Sabrina in Stockings smartass switch sex worker

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Sugasm #23  1 Comment

Posted by Sabrina Morgan on February 26th, 2006. About Sugasm.

My Sugasm submission from last week, Smells Like Vanilla, was linked from Fleshbot earlier this week. Thanks Viviane! You’re a sweetheart.

Welcome to all you new visitors. Make your kinky selves at home - more smutty goodness is headed your way, and soon.

The best of the blogs by the bloggers who blog them, this week starting with the Sexiest, most Sensual and Sinful “S.” If you haven’t checked out the new FAQ, give it a look - it takes effect next week.

More Sugasm…
Join the Sugasm

(Sugasm participants should re-post all the links above. The following links may be excluded as long as you include all the above links.)

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Hotel Sex  31 Comments

Posted by Sabrina Morgan on February 20th, 2006. About Cheesecake, Tease and Denial.
stocking cheesecake pic in black and white

The knock on the door froze me. I stopped unbuckling my heels.

“Room service.”

Not likely. I hadn’t ordered any. Your voice caught my attention - it was familiar in an impossible way. You couldn’t be here. Not now.

I knew better, and I answered the door anyway, with my shirt half unbuttoned and my pale pink bra strap peeking out. You had the fucking nerve to be on the other side of it, without warning me, without any…

“Hi. Sabrina.”

…any precursor other than the emails, the voicemails, and then nothing for a month.

“…Hi. What are you doing here?” You looked good. I didn’t tell you where I was staying. But you looked so, so good.

“I came to see you. Surprise.”

You came in - I don’t remember if I invited you in, or if I just stepped backwards and you followed me into the room. I looked at my feet, at your feet, at the cheap teal hotel carpet; never at your eyes. You were smiling, I was smiling, but I wasn’t sure why. I think I said something about being glad to see you. Funny thing to say, but I was too confused to be mad. Yet.

I just wanted revenge.

I could feel your eyes on me and I knew just how to start. One hand, along the unbuttoned collar of my blouse, like so. Tugging it open. I’d stopped unbuttoning it just under my breasts - you were getting a narrow eyeful of cleavage edged in a crisp white cotton blouse. The deep V gave my hand enough room to caress the swell of my breasts and almost, but not quite, cut off your view.

“So you came to see me… Do you like what you see?”

My left hand slid up, stroked the back of my neck. My right was toying with the bottom two buttons of my blouse. Pop. It’s a trick I learned from a stripper. Pop. Start at the bottom and work your way up… builds anticipation. He sees bare belly before he sees breasts.

I only looked down once, the second to last button; I looked down, and smiled coyly, and played innocent. I liked keeping my eyes on you, watching you smile, and shift, and run your eyes over my tits like you were using them as stand-ins for your hands. I liked watching your pants tent up when I let the shirt slide off my arms and crumple by my feet. I stepped on it, kicked it aside; you’re next.

Cherry red lips shifted into a grin. My tongue flicked out, danced over my lower lip for a second too long. Yours followed. Mirror mirror. I stepped into your space. My hips were shifting in some slow unconscious dance. I rested my high-heeled foot on the arm of the chair you were pinned to; my fingers circled my ankle, slid up, broke apart. The faint hiss of my palms sliding up my calves over the sheer black nylon of my stockings… I closed my eyes, and when they flickered open your mouth was parted. Hungry and wanting.

My skirt slid up just enough to expose the lace band at the top of my stocking. I wiggled my stockinged foot inside my shoe and kicked it off, flexed my now almost bare foot for you. You knew what was coming. You leaned back and thrust your hips forward. Your breath stuttered.

Your cock stretched out your pants obscenely - I could see where your shaft ended and your cockhead began, and I followed that sweet hard line with my nyloned toes. The ball of my foot pressed your shaft up against your stomach and when I released you from that firmness the arch of my foot just barely rubbed right above your balls.

I made you unzip, watched you pull your cock out. Were you hoping I’d touch it?

I raised my leg and rested my foot on your shoulder and I know you could see my panties underneath my skirt. You could see how the pale pink satin clung to my mound and the wet spot, that giveaway trace of juices right along my slit… It made your cock jump. Oh, and when I ran my hand up my inner thigh, tracing the garter strap and then the edging of my panties…

My fingers slid to the side. Just enough. I ran two fingers over my panty-clad lips.

My breath caught. I leaned forward until my satin-and-lace bra was pushing my breasts right into your face. One pink nipple popped out and your greedy lips rubbed it raw.

I straddled your thighs and grazed your pulsing cock with my silky panties. I know you could feel the warmth and wetness of my pussy right through them. Your shaft pressed the crotch of my panties between my pussy lips so that the length of your cock was wedged between them. I could feel the head of your cock twitching against my throbbing clit.

You groaned. I slid - up and down along your shaft, teasing you with the wettest part of my pussy, right where you could feel me indent and imagine pushing up - I think you did push up, but so did I - and feeling my slick walls tighten, then expand around you. I’d hover right above the aching tip of your cock and laugh as you bucked your hips into the air. I held your arms down. You were pinned to the chair. You were hoarse, begging - it just made me wetter, and you could feel it, and it drove you crazy.

“I need to come, babe… Let me slide down just like this, feel you parting my lips, pressing up against them…” Right in your ear, whispering. Voice husky and almost moaning and I could feel the weight and thickness of your swollen cock pressed up against my slit, against my belly as I slid down, then back up.

I pressed forward, riding your cock with my clit, sliding every inch against my silk-covered pussy lips. Faster - the friction had to hurt, had to burn a little, but you let out a low moan and worked your cock pressed against my pink panties, worked every bump and curve against my throbbing pussy.

You weren’t getting enough - I made sure of that. Your legs shook as you got close and I’d raise my ass, denying you enough touch to get off. Your face was flushed and your whole body was trembling. Mine was too. I was so, so close just seeing how much you ached. The quivering was a low rumble coming from somewhere deep and my cunt clenched around nothing as I rocked back and forth against your body, my hair in your face…

11:10 PM. I slid down your cock and left a streak of sweet girl-juice. My smile wasn’t a smile. It was the biggest shit-eating grin you’d ever seen on a face this flushed. I dismounted and left you, sweaty palms, soaking wet dick, and blue balls, in my hotel room.I took your key, your coffee, my purse, and your wallet and walked out.

The door locked behind me. I didn’t need to look back to know you were nearly crying.

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Sugasm #22  1 Comment

Posted by Sabrina Morgan on February 19th, 2006. About Sugasm.

The best of the blogs by the bloggers who blog them, this week starting with Q for queening.

More Sugasm #22…

Want these great sex blogs to link you? Join the Sugasm

(Sugasm participants should re-post all the links above. The following links may be excluded as long as you include all the above links)

I think this edition is the hugest it’s ever been. We have a lot of great new contributors and lots of variety - get click happy, people. We’re giving away the good stuff.

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HNT - gone!  8 Comments

Posted by Sabrina Morgan on February 16th, 2006. About Cheesecake, HNT.

This is just a quickie tease post. I’ll be gone til late Friday. Sorry about the late video - I didn’t forget you.

From the set my first HNT was from:

lounging in a slip

My feet aren’t actually bigger than my head. I learned a very valuable lesson about camera angles that day…

Okay, I have to pack two hours ago. XO, more later.

Congrats Sam.

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Smells Like Vanilla  31 Comments

Posted by Sabrina Morgan on February 13th, 2006. About Jilling, Personal.

I want.

I’m pressing down against my office chair right now and bouncing up and down a little, just rocking back on my hips and thighs. It feels like all I am is warm, wet, and hungry and all of that is just melting out of my body through my throbbing pink cunt. Another hour like this and I’ll be in that state where I’m ready to bend over my desk, spread my legs apart, thrust my ass out like a bitch in heat and grind my aching clit against the edge of the desktop. I’ll growl, I’ll whimper, I’ll beg to get fucked.

I have class in two hours. I have to go sit in a room filled with people, potential warm slippery bodies against mine, all night long. The work is boring and repetitive - exactly the kind of stuff that makes my mind wander to more interesting topics, like which of the objects in the room would be best to impale that pretty little blonde with…

I can’t think when I’m like this.

I wonder if any of them read this. I wonder if the guys and girls behind me will be able to smell how wet my panties are.

They probably will.

The thought humiliates me and makes me wetter at the same time.

I’m tugging the crotch of my satin thong up between the lips of my pussy. It slides easily and I just know the slippery evidence will be visible on the black satin hours later.

I have an old pair of pantyhose. Black. Matte, sheer-to-waist and ripe for ripping. I can’t decide if I want to put them on, feel how smooth the nylon is against my legs, run my short nails over the seam (pressing it right against my clit) and then rip out the crotch and fingerfuck myself through the hole, or if I want to wad up one of the legs and force it inch by inch balled up into my pussy. It would be lumpy, unless I twisted it just right. It would push out my walls at angles I couldn’t predict until the nylon was there, compressing just enough not to hurt me but rough-edged enough to feel very interesting indeed.

Right now I’m not just wet but slick. The nylon wouldn’t absorb so much as get coated in my juices. Gods, I want to come. I’m riding the edge of my panties that got pushed up against the inner lips of my pussy, just enough to tease me but not give me enough of what I need to send me over. I lean back… the silky smooth satin shifts back and forth across my ass, right there, and it’s driving me crazy. I need more… Two fingers go to my lips, then three, and it’s your cock muffling my moans, my lips wrapped tight around my knuckles… tight around the base of your cock. My tongue flicks out to tease the head of your cock, running around the ridge, teasing that sensitive spot right and the underside, and I suck right there. My panties are starting to leak. I’m shaking, but not enough… not yet.

My cunt actually hurts, I need to come so badly. I need to make this hard and fast. Hands off the keyboard now - I need something more inside me than just the edge of my panties. Two fingers go to my lips, circling, before pushing in and kicking back and forth, teasing right at the back… harder, then nothing, then more, more, more.

I don’t think I screamed but I damn well made noise.

It’s a blur, my panties are askew, my hair is mussed and I’m realizing I actually do need a job where it’s okay to go lie down for a minute and have five mini-orgasms one after the other until I can stop feeling like a hole that needs to be fucked and start feeling like a person again. I’m wondering if there’s someone out there this is enough for, instead of too much. I’m wondering why the hell my fingers always smell and taste like vanilla musk, afterward. I mean really… vanilla?

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Niche Marketing and Phone Sex  6 Comments

Posted by Sabrina Morgan on February 13th, 2006. About Sex Work.

If you’ve been paying any attention to adult webmaster forums over the past few years, you know it: It’s all about the niche. Lately even mainstream marketers are starting to repeat the mantra. Marketing to everyone just doesn’t work very well anymore: you can’t be exactly what someone’s looking for if you’re everything to everybody. That appeals to a lot of people but not with any real connection instead of a chosen few, intensely.

Considering that I’ve known this for a while now I don’t know what possessed me to believe that I could start up a couple of fetish-oriented Niteflirt listings, not promote them outside of the site, and see much in the way of results.

I wasn’t expecting to receive none at all. Sure, it’s been slow. But there is no such thing as that fucking slow.

Lesson one: It’s one thing to do fetish. It’s one thing to do several fetishes. Just because you’re into them all doesn’t mean they make any kind of sense together. For example: Stockings/nylon, tease and denial, and spankings (receiving. Yep - told you I’m a switch).

I could’ve gone for two out of three and been fine. What the hell?

Lesson two: Nobody takes a generalist seriously anymore, not even in phone sex. If they can’t remember what you “do” they won’t remember you, end of story. I haven’t been the only one who’s launched this month with a slightly generalist approach and fallen flat. I didn’t advertise as anything goes from “suck and fuck” to GFE to hardcore domme, no, but clearly I wasn’t clear enough about who I am and what my style is.

Part of the problem with that is that my sexual interests are all over the map, and some of the things that I do are seen as contradictory. That doesn’t matter. I have to not only condense my sexual personality to a two paragraph ad, I have to clarify it. A list of keywords isn’t going to do it obviously and neither will trying to draw four completely different types of stocking callers, plus lingerie guys, with the same ad. Wearers, stocking sex lovers, dominant guys who like nylon wearing victims and submissives who are into teasing, footjobs, or sniffing stockinged feet are not looking for the same sexual attitude, just the same material. Somebody looking to be driven mad by upskirt views, flashed stocking tops, and footjobs left unfinished might be completely turned off by that tease getting bent over and paddled hard.

Lesson three: Know who you are (simply, and make it clear) before you try to communicate it to anyone else.

Thankfully that was a beta launch - I was quiet and obscure about it for a reason, obviously. I have a fear of fucking up in public. Of course now that I’ve done it you all get to learn from it. A win all around?

The Niteflirt site is extremely saturated, as is the phone sex market in general. That said there is always room for a new idea. Maybe it’s different for girls who rely on broad-based advertising, but for a small-time gal like me I need a way to stand out. Other than my sheer obnoxiousness, that is. Maybe the anything goes apprach still works for a lot of sex workers but I’m going to have to find a better way to communicate what I’m into in a way that will inspire like-minded perverts to shell out $1.99 a minute to keep my pasty ass in silky red panties.

Both ass and panties will be making their regularly scheduled appearance in tomorrow’s video.

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Sugasm #21  1 Comment

Posted by Sabrina Morgan on February 11th, 2006. About Sugasm.

The best of the blogs by the bloggers who blog them. This week starting with the letter ‘I’.

Join the Sugasm

(Sugasm participants should re-post all the links above. The following links may be excluded as long as you include all the above links)

Sugasm is lovingly policed by Sabrina Morgan

…self-love, in this case. Hmm. And you’re watching. Kinky.

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The Joy of Lingerie  1 Comment

Posted by Sabrina Morgan on February 11th, 2006. About Fetish, Site Updates.

It’s ridiculous how aroused happy shopping for lingerie makes me. Wearing it is even better… especially trying it on for the first time and seeing how it fits, how it feels, where it’s tight, where it smooths just right.

I picked up the sluttiest, gothiest, most over-the-top Valentine’s day bra and thong panties last week. They look like they were designed by a top interior decorator. Of bordellos. They’re awesome. Deep red satin, a black satin bow, black mesh accents, black lace trim and serious cleavage. I just know my breasts will almost spill over the tops of the cups, and that little satiny, lacy thong will feel so nice if I shave my pussy right before I put it on…

I’ve been holding off on trying them on because I want to do a V-Day special for you guys. A video. Those panties are so over-the-top and dramatic I want the video to be equally tongue in cheek. I’ll be recording it over the weekend… I still have to find the perfect background music. This is going to be so much fun. More later.

I’m not going to keep you waiting for your lingerie fix. Lately I’ve been reading Melinda’s escorting blog. She’s a hilarious storyteller and her latest post is all about lingerie and wearing it just because:

“I will wear it with (not for) clients I really enjoy, with boy and girlfriends, and while hanging around the house by myself. It’s nice to watch re-runs of Law and Order in a babydoll and silk thong, munching on a bowl of popcorn. It’s hot to fold laundry and wash dishes in a corset and stiletto heels.”

(”Y Lingerie,” A Feenix Call Girl)

…

Yes. Yes, it is.

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Happy Nekkid Feet  16 Comments

Posted by Sabrina Morgan on February 9th, 2006. About Fetish, HNT.

Behold, a dramatically lit foot!

half-nekkid foot

I think girls have just the sexiest, softest feet. And there are so many things you can do with female feet: buff them, knead the arches, rub lotion into the soles, paint the toenails pretty colors and then pop each toe into your mouth for a sweetly ticklish kiss…

I love rubbing a girl’s feet, watching the soles wrinkle when she wiggles her toes, seeing her ankles flex. I love women’s ankles. They look so strong, but they’re not knobby like a man’s ankles are. Ever sniff a girl’s feet? Not really sweaty feet, but not still wet from the shower, either. Just regular walked-on feet. They smell like skin and salt and sweat - kind of like the beach - and like her, but not in a soft way like her neck or collarbone would. It’s a little sharper, a little more raw.

My toes are really flexible and I can do all kinds of cool things with them. All kinds. Picking up pens, typing coherently, pressing something rigid and pulsing between the arches and lightly working the balls with my toes…

Happy Half-Nekkid Thursday!

Sugasm #21 submissions close at midnight PST this Friday. I’d love to see a ton of new additions this week; get your posts in now.

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I’m a Biter  7 Comments

Posted by Sabrina Morgan on February 8th, 2006. About BDSM, Personal.

I’ve been awake for so long that I feel mentally alert, but not coherent enough to write a decent post (which is too bad- I have two planned out for FFP this week). I’m not tired enough to sleep but I have class in a few hours. It’s a night class - just about all night - so staying up the whole time isn’t an option either.

Too bad, because I have work to do for, um, work. I have listings to make, banners to swap and emails to send and somehow I don’t think my professor would be too happy for me to skip marketing class to… do my marketing.

The thing I really hate about sleep deprivation is that I always get climb-the-walls horny and really, really hungry. My oral fixation acts up and I start looking for things to pop into my mouth, run my tongue over, taste using just my lips… but I want to bite, too. Not just nibbling. Gnawing, real biting.

I’ve been known to grab lovers and just start playfully chewing on them.

…Yeah, there too.

That’s where it gets interesting. Men go out of their way to emphasize that a good blowjob is toothless or nearly so, right? So why is it that my victims have all mentioned that a little teeth here and there really add to things?

(The exact phrase they used was “kept me from passing out - what were you doing?” but that sounds too much like bragging.)

They haven’t all been masochists either. That’s the really weird part. I try to avoid letting my victims feel teeth but if I slip up I now know they probably don’t mind. I might even try grazing the crown of their cockhead with my upper canines, slowly, deliberately. Even the vanilla-with-a-twist sensualists seem to like that.

The masochists just go crazy for it. I had a pet that went from liking the occasional canine graze to developing a nibble addiction to letting me seriously bite all over his shaft. And leave marks. Granted, the Thomas Harris bookshelf should’ve tipped me off…

Do most guys like a little teeth here and there, used gently just to tease, or is it an absolute no for most of you? It’s entirely possible that my blowjob “victims” have all been complete freaks. Or maybe nobody’s going to be that picky if a live, willing person’s lips and tongue are all over their cock and the giver’s doing a halfway decent job.

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