My Greatest Obsession

A Must-Read: "BBW: The Prose Of The Plump"

noreply@blogger.com (Rogue Erotica) — Mon, 06 Sep 2010 22:53:00 +0000

Recently, I wanted to tell a friend on Facebook that I had no interest in attending her "fight to end obesity" event because I think fat is beautiful. I tweeted about the desire, and one of my followers replied back with words of support for my position:

@eroticrogue how about joining the fight to end anorexia and exterminate all waif models? The line starts behind Me.
@eroticrogue My own view of female beauty http://www.literotica.com/stories/showstory.php?id=478553

Many other supportive replies are sure to follow, as I have many fellow followers who love the full figured form, but Master_Vyle's literotica entry rang so true for me that I knew in a second that he was a kindred spirit.

"BBW: The Prose Of The Plump" is not a piece of fiction. It's a call to action for Literotica to add a BBW category for stories. In the article, Master_Vyle makes a strong case for the addition of the BBW category. His most convincing point is that the BBW is the norm in the Western world, not the exception.

"Every single day I am surrounded by BBWs. They're either outright BBWs or BBWs by default due to the fact that there is a narrow margin as to what is considered to be just the right and desirable size. That old standard makes women with maybe just an extra pound or two have the perception that they are fat and everyone else, all the other "normal" people think they're fat."

He continues to provide examples of why in our Western culture that the BBW should be considered the norm. I found one statement particularly endearing, though, and one I could relate to:

The most passionate lovers I've ever had were all BBWs.

Sure, there were exceptions in my life. My wife was and still can be insanely passionate, and there was this one ultra-tiny woman who rocked me hard. Still, every single big girl I've ever been with has held true to Master_Vyle's statement. (There was one who was totally dispassionate, but that was due to the shitty way her boyfriend was treating her. Total different case.)

Master_Vyle has much more to say on the topic. You can read the whole article here.

Recent Divorcee Asks "What's so special about a BBW?"

noreply@blogger.com (Rogue Erotica) — Wed, 30 Jun 2010 22:47:00 +0000

A few weeks back, I ran across a Craigslist post that begged for my reply. A recent divorcee wanted to know why so many men seem to desire BBW, what they enjoy best about the full-figured woman. What follows is my email to her:

Hi,
I'm writing to share my experiences with BBW and how they rocked my world. Honestly, size has very little to do with the exhilarating experiences I've had with large women. It's so much more about how voracious and willing the woman is. A few thin women have exceeded my intensity quotas, but it seems like most BBW I've been with are consistently the horniest women with the greatest levels of stamina that I've ever encountered.

For me, the BBW aspect provides an encounter that cannot be matched by a thin woman in terms of bodily contact. When with a woman of considerable size, having all of her weight on top of me is a huge turn on. She typically will start off on top, burying me as deep as possible inside her. Then I have her lay down flat on me, pulling her legs on top of mine so that every last pound is on top of me.

Then there's the "climbing of the mountain." Laying the BBW flat on her belly and closing her legs, I mount her doggie style. Slowly, I climb up on her, driving my dick deeper and deeper. By the end, I'm so high up on her ass that my knees are tucked into my BBW lover's armpits. Between the ultra plushness of her ass and the extreme depth I manage to dive, the experience never fails to leave both myself and my plus-sized lover quaking all over. I have only once been with a thin girl who can handle this type of fucking.

One of my biggest fantasies has been to have some large lover ride my face to her completion, without regard for my comfort. My wife is thin and tried to ride my face, but it just didn't satisfy. I really want to feel as though the entire world disappears when my face-sitting lover settles down all her weight and my head gets half-buried in her warm womb.

So, those are just a few of the things I enjoy about being with BBW. Hope it helps in your future play.
Cheers,
Elton

The woman never replied back. :(

Ashley Williams Should Have Stayed Plump

noreply@blogger.com (Rogue Erotica) — Sat, 26 Dec 2009 21:02:00 +0000

I don't celebrate Christmas, I avoid watching ABC Family movies, and I don't typically lust after actors that don't star in porn.

Sure, some actors are too hot to deny their beauty. Still, I don't fantasize about them. Then I watched "Snow."

This movie was grade-A cheese, a revision on the classic Santa tale in which Nick Snowden (Santa Claus) travels through mirrors and discovers Sandy (played by Ashley Williams) while looking for his missing reindeer, Buddy.

The movie wasn't the greatest, but I was transfixed by Ashley Williams. I'd never seen her before. Her acting was subpar, pandering to the stock of her character. But Ashley herself? I couldn't get her off my mind. I even dreamt about her that night, which is highly unusual for me.

What was it that I liked? She was deliciously pneumatic.

The picture to the left was the closest image I could find for how Ashley looked circa "Snow."

This photo was most likely shot when she was first starting to transition into her slimmer self. Notice how she's wearing a shirt that hangs loosely over her biceps and a neck to cover the thickness of her neck.

What a divergence for ABC. They typically only cast rail thin actors. As I continued to watch the movie, I realized that ABC most likely cast her specifically for her plumpness. She was, after all, being set up to become Mrs. Claus.

Her face was nice and round, her cheeks full. Her neck was thick and her shoulders were broad in a way that only comes from packing some extra pounds. Her biceps, thighs, calves and even her fingers were nice and plump, too.

None of her build would be construed by most people as fat, but for ABC, she was a real chunky gal.

(Admittedly, it was Ashley's face that tied it altogether for me, though. I could hold her all night long. And to wake to look into her face when I wake every morning? Heaven. Pure heaven.)

Because I watched "Snow" on Hulu.com, "Snow 2: Brain Freeze" fired up directly afterward. My wife and I waited a couple days before we watched the sequel. When Ashley Williams made her first appearance, my heart broke.

Here was a trim woman, with a face that was suddenly devoid of its roundness, replaced with a thin longness. Her body was practically emaciated compared to her former look in "Snow." Here was a woman who moved to the North Pole, married Santa, and became Sandy Claus.

Why was I most disappointed? "Sandy Claus" should have gotten bigger, not thinner.

Sure, you could say that the image of a plump Mrs. Claus is just one of the expectations that the producers wanted to turn on its head. But, having lived in northern climes, I know for a fact that all people get chunkier throughout the winter. Call it the "hibernation glut."

Now, I'm not sure if the producers demanded she lose weight, or just worked with her despite her having lost weight since she did the original. Either way, I miss the original Sandy.

Support Plus-Positive Merchants Like Pyramid Collection

noreply@blogger.com (Rogue Erotica) — Thu, 27 Aug 2009 18:06:00 +0000

We've been getting a rather witchy and new-agey catalog for some years now. We love the items they sell, from clothing to chimes to decor to music. It had been some time since we received a Pyramid Collection catalog. Then just the other day, we got a new one.

They started doing something new that I'm excited to report:

"We Offer Goddess Sizes At No Extra Cost!"

For one, I'm excited by the way they refer to plus-sizes as "Goddess" sizes. This shows a deep reverence for the full-figured woman, putting them on a fitting pedestal.

For two, I'm glad that they offer the goddess sizes at no extra cost. Although you won't find a plus-size model in the catalog, you're sure to find many of the clothing items would look awesome on a big girl heading out to a Ren Faire or just wishing to look particularly alluring.

To visit this amazing merchant, visit pyramidcollection.com.

Tasha Starzz Turns Me On!

noreply@blogger.com (Rogue Erotica) — Tue, 14 Jul 2009 17:19:00 +0000

Okay, so I don't know anything about BBW model Tasha Starzz. It's just that when I saw her appear in my RSS Reader courtesy of BBW Hunter's photo feed on Flickr, I immediately thought, "I want a girlfriend who looks just like her."

She exemplifies the look I like in a BBW, her sultry brown eyes, her dark but streaked hair, her full lips, her soft curves with perfect proportions of ass pout and belly paunch, her thick legs... Oh, I don't need to go on. Just check her out.

You have to check out her full set.

Update - 12 August 2009: Woo hoo! Tasha found this post and commented below. I always get a little giddy when a beautiful woman like Ms. Starzz visits my blog posts and comments. For those on MySpace, you can find her here.

My First Sweet Big Ass Spy Photo

noreply@blogger.com (Rogue Erotica) — Wed, 17 Jun 2009 18:11:00 +0000

I follow a blog out of Brazil that doesn't update anymore, but it's continued to inspire me. Until a few days ago, I never possessed the courage to act on my inspiration. Finally, I had the perfect opportunity to snap a shot of one sweet big ass.

For three days, I was surrounding by a bounty of big-assed MILFs at Disneyland. As I walked behind this swaying bottom in front of me with my family and in-laws well behind me, I took aim and got my very first snap shot of the body part that I love best.

Petition to Add "Bodacious" to the Dictionary

noreply@blogger.com (Rogue Erotica) — Tue, 26 May 2009 17:52:00 +0000

The super-sexy BODacious model Desiree Devine recently tweeted a request for people to sign a petition to add "bodacious" to the Merriam-Webster dictionary.

The hope is to have M-W add the word "bodacious" to their dictionary "as a descriptive word for 'sexy fuller-figured person'."

If you love bodacious beauties and want to see the word added to the dictionary, please take a moment to sign the petition here.

And remember to spread the word. They only need a cool million signatures to qualify.

Another "I Love BBWs" Hits the Web

noreply@blogger.com (Rogue Erotica) — Sat, 02 May 2009 16:30:00 +0000

If you follow this blog or subscribe to it, you already know how much I Love BBWs. So much so that I have this blog to report on my obsession and another to post pics of sexy BBWs - I Love BBWs.

Thanks to Google Alerts, I learned that there's another "I Love BBWs" rolling 'round the internet.

However, the other ILBBWs takes a much different approach than this one: "Tell your stories sexually or not about BBWs."

In the blogger's first (and at this time, only) post, he shares a little about his love of BBWs and asks for others to share their tales of BBW love - sexual or not.

I assume he plans on reposting anything you share with him on his blog. If you are someone who shares a tremendous affection for BBWs, want to share your love somehow, but don't have a place on the web to share the love, consider submitting your stories at the other "I Love BBWs."

Stalk Me, Baby!

noreply@blogger.com (Rogue Erotica) — Tue, 24 Mar 2009 05:30:00 +0000

For Lady Valentina

His laughter causes the butterflies in her stomach to stir. "It's not really stalking if you ask for it, you know?" he types into the IM screen.

She giggles, unseen to him across cyberspace. "I know," she types, "But you can stalk me anytime you like."

This is the last they speak about stalking, but she cums to the thought of him making it happen so many times since.

Any time she is out at the club and catches sight of some man who slightly resembles him, she scopes the gent extra hard. She hooks up with a few of them, her gazes sparking an unrecognized desire within them. Always, though, she imagines the stranger as him, as her lover across the continent.

They chat online often. It surprises her how he encourages her sexual escapades The fantasy of finding him actually stalking her makes her more brazen with the fellows in the clubs. Imagining each of the men as him gives her the perfect Dumbo feather.

She never confesses to him that most of the men she hooks up with are nothing more than mere surrogates for him. He likes her promiscuity more than her sexual fidelity.

The night presses on, as she bumps and grinds an assortment of potential lovers. The club is packed as they make final call.

She scans the room, wondering who might couple with her. That's when she sees him, sitting in the corner, his gaze piercing the crowd. The sight of him floods her mind with unregistered images of him throughout the evening. He had been watching her all night, yet she had never noticed.

Suddenly, she feels someone slide their hand around her waist, joining in her rocking rhythm. She turns to see a past lover smiling. She smiles, turning to face this fellow as they dance. "What do you say?" the fellow says, "My place or yours."

She frowns at the line. "How easy do you think I am?" she says, turning to see the man on the other side of the club. But, he's gone.

She turns to the man who still has her by the waist. 'This guy was pretty good,' she remembers. "Maybe another night," she says, eyes darting about the club

The man's hand slides away as he watches her luscious curves rocking away, her head turning this way and that for someone other than him.

She doesn't know why she turned her back on the man who grabbed her. 'He was sooo good,' she thinks. Struck with some guilt over the rejection, she turns and sees he hasn't let it bring him down, as he couples up with another, more drunken girl. Her libido sinks a bit, kicking her ass for letting a sure thing slip past.

Then she sees him, there to the left of the rejected lover. He's looking right at her. Her heart leaps. He matches the description of her online crush, but so have many others over the past few months. This could just be some guy who thinks she's hot - some shy, shy guy who can't find the courage to approach her.

She licks her lips, then turns her body, letting the thrill of the flirt amp her. Her hands thrown in the air, she shakes her ass at him. 'C'mon,' she thinks, 'Come and get me, luscious man.'

She remembers watching him now, remembers him drunk-manning his way through the songs. His hair, long and curly, white strands streaking across his temple. Sexy man, but so reserved. She lets her hands slide down her breasts, wanting them to be his, if only because it would be so easy to imagine him as the man of her desires..

She tilts her head up and to the left, causing her hair to fall to the side and exposing her neck. That's when she feels it, the brush of a bulging crotch across her ass. 'Let it be him,' she thinks as she backs into the bulge not daring enough to look behind her.

She grinds into him, thinking he's definitely a boxer kind of guy from the lack of resistance his bulge meets. They are connected there, his groin curved and formed into the curve of her backside.

He doesn't touch her in any other way. Just rocks to her rhythm.

She wants his hands all over her, whoever he may be. She reaches back and finds that his hands are right there, hovering over her waist.

Their fingers lock as she engulfs herself with his arms. His body moves in, filling the gap of her back and he squeezes her tight.

He's tall but not towering, his arms strong but not muscular. The dance floor opens up for them as the club empties. A scene taken from one of those sappy romantic comedies that end in a high school prom. Leaving them as the sole partners dancing.

He nuzzles his head in her neck when the bouncer tells them to get a room. "Sounds like a good idea," she says, leading him away by the hand.

"You really are a liberated woman," he says, "Aren't you?" She blushes and whispers, "Not that liberated."

As they move to the end of the building, he jerks her by the arm and pushes her back into the building, pinning her hands above her head. He stares her deep in the eyes. She wants to say something smart, but only manages to let her lips tremble and open slightly.

His head moves in slowly, a magnet that yanks her face forward. Their lips lock, a spectacle of greedy consumption. Their hands are everywhere, her hands making their way beneath his shirt to feel his flesh. His arms curl up behind her clutching her neck Her hair tangles between his gripping fingers, holding her head in a lovelock. Her hands dive down his pants and knead his cheeks.

"I thought I told you two to get a room!" jerks them from their lock, sending them giggling down the walk in haste.

As they turn the corner, they stop and square off, holding both hands. The question rests on their lips, neither capable of voicing it. At once, they both blurt out the question, stumbling over their tumbling tummies. Finally, he manages to suggest they return to his room.

She leads him to her car, stopping to fondle each other, then pulling away with a terse comment about how they're never going to make it if they don't stop. On the way to his hotel, he has to sit on his hands after molesting her and making her swerve and narrowly avoid hitting a parked car.

To divert his mind, she asks, "So you don't live here? What brings you to this city?"

He smiles and says, "A beautiful woman."

She feels a heat rise and flush her face scarlet red. 'Could it be me? Could this be the guy?' She shakes it off, thinking it too unlikely that he travel across the country and arrive unannounced, unplanned.

They burst through the hotel entrance and twirl through the lobby, like some multi-limbed whirling dervish, crashing into doors as they make-out while in motion. The pulse of the club beats still rings in her ears, and his kisses seem to match their rhythm.

They find his door and he pumps her into the door with his hips, sex already poring from his loins. His hand fumbles for his wallet. A difficult task with her hungry hands already stripping his pants, pulling them down over his waist. He manages to pull his wallet free before his pants crumple around his ankles.

"You are eager, aren't you?"he says with a wicked grin

Before he can get the keycard in its slot, she has his aching cock in one hand and his balls in the other, stroking them both. She massages the long string of pre-cum drizzling from his cock back into his shaft.

A man down two doors down pokes his head out ready to scold them, but gasping at the sight of their impropriety, slams his door shut.

He has to kick the door shut as she drags him over to the bed. Her one-piece is now pulled up over her hips, exposing her pantiless treasures. He's known few women who are this randy, this hot, this ready to fuck. The glistening between her legs draws him forward.

Her fingers are twitching as he approaches, reaching out to grab him, to pull him right inside her. He swoops in, scooping both her thighs in the crooks of his elbows, pinning her ankles back up toward her breasts. They both gasp as he instantly bottoms out inside her. No resistance. No hesitation. Just two become one, their hips bucking together.

He thinks for a second to pull out, to start to pump her puss. But she locks him in, keeps him buried to the hilt, a tear forming in her eye. She is so wide, so wet, yet he feels every bit of her as he continues nudging his cock deeper and deeper, consuming her mouth as he does so.

Her lips tremble and he can feel her insides clamping down, then quaking. Her moans turn to a deep groan, vibrating down into his throat. Her body relaxes, her hand hold loosens, and she looks at him with the eyes of a young child on Christmas morning.

He smiles then reattempts to pump away at her puddy-like body, her immense wetness driving him to ever-greater speed.

This time, she wants it, wants the full intensity. "Fuck me like you want to break me, baby!" she screams. And that's exactly what he does, flipping her this way and that, stripping her to nothing, fucking her until she runs out of her juices.

Then he does something she'll never forget. His hands move from their handle grip on her hips around to slide under the lowest fold of her belly. The motion triggers something amazing, hitting some incredible new erogenous zone that has her cumming so hard she drenches his dick.

The sensation of his hand in a spot so often neglected illuminates the possibilities of her love-hate relationship with her belly. Not only does it turn her on, but it also turns him on.

His cock instantly gets harder than it has been the whole night. He feels like a teenage boy getting to touch "boobies" for the very first time. The sensation overwhelms him.

She feels his balls stop slapping against her clit, as they go taut, shortening up. She knows what's coming, that he's about to cum. She reaches over her head, grabs his hair and pulls his mouth up to her ear, soaking up each labored breath, waiting and relishing.

Then it is there, a bullhorn of bassy grunts in her ear, sending delightful shivers screaming across her skin.

His grip on her belly loosens as his balls yo-yo against her labia until they come to rest, the last spasm jet of his seed loosed. They collapse to the sheets, still entangled. He turns to her and says, "You know, it still doesn't qualify as stalking if you ask for it."

This post was written as a series of tweets, then edited and revised only minimally. I call this form of writing tweeterotica. Want to follow me on Twitter?

10 Things I Love (brought to you by the letter L)

noreply@blogger.com (Rogue Erotica) — Sat, 24 Jan 2009 06:16:00 +0000

While recently reading one of the many blogs I follow, I saw they posted a fun game. It's come through a whole string of other blogs, but I can't share them with you for privacy reasons.

Here's how it works:
Leave a comment below to request a letter, and then I’ll assign you one. (If you comment as "anonymous," you will need to check back for your letter.) Once you have your letter, write about ten things you love that begin with your assigned letter and post on your blog. When people comment on your list, you give them a letter, and the chain continues on and on.

My private blogger friend assigned me the letter L. And away we go...

1. Libido - With such an overactive one of my own, I can't imagine life without a libido. I feel for those who have almost none.

2. Large Ladies - Curves! I love them. Few experiences trump the perfect way BBWs fit my frame, fill my need for excess, fuel my libido.

3. Lack of Inhibitions - when it comes to sexuality, that is. Conflicted lovers are the most frustrating of all. Lovers who aren't afraid to let it all go are the best!

4. Love - Without it, where would we be now... or so the song goes. I admit that I'm a bit of a love-junkie, deeply desiring for my lovers to sheepishly admit that they've fallen for me. Despite my love for love, though, the absence of it doesn't typically hinder my enjoyment of passionate encounters.

5. Lust - Without it, where would we be now? Wait, I just said that, but let's face it; Lust is often a gateway to love. Plus, lust just hits so much more intensely in the beginning.

6. Lube - Eros Aqua and Pantene Pro-V are my favorites, and both are crucial to my enjoyment and endurance. Without lube, I chafe far too easily.

7. Liz - It only takes a glimpse of my top fantasy girl to keep me hooked on her for weeks. After exploring my obsession with her, I discovered that she is the amalgamation of so many girls I've lusted after or been with that have different variations of the name Elizabeth - Lizzy, Beth, Bettie...

8. Lolitas - The style, not the real thing. I especially love it when a mature woman dresses in a school girl uniform with striped tights and has her hair in high-riding pigtails. Think Suicide Girls in 10-20 years.

9. Lifestyles - Not those of the rich and famous (I could care less). I'm talking about all the different communities that form around some sexual practice, fetish or "debauched" way of life. Think swinging, cuckoldry, BDSM...

10. Labia - Whether tightly tucked inside or flapping in the wind, I love the way a woman's lower lips feel hugging my pumping penis.

That WAS fun! I even came up with a few more, but will refrain from sharing ;)

Want to play, too? Leave a comment below to request a letter!

BBW Lovers on Twitter

noreply@blogger.com (Rogue Erotica) — Tue, 28 Oct 2008 21:53:00 +0000

BBW Lovers on Twitter
Do you Twitter? Are you a BBW lover? Looking for someone in your area who loves BBWs? Welcome BBWTweeters.com!

This newest site allows you to list your Twitter account by state, as well as to list and find BBW events. I've added my account; will you add yours?

Follow me on Twitter.

If Only She'd Gain Some Weight

noreply@blogger.com (Rogue Erotica) — Sat, 25 Oct 2008 18:42:00 +0000

"She'd be gorgeous if she lost some weight." Whether you've heard someone say this or said it yourself, this sentiment is repeated often. But not by me. No, I'm the opposite. My version is, "She'd be even better looking if she let go and put on some weight."

In this day of wasting supermodels and rampant crash-dieting, I think more people should be repeating my sentiment. After all, look how many women agonize over gaining 5 pounds, agonize over their hips getting a little wider, agonize over their slowly sprawling ass or thickening arms and legs. It's very sad that the model of health these days is based on skin-and-bones. (I do, however, hold high expectations of this trend reversing within the next few years though - Welcome back, voluptuous!)

Lately, I can't shake this one woman from my mind. Well, actually, she's a fresh 18. I don't want to think of her, but she persists mostly because her libido's on-fire right now. I've known her since she was 14. She always dressed super-slutty. I often wondered how her single father allowed her to wear such scanty attire. Yet that lack of fabric made it easy for me to make out her body type. She was dumpy until she hit 17, with a mild paunch, thick thighs and chubby fingers. Then she decided to start working out and dieting.

Nowadays, I look at her and get hard. She drips sex, in the way she does her hair, in the way she does her fingernails, in the way she dresses, in the way she adds sexy tattoo after sexy tattoo. I don't want to be turned on by her. She's too young, she's too closely tied to our family, she's too thin. Yet, she keeps calling me to her.

It doesn't help that my wife likes to throw out her name when I tell her to name the person she would most like to see me fuck when we're having sex. It doesn't help that my wife likes to say that this girl reminds her of herself when she was first swinging. It doesn't help that she drips sex.

I dreamt about her all night last night. I rolled around in bed for an hour after waking, rock solid and desperate for her sex. All the while, though, I focus on her chubby fingers. I focus on her non-protruding ankles, anything to give me cause to think of her as fat.

In my morning fantasies, I saw her letting loose, falling for me as her primary lover, recognizing my love of the big girl. Pounds start to pack and she gains 20 in the first 3 months. She thanks me every morning for helping her realize she doesn't need to live with the agony of weight loss any longer. She looks at herself in the mirror and says, "I am even better looking with some more weight."

Note: I'm desperately trying not to let this girl become the next Liz.

Poll Results - How big do you prefer your women?

noreply@blogger.com (Rogue Erotica) — Sat, 18 Oct 2008 16:57:00 +0000

Over a year ago, I added a poll to the sidebar and received exactly 100 votes. Needless to say, this made figuring out the percentages a piece of cake. Here are the results:

How big do you prefer your women?

10-20 lbs overweight - 9 (9%)
20-40 lbs overweight - 26 (26%)
40-60 lbs overweight - 17 (17%)
60-80 lbs overweight - 8 (8%)
80-100 lbs overweight - 7 (7%)
The bigger the better - 33 (33%)

Click on image for larger view.

As you can see, the poll shows that a solid 1/3 of all My Greatest Obsession readers carry the sentiment that when it comes to weight, "The bigger the better." But if we clump together the 2nd and 3rd place responses, it would seem that more of my readers prefer their women on the plump side, from 20-60 pounds overweight.

Thanks to all who cast their vote in the poll. I will figure out an all-new poll to post. If you have a poll you would like to see posted, feel free to let me know.

Annette Schwarz Invades My Gut

noreply@blogger.com (Rogue Erotica) — Tue, 14 Oct 2008 19:30:00 +0000

Okay, so even though she likes to point out that she has a big butt (It's really on the small end of big, baby!), Annette Schwarz doesn't have the type of body that normally inspires me so deeply. She's not a big girl at all. In fact, she has what many men would consider a perfect body.

Blond, tall, shapely - Annette Schwarz embodies all the physical attributes of mainstream pornstars. Yet, she's soooo not mainstream. She is possibly the filthiest slut in porn, and I mean that as only the highest of compliments. Annette likes to push fetishes to the extreme. Can you say, "Yeah, piss in my eye baby!"

If you've read most of my obsession blog posts, you know that Annette Schwarz, look-wise, is the polar opposite of what I fantasize about. But, something draws me to her. Perhaps it's her sheer authenticity, as exemplified often in her blog posts. Perhaps it's because not only does she admit she's a slut, but that she relishes it. Perhaps, it's because when I see her in candid shots, she looks like such a non-naughty person - deep, respectful, sultry - no trace of smuttiness.

Annette Schwarz has a face for the big screen, as far as I'm concerned. I imagine her working in the movies and in porn simultaneously, not pulling the "I'm so ashamed I was ever in porn. I just want a normal acting career and to leave my sordid past behind me."

Whatever the cause, I woke up this morning with a deep, gut-wrenching need to be with her in person. I obsessed over her all morning, and now that it's afternoon, I can't handle it anymore. I have to write about her, about the way she's twisting my gut with sweet lust. But, actually, is it lust?

You see, I have a difficult time cumming to Annette. Despite the fact she gets me rock hard, I just can't seem to bust to her. With exception to my wife, I find that if I lean more toward a heart-connection that it's difficult for me to masturbate to completion to the person I'm imagining. Do I have feelings for Annette? It's ironic that someone who inspires such extreme sexual fantasies in me would wind up on the short end of the stick when it comes to receiving my ejaculatory tributes.

I admit that I have never before experienced such deep emotions for someone I actually don't know in person. This is a bit like getting all wound up over a major movie star. I had a fantasy that returned multiple times this morning:

Annette and I walk into a social event in my town, hand-in-hand. Some people look at us with that "Damn that's one lucky dude" look. But some look disgusted. At first, I assume it's because I'm married and those people don't approve of me being with another woman. Then one of them comes up to me and pulls me aside.

"Do you realize she's a filthy pornstar, and I don't mean that she's filthy because she's a pornstar, either. She's filthy, dirty!"

I look at the person with floating eyes and a blissful smile and say, "I know, isn't she great?" Then I walk over to her and pull her tight into my arms and kiss her deeply in front of all the staring eyes.

Then I return to reality and am left with some extra knots in my stomach and the desire to see if I can cum to her. Whatever happens, I need to purge this obsession that's surfaced. I can't think of anyone but Annette Schwarz, and it actually makes me feel good about myself.

Thanks for being a constant muse, you beautiful slutty woman!

Note: Unless I can curb this obsession with Annette Schwarz, you can expect a few more related posts.

100 Sexual Things about Me - The First 10 Years

noreply@blogger.com (Rogue Erotica) — Tue, 30 Sep 2008 07:10:00 +0000

I lost my virginity at the age of 16
I was drunk from drinking sloe screws,
When the blond prostitute popped my cherry.
My friend called the two call girls,
And he gave me the choice between black or white.
I chose white,
Because I was too afraid to admit I wanted black.
My friend took the white whore into the bathroom to pay her.
I chatted with the black beauty while we waited,
And I wished I would have picked her.
The blond call girl was the first to suck my dick.
She got me hard,
Then she started the process of suiting me up.
She asked me if I would rather her put it on with her hand or mouth.
I chose hand.
I wish I would have chosen mouth.
We fucked for the full hour.
We kept switching positions,
Missionary, to her on top, to 69, back to missionary.
She warned me that she rarely came with her clients.
She came three times.
At the end of an hour, she offered to finish me off.
I told her that I would tell my friend I came.
I wished I had chosen black.
The next day at work, my coworkers all repeated "Black or white, mouth or hand."
After I graduated high school, I learned that at least 5 girls I wanted wanted me too.
I married one of those girls who had told me about her desire while we were classmates.
Before we consummated, I hooked up with my best friend's ex-girlfriend.
I fucked her bareback.
I came inside of her without asking.
She got excited when I came, stroking my back and ass and pulling me in tight.
She said, "You just came inside me without a condom."
I said, "I know."
She squealed with joy and made out with me while I continued to let the last of my load drain into her pussy.
The first time she missed her period, she asked if I really had money saved for an abortion.
I didn't.
I wanted her to have my baby.
We broke up shortly after.
She had never formally committed to me, so she didn't consider it a break up.
I left the state to go to college and to escape all the judging eyes of my friends.
I also hoped to get a hot college girlfriend.
The school had a higher guy to girl ratio.
In the second semester, a girl stalked me.
I conceded to a date.
She made all the first moves.
We had sex on our second date.
I hated her Oklahoma accent and the way she served me hand and foot.
She had acute asthma and a busted up leg.
Twice, I didn't stop when my condom bust.
I came inside her both times.
I used her for sex,
Until I asked my friend Sheila for advice.
I chose to let her go,
And I told her it wasn't her, it was me.
She was desperate to keep me.
I suddenly knew how my last "girlfriend" had felt in regards to my non-mutual feelings toward her.
I turned off all caring and tried to play the dog.
I just came off looking like a dipshit.
I returned home at the end of the school year.
I tried to date my sister's best friend, but it didn't work.
She was ready to fuck at the drop of a hat.
I didn't bite.
My sister's long-lost friend came to live with us for the summer.
Fairies and golden light surrounded the friend when I first saw her.
My sister said, "No one would have sex with my brother."
Within 5 hours, my dick was inside the friend.
I penetrated her bareback, without asking.
The only thing she said was, "Just make sure you pull out."
It all started with some spooning.
The position was a repeat of the last time we saw each other 3 years prior.
Masturbating to the "what-if" of that night 3 years prior was a sure cum for years.
As I fucked her, she told me to stop teasing her.
I was slow fucking her the way my priors had preferred.
She wanted it hard and fast.
I was in love with those three words "stop teasing me."
I didn't commit to her for 5 more months.
During those five months, she fucked two others and I made out and fingered one other.
I tried to get my sister's best friend to sleep with me while I was fucking my future wife.
At first, they both wanted it.
Then the friend spontaneously gave me a blowjob, stopped mid-stream and ran away.
Turmoil about the indiscretion ensued and launched us into our permanent relationship.
My theme song at the time was Pink Floyd's "Young Lust"
"Oooooh, I need a dirty woman."
I married a dirty woman.
My friends' friends kept trying to have sex with her.
We left the state to escape the humdrum.
We started on a wholesome backpacking trip and ended up in Sin City.
We got hitched in a Vegas wedding chapel.
We consummated our marriage in a small, seedy motel with mirror all around our bed.
We moved somewhere more wholesome in Oregon.
I fell in love with my wife's first adult female friend.
She sucked my cock once and let me pet her shaved kitty twice.
She told me wife about my pressing for sex.
My wife kicked the friend out of our life and hated me for a year.
Years later, I wrote the friend love letters when she was in rehab.
My wife and I made our second and final child during a grudge fuck,
Even though it was completely planned.
The best midnight sex we ever had was while she was pregnant after our second,
And after we had watched a Woody Allen movie.
Around the time of this hot pregnant sex, I got hooked on gangbang porn.

Coming Soon... The Second 10 Years

This post was inspired by a similar post by a sex blogger I can't remember right off hand. After "The Next Ten Years," I'll have a link to the original post that inspired it all for me.

Liz Refuses to Give Me Up

noreply@blogger.com (Rogue Erotica) — Sun, 03 Aug 2008 16:50:00 +0000

Sometimes, an obsession seems just a touch unhealthy. Lately, I'm almost scared how much I obsess over Liz.

If you've followed my Liz obsession for awhile, you know that I recently took a chance and posted a message on the Missed Connections section of my area's Craigslist. I was actually scared when she contacted me about it. She said she was flattered and wanted to know who her admirer is.

I wrote her back, telling her I'm too shy to step up and reveal my identity. I asked her to reply back with a name of someone who matched my age and location that she wouldn't mind having a crush on her. She sent a name, but it wasn't mine. So, I sent her another clue: "long curly hair." I haven't heard from her since.

The first few days of silence had me freaked out. I hadn't, after all, told my wife I posted this message to Craigslist, or that Liz had actually replied. She knows all about my Liz obsession. It is the possible drama that might ensue that I feared. You could actually say my wife is responsible for starting my Liz obsession, though.

Back when Liz was still a teen, my wife and I were roleplaying younger girl sex. I told her to shout out the name of the girl she would like me to be inside of... "Liz"! Then, throughout the years, she would spontaneously tell me to "cum in Liz." So, I definitely owe my wife for sparking my obsession.

Anytime I envision Liz, even for a second, she gets me super-stiff and makes me cum hard and fast. She's been my sure or quick cum for years now. I've never had a bad cum when I envision Liz. More on this in a moment. Back to Liz's silence...

I still check my email at least once a day in the hopes that I'll receive some response from Liz. My main worry is that my last clue left no doubt as to my identity.

If she has guessed who I am, I am hoping that she hasn't replied because...

she doesn't know that I'm in an open marriage.
she does know I'm in an open marriage, but the whole concept freaks her out or she doesn't trust that it works.
she might not want to let me know she knows it's me because she doesn't want to wreck a home.

Any of these would work well enough for me.

My biggest fear, though, is that she knows exactly who her secret admirer is... and she doesn't dig me at all.

My greatest hope is that she just hasn't figured out who I am. I dream that she runs into me around town one day, and a light goes on in her eyes the second she lays eyes on me. We're both traveling solo, so she asks me somewhat shyly if I know about Craigslist. When I confirm it, she tells me about how some guy posted that she is his fantasy girl.

"You wouldn't know anything about that would you?" she says twisting a foot and looking at me from under her brows. I play coy just long enough for her to know without a doubt that I am the secret admirer.

We find a bench and talk for over an hour about my wife and my arrangement. She has all sorts of questions for me, obviously interested in the prospect. My cock goes between hard and soft, leaving me with a pretty steady flow of pre-cum drizzle. She keeps moving closer, our feet touching first, then our legs brushing...

You get where it goes from there, the fairy tale ending and all that. That's the optimist in me trying to assert itself. Or maybe it's just some good-old wishful thinking at work.

Realistically, though, I'm pretty sure she knows exactly who I am and hasn't guessed my name because she doesn't want me to want her. This is actually fueling a recent re-imagined relationship with Liz.

After a few days passed without another word from Liz, I started to feel guilty... no, creepy, like a predator. I hate this feeling. In fact, I purposely don't imagine having sex with at least two different past lovers as a way of respecting them. My response was to push Liz out of my fantasies. It was no surprise that I shifted to cuckold fantasies. After all, one of its keystones is denial.

Despite going a couple weeks in a Liz-free world, though, she came back to me the other day. She asserted herself in a way that was impossible to deny. My latest Liz fantasy is based on cock ownership. She popped back into my head and made me instantly rock solid. I tried to push her out, but she chased all the other women away and said, "No you don't. I own your cock. When you jerk off, when you fuck your wife, you WILL think of me and how you will never have me."

So far, that's been the case. I try to think of anyone else, but there's Liz. My cock always goes from hard to bursting solid when she appears. I cum quick and I cum hard. The other night when I got some quick sex with my wife, I came in under four minutes after having repeated the line in my head, "Liz owns my dick. My cock belongs to Liz." I tried to shift the fantasy, but every time, Liz would reappear to remind me.

Now, I'm left wondering why I have this hopeless obsession. I will never get to be with Liz, yet she controls my fantasy world, makes me cum harder than any other (with random exceptions). Typically, such positive and intense cums mean that I'm sure to get with the object of my fantasy. Yet, there's Liz, silently distant once I stepped forward.

Now, I fantasize over the unobtainable, committed to someone who doesn't want to be the recipient of my deepest lust. Maybe one morning, I will wake with a whole new fantasy girl. Until then, Liz owns my cock — for better or worse.

To read about all related obsessive ramblings, click "Liz."

An Update to Liz & Craigslist

noreply@blogger.com (Rogue Erotica) — Thu, 17 Jul 2008 20:50:00 +0000

I did it! I replied to Liz's reply to my Craigslist posting declaring her my fantasy girl. I didn't completely out myself, but I at least replied with clues as to my identity. We'll see how she responds to my email.

Join the All-New "I Love BBWs" Social Network

noreply@blogger.com (Rogue Erotica) — Thu, 17 Jul 2008 18:11:00 +0000

I just created a social network for the "I Love BBWs" community. It's just getting started, but it should be fun.

What can you do at at I Love BBWs — The Social Network?

Meet other BBW lovers
Chat in the forums
Add photos & videos
Start niche groups

You know, like MySpace or Facebook, but for those who appreciate the full-figured woman. Feel free to make suggestions on how to improve the network.

Want to check out I Love BBWs — The Social Network?

Note: I used the ever-popular Ning.com to create this network, so if you already have a Ning ID, you're pretty much set to join. If you don't have a Ning ID, you'll want one as hot new Ning sites pop up ever day.

My Liz Obsession — Do I Write Her Back?

noreply@blogger.com (Rogue Erotica) — Thu, 17 Jul 2008 04:25:00 +0000

Here's something I need to sleep on. I need to decide whether or not to respond to a reply to something I posted on Craigslist.

In the post, I declared my fantasy girl. Yep, I sent those words out to the most local of all websites. I posted with no real hope that Liz would read them. I just needed to get it out there. Then she contacted me. I actually got two replies, Liz and another person telling me there was too much of an age gap for it to work. After receiving a second reply wanting to know which Liz, I freaked out a bit.

I resolved to edit my post to reflect that I'm just declaring her my fantasy girl. I said I held no real hope of actually hooking up. I also removed my age, which got me thinking about my true intentions in posting the declaration in the first place. I guess, I really did want her to somehow see it and contact me. And if not her, one of her friends lets her know about the ad. And, that's exactly what happened!

Now, here I sit and stare at her letter. She says she's curious and flattered. She even named her work, which verified that this was indeed the true Liz - or, at least, someone who knows which Liz I'm talking about.

I don't know if I'm crippling myself here, afraid to step out and grab a dream girl. I know that she would be into me. She's cum onto me enough times, subtle but obvious cum-ons. Yet, I can't shake my hesitation. My biggest concern is that this is not Liz writing me, that I'm being set up. Then I wonder why I'm being so paranoid. Here is your dream girl asking you to step up and identify yourself.

But, I can't stop thinking about the oddity of her email address. It sounds like the name of a business. I looked up the name, and sure enough, it exists in the valley I live in. So, this leads me to think this is not her, or at least, she's using a shared email address. No security in that. I'm a Scorpio though, and that means I'm really slow to trust. Had she had a cutsie or clever addy, I would probably be a little quicker to answer. Something makes me think it might be a set up, though. As a Scorpio, I should trust my intuition.

But, what if it really is Liz? What if I reveal myself and she replies with "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" What if this is all it takes to get us together finally. After all, if the Law of Attraction works, then all the sexual visualization of her I've generated lately might be responsible. Yeah, this is my euphemistic way of saying that I've jerk off to her 3 out of every 4 times.

Always clear, usually nothing convoluted, just good old fucking. I feel her when I imagine her. I see her in my arms and taste her on my lips. She is there, keeping stiff like no other these days. I have even set the quiet goal for number of cums to her this summer. She's always, always good for an intense cum.

Then I got those two emails and all of a sudden, I'm not able to imagine her when I start to wank it. Scratch that - I actually can visualize her, but I feel creepy doing it. I hate feeling like a creep. It's my life-long aversion to rejection. It hits me a little harder than most, especially when someone I really, really, really want is the one rejection me. Plus, with Liz, I stand to incur a mighty wrath if she thinks that my creepy obsession with her needs to be broadcast to those who would make my life difficult.

Somehow, I don't think I have anything to fear. After writing about it for awhile, I feel a sense of calm. It's as though this is the start of a dream cum true. I've written about the tell-all cum, the one that is almost always a sign that I am to be with a woman. If I cum hard on mulitple occasions, we eventually hook-up.

As for the email... it will sit for a day or two. I'll also watch the missed connections to see if she asks me to write her. Yeah, stupid me. I know. I'm just such a coward. In the meantime, I try to regain my composure before I go to stroke to her again.

If you've read this far, thanks! This post was really more of a therapy session. I'll analyze it a couple years down the road.

Sneaky Quickies

noreply@blogger.com (Rogue Erotica) — Sat, 28 Jun 2008 04:47:00 +0000

Sneaky Quickies rank high on my list of fantasies, especially when they take place in a public setting. Then there's sex at work. I ran across a video featuring a cutie getting screwed at her desk. I assume it's in an office based on the clothes she and her lover are wearing. And the phone ringing in the background is a pretty good indication, too.

I've watched this video over and over, mainly because of its authenticity. This girl is faking robust orgasms. She's naughty because of her actions, but she's not exactly a naughty girl. There's no pretense with motel69star. She is definitely the real deal, the girlfriend pretty easily talked into bending over in the office.

I like the Sneaky Quickie. I've had my fair share of tucks back behind the alley. There's something about pounding quick and hard while restraining our love noises. The thrill of knowing that only having five minutes is stretching the actual amount of time you have before someone walks in on you. That's a thrill.

Because I am a parent, Sneaky Quickies are sometimes the greatest gift to myself. I just wish I had more of them. When it happens, my wife and I usually use the laundry room.

How about you?

Do you ever sneak away for quick pokes with your special someone(s)?
Where's your usual spot?
What is your most memorable Sneaky Quickie location?

Heaven Is 2 Japanese BBW

noreply@blogger.com (Rogue Erotica) — Wed, 25 Jun 2008 07:01:00 +0000

Liz & Angela — A Likely Blend

noreply@blogger.com (Rogue Erotica) — Sun, 22 Jun 2008 17:04:00 +0000

The picture for this post may confuse some of you who have come to expect lots of BBW love. The girl is scrawny beyond belief. But I can't help it; I'm obsessed with this girl. Why?

She's a likely blend of two women I obsess over frequently — my sister-in-law Angela and former babysitter Liz.

The naturally super-slim figure is 100% Angela, but the face and hair is an almost exact duplicate of Liz. Although I would prefer to sway toward Liz's thicker frame, it's her face I favor most of all. The dark hair, the terrific smile, those brown eyes. I would be willing to trade the body for her face, any day.

I do like this girl's lack of boobs, though. Many assume that just because many-to-most BBWs have large breasts that those are the main appeal for me. That's not the case, though. The main thing I would change about Liz is to reduce her full-size D's to a B and transfer some of that weight to her ass. Angela, although being a tiny 4' 9", has an ass that won't quit.

I know that I talk about loving the BBW figure quite often, but there's something about a tiny slut. You can manhandle them completely and do your best to literally tear her in half. Angela is just such a slut, one who actually brags about being capable of taking the biggest dick with ease. She is known for exaggerated bragging, though, so a huge part of me wants fuck her more as a way of putting her to the test than out of sexual attraction.

Liz is known for a quiet sluttiness. She doesn't brag about her exploits, but according to credible sources, she notoriously ends up fucking a different guy every time she goes out partying. The best part is that she reportedly is unabashed about being a slut. Anytime her friend gives her crap about it, Liz tells her that she knows what she likes... and that includes sex. She drips with sexuality, and has ever since I've known her.

Both Angela and Liz, despite their polarized looks, have one thing in common: they've both wanted to fuck me since they were 15.

Angela admitted this to me, citing an impromptu (and at the time seemingly innocent) wrestling match as a time that she was trying to seduce me.

Liz hasn't admitted her desire, but it's always been obvious in the way she stands super-close to me when she talks to me, in the way she flirts with me. Then there are a few mixed social occasions that we've partaken in, with her becoming obviously bummed out when I rebuffed blatant advances because of her age.

Both Liz and Angela are in their twenties now. I want to get with Angela to get her out of my system. Liz, on the other hand... I want her to become my "girlfriend." Maybe one day, I'll post to Craigslist Missed Connections and confess my desire for her.

The Mere Thought of Her Name

noreply@blogger.com (Rogue Erotica) — Tue, 17 Jun 2008 19:47:00 +0000

I sit in the mid-morning sun drinking my coffee. My wife has gone to the bathroom after we have just talked about possibly having sex. As I sit there, I think to myself, "What I could go for is some Liz." With a preceding tingle, my cock instantly rose to a semi-flacid state.

How can a person, a person with very little live contact with me, have such an influence on me?

Liz Is Living with Me!

noreply@blogger.com (Rogue Erotica) — Mon, 16 Jun 2008 19:39:00 +0000

Well, okay, Liz isn't exactly living with me. But after running into her a couple of weeks ago, she's who I think of before going to bed and who I wake to every morning. Of course, my hard-on says it all.

There I go, slipping into slumber and thinking of her with an erection to beat the band. Then when I wake up, it's possibly even harder than the night before.

I've tested the strength of her inspiration factor. I assume that maybe I'm just horny in general. Then, I think of someone else, anyone else who's been known to get a rise out of me pretty easily. The switch always results in the same outcome: a slowly limping cock. As soon as I think of Liz again, though, I pop right back up to attention, harder than before, almost to the point of pain.

Hence the reason for this post. All it took was a mere three-minute roadside conversation to get me back on the Liz-wagon. Maybe one day, I'll get to find out if all my adoration is worth it.

Please Let Me Take His Place

noreply@blogger.com (Rogue Erotica) — Sun, 01 Jun 2008 16:26:00 +0000

Now here's one lucky guy:

If you've read much of this blog, you know about my tastes. I like full-size ladies with dark hair. If you've ever scrolled all the way to the footer of this blog, you will have noticed my dedication to soothe_n_sigh — the woman responsible for my current love of all things BBW.

What I haven't shared here is that Soothe (as I will refer to her) is half Japanese. When I first hooked up with Soothe online, I fell for her. At the time, I was on the tail-end of a decade long search for a tiny, sexy Asian girl. The way I currently obsess over BBW, that's how I used to obsess over small Asians. Needless to say, I was stoked to have an Asian finally interested in me. Most all Asian women only seem interested in rich, short-haired pretty boys. After all our convo, though, she confessed to her true size (Notably, this was the first time I learned about the term "BBW"). By this point, she had already hooked me so I went for it.

Although the other half of her ancestry was Swedish, her look was all Japanese. At a mere five feet tall, she certainly met my tiny standard (I'm 6'1"). I struggled with how much I enjoyed our time together. After all, I was pretty much disgusted by big girls. All the ones I had had before were lazy and lame. I wanted tiny women. Yet, something about Soothe made none of that matter. I grew addicted to her shape and size. She became the best lay in my life, and over the years, my taste for plump Asians has gone out the roof.

Despite news that says the influence of Western restaurants in Eastern cities is creating a "wider" Asian woman, most every one I see is small. So, imagine my delight as I see porn stars like Kelly Shibari hit the scene. Then there's the pic above — let me take his place.... pah-leeeeze!