Monday, March 26, 2012

The Toilet Guy

I was out on the town enjoying a fun night with my girlfriends. We were at the bar ordering drinks, one Mandrian Sprite after another. The club was as busy as my vagina on any given weekend. The DJ was playing some great hits, an eclectic spin on modern day and top 80s and 90s jams. Normally I don’t need an excuse for a good ass shaking, but this disc jockey made it almost impossible to keep my buns from jiggling (in a hot way).

After a bit of dancing, I decided to get a better look at the man who had such excellent tunage selection. If this guy held the secret to get my ass shaking, I wondered if his dick was the key for my vagina. I went over to request some music, and the young guy definitely took notice of me. We flirted for a little bit and I cracked him my best cleavage smile.

At the end of the night he decided to bust a move. As the bar was clearing out, he asked me to come with him. I was immediately game for following him, or cuming…whichever game first. He took my hand and led me away. At first, I was intrigued. Where was this young hottie taking me?

Soon I noticed he was taking me to the restrooms. He can’t be serious, I thought. I’m a classy girl and I don’t mind having sex near a toilet if the dick is right. Location hardly matters to me. But I didn’t even know this guy! Bathroom sex was sacred ground. Only the guys I’m most comfortable with get to pin me against a hygiene-questionable wall and fuck me where people go to take a shit.

I’ve been around enough penises to know that when a guy takes a girl to the toilet, it’s for his own pleasure. Not mine. I’m no Good Samaritan; I’m not going to suck a stranger’s cock just to make his night. If I’m going to let a guy bang me bent over the pot, you better believe I want to get off, too. Besides, I only suck on dicks if they have a return rate later in the evening.

I let him lead me into the bathroom stall. My curiosity was intrigued. I wanted to see what this guy’s moves were. He quickly closed the bathroom stall and started making out with me. Two seconds later, he unzipped his pants and whipped his dick out.

“Suck on it?” he asked. His meat popsicle was already hard.

I laughed in his face. “Thanks for the offer. Really… I’m touched.” I usually appreciate a sexual eagerness in a man, but not when it’s completely one-sided. My pussy has needs to, ya know.

Turning to leave, the bathroom door swung open. It was one of my friends. She stared at me, and quickly looked at the wide-eyed DJ with his dick hanging out of his pants. We burst into laughter as we left, and I rehashed the story in the car.

Later, I realized that I had given him my number earlier in the eveing when I thought he might take me out on a proper date. Didn’t realize our first date would be in a toilet stall. He kept texting me that night, practically begging me to come over. If a girl won’t suck your cock when you offer it up on a silver platter, she’s not going to invite you over. Too bad, this young DJ didn’t know how to please a beaver as well as he knew his music.

- Sienna Sinclaire® - The Single Girl®: Your Naughty Lifestyle Guide

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Taking It To The Next Level...

When most people decide to become more serious and take their relationship to the next level, they usually talk about being exclusive and setting a bunch of rules for their new budding romance. (Gag me.)

My idea of taking things to the next level doesn’t exactly involve picking out china patterns. When I decide to get more serious with someone, I make him my “Number One.” In other words, his dick is getting the most action from my lady parts.
So Brian decided that he wanted to take our so-called relationship to the next level (not exactly a shocker).

Due to my line of work, I get tested monthly. I’m a disease freak, and I don’t exactly want crabs covering my beautiful pussy. In order to take things to the next step, I told Brian that he had to get tested and show me his results. It’s kind of like a foreigner trying to get citizenship in America – his dick had to get a green card in order to set up camp in my vadge. But I already know he’s not “the one” for my pussy but still want to see his results. I’m still testing out others. Hey, I’m a popular girl!

- Sienna Sinclaire® - The Single Girl®: Your Naughty Lifestyle Guide

Monday, March 12, 2012

Why NOT To Make Love Like A Porn Star

Many men want to learn how to have sex like a porn star but that only leads to disaster. They sit themselves on a comfy chair and watch some good ol’ fashioned pornography to “research” all their sex positions. I like my nudies as much as the next pussy, but let’s be real. Porn is about as realistic as Pamela Anderson’s rack. It mostly focuses on men and pleasing the unruly one-eyed snake in their britches. It rarely has little to do with a woman’s sexual satisfaction.

For example, I don’t want to be chocked with a guy’s cock and I don’t want cum sprayed in my face, eyes, or (God forbid) my hair. And don’t even think about slapping your dick against my face! I don’t let guys slap me across my face period so why do guys think it’s okay to slap a girl across the face with their cock?

Somehow through watching porn men got the message that it’s acceptable to treat women like animals. They bang us, flip us, pound us, and bounce us with no concern as to how we feel. Now don’t get me wrong, I like a mind-numbing, meaningless sex session. I don’t need to know your first and last name or where you’re from before I’ll fuck you. But when I do decide to bang you, you can bet your nutsack that I want to get off. It’s not all about you and your joystick; my vagina has needs, too.

Even though porn may be your best friend, men, don’t let it be your sex guide. I don’t want a fuckin’ circus in my bedroom. I’m not a contortionist; so don’t flip my body into positions that even Gumbi couldn’t manage. I know some pornos show women twisted in (God only knows) how many ways, but that’s for all the douches that get their jollies on a woman in pain. That isn’t real life.

I mean, what’s wrong with staying in the same position for a few minutes? I actually like enjoying my lover’s cock; I can’t do that when we’re constantly playing a game of hot potato with your balls.

I never had a guy flip me around so much until I dated this one guy. The first time we had sex, he flipped me around so many times and in so many different positions that my body was sore. My mind was spinning. And my girls were frustrated. My pussy couldn’t enjoy his dick because he was too busy getting in his aerobic workout for the day. I’m sorry but last time I checked, my vadge wasn’t your elliptical.

Our second fuck session, he started moving me all over the place again. It’s like this guy thought I was his dick, he could turn and twist me as much as he wanted. It didn’t take me long to realize this guy had been to Pornography 101. That coupled with his intense case of ADD, and his sexual expectations were as porn-tastic.

I had to slow him and his Johnny Rocket down. He was a great lover, but it took him a while to calm his amped-up dick. Eventually, I had to start taking control to prevent him from fucking me like a jackhammer. I taught him some valuable lessons while we dated. Every woman he fucks seriously owes me.

Take a lesson, men. I know you’ve all been porn-again, but don’t let the fuck sessions on the screen be your guide to sex in the sheets. Let your lady friend actually enjoy your dick. We are likely to fuck again if you just calm the hell down. Experiment with different positions, but be realistic. Remember, we’re only human. Our bodies can’t bend like we’re made of condoms. Take your time; be gentle, and leave the “professionals” to the screens.

- Sienna Sinclaire® - The Single Girl®: Your Naughty Lifestyle Guide

The Anal Lover

You should know by now that I’m not like most girls. Many times women want to feel a special connection with a guy before she’ll allow him to enter her backdoor. She wants to have dated him for a while and have all those warm fuzzy feelings before she’ll open up her keister. My vagina’s not made of stone, but I don’t need those mushy feelings. If I’m in the mood for a good butt fuck, I don’t have to know the guy for very long before I’ll bend over. Sometimes I need to give my vagina a break for the night.

My third date with Seth was pretty standard. We started off our night with dinner before heading to a popular dance club. I drained several drinks to loosen me up (not that my vadge and I really needed it). Little did I know, my ass was about to experience a whole new anal world.

When we got back to my place, we almost immediately started bumping uglies. This was our second time having sex, since I didn’t give it up so quickly on our first date (Girl Scout Badge for me!). Usually if I like someone, I like to make him wait. If I fuck you on the first date, it’s not because I care about you. It’s because I’m horny and you’ve got the penis I need. I don’t actually care if you ever call me again.

Seth started off fucking me vaginally, but it wasn’t long before his one-eyed willie was trying for another entrance. My ass is no Virgin Mary; she has already taken in her fair share of huge cocks. Seth had a big dick, but it wasn’t as wide as some I’d taken up the tailpipe. I knew my ass could handle him.

His cocked slipped perfectly in between my tight cheeks. Anal always makes me come as fast as a thirteen-year-old boy. I quickly came all over his cock, and he followed soon after. God, it was amazing.

“Perfect,” I thought. “It was such a nice night out, and this was a great ass fuck! Now I’m ready for bed.”

After we both get cleaned up, I came back to the bed. His cock rose to greet me. I couldn’t believe he was already hard again. I would expect that from someone in his twenties, but Seth is in late thirties! It was a nice change of pace. Normally my dates’ penises can’t keep up with my horny beaver.

He was hard as a rock, so I decided to reward him for his sexual stamina. I began using another hole he hadn’t yet experienced. I worked his dick in my mouth, blowing him well. I knew there was no way I’d be able to finish him off, since he just came in my ass. But before I knew it he was coming again! Normally I don’t let guys finish in my mouth. Does anyone really like the taste of cum? It isn’t exactly the whip cream on top of a meat popsicle.

Seth, however, was in a league all his own. He had the best sperm I’ve ever tasted. It was clean, clear, and clump-free. I let him fill my mouth and swallowed it with ease.

After blowing him, I passed out. Surely, he was exhausted too. I wasn’t asleep more than twenty minutes before I felt him rubbing against my body, slowly trying to wake me up. This guy was like fucking a twenty-year-old boy. He gently caressed my skin until I started to stir. He immediately noticed that I was waking up so he began rubbing my breasts, letting me know he wanted sex again.

“Holy shit,” I thought. “What the hell is this guy on? Can’t he let me just sleep until the morning?” I am, after all, awesome at morning sex. I always have extreme lady wood.

Instead, I decided I was up for another round. I mean, how many times did I have the chance to fuck three times in the span of an hour and half? This time he went straight for my ass. Apparently his dick didn’t need a map or an invitation. It felt just as amazing as the first round. I started to believe his dick was made of gold.

When we both finished, I hoped it was for good or at least till the morning. I was going to get spoiled on all these orgasms in one night. Thankfully, his dick calmed down after round three. He had to get up early for work so there was no time for morning sex. My ass was happy to see him leave; I needed to recoup before my buns met his powerful bratwurst again.

- Sienna Sinclaire® - The Single Girl®: Your Naughty Lifestyle Guide

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Mr. Personality

My vagina is like a metal detector. Instead of finding loose change, it’s constantly turning up annoying habits of all the ball-sacs trolls I date. Sometimes they’re hard to find, like the penis of my first sex partner, but most of the time my dates’ irritating habits are staring me right in the face (like the cock of every guy who begs me to blow him).

While I appreciate the effort, if a man has the personality of a brick wall… I’d rather you just shut up and nut up. Otherwise, I’ve got a dildo back home that can get the job done. Unfortunately, those with the worst qualities almost always think they’re God’s gift to vaginas.

I met this guy out at a bar one night. He seemed harmless on the outside, definitely fuckable but nothing my lady parts and I couldn’t resist. But the second I discovered my date was on a first name basis with our bartender and everyone else at the bar that immediately threw up a red flag for me. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I hate friendly people I just don’t like overly friendly ones. I could barely remember his first name and I didn’t care about learning his last name. The more he talked, however, the more I realized I needed an alcohol-IV pumping in my arm, before I could handle this guy and all his charisma.

It’s a mistake to think that charmers can easily sway my vagina and me. Sure, I may laugh at your retarded jokes. I’ll smile and nod when you pretend like you’re the greatest thing since a six-inch vibrator. That’s only because I want to fuck you. You’re not actually funny. I just want to get in your pants and introduce you to my meat cleaver. One-eyed willies have a much better shot to impress me than the giant hole in a guy’s face that he can’t ever seem to fuckin’ close.

The date proceeded to get more annoying with Mr. Personality when he started using my name in almost every sentence.

“Sienna, what do you do today?”

“How’s your drink, Sienna?”

“Don’t you love this bar, Sienna?”

Listen, I’m not about to blow you because you remembered my name. I can barely remember yours, Einstein. My hair may be blonde, but I know my own goddamn name. You’re not earning yourself any points by reminding me that you know who I am. The only time I want to hear you say my name is in the bedroom. (Cause let’s face it, you totally will.)

For some reason (I blame my vagina) because I let him take me out to West Hollywood a few days later. Every pore on this guy’s body was dripping with charm. He seriously needed to put a cork in it.

When we got to the restaurant, the hostess greeted us. My date smiled and told her the name of our reservation. By this point, I wasn’t really paying attention to their conversation. I knew I was going to have to listen to him for the rest of the night, might as well enjoy the few seconds of reprieve.

All of a sudden, I heard something that didn’t sound quite right. My date and the hostess laughed. She looked super uncomfortable. I thought maybe I had heard wrong. After all, I wasn’t really paying attention maybe I had missed something. Good lord, I hope I missed something. Surely he can’t be that lame…

“What did you just say?” I asked.

“I told her my name for the reservation, but then I said how funny would that be if I said we were here for a spa appointment?” he said, cackling like he had just come up with the best joke ever.

What the fuck? I thought. Here I thought I had missed something, but I hadn’t. That was his joke and he was serious as birth control.

I flashed him by famous “are you fucking kidding me” look. I didn’t laugh or smile. I just turned the poor hostess and said, “Didn’t there use to be a nightclub next door? What happened to it?”

I changed the subject as quickly as I could, but I couldn’t avoid the damage his lame-ass personality had already caused. How embarrassing! For the rest of the night he tried to entertain me with his wise cracks, but I wasn’t amused. I wanted to skip to the part of the night that was actually pleasurable, getting fucked by his huge cock.

After that date, I only invited him over to my house to bang. Cut the small talk. I had to get him to close one hole, so he could open another.

- Sienna Sinclaire® - The Single Girl®: Your Naughty Lifestyle Guide