a fantasy (partially) fulfilled

As long as I can remember, I’ve had a fantasy about porn theaters. Most of the time, it’s pretty demure – go there with a lover, cop some naughty feels, maybe kneel on the sticky floor and take him in my mouth while he watches the action onscreen.

In my fantasy, the “theater” looks like one of those lovely old theaters before the word multiplex became part of our culture’s lexicon.

Velvet drapes, velvet covered seats, now tawdry and run down, cracks in the ceiling. (For any Torontonians out there, I’m thinking along the lines of The Danforth Music Hall. Only smaller.)

And I always picture myself with my lover in the back seats, where I can see a few men further down, their shoulders moving a little as they touched themselves through their clothes, but they aren’t close enough to see me.

At least, that’s in the demure version.

Sometimes, the fantasy gets wicked naughty. It involves my lover pulling out my tits and playing with my nipples. Some of the men notice. They seem torn between watching what’s happening on screen and what’s happening in the rear of the theater. My lover slides his fingers up my thigh, under the short skirt I’m wearing. I’m moaning now, my sounds competing with the grunting in the film.

Slowly, one man makes his way back to the second-last row of seats; he’s stopped watching the film altogether, interested in what’s happening live in front of him. My lover slides his hand into my hair, pushing my head down to his waiting, naked, hard cock. I kneel on the dirty, sticky floor and begin to suck him. And while I do so, he flips up my skirt, high over my ass, showing off my ass and sticky pussy to our voyeur. Before long, the other two or three men in the theater have also moved back, watching us, stroking themselves as I make wet nasty noises around my lover’s cock, fingering my pussy at the same time. Making crude remarks about me and commenting how much I look like I need a good fucking.


At any rate, I explained some of this fantasy (though not quite all the naughty bits – oops, guess the cat is out of the bag now) to the boy when he told me that there are still porn theaters in Toronto. Who knew?

Well, he decided to surprise me the other night. We were shopping downtown when oops, would you look at that, here’s the porn theaters he told me about! Of course, I had to see them for myself.

They were about the size I figured, though much cleaner than I’d supposed. And not at all shabby chic. But sadly, the back row was taken on each side by a lone man. I’ll be honest – I was too nervous to look in their laps to see if they were stroking themselves.

So we grabbed two seats together about halfway down. The porn was interesting enough, for porn – the boy and I traded some naughty whispers, and he kept rubbing my nipple through my sweater until I was squirming and nearly ready to throw myself on the floor and beg him to do me right there.

That is, until a new man came in and sat himself in the seats directly across from us. Oh, about ten feet away, maybe less.

Isn’t there an unspoken etiquette about not sitting in the same row as another person when you’re in an x-rated theater? It’s not like I know this for sure – I’d never done this before. But men have these rules about everything else (don’t take the urinal next to someone if one further away is available, don’t look at the person beside you, etc.), it seems like there must be some unspoken rules about this.

We continued with our naughty whispers, though less touching now (I think the boy was trying to respect my privacy, with this stranger in our line of sight). And then some movement caught my eye.

The stranger (a young guy, maybe in his twenties) had his pants around his ankles. His legs were completely bare, and rising up from his lap was this very long, very hard cock. His hand was stroking gently.

God god god. This stuff just doesn’t happen to me! 🙂

But there it was, in all its glory. I couldn’t resist looking again – ok, truth be told, I watched him stroke himself as much as I could without being too obvious about it. It was absolutely wild.

The boy was shocked when I told him what was going on. But instead of being offended that I was watching (god bless the boy) he encouraged me to watch. Knew how much it was turning me on.

We left very shortly thereafter. We’re both a little less daring in reality than in the wicked depths of our minds. Thus far, at least. So no, I didn’t go over to the stranger or acknowledge him in any way. No, the boy didn’t strip me naked, finger me in front of the lad, offer him a better view of my pussy while I did naughty things on the floor.

But I was left wondering if he was hoping we would.

ladies and gentlemen, your attention please

I’m a naughty, naughty girl.

But I’ve finally received the spanking that was so long overdue. It hasn’t whipped me into obedience, quite yet – but I will say that oh, how I have missed the feel of a big, strong hand connecting with my tender bottom.

The boy knows how to spank. Damn. Shudder.

Perhaps, with due diligence and earnest application of discipline, I will in time become more obedient.

Or not. 😉

pretty new legs

Well, the imagined new design is now cut, styled and up for your perusal. It’s been tested in most major browsers on PC, but if it looks wonky for you, please let me know.

Finally, I have a blogroll of sorts – been meaning to do so for ages, if only for myself so I can hop down to my favourite sites anytime I like.

Can you believe I’ve been doing this for five years? It’s the 2nd longest running site I’ve ever maintained. Whew. Time flies when you’re horny!

Hopefully, this new design (coupled with the very naughty new boy in my life) will inspire oodles of interesting posts for your delectation.
Until then…

redesign coming soon

Amusingly, just as soon as I complained about not having enough time to do some reconstruction work on this blog, I got inspired by a snazzy illustration and reworked the whole canoodle in an hour in Photoshop. It’s sexy and I think you’ll all like it; look for it within the next week or so.

I see the new boy in my life this evening. Strange, to be this excited about seeing someone. After two years of being alone, it’s an odd sensation to be so looking forward to his phone calls, his visits, and most definitely his kisses.

Did I mention he loves to tease? It’s enough to make a girl’s knees go weak. Damn, but he knows how to push my buttons!

dee lucky girl

DeeGee Girl wrote recently:

He laid me on the bed and ran his hands across my body. “I need to fuck your ass,” he said quietly. There was no preamble. No foreplay. But I was so turned on by the prospect that I leaned on my side and waited for him to lube himself up.

She goes on to write about a wonderfully decadent time had by all, with just the right touch of D/s to make my toes curl.

Lucky girl.

catching up

So… haven’t been many posts lately. Thank goodness we can always depend on DW and the newly-returned-from-salacious-orgy Bacchus. Yes, I know there are thousands of other sex bloggers out there, and I read them occasionally (if I ever get to it, I’ll also have a blogroll of sorts on the side, but that requires a redesign, and as you’ll see, my time is limited). But those are the two I read every day without fail.


There are very good reasons, this time – well, there are always good reasons for being too busy to post. But not very sexy ones, at least not all the time. Most of the time over the last six months it’s been because juggling two jobs (my day job, and the home based biz I’m building) has gotten hairy and the last thing I can find the energy to do is think about sex, much less blog about it.

Thankfully, these times don’t happen too often or Vikki wouldn’t be a very happy girl.

But this time around, I’m lucky enough that it hasn’t been work taking over my very ability to breathe. It’s been a boy.

Yes, I heard that gasp, you, in the back row. Shaddap. 🙂

We met a few weeks ago, and we’ve been either seeing each other or on the phone for-freaking-ever pretty much every night since. I’d forgotten what it was like to talk on the phone till all hours of the day and night, to stay up until it’s nearly dawn. We get along like a raging brushfire.

He has the ability to curl my toes with a look, a word, a touch.

And damn, the man’s a great kisser.

I hesitate to say more just yet because y’know, I do have the innate ability to jinx these things.

So for now, that’s all you get. *laughs* More soon, I promise!

just found the toy of my dreams

Oh. My. God.

I just found it. I have no idea how it would feel to wear it, but oh, how I would die to experience it.

The TongueJoy vibrator.

The idea, really, of the tongue – and vibration – at the same time – argh.

Reminds me of one of the few times I actually came via oral sex – we were trying out my very first silver bullet. Myself, and He With The Magical Hands.

Which reminds me, I still haven’t told that story yet.

But I can’t right now. I – er – have other things to take care of first.

Thanks to Fleshbot for the link.

losing my virginity, part 2

A while back I posted losing my virginity, part 1. A reader recently reminded me I never did post part 2, which is equally funny in its own way. So here goes.

A few months after the first attempt, I was re-dating a boyfriend I’d been very close to in high school. I had wanted to give him my virginity, anyway, back then, so sure. He could be the one.

After a few weeks of dates, we decided we were going to Do It. And everything felt very normal—kissing, fooling around—this was common ground. We’d done this before. I was nervous. He said he’d be very careful with me.

I wasn’t really nervous about the pain, though I couldn’t say that to him. I was nervous that I wouldn’t know what to do.

Sounds silly, sure—I’d seen porn by then, had a general concept of the inning and outing, but I wasn’t sure how it would feel, how to move, how fast, in which direction, what?

Somewhere in the middle of this mental tennis game in my head he slipped on a condom and pushed inside of me.

Didn’t hurt. Actually, truth be told, didn’t feel like much at all. Felt OK, I suppose. How was I to know?

I closed my eyes and concentrated hard on “moving right”. I felt so awkward, like my hips were moving in the wrong direction. Kind of like trying to write with your left hand for the first time. You can picture the right movements in your head but your body’s just executing them all wrong.

He was very quiet (always was) but I was sure I was Doing It Wrong.

Sure enough, he stopped after about twenty thrusts.

I was humiliated. More so when he rolled off me and went to the bathroom.

I’d done it wrong. Maybe I was some kind of sexual dyslexic who’d just never get it right. Maybe I shouldn’t have moved at all, just let him move. But no, guys like women who help, right?

Somewhere in all this mental castigation, he came back and laid beside me. Snuggled up to me, a little, and asked me if I was OK.

I was nearly in tears. I swallowed them, and whispered quietly to him, “I’m sorry I didn’t do it right.”

He sat up a little and looked at me. “What do you mean?”

“I’m sorry I was moving the wrong way. I’m just new at this.”

He looked surprised. “You were fine.”

“Then why did you stop?”

He shrugged. “I came.”

Thankfully, I eventually learned that men could last for more than twenty strokes. 😉

the sexless marriage support forum

You know, being in a sexless marriage was one of the most difficult things in my life. I felt very alone, very ugly, very worthless. And very frustrated, because I found my husband wildly attractive.

The worst part of all, however, was being alone.

The point is, I talked about these times in my life during two major posts: the sexless marriage, and the sexless marriage, redux.

Funny things started to happen over time. Other people started to post their stories. And talk to one another. Wish I’d known there were so many people out there living the same life as mine back when I was married. Before long, I had dozens of heartfelt stories posted to each page. And each one broke my heart.

I wanted to help, but really, I also know that each person has to work things out for themselves. Still, support and knowing you’re not alone count for something.

Because these pages were both incredibly long, it wasn’t practical to leave them up permanently and continue to take comments. So, I’ve closed access to both threads and opened up a message board where people can continue to share their stories and give each other support.

You can find the sexless marriage support forum here:

I’ve got a free trial for 30 days. If enough people find it useful, I’ll fork out the money for a three-month package, and then we’ll take it from there. I hope it serves as a better replacement for the threads I’ve seen in the two posts linked above.

If you run a web site and would like to link to the boards, feel free.