The photo shoot with A went well, at least M thought so before A requested a little marking be made by M’s spouse!
Kink of the Week is talking dirty. But first, a Haiku (Senryu):
I’m on my stomach,
his hand gripped hair, finger in,
friction, no work up.
Rolled over, straddled,
slapped my labia, stinging,
pinched nipples, fingered.
“My fuck hole,” he cooed,
as he had sex with my throat,
he found a limit.
I’m choking; he warned:
“noise should be you cumming,”
then rolled me over.
His hand in my hair,
face pressed into the mattress,
he slid deep inside.
I take notes after an incredible experience. I took some notes and didn’t feel like making it into a 1,000 word post; I was lazy. So I turned my notes into a Haiku.
What made the experience incredible is the usage of the words “fuck hole” and being treated as such. To be perfectly honest, this idea came from my suggestion, as I share some writings that I find turn me on, and one of them was a woman being used and called such. He obviously read it (he doesn’t always), and decided to act on it.
It wasn’t the first time he has used this term, though it’s less than a handful still. But it was the first time he hit a limit with using me thus.
Talk about feeling like a fuck hole. He didn’t even apologize for choking me, he just reprimanded me for making so much noise with it and continued with the scene at the hand, rolling me over and using another hole for his pleasure.
Fortunately for me, I orgasmed instantly with his words, his actions, his taking. The words and the act were powerful because they were cemented together. It was so hot; it was so different from the day to day us.
My husband loves me, he cares for me in almost every action, and I know that I am the most important person in his life. So acts of pain or objectifying can be a challenge for him still – not dominating anymore, that comes easy to him now. But actions or words that seem in opposition of love come rarely; however, it is because he loves me so much that he gives me these actions. We reaffirm that I am okay with it and he is okay doing it in aftercare routines. (Part of the reason I think after care is important to us is that this is the moment he reassures me that he is truly okay hurting me, as it’s been a challenge and a lot of compromising to get us to this point. Sometimes I feel like I pushed him towards it, but he tells me that he also likes it in these moments, and tells me what is beautiful about me in dealing with it.)
Being a military couple, we are certainly used to being separated, and we will occasionally talk dirty to each other – but verbally I absolutely fail at this. If we have phone sex, it’s more him talking dirty as I moan as I bring myself to climax. Sexting, now I can do that.
But in person, we never really talk dirty to each other. I feel like we’re shifting, however, and will begin to incorporate this more; after all, he is very aware of the reaction my body has to these words.
“Fuck hole” may just very well be our gateway word into more dirty words during sexual acts. And being used as such, with those words, from time to time (I don’t think I would appreciate it the same if it was regularly done) is so desirable to me.
For all of us in the States, Happy Thanksgiving. There are quite a few things to be thankful for in regards to our blog.
Stranded in Toronto recently celebrated his third blogiversary, and acknowledged seven bloggers. What I love about him, however, is he did it his own damn creative way: by giving each blogger a colored lightsaber. We received purple (my favorite color): “purple for their creative…and dare I say two twitter-crushes of mine that I was very happy to meet at Eroticon USA in Atlanta last year. Their stories are fun and very creative…their pictures are ones that make it difficult to keep a guy’s laptop flat on his lap.”
If you haven’t read his incredible stories, I suggest you do so. He also hosts A Darker Flame.
Also, I just wanted to say thank you, ST, for your kind words. I had so much fun meeting you last year as well, and good to know that the laptop is in jeopardy from time to time. You definitely inspire my own writing, as I now am not afraid to go towards more Sci-Fi or the darker places in my erotica, and I have you to blame…erm, thank. And I’m excited to learn we celebrate our blogging anniversaries so closely together.
Molly’s Daily Kiss recognized us in her top twenty for the year, and from this powerhouse blogger, we are beyond humbled. Molly is such strong presence in the small community of sex bloggers, as she runs Elust and Sinful Sunday. I don’t know how she ever finds the time. She is always supportive, and gives fantastic constructive criticism; not to mention she has amazing photographs and writes some pretty hot stories. Her husband is also a wealth of information and always willing to help others with tech advice.
When we met her, it was certainly a fangirl moment for both of us sisters. And she posed something I hadn’t fully realized: we are the only siblings that we know of that blog together: “I think this blog is completely different in the sex blogging world, but if I am wrong please do let me know, because to the best of my knowledge this is the only sex blog written by siblings. A and M are sisters. M is a military wife and A is single (ish) and between them they write about their various relationships, kinks, experiences with a smattering is really good erotic fiction thrown into the mix. If you are new to their blog make sure you check out the ‘about’ pages about each sister as they will give you a great insight into both ladies and their respective lives. I have been reading this blog for a while but this last year has really seen them settle down into their blogging style which is one that I find myself increasingly enjoying.”
My Sex Life with Lola was gracious enough to give us this sexy Bad Girl Bloggers award. What I love about this and Molly’s list is that giving a list of bloggers is not only recognizing those that they enjoy but they also open up the potential to find someone new to enjoy reading. I love this community, and am thrilled to be recognized on any list; I also go through any list I come across to discover new people to read and support. We are truly a small, but supportive, community. HH and Lola not only support us with comments, but they listed a whole 25 bloggers to discover, where the rules only ask for 3-5.
Already I am seeing many bloggers reaching out and tipping their hat to others. To help discover new bloggers, I’m naming those and one more seasoned blogger who hasn’t received this award, yet. It is no way even close to those I read all the time, and I started at the beginning of the alphabet and only choose three. In the spirit of making lists and supporting others, the rules for this badge are:
RULES: If you are a recipient, please choose 3-5 female bloggers who write about sex (or post sexy pics of them selves, or both) that you admire and award them by passing on the award photo above and the rules. Also, give a brief explanations of why you love those bloggers so much. Be sure to notify your favorite bloggers that they got the award!
A Sexy Woman of a Certain Age She writes: “I’m a 52-year-old divorcee living in Los Angeles, where the streets are lined with sparkly young women. When my marriage ended after twenty years of unfulfilling, vanilla sex, I figured my chances for a sexual awakening were slim.” I found her through a recommendation of another blogger, and fell in love with her honesty and self reflection. She’s new to me, so perhaps others can find and discover her blog.
Curvaceous Dee is certainly not new, and is exceptional at Scavenger Hunts, as both a participant and host. I love her photos, every single one shows a happily confident and beautifully sexy woman. She was one of the first to support our blog with comments, and is such an amazing person, so I wanted to recognize her even though Molly has already done so. I sincerely appreciate her presence in this community.
Evie the Rabbit is also new to me, she writes: “I am a slut, and this is a wonderful, beautiful thing, and there is no shame in this, there is no shame in my journey, and there is only beauty in opening my arms and welcoming lovers in between my thighs.” I like her self reflection. I find myself turned on by erotica, but what goes on in self contemplation makes me relate to the writer. She analyzes quite a bit, and I find myself relating. What is so funny is that while this post was waiting a few days in draft, Evie nominated us!
**I would also like to let Molly, Stranded in Toronto, and My Sex Life With Lola know that I am an avid reader of theirs and if I made a top list, they would be included.
**The list that started it all was Rori’s from Between My Sheets, who tirelessly creates a list of 100 bloggers to discover whom create great content on a taboo (there’s a reason many wish to remain anonymous) topic.
He shoved me up against the wall, hand to my throat. I could barely make out his features in the night. The dark street was devoid of people. Faint music from businesses further on drifted on the night air, but I doubted any sound I made would carry so far.
I slapped his face with all of the strength I could muster. His hand tightened around my neck and he kissed me with almost as much violence as was delivered in my slap. I melted into his grasp and kissed him back with just as much fury. His free hand slid up my skirt and I heard the delicate fabric of my panties rip. I felt them begin to slide down in tatters just as I felt his strong fingers probe for my clit. I knew he could feel my arousal. My eyes rolled back then quickly snapped to focus, glancing around to make sure we were still alone in the dark.
His mouth drifted to the exposed cleavage of my dress, and the bite he delivered caused me to whimper. His fingers were causing my muscles to spasm and grow weak. Another rip sounded in my ear as he decided the part of my breasts exposed was not enough. His tongue flicked against my nipple as he seized his prize. His mouth was hot and wet as he used his teeth to illicit more moans. His hand moved from my neck to my hair as he yanked my head back.
His gaze was intense as he took in the pleasure written all over my face. “Be a good girl, and get on your knees”. The pressure of his grasp in my hair started pulling downwards and I was not proof against the insistence of his hands and the look in his eyes. I dropped to my knees and eagerly began undoing his pants. The tug at my hair increased my arousal and my lips watered in anticipation.
His arousal was just as evident as mine as it throbbed before my eyes. I wrapped my lips around him and heard his breath drawn in. I greedily took in every inch of him, always wanting more. Both hands in my hair now, he started thrusting his hips and I encouraged him in my thoughts. More. I barely felt the hard ground beneath my knees, my every thought focused on him.
He suddenly yanked my hair upwards, his other hand going back to my throat. Again I was thrown against the building, but this time he followed me with his body. My leg wrapped around his hip and my hair was released as he lifted my other. I was now supported between him and the wall as he plunged into me. His mouth came to mine and absorbed my cry. His hips thrust into me with voracious desire, and I squeezed him with my arms and my legs, wanting more. My body was at a fevered pitch as I grew closer to climax. The exposure and risk of our very public coupling only intensifying the pleasure.
I cried out, and dug into his back with my nails, as the release rushed through my body. My muscles relaxed automatically but it didn’t hamper his motions. His breath became ragged in my ear. He dropped my legs forcefully, his hand pressing me down again, and I knew what he wanted. I dropped quickly to my knees again and took him in my mouth. The taste of me mingled with the taste of him as he came in my mouth. He thrust deep to ensure I got every drop of his orgasm.
His hand smoothed down my hair and he whispered “That’s my good girl”. He gently helped me from my knees, kissed my forehead, and tucked me under his arm as we started down the street. Just a couple of young lovers, out for a stroll, because no one saw what happened down that dark street.
A long long time ago… well actually 2 years exactly, I was visiting M for Thanksgiving. She pulled me over to the computer and showed me a bunch of sex blogs she had been reading.
My family has always been open about sex. It’s one thing that makes us unique to a lot of people we know. Our mother raised us to not be ashamed of sex, and always be safe and enjoy ourselves. So M and I knew everything about each other’s sex lives, and we had both shared things about sex we’d written before.
After showing several fabulous, tantalizing blogs, she turned to me and said “I think we could do this, ourselves”. She was very excited about the idea. Being a military spouse, she had been made to move to an area where she didn’t know anyone, and was isolated from other spouses. She needed an outlet, and this was perfect. She wanted to do it, and she specifically wanted to blog with me. She plied me with flattery about my writing skills, and also talked about how much easier it would be with two of us. This was something we could do together and bond with, because we didn’t get to see each other as often as we should. I asked a few more questions, and realized that yes, this was something we could totally do.
Now came the hard part.
We had to figure out what to call our blog. We went through a million names, most of them horrible. Uniforms and lingerie? Two sisters, one blog? It got quite silly. Finally, in a burst of genius I said “Cammies on the Floor”. It worked. It felt like it belonged. The perspective we were writing from was that of sex and military life. The extra interesting fact about it is, we’re sisters. It was unique, and it was us.
From there we started figuring out how to even create a blog, what kind of content we wanted, and a vague direction we wanted to go in. Thanks to M’s voracious reading of other blogs she knew quite a lot to start. The rest, as they say, is history. We have grown so much and spread out, and it is amazing the community we have been able to be a part of.
It’s you, reading this, that has gotten through two years, inspired us to grow, challenged us to write different things, think outside the box, and has inspired us. In celebration, I thought I’d share the story of us, and M has made a special montage of pictures throughout the years.
Lots of love, and dirty thoughts,
We’ve been blogging for two years now! A thought a photo montage of the past two years we’ve been blogging would be a fitting tribute.
For our first year, we went through what we participated in, with a quick review on highlights that others recognized. Unfortunately, we aren’t toy reviewers, so no cool give-away. But still, thank you for supporting us on our journey!
Have I mentioned that my husband makes all the rope? And of course, he just had to make sure that my mouth was at a level equal to his crotch?
So many small thoughts and moments I want to mention, no real moment has jumped and claimed me, more like moments keep going past:
Pajama Pants I was kissing the side of his neck. We were still dressed, laying in bed. He had his phone in his hands and wasn’t taking my subtle hint that I wanted sex, or he was just pretending to ignore my desire. My hands roamed, and I unbuttoned his shirt, slowly, enjoying the revealing of the broad expanse of chest. My tongue would trail and explore the newly exposed skin. He questioned if I wanted anything. He began talking of daily, casual things. I ignored him, loved and savored the unique taste of him. I reached his pants and went for the button, and he talked louder. I stopped and looked up at him. His smile was mischievious.
Two could play. I sat up and took off my pants. Then I twisted the legs on them, reached for his head, and shoved the pants in, tying it around. My makeshift gag worked pretty good, if his muffled confusion was any indication. And his eyes widened at surprise. “You should be felt and not heard,” I stated, before going back to unbuttoning.
I think I heard a “fuck you” behind the gag. He put his phone down. Before I even fully took off his pants, I licked up his shaft and wrapped my mouth around his penis; his hand went to my head and pushed, trying to make me gag on it. I pulled up forcefully, something I don’t do, and went to his nipple and bit it. He yelped. He hated that. And of course, he had to test that if he tried to force my mouth deeper if I would do it again.
Of course I did. But he wouldn’t let me bite his nipple again. As I tried, he yanked my hair and pulled me off of him. He rolled us where he was now covering my body, one hand in my hair, the other taking off the gag.
The gag went around me, my clothes were quickly discarded, and my nipples treated to a bit of abuse. And then my body alternated between pleasure and pain as he started that rhythm that brought me calm in his control.
Arts and Crafts Part of our new impact play has been the creation of new toys by my husband. My house is now littered with projects, the garage has piles of sawdust. It reminds me of a lego minefield that the kids create whenever my husband is home all day on a weekend. I am excited he’s found such an intricate and time consuming hobby that he can be passionate about, and I am the recipient of the creations. But his more sadist side – one I wasn’t even sure existed, is coming to the fore and now I am testing my own threshold for daily pain. We don’t play hard every day, but the new impact toys are certainly making me remember the play sessions, especially every time I sit down.
Part of his experimenting has also been trying to find a chest harness for suspension that works well with me. I’m sure we’ll get this figured out, and we’ll talk to experienced riggers, but the two times he has suspended me I’ve now had bruises wrapped around my chest. It is getting better, and it’s a work in progress. I am vocal, but my biggest issue is I don’t feel any discomfort right away.
His bedroom bondage in general is getting more intricate, and yet at times more simplistic. Some lazy nights, he goes for simpler, and faster ties. I love the impatience to have sex and the lack of waiting. Other nights, he takes his time and creates beautiful ties. I also want a camera on those nights, and relax with the knowledge that it’s going to be a long, lovely scene.
Wee Bit of Drama After sex and cleaning up, I informed him that I was bleeding. This is not uncommon, so neither of us care much, he’s a bit too big for me. Still, it’s not a daily occurence. He muttered a sleepy apology, already falling asleep. I rolled up against his back, pressed my chest into his warm body, threw one arm over as much as I could, played with his ring on his finger. I didn’t want him to sleep yet. “It’s probably because it’s been awhile since we had sex,” I clarified, waited. He didn’t stir. I poked a bit more, “after all, it’s been ages.”
If a smile can be heard, I believe I did. “Yep, ages. Years, even.”
“I know!” I wailed.
He chuckled, “I love you.”
Okay, so I was being a wee bit dramatic, but two days felt like forever for me, and I needed to remind him that I feel that way so hopefully it doesn’t happen again.
I’m a flirt. It kinda seems to run in my family. I think I learned from the best because I know of no better flirt than M. Although she seems tiny and quiet, you get her going and she could charm the pants off anyone.
We’re both equal opportunity flirts. Meaning girl parts or boy parts, you’re going to get flirted with. I’m straight, or as it says on my fet page: heteroflexible. I’d include a girl at the behest of my partner, but they don’t do anything for me sexually. I love the strip club and can appreciate a beautiful woman, but again, I don’t get sexual gratification from them. As far as I know, M pretty much follows the same lines.
Yet, to watch both of us, we flirt way harder with women. Perhaps because it is safe. Most of the time our flirting is harmless banter, and maybe we feel more free with that because other women (who know we’re straight) don’t take that as anything BUT harmless banter. I must say, I’ve appreciated the blurred lines with men sometimes. Opportunities have arisen where I had no idea they would, simply because the man took the banter and used it as initiative.
There’s a seedy underworld to being a natural flirt however. Jealousy being the biggest. I’ve seen it directed at both M and I from women whose partners, or even just interests, we’ve inadvertently flirted with. I’ve noticed it far more with M than I. I’ve a few theories about this: M flirts with the ease and frequency as one does breathing, and she doesn’t realize it. If M doesn’t realize she’s flirting, she definitely doesn’t pick up on 3rd party social cues about jealousy. It’s an emotion she doesn’t really experience herself. People naturally gravitate towards M and her bubbly, easy to like personality. I’ve really yet to meet anyone who doesn’t like her, except those who get jealous over her.
Then there’s the other side. I’ve had an especially hard time dealing with some of my partners who have felt threatened, especially because I enjoy open relationships, so this flirting isn’t seen as harmless. It’s viewed as pursuit. I’m very envious of M and the relationship she has with her spouse. He knew he was getting a flirt when he married her, and not only is tolerant, he encourages her to be her flirty, bubbly self. I’ve yet to be so fortunate. At best I’ve had a don’t ask, don’t tell policy. They know I do it, it’s just better that it not be anywhere near them.
It’s natural for people to flirt. Especially in the kink community. Most of my socializing is in the fet community, and there’s no WAY you could get a group of kinky people together without that kink coming up. That’s also where I’ve experienced the most virulent hatred from jealousy. The strange double standards that exist among some people in the community really boggles my mind.
So although we do it, it’s naturally. It’s harmless, and M and I are both blunt enough that if we’re inviting you to bed, you’ll know it.
1. When I can’t sleep I often wake my husband for sex . (Of course, he doesn’t always wake up.)
2. My dream bedroom would be full of sex toys, rope, and tie off points .
3. If I could wake up anywhere tomorrow it would be someplace with warmth and people I love .
4. I need to have warm toes in order to sleep at night.
5. Not having things to be grateful for would truly be a nightmare.
6. Night time is the right time to sleep, the day is for everything else .
Bonus: Briefly tell us about your last dream–erotic or not.
I had a nightmare that I was being hit by balls flying at me, and with no depth perception, I couldn’t tell how close they were until they hit me.
How to play TMI Tuesday: Copy the above TMI Tuesday questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there, then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link totmituesdayblog from your website!
Happy TMI Tuesday!