Innocent Male

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A young man's thoughts.
You are my fantasy.

Anonymous asked: Please fuck me like now

Okay. Would you like me to write about it before or after?

1 month ago

Be my teacher

Was her caption.
So concise. A model student.
I had tried to avoid gawking at her stunning breasts all semester. She sat in the front row, poised and attentive, eyes like sapphires, 18. I was 22. It was my first semester teaching high school English. I knew better than to obsess over my star student.
And yet I did.
It all started the day before during my lecture on The Scarlet Letter. She was particularly magnetic; low cut shirt, poised and innocent. As I described Hester’s adultery my eyes unintentionally molested her cleavage, her lips, her mellow gaze. I scolded myself then returned to discretely admiring her irresistible body…slowly undressing her in my mind. Perhaps it was the way she held herself, or how she engaged herself in my words…swooning over every syllable like a precious treasure. Or perhaps I was flattering myself…I had to be.
But she grew more responsive as the lecture advanced. We somehow locked eyes during “together in sin and damnation.” She smiled calmly. “Burning in fire and brimstone” brought her lower lip beneath her teeth, bouncing back in a subtle but clear statement. It was the first time her eyes told me to fuck her, and the first time I had to refuse. I remained lucid and the lecture continued unabated.
She could have been merciful, but she was not, discretely caressing the base of her neck…slowly twirling a lock of hair between her fingers. Her chest heaved slightly as I described the risk of the scandal…the danger. Her body was body rife with arousal, in my mind, at least. The rest of the class was mentally absent, as usual, and oblivious as I watched her hand move to her though, then inch slowly inward.
The desk obstructed the view, but I imagined her hand between her legs, discretely loving herself through the thin fabric of her yoga pants. I extended my lecture to emphasize some key points, and to observe her as she grew increasingly distant, then vacant. I couldn’t be sure if her eyes rolled back, her eyelids quivering. She noticed the bulge in my pants as I stood in front of her desk, and I turned away, taking a seat at my desk in front of the classroom.
I dismissed the class and passively asked Diane to stay after. I shuffled through some paperwork and when I looked up her hands were folded on her desk. She looked at me alertly, properly.
I paused, wondering for a moment if I had imagined it all.
“Diane, I know you are already familiar with this story, and well ahead of the class.”
She nodded.
“Would you like the opportunity to earn some extra credit?”
She nodded, a bit more slowly.
“Diane, I want to make sure you are sufficiently challenged, so I am not going to propose a specific assignment. Please choose your own assignment…one you consider a challenge. Be brave. Seek the truth. Don’t be afraid to demand much of yourself. You have a lot of potential, and I want to help you succeed. Your first assignment is to tell me what I can do to help you achieve. Do you understand?”
She nodded once more and left the classroom.

1 month ago
1 note

It was her stop and I saw her waiting. Petite, red hair, plaid green blouse, short skirt, bright red nail polish. Stunning. She entered the crowded bus and sat across from me. We exchanged smiles, as we did often, being frequent co-travelers. Today hers lingered for a moment. I figured it could be the nice weather, or the convenient open seat. I looked back and she was gazing out the window, smiling to herself, being delicately sexy as usual.
My head was buried in my phone, as it often was during the after-work commute, yet I couldn’t help but notice the length of her skirt. It was quite short and I found myself glancing upon skin beyond the usual comfort zone. I averted my gaze, then looked straight ahead. As I did, our eyes caught again. I felt shame invading my spine, but she was smiling and appeared playful. She turned again to look out the window. I returned to my phone and, again, couldn’t help but detect her smooth legs, and then gawked in amazement as I noticed her hand, almost undetectably bunching her skirt toward her.
My phone buzzed with a new message. It was a tumblr friend with a wickedly-addicting sex blog I had been following for a while. The message read:
“Look up, stranger, I want you to see something.”
In an insane moment, I looked up enough to notice her pulling her skirt higher, giving my eyes clear access to her bare, smooth pussy. It was a fleeting glimpse, and then she was smiling, poking at her touch screen…
Another message appeared on my phone:
“The next stop is mine. You should get off. ;-)”

3 months ago
24 notes

We embrace in mutual meditation. I breathe…in…out, slowly. I count silently…one…two. Simplicity. There is no future, no past. There is only now. I escape the external world and enter myself. I allow consciousness to relieve me. I let go. I dismiss the trivial thoughts as they appear and breathe…one…two…in…out. There is nothing else and I whisper such softly. One minute, two minutes, three. Eventually, through concentration, I begin to see through the haze. I enter my mind and open my eyes to discover hers. They are bright and clear, and I wonder how long I have been here. An eternity, perhaps. I notice my hands are on her back and she straddles me, our bodies melded in a calm, tender union. We are comfortably aware, and the oneness we have achieved in ourselves is aware of the other. Although I push my thoughts away I discover I cannot dismiss her warm breath against my shoulder, or the intimacy of her subtle, subconscious movements. Her warm thighs wrap around my waist. There is a yearning for a higher oneness and gravity pulls us together. We both pursue mental clarity and encourage each other, our eyes locked in concentration. We choose to deny the physical, and seek the spiritual. We strive for inner peace, and yet our breathing is deeper, and our hearts are pounding in protest as we fight the inevitable struggle…the one we have chosen. And as push away all sensation her scent grows sweeter, her breasts ever softer against me, her face more alluring. I close my eyes. I turn inward to restore control, although I accept that oneness cannot be achieved alone. I have grown solid against her, and rest soundly within her warmth. I open my eyes and hers are serene. They invite me. We are at peace, and with temperance I effortlessly glide beyond an imperceptible threshold, resting comfortably insider her. She has opened herself, and there is little sensation, and yet there is relief as we maintain our meditative composure. We seek oneness though the necessity, and begin to depart the frivolity of life. We slow our breathing and my fingers caress her back and shoulders. We have been here before. We have lived a lifetime within each other, although we are destined to push ourselves to new heights…to discover…to live more profoundly. We approach the mystical experience of minds in cosmic union…using our bodies as a conduit. The seconds grow long as the slightest touch feels electric in its influence. A retreat from the physical has welcomed a hypersensitivity to every subtle brush of her nipples against my chest…every small adjustment of her hips atop my thighs. Our lips can only touch tenderly, and in strict moderation to buffer the sensual shock that courses through us. And while our supple lips engaged I expand within her, or she contracts, or both, and inertia brings our bodies together in an involuntary, reflexive motion. We monitor each other carefully as I place my hands beneath her lower curves and escort the reflex with my hands, acquiescing to her whim as she rolls forward, then back, then forward again. Our movements are like waves of the ocean…simple and natural…not aggressive or provocative. They are not pleasure, but they escape pain…the pain of stasis…and we breathe…one…two…in…out. We have been here before, so many times, and we look at each other with a calm knowingness of our inevitable future. It is not determined, but the battlefield awaits, and she wraps her arms around my neck as her hips advance with force and regularity. We are becoming slaves, and we know this. We are giving ourselves, but we release to the other, and the other alone. We desire to tempt fate…to persist indefinitely in a pendulum of oneness, and I bring her against me. My arms feel powerful holding her petite figure. She is smooth and sublime, and I am invincible…a stone fortress. Indestructible. She grows light as a feather, and as we persist, a discomfort gradually appears, and I look into her eyes as I pull her against me with greater force for relief. There is tranquility, peace, and we lock our breathing once more as I engage her with greater severity. Beneath us there are crashing waves of lust and desire. Above, in each others’ eyes, there are universes of consciousness floating together in complete serenity. We approach each other on the celestial battlefield as she begins to tighten around me, and the crashing waves turn to slow, cosmic pulses, invading our bodies…attacking our unified existence. We do not stop, but accept the inevitable challenge, our bodies joined in a desperate collaboration against our singularity. We do not give up on each other, but remain one in a timeless perfection of mind that we would gladly endure until death if possible. And our bodies slow to a crawl as we delay the inevitable…for minutes…hours…days. We have no clue. We cannot tell time outside ourselves, and only know the end will arrive. I am deep inside as I quiver, and she blinks. Whatever the source of the cascade, it has begun, and we accept it together as statues, eyes locked. The sympathetic waves of her vaginal walls embrace each pulse…shallow at first, and then with severe, clenching force…supremely equipped to drain the last drop of fluid from my emaciated body. There is peace in her eyes throughout, and love as we gradually flow back into our respective bodies, admiring again the distinction, and returning to that familiar awe and curiosity…that we might once again discover a deeper consciousness together…explore greater heights within each other as one.

4 months ago
11 notes

4 months ago
61 notes

New job. First day. Everyone was kind and hospitable. I was an editor working directly under the executive management staff. They had sought me out and made an impressive offer, so I took the job, even though I didn’t know exactly what I’d be doing.
My boss was Anna. She was in her early 30’s, a bit younger than me, and quite attractive. Petite and graceful, but also very capable and professional. She basically ran the company and had built it up from nothing. Apparently, she was determined to get me hired and lobbied for a generous salary. I liked her…the type of woman who gets what she wants.
I was hanging a picture when Anna stepped into my office. Heels, knee-length business skirt, and a light, striped blouse.
“So, are you getting comfortable,” she said, smiling.
I nodded and thanked her for her hospitality. I said I was looking forward to getting started. She said she was delighted, and wanted to share a few more details regarding my position.
“I’m going to get right to the point.”
She looked directly into my eyes as she twisted a lock of long brown hair on her chest.
“You aren’t as innocent as you seem…are you?”
I tried desperately to think of what she could be talking about. They had my background check. It was clean, of course.
She moved closer.
“Are you…” she said gently, with the slightest smile.
I was intensely curious what she was talking about. I stood still and silent as her mouth approached my ear.
“Oh, I’ve read all about you” she whispered as her hand gracefully slipped down my pants and gently cradled my phallus. “And I want to read more.”
She released my genitals and backed away slightly.
“You write that blog. I know you do.”
I felt my heart start pounding. ‘Oh fuck,’ I thought.
“You’re a very dirty boy.”
I was speechless.
“I’m going to go back to my office now, and your first assignment is to sit down and write something. Make it dirty. That’s why I hired you. Post it within the hour. Then, exactly one hour from now, report to my office for your first review. Do you understand?”
I nodded once.
“If you are not comfortable with this assignment, please resign now. This will be an essential part of your regular obligations.”
She turned and left, retreating with a deviant smile.
I sat down half-confused, half-terrified. ‘Holy fuck, did that just happen?’ I logged in and wrote out the scene that had just taken place. As I did, I described her delicate features, her penetrating eyes, her relentless determination. I wrote about the subtle want in her whisper…the natural way her hand entered my pants and effortlessly found my cock, slowly turning her velvet fingers around it. As I wrote I grew increasingly fond for her, and my terror evolved to arousal, then infatuation. ‘I’ll give her dirty,’ I thought. I decided I would write about fucking her in her office on her first day…

I walked in and saw her at her desk, staring at the monitor. She looked up at me knowingly. I closed the door with a ‘click,’ and she began unbuttoning her blouse. I advanced. She looked into my eyes as she rolled her chair back against a cabinet, holding her breasts. I stood in front of her for a moment to take her in, to admire her eyes, her lips, her neck…my story girl, in the flesh. I couldn’t help but worship her as I enjoyed her pleading eyes, her body squirm subtly in anticipation. Yes. This is what she wants from me. No. This is what she lives for. To be the fantasy…the goddess. My sex goddess. I fell to my knees in front of her, pushing her skirt up as it bunched around her waist. I pressed my lips softly against her labia, my tongue penetrating her moist and eager lips. Her hand found the back of my head and applied the slightest pressure to increase the intensity as I delivered ample, targeted fluttering. She spread her legs wider, breathing heavily, offering sublime sighs. I wanted her ready for me. I wanted her hot cunt desperate for my throbbing cock. I needed to give it to her hard and fast. I wanted to tell her this as I lapped, growling it into her ear. My mouth was occupied, but I knew exactly what she was thinking. I knew she was thinking about how much I wanted to plunge my cock deep insider her…to start fucking her hard and fast…to not stop until I explode inside her. She can see these words on her screen as I bury my head between her legs, pressing two fingers into her molten maw. She is completely open and responsive, allowing my mouth to take her, letting go of her body as the lust grows intense…deeper, darker…granting access to her twisted, insatiable inner sex freak. Such a stark contrast from her polished exterior. Her moans drive me crazy…knowing she needs this insane office sex fantasy realized…not just today, but constantly…as I make a career out of furnishing it for her. I think about the next day, the day after, as my mouth pummels her swollen clit. I decide I need to fuck her.
I stand up and remove my pants as she bends over her desk, softly pleading for my cock. Her legs are spread and I place my hands on her hips and squeeze as I enter her. After the first moments of penetration I turn greedy and wrap my hands around her waist and thrust relentlessly, deeply. I want to use her and I hold nothing back. I know this is how it has been written, and I will myself toward orgasm, using her as an object of pleasure. “Oh, please. Do it. Come in me” she whispers as I pound her from behind. I reach forward and grasp her long wavy hair. She knows this means I am about to empty inside her, and she responds with gentle squeezing, encouraging me, bringing me over the edge. I engage her ferociously as I flirt with the point of no return, and finally spill deep inside her in powerful waves of pleasure. I allow my cock rest inside her until the last waning quivers and then withdraw, releasing the strands of her hair from my fists.
We clothe ourselves, exchange parting words, and I await my next assignment.

I walked in and saw her at her desk, staring at the monitor. She looked up at me knowingly…
“Now do it.”

4 months ago
165 notes

Him: Hey, I saw you liked my blog. Will you be my girlfriend for the day?
Her: sure ok
Him: So, sweetheart, what are you doing today?
Her: i’m taking sexy pictures of myself and posting them on tumblr
Him: Why are you doing that?
Her: because i’m so horny and all alone today. i wanted you to notice me.
Him: really?
Her: yeah, i decided i want to be in one of your sex fantasies so I can read it over and over as I touch myself
Him: Mmm. Sounds nice, so what should it be about?
Her: well, it should be your fantasy and i’ll be your inspiration, so that’s why you should come over right now so I can, um, inspire you (he he).
Him: To your place?
Her: yeah, it will be fun! i’m at *address* just let yourself in and come upstairs. i’m on the bed naked. by the time you leave you’ll have plenty to write about. and I know you’ll share all the details. :) remember, i’m your girlfriend all day long.
Him: Um. Seems like the fantasy has already started. Are you sure about this?
Her: yes. i’d just melt to feel your hands on my skin, your breath, your lips. i’m dreaming of feeling your cock grow hard in my mouth. oh please use me. spank me, fuck me. cum all over me. unf. ooooh, i’m just so wet right now thinking about it. you have to. pretty please?
Him: I’m 1900 miles away.
Her: i know. i wish you weren’t cause i mean every word. i’m so mean.

4 months ago
10 notes

As she talked I could hardly hear what she was saying. I just gazed at her lips and imagined how they would feel as they first embraced the tip of my hard, quivering cock.
We met at an upscale Irish pub. It was a weeknight so the place was mostly dead. I was sitting at the bar when she walked in. Hazel, sparkling eyes, smooth complexion. She wore shiny earnings and a silver wing necklace. Her hair was brown with maybe some red, more than shoulder-length but party pinned back. She wore no lipstick. There was an organic sense about her that I liked immediately. I found her very beautiful.
We found a table and I told her it was nice to see her. I repeated myself and she knew what I was saying. She smiled. Her smile was irresistible, and I wanted to see it again, and again. I found her comfortable and we chatted flirtatiously for a few minutes. Two of our common interests happened to be good grammar and lots of hot sex, so I was persuaded to share some erotic literature I had composed years ago. I handed her my phone and cringed. (I hadn’t read it for years either). It was a story about a technical writer in a crowded lecture hall sharing sexy notes with his horny, attractive neighbor…eventually writing her to orgasm. I found myself strangely aroused as my table mate read. (There’s something uniquely erotic about sharing homebrew smut with a near stranger in a public place…like footsie, or whispering dirty secrets at Christmas dinner.) She handed back the phone and told me it would take more for her to orgasm. Honest. Sexy. ‘How much more’ I thought to myself…
The smut was our segue to a discussion about sex, especially (in my memory) her love of oral sex…giving oral sex. She explained how much she enjoys pleasing a man…how she likes the feeling of a hard phallus in her mouth…how she finds it intensely erotic…like she has a clit in the back of her throat. I listened quietly and asked her to elaborate. Reluctantly, cheeks turning red, she disclosed that a gentleman who had been subjected to her talent was unable to walk immediately after. She had my attention.
Enchanted, my eyes locked to her lips as she further explained her agreeable fetish. I suspected they were more than adequate for the task, and she was the kind of woman who deserved them. She was elegant but brave…a mind endowed with the intoxicating obsession to invoke a religious experience using nothing but her eager mouth; those delicious lips. I decided the fortunate phallus that swells between them ought to be attached to a particular kind of gentleman…a man who can sufficiently appreciate the the pace, the depth, the usage of the tongue, the application of suction, the nuance. There is no teaching the art of bringing a man to nirvana this way. It is a gift, and one that demands a subject capable of nurturing this gift to its most extreme, spiritual potential. It was clear that, if required, I would be a willing and qualified subject.
Later, as we parted, I felt her lips slowly engage mine. They were unmercifully tender and salacious, removing all doubt as to their perfection. I wanted their warmth desperately, sliding lightly down my shaft, awakening my consciousness to new sensations and realities. I needed her to attempt to satisfy her deep, secret, unrelenting obsession to be a goddess of pleasure as my hands run gently through her hair.
She left as fast as she arrived, allowing my imagination to ferment and ingest what it had seen, heard, and felt…as any sufficiently ruthless goddess of pleasure does.

4 months ago
5 notes

Lisa worked in my office, upper management. She stood about 5’. Lovely small tits, firm ass, long, dark, wavy hair. Beautiful. We had never even had a conversation. Just small talk. She’d stand outside my manager’s office, right next to my cube, talking shop in her luscious jeans. Made it impossible to work. One day she caught me staring. It was obvious, so I just looked up at her with a sort of “got me” expression. She turned and walked away. Totally embarrassing, but after that we’d smile at each other as we crossed paths around the office.
One morning soon after that an anon referenced this pretty graphic pic. Caption: “God I need this today. If you’re game, and you know who this is, schedule a meeting today at 3. Don’t be shy.” I immediately imagined it was Lisa, but it couldn’t be. I was completely anonymous. Anyway, she was a total professional. But, there was her ass again, right next door. ‘Damn’ I thought. In a moment of insanity I scheduled the meeting. Couldn’t resist. I figured if it wasn’t her she would just ignore the invite. The request was accepted minutes later.
I sat mostly in shock until 3, trying to think of some excuse without success. At the fated time, her office door was cracked. I knocked gently. “Oh, hi.” she said, shuffling some papers. “Come on in.” I pushed the door open and walked inside, holding the door handle…
“open or closed?”
“Your call,” she stated, “you scheduled the meeting.”
I slowly closed the door. She was sitting on the front of her desk, leaning slightly back. She looked up squarely, arms crossed…
“So, what can I do for you?”
All business. Instant terror. It wasn’t her.
I was speechless and it was painfully obvious. I had nothing, but said something like “oh, actually, I solved the issue I was dealing with last minute, but instead of cancelling I thought I’d come say hi - we’ve both worked here for months and hardly spoken.”
She lowered her head, eyes straight forward, as if to say ‘are you kidding me?’
Fuck, I’m such an idiot. She continued tersely:
“You know, I’m rather booked today. I need to get to business.”
I nodded and started to leave as her plume of long hair escaped, falling down dramatically over her shoulders. She tilted her head back and I gawked at the thick waves moving from side to side, almost touching the desk. She relaxed her shoulders and back, one palm on the desk behind her. With her other hand she pulled a strand down in front of her, twirling it between her thumb and middle finger as she bit her lip, looking at me coyly…assertively. She was transformed…like I had never seen her…and looked at me earnestly, like she wanted to be cum on.
Her eyes moved to the door handle. I turned to lock the door, and when I looked back she was pulling her pants and underwear to the floor. She kicked them to the side and sat on her desk, then leaned back, raising one leg. There it was. The triangle hovering above her smooth pussy. If she wasn’t the girl in the picture, she might as well have been. Holy fuck.
Her eyes locked with mine as she slowly dragged her shirt up, revealing her navel. Her hand found her breast and she whimpered. I approached and began to take her in, still shifting gears…recovering from the jarring change in circumstances. I looked down at her tight belly, and up slowly to her graceful neck, chin, lips. Her hypnotic eyes drew me closer until I stood almost against her, at the edge of the desk. She licked her lips and her jaw dropped, eyes rolling slightly back, seething with arousal. In my stupor I hadn’t noticed her hand move securely between her legs. I removed my belt, and my lower garments fell to the floor.
Her breathing grew deep and steady as she worked herself casually but efficiently. I moved closer, dangerously close. She looked into my eyes and gently took hold of my hand, guiding my fingers between her hot, slippery lips. She shuddered and closed her eyes as I pushed two fingers into her. Then, accepting her guidance, I slowly withdrew, glazed with her sweet, molten lava love. She moved my hand against my cock, wrapping my fingers, and her contribution was enough to stroke myself firm. She smiled brightly and lifted her left leg over my shoulder, allowing her hand go to work as mine responded in kind. She began to writhe and whimper, breathing heavily, engaging herself assertively…aggressively. I could feel her warmth on my hand as I a I pushed my cock between her slippery lips. “Mmmm,” she murmured, thrusting her pelvis forward. She was warm…hot. I nuzzled my tip up and down between her lips as she worked her clit. I looked at her as I began to enter. She shook her head slightly and rubbed her belly, biting her lower lip. I slid once more from bottom to top, running a few circles over her clit, then applied the slickness down the full length of my shaft and began bringing myself off in long, frequent strokes.
She smiled and told me she was going to come. She started whispering “do it. put it on me.” “put it on my belly.” I tried to relax and concentrate. She began to shake and leaned forward. She moved her leg off my shoulder and wrapped her free hand around my neck, breathing deeply against my ear. The intensity increased as she squatted, holding her breasts against me, squirming and whispering unintelligible nothings, her dedicated hand in motion….inspiring me…provoking. “mmm.” she said in broken words. “watch me. watch me come…” She leaned back. I watched her jaw drop and her body quiver as she brought herself closer. She looked at me begging…pleading…and that’s when I lost it, feeling the fierce contractions begin deep within me…as if she was squeezing me with her gaze.
She orgasmed as I painted her, spilling generously over her belly, up to her navel…some of it falling on her hand and legs as she bucked and convulsed. Her body continued, trailing off gradually as I squeezed the last drop over her inner thigh.
We spent a few moments in recovery, and she began playfully rubbing the white fluid around with her finger.
We got dressed and I thanked her for meeting with me. She said the pleasure was hers, and said she appreciated our new business relationship. She then asked for a full report on my blog, which I submitted shortly after.

5 months ago
745 notes

It’s her smile that kills me. Those wicked lips. I’m not supposed to get hard when I see them, but I do. We share greetings in passing. I am like a mentor, a role model, a professional. She is astute, talented, diligent. Today we exchanged pleasantries and then shared a parting smile. I try not to notice her amazing breasts, lovely figure, adorable chin. She’s sexy as hell and as she walked away, in that fleeting glimpse, her lips turned evil. They always do. It’s subtle. I’m not supposed to see it, but I know what a dirty girl she is. That’s why my cock starts to grow. An hour before she wanted cum on her tits. She was wet and begging to be fucked. I know because I was reading her blog. I do all the time. She has no idea. Or does she? Responsible adults aren’t supposed to read sex blogs like this, right? These days whenever I see her around all I can think about is sex…bending her over my desk, pulling her dress up, spanking her. I want to pull her panties to the side and fuck her right there. I want to grab her hair with one hand, wrap my other around her waist, and pound her wet, begging pussy like some savage animal. It’s a disease. I finally broke down and sent her an anonymous note. I told her to send me something sexy and I’d tell her what I think. She sends this. Those lips. “Stop trying to fuck me and fuck me.” I’d ask for mercy but I’m a fiend. Tell me more…show me more. Maybe I won’t fuck you, but I’ll tell you about it anyway…

10 months ago
3 notes

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