Apr 302013
 

He opened the door and my heart was pounding like a mad thing. A million thoughts raced through my head becoming a jumbled blur. This was it then…

I’m a flirt. I love banter and I love the delicious interactions between men and women who aren’t afraid of their sexuality. Since I had first entered the world of sex blogging he’d had my attention. Lighthearted, playful, and easy interactions flowed.

I was intrigued as well by this man for more than the delicious glimpses I’d gotten of his body and his intelligence, but also by his life. Beautiful family, open loving relationship with a gorgeous, supportive wife. I’d never been with someone in an open relationship. I’d never been a toy.

I’d never really thought, beyond the fantasy, to seek out such a person or interaction though. Until, amidst one of the flirtatious exchanges of words and images, he suddenly issued me an invitation to join him while he was nearby for work.

I knew it wasn’t cocktails and a pleasant meeting he was proposing, although that was certainly part of the deal. Suddenly, this vague daydream was a real and actual possibility. I instantly got hot and wet at the thought and agreed. No hesitation, simply excitement.

We began making plans. Not only did his wife know, she bought the condoms for the trip, which just made me all the more in awe of her and excited. Being single, there wasn’t really anyone to tell, except my sister, and that was something I was a bit hesitant to do. After all, how would that conversation go:

“Hi sissy! Just wanted to let you know that I am taking a couple days off of work to go have sex with this really pleasant married man I know from the Internet!”

Um, yeah. I avoided the scenario and imagined reaction throughout all of my planning. Instead I focused on the meeting and the items I wanted to pack for my little overnight adventure. He and I exchanged several emails about practical, logistical concerns  but there were quite a few more texts about what we wanted to do to the other when we were finally afforded the opportunity. Suddenly it became a question of “How many sex toys are too many?” and “Is lingerie overkill or killer?” One of the extremely exciting factors to this for me was the fact that I already knew about this man’s sex life. I already knew he was just as open and adventurous as I was and that really, can you ever have too many sex toys?

Finally, the day came to make my trip. The only time I’d spent this much time in grooming prep was when I was doing photos (ok, you got me, I take photos constantly…. but there was extra attention given!). Well, and really, I WAS going to be doing photos. He not only liked photos as much as I do, he even had gorgeous equipment I lusted over almost as much as his beautiful dick.

I’d ran into a little problem earlier on in the week. This problem I refer to as “spray tan leprosy”. I’d gotten a spray tan on my legs as usual for photos. The problem this time, was that it rained immediately after and my legs got wet. You aren’t supposed to get wet for a few hours after application. So, thanks to in-climate weather, I now had light spots on my legs that needed to be filled in. A bottle of tan in a can and suddenly the holes were filled, even if my legs were now a bit too dark.

I dress immaculately normally. I am a woman who loves to ooze femininity and sensuality, so a lovely, form fitting dress to show of my curves and a pair of strappy heels completed my pinup hair and ruby red lipstick. I was packed, ready, and on the road.

The drive time between home and my destination was about 4 hours. I was overly excited and decided to make good use of the present my sister had purchased me for long car drives. So, thanks to that wonderful little bullet, my trip was made much more pleasant by the two orgasms I had while thinking about what was to come (no pun, okay, maybe a little, intended).

It was during the drive that I finally found my gumption. I’d always confided in my sister, and no matter what she said, I was already on my way, there was no turning back. I finally picked up the phone and told her. To my surprise, she not only said that was awesome (she knew the man too and had actually expressed an interest in meeting him and his lovely wife), she also said she envied my spontaneity. It was perfect, there was nothing left now to worry about…

Except actually BEING there. I pulled into the parking garage of his hotel already wound up. I was in a tightly populated business district with construction going on. I hadn’t taken anything for my anxiety because I didn’t want the dulled senses side effect. My anxiety was through the roof! I was here, he was so close and my heart began to flutter. I checked myself and decided I wasn’t too rumpled from my car trip, it was time to go upstairs.

I knocked. Counted my irregular heartbeats, and suddenly, the door was opened. Bright eyes peeked out at me from behind the door where he had playfully hidden to perpetrate a joke we had previously discussed of him waiting naked for me. His tall frame moved from behind the door and I saw him, in front of me (dressed), for the very first time. The next couple of minutes are a bit hazy to me because my nervous system went into overdrive. Thankfully though, despite my pink stained cheeks and nervous glances away, he was able to make me feel comfortable with the lighthearted banter I’d enjoyed engaging in with him previously.

He cupped my cheeks and kissed me, taking the edge off while I got settled and we exchanged pleasantries. I can’t describe the transition from friendly meeting to me yanking his shirt off. No more than a few minutes had passed since I had been in the room. He heeded to my earlier expressed desire of worrying about taking clothes off and foreplay AFTER I already had him inside of me. I am notoriously impatient. I wanted to taste him, I wanted to feel him, I wanted to fuck him.

See our next segment Special Delivery coming soon to hear what happens next.

 Posted by at 12:17 am
Apr 292013
 

So I’ve seen this going around and enjoyed learning about other’s significant other. I originally found this from Sir Q and Me

1. He’s sitting in front of the TV, what is on the screen?


History or Discovery Channel. He loves “How it’s made”, wars and weapons, history made visual, the earth and all its creatures
2. You’re out to eat; what kind of dressing does he get on his salad?


     Only ceasar
4. You go out to eat and have a drink, what does he order?


     Tea or water, rum and coke
5. Where did he go to high school?


A ghetto HS.


6. What size shoe does he wear?


12
7. If he was to collect anything, what would it be?


    Cars
8. What is his favorite type of sandwich?


chicken club at restaurants and peanut butter and jelly at home
9. What would this person eat every day if he could?


pizza
10. What is his favorite cereal?


Cinnamon Toast Crunch
11. What would he never wear?


    Something flowery, or a corset, I want him to when we go to Rocky Horror Picture Show…yeah, not happening
12. What is his favorite sports team?


      doesn’t have one (but I do)
13.Who did he vote for?


     While I filed absentee for him, he failed to actually mail out his ballot…sigh, typical
14. Who is his best friend?


     without question: me
15. What is something you do that he wishes you wouldn’t do?


     coddle our son or nag him some days with a disclaimer that he wants me to nag him other days
16. What is his heritage?


Amazon (I swear it should be mom’s if it’s not offical) and Hispanic
17. You bake him a cake for his birthday:


      He would do it better, but chocolate cake
18. Did he play sports in high school?


     Fencing (teehee, how cute) and hockey
19. What could he spend hours doing?


      Gaming, working on cars 


20. What is one unique talent he has?


      getting me to orgasm with me on top – I’ve had a lot of lovers, he has been the only one. Also, the kids swear that being a former Boy Scout, he can create everything from nothing (we joke he could make a house from dental floss, some twigs, and paper for example). Seriously, whenever something is needed, he comes up with a way to make it with home supplies. Handy for school projects…or kinky projects.

 Posted by at 10:46 pm
Apr 262013
 
Rules: Key Word: Liberation, but not Freedom
Word Count: 199-209
*Accidentally looked at the wrong prompt
 
My mother taught to always be a strong woman. I was fiercely independent – relationships didn’t compliment well.
Then I met Max. Instant attraction: tall, dark, handsome, a magnetizing smile. When I pushed for sex, he said wait.
I’m not patient….but I did. When finally physical, we’d already known intimacy, just his terms. It was amazing. As time went on, I began responding to his desires more frequently. He would grab my hair, I climaxed harder. When he told me how to please him, I was excited – not defiant, resentful. I wanted to…
This is where it’s gotten me…sitting in an empty room, my back up against the wall (literally and figuratively). He had honestly shared wanting me submissive to him sexually.
So obedient? Dutiful? These words don’t describe me! I think… hands pressed together,  knees bent, like in an upright fetal position. I’m not weak, I’m strong. Thinking upon last night, right before bringing me to orgasm, yanking hair – moving mouth to ear, he whispered: “Not weak. Liberation, but not freedom. Submit to me sexually, break free of biases.” Then he thrusted in – I screaming and thoughtless.
Still shuddering at the words; I’d made a decision and stood up.   
 
Notes: I checked out the FFF through my phone. I don’t know if I found an old one, or a different one to a different blog, but somehow I thought this was this weeks ‘- oops! Didn’t discover the truth until I went to submit it Friday morning. However, I’m proud…I don’t want this to not be published and seen, it was challenging to write.
This is such a tiny word count, it’s ridiculous. I had to cut out 100 words once I was done with the draft. And the key word isn’t a word, it’s a damn phrase…but it was also highly inspirational to this story. As soon as I saw it, and the picture, I wanted to depict the inner struggle of a woman faced with this decision, against her own preconceived notions.
 Posted by at 10:09 am
Apr 242013
 

To be, or not to be the school girl was the question of the night. I stared at the skirt in my hands and let my eyes drift over to the Mary Jane stripper heels, before rolling them at the whole scenario. I’ve always prided myself on being open sexually and game to try anything, but I didn’t know if I could pull this one off.

Random A fun fact: I don’t usually go beyond two or three different phrases in the heat of sex talk. The reason being, I think I sound very, very special, and not the OMG-look-at-her-take-that-whole-banana special, more like the I-confused-snack-foods-for-my-vagina special (see Twitter). So this then has me limiting myself to a few key phrases I have grown comfortable saying.

This obviously doesn’t lend itself to being a genius sexy-kitten role player. So, with visions of him thinking he is fucking William Shatner in a plaid skirt, I was a bit apprehensive to fulfill this particular fantasy. This is when my real acting skills shine. I could charm the pants off of a nun, so I quickly started trying to come up with ways and excuses not to do this.

So far the only go-to move I could come up with was to just be naked and waiting, and get his dick inside of my mouth as quickly as possible. Maybe he wouldn’t notice the lack of pigtails and super itchy skirt. In a mild, sarcastic panic for a bit, I indulged the fantasies of pleading illness or insanity (I call it the snack food defense), before coming to grips that I had to at least try.

Sigh. He’d indulged the things I wanted to try, and the nightmare of getting all of that honey out of his chest hair meant that I owed it to him to at least attempt the school girl thing. On went the white knee highs which I couldn’t help but admire sliding over my smooth, tan legs. Naughty red lace thong gracing the ample ass I’d come to love, that blasted skirt….

Ruby red lips in a nervous smile and a slight fidget greeted him as he came in the door. His eyes lit up in appreciation as he took in the sight of me, and my body relaxed. William Shatner or no, I knew we were going to have a great time together. He came over to take me in his arms and I made some coy remark about “Oh Mr. So-and-So! What are you doing!?” because it was his fantasy and he was breaking the rules.

It was bad… The only thing missing was the dramatic hand placed against my forehead and the fluttering of my lashes. He laughed. A lot. I laughed. Role playing just wasn’t something I was ever going to be good at, but laughter during sex I can handle.

He tumbled me to the bed, and I am grateful to say, the rest of the evening was just “Let’s fuck A with a plaid skirt on and try to avoid getting stabbed with the stripper heels” instead of the Shakespearean acting session I had been dreading all day.

Sometimes, as long as you try, the failed attempts at kink can be just as hot and fulfilling as those you can do like a pro.

 Posted by at 10:05 am
Apr 242013
 
Click and play: The Whole Story Needs this Song!
Once upon a time, I had a lover. He was goofy, crazy, and quite the nerd. Within a week of us being intimate with each other, I realized that he was clueless with what to play for make out music – and I mean CLUELESS.
The first hint was given one day when I came over to his house. Being new, we were still impressing each other. I looked hot, all dolled up and sexy. He immediately pulled me over to the bed, and we started kissing. He had roommates, so I pulled back, and breathlessly suggested, “put on some music to block us out.”
“Good idea,” he said, and proceeded to disappear over the foot of the bed, where his CDs were stored. I heard some shuffling around, and then he popped his head up, holding a CD proudly inquires: “Dr. Dre?”. Now for those who don’t know, Dr. Dre is gangsta rap. Not exactly romantic, or passionate sexy music.
I wasn’t sure if he was kidding. “Um, no, try something else.” And down again his head went with the CD, below the end of the bed.
Another hint, and the reason why you’re hopefully listening to this incredibly high pitched funny dance song, is that the very next day he decided to try to be sexy for me. In all sincerity, he began to slowly unbuckle his belt, pull it out in his most provocative way, and then pushed play for his “strip” song.
Can you guess where this is going? Yep, The Hampster Dance song came on. Now, he was good looking, muscles and fit, but a true nerd. So in his sexiest moves, he began to circle his head around, maintaining eye contact with me, and then slowly lifted his shirt, pretending to move it down again to be a tease, before it came completely off. A few belly rolls, for lack of anything else to call it, and then he moved to his jeans’ button, winking as he undid it. An attempt at some shuffling/bouncing type movement as he lowered his zipper. He hooked his thumbs in the sides of his jeans, and moved in a hula-type fashion while moving the sides of his jeans up on one side and down on the other, and then back again. A few repetitions of this, he turned around, and then yanked down his pants, with his ass nicely in the air. Once he was completely free of his jeans, he turned back around and proceeded to do the same hula dance to take off his boxers, except he didn’t turn around for his ass to be the focus, this time it was on his semi-aroused cock.
What is it with men who have a naked penis freely moving? Can you guess his next signature move? It was the helicopter, in which he moved his hips so his penis swung around in circles.
Now, again, he seemed very sincere in his attempts to be sexy. He had no rhythm, and he clearly needed to go to a strip club (I took him to his first one much later in our relationship) to see what sexy moves looked like while removing clothing. But he was putting on a show for me, so I tried very very VERY hard to not laugh, but seriously…how the hell could I not?

To this day, I still have no idea if that was his idea of sexy, or if he was just joking around with me. I never wanted to insult him with “oh hey, were you for real with that hilarious strip dance?” in case that was his best effort. From then on out, I chose what we were listening to…but I can never hear The Hampster Dance song and not think of a goofy but gorgeous guy stripping unskilled for me…and smile.Wicked Wednesday... be inspired & share...Not the most wicked, but certainly humorous. See who may be wicked…

 

Apr 222013
 

I won a beautiful minx bunny tail  from Crystal Delights during an Easter contest they had on twitter via @CrystalDToys. That’s right, I finally won something… and what a something it was!

I was so excited to get my bunny tail and decided to write a review about it. I’m not being compensated, nor was I asked to, but I love it so much I couldn’t resist.

This is far an away my favorite anal toy so far. The packaging was discrete ant the tail itself protected from harm in a heavy duty holder. It included a small bottle of lube and a wonderful care instruction sheet. This was invaluable to me because it is the first “tail” I’ve owned and had no idea how to deal with and care for the fur. Taking it out of the packaging I was struck by the quality of the craftsmanship throughout the entire product. From the quality of the hand crafted glass, to the fur of the tail, I was even more excited to get it home and test it out.

One of my favorite features about the tail, aside from the ascetics, is the size and spacing between the flared base and the bulb. My biggest problem with other plugs is that I have a big rear end. This presents a problem as my body doesn’t have enough space to get around the bulb of the plug and hold between the two. With my bunny tail that problem was eliminated. With a length of 3.3″, of which the insertible length is 2.8″ and the bulb measures 1.3″, it’s deliciously sized. It is definitely a great fit for me.

My only reservation with my bunny tail was concern about the lube getting on the fur. I’m quite the lube queen when doing anything anally, and I always wanted to make sure I wasn’t ruining my fur. So far, after several uses, it hasn’t been a problem, but it is something I keep my eye on.

This has quickly become my favorite anal product by far out of all of the ones I have previously tried, and it looks so cute in! Obviously this isn’t a plug that you would wear out under your clothes as some people like to do. It is definitely apt for a sexy little show at home though!

I look forward to trying out other products from Crystal Delights, their craftsmanship and beauty simply beg for you to try more.

 Posted by at 10:31 pm
Apr 222013
 

“Poly-what?”
Sigh. This wasn’t going as well as I’d hoped. I was making a muck of things and it wasn’t only hurting my cause, it was hurting him. I had so carefully rehearsed the way things would go, but as soon as I sat him down, it went out of the window.

“I love you.”

I knew that these words confused him. I knew they too, almost hurt. It didn’t make them any less true; and it also didn’t alter the path I had set myself on.

When I first started seeing K it was uncanny almost, the similarities to my Ex. I thought I had done it, finally done it. Ex was everything I had wanted in the care and love department with me, but sexually we were a nightmare. I spent over 5 years in a very loving, committed, nunnery. I wasn’t about to do that again. K is a big strapping man and from the first he handled me with care, and cherished me… He also threw me over his shoulder and then on the bed. He’d pull my hair and leaving glowing prints on my ass… I finally had everything. So I thought.

I had been ready to settle down into monogamy again after enjoying the single life for awhile. To achieve this goal I started taking my time getting to know someone. K and I were great together and he respected me for waiting before intimacy. I spent every night cradled in his arms. We’d kiss and touch, sigh and breathe, and reach heights of desire that were hard to come down from.

Finally, though, I was done with waiting. I spent every moment with this man and I knew I had him. We took a weekend trip; I took my lingerie. We had a lovely night out and once we got back to the hotel we were both giddy with anticipation. I lit candles around the room and after a steamy bath I came out in my corset and silk stockings, my garter lace and delicate. My cheeks flushed with excitement…

We came together on the bed and there was a driving urgency, a need that had to be fulfilled. What felt like hours of teasing passed until I was urgent to have him inside of me. This is where it gets tricky.

I had already had a discussion with K about medical problems he had as a child that rendered him unable to feel sensation in more than a very small area on his penis, and the surgery at a young age that meant it never grew up with the rest of him body. He was this BIG strapping man with an extremely disproportionate body. I didn’t care then and I still didn’t care now.

It didn’t work. I am so extremely short and he is so very very tall that the only position we can manage is missionary, and that hurts. My hips can’t span him, there was no leverage for me on top. Our height differential made from behind tedious and frustrating as we couldn’t even thrust, no matter what we raised me up on. When we were done, it was more an air of defeat and discontent instead of completion.

I got a twinge of apprehension but didn’t express it. I offered reassurances, joked about my tiny legs, and said we had so many more opportunities for exploration. We continued on with out weekend and everything was just the same as it had always been.

We had problems with the condom. It wouldn’t stay on and what sensation he did have the ability to feel was stripped away. We had a frank conversation about safety and responsibility and decided we would both head out to our doctors and get testing. I was committing to this relationship and monogamy henceforth.

After more blissful time together our results finally came back, and we finally got the green light. I have to say, I expected completely different results from our previous attempt. The foreplay was still amazing. The things this man can do with his hands gives me the shivers just to think of.

45 minutes later and I am covered in sweat. My hips are screaming and my poor body is dried out and tired. K still hadn’t come. We waved the flag of defeat and told ourselves tomorrow we’d do better. Weeks go by, our relationship is perfect but the sex is becoming something we are both avoiding now. Sexually, physically, we aren’t compatible. I cannot bring my partner to orgasm and it’s killing me. I’m a sex goddess in my own right and I do not know what to do with his body. He doesn’t feel head, wrapping my hand around him hurts, and other than shallow thrust in missionary, we can’t even have sex.

By now though, there’s a problem: I love him. I love him enough to be searching desperately for a solution. My self esteem has tanked and I don’t make any effort to be sexy… I am losing a very huge piece of me, drowning in loving someone I am not compatible with. His Ex left him for another man, the first woman he had ever been with. Now suddenly, the second might be leaving because of sexual problems. I couldn’t do that to him.

I did a lot of soul searching. I felt selfish, confused, and apprehensive. I was thinking about shifting my views on everything I had ever thought was sacred in a relationship. I wanted us to open our relationship.

I couldn’t think of losing K, but I couldn’t lose ME to US.

I had discussed with my sister the idea and she linked me to some great things on how to approach it. I read everything I could find and formulated a game plan. I had previously been withdrawing from K and now I redoubled my efforts to give him affection and show him I loved him.

So here we were, sitting down for this talk I had planned for ages it seems like and I was making a muck of it. His instant reaction was one of inadequacy. I told him repeatedly that it had nothing to do with my love for him or that he was inadequate at all. I was the problem. I was kink and fetish and insatiable. It was just how I was made. The things that made him love me, that made me vivacious and irresistible were now too leading us down this unexplored path.

I wanted to be open. Not just our relationship, but our communications, our feelings. I would never cheat and so I needed to make this an acceptable part of our relationship. K had many of the problems I knew he would, they’d be the same potential problems I’d be opening myself up to if we opened our relationship. Jealousy, possessiveness, fear. What if the unknown “she” could get him to climax when I had proven so woefully incapable of it myself. I explained that we would have to have very clear boundaries. I was ok with coming home every night rules, of letting the other know what was going on while sparing them the unnecessary details. Of taking it slowly over months before any actual relationships with others were formed.

No matter what I said, though, K always looked – always said the same. He was unable to see himself being okay with it; he was inadequate. It broke my heart. This was our last option. We’d spoken with doctor’s, we’d done counseling, tried new toys, wedges, everything. This had to work…. Or I had to leave. I told K that I didn’t expect him to be ok with the idea at first, and to just consider it for a bit.

A week went by and K was redoubling his efforts to please me and I was doing the same to him. It wasn’t enough for me though. This was my path, this was my choice, and either we could journey into it together, or I would need to do so on my own. I was beginning to withdraw again and knew I needed to bring up my resolve. Now I just needed the right time to do it.

One day, K suddenly comes over to me, rubs my leg and says “Hey, I just wanted you to know, that blog you asked me to read? I read it. I also ordered a book on polyarmorous relationships and I’ve been reading it along with things I’ve looked up. I want you to know, that I’m thinking about it. I’m trying to see if I can be okay with it. I love you.”

My heart melted and I knew I loved him more. Even if it didn’t end up being my perfect fairytale ending, even if he decided he would never be okay with it, I knew I made a right decision in loving him and wanting to stay.

Some things remained to be seen, but regardless, at least I knew that the man I loved, loved me enough to try to be open.

 Posted by at 7:12 pm
Apr 222013
 

Seen our # Orgasm Count on twitter? JohnDStories created the website, wonderfully keeps the scoreboard up-to-date, and made the most hilarious rule page based on our twitter-ings, not to mention sadly only one orgasm per session allowed.
Truly, I am just curious. So, how many orgasms do I really have…?

Mother and child an image of a sculpture by State Library of Queensland, AustraliaWeek Two:
Competition: 13                                                      Reality: 36

Interference: I have seen my husband perhaps twice this week – not two days, but twice as he passed out in bed right after waking me for sex, so there goes many opportunities for orgasms. After we were all sick last week, I also had kids’ practices to make up (so double driving around), a house in disarray, and a ton of other domestic stuff to make up for. This did not lend itself to really any masturbation time, as I fell into bed pretty much exhausted every night.

This is just a very honest posting of a challenged wife and mother. And as drab as this week has been, there’s also no interesting stories to share towards this count.

 Posted by at 1:47 am