Tag Archives: tease

Ride it like you stole it

Right leg here, left leg far over there…

You may be humping and thumping, the bed might be bumping and the boots maybe knocking but, what is your technique saying?
Is there regular, consistent flow?
Are you keeping it interesting and ice dripping, making your partner not know what the hell is going on, even though your eyes are open?
Are you really riding it like you stole it?

@asturdivant made me wonder…

Made me wonder about that part of sex… the part that is like the major breakdown of a good song. You know, when the singer commands the band to breakdown on the one! (See: James Brown, Prince, D’Angelo)
It usually comes around the third quarter of a sex session; after foreplay, inbetween oral, possibly before anal (if you take it there).

Knocking around your libido, making you want more than you can get, there’s foul language (‘Oh you’re trying to OWN this pussy ain’t ya?’), possible nail digging, frantic grabbing, real hard grinding with teeth clattering kisses and face cupping stares.
This is the part of the sex when you momentarily hear whatever slow jam is playing in the background and sing it in your head because the lyrics are linking perfectly with what your feeling.
A preferred favourite is Jill Scott’s Crown Royal.
I know I mention Jill a lot but, DAMN, if that woman isn’t talented. Even her speaking voice is audio sex.
Anyone who has Crown Royal on their sextape or phone sex playlist knows the lyrics, but add YOU on a bed, laying down or laying ON someone. You’ve tasted pre-foreplay, licked foreplay and your three positions in.
Possibly two orgasms gone.
You’ve now reached the point where you need to be treated like you stole something. And this is your punishment.

You don’t need to be asked, you need to be TOLD and SHOWN!
It’s at this point you need someone to take control of you and decide for you how it will be done. Because at that point, you trust that they know.
All the while Jill is singing…

“Your hands on my hips
Pull me right back to you
I catch that thrust give it right back to you…”

Your hot, your sweaty, you don’t give a tiny rat’s ass. The person working the supreme bedchamber equestrian form on you is taking you to a realm of pleasure you are rarely able to put words on.
It’s like you can taste the sex in the back of your throat… or maybe you just paused to taste your work (YOU know what I mean).

“You’re in so deep I’m breathing for you
You grab my braids arch my back high for you
Your diesel engine I’m squirting my oil on
I’m down on the floor til my speakers start to boil…”

This is the breakdown of the breakdown.
You want to be touched all over at the same time. You wanted to be licked and sucked, kissed and blessed, you want to grind… nice and rotating hips style.
When you share a kiss, the conversation taking place between your groins is so loud, you can’t hear ya lips smacking.
A lady on her back with a leg up, hooked with her foot and toes flexing in the ether should be telling you to do something right about now.
Should be something along the lines of ‘FUCK ME’.

“I flip ish…” – flip her over in one slick magic movement, always best if you can do so without slipping out. Keep whatever rhythm you had going and don’t let her get a breath in between.

“Quick Slip…” – if you DID slip out by accident, get it in before anyone notices. To be honest, the sensation of slipping out and slipping back in, NOW, goes down REAL well. Simply because you get to reenter along a corridor which already has a buzz like a building lobby.

“Hip Dip…” – trusted… and always impressive, gets ya low and then high as it’s ground in…

“ And I’m twisted, and your hands, and your lips and your tongue tricks…” – you should be definitely, seriously touching something. Holding onto anything. Twiddling this thing. Nibbling that thang… Your intention is purely to massage and marinate the GREAT feeling that she or he is experiencing.
Interlock fingers, stroke a neck, fuck that, lick a neck, suck a lip… oOoOoOoOoOo… definitely suck a lip. That is something real tasty during this point in the good feeling. Build a good feeling while sucking a lip and the orgasm will hit on some next shit…

“And you’re so thick and you’re so big and you’re so… Crown Royal On ice…” – whoever she be should be greasing the pipe with sugar water right about now.
Her eyes should be closed, gripped tight, wide, crossed or rolled right back on some Exorcist shit. Her chest should be heaving like she’s losing a race with her breath. Her hair should be all over the place in some crazy sex style and if she has make up on then she may look like a poor man’s Joker.

But that’s how she wanted it.
The way you worked, made little circles with your hips, were hard and soft, paid attention to what she moaned at and was silent for, etc.
And there was nothing PREMATURE either, which always goes down well when it comes to true blue equestrian headboard demolishing.

It wasn’t about trying to be a jackhammer and pound through the headboard. It wasn’t about putting the dick in fourth gear and coasting for the rest of the journey. It wasn’t even about being the bad cop and hair pulling, bad language and all the other hard stuff.
It was just right.
The way both your hips moved was like the harmony on Jill’s second verse of Crown Royal (for you real music freaks, it’s about 1:14 in).
The way you were giving or receiving was just the perfect form and standardly gets top marks all across the board.
The best way to ride it like you stole it is to let go of the restraints of the vehicle and make it work the best way you know how. There’s no way other way to do it, just to do it.

You could NOT do it, but then that would mean suffering some substandard orgasm that I guess will do, but it’s not scratching the surface of what you are capable of.

More importantly, it’s not making you feel the way you wanted to.

And for your orgasm?

I think its worth riding it out…

So says Mr Oh

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Such a simple sentence

There is something about it.

The idea of it plays with your mind and to see it is like when you watched Seven and found out that it was his wife’s head in the box,

Basically, it leaves your mouth open.

Every freaking time.

There is no way a woman can say this to you and you don’t think to yourself, “DON’T LIE!”

It is a powerful sentence that, once said, can completely change the complexion of an evening, or even a single moment in time.

You could be doing one thing, hear this sentence, and completely forget what you were doing.

Women have mouthed these words from a distance and fucked up a dude’s train of thought.

Your good good friend from way back, the friend who you’ve never looked at in that way can say this to you and turn a friendship into some next shit.

All because she said those words to you.

Sometimes they can make you react quite wildly, and possibly rip something in return. But it’s not your fault, it’s hers.

ALL hers.

She couldn’t keep her mouth shut could she?

You could’ve gone quite well without knowing and now it’s all you can think about.

But she knew that.

Why oh why did she have to tell you she wasn’t wearing any underwear?

Why?

Now you’re head is clouded.

You could’ve been in the middle of a sentence and she said that to you and now you can’t remember WHAT the hell you were saying.

Or worse, she could’ve showed you!

Oh God, don’t let her do that!

Women, at times, wear clothes that fortunately look or feel better without underwear. VPL is the enemy of women and to avoid such a bastard on their swag, women will go without any underwear on.

Usually with dresses, skirts, etc. but also with trousers, jeans (ahhh, I do love a good camel) and tracksuit bottoms (with the loose elastic so you could slip a hand right down there and… WOOOOSAAAAH)

But she’ll wait until she is wearing something that will allow you to possibly find out whether or not she is telling the truth.

I’m telling you, if you’re a guy reading this, you know what I mean. If you’re a bi-woman you know what I’m talking about.

Fuck it, if you’ve ever looked at a woman and thought, ‘yessur I would’ then you know what I’m talking about.

So crafty a sentence, it is also a statement of intent.

Don’t think she told you that because she just felt like ‘sharing’.

*Bernie Mac voice* That’s bawlshit!

There is never a time a woman will tell you that she isn’t wearing any panties in order to make her more aerodynamic on the dancefloor.

Or she is panty-less in order to let her brand new tramp stamp tattoo heel.

That’s crap, crap and thong-less crap!

If a woman tells you she’s got nothing on underneath her outfit, you best to know you have carte blanche to find out.

  • In a restaurant.
  • In a club.
  • At home watching TV.
  • Sunday dinner with the parents.
  • Extra long queue at Tescos.
  • A changing room in Primark.
  • The movies.
  • Anywhere.

What such a sentence does is that it makes you feel like you HAVE to know whether or not it is true.

And the finding out is the next part of the fun.

You may go straight for a cheek massage to find out quick and easy, you may go a little further up to check for a thong but you like to know then and there.

A more fun way is to take it slow with it.

Let her know with your touch that you are going to find out… you’re just gonna be slow with it.

  • Start with a single hand on the small of her back.
  • Run your hands along her waist, feeling for the elastic of underwear.
  • When you feel nothing, which you hopefully should, return to the small of her back. A thong triangle usually sits there.
  • If it ISN’T then she just might have been telling the truth.
  • She might actually have no underwear on.
  • You might have to go for a cheek caress to find out.
  • Best technique is slide a hand down from her back straight down the middle and then across a cheek of your choice.
  • What your hoping to feel is nothing but smoothness all the way do to her thigh.
  • A little eye contact between you should ensue because, at this point, you both know that there is only one other way for him to find out whether or not you are telling the truth.
  • One conclusive, definite way to find out if you are walking the talk.

That hand is gonna have to wander to warmer climates.

All this should transpire in about a minute but the thoughts that that 60 seconds feeds is enough to keep you going until you are able to REALLY do something about it.

The mind fuck of it all is what makes it so sweet. Because she already knows whether or not she is lying but you don’t.

And she enjoys watching you find out.

And he enjoys trying to find out.

If you’ve proclaimed yourself panty-less, your hoping he’ll get close enough to find out anyway so it’s all moo (see: Joey from Friends)

The sweet simplicity of such a sinfully saccharine sentence is what it does to the mind.

Especially if it is dropped appropriately… or inappropriately as the case maybe.

I say inappropriately because the true freaky people out there know about the sexual pleasure that can be found in being able to tease someone in an environment where they are not able to do anything about it.

Strolling the aisles of Tescos on a Friday night, doing the weekly shop isn’t the place to whisper that you are not wearing any underwear as you bend over to pick up a bag of Basmati rice… but what you’ve done is made him watch your thighs, trying to find out if you are or not. But it may not necessarily be appropriate to be groping each other in Tescos on a Friday night with families and shit all over the place.

But she knew what she was doing when she that.

She wanted to fuck with you.

Or, and this one is a REAL mind fuck, she tells you over the phone.

AAAAAAAHHHH…

Since teleporatation hasn’t be scientifically proven to be fincially viable on the NHS, them words over the phone are just unnecessary.

A general description of something your wearing over the phone sucks because you can’t do anything to see it… unless it becomes picture, or better yet, video call time.

I mean, think about the last time you heard a woman say to you, I’m not wearing any underwear.

Women may hear that all the time. To them, they can be going raving and be ready to walk out of the house and look in the mirror and see a VPL… then just slide the panties off, step out of them and put them in the purse like it’s nothing.

To a man, that’s a sexy ass thing to be in the presence of.

It’s not that we don’t know what you look like naked, but it’s the idea that your nakedness is covered to the world, but the private part of you is just… out…

With one lift of the back of your skirt… that’s all it would take…

Wanna make a man crazy without doing much?

Tell him you’re not wearing any underwear.

In fact try it out…

Randomly…

Pick someone in your phone and just text, tweet or message them and say ‘I’m not wearing any underwear…’ and you pretty much know the response your going to get.

As I said, it is such a crafty sentence because, between women, it is said in the tone of, ‘they were bothering me so I decided not to wear any.’

So off-hand, so meh…

What men hear is, ‘so my booty is right here and my pussy lips are sliding together all exposed… all you have to do is have a look.’

It’s weird to say this but a beautiful woman somehow becomes sexier when she chooses not to wear underwear and then tells you about it like it’s the explanation to the numbers in Lost (and I STILL don’t know what they are…)

That it is a secret that only you and her share.

You could be in a house party, just chilling, drinking, music is playing, joke is flowing, it’s all good.

You get up to get a drink, bend down to ask her what she’s wants to drink, thinking ‘yeah she’s looks good tonight’ then she pulls you close and tells you her drink order. You get YOUR drink first then she walks up to you, takes your drink then says, ‘I’m not wearing any panties tonight’.

Where are your eyes?

Where did you look as she walked away?

Exactly, you watched that walk with heavy concentration like it was CCTV footage.

What can you see?

What can’t you see?

Is she really not wearing any panties?

To really kick you while your down, she sits back down and folds her leg with the dirtiest smile before taking a long sip of your drink.

That woman is inciting you to do some shit!

Such a crafty sentence. Panty-less simplicity even.

Remember when Samuel Jackson ate the boy’s burger in Pulp Fiction, looking at him like, you can’t do shit and you know it.

That’s what that move was.

You don’t realise that she had you as soon as she whispered in your ear.

It was a like a slap in the face ‘cuz now, all that is on your mind is… *with a head tilt*

Is she?

By Mr Oh

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