The One Upper...

We all know one... Hell, some of you reading this might BE one.

The person who, no matter what you've said or done, has done it better, stronger, harder, faster, with more struggle than you can possibly imagine!!!  And they'll tell you about it.

I work with one of these people... two actually. And to see them interact with one another is a thing of beauty. It's a veritable plethora of passive aggressive one-upsmanship on a scale that would make most people wet themselves. To hear the two of them talk, you'd assume that they have the greatest, most blessed lives ever and simultaneously have dealt with more struggles, woes, and personal demons than you could ever have.

I'd really like to punch them both.

They do not talk with anyone in an effort to talk to learn something about that person - they talk so they can talk about themselves and their lives.

I'm 40 years old. I spent 10 years in the army Infantry. I've done OCR (Obstacle Course Races). I have kids. I've done literally YEARS of damage to my knees and legs. And some days, like today, they feel like I've been jumped by Tonya Harding in my sleep... It literally hurts me to stand today. And sit... And, to top it all off, I've had several fucked up dreams this week from my PTSD...  So, to have my pain and my tired, bags under the eyes, look get blown off with "You should try living in my shoes"... I lost it.

I looked at this person and remained silent. I just nodded while they went on and on about how bad they had it and how they were tired from getting up early for a meeting with the Bank Manager or some equally bullshit thing...

What I WANTED to say was this. "Yes, asshole, I would gladly trade you places. Then, when you wake up at 5am with your knees aching and your mind plagued with the visions of burning children, you might, for one instance in your padded, bullshit life, know what true pain is. Then maybe you'll shut the fuck up instead of running your cock-holster non stop and annoying the ever loving shit out of me and everyone else. Nobody here is on easy street, except maybe you. So, when you're reeling over how bad it is that this year you ONLY got to go on a 3 week Alaskan cruise and Europe twice, you might realize that the rest of us are truly fucked. Maybe, just MAYBE you'd gain some fucking perspective on what a piece of shit you really are."

I fucking hate people who just HAVE to be better than you - or worse. The people who feel compelled to one-up every good or bad thing that's ever happened.

Seriously - get fucked.

Don't be this person. If someone is telling you something - try to avoid responding with any story of your own that has the effect of "your story is cute, but mine is better." We're all guilty of it. Even me - and I hate myself when I do it.... but right now, I am in pain. And the last thing I need is someone who biggest problem in life is their lack of European vacations telling me how bad they've got it.

'Twas The Night Before XXXmas - A Poem

'Twas The Night Before XXXmas

A @BourbonSex Original Poem

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through our house,

I was horny as fuck and she wasn't wearing her blouse;

The stocking were hiked up her thighs with care,

I wanted to grab them and bury my face there;

Our children were nestled all snug in their bed;

While I sweet talked mommy into giving me head;

So she's in her panties, and I in my shirt,

And she started to lick, she started to flirt;

When out in the hall our son made a thundering boom,

I need to deal with the kid before we can resume;

Away to the kitchen I ran pretty quick,

Using a towel to hide my blood-engorged dick;

The polish on the grain of the newly-mopped floor,

Gave little traction as I passed through the door;

When what did I find as I slid through the dark,

But the goddamn table and I let scream with a bark!

With a pained little grimace to prevent all my raving,

I knew I had to hurry to get the tail I was craving;

Faster than The Flash - I went to my task,

Getting more than just the juice for which he had asked;

Now, cookies! Now chips! Now water and juice!

On snack time! On bed time! My towel's coming loose!

To the top of the stairs! To the foot of his bed!

Now go to sleep! Go to sleep! So I can get head!

As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

I read him a book, until he closed his big eyes;

So back to the bedroom, for it's time to screw!

With a throbbing erection, and a vibrator too!

And then, in terror, I heard at the door

The yawning and whining of the other one... she's four;

As I drew up my towel and was turning around,

Through the now open door she came with a bound;

She was dressed in pink from her head to her toes,

This shit is killing me. You tiny, cute little foes!

A blanket and toys she'd flung on her back,

I flashed a scared look at momma who was covering her rack;

Her eyelids were heavy - this child of mine,

I escorted her to her room, hopefully she'll sleep this time;

Her hair was a mess, going this way and that,

And after a short story, she was asleep just like that;

The blood in my body had eased up its flow,

But when I came back to momma, she was ready to go;

Her legs were spread eagle, her toy buzzed on her clit,

She stared at me intensely and beckoned me to it;

She was giddy and horny, a right jolly old beauty,

I dropped my towel to the floor and prepared to do my duty;

A wink of my eye and a drop of my head,

I licked and tickled her from the side of the bed;

I spoke not a word, but went straight for her thighs,

And filled all her holes with my tongue and heard sighs;

And running my finger around her pink clit,

I worked and and wiggled and made a jolly mess of it;

She sprang to her knees, and me gave a grunt,

She threw me on the bed and stuck my cock in her cunt;

But I heard her exclaim as she climaxed with me

"Happy Christmas to all, and oh fuck, yes, right there...RIGHT THERE!!!! YES!!!!"

Merry XXXmas.

Krampusnacht

A @BourbonSex Erotic Fiction - Krampusnacht

It was 7:32 pm on the evening of December 5th and Linda sat in the corner watching the merriment. It was her company and, therefore, her party. But she hated Christmas parties. She was there because she had to be and not because she wanted to be. She wore an elegant black dress with a simple teardrop diamond necklace that drew attention down her lean neck, past her collarbones and into her ample cleavage for all the good it would do her. You just can't fuck the help.

      She was not having a good time.

      The wine was not giving her the blissful lowered inhibitions she’d been wanting. Instead, she sat quietly watching her workers go about their time at the holiday party. She watched Mark from sales flirt with Carol from the call center. Stacy from the reception desk was trying desperately to win the attention of Tim from accounting, but Tim seemed intent on flirting with John from IT.


“If her top gets any more open…” Linda said to herself as she watched.

       "Huh?" Deborah, Linda's personal assistant asked.

       "Stacy." Linda said. "She's throwing herself at Tim. Tim's gay. Tim wants to fuck John in IT." She shook her head. "I swear they're all fucking morons, Deborah."

      "Yes, ma'am." Deborah snapped. "Morons."

      "What about you, Deborah? Who do you want to fuck?"

      "Ma'am?"

       "Oh, come on. It's the holiday party, everyone is happy and drinking. There's got to be someone you'd like to fuck."

       "I am happily married." Deborah said sheepishly.

       "Good answer, Deb! I was happily married too." Linda snapped. "But Stan decided my sexual proclivities were just too much for him." She sighed. "In three weeks, it will be a year since the last time I've gotten laid." She threw back the rest of her wine. "I fucking hate Christmas." She poured a small glass and downed it. "And if momma ain't happy, ain't nobody happy, right?"

       "Uh... right?" Deborah agreed weakly. She knew what this meant and she decided to go ahead and ask the question. "Why, if I may ask, do you want to ruin the Christmas party? I mean, it is your company and all..." Deborah's voice grew weaker as she spoke and was barely above a whisper as she trailed off.

       "Bah fucking humbug." Linda said. "That's why."

Sexy Chocolate Cake Recipe - A Guest Post by D. Faust

Today's Guest post is from my twitter friend, D. Faust (@TheSmutGeek). It is a recipe for a sinfully chocolaty cake... and I CANNOT WAIT TO TRY IT!!!

D. Faust is an erotic romance story teller, adult toy and book reviewer, sex blogger, and freelance kink writer. You can find more of her work at www.SmutGeek.com or on Twitter @TheSmutGeek 

Sexy Chocolate Cake Recipe
A Guest Post by D. Faust

I broke the kiss and leaned in to put my lips to my husband’s ear. “We’d better get going.”

Mr. Faust sighed and released his hold on my hips with evident misgivings about ending our impromptu make-out session. “What did you need from the store again?”

I could tell from the tone he was already worrying about trudging through some super store for groceries, an activity he dreaded in general but especially close to the holiday season. Rolling my eyes I went to go get my shoes on. “I just need to hit World Market and grab a beer.”

“A beer?” Mr. Faust asked, running his hand over my ass and outlining my panty lines through my skirt.

“Sticky Toffee Pudding Ale,” I explained with a smirk. Mr. Faust smiled a little as the realization hit him. He knows I only buy that particular beer for one reason.

My Very Sexy Chocolate Cake

I love chocolate and I’m a fan of a moist cake. As a hobby baker, I desired to master my skills in both of these areas. I’m still working on that mastery but I do believe I’ve developed quite the arsenal of recipes over the years and my favorite is this cake recipe.

It began as Guinness chocolate cupcakes I made for a former Mistress. Since then I learned more about cake and tried other beers in boozy baking.

An Essay About Cerebral Palsy - A Guest Post by Renee Uitto

Renee Uitto has been a writer since college. She wrote for both of her college newspapers. She received a B.A. in Journalism.


Currently, she is writing essays about matters that affect her life. She is also publishing articles for two newsletters, Stepping Stones and Let’s Talk from the agency Oakland Community Health Network in Troy, Michigan. She also belongs to several committees at OCHN that pertain to such issues as guardianship, self-determination, state and federal issues that pertain to persons with developmental disabilities and persons with mental illness.


Renee lives in Troy, Michigan and enjoys reading, shopping, and music.
You Can follow her on Twitter here: @ReneeUitto

An Essay About Cerebral Palsy

A Guest Post by Renee Uitto

Hello, my name is Renee Uitto and I have cerebral palsy. That might be a lame introduction, but I like to introduce myself that way so people won’t be surprised. I think of myself as any other 47-year-old woman. I have my own apartment, even though I have caregivers with me most of the day to help me with my personal care and things around the house. Sometimes it is hard to find good caregivers. Some people want to do things their way, and not bother to ask me what I want, which pisses me off. I have a voice. I have my own opinions about stuff. One caregiver left me in bed until two in the afternoon. A lot of people were very pissed off. This young girl who took care of me didn’t realize that I had my own opinion and made my own choices. I felt like she made choices for me, and I am glad she is gone now.

Confessions of a Mistress - A Guest Post by Cailey Lyra

Today's Guest Author is my first anonymous post. Cailey (a 28 year old living out west) contacted me via DM on Twitter and asked if she could write an anonymous post - Cailey is a pen name - and I said "We take all kinds here!" So... here we are with Cailey's tale of becoming a mistress and her life thereafter in an open, long distance relationship. She and her partner are living 1,000 miles apart, roughly, working to keep their relationship going.

I don't know Cailey - but I thank her for sharing her story here and I hope you enjoy reading it.

Confessions of a Mistress

A Guest Post by Cailey Lyra

About two years ago, I met my current beau on a casual basis that, in the course of a few months, turned into a beautiful, romantic relationship.

And then I found out he was married...

And only a little while later, I found out he had a child. But by the time all this pieced together, we were in love with each other, and trying to undo that proved difficult. Not only because we were compatible and enjoyed each other’s company beyond simple flesh, though of course we enjoy that too, but because the relationship he was in with his then wife, was already unhappy.

Here’s the full story: 

I did not meet my man in a steamy bar at twilight, wearing a skin-tight cocktail dress or however they do it in the romance dramas. We met on Tumblr, both searching for literary roleplay partners with matching desires. When I say roleplay, I do not mean sexual roleplay. I mean something more akin to Dungeons & Dragons for even more introverted nerds. Our first interactions were strictly platonic, even as we got to know each other better. We decided on an original story topic, we sent each other replies, and we would talk over chatting apps. 

Hunting and Life in Rural America - A Guest Post by "Just Ben"

My Guest Author Today is "Just Ben" (@TheDarkRabbit)

Self-described as a combat veteran, father of 2, and husband to A.J. Bass.

I met "Just Ben" on Twitter when I won a giveaway for his wife's book. He and I share a lot of common interests and he offered to write a post about hunting when he saw that I'd recently gone myself. I hope you enjoy this glimpse into his life.

Hunting: Life in Rural America
A Guest Post by "Just Ben"

I'm fairly certain that hunting is looked at in vastly different ways by the rural communities vs urban communities. Out here in rural Nowhere - it's a way of life.

In the urban community it's probably seen as an unnecessary thing by many, possibly barbaric by some, and just not an option for most. But I am not talking about trophy hunting or going on safari (fuck you Eric Trump!). I'm talking about walking out into the woods before the sun comes up and freezing my ass off for several hours in the hopes I will come home late that day with a large deer that will fill my family's freezer for months to come.

People here hunt, and for good reason. If the deer in our area were left to their own devices - they would breed themselves to death. I know that sounds silly, but it's true. They'll strip an entire area of its food (for the deer) in a season or two if their numbers get too big. Then they'll start getting hungry and move into the towns and roads and become a hazard. The hunting community keeps these numbers in a manageable level. And the people here are passionate about it.