out session.

This is what happens when you trade fruit for a make-out session.

“On the last day of Burning Man (the annual arts festival held in the middle of the Nevada desert, in case you don’t know about that kind of shit), my girlfriend and I found ourselves with a surplus of fruit but nothing substantial to eat. Since there’s nothing to buy at Burning Man, you have to trade what you’ve got for what you want. So my friend and I decided to do some bartering. Wearing jean shorts, pasties, and cowboy hats, we marched around camp screaming: “Melons! We’ve got melons! Who wants some melons?”

We attracted a lot of attention and earned some hearty snacks. But when this one super hot guy approached us and asked for some watermelon, my gut told me to demand a kiss instead of food in exchange for the fruit. We embraced in the most amazingly passionate, impromptu way, and then he handed me his business card and ducked away.
Two months later, I was passing through my watermelon crush’s hometown of San Francisco and we met up for dinner. Back at his place, it quickly became apparent that he was into BDSM. Since our entire relationship up until then was based on seizing the moment, I decided to go with the flow, even though I had zero related experience. I let him pin me down and tie me up. It was intense and fun. I woke up with the distinct feeling that I’d never see him again (to this day, I haven’t)—but th. sources

It’s good to give (female, 34)

                                         It’s good to give (female, 34)

In my late 20s, I traveled all over Europe with a close girlfriend. It was our last day in Bulgaria when an impressively well-built guy with really thick dark eyebrows walked into our hostel. I was more physically attracted to him than I’d been to anyone in a long time, and after months of backpacking without hooking up, I was downright thirsty for sex. Looking around the tent, I could tell I wasn’t the only interested party. I’m not aggressive by nature, but I knew I had to trample the competition fast—or miss my chance.
Once my target set his bags down, I grabbed him by the arm and ushered him outside. We chatted for two minutes in the dark, during which time I learned two things about him: He was a British-Indian amateur boxer, which explained the toned body, and he was seven years older than I was. That was enough for me to yank his belt off and pull his pants down. Right outside the packed hostel, I gave him a blowjob with more gusto than I’d ever .  sources