Sex Blog Roundup: Happy MILF's Day!

They appreciate the flowers, the cards and the chocolates, but the kids needs to be shooed away for these hot mamas to get what they most want on their special day. Now's the time to rise before the sun, to reach for that special briefcase under the bed, and to call up those swinging friends. Today, we're doing it all for Mommy.

Join Jefferson for breakfast in bed after the jump.

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Sex Blog Roundup
by Jefferson

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Bad Sex—I Want It!

"Have any Stella?"

"I can't think what you mean."

"Never mind," Troika says, taking the spoon from her and throwing it aside. "Listen, this might be your lucky night, because I quite fancy putting my pork sword into your toad in the hole."

"I beg your pardon? I am married you know."

"Don't worry about that, I'll be in and out in under ten minutes."

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Great Sex Leads to More Great Sex . . .

We thought we were monkey free one night last week and so we made plans with our "friends" from Adult Friend Finder. It turned out that we didn't have a babysitter—of course—but we decided to invite them over anyway. They are a lot of fun to hang out with, and we have some common interests, so while no clothes were shed, it was entertaining, and certainly sparked my imagination. I had done a bit more primping than usual—even though it seemed unlikely that anyone other than M would get to appreciate it, but that too inspired me. I forgot how erotic a clean-shaven pussy feels, a bit naughty still, and it certainly motivates M.

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The Black Briefcase

The children would be sound asleep behind the closed doors of their rooms.

I would be buzzing about the kitchen, chopping veggies, steaming rice, and opening the wine anxiously awaiting Levis' arrival. We were well into the first year. Those nights at my flat were so sensuous, and new. Getting to know each other all over again, exploring his fetish with me, and the rebirth of my enormous libido consumed every moment that wasn't occupied with work, and mommy duties. The days flew by rapidly with me counting down the hours till we were back in each other's company, sharing wine and dinner by candlelight. We were caught up in the romance every night.

The dead married skin was nearly 100% sloughed off.

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Do I Like Being Called "Honey?"

I just got off the phone with a guy who called me "honey." We were having that slightly awkward first chat after I responded to an ad he placed on a swinging website looking for a partner.

"You're a talker," he said, after I launched into one of my monologues about me and what I was looking for.

"You could say that," I replied, laughing.

"Is that because you're not interested in other people?" he said.

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Breakfast

Emm and I spent the weekend at daughter Eva's. So you will know, if you have been paying attention, that our sexual desires were thwarted for a couple of days. But abstinence, like virtue, brings its own reward. No sooner had we arrived safely home on Sunday afternoon, than we took a quick bath—unfortunately our bath is not big enough for two—and got down to some serious love-making.

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Simply Irresistible

I had her head pulled back and growled into her ear, "You like that don't you? You're a dirty little slut aren't you?"

TW responded by thrashing about on the bed and moaning quite loudly. Luckily, the kids are sound sleepers, especially at 4:30 in the morning. I was pounding my honey so hard, and she was thrashing about so wildly, that she almost slipped off the edge of the bed.

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Thumbnail: "Breakfast in Bed" by Russ Meyer (found @ culturecuts.net)

Previously: Sex Blog Roundup Archive

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