CBW #24 - Today's Letter

Hi boys and girls !
Today's Cock Blog is brought to you by the letter E

What words can you think of the begin with the letter E?
No, 'eat out' is two words.
Dirty Debbie thinks of:

The Toy Drawer - #3

This is one of my favorite toys; I use it as a sort of clit tickler.
It’s an attachment that is put on my vibrator. The vibrator has three different levels of pulsing strength. Since my clit gets very sensitive, I don’t usually use it past the middle setting.

The ‘petals’ move against my clit and inner lips and it’s just plain delicious.
This is the toy I use the most often after I shave my pussy. Since just the act of shaving turns me on, especially because fifty percent off the time CJ helps out, it gets a good workout from me.

Naughty Schoolgirl Part III-The Blessing

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CBW #23 - Our First Guest

A new type of cock this week ladies and gentleman!
I had someone send me a picture of his handsome cock along with a note asking me to post it for CBW.
How can a good cock loving girl refuse?
I know other bloggers request pics for their CBW's, but I have never done that.
Now that I've gotten an unsolicited one, I sort of like it. So if anyone out there wants to show off...believe Debbie's place is the place to do it.

So with no further ado...The email and cock I got. Thanks again for that fine example of manhood.

Hello!

Love your blogs...I have a pic of myself for you for a Wed cockblog. I am 8" long and 6" around. Would love to see it posted! Thanks-

Scott

Naughty Schoolgirl Part II:Fireman, Soldier, or Indian Chief?

Be sure to enjoy Part I before moving on.


The drive wasn’t long, but it was to a part of town that I was unfamiliar with, so I took my time to make sure that the directions I had Googled were correct.
Pulling into the parking lot that Jim had described, I began to wonder about what I was doing as the neighborhood appeared really old and decrepit. Was this a trap?
I almost turned around and went back for my car when I found the building, a rat hole of a place that had definitely seen better days. I think it had once been an old department store that had gone out of business many years ago that had been turned into an apartment or condo complex years ago in the attempted regentrification of the neighborhood.

Catching my breath, I opened the door to a lobby that had seen better days and went inside. Jangling my keys nervously around my index finger, I looked around only to see a sleepy old desk attendant looking me over with his eyes when he asked me in a deep, gruff voice that only years of smoking can produce “Looking for someone?”
“Uh, yes.” I stammered. “Jim Hunter?”
The old man flicked his fingers to the left towards a beat up elevator door and growled “801” before returning to the sports section of the paper that he had been reading.

“Sheesh!” I thought. “What have I gotten myself into?”
Sliding the elevator door closed behind me and punching the button for the eighth floor, I decided to get my pepper spray out just in case my date turned out to be a dud, or worse. A girl can’t be too careful these days, now can she?

The elevator creaked to a halt at the eighth floor, and I started down a hall lit by bare bulbs hanging from the ceiling. “Wow! This is a real crap factory!” I thought as I paused before a door marked 801.
Drawing a deep breath and adjusting myself for a final time, I had one split second of last hesitation before I knocked.
The man whom I had been having so many sexy conversations via the net opened the door, and I was shocked to see a tall stranger dressed not only in the garb of a Catholic priest, but wearing a mask as well. “Come in, Debbie,” a voice smoothly answered from behind the black veil that hid his features.
I was surprised to feel my feet moving forward into his foyer all on their own, but not as surprised as when I entered his living room.
To say that the apartment was tastefully decorated would be a grave understatement, in fact, it was absolutely gorgeous and totally unlike the building or neighborhood that surrounded it.

A leather sofa and chair dominated the room with their presence, and being one who enjoys the finer things in life even if I can’t afford them, I knew in an instant that these weren’t the quality of furniture that you find at the Room Store, but plush, well manufactured furnishings that had obviously set Jim (if that was his real name) back a pretty penny.
The floor was solid maple and finished to a high gloss, and in the middle of the room laid an antique Persian rug that was at least 100 years old.
The other accoutrements were a strangely tasteful mix of antiques both old and post-modern, and on the wall hung a print of LeRoy Neiman’s “Casino” that stunningly complemented everything else.

“Wow!” I gushed, “This is great! And I really like that Neiman print on the wall.” I stammered.
“That’s not a print my dear.” Said Jim with a voice satin smooth that melted me when I heard it slip from beneath his mask.
“I work hard, and I enjoy indulging myself in the finer things in life when I have the chance, and that was one piece of art that I just couldn’t pass on when it came up for auction several years ago. It set me back quite a few dollars, but I’m sure you’ll agree it was worth it as it completes the room just so.”
“Now” he said, “you’ve been a very naughty girl in school today, and your teacher told me that you were caught looking at a man’s penis while you were supposed to be working at your assignment. You WILL have to be punished!”

Grabbing me by my arm, Jim brought me over to the sofa where he sat down and yanked me across his knee. The rush of it all – the anticipation, the costume, the drive, the neighborhood, and now the fabulous apartment – was more than I could bear, so I just whimpered acquiescence and lay over his knee, knowing from experience what was coming next.

“We can’t allow you young girls to be looking at such trash now can we, and you must be taught a lesson!” he said while pulling my short skirt up to present my panty clad ass to him. I had thoughtfully remembered to wear those standard old white cotton “granny panties” that they used to make us wear in school, and now was quivering with excitement as Jim slowly rubbed his hand across my butt.
“Bad girl Bad girl! Bad girl!” Jim cried as he slapped my ass over and over with each protestation from his mouth.
Oh my god was I turned on!

With each spanking, Jim’s priest cassock he was wearing began to open ever so slightly, and I was amazed to see between the creases a massive uncut cock that grew larger with each slap. Finally he stopped, the tingling of my butt and the sound of the slaps still ringing in my ears.
“So, little Debbie, you want to see a man’s penis, do you? Is that what you want?”
My head still hung over Jim’s legs; I nodded ever so slowly, almost hesitantly.
“Get on your knees, girl, and pray!!!” barked Jim as he shoved me downwards into a devotional genuflecting position.
What choice did I have but to comply?
Kneeling there in prayerful stance, I looked up to see Jim holding his cock in his hands, its head now protruding from the little turtleneck that had been hiding it before.
“Worship it!” Priest Jim now commanded, and I had no alternative but to comply.

Slowly I took that member into my mouth with a small amount of hesitation, and wistfully held it there in my mouth.
“No no no! SUCK on it girl. Suck on it like you would a lollypop or an ice cream treat.” he said.
Coming back to my senses, I began to suck on it as instructed. Soon, his hands grabbed the hair on my head that I had put up in pigtails, and “Priest Jim” began thrusting that powerfully veined cock in and out of my mouth. The more he thrusted, the more I sucked, licking his cockhead with my tongue at random times.
“Good! Good!” intoned Priest Jim. With one more mighty thrust, he drove his cock as far into my mouth as it would go before moaning, “I absolve you of your sins, now take communion!” As he said this, he shot a massive load of jizz that tasted like the sweetest cream all the way down the back of my throat.
Frankly, I don’t think I’ve ever been so honey in all my life as I was at that moment.
What came next was another surprise that still has me woozy.

Next – The Blessing

The Naughty Schoolgirl

It had been a shitty week and I was beginning to really hate my boss.
Have you ever had one of those weeks? Silly question I suppose, as everyone at sometime hates what their boss asks of them at work, but this week was particularity stressful for me as my boss was being more of a bastard than ever before.
Do this, do that, go here, go there, blah blah blah blah that went on and on for what seemed an eternity. Lucky for me that I was able to keep my sanity at work by chatting online with a stud that I stumbled across while perusing one of my favorite porn blogs.
“Jim” kept me amused when I was feeling down, and his constant sexual innuendo with me while I was at work was not only exciting for the obvious reasons, but because I never knew when my supervisor or boss would pop into my “cube” to toss me yet another impossible task.

Jim and I had never met of course, as he was just a chat friend, but it intrigued me one day when he mentioned that he lived in a community rather near to where I live. As we chatted last week, he let me know that he had a kinky fantasy about schoolgirls, and wished that he could bring it to fruition. Well, strike that: actually he had a kink about a lover wearing a standard catholic schoolgirl type uniform, not a liaison with an underage nymphet.

Actually, I had always wanted to play “dress up” fantasies out, with my own desire running to the usual – men in uniform or leather such as a soldier, cop, or fireman rushing in to “save me” from something, then seeing me lying there naked, bound and gagged or in some other peril, having a tent pole rise from his pants and needing something to do about the embarrassing situation after seeing my titties pointing up in the air. Rescuing me from my issue, then allowing me to thank him by sucking him off until he exploded his hot cum alllll the way down my throat.
“Hmmm”, I wondered, “I could really get into some stress relief after this crappy week. I wonder what it would be like to…” My boss screaming out about yet another office “fire”, and of course, I was the only one who could put it out for him, cut me off in mid fantasy. Fuck.
I decided then and there that Jim and I would meet, no matter what, and I began to work out a little scheme in my head about just how it would occur.So work was piling up at my job, and the boss was on my case two, three, for times a day or more.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t really hate my boss, he’s just doing his job and is being pressured himself from his bosses above. Actually, I had looked at him sideways a couple of times in the past, but wrote him off sexually because he seemed kind of boring. I mean, just one look at his office told you he was a no-nonsense kind of guy, probably with a boring sex life and wouldn’t have a perverted thought in his head.

And so there was Jim to keep my mind sane as I sloughed through the drudgery of my day.
On and off we would chat, him at work as well but able to keep me horny enough to finally suggest that we meet some day.
He surprised me on Thursday by typing “How about Friday night after we both get off?” and frankly, my pussy just about ached when I thought about how a great power fuck would release the stress of my workweek.
Chatting back, I finally relented and asked him for his address, telling him that I would be there about 8 pm after we both had a chance to decompress after work.

Decompress. That word in the past had meant a shower and a stiff drink after coming home, then sitting down to a microwave meal to watch Jeopardy to relax my mind, but now it began to take on a whole new meaning as I began to put my kinky little plan into action.

Having gone to Catholic school from grades 1 through 12, I had always been puzzled but fully aware of the effect that our little uniforms had on older men, and since I had kept my shape in the intervening years, kept that plaid skirt, blouse, and crested jacket that still fit pretty well around my womanly curves.

Friday. It finally came and so I said to myself, would I.
It was a typical Friday at the end of the month with forms, spreadsheets, billing and the like stressing me out to the max.
Jim and I chatted but two times during the day as his schedule were as hectic as mine, but I could tell by his innuendo that he was looking forward to this evening just as much as I was.
I haven’t mentioned it before this, but Jim had secretly sent me a web cam picture of his stiff cock one day while I was still at work, telling his boss that he was using his office conference equipment to show off our product to a potential buyer.
Showing off his “product” indeed was more like it! Oh, that stiff well-veined cock looked mighty good to me as I snuck looks at it in between jobs, wishing that I could pop that mushroom head into my mouth and run my tongue over it as it swelled in anticipation of explosion.

Cock clock, cock clock, cock clock. I couldn’t keep my mind on my work as the hours ticked painfully away.
Slowly that damned taskmaster of time crept towards 5:00, and when it hit that magic number the boss, myself, and everyone else was out of there in a shot, grateful to be done with what I and my co-workers had termed “the week from hell”, and looking forward to a cock instead of a clock.

Arriving home, I surveyed the outfit that I had laid out earlier that morning in anticipation of my first fantasy interlude with a complete stranger that had captured my desire, running my fingers across the smoothness of the well pressed blouse and the nubbins of the class tie that lay beside it.
Undressing hurriedly, I hopped into the shower and scrubbed myself extra well, attending especially to those little areas where I hoped a rough touch would be exploring within an hour or two.
Powder and perfume applied, I slipped into my old uniform for the first time since high school, a smile of wonder appearing on my face as I began to understand the fascination that it held for the opposite sex.

I decided to dump the contents of my purse in an old school book bag that I used to carry every day, and grabbing my keys, headed out the door to my rendezvous with a feeling of nervousness and anticipation tingling over my body.

“What would Jim think about this?” I wondered to myself as I slid behind the driver’s seat of my car.

Next – Fireman, Soldier, or Indian Chief?

The F.F.B.

I’m sure you’ve seen it, even if you weren’t aware of it: the FFB.
The Freshly Fucked Breakfast.
Go to a diner or your favorite breakfast spot on a Saturday or Sunday morning and you’ll see small women eating enormous breakfasts. It looks a little amiss. Of course, not only small women are eating FFB’s, it’s just most obvious with them.
Usually they are with men that look relaxed.
I thought about this as I ate my FFB this past Sunday morning. It consisted of cranberry juice, applesauce, cheese, bacon, toast with jam, and a couple of eggs over medium.



I know that I have been doing this for years and years. The FBB meal is almost the absolute finale to me. It is always an extremely enjoyable meal.

Here’s my theory:
I think that my FBB is in all actuality a primitive response to intercourse. I think it’s my mammalian body preparing itself for a pregnancy.
Makes sense to me.

What do you think?
And for the women out there, do you have FBB’s? What about the men?