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Three times, I'm No Lady

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fjfq0Fr85Yg

He wanted it all the time
All the time
But I didn't

He talked about it
All the time
But I didm't

He took photos
In all positions
But I didn't

He kissed me
All over
But I didn't

He exploded
In a minute
But I didn't

He wanted more
But he couldn't
But I could
I said again
But he didn't

Mirror, mirror on the wall.....

'Mirror, mirror on the wall
Who was the very best fuck of all?'
'It's difficult to tell as you seemed to enjoy
Most of them
Or you made the right noises!'

'Mirror, mirror on the wall
Who gave me the best orgasm of all'?
'It's difficult to tells as you were often loud
Does loud mean good?
Or were you just making the right noises?'

Mirror, mirror on the wall
Who had the very best cock of all?'
It is difficult to tell as you hid
Most of them inside you
And all of them made the right noises!'

'Mirror mirror on the wall
It was you who fucked me best of all
You gave me the best orgasm
And you had the best cock
I know because I loved watching you.'

Men with moustaches

When I look at a man
I always see a moustache
A black moustache
A black, curly moustache

Men like wearing my moustache
They look at me with greedy eyes
Wearing my moustache
Eating my moustache

I see tongues vanishing
Into my moustache
I see a tongue darting
In an out of my moustache

Men wear my moustache
Until they dress and then return it
For someone else to wear
And they do!

We all look ridiculous with our pants around our ankles!

I've had moments with managers
I've had polite politicians
I've had desirable doctors
And caring chefs

I've had busy times with businessmen
I've had tender teachers
I've had sexy solicitors
And active accountants

I've had jealous journalists
I've had a good fucking from footballers
I've had attentive actors
And protesting policemen

But when their pants are around their ankles
I have to laugh
They are the same
And all as ridiculous as each other

And that is often what sex is
X
So just enjoy
Don't give sermons

I still have my knickers!

They are a little worn

But not torn

Colour still vivid

Not faded

They fit well

But you can tell

I'm inside them

But also outside

They used to slip

On and Off

Like a smoker's cough

Off more than on

They were pulled off

Slipped off

Yanked off

Eased off

They were left on the floor

By the door

Around my ankles

Below my bum

They were never mine

I just wore them

Men explored them

Men adored them

I still have my panties

My adventures unspoken

But in the elastic and material

Lies my story

The umbrella would not open

It was a grey day
An English grey
Smudged and smeared
Blacks and whites
Scythed the skies
And mottled shades of
Dark and light
Sank into the horizon
And lay in wait
For the morrow

The night ejected the grey
Like a smoker's breakfast smoke
And street lights haze
Made angels appear
And the floating whites
Of car headlights oft dazzled
And splattered the pavement
Spotlighting dog shit drying
As moonlight spat

And the spits became splodges
And hair dampened
Dripping over my face
Smudging mascara
And revealing a nocturnal warrior
Intent on being dry
But revelling in the damp
The umbrella snapped into action
But would not open

A broken umbrella
Like an unfulfilled life
Hanging around in useless anticipation
For something, but inert
And the rain only deepens
The frustration
Of getting wetter
But carrying a weapon
Of the past

It groans like an old Ford

There's a shadow that hovers across my breasts
It is sometimes a hand shape or sometimes a tongue
Often a cock

At these times I listen to the sounds of my vagina
It groans and moans like a retired soldier
Eager but reluctant to go into battle again

My cunt seems keen to face the bayonets
The muscular swords
The long spears of joy

Sometimes my lips purse with
Welcoming thoughts
Of a battlefield of lust

A battlefield of sweat and passion
The smell of sex on white sheets
And the dotted stains of cum shots

My ears are pricked
By the sound of my sobs and sighs
Floating out into the night sky

My legs open to embrace
And to inflate
And to menace my memories

Little House On The Prairie

There was a little house
On the Prairie
Well, not really prairie and not little
Somewhere between Ostia Antica
And Casal Palocco

It was cowboy country
A mish mash of good
And the bad
And sometimes the ugly
But definitely cowboy

Men played shotgun
With me on a regular basis
Some shot pistols, others rifles
But they liked to shoot
And you could find their bullets everwhere

I'm not sure if I was a cowgirl
Sometimes cowgirl positions
But often not
Men often imagine unorthodox things
Which are not always easy to do

Men rode into town on their stallion
Sometimes brown or black but often white
Colour never changed the gallop
Or the things that took place
There is no prejudice in a whores bed

But after the ride we sat by the campfire
And talked, and more
Often the talk was of loved ones
Of which I was not one
But they loved my cunt

They loved my cunt and ass because
They were always available
At a price
And men like that
They are not patient

I don't live on the little prairie
Any longer
My cowboy days are over
Yet I still get ridden
At my 'bidden'

But the wild and wonderful west
Is now just a memory
The dust lays fast
And I have cobwebs
Around my cunt

The road with no crossroads

On the left is a large, rectangular field
Yellowing under the hot,midday sun
No shade, just torrid, blazing heat
The only life, is insect life
And it seems, for many of these,
It is too hot

 It is far too hot, hot on your feet hot
Flies rush to your lips and eyes
To capture saliva and moisture
And anything the body lets out
They are crazy with heat
And ignore the swipes of a sweaty hand

The flies, like me, are on a mission
They like me are maddened and frustrated
My salty, eyes cast mistily
To the right and scans another field
It is a multitude of browns and conveys barren
Even the weeds have withered

The brown field appears bereft of life
Without redemption
It awaits the rain, like we all do
To cool and wash away the
results of the heat
But everything seems dead

The rain, it is hoped, will nourish the soil
But what is there to be nourished?
Is it possible that life can survive this?
Can life emerge from the dust?
Can the land become green and lush?
And productive?

And in front, behind a windscreen of dead flies and gnats
A long, long road
Not winding at all
Straight but with gradients
Ups and downs
But the overall image is down

Down to the horizon
Where there isn't much
To talk about
Other than down
Other than road
That is long and straight

The road is without crossroads
Without intersections
Without junctions
There is no official way off this road
But many have tried
Tyre marks edge the side of the tarmac


The tarmac is sticky
Black puddles, inky splodges
Mingled with dust
Tracks appear to go nowhere
And maybe I like nowhere
Maybe it is a better place to go

Fucked but no bread!

There I am shopping
Ham in hand
Walking towards the bread counter
Thinking what else I need
And the phone rings

Am I available now
And I rush home
And suddenly I am in bed
Cock in hand, and naked
A hand manoevring towards my cunt

My bedmate looks thrilled, excitied
His eyes lusting for more
And he comes, a lot
And then dresses and rushes home
And I lay there fucked but no bread

dariax@hotmail.co.uk

0039 3281769818

Orgasms- How do you tell if they are real?

One of the great things about being a woman are orgasms. In my experience when we do have them they are worth waiting for and are incredible. They don't happen all the time and we are not always sure when, where or what will ignite them but they are great! And men never know for sure whether they are real or not, and this often bothers men.

Women however have a much easier time knowing they are exciting a man and when he has an orgasm. The cock grows and when really excited grows more. And when he orgams it goes everywhere. Men certainly want to tell the world they have had an orgasm. You often have to clean it up. Which is something you never do with a woman, unless she is a gusher and there aren't many of them.

So I have decided to give men a few hints as to when they have really hit the orgasm button. And it is not always easy. But if you are attentive you will know.

1. Breathing changes
2.Body temperature rises and heart pounds away
3.Muscle tension
4. Stomach muscles tense
5. Movement in pelvic area
6.Vagina and uterus will contract
7.Anus will contract too. So have a finger inside to test!!!!

It is nothing to do with the noise a woman makes. It is easy to make noises!!!

But what you should also realise, even if a woman is faking an orgasm she is usually doing it to please you. Sometimes it is impossible to have an orgasm even when having the greatest fuck. It just doesn't happen. So don't stress about it and when it does naturally occur enjoy it as the woman will be really enjoying it.

dariax@hotmail.co.uk

0039 3281769818

Taking Control!!!!

On Saturday night I visited a youngish man in his home. He was courteous and kind. He offered me a drink and we chatted. It was all very pleasant. So pleasant that I started to wonder when the action would start. He was not showing any great inclination to get between my legs and I was getting quite randy.

He then asked whether I wanted a look around his place. We did the kitchen and the living room, even popped into the bathroom. And then we reached his bedroom. And here he suddenly put his arm around my waist. He was at the back of me and his hands manoevred towards my panties. I was wearing a short dress and it was very easy to find my cunt. And he found it very quickly!

It was then all action. He suddenly became very athletic and with clear intentions. Clothes were flying every where and I was able to view a very nice cock. Very nice indeed!!! It was bulging and seemed impatient to slide into a warm, wet nest. So I covered him and slipped him inside my very welcoming hole.

I do like the missionary position and he fucked me well. He was rough, but pleasant rough. But after riding me for a while although his cock was happy he was finding the physical exercise demanding. I on the other hand was just about getting going and I wanted his cock very badly. Consequently I flipped him over and then went astride his manhood like an expert jockey. He was surprised but very happy.

On top of him I made sure that I had all his cock inside me. It felt wonderful. I rode him allowing his cock to slide in and out of me. Pushing my pelvis at the last moment to take it deeper and further. The sensation was electric and I had a most wonderful sensation. My orgasm was loud and long and he saeemed very proud of himself.

I then took him out and released his cock from its protective coating and excited him to send his seed all over my body. He let out an amazing amount of sperm and it felt good. And I felt very good!!!

dariax@hotmail.co.uk

0039 3281769818

He was my seat, my throne! Prose for Pros 43

He was my seat.

He wanted it
Badly
Dreamt about it
Thought about it
Constantly

He was nervous
Very
He wished it to be
Relished the real
Passionately

He lay still
Motionless
Welcoming the moment
Greeting the fantasy
Quietly

And I lowered myself
Slowly
Covering his face
With my sex
Suffocatingly

He groaned loudly
Appreciating
My wetness
My Cunt
Lovingly

He licked me
Hungrily
Tasting all of me
Pushing himself
Inwardly

And then he sobbed
Deeply
As my bladder emptied
And he drank
Wildly

He lay wet faced
Contented
Sperm splattered his stomach
And pubic hairs
He was blissful and grateful

dariax@hotmail.co.uk

0039 3281769818

Beautiful Photography

Have been looking at Robert Mapplethorpe's work. It is both beautiful and often shocking which I suppose is what art should be.

Here are some of the photographs I loved.

If anyone enjoys taking black and white photos get in touch I would love to be the model.

dariax@hotmail.co.uk

0039 3281769818