True Sex Stories: Blush

"I do things that would make many woman and men blush, shutter and perhaps even gasp–but does my own behavior make me blush? What would make you blush?"

Someone asked me to tell them something that would make them blush. That is easy with some people, though I don't' think it would be with him. I have been rolling the question around in my head for a few days now, and am still at bit of a loss.

I do things that would make many woman and men blush, shutter and perhaps even gasp–but does my own behavior make me blush? What would make you blush?

There are sexual acts I have not written about here, because they are a bit over the top, but are acts I know damn well many of you would like.

When I was with NYC, we spend many days, and many emails discussing sexuality and determined that nothing should really be off limits that if either one was feeling something or wanted to explore some kink we would. And through that I got my first fisting, and it was pleasurable and not shameful, perhaps I did blush when the mini bus full of tourist got a full on view of the action, but telling you about it does not make me blush.

Would it make you blush if I told you I peed all over NYC? I have been with guys who wanted me to pee on them,  but I was never really altogether comfortable with it–or perhaps, not with the act, but with the man. With NYC I felt a freedom, a release of all of me and I felt like fuck it, lets do it. It was not something deliberately planned it just happened. Both times were similar, we had been out all day on the town–flirting, touching, getting finger banged, licked, sucking cock, getting my pussy vibed, drinking and eating, feeling a true connection for the other. My pussy was in a constant state of soak, continually dripping down my thighs. On this particular late day we were full of drink, I had come a few times, I was ready to be fucked, but I had to pee like crazy and the subway vibrations on my cunt were not helping the situation. I told NYC how much I had to pee.

"I want you to pee on me."

It was simple. Off the subway we tore down the the quick block to the apartment, ripping clothing off along the way. By the time the door shut behind us, we were both damn near naked as we raced to the bathroom. NYC lay in the bathtub while I stood over him and let it all go. It was strong and powerful and probably mostly beer, but it felt so freeing and connecting at the same time.

We did not blush, we relished in it. I may blush when I hit the publish button and whoever reads this reads it. But I don't think I blush at my own sexual behavior too much.
I blush at simple things….

at my own loneliness
when a man genuinely smiles at me
sexual eye contact
when I am hit on by a woman
when I am getting complimented (not overtly sexually)
when I speak and stumble on my words, because you are there
when you tell me you love me

So, how could I make you blush?

Republished with permission from Library Vixen. Want to see your true tale of lust on Fleshbot? Contact us. Photo by John B. Root.