My Beaver Diary


Author's Note:  I am not your regular, promiscuous bitch.  I just have a colorful life and I have some great romance and sex anecdotes worthy to share.  These pages will be dedicated to my real-life encounters.  Some names I have changed, some I decided not to.  It's my Blog Journal and I follow my own prerogatives.

MY DJ ENCOUNTER.
It was Erica's birthday. No one misses that.  She's a princess and she gets what she wants. She's been a wonderful childhood friend to me, but other people hate her.  Mainly because she reeks of wealth and fortune and looks.  She books a Club at a very renowned Clubbing district my side of the world, sends me a message that if I am no-show, she will have the DJ I have been lusting for, raffled off for charity.  Of course I was there, donned my sheer black top, black super mini-skirt, black boots.  Dressed to party the night away!After my break-up with my fiance', my friends dedicated themselves to match me up.
The food and drinks were fabulous and the music was enough to get anybody up on the ledge and go "loca."  Erica manages to get all the beautiful people in one place and these people know how to party. She is also smart enough to book a really expensive suite for her after party in a nearby hotel.  That's where I found myself after one-two-three and too many tequila shots.  My hound doggy Raoul watched me like a hawk and he had his arms around me, his lips on my neck when I realized where I was.  Raoul is a good friend who expects benefits.  Not tonight or ever.  I woke myself up from a drunk stupor and told him, "La chingada, coño, I am wasted tonight Raoul, but not that wasted!" I managed to get out from his arms and wobbled off.
The party crowd seemed to have just moved to the Suite and I badly wanted some air to breathe.  I tried to squeeze myself out of the bouncing crowd, blaring music and wild laughter when suddenly, a glass of ice water appeared in front of me, held by a hand with a tattoo of a small blue dragon across the wrist.
"Ice water, señorita?" a deep, suave voice said. Shocked, I almost tripped on my own foot, and an arm wrapped around me to keep me up. "Oh, I'm so sorry, you surprised me!" I stuttered.  (It's him! The DJ!  Jesus!  He is so hot!  I just love Erica.  I could do her now!) My first impulse was to run to the powder room to check how I looked but he was already here, beside me!  I might have fainted. "Drink some water, it will help" he continued.
I took the glass, still completely stunned, I gulped most of it the water trickled down my chin. He chuckled, took out a hankie and tried to wipe me off. I muttered an apology again and took the hankie. I have not seen him this close, standing next to him, my body tingled and trembled.
"Are you okay now Patricia?" (my eyes widened, he knew my name!) "I am Javier.  Disc Jockey and Nurse at your service." He said smiling.
I tried to recover fast, "I know who you are, you are quite famous" I tried to smile confidently.
"And so are you.  I know Erica, and I see you around town, meeting with our bar manager. We're in your client's list I suppose? I have never been lucky to meet you personally.  And here you are!" he said grinning.  
I suddenly realized as he spoke that his arm never left my waist and neither of us had moved from where we stood, in the middle of the noisy crowd. The smoke, the music, the dancing, people laughing, couples making out, my senses were all awake, heightened.  My spine shivered and I noticed my pussy pulsing. I can feel his taut muscles through my sheer blouse and his hugging black tee shirt. He moved his body closer and whispered, "Do you want to go somewhere quiet where we can talk?"
I managed to nod in agreement trying to keep my poise as his masculine scent was driving me insane.  His arms still around my waist, we weaved ourselves out of the party crowd; (our bodies touching we could feel each other's body parts.  I was getting very aroused and the alcohol made me want it more.  I was wearing a 3-inch heels boots and he stood around close to 6 feet.  I just needed to raise my head and I can lick his neck.  I stopped myself) we passed the poolside (ohh, some air) where there were more people, up a short flight of stairs, and into a balcony that opened into a the bedroom suite with glass panel doors.  We walked in, he held my hand as he shut close the glass panel doors, muffling the noise and music.  He looked back at me.
I nervously laughed and said, "Now that's quiet enough.  Look, I just really need to go to the little girls room."  I rushed inside, and checked myself in the mirror.  I thought I may have looked like an emo-goth creep, but not bad, I told myself. I took off my sweaty thongs and off to the waste bin it went.  The dresser was right in the center of the bathroom complete with the amenities so I helped myself; the tub was on the left and the glass shower enclave on the right. Between the dresser and the shower was the water closet.  
A few moments later I opened the door.   Javier was standing right at the door, his shirt already off and barefooted. (Hot tamale!  I must have stared too long! I tried to stifle a gasp, too late.) I was about to make a wise crack but he pulled me to him and kissed me on the lips.  I responded right back, I let him play my tongue and fenced with it,  rubbed my mound on his crotch that quickly responded back into a hard bulge.
He pushed me gently back into the bathroom as I walked backwards, his hands unbuttoning my shirt.  I stopped his hands and took the shirt off from my head and he quickly unfastened my bandau straps.  We were both half naked now, every part of me felt the tautness of his chest muscles.  We kissed once more, he kissed my ears, neck, between my breasts;  his hands busy on my breasts pinching my nipples. I pushed him away gently and sweetly asked, "I thought you wanted to talk?" He kissed me in the mouth and in between he said, "Talk later, Patricia, your skin is so soft and smooth." I was hearing loud moans and realized it was ours.  I grab at his jeans.  Button-fly jeans! I almost climaxed. I ripped it open and he was totally commando and a rather big headed, fully erect dick jumped out to greet me. He kicked his jeans away as it dropped to the tiled floor. He unzipped my skirt and as it dropped, he hoarsely said, "Keep your boots on!"
He moved forward and my back hit the dresser, he lifted me up and raised both my legs, went straight down to his buffet.  I was soaking wet, really wet, I heard sloshing sounds his mouth made as his tongues flicked my clit and his finger probed inside me. I held my balance with my hands and pushed my hips to his face. I cursed loudly as I came all over  his face.  I realized the bathroom door was open, it turned me on some more. He looked at me and I slide down and he walked to the water closet.  He placed the lid down, put a towel on it and I just dove directly to suck on his full lips hidden behind a thick, well-trimmed mustache. He held my head and he was saying, "Can you taste yourself Patricia? Sweet like cinnamon and vanilla." He raised my head to give me his tongue.  I sucked it, but he slowly put my face down on his cock. I couldn't get enough of licking his big head; his shaft had a good girth. I was sucking so noisily at it, I felt my pussy continually gushing.  I wanted it so bad, I rode his dick without warning. I let out a small squeal as despite my dripping, wet pussy, the head was so big it stretched me so much. Painful and pleasurable. He grabbed my butt cheeks, spread it, crossed his feet and rammed me, I was practically growling like a wild panther in heat when he drilled deep into me.  Then he pumped, hard and fast. I grabbed his shoulders and leaned back, my nails bored onto his skin, his mouth went for my nipples and sucked them.  I knew this was going to be a tidal wave, as my body convulsed and contracted to the different sensations. I felt every vein on his shaft engorged inside my walls then this big, orgasmic surge hit me. I howled and shook, his throbbing dick had also exploded, our warm body fluids flowed on our groins. We both came so hard our bodies were sweaty even my hair was all over my face.
We took a shower together and went for it again, in doggy style. I stopped counting how many times I climaxed.
I woke up hours later, totally butt naked under the sheets and in the arms of a very hot and sexy man. Javier had a smile on his face and a semi-erect dick. He stirred a bit when I moved so I placed his hand on my pussy. He responds quickly and said, "We'll talk later, I promise."
I cooed back, "Much later."
I knew Javier was going to be a nasty habit.



REMEMBER JAKE?
This was when we started. Ooops.  I have a post on this sometime April this year.
And it has been a wonderful ride from thereon.


JAKE THE SNAKE.
I call him Jake, the Snake for many different reasons.  Being a full endowment of manhood as first.  Second, for being totally wicked with his sexual skills and giving women like me, insurmountable pleasure.  Third, because he is sly and slimy, in terms of his aversion to commitment.  
Jake is called Anton in real life.   He and I share common bonds - unsure about commitment, love our bodies and flaunt it, love sex (all the time) and totally perverse as exhibitionism.  We both enjoy extreme PDA and with that said, we love to mess with people's heads in parties and crowds, when we feel like giving it a go.  We make our friends purr with excitement but we also know we make a lot of people queasy.  Our few common friends love to refer to us as the walking "sex time bomb"; we are likely to explode any minute, and may catch a couple of tight-ass wads, completely unaware.
We have tried almost anywhere that we could.  The sticky "cop" situation in his truck was the beginning of this wild ride.  We did manage to get out of that one, unscathed, as Anton's family is well-placed, both in wealth and politics.  Being with him is like being with Peter Pan.  He flies me to Never-land and I scream in ecstasy. However, it will take a very, very  patient woman to wait for Anton to ever grow up.  He will always be playing and flight is his favorite escape route.  The thing is, whenever he and I feel we start to crave for each other, we both automatically decide to wean ourselves out of it.  Are we both scared?  Probably, yes.  Are we crazy about each other?  More than we care enough to admit.
But let me tell you about the party his friend had in his flat sometime ago and how nasty we decided to play it.  Since I have been out with Anton, I have gone "au naturel," full commando.  Impatience is another thing we have in common.
We were getting a bit bored at the party, I busied myself helping out refill the food trays.  Anton comes up from behind me suddenly and squeezes my bare buns, then whispers airily into my ear; "Game Room babe."  His breath was so hot, I immediately went all"goosey" in the skin I almost dropped the food tray.  In a flash, I was at the Game Room.  (Of course I was wearing this ridiculously short skirt Anton calls a wide belt; with a loose cowl-neckline top that fell just enough in the front where it should. It drapes right about the same length as my skirt.)
Nestled at the center of the smoke-filled hazy room was a Pool table.  Several giddy couples were playing 9-balls miserably.  Music was playing, people drinking, talking and laughing, seated on stools, love seats or just milling around.  Must be a crowd of a little over 20 people.
Anton was seated in a sofa-style lounge with several men and a couple we've met several times; a good friend of the host.  
He sees me and motions me to sit on his lap, besides there was no space, and even if there was, I would have done the same.  As quickly as I did, he had inserted his right hand under me while his left arm wrapped around my waist to balance me.  I almost choked on the wine I was drinking when I felt his fingers probe my labias open.  He kept talking, his tone even, feigning innocence and I played on, tried my best not to squirm when his fingers found my clit and started rubbing it. I sat a bit sideways on Anton's lap as the man sitting in front of me was trying his best not to peek at my bare, bald nest. I almost blurted out, "yes dumbo, I have no panties on." 
I wasn't strong enough to feign nothing was going on when Anton poked his thumb into my soaked pussy, and kept his rubbing vigorously on my clit. I let out a moan, turned to grab his neck and kissed him torridly in the mouth, and as our lips and tongues fenced, I felt his body heat and bulged cock throbbing under me.  I started to move my hips with his fingers and with the fast rhythm, I stopped kissing, threw my head back and let out a good growl as I squirted cum all over his hand and his jeans. Then we kissed again and I murmured, "You want me bad baby, but that'll have to wait." 
As we stopped kissing, I turned to look back at the small crowd seated around us, the couple was busy necking (that didn't take long to encourage), the guys were pretending to chat but even in the dark I saw two of them swallowing really hard, and those bulging crotches aren't flash lights in their pockets. 
Anton slowly moved his hand out from under me and started licking his fingers. I looked at him and couldn't help laugh.  I stood up, pulled him up and tugging on him like a little boy, we walked steadily behind the bar. A couple of guys and girls were seated on stools, some were standing, drinking. The Bar was untended because it was self serve. Except for the lights on the pool table and pin lights below, it was pretty dark behind it.  Not bad at all. Without any preamble, since it was my turn this time, I quickly unbuckled Anton's belt and pulled down his jeans and went straight for my prize, his throbbing hard cock.  Anton tried to make stupid conversations with the crowd across the bar table and attempted mixing himself a drink.  That didn't work for a bit at all.


AN ALL-AMERICAN FLING
I suspect it may be some kind of competition among my girlfriends, especially the married ones.  They have taken themselves to task to find me a "mate" and they must have likely put up a bet to see who got the best guy for me.
That is how I met "Brett."  He is a graduate student from California doing his thesis on Sociology, social behavior and what have you. I think it was about his second week in the country when I met him through a lunch arranged by another American friend, Karen. Karen, you see, is married to a distant cousin of mine and they have chosen to take residence in the city instead of flying back to the U.S.  Brett and Karen are first cousins, both originally from Ohio, but both their families have moved to Los Angeles.
Brett is 26, at that time we met, (I was a little older).  He has pale yellow blonde hair, that was long and he kept neat by tying it up or with a bandanna. His eyes were light blue, is very tall, at 6'6", lean but muscular, with enough bulges where it matters.  When I saw him the first time, I thought I met up with the 21st century, very tall version of James Dean.  Karen and Diego hosted him in their place where he was to stay for around a month and a half or two. I was of course, appointed as the official local tour guide and since I spent most of my teen years somewhere in the US, my friends believed I was perfect for the role.  I didn't complain.  I also didn't like Brett's cockiness nor his sarcasm; oddly, I found him quite sexy in a unique way.  There was just something about him.
The first time Brett and I finally went out alone, without the usual crowd of firends and matchmakers, I discovered he was quite a charmer.  I found his brain and wit fascinating, moving him in my hot guy 10-point scale, from an original of 6.0 to an 8.5!  I could not help myself imagining him in bed.
Finally, he grew some balls and we spent a night together!  At first, he was so nervous and gawky, I was laughing all throughout, I thought I would lose my 'groove'. I think being a latina made him go a little 'loco' I had my way seducing him until his balls ached and the skin under his crotch were stretched to the maximum with his hard-on.  However, when we started having sex, we were non-stop!  We fucked like horny rabbits back from a vow of celibacy.  Brett was the type who would drive me crazy with oral pleasure, he would lick, flick, tongue-fuck and finger my g-spot till I screamed, then ram his dick inside me.  And just when I am about to climax again, he would go down and lick, flick and suck me, and my orgasms were running extended.  I would peak with oral, then he'll fuck me till I squirt.  Or I would peak with hard-fucking then he would go down. He was a nasty hard riding cowboy! Brett realized I love being on edge with my orgasms and he played it well.  I swear, he has the most unbelievably nimble, flexible, tenacious and long tongue, I wanted it permanently residing in my pussy. I came hardest when he ate me up like a chocolate mud pie!  Brett will also go down in my Beaver Diary for stamina. We would fuck for four hours and he would would cum at least six times. He only paused for a swig from a bottled water, then be all over me again.  He could match any woman's sexual energy! My sex fling with him left me with some mild abrasions on my v-walls, maybe from too much friction.  I love the mix of pleasure and pain in there.
On the day he was flying home, I was helping him with his packing, but we went "one for the road" when he suddenly nailed me on the wall of Karen's guest room.  We must have made so much noise like there was a UFC match going on. When I look back at the thought of Brett's vacation, we only started having sex on the last 2 or 3 weeks before he flew back.  However, we have probably "sexed-up" for lost time and paid forward for the next two years! Brett promised to be back as he says he is crazy about the Barcelona beaches.  Oh I bet he is.