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Angela St. Lawrence is the reigning queen of high-end, long distance training and Femme Domme phone sex, providing esoteric depravity for the aficionado, specializing in Erotic Fetish, Female Domination, Cock Control, Kinky Taboo and Sensual Debauchery. To make an appointment or speak with Ms. St. Lawrence  ...


Those Damn Nipples

My sister sent me this joke, of which I am rather fond. I’ll tell you why in a second.

Subject: Medical Condition

A man and a woman were sitting beside each other in the first class section of an airplane. The woman sneezed, took out a tissue, gently wiped her nose, then visibly shuddered for ten to fifteen seconds.

The man went back to his reading. A few minutes later, the woman sneezed again, took a tissue, wiped her nose, then shuddered violently once more. Assuming that the woman might have a cold, the man was still curious about the shuddering. A few more minutes passed when the woman sneezed yet again. As before she took a tissue, wiped her nose, her body shaking even more than before.

Unable to restrain his curiosity, the man turned to the woman and said, “I couldn’t help but notice that you’ve sneezed three times, wiped your
nose and then shuddered violently. Are you ok?”

“I am sorry if I disturbed you, I have a very rare medical condition; whenever I sneeze I have an orgasm.”

The man, more than a bit embarrassed, was still curious. “I have never heard of that condition before” he said. “Are you taking anything for it?”

The woman nodded, “Pepper.”

So why do I like this joke? I’m going to let you in on a little secret about me. Maybe a secret and half, because there’s kinda-sorta two parts to it. Regardless, you know I don’t do that very often. So tuck this away in your Angela scrapbook for later reference…just in case.

I happen to have extremely sensitive flesh, which–as one might expect–extends to my nipples. Now I’m rather fond of my nipples, as they are the eraser-type and downright perky. I wouldn’t trade them for any other nipples in the world. But in collusion with my flesh they often get me into some embarrasing situations.

Someone can come up behind me and touch my arm or my hair or my back (these body parts in particular–but others too) and immediately those damn nipples go boing. And I do mean boing! Because those little strawberries will just stick right out there for everybody to see, especially when I’m wearing a sheer or lacy bra.

One of the most embarrasing moments was when I was getting a breast exam from an elderly female gynecologist (grey hair in a bun, orthopedic man-shoes, called me honey). I could feel myself turning ten shades of crimson as I stared off into the corner pretending it wasn’t happening, when we both knew it was. Despite the occasional very hot medical fantasy in which I participate, this was not the time nor the place. But those nekid’ little titties just didn’t care.

So when a guy boasts to me–and I’ve heard this more times than I can even count–that “I will “suck your nipples until they get hard,” I always think to myself: Well, mister man, if you’re doing anything even remotely right, they should be erect long before your get that braggart mouth around them. Like I said, I think it, but don’t say it. Let the poor guy have his Lothario illusions. ‘Cuz it’s pretty much a sure bet that he’s not going to be getting anywhere near my nipples anyway.

The other thing is that my nipples always go completely rigid when I sneeze. Which has been interesting as of late, since developing some major allergy issues. I love sneezing! Wouldn’t you?


  • FYI: Starting tonight and for the next three Wednesdays, TNT is presenting eight one-hour episodes featuring stories from Stephen King’s Nightmares and Dreamscapes. And I am going to be watching. Care to join me?
  • I’ve decided to boycott Radio Shack. They have the worst sales personel. Can’t they even pretend to want to sell you stuff? It’s hard to believe they get a commission…more about this later.
  • A special hello to Andrew, Paul and Thomas. (you know who you are)
  • It seems Yankee ingenuity is not just an American thing!

4 Responses to “Those Damn Nipples”

  1. Tom Says:

    I love those nipples…and the rest of Angela also. Secrets are nice.

  2. Goodguygonebad Says:

    I’m shy, Angela. It’s good to know that all I have to do is touch your arm! The case of pepper should reach you soon.

  3. Brian Says:

    You’re reading the morning paper, still trying to wake up, when you feel a touch on the back of your arm. You’re a little startled, but turn to find it’s only me, you’re friendly neighbor; Brian. I’ve been helping you make some alterations to your home, so it’s not unusual for me to come talk to you in the morning.

    As I start to describe some ideas I’ve had you try to angle away from me to try to hide your nipples inevitable reaction to my simple touch. Since you just woke up you’re not even wearing a bra, just a very thin t-shirt, which hides nothing at all. I don’t seem to notice anything, but I keep on touching your arm, almost stroking it. Ostensibly to bring your attention to some idea I’ve written down in my notebook. But each innocent (or not so innocent) touch intensifies your reaction, and makes it very difficult to pay attention to what I’m saying.

    Finally I seem to notice something and ask “Angela. are you all right? You seem…tense.” You quickly mumble something about being fine, but I don’t seem to believe you.

    “Here, let me rub your shoulders,” I offer”maybe that’ll help.” Before you can respond I’m behind you, brushing your luxuriant hair out of the way and begin giving your shoulders a very thorough massage. It feels very good, but it doesn’t really reduce your tension, as now the front of your t-shirt is gently rubbing your nipples, bringing them to full bloom.

    “Does that feel good?” I ask.

    “Yes.” You respond, a little out of breath.

    “But you’re still tense, her let me try something else.” And with that my hands move down to your back. For a moment you can feel their heat imprint you back as they just breast there, but then they start long stokes, up and down the length of your back. These strokes are mimicked by the front of your t-shirt across your nipples, and as the sensation there intensifies, you feel a wonderful tension grow in your pussy.

    A whimper of intense pleasure escapes your lips. I ask “Is anything wrong Angela?” But a teasing note in my voice belies the seeming concern of my words, and now you know there’s nothing ‘innocent’ about any of this. Somehow I’ve discovered the secret of your sensitive skin, and am taking full advantage.

    “Oh, you sonovabitch!” You gasp. Knowing I’m found out I can’t help but laugh. And since now there’s no need to disguise my intentions, I slide my hands around to your front, cupping your breasts and tweaking your nipples directly. As I do you lean back, resting yourself against my chest, letting me fully support you so you can give yourself fully to the sensation. That lovely pressure builds in your pussy more and more.

    After a while I move my hand down towards your panties, slowly enough to permit you to stop me, if that’s what you want. But you don’t want to stop me, you want me to continue. And I do. At first through your panties, and then directly, I massage your clit and pussy lips.

    After a few moments of me stimulating your nipples with one hand, and your pussy with the other, comes that beautiful release; that goes under the deceptively simple name of orgasm.

    For a while you simply lie there, trusting me to support you until you’re ready to move again. After a while you arise and turn to look at me, and seeing that incredibly satisfied smart-ass grin on my face, you think, well two can play that game…

    So, Angela, what will you’re play be?

  4. Angela Says:

    damn, brian…stop it already…a girl has gotta work here, ya know…

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