Charlotte Harlot

Thursday, March 27, 2014

Confessions of a Southern slut, part 5

Posted By on Thu, Mar 27, 2014 at 3:49 PM

DJ used to work in my office but last summer took a job at another location. We had never spoken much - I was still with my ex at the time, and he was dating a crazy redheaded receptionist - but I'd noticed him. He was ex-military, from the Islands, and that's about all I knew of him.

He came by a couple weeks ago to meet up with the guys for wings after work. They all stopped by my office on their way out to see if I wanted to join them. DJ walked in, sat down directly across from my desk and stared at me starstruck, like he'd never seen me before. The others noticed and made fun of him for being so obvious. He took a business card off my desk and put it in his pocket, winked at me, and walked out.

I wasn't sure if I was interested or not, but a couple days later, he called me at work and we had a great conversation. We decided to meet up at my favorite sushi place for dinner. When I met him there, he looked great, and smelled even better. We planned to go for a walk and get ice cream after dinner, but he convinced me that we should stop by his place first. He had bought a house last year and was been remodeling it himself, and wanted to finally show it off to someone. I'm a sucker for a man who can use power tools with authority, so I agreed.

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Friday, February 21, 2014

Confessions of a Southern Slut, part 4

Posted By on Fri, Feb 21, 2014 at 2:36 PM

Ho. Ly. Shit. I still can't believe what happened last night actually happened last night. That shit in 50 Shades of Grey is no joke. I have the blood and vomit stains on my dress to prove it.

Don looked like your typical Charlotte tight ass. He wore a suit and tie, carried a handsome leather briefcase, and drove a shiny black BMW. He looked boring as fuck. When I asked Don to meet up for a drink after work, I had pure intentions. He's successful and I wanted to pick his brain about strategies for advancing in my field. I thought it might be fun to tease him a little, but up until that point we had not even flirted, so I didn't expect much.

We sat at the bar and ordered a couple drinks. We did start out talking about business. He had some valuable insights into the company and where it was headed. I wondered if I should go back to school to beef up my resume. He said I was better off to save that money and find ways to better showcase what I already know and do well. His career path was a bit unorthodox and he challenged me to think creatively about my path.

And then he asked me about my relationship, or lack there of. (Danger! Danger!) I told him that I was taking a break from relationships and pursuing pleasure instead. I was exploring hedonism. He calmly took off his suit coat, loosened his tie, and ordered another round.

Don was six months post break-up. He admitted that he sometimes gets lonely, but then confided that being single again has been wonderful because it allows him to indulge his fantasies. He decided that before getting into another relationship, he wanted to try anything and everything.

Don was getting more interesting by the minute...

He paid the bill and walked me to my car. He thought I was a bit too tipsy to drive and he invited me up to his condo across the street to sober up. How convenient. I took him up on the offer. I walked in and went straight to the wall of windows overlooking the city. I was trying to make out some landmarks when he walked up behind me, lifted up my dress, and slid down my panties. I turned around to kiss him but he put his hands on my shoulders and motioned me to my knees.

(He said later that he'd never kiss me because kissing is intimate and he didn't want me to catch feelings for him. Who is he? Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman?)

I sucked his cock as he leaned against the windows.

He wanted me to deep throat him but I told him I didn't know how. "Just relax" he said as he pushed his dick farther down my throat. I started to gag and apologized, but he told me he liked to see me gag. My willingness to succumb to him was hot, he told me. After I actually did gag down the front of my dress, I started to take it off and get more comfortable, but he told me not to. "Keep it on," he demanded. The messier I got, the more turned on he got.

Eventually, I needed to take a break. I laid back on the floor, splayed across his plush white rug, exhausted and exhilarated. It was dark except for the city lights shining through the windows. I saw him kneel down between my knees. I felt something press into my pussy. I assumed he was fucking me. He was, but not with his dick. He was fisting me, though I didn't know it at the time. It felt amazing to be so full of him. He was tender but brutal too.

"You're bleeding," he said. I sat up and could see a stain on the red rug. "Oh gosh, I'm sorry!" I was mortified. That rug probably cost what I make in a month! He smiled, maybe even laughed. I think he took that blood stain as a badge of honor. "I had my hand in you up to here!" he bragged as he pointed to his elbow.

I must have had a look of horror on my face because he quickly assured me, "Damn, that was hot!" I was pleased that he was so pleased. But I was also sore.

He brought me a glass of water and helped me gather up my things. As we walked to the elevator, I noticed he had a dozen or so tattoos. "That's hot!" I laughed. I told him I had always thought he was super boring, but now I know his dirty secret. "Why did you show me that side of you?" I asked him. "We work together, how do you know I'm not going to trash you?"

He shrugged his shoulders and said, "You looked like you needed it."

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Tuesday, January 21, 2014

Confessions of a Southern slut, part 3

Posted By on Tue, Jan 21, 2014 at 9:30 AM

I was whining to my friends about spending the holidays sans boyfriend, so they decided to cheer me up with a night at the club. Short skirts and high heels have a way of making a girl feel invincible. 2013 was a year of heartbreak and defeat. I needed to exorcise some demons.

I walked in and instantly locked eyes with the kind of guy who makes me swoon. (Yes, even sluts swoon.) He was 6'2" with dark skin and broad shoulders. He was smiling and dancing and he motioned for me to join him. I made my way toward him and when he put his hands on my hips, I felt shivers. He was electric. I know that sounds incredibly asinine, but it's true. I had planned to be strong that night, but after one song, he had me wet and wondering exactly how perfect his ass was.

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Thursday, December 26, 2013

Confessions of a Southern slut, part 2

Posted By on Thu, Dec 26, 2013 at 9:30 AM

Editor's note: This is the second part in an ongoing series written by CL's newest sex and love blogger, the Charlotte Harlot.

My high school boyfriend was a basketball wonder kid, so I have always had a fondness for athletes, basketball players in particular. I love to see a guy all sweaty after playing a hard-fought game. I lust after toned arms and chiseled chests.

The new guy at work is a former college basketball star. He is 6'4" and gorgeous from head to toe. Damn. Sometimes I follow him down the hall just to stare at his perfect ass. We flirt, but he's young and new and I really don't need the complication of messing with a guy at work. Who knows, he could have a bat-shit crazy girlfriend, or herpes, or he could be a complete asswipe. Still, I can't help imagining how great he looks naked. I really, really want to see him naked.

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Thursday, December 19, 2013

Confessions of a Southern slut, part 1

Posted By on Thu, Dec 19, 2013 at 4:33 PM

Editor's note: This is the first part in an ongoing series by CL's newest sex and love blogger, the Charlotte Harlot.

I admit it. I use sex to self-soothe. I broke up with my live-in boyfriend a while back and have been keeping myself busy by taking on a few lovers. I'm not looking to replace him. Hell, at this point I would swear off men completely if not for the fact that I love to fuck. Dildos and porn don't do it for me. I need a living, breathing man. I need someone to say my name, pull my hair and spank my ass. Thankfully, men are easy to come by.

Before this break-up I was a serial monogamist. Since high school, I have been in one relationship after another. It's nice to have someone to lay around with on Sunday afternoons, complain to about your lame job, and make you soup when you get a cold. But I am tired of traversing the relationship roadmap. They have all led to the same destination: heartache. I like men, but, apparently, I suck at relationships. So I'm taking a break and "doing me," as they say. I'm trying to get in shape, get my finances in order, and get used to being alone.

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