Terribly sorry to have left you Barreness-less (heh) for nearly a week, but at least this time you knew exactly where I've been and can therefore excuse the prolonged absence.
Yes, I have finally returned from my beloved Espana and - as I suspect you're all positively twitching from the pent up anticipation (I do relish inflicting that particular sensation) - a few details from "Shag-a-thon 2011":
Yes, I have finally returned from my beloved Espana and - as I suspect you're all positively twitching from the pent up anticipation (I do relish inflicting that particular sensation) - a few details from "Shag-a-thon 2011":
Flight to Spain: delayed for 2 hours. On the runway.
Bollocks.
Bollocks.
Luggage: Broken in transit. Dragging a three wheeled suitcase through a 5* hotel whilst trying to look alluring?
Bollocks. (and a littel bit funny)
Bollocks. (and a littel bit funny)
Aforementioned 5* Hotel: Lovely, and with an impeccable location, but most certainly not 5* or worth the ENORMOUS price tag.
Bollocks.
Bollocks.
The Spaniard: (Yes, THE Spaniard) Unspeakable cock. (And not in a good way. I literally cannot speak of it.) Suffice it to say that the King of the Harem and the star of most of my least family-friendly dreams has fallen rather dramatically from his throne, and I am still reeling from the shock of it.
The replacement Spaniard (sadly only unearthed on my last night in the city - go f*cking figure): Utterly divine. But, like, frighteningly so. Like, the kind of Spaniard that would make even the most hard hearted hedonist and lady-about-town consider handing in her riding crop and boarding the sleeper train to Monogamyville. So, naturally... I can never see him again.
Bollocks.
Bollocks.
Flight home from Madrid: Delayed for 8 excruciating hours.
BOLLOCKS.
BOLLOCKS.
Un. BELIEVABLE, people.
The long awaited (and very needed) "Shagfest 2011" was an utter and complete bust. THE Spaniard has been booted from the Kingdom (I genuinely never thought I'd see the day) and, if I'm honest, between the Great Flu of Death, my crappy birthday and the decided LACK of post -coital limp, I'm a little bit fucked off with 2011 generally.
Let me not be unclear, my many gorgeous readers (oh yea, the BONing thing did still rock, so I guess 2011 has one tick in column A) - it wasn't a completely shagless weekend.
Let's not forget whose blog you're reading.
But the visions of strippers, sex games and chocolate dipping sauces which had danced merrily in my head throughout the Month of the Phlegm - right up until I greeted the Spaniard at my hotel in a...special outfit - have been properly and irrevocably crushed.
Let's not forget whose blog you're reading.
But the visions of strippers, sex games and chocolate dipping sauces which had danced merrily in my head throughout the Month of the Phlegm - right up until I greeted the Spaniard at my hotel in a...special outfit - have been properly and irrevocably crushed.
The girls were fat, the games were fixed and the chocolate was fucking rancid, y'all.
B-O-L-L-O-C-K-S
So before I just cash it in and decide to remain indoors and alone for the whole of 2011, I beseech you (Beseech? Who says that?): cheer me up a bit, my lovelies. Regale me with stories of breathless, sweaty, up-against-a-wall, over a city front balcony, silken scarfed and leather strapped action, would you?
And if you have to - make that shit up. My trip was a fucking disaster.*
* Disclaimer: The term 'disaster' does not, of course account for the loveliness of the 'The Replacement Spaniard', who was scrumptious but who, alas, I was simply not prepared to embrace with my usual carefree fervor. Bollocks.
40 of your inappropriate thoughts.:
new here.
sorry the trip fucking sucked ass...
across the pond...i got nothin...
Bruce
bruce johnson jadip
evilbruce
stupid stuff i see and hear
Bruce’s guy book
the guy book
Dreamodel Guy
dreamodeling!
This makes me sad. So sorry for your dreams, not crushed, but thankfully the harem now has room!
Hello I am also new here.
Sorry to hear about your awful trip. However, everyone knows the best way to get over an bad man is to get on a better one. Good Luck and I do hope to hear the tale of your next adventure.
I am still jealous you were in spain at a 5 Star. Somethings are just a turn on to me. 5 Stars are one of them.
In my personal opinion, I suggest you hit up Central America for your next trip. It may not be as classy as Spain, but I have never experienced a shortage of perfect Latino men there.
~Lauren <3
http://tenneseemirepoix.blogspot.com
Bummer! (We were so looking forward to the juicy details) No giving up though! Find someone to fill his position. And then regale us with details. <3
Tessa recommends that the man wear vampire teeth and trap you in an alley behind an ancient church. Start by boning on the parsonage steps taking the Lord's name in vain. If that's too harsh, you can call the Lord "Fred!"
Oh pookie. That sucks balls. (Which is american for bollocks.)
I'm confused. Did it fall off? Shrink? Are your standards impossibly high all of a sudden? WHAT HAPPENED TO THE SPANIARD'S COCK??
Bruce - Welcome. Sorry to hear it. Do try to do better next weekend, mmm kay?
Jhon - Indeed, though I confess it has lost something of its luster, sans Spaniard. I should drink more.
Almost Normal - Welcome! And I concur, though somehow I couldn't bring myself to 'get on' Spaniard The Second. Must be some of that...enmotional crap people are always telling em about. ((shiver))
Vapid - The location was infact spot on. If you ever need a hotel recco, I will tell you the name of it and mayeb you can get a better deal than I did. Or just not book the most expensive room. That might work too.
Lauren - Good suggestion. I've not spent nearly enough time in Argentina.
Christy - I shall forge nobly on, in search of juice. ;-)
Fred - Thank Tessa for the tip (saucy mynx). But wait, was I not supposed to be shouting your name already?? Well there's a lightbulb.
Ellie Lou - It does indeed. Sadly, though...I didn't. Well, not for long. ((le sigh))
Keely - I'll explain later. With sdiagrams.
- B x
Sorry you trip to Spain sucked.
I'm glad I found your blog, you are a girl after my heart (only you can find men, I cannot)...except on NYE. I was waiting in line for the bathroom and a guy was ahead of me. He said he would let me go first. What a gentleman...then he came in after me. One thing led to another. Thank god it was a bathroom you could lock and the music was loud.
Sometime, I want to party with you ;)
Oh B :( it is in my experience that when you overly plan something and really look forward to it, it turns to be shit. I'm sorry boo. You're still fabulous and 29 so hey! Hey! That's gotta count for something.
Also? When I go to London we won't plan anything, I'll just show up at your door like a crazy. Ha!
boo! I'm so sorry your trip sucked monkey balls. maybe Spaniards have an expiration date. and he so met his.
also: flight delayed 8 hours? that's insane!
I have no sex stories for you. celibacy kick. however, my golden vibrator is proving quite fantastic!
i am sadly disappointed in the spaniard. i was looking forward to disgustingly graphic blog posts to visualize in my head.
any flight delay sucks, but two hours on the tarmac? horrifying. make a stink and see if you can get some freebies. they cancelled our flight home from new york after chrimbo hols and jetblue rewarded us with 10,000 points each - enough for a free off-peak round trip between orlando and new york. not bad.
B Darling,
It's been a while but...
It was the Nubian God
In the massage room (me bent over the table)
The the lead pipe
I'm serious! Or am I? ;)
Love,
SMH
What is the world coming to when you can't even rely on a shag-fest with a Spaniard? Does travel insurance cover lack of cock? It should!
I had tons of sex this weekend in San Francisco. Not with a Spaniard. With a Greek. Those are great too. I highly recommend. All Greek cocks I've seen have only rendered me speechless in the most wonderful ways.
Took some toys through airport security- such a breeze.
Still... after such a wonderful weekend, I find myself jealous of your replacement Spaniard. I want one of those!
Well at least the sex i had sounds better than the old Spaniard. Ended it with my current lady and am recooping before I become a complete man-whore. It ended very well actually, this one seems quite normal and nothing short of a keeper but honestly, I need to work on myself (i know sounds fruity but it's true) and I want to have as much sex as possible with as many women as possible. Just wasn't feasible while keeping her tied down.
Anyway, we ended on friendly terms with a visitation arrangement for our fur kids (2 cats she ended up giving me at random points in our relationship) and promises of friendship with "fun". Yes I could read between the lines and true to form, she couldn't hold out for too long with out the awesome mind-blowing sex we have with each other (not like I could either but I let my exes come to me as a policy). So she called, said she was horny and wanted to hang out last thursday, went sideways so we planned for friday. Dinner (her treat) and then back to my place for movies. In between, we fucked and it was amazing. I made her cum early, which was an ever so slightly disappointing as I wasn't anywhere near finished, finished (I could tell she wasn't having a 2nd orgasm) and we laid there for like an hour talking about how amazing it was. Then we sussed out exactly what 'we' were and parted ways in the morning, without breakfast even though she definitely earned it, she had to hurry to work. Her panooch was everything I remember it being. I can only hope to find more like it.
Hi, I'm new here too. I'm sorry your vacation sucked. Maybe next time if you go back you can find a new and improved Spaniard hunk.
The best men I've ever had were a Peruvian - tall, dark, and oh so hot - and an Italian - charming and far too adventurous to resist. I'd highly recommend both.
NOOOO ugh stupid spaniard runing shit for everyone. This is EXACTLY why we cant have nice things!!!
I'm not entirely sure how those two statements are related.
Good news is that you are back and you can make new friends! New sexy friends! With muscles and chest hair and large penises.
And I can continue to live vicariously through you and my trashy romance books full of men wearing leather pants for no good reason.
at least your last night wasn't a total waste :) do tell what happend to spaniard number 1 :)
You asked for a story to cheer you up. I can follow directions when I feel like it. By no means do I assume this will do the trick, but it was fun giving it a shot. Here you go (oops, it was too long, so I had to put it in two comments):
After a lazy day wandering through art galleries in the streets of Lavapies, the Barreness found herself back at La Puerta del Sol. The crescent shaped plaza is said to be the place where all the streets of Spain begin. She had thought all her Spanish fantasies of love and sex, mostly sex actually; would come to life in the heart of Madrid as well. Alas as the moon was rising only as a sliver of itself, the tiny crescent reminded her of the night that was to have come.
The Barreness thought of her tiny black dress that made her too sexy for herself, much less for the disappointing Spaniard. It was hanging there in her closet back at the room. She had cancelled plans for the night since the Spaniard had been about as five star as her hotel. The only thing five star about the place was her hot little dress hanging longingly in the room.
As she walked back to the hotel, the sliver of moon shone surprisingly bright. So much so that the Barreness had a bounce to her step as she smiled at the dark blue European sky. Fuck the Spaniard (he wishes) she thought. That little sexy black dress didn’t sit on the tarmac for two hours for nothing.
It may have been her attitude or maybe it was her sweet little swinging ass; probably it was both, but it seemed that everyone in the hotel lobby noticed her presence. The Barreness had a sneaky grin on her face as she took the elevator up to her room.
Sexy women don’t need hours to get ready. The Barreness strolled into the hotel bar and ordered a vodka martini. The little black dress clung to her body in all the right places. It wasn’t clear who was stealing glances more, the women or the men in the bar. She wanted to see that moon again. She took her drink outside to the courtyard where there was a nice view of the sky. The air was crisp and considering how little she was wearing, the Barreness could feel the chill enveloping her.
At first she didn’t notice the man sitting on the bench, also staring at the moon. But he certainly noticed her. She thought to herself, oh great, another horny Spaniard that will likely disappoint me.
The American had noticed her admiring the moon. How could he not. She had on the sexiest little black dress showing off her incredible body. The tiny straps over her shoulders were alluring while clearly no help at all in fighting off the cool air. He saw her shudder and stood up. As he neared her, he swore he saw the moon sparkle in her eyes. He pulled off his sport coat and without a word; he draped it over her shoulders.
He was impressed that she wasn’t taken aback at all – having a stranger make an intimate gesture without even a word. She smiled and said, “Salud.” Did he just hear a Brit speaking Spanish? He said, “Cheers” and she gave away an inkling of surprise to hear that he was American. Usually those Yanks stand out like sore thumbs. But all that stuck out was two words, an enchanting moon, a gentlemanly gesture, confident attitudes and an odd but perfectly acceptable spark. A spark of understanding. They were both interested and neither was trying. It just was what it was...
...
They both stared up to the moon again, soft salsa music playing in the background, cool breeze flowing through the courtyard. The Barreness swayed to the music and could feel the American standing close behind her. She wasn’t sure if she stepped back or he stepped forward, but suddenly there was no space between them. He gently put his big hands on her hips while she lightly pushed her tight ass into his body. He used his hands to guide her while she swayed, pulling her in more closely.
She was happy to feel that he was getting as aroused as she was. Her swaying became more of a sensual grinding as his cock grew and strained against her ass. She was getting wet thinking about the stranger behind her, pushing into her while his hands began to roam along the sides of her body. She closed her eyes and dropped her head back against his shoulder, feeling the last night of Spain inside and out of her body. He kissed her neck and nibbled his way up to her ear while his hands strayed to the front of her body, along her belly and up toward her breasts.
He breathed heavily into her ear as his hands cupped her breasts and lightly pinched her hard nipples through the tiny sleek dress. She grinded harder into him, feeling his cock slide up and down the middle of her ass. Her pussy was so wet, she wondered if she should have worn panties so that her dress wouldn’t get soaked. How was she to know a strange American would be groping her in the plaza courtyard under the brightness of such a sliver of a moon.
One of his hands was pinching a nipple much harder while another magically found its way up and under her short dress, along her inner thigh. She spread her legs out slightly further as his hand smoothly ran up her leg and his fingers probed for her honey. He moved to the side of her and pulled the sport coat off her right shoulder. He slid her spaghetti strap off her shoulder as well, and kissed his way over her breast, pushing her dress down as he went. His hand found her pussy hot and wet which turned him on even more.
Her dress slid below her nipple and he covered her with his mouth. His tongue danced around between hard kisses while his fingers slowly slid into her pussy. He pushed two fingers in, deeper and deeper, with his thumb massaging her throbbing clit, side to side. She gasped and grabbed his cock through his pants, in part for balance and in part to feel how badly he wanted her.
He kissed his way back up to her shoulder and over her neck, all the while his fingers stroked her pussy, in and out, back and forth, driving her mad. He had only spoken one word to her ten minutes ago. It was time for three more. He whispered, “Cum for me.” Her body trembled as he sped up the pace of his fingers inside her sweet honey. He put more pressure on her clit, in synch with every movement of her quivering body. He kissed her neck again and worked his way back to her bare breast.
Her dress was practically a black belt around her waist as the American kissed her, touched her, bit her and rubbed her in all the right places. She grabbed his arm and squeezed it tightly as her legs nearly buckled. The intensity of his fingers on her pussy put her over the edge and she came. She came hard, in quick waves.
They hadn’t noticed the couple watching from another bench at the other end of the courtyard. The show must have been good because their hands were all over each other, stroking each other through their clothes.
The Barreness winked at the couple as she slowly pulled the bottom of her dress back down and the straps back up. The American picked his sport coat up off the ground. The Barreness turned to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek as she headed back to the bar. Her martini glass was empty.
Perhaps they would continue later, perhaps not. Only the Barreness knows…
What a lot of bollocks
Oilfield: Yes it does.
Miss B; Sounds delightful. Let me know when you're next in London and we'll def party. ;-)
Annah: Yes, I have had the same experience - I just thought I deserved it NOT to suck this time. Oh well...looking forward to your crazy. ;-)
Andygirl: Ah yes, the Golden Boy. Very exciting. I'm VERY interested in that product review...!
Steph: Well, it would be slightly futile, I'm afraid. Bad weather is bad weather. Bollocks.
Sister Merry: I actually PRAY that you're serious. This is tricky for an athiest. *mwah*
Lifebeginsat30ty: Ha! I think it should as well! Let's petition! Raise hell! Start a trend!
Laurenne: V glad San Fran worked out well for you. I'll look into your Greek tip.
Ninja Mike: Sound like a possible 'grass is greener' situ. Perhaps you should keep your lawn mower in the current lease lines? Just sayin - she sounds pretty fab.
Cassera: Welcome! Peruvian...interesting. I shall do my best.
Lady B: There is always a good reason for men to wear leather pants, be it jest or rock stardom. ((visions of Jim Morrison dance through her head)) Wait. That wan't what you meant, was it? Damn.
Kostbarste: No way baby. Suffice it to say, he's out. You know...for now. ;-)
And last but hopefully not least, Anonymous: If you weren't already aware, I'M the tease in my sexual exploits, be they actual or virtual, and as such You are NOT following the rules. Now, I may forgive you (and minimise punishment) if you reveal yourself. But if I have to discover your identity myself...
Desperado: Correct, sir.
- B x
Darling B, so sorry about the Spaniard. Alas I can't even offer you a new story on my blog to distract you. Perhaps one of the earlier ones you may have missed.
I am sure that you shall recover from your disappointment and soon be undertaking auditions for the vacancy in the harem.
Hugs
Oh, B...darling, I'm so disappointed. For you. For me. For Spain.
And my weekend was filled only with kids, chores and work. I have nothing juicy to tempt you with.
I'm sorry. I feel like I've let you down.
I'll get Himself into some of his leathers this weekend just for you.
don't ever let me hear you beseech again! you strap your bollocks back on and make 2011 your bitch!
and (((hugs)))
Congrats on being a blog of note. Hope you'll come by Levonne's Pretty Pics and A Camp Host's Meanderings when you have a moment to spare!
Oh baby, I am so sorry that THE Spaniard was such an asshole that you couldn't even talk about it. What Pattypunker said!
I'm new to this but am very much enjoying reading your posts!
I'm absolutely gutted for you that your trip was bollocks and that you were ... unsucessful!
But if it's any consolation, you are not alone!
I wish you more luck in you next "venture"
LMAO...not at the situation cause that really blows and not in the good way.
Im sorry that you had so many bollocks and not enough cock in the mix. I wish I could regale you with stories of steamy, sweaty, nasty, hot, dirty, hard core sex adventures, but my lack of actual action has caused my brain to temporarily cese function. Hope your future dreams of sexcapades get fufilled.
Im a new follower, and I must say that your positively titillating!
Brandi
lol, youre make me laugh in a long time
Lori's comment cracked me up - actually, they're all pretty great. Can't believe the Spaniard's great failure. Quel disappointment. As for something spicy, check out Showtime's "Spartacus Blood & Sand." Great - and hilarious - sex scenes. At least, for someone whose husband is constantly traveling. :)
well nice man, but i have always found the best tail is in Australia.
Yes, I am new among your followers, too, and I am peeking through this kind of virtual keyhole from the continent. So forgive me my lack of wittiness and active vocabulary.
I have to second pattypunker's statement. Life is, most of the time, a gullible bitch and you need to shove, whatever one has between one's legs, it down her throat. Or if you prefer a male depiction: You need to keep your ass pressed firmly on his face.
You requested some, in the best case arousing, story or tale about a good instance of the old in and out game to cheer you up. Well, as I really sympathize with you for being not only kept waiting at the airport, but also for facing such a huge (or is it tiny?) let down on the Spaniard I did look for something worth telling in my memory. Unfortunately I also breached the 4096 character barrier, so this comes in two pieces of non equivalent size, just as imagination and reality with the Spaniard. (Yes, I accept a verbal beating for pulling your chain with that.)
As it happened some years ago it's been glorified in my memory and freed from anything non-positive, although I don't want to say that there might have ever been such a thing.
I was visiting a very good friend who unfortunately lives quite a bit away from me. She's not only good looking, damned good looking to be precise, but also absolutely sweet and adorable. At the same time, though, she's also quite intelligent and her mouth is an endless source of pleasure more for what comes out of it than for what goes in. She’d broke up with her boyfriend just some days ago and was missing him still. So I tried to cheer her up and distract her a bit from the useless thoughts about him – with mediocre success. At the evening we were brushing and feeding her horse when she got the idea to just stay the night at the hay barn instead of getting back to hers. If you never slept in a barn full of hay, fresh hay, do never sleep on the ground, this is very dangerous. The hay releases all sorts of different gases and fumes and while it is fresh and natural odour, you might in fact end with a lack of oxygen. If the hay is fresh, though, expect to be put under a certain kind of mind altering influence even if you are sleeping on top of the hay piles. The more you breathe, the higher you get. Where I know this from? Guess again later.
So after we had arranged ourselves a comfortable platform on top of the hay stack we talked and cuddled a lot as she poured out her heart to me. After a long and good conversation about love and lust in general, she told me that at this very moment, the thing she misses most would be the wonderful sex they had. Soon after that she gave me a long and passionate kiss that was telling me that she was longing for that good sex to happen. After kissing quite literally every inch of her body, starting on the sensitive spots and going to the more and most sensitive spots, she was audibly enjoying the hugging, sliding along on each other and sometimes barely feelable touch of our lips and my tongue. After a rather short time she started to come and I could feel how every single muscle of her body was tensing up as a quiet, muffled moan escaped her chest. Soon that turned into shivering and quivering accompanied by loud screams of sheer pleasure. This was the first movement of the symphony awaiting me that night. In her description I forgot to mention that she also is kinky. And as it got improvingly difficult to play the more quiet notes due to her rising impatience, I decided to take it as a sign of fate that she had taken bandages to the barn for no apparent reason and that the hay bails were secured and held by string. It did not take long and she was barely able to move the tiniest bit, but seemingly not just enjoying that but also even more aroused than before. The performance went on and the arc of breath-taking suspense was traced further and further after each time it fired.
Suddenly though all the tightness of her body that was revolting against her fetters just some seconds ago fainted. When I raised my head I could only hear her breath heavily, but she didn’t respond when I asked her if she was ok. Of course I was worried and when I searched for the flashlight, it must have been closer to morning than to evening already, i realized that my head was feeling a bit dull and my sense of balance was severely affected by whatever has gotten into my head. I heard a very silent mixture of moaning and sighing, which was quite a relief, just before finding the flashlight. The moment I lit it up I saw a beautiful face happily smiling and she asked me why I stopped. After telling her she grinned, threaded one hand out of her restraints and pulled me to her just to give me a kiss that is etched into my memory until this very day. This of course ended what, looking back, was only a rest before the second half of the symphony. The cast was altered and the lip duet was now playing on the top, following the directions of the principal down below.
I have no idea how long we played that track, but after countless orgasms throughout the orchestra we either passed out both or fell asleep. None of us had any memory how or why it ended the next morning.
I hope this has raised your hopes for the year to contain maybe more than just misequipped Spaniards or just fought boredom for a little while, although you might prefer such tales from the perspective of a woman or with a tied down man.
Oh, B. What an ass. Fuck him. NO, send him the worst punishment: don't fuck him.
He told me that maybe we shouldn't hook up. Obviously, I freaked. We had just talked about hooking up and he totally 360ed on me. I was throwing a little bitch tantrum when he came up behind me and kissed me. And oh I melted. You see, I am rather fond of kissing. An hour and forty minutes of Requiem for a Dream later and we were at it. He kissed me so intensely I could hardly breathe. No one had ever kissed me with such power. And oh did he know what he was doing too. My body was weak, perhaps with hunger, but let's give him the benefit of the doubt and say it was because of him. Regardless, while all this enjoyment was happening, my mind would wander to my recent ex boyfriend. I fell asleep and woke up thinking of my ex. So, in concurrence with you, FUCK EMOTIONS! Empty sex, empty cuddling. They exist. And they're so much easier to handle than the bloody fucking emotions that take over, that consume you, that leave you thinking of someone else when you're being ravished by a perfectly cute and experienced dude.
Post a Comment