hot action

It's Monday afternoon. Oh, I met a really pretty girl, we wound up having sex last night. It was hot. I knew within seconds of laying eyes on her that it was going to happen. She knew too. Don't you love it when that happens? We were introduced, and then we just looked at each other and smiled, and we gave each other a hug. And everything went all tingly.

I'm looking at porn right now because my erection won't leave me alone. Really I just want to go back over to her apartment.

Pretty lips that turn bright red when I fuck her. Such a hot body... I lift her legs up in the air and look at her face and our eyes lock together...

(With me it's all about recognition. We saw each other and we both just knew. So calm, none of the manipulation that I associate with the word "seduction." It's so much better to meet a beautiful woman and recognize her, as if she's already been a lover all along. Just waiting for the right moment to enter my life.)

We had a threesome. The whole evening flowed so smoothly, from the cordial to the carnal. It was perfect. The elegance of erotic escalation.

Would you like me to write about it all in explicit loving detail? I should probably go eat some breakfast.

Posted by philip at 02:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

How's your love life these days?

Posted by philip at 11:22 AM | Permalink | Comments (5)

I'm technical director on a film festival so I've been quite busy lately. Everything wraps up this weekend so I'll be back soon. I've been scribbling in my notebook whenever I get a chance and I have lots to post about. Thank you for the emails, my luscious lovelies.

Posted by philip at 03:52 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

There's hardly any traffic at this time of night. The rain has stopped. The city sleeps. Flashing red lights reflect off the pavement.

Stealing in and out of the mist, a car with three occupants glides like a dream through wet streets.

Inside the car the driver has the stereo cranked up loud. Raw female vocals over a pulsing electro bassline. Scandalous lyrics urge our trio forward into the night.

Low motion in the backseat. I'm being straddled by a hot woman with her shirt off.

The car passes under a streetlight and a slow stripe of illumination glides across her firm, sexy breasts. In this same flash of light I catch a glimpse of the driver's eyes in the rearview mirror.

The driver is watching us. And I suspect that's not all she's doing.

With my hands on my lover's waist I pull her close, put my mouth on her body, licking and sucking her breasts. I take one of her nipples between my thumb and forefinger, and I know she likes it, so I pinch it, hard.

A soft moan in my ear. "Mmm, baby."

I push her down on the seat, out of sight: a tease to a voyeur. The interior of the car is rich with the scent of arousal. Even over the music I'm sure the driver can still hear us kissing and making out.

Her body writhes beneath me on the seat. My hand slides up between her legs, but I sense a moment of hesitation, so I stop. I can tell she wants to ask me something. Finally her voice comes as a whisper in my ear: "Are you sure she's OK with all this?"

I have to smile. "Just a second." I sit up and lean forward to have a word with the driver.

"Turn the music down," I say. She obeys. "Do you know what we're doing back here?"

"Yes."

"Does it turn you on?"

"Yes."

"OK," I say. "That's good."

I lean back in the seat, still holding a pair of bare legs across my lap.

The driver turns the music back up and resumes driving, one hand on the steering wheel.

Chauffeur! I'll take you where you need to go.

~~
soundtrack: The Fitness - Chauffeur [5.6MB mp3]
~~

Posted by philip at 05:36 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

I made a silly little post on Swordfight about how I've been too lazy to eat and also about how I'd declined an invitation to go pay a lady a social visit. Subsequently I received a few emails from people asking me if I've been feeling OK. Yes, I'm fine. My sex drive is fine. I just had to reiterate that I'm a bachelor first and a slut second.

My definite of "bachelor" breaks down into fifty percent promiscuity and fifty percent solitude. I spent the weekend alone at home, didn't see or speak to another human being, and enjoyed it quite a bit.

The other night an anonymous reader in North Battleford, Saskatchewan sent me a photo of her slammin' curves in the hopes of perking me up. I'd say it worked.

Her message encourages me to eat some real food and "go get laid, darling boy. Then write about it." I will do that, just for you. Thank you for thinking about me way out here in the woods.

Much of my happiness has been a result of the thoughtfulness of beautiful women. Sexy photos rule, and I'm sure it's only a matter of time before one of you ladies figures out a way to email me a nice hot bowl of Thai curry.

Posted by philip at 04:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)