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Grey Ghost
Posted:May 28, 2018 1:25 am
Last Updated:Aug 9, 2018 3:34 pm

Who knew that a four year old could convince four adults that ghosts do, in fact, exist?

This is a true story that took place on Memorial Day, May 31, 2004.


It was the perfect evening to enjoy some barbecue, brews, and a good conversation as we sat around the round patio table on my Aunt Julie and Uncle Jeff's deck. They had finally finished fixing up the five acre plantation style home they had purchased so many months ago. The deck overlooked their large, perfectly manicured yard that ended at the treeline that marked the border of the Spotsylvania Battle Field located just outside of Fredericksburg, Virginia.

They had a gorgeous home and I was thrilled that I finally got to see it. At the time, I was close with Julie and Jeff and they thought it would be nice for my (now ex) husband and I to bring our two girls up to visit for the long holiday weekend. It was peaceful  out there in the middle of the woods and they were far enough away from town that we could enjoy the gorgeous blanket of stars at night. Our weekend had been an incredibly pleasant escape from everyday life .

Not to mention, my ex and I had our first date night in months that weekend. Julie and Jeff absolutely adored our girls and they spoiled them rotten, even though my oldest was four and my second was only six months old. My ex and I took advantage of their offer to babysit, although we did come home to a four year old on a sugar buzz. We also ended up bringing a trunk full of clothes, toys, and goodies home with us. Like I said, my aunt and uncle doted upon them.

One of the items we brought home with us a metal detector that my Uncle Jeff had purchased for my oldest to explore around the yard with. He was hoping that she would find some interesting little treasures near the battlefield treeline and she did. Her assortment of treasures included a few small scraps of rusty metal, a handful of some older coins coated in dirt, an old matchbox car, and a single old bullet. She absolutely loved exploring around with her metal detector in one hand and her collection bucket in the other.

In fact, we were all getting a kick out of watching her run, dig, and check all around that treeline throughout the afternoon and well into the evening. We enjoyed a nice sunset and continued our conversations while enjoying the cool night air. My oldest was still running around, so we turned on the flood lights for her to see us on the deck.

I was keeping a closer eye on her since it was pretty dark out and I honestly didn't know what kinds of nocturnal critters would be out wandering in the moonlight. I watched my little girl stop dead in her tracks to peer curiously into the woods. She stood, frozen in that spot for about a minute before she yelped and high tailed it out of there, leaving her metal detector and treasures behind in her dust. 

That girl was moving! I could tell that was scared and crying. Naturally, I was thinking that she caught a glimpse of an animal or two. Or maybe the trees were casting some spooky shadows in the moonlight.

I walked out into the yard to pick up my baby girl and comfort her and it didn't take long to settle her down. We joined the rest of the family on the deck and she sat on my lap.

"Mommy," She began, "Those men in grey coats scared me!"

We all went on alert! Men?! What men?? We all stared out into those woods and saw nothing but darkness.

"Where were those men standing, sweetie?" I asked.

"Right there!" She exclaimed as she pointed her little finger at the tree. "Don't you see them, Mommy? They are right there in trees!"

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Yes, Mommy!" She exclaimed. "They're angry and scary looking!"

Whelp... I was right about her seeing something spooky.

And it took the four of us adults all of two minutes to clean up and take our happy asses back into that house!

We all agreed that the only logical explanation was that she had legitimately seen the ghosts of the Confederate soldiers that had died on that very battlefield in May of 1864.

We also agreed that there was no way she could have made it all up either. I know for a fact that my four year old little girl had no way of knowing that the Confederate soldiers wore grey uniforms during the Civil War.

She never saw another ghost again in her life and now that she's eighteen, she has no memories of her spooky spirit sighting. But, she certainly made believers out of us all that night and fourteen years later, I still believe that ghosts do, in fact, exist.


In hindsight, perhaps the ghosts of those fallen soldiers announced their presence to us that night to remind us that barbecue and beer should not be our sole focus of the Holiday. You can grill some burgers and hotdogs another day.

Take the time to remember those who are missing and those who are missed this day. They truly deserve that small amount of respect.

Happy Memorial Day!!


So, now that you've read that...

Do you believe in ghosts?

Art Of Almost
Posted:May 27, 2018 2:11 pm
Last Updated:Oct 16, 2018 9:59 am

Almost is never enough.

Especially when I am almost always left wanting more.


No matter how good it feels when he hits all the right spots as he slides his member so deeply inside of me...

No matter how hard I cum, over and over and over again, around his large, rigid member...

No matter how tender my used little cunt feels or how exhausted my body is once we have finished...

I will continue to be nothing more than an insatiable, greedy, dirty little slut that is so desperately hungry for her Daddy's huge cock!


He finished with a growl as he sprayed his cum all over my ass. I didn't bother to clean up before I eased down from all fours to lay on my belly next to where he had collapsed onto his back. He was panting from the pleasure of his explosion next to me when I felt his jizz starting to run between my tight little ass cheeks and down towards my pussy, which was still sopping wet and engorged.

I was still feeling incredibly horny, which was perfectly normal for me, but I was also feeling a hint of frustration as well. Daddy had decided that he was in the mood to pound the tightness out of my sweet, little ass. Don't get me wrong, I loved cumming as he rammed and used my ass so mercilessly. The one thing I did not care for is how anal almost always leaves me hanging in the worst way.

He fucked me so hard that his cock had stretched my tight, puckered little hole agape when pulled out. I could feel his cum slowly trickling down and into my thoroughly used ass. My mind wandered into a fantasy about him fucking my perfect little ass and pulling out, and jamming his dick in my mouth as he released a hige load straight down my thoat.

My newest taboo fantasy had definititly ignited a fire inside of me. My ravenous pussy ached with a hunger that would only be satiated by the pleasure he brings me. Deep down, I knew it was too soon to ask for me, but my lack of self control had me begging for the violation of my sweet young twat hole.

The first time, I asked for cock very nicely. I even said please, but he told me to wait patiently until he was ready. Unfortunately my never ending desire for pleasure and my urgent need for release made my patience run thin.

Too thin, as it turned out.

The second time, I tried to ask him nicely, like a good little girl, but I made bratty little demands instead. I knew I had gone too far when my pleas turned into petulance and my begging sounded like the demands a spoiled little .

I was standing directly on the very thin line that was my Daddy's patience and then I decided to dive in head first by channeling one of the biggest brats in literary history.

Yep, I did my best Veruca Salt impression when I opened my mouth and demanded, "Daddy, I want some dick and I want it now!"

Uh oh. Not good.

I saw a flash in Daddy's eyes as he muttered a single word, "Punishment."

He grabbed my right wrist and cuffed it and tightened the strap and he quickly repeated the same with my left.

And when he moved down to my legs he made another short demand, "Spread!"

He cuffed my ankles and my legs spread apart further as he tightened the straps until I was completely vulnerable and at his mercy. I could not hear his movements over the sound of my racing pulse pounding in my ears and I gasped with surprise as he tied my favorite silk paisley scarf over my eyes as a blindfold.

"Do not move. Do not cum." He said coldly and I obliged him by laying perfectly still. "And if you let that greedy little cunt hole of yours cum without my permission, I will continue to deny you from all pleasures for a month! Understand?"

I was unsure if I had permission to speak, so I nodded my head.

"I did not hear you, bitch!" He scolded.

"Yes, sir!" I blurted out shakily.

"Now be a good girl and take your punishment," he said gently.

"Yes, Daddy," I squeaked and I prepared myself for the glorious agony of being brought so close to my release only to be left on the brink over and over again.

Daddy used his fingers, two of my favorite vibrators, and my giant dildo named Goliath as he drove me closer and closer to the edge until I could almost feel my pussy quiver with the impending explosion of my ecstasy only to denied at the last possible moment.

He was relentless as tried to force me over the edge and there were several times that I almost gave in to my overwhelming desire for bliss. Almost, but not quite. He continued to torture my engorged little twat until it was aching for him to stop. I almost decided to give up, so I could moan, scream, and beg him for mercy.

Almost... but, I didn't. 

After what felt like an eternity, it seemed as though he had eased up to give my poor little throbbing, puffy pussy a break.

Or so I thought.

I almost screamed from the sudden burst of pleasure I felt as he buried his enormous, throbbing rod deep inside me in one incredilby hard, swift stroke. I could feel the bulbous head of his member pressing against my cervix as he held his cock in place, filling me with the strongest, most primal urge  to cum that I had ever felt.

And that urge intensified quickly as I felt him sliding his cock ever so slowly out of my cunt. I was no longer hold back my moans as he eased himself deeper once more. I could feel every single inch of him opening up my sensitive, desperate hole. The sensations were so overwhelming, that I had no clue when I actually started begging him for mercy.

"Please..." I begged. My tone was barely audible and absolutely pathetic as my voice faded until my last word came out silent "Please... please... please... pl..."

I felt my body go limp with shame as the tears of my defeat started to stream from my eyes and soak into my favorite silk blindfold. Daddy's punishment had broken me.

The moment that I had accepted defeat was when I finally heard him say the words that I had been longing to hear, "It's okay now, baby. You can let go."

Words cannot describe the sudden rush of relief, pleasure, and ecstasy I felt as I exploded around his cock. My head was swimming until I felt dizzy as my pussy violently pulsated and throbbed around his member, milking until massive bursts of his cum erupted from his cock. He filled me up with his seed and continued pumping me until I came even harder the second time.

I'm pretty sure that my mind had short-circuited due to the sheer intensity of my second orgasm. I had no clue that I had actually passed out until I felt him placing a cool, damp washcloth on my forehead. My eyes fluttered open and I gazed lovingly into my Daddy's eyes. For the first time in a very long time, all of my desires had been satiated.

Almost was definitely enough.

"I love you, my sweet little girl," he said softly as he kissed me on the forehead and laid down next to me.

"I am so very sorry that my punishment caused these tears," he said has he gently wiped the soft, damp cloth over my cheeks and eyes, kissing them after he was done. He snuggled up next to and pulled me close as he wrapped his big, strong arms around me. I laid my head on his chest to listen to his steady heartbeat.

I felt protected and comfortable wrapped in his arms and the rythym of his heartbeat was incredibly soothing to me. I knew that I had everything that I would ever need right there. My eyelids grew heavier as a true feeling of contentment washed over me.

"Good girl," Daddy whispered softly in my ear, "Sleep now."

And in that absolutely perfect moment, I fell into a deep and glorious slumber filled with sweet, sensual dreams inspired by the most incredible orgasm I felt in my life.


But he only created a monster...

A monster with one hell of a dirty little secret that I must never reveal to him... I absolutely loved the deliciously sweet, torturous torment of denial and the heavenly bliss of the release that followed.

I almost got myself punished on purpose, just to have him do that to me again.


Have All The Songs Been Written?
Posted:Apr 14, 2018 8:45 pm
Last Updated:Oct 16, 2018 10:53 pm

Hiya Blogland!

Long time, no see! Joey and I are finally living and working on the road again after taking a few months off due to some family obligations. It was a relief to come back out here where we belong! I truly missed the freedom of the road during that time.

I am hoping that this post will be the first of many to come, but I cannot guarantee that the evil bitch called writer's block won't mess with my head again. It's an awful feeling to be shut down creatively. I've been thinking about my blocked thoughts and I decided to write this post.

I guess you could say that writer's block has inspired me to write again.

Isn't that ironic?

Or is the phrase, "inspired by writer's block" an oxymoron?


Up until today, I have not been inspired to write a lot these past few weeks and I don't know why. Was it caused by stress? Anxiety? Life? Or have I lost my creative mojo?

I do know that I have been struggling to write something worthwhile for months now! Don't get me wrong, I have posted a few snippets and tales here and there, but they haven't exactly been my best works of naughty storytelling.

And don't even get me started on the stories I wrote that ended up being absolute stinkers that truly needed to go out with last week's garbage. I always tried to fix them during the editing process. I would put hours into writing and rewriting only to realize that my story was actually worse than it was before!

Wasting so much time and effort on a story that ended up being tucked away into file number thirteen is incredibly disheartening and utterly frustrating to me as a writer. My failure to compose a compelling story that would flow like a sheet in the wind was seriously stressing me out. My writing suffered and I felt the passion I once had for sharing my creativity with others diminishing.

I did the only thing I could do, I stepped away from writing. More or less, I quit. And I hated myself for giving up on my passion for sharing my creativity with others. Then again, I did not have much creativy left to share anyway.

No big loss, right?


While taking a break from the stress caused by my fizzled out creativity , I realized that I do have an awesome group of people that regularly read and/or follow my blog. I realized that I shouldn't necessarily be writing for myself. I should be writing for you, my readers, followers, and fans. Without any of you, I would have nobody to share my creativity with.

And that was the breakthrough I needed to bring a portion of the inspiration I had lost so many months ago back to me. New ideas are starting to flow through my mind again and plans for a couple of stories are actually falling into place. My thoughts are not quite as jumbled up or random as they were.

Obviously, the stories I am working on are going to to be a work in progress for a little while longer. I wish I could write something worthwhile in an hour or two, but I just can't do it.

Here's a fun fact about my writing style:

I have literally worked on getting the right flow of words in a single sentence for over an hour before. Believe it or not, something as simple as the correct flow or usage of words can make or break a story for me.

Yes, I really am that anal retentive about my writing.

*giggle* I said anal! Teehee! *snort*

While I do realize that I cannot create a masterpiece on every attempt I make to spin a tale, I still don't want my work to be a failure in my own eyes, or even worse, yours!

Hopefully this post will be the stone that causes an avalanche of ideas for more creative musings to share with y'all in the very near future!

Until next time, my sexy friends!


Shape Of You
Posted:Feb 5, 2018 1:53 am
Last Updated:Apr 27, 2020 6:11 am
Over the years and throughout all of my sexual experiences, I have learned that I do not necessarily have one sex position that I would consider to be my favorite. Granted, missionary will always be the timeless classic, but one needs a little more variety and spice in the bedroom!

Every partner that I have ever been with moves in different ways. Their bodies have their own unique size and shape. Sexual techniques vary from person to person. What worked perfectly with one partner may end up being disastrous with another. Through trial, error, and a lot of experimentation, I have found that my favorite sex positions have changed from partner to partner.

With my Joey, I absolutely love having sex in the "Prone Bone" position. That's right... I love to be face down, ass up as he gives it to me from behind! With his size, length, rigidity and his incredible techniques, he hits all of the perfect spots, every single time! It feels as though our bodies were made only for each other to enjoy, like a lock and key. The shape of our bodies fit together like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle while we move together in perfect synchronization.


I love the anticipation of waiting for him to enter me as I lay on my belly in front of him.

My wetness coats the swollen head of his cock as he teases the opening of my tight young cunt.

Feeling him slowly slide inside of me always makes my gasp and moan. I love feeling his cock opening me up and stretching my eager little pussy.

My pussy tightens around his cock, milking him, as he thrusts inside of me with deep, long strokes.

I move my hips to guide him to that perfect spot that feels so indescribably good.

His pace gradually quickens as I get closer and closer to my bliss and I beg him not to stop.

I feel his strong hands grabbing my hips and squeezing my milky white ass as he holds me in place.

His slow, gentle thrusts are now hard, deep, and painful in the most pleasurable of ways.

He grips me tighter as he fucks me harder and harder, using my eager young body for his pleasure.

"Cum for me, baby!" He commands.

And I obey as I explode around his cock.

He continues to ride me through my orgasm as my body shakes and quivers in ecstasy.

"I'm going to cum on you!" He states urgently as I feel him pull his throbbing cock out of my tender, used fuck hole.

I feel one of his hands squeezing my hip tight enough to leave a bruise as an animalistic growl escapes his throat. His other hand is stroking his cock as he coats my ass and lower back in the hot, sticky blasts of his cum.

He shakes the remaining cum off of his throbbing member and slaps my ass with it a few times before collapsing on the bed next to me where we lay together silent, breathless, and utterly satisfied.

All Along The Watchtower
Posted:Feb 4, 2018 9:05 am
Last Updated:Sep 3, 2018 6:49 pm

Just out of curiosity...

How many blogs do you currently follow in your "My Watched Blogs" list?


And for the sake of discussion...

What compelled you to follow those blogs?


Personally, I am currently following thirty blogs. Some are more active than others, but I rarely remove any blogs from my watch list. Most of the blogs I follow have stories in them that I am particularly fond of, so I put them on my watch list as a way of book marking the authors I have enjoyed the most!

If you see me watching... keep up the good work!

I don't watch any blogs.
Five or Less.
Five to Ten.
Ten to Twenty.
Twenty to Thirty
Thirty to Fifty
I am a blog voyeur! I watch everybody!
6 Comments , 25 votes
Learn Me Right
Posted:Feb 4, 2018 6:39 am
Last Updated:Dec 4, 2018 11:07 am

Two years ago when I first started blogging, I did a post featuring twenty random facts about yours truly.

You can check it out here: Knowing Me Knowing You 20 Facts About Me

Seeing as a lot can happen in two years' time, I have decided to compile a list twenty more random tidbits, fun facts, and true tales that are all about me, Jess: The Trucker Babe.


1. My favorite colors are red, purple, and blue. In that order.


2. My favorite colors to wear are black, dark gray, and navy blue. In that order.


3. Lime green cars annoy me for no reason whatsoever!


4. My favorite food is tacos. Yummy!


5. I am a big time Marvel comic nerd!


6. When I was in the fifth grade, I competed in the world Future Problem Solving competition in Ann Arbor, Michigan in the solo division. I took home the bronze medal for placing third in my age group.

Yep... I am a total nerd!


7. I absolutely love "The Big Bang Theory" and I secretly have a huge crush on Raj!


I guess that is not so much of a secret anymore!


8. My all-time favorite song is Israel Kamakawiwoʻole's version of "Somewhere Over The Rainbow." Gives me chills every single time I hear it.


9. I often fantasize about having a threesome with Captain America and Black Widow.


10. I have a total of seven tattoos. My favorite is the "tigerfly" tattoo on my left arm.


11. My only body piercing is my tongue, mostly because I am too chicken shit to get anything else pierced!


12. I met Gary Sinise after seeing "The Lieutenant Dan Band" play in concert at Fort Wainwright near Fairbanks, Alaska. He is as cool as the underside of a pillow! And a very talented bass guitar player!


13. This girl is a beer drinker! My favorites are Guinness, Yeungling, and Krombacher.


14. My pinkie toenails are nonexistent.


15. My most recent sexual injury happened about two weeks ago and I am still limping from it.

Way to go, Joey!


16. I despise raw onions, but I love onion rings!

It's a texture thing.


17. I can recite every single line from the movie "The Lion King" from start to finish.


18. "The Princess Bride" is my all-time favorite movie!


19. My strangest sexual fantasy is to be blindfolded while my partner fucks me with random household objects and I have to guess what the object is to "earn" my orgasm.


20. Last, but certainly not least...

The story of my most embarassing sexual moment!


"Ma'am, where are his pants?"

That was the one and only question a police officer asked after he busted my boyfriend and I getting busy in the driver's seat of his GT. We were both 18 and it didn't occur to us that parking at the roadside picnic area probably wasn't the best idea. At least Officer Cockblock knocked on the car window about a second after we had finished our front seat frolic.

Unfortunately for my boyfriend, his pants were misplaced in the midst of our young lust and he was naked from the waist down when he opened the window. The cop got a bird's eye view of my boyfriend's equipment when he pointed his flashlight inside the car.

To this day, I still think it's funny that Officer Cockblock blamed me for my boyfriend's missing pants, even though they were found wadded up on the driver's side floorboard. Somehow he just knew I was the bigger miscreant.

Funnily enough, he was absolutely correct!


I truly hope you enjoyed learning a little bit more about me!

Curious to learn more? Feel free to ask me anything!


Never Gonna Leave This Bed
Posted:Jan 26, 2018 10:32 pm
Last Updated:May 28, 2018 5:56 am

I could not wait to kiss her for the first time and that was the very first thing I did when we met her and her husband. As simple as it is, that is my favorite memory of her. The way her soft lips felt on my own. The taste of her mouth, as I parted her lips gently with my tongue. How passionately she kissed me as our hands began to explore the curves of our bodies. And how erotic it was once our tongues explored each other's pussies. I long to feel the touch of her soft, smooth skin once more and I miss the way the our bodies intertwined in that wonderful bed as our men eagerly watching the show we gave them.

I want to relive the entire days we spent in that bed. But the moment I will never forget was when I finally got the opportunity to watch my Joey bury his long, thick, rock hard cock deep inside of her tight, young pussy over and over again. I will never forget how sexy she looked as she enjoyed each of my husband's inches slowly sliding inside of her tiny body. When she begged him to go harder and faster, I felt my pussy quiver inside. I became ravenous as I watched her take him harder and harder. My greedy little body was starving for cock and I will never forget the moment my Joey gave me exactly what I needed...

"Baby," Joey said, "I want you to suck his cock. Get him good and hard so you can fuck him."

It was beautiful!

My husband... My lover... My Joey... finally understood how beautiful sharing the gift of my body with another man could be. I could see it in his eyes as he encouraged me. I was deeply excited as I took the other man's cock slowly into my mouth and he was rock hard within seconds. He rolled me onto my belly and buried himself deep inside of my hungry little cunt. He fucked me hard and fast, matching the pace that my Joey was fucking his own wife. I could tell that watching me getting fucked was surprisingly erotic for my Joey and he couldn't keep his eyes off of me with another man. I met Joey's eyes and I saw nothing but his love for me in them as he poured the coals to the other woman.

Her moans were in perfect harmony with mine as the song of our mutual pleasures filled the bedroom. I met her gaze as the wave of bliss washed over her body until her tight little fuck hole was flooded. My husband was soaked by the sweet juices gushing out of her like a fountain. She raised her hips and started grinding herself against my man as she used his rod for her pleasure. The ene in front of me was of the sexiest things I had ever seen and my body reacted accordingly.

I pressed my ass against him as I began to grind and gyrate with his rhythm. He was buried within me and the swollen head of his cock was hitting the perfect spot. My orgasm was building up fast and I wanted to feel it's release more than anything else in the world. My moans echoed all around us as my ecstasy exploded around the other man's cock. I buried my face into the mattress as my body shivered from the apex of my pleasure.

Once I regained my senses, I noticed that my Joey had pulled out of her dripping wet twat. He was on his knees in front of me, slowly stroking his member. The other man followed Joey's lead and slid himself out of my hungry little fuck hole and moved in front of his wife.

"You little slut should know what to do," Joey said sternly.

"Do not make us ask," the other man added.

I glanced over at my girl crush and met her gaze. She had a familiar, knowing look in her eyes that mirrored my own. She was still as hungry for cock as I was! I gave her a flirty little wink, which ended up being our signal to clean each other's pussy juices off of our own husband's cocks.

And yes, we sucked them off together and swallowed their loads like the good little cum sluts that we are. I can still taste the delicious flavor of her juices mixed with my Joey's cum.


That was only the beginning of the many adventures that my Joey and I shared with the first couple we ever met. We had an amazing time in their bed!

And even after spending days with them, n of us ever wanted to leave that cum sprayed, sweat covered, pussy juice soaked, sex coated bed.

Limerick You're A Lady
Posted:Jan 17, 2018 3:41 pm
Last Updated:Feb 4, 2018 3:31 am

I love limericks! They are foul, offensive, crass, and utterly hilarious! And I am going to share a few of my favorite dirty, raunchy, and utterly disgusting limericks with you today! Yay!

Do you have a favorite limerick that you would like to share? I would love to see it in the comments below!

I hope you enjoy my collection of perverse poems and racy rhymes!



There was a young trucker named Briard.
Who had a young that he hired
To fuck when not trucking.
But trucking plus fucking
Got him so fucking tired he got fired!


There once was a woman from Wheeling
Who lacked in sexual feeling.
Then a cynic named Boris
Simply touched her clitoris
And she had to be scraped from the ceiling!


There once was a man named McSweeney
Who spilled some gin on his weenie.
Now, just to be couth
He added vermouth
And slipped his girl a martini


There was a young fellow from Sparta
A really magnificent farter
On the strength of one bean
He’d fart God Save the Queen
And Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata


I wooed a stewed nude in Bermuda.
I was lewd, but my God, she was lewder!
She said it was crude
To be wooed in the nude
I pursued her, subdued her, and screwed her!


On the internet they found romance
That put both in a hot sexual trance
But each had a gripe
About having to type
With a hand stuck down into their pants


Not needed are muscles to flex.
Or the sight of some big beefy pecs!
A delicate flower
Is holding the power
As to whether you guys will have sex!


To a lady I fancied, I said
"Your lips are incredibly red"
I was really a gent
Since actually I meant
"No doubt you give marvelous head!"


"I'm sick of Tchaikovsky", said May,
"And this Handel and Bach that we play!"
So she put down her fiddle
And diddled her middle;
"It's time for Depussy, I say!"


There was a young man with a fiddle
Who asked of his girl, '"Do you diddle?"
She replied, "Yes, I do,
But I prefer it with two!
It's twice as much fun in the middle!"

The Word Girl
Posted:Jan 8, 2018 12:24 am
Last Updated:Jan 21, 2018 7:03 pm
I have never been one to pull my punches when it comes to speaking what's on my mind. I usually blame that on my malfunctioning brain to mouth filter, or rather, lack therof. Odds are, if I think it, I say it. Sadly, I don't always think about my choice of words and an offensive word (or six) will pop out.

Unfortunately, there are some folks out there that are not as fond of using certain four letter words in every day conversation as I am. My choice of expletives has occasionally given a random acquaintance (or three) a minor case of butt-hurt. It's their decision to be wound up tighter than my cunt over my colorful vocabulary choices.

What? Did I say something wrong there? Did I just sneak the queen mother of all offensive words in there?

Yep! I sure did!

Why would I use such a heinous word like cunt?

Because I can. Because I am not afraid of a word. And because, quite frankly, it is a pretty cool word. Why shouldn't I use it? In fact, I think more people should use it!

Perhaps, we will become desensitized to the negative connotations associated with the word 'cunt' over time. Then again... if the wrong person called me a cunt maliciously, odds are, that person would have one hell of a fight on their hands. When used as an insult, 'cunt' still elicits an emotional response out of me.

And that is precisely why I choose to use the word cunt on a regular basis. To soften the negative connotations of the word over time. Eventually, I hope to completely desensitize myself (and others) to that overly villainized, yet utterly delightful word.

♡Jess: The Cunty Babe











Play That Funky Music
Posted:Jan 5, 2018 4:30 am
Last Updated:Feb 4, 2018 3:31 am

Question Time!

☆ Do you play any musical instruments? Which ones?

☆Is there a musical instrument that you've always wanted to play, but never got the opportunity to learn?

Feel free to share your answers in the comments below!


My answers...

If you read my last post, you now know that I was, in fact, a band geek. If you missed it, you can check it out here: American Pie

Primarily, I was a flute player, however I did learn how to play quite a few other instruments along the way. I also played the piccolo, oboe, bassoon, and soprano saxophone as needed. I can also rock the bass guitar!

One instrument that I have always wanted to learn is the piano. I have always been envious of a seriously talented piano player. Mostly because I never got to try it out for myself. I guess sometimes you want what the things you don't have for yourself.

I forgot one thing!

My Joey can attest to this fact...

I can blow on a skin flute for hours. In fact, that is probably one of my not-so hidden talents!

Do you have any hidden talents?

American Pie
Posted:Jan 4, 2018 10:31 pm
Last Updated:Oct 16, 2018 10:11 am
This one time, at band camp...


Yes, I played the flute in high school. And no, I never put my flute there!

Yes, I have been to band camp. And no, it was not a giant freak fest.

That doesn't mean that I didn't have some naughty fun in the band room! There was this one band geek named Kyle that happened to show me a great time!

And it all started in the band room when I saw him playing with his trom-boner all alone...


It was the week before the state small ensemble and solo competition and I was practicing morning, noon, and night in preparation of my solo performance. I was stressed out by the piece I had chosen, Clair de Lune by Claude Debussey.

The arrangement my band instructor had recommended was simple, sweet, and elegant. This version focused on the whimsical sadness you can hear within the haunting melody. It was the perfect choice for a flutist like myself. Yet it was absolutely frustrating to play. The arrangement for the flute was absolutely unforgiving to the slightest mistake in pitch, tempo, or mood of the melody. I was hell bent on achieving perfection, yet I was setting myself up for mediocrity. And failure.

So, there I was, hating a song I once loved because I was that girl that had already lettered seven times in band. And I was the girl that always strive for more. My goal was to get my eighth and final letter for band and a 'I' rating would do it. It was a goal I intended on seeing through, so I logged as many hours as I could before and after school in one or the small, quiet practice rooms that were inside my high school band room. I practiced with the accompanying pianist in the mornings and most afternoons, I was alone with my flute, sheet music, and metronome perfecting my pace, timing, and phrasing of the notes.

On this particular afternoon, I was working on a particularly troublesome section of my solo when I heard a solo trombone playing Duke Ellington's "Sophisticated Lady" in the practice room next to mine. I closed my eyes and listened to the smooth, jazzy notes coming from the deep brass instrument next door.

The arrangement sounded downright sexy to my seventeen year old ears and I had to see who was playing. I stepped out of my practice room and peeked in the room next to mine. And there he was... the one boy I ever had a bit of a crush on in the entire band. Kyle. My heart fluttered and I felt my face flush when he looked up from his music and noticed me. He stopped playing when our eyes locked and he motioned for me to join him in his practice room.

I stepped inside shyly and closed the door behind me. I pulled the curtain over the window on the door and turned toward Kyle. He set his trombone down on its standard stepped towards me. I didn't even realize that I was still clutching my flute until he reached out and took it from my hand. He carefully set it on the ledge of his music stand.

No words were ever spoken between us that afternoon as we began to acknowledge our mutual teenage lust for one another. It was a clumsy tryst as we both fumbled with each other's clothing between wet, sloppy kisses. His hands were everywhere! Removing my bra. Unzipping my jeans. Teasing my nipples. Grabbing my ass.

And then... I felt a hand sliding beneath my panties and two probing fingers. He stood behind me and pressed his swollen manhood into my back. I reached behind me and rubbed it through his jeans as I enjoyed the sensations I was feeling inside my young, wet pussy. I didn't cum very often back then, but somehow he managed to raise me to a full crescendo in the band room that day!

As I approached my diminuendo, I turned and lowered to my knees. I unzipped Kyle's pants and pulled out his impressive trom-boner. And then I expertly played the skin flute until my band geek practice mate reached his forte, which I ended up swallowing in one swift gulp. I was proud of being such a talented little skin flutist!

And then we heard the door to the band room slamming shut and the sound of footsteps approaching the practice rooms. My heart was racing as Kyle and I regained our composure and put all of our excess instruments safely into their cases. I stood in front of Kyle as he raised his trombone to his lips. I tried to look as innocent as I could as I pretended to be helping him maintain the tempo of his piece. It was a weak facade, but it was the best I had. We were totally busted!

A quarter note later, our band instructor, Mr. Moenning opened the door and poked his head in. He let us know that he was going to be locking up the band room in ten minutes and it was time to wrap it up for the day. He gave us a funny look as grabbed my flute and slipped into my practice room next door. I disassembled and cleaned my flute before locking it up in its case and then I gathered up all of my sheet music and stuffed it into my music folder.

I carried my belongings out of my pratice room and literally bumped into Kyle waiting for me outside my door. He offered to help me carry the mess in my arms. And surprisingly, I let him. We left the band room and waited in the vast emptiness of our high school hallway corridor while Mr. Moenning locked up. Our teacher tested the door and then we made our way toward the parking lot exit. Kyle and I walked in silence behind our teacher, exchanging a few flirty glances here and there along the way. We were seriously smitten with each other and as a result, we were utterly distracted.

"You two must have been practicing something good in that room by yourselves," Me. Moenning said loudly, startling us both. He then erupted into laughter. Of course he knew what we had been up to.

Embarassing, isn't it?

Kyle's eyes met mine. I saw a flash of shame followed by a glimpse of fear and then his eyes filled with lust. I got lost in his hypnotic gaze that I nodded without any thought as he signaled where he wanted to go next. No words were said, yet his message was loud and clear. We both wanted more.

Kyle took my hand as Mr. Moenning opened the door to the parking lot. We rushed past him without a glance and made a bee line for Kyle's car. He drove us to our empty high school football field where we found the spot to continue the performance of our duet. It was a the best performance of our careers and it was the first time either of us had multiple huge standing ovations.


About a week later, Kyle and I performed the final duet between our bodies as we celebrated the 'I' rating we had each earned respectively at the state competition that day. We both knew then, there would be no refrain of the melody we once composed together. Our lively procession had softened and slowed as it gradually transformed into a simple haunting melody that slowly faded until the last note disappeared forever. After the tempo and tone of our sweet melody had changed so drastically, Kyle and I knew there would be no curtain calls or a special matinees of our preformance in the future. We agreed that we could never compose another opus with anywhere near as much beauty and raw emotion as our first duet, ever again.

The brief collaboration between Kyle and myself came to a graceful end on the day the music died between us.


By the way... I still own my flute.

And no... I still haven't put it there.

What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?
Posted:Dec 29, 2017 1:46 am
Last Updated:Jan 7, 2018 6:49 pm

What is your favorite way to celebrate on New Year's Eve?


This year has gone by in a flash and it is almost time to celebrate the start of 2018!

If most people are like me, they will be spending the last two days of 2017 finalizing their plans to celebrate the beginning of a brand new year. Whether they decide to throw a huge party at their house, meet some friends at their favorite watering hole, or if their plans involve being asleep in their bed; Everyone has their own favorite way to celebrate on New Year's Eve!

Happy New Year!!


I love to throw a huge party at my house!
I prefer to have a quiet evening at home with my family.
I love to go out with my friends to our favorite bar or club!
I love to travel to places like Las Vegas, Chicago, Los Angeles, or any big city that parties all night!
Nothing compares to Times Square!
Three words: Bonfires, Beer, and Fireworks!
There's nothing better than starting the New Year off with a bang in the bedroom!
Nothing beats looking my finest at a formal New Year's Gala!
I'm all about the fun... noise makers, balloons, confetti, and music!
Other: Please Share!
7 Comments , 21 votes
Picture To Burn
Posted:Dec 25, 2017 9:17 pm
Last Updated:Apr 28, 2020 6:42 pm

Tributes: Are they a flattering gesture? Or are they disgusting, degrading, and completely unwelcomed?


For those that are not aware of what a tribute is, it is when somebody (usually a male) prints out your photo and jerks off to it until he blows his load all over your photo. The person then sends a picture of the finished product or a video of the entire process back to the person who inspired their lust for that day.

Sounds kinda gross, eh? Yet at the same time, it might just be oddly flattering. From what I have seen online, most people tend to either love them or hate them.

Personally, my opinion of a tribute can be summed up as indifference. I have received quite a few tributes over the years and at first, I found them offensive and degrading. The first time I ever received a tribute was quite the shock for me as I had no idea that was even a "thing." My first instinct was to be appalled that this random dude had violated my pretty little picture and I pretty much told the poor guy how disgusting I found his "gesture" to be. In hindsight, I was think I was a bit harsh on the poor guy, but I honestly had no clue as to how I was even supposed to react to something like that.

Obviously, that wasn't the only tribute that I have ever received and after a little while, I changed the way I looked at them. I still didn't want to see then in my inbox, but they no longer made me angry either. I had come to the realization that a tribute is intended to be a compliment. Misguided as they are, a compliment is still a compliment and I can accept that. Fast forward a few years and all of the shock value they once held for me is long gone because I simply got used to receiving them.

At this point, tributes are neither offensive nor exciting to me. I just delete them without a word and go about my day.

Why don't I care for tributes? Because watching a random guy beat his meat to my pictures does absolutely nothing for me on a physical level. I always found that odd in a way because I do get turned on by watching my lover pleasure himself in front of me. What's the difference between the two? One has been invited into my bedroom as my lover, while the other is trying to kick down door as an uninvited guest. In other words, I only want the man that I have chosen to share my body with in my bedroom. Nobody else.

With all that being said about my dislike of tributes, I do feel that they have one redeeming quality about them. I find them to be rather flattering, in their own weird little way. Although I would definitely prefer not to actually receive a face full of a stranger's spunk, I do find it genuinely flattering when I am told that someone finds me sexy enough to get off to. As a thirty-five year old mother of four, it is reaffirming to me that I haven't lost it yet! And of course, that gives my confidence a bit of a boost, which is always nice.

At the end of the day, I see tributes as being nothing more than a misguided compliment to the recipient.

A compliment that I would much rather receive in the written word.



Do tell...

Have you ever been the recipient of a tribute photo or video?

Have you ever given somebody a tribute?


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