Sep 182016
 

img_2927Mr Texas didn’t want me going out to another event. It would have been the third day in a row, and he didn’t have his kids for the week, so he wanted time with me. I suggested we go to a kink event together, he asked that we come up with a list non kink related.

“Fine, I come up with one, you come up with one, and we make a list that we try to accomplish the remainder of the days until the kids come home.” He suggested a movie, which I immediately shot down. “Watching a movie isn’t really spending time together, I would rather go off and do something else. Think of spending time together since that what you said you wanted.”

I suggested a board game that I introduced him to, that we’re pretty even on winning. He was good with that.

He suggested cooking something together in the kitchen. I envisioned dancing to music and kisses in between. I agreed to that.

I needed pictures taken for Sinful Sunday, that required his help. He agreed to it.

He suggested hot tub sex again, then sex against a low part of his fence where there’s a trail that people walk, so a chance someone might see us. That was one I had to mull over, but decided there might be a time or a situation that I might agree to. I don’t ever wish to be seen, and public sex is unappealing to me.

…Board game in with laughter and teasing, far too many drinks and not a real dinner since we opted for chips while inebriated. We played until the board became a bit too confusing to our soggy brains, opted for the hot tub. The hot tub and a drink had always been our fall back – since date two, and it was something we both thoroughly enjoyed.

As I walked down the steps into the steamy water, his hands gripped my shoulders and pulled my body against his body immediately, his chest hairs tickling my cleavage as the water slid between our skin. He pushed my back and shoulders against the side wall, the step to sit on buckling my knees, parted my legs with his hips where they naturally wanted to wrap around anyhow, and slid right in. My body was ready for him, the warm water no deterrent as wet as I was, and the heels of my feet hooked around his waist to keep the contact as he thrusted up. My shoulders hit the side of the wall and prevented that aggressive action from launching me out in the cold night air. I gripped his shoulders and impaled myself further down his hardened length, he hit the back of my wall and I welcomed the pain as the water swirled around our bodies. The head of his cock rubbed at a delicious place at the unusual angle the water afforded us, but after some minutes, he pulled out.

I couldn’t contain a sound of complaint and my surprise at the unexpected action, my body so tense from anticipating an orgasm.

“Let’s go,” he said, pointed towards the fence very visible with the outdoor lights that he has on in his backyard.

I gulped, hesitated. I had envisioned us fucking against the fence in the early morning hours, when few people are out and were less likely to see us. In the blackness of the night, there probably weren’t any people out walking the trail, but I wouldn’t know – and with the backyard lit up so well, and that portion of the fence at a higher platform, we would be a huge beacon on a stage that people would be able to see.

I didn’t move so with a hand on my ass he boosted me up a step out of the protection of the water, and my feet shuffled towards the stairs to reach the entertainment area of his gorgeous back yard…and that low fence. He stopped me on the first stair, a hand on my shoulder and another on my hip, and bent me slowly over so my hands reached a higher step. With my feet on the first step, I was tall enough for him to enter bent over and he did…right under a light.

Masturbation Monday badge - smallHow visible were we to the darkness? We were under a spotlight but was there an audience?

To continue this story, click here. 

 

Sep 082016
 

*Time to return back to Mr. Texas…after all, I never did finish telling this chapter of my life, the drafts waiting because my ex husband didn’t wish to see the story.  

Mr. Texas is extremely ticklish. Everywhere, all the time.

I can’t handle not having my way with his body, how even giving him head is a challenge because while it feels good, it also tickles him – so he says, and he stops me quite a bit.

Not a thing I’m used to.

He made the mistake of telling me: “you just can’t go soft,” referring to the kisses I was trying to trail around his chest.

“Oh I can go hard,” I smiled down at him and then bit him right above the nipple where his chest muscle gave me plenty to sink my teeth into.

“That’s not what I meant,” he protested, so I clenched down tighter.

“Nope,” I released him, looked at my imprints in his flesh, and embraced it fully. “Too late, I’m playing and you’re my chew toy.” I leaned down and licked softly over the divots, my tongue washing against the redness, listening to his moan and smiling into his skin with satisfaction. I bit down next to the mark, staking new territory, and alternated nibbling and sucking in an arc across his chest muscle.

I could tell he didn’t know if he liked it or not; pain of any sort in the bedroom was a slow process, but towards the center of his chest he gave every indication of liking it a bit more, so I bit down harder in those focused places.

My hand gripped the front of his throat softly, a presence felt and not threatening, my forefinger and thumb moved to the jaw line and pushed his head to the side. I laid half my body on top of him and bit down where neck and shoulder met towards the back. His shoulders came up in defense but I bit down harder and made a noise that argued, my hand a bit tighter to his throat.

He relaxed under me. “My chew toy,” I whispered as I nibbled and sucked along the dip of his neck from shoulder to ear.

“Don’t leave a mark,” he warned.

“I won’t, I’m pretty good at going hard and not,” I assured him in between nips and bites. I alternated the sensations, making his neck a temporary and thoroughly loved red before switching sides.

I loved listening to his sounds, his sharp intake of breath, the way his shoulders and neck rolled and stretched under my mouth, the way his hands fought the urge to push against my body to remove me and ended up gripping me and pulling me closer intermittently.

I moved lower. “Time to see if you like this bit,” I breathed on the head of his cock and he sat up. I laughed and gripped his thigh, my nails digging in. “Relax. I’m teasing, I wouldn’t,” I reassured as one hand pushed on his marked chest to have him lay back, the other hand menacingly pressing nails into his flesh and muscle on the inside of his thigh if he didn’t obey.

He laid down and my tongue swept across the fleshy top, tasted his precum, before swirling haphazardly around the head and under the ridge. My mouth didn’t even come close to closing in on him – I wouldn’t bite but I wouldn’t please either.

I moved to the inside of his thigh, my tongue replacing my nails and tasting the slightly metallic taste of where nails truly imprinted. I was gentle and caressed a wet trail, leaned back a bit and blew some cold air on the reddened divots, so small they were barely discernible. My hot mouth crashed over the cold area and I sucked and nibbled, and when he moved too much, bit along the inside of his thighs.

Gently, I moved to his balls and took one in my mouth, rolling the thicker part with my tongue. He arched and gasped and I increased the pressure just slightly before moving to the other.

Things after all have to be equal, I figured.

So his other thigh also got treated to my rough administrations.

I straddled him and slowly positioned the tip at my entrance as I nibbled at his neck again. “Just the tip, that’s a fun game, right?”

He groaned and tried to slam his hips up and force the issue, but under my body I felt the tension and moved with him, keeping contact but adjusting so he slid along my wet slit in case I miscalculated how far he would rise.

I bit down hard on his neck. “Stay down. This is my game, chew toy.”

Again, I positioned him rolled my hips so that the thickness of his head rotated around my entrance, barely sliding in. I watched his face as I felt my own sensitivity and the torment that I viewed encouraged me to delay my own sensations towards pleasure when his frustration was far more intriguing.

My darling Mr. Texas has been learning a thing or two, however, and after a few minutes, when he had obviously had enough, he gripped my hair and arched me painfully back, slamming up into me to the hilt.

He kept his painful pressure in my hair as I wildly rode him, my body clenched and drenched around his own orgasm.

Aug 142016
 

So with my husband and I reconciling, one of the first things on his list was anal play for him. He hadn’t experienced it in months and I think that he was even made to feel that it was viewed negatively in some regard.

He missed it.

He had thrown out all the toys that he was in possession of that we had split, so we no longer had the very cool dildo that went beautifully with our harness (and also fit inside of me with vibrations); I was still in possession of the harness. So, off we went to a sex store where we found just a standard dildo that the harness would hold in. It was more malleable than the other dildo, which actually helped cut down on me accidentally hurting him; the downside is when I really got going it would slip out a little easier. It was also lighter, so while nothing was inserted into me, at least it stayed put in the harness a bit better.

Armed and ready, we were going to try pegging again.

Actually, it was a scene that I was giving him with pegging so he laid down tied in the center of the bed with a pillow under his bottom. I started with softer sensations (he dislikes pain of any kind). My hands would roam and my mouth was active the whole time:

tongues danced together with gentle caresses reaquainting fingertips with his body, soft sighs and a building of passion and love and trust;

blindfolding him with a soft leather strip so he could focus more on the physical sensations and less visually, my mouth hovering above his own as my tongue darting out to trace his lips as he tried to catch a kiss;

brushing his skin with feathers as my mouth would roam and suck at delectable areas that incited moans;

using stinging flicks of a toy as my teeth would nibble and occasionally bite, causing goosebumps and pinkened marks to appear across his body;

taking the tines of the wheel and traversing across his body as teeth would sink into muscles, causing him to jump or take sharp intakes of breath as he worked through the brief flashes of pain;
an ice cube melted in my mouth as my tongue swept across his reddened areas, cooling down the heated flesh right before I would drip hot wax from a candle, reheating the area and giving a contrast.

When I increased the sensations in roughness, I also took less care of tenderness – kissing him less, manhandling him more. When he would try to move away from a sensation, my hand was around his neck or my elbows were digging into a pressure point to keep him still, with a warning that he soon heeded to stay still and work through accepting the sensations. A black hood (a new toy of mine) with just an opening for the mouth was pulled over his face, effectively turning him more of an object that I was toying with and a mouth to fuck, as I immediately told him to stick out his tongue so I could straddle and fuck his face. I made sure to press my hips down every so often to make his breathing a little more labored as he brought me pleasure.
It wasn’t long before I placed on a glove, a lot of lube on one finger, positioned myself between his legs, and then my mouth teased the tip of his erection as I slowly circled his anus before inserting the finger. As my finger moved deeper into his body, my mouth moved lower down his shaft. Two fingers increased my sucking, which moved at the same time of my fingers – down and in, up and out. Three fingers – a bit trickier as my pinky always seems to be in the way, my tongue swirled around the ridges of his head as I inserted before attempting to deep throat him as my fingers tried to fill his body.

He sighed and moaned and groaned, his hips occasionally tried to thrust up and welcome the sensations even further. He was so hard in my mouth, occasionally pulsing at a delicious part, hitting the back of my throat at times, his muscle clenching around my fingers as they curled slightly, explored, slid in and out.
I decreased the sensations before stopping, taking off my glove and moving up his body, briefing sliding my own body to where he was inside of me and grinding on top of him while I took off his hood and kissed back his humanness. I kissed the sides of his neck as I took off his blindfold, slowing rotating my hips rather than fucking him roughly, leaned down to passionately kiss him before I slowly unraveled him to freedom, wanting him to have full use of his hands and legs. His hands immediately went to my hips to fuck us to pleasure, but I removed myself off him and told him to put me in the harness.
Less than a minute later I was again between his legs, liberally applying lubrication on my dildo, positioning it at his entrance. He seemed surprised that rather than enter him, I leaned forward and kissed him, pressing my body down on his own and telling him how much I loved him. Then I leaned up and carefully entered him, watching his face closely in between the toy disappearing into his depths. He gave me verbal feedback the whole way in, positive that it felt good, that it wasn’t hurting, that he could take more. When I was all the way in, I praised him as I leaned forward for a kiss again before straightening up and slowly easing out and then in. One hand stroked his cock and the other caressed his balls. Masturbation Monday Week 102

Soon I was fucking him, both hands gripping his hips like he so often did to me to have more leverage and go as deep as I could, and his own hand was stroking himself. I slipped out a couple of times, but eventually his body tensed and his hips lifted as his hand slowed while white spurts shot across his chest with his orgasm. It was a magnificent sight; it was verbally decadent to hear his sounds; it was incredible to create and be a part of.

I finished the scene for him with a warm wash cloth, cleaned the beautiful white streaks and hardened candle wax off his skin, had him sit up for a drink of water before rolling over so I could wipe off the excess of lube between his cheeks. I had a candle going of massage wax the whole time and poured enough over his broad expanse of back, rubbing his muscles and feeling any residue tension leave his body, before using another warm wash cloth to remove any oil that didn’t soak into his skin. I covered him with a blanket as he laid so peacefully and heard him snore before I even left the room to clean up our toys. Masturbation Monday badge - small

 

 

Aug 042016
 

Masturbation Monday badge - smallMy husband and I are still separated by distance as we attempt to repair our relationship, but we see each other on weekends, with phone and video calls getting us through the rest of the week. I requested he make me a video of himself masturbating so I could watch it during horny or missing moments.

He gave me a live show from the shower, his body soapy and slick as he ran his hands up and down over his skin, and stroked himself. My fingers drifted to the passion his vision created; I made sure he could see exactly what he inspired. We masturbated together.

When we were done, I again reminded about wanting the video. He told me he would (and did later that night), but that I needed to also make him a video by the next day.

We are already getting right back into the power dynamics, apparently, as he knew that making a video would be a challenge for me, so warned that there was a consequence if I didn’t. Unfortunately, not because I hesitated but just because I was busy that following day – I forgot.

I thought it was just a live show I put on for him as punishment, I was wrong…

He told me to lay a few out of my sexier (what he considered sexy, not me, learning from last time) clothes, take a picture, and he would decide what I was wearing. This was my first clue that he would be completely in charge and I was to have no say. Next, I did the same of my lingerie including stockings, then of the Doxy wand’s attachments. When he received all the pictures, he gave me a detailed list of items to have readily available and what to wear: lingerie under clothes, stockings, vibrator, wand with attachment.

I already strongly disliked this punishment, already it was more effort than just sending a video would have been.

When he called me that night, he told me to pick out music and strip dance, but to keep on the lingerie. Ugh, I didn’t want to move to music while he watched live, I couldn’t hit delete if I looked like an idiot. I’m sure I looked like a deer in the headlights as I slowly peeled out of the outer clothes.

He wasn’t messing around with the whole punishment concept either, as the next order was to play with myself – already not an easy task with an audience. He was specific with giving him a teasing view of my breasts as I caressed them still wearing the silky lingerie, of lifting the bottom of the fabric with one hand as my other hand’s fingers teased and felt my wetness despite my embarrassment. “Insert one finger,” he would occasionally stroke himself so I was aware of his reaction to his show, “add another one.” I was a puppet, his to command. “Go deeper.” “Watch my fingers,” and he would curl and stroke the air the way he wanted my fingers to move deep in my own body. The man sure did know how I liked to be fingered, and I begged to cum, though he stopped me before I reached climax.

“Edge yourself with the wand,” I hesitated and he gave me a look that brook no argument. He wanted me to lay it on the bed and straddle it, in essence riding it. The attachment was already on and I slid my body on top of it. He wanted me to start on low and the vibrations felt so amazing to my already worked body. He told me to pinch at my nipples as I felt the pleasure between my thighs, and slowly he added another speed, eventually bringing the wand to high, commanding me to with hold from an orgasm – I pleaded with him to change his mind and give me some release. When I became far too overwhelmed and couldn’t resist, I jumped off of it, my chest heaving from the effort, beginning to sweat from the tension. He praised me, had me slowly and gently caress my body through the silky lingerie, and then edge myself again with the wand. I must’ve given him a look, because he followed through with a threat, and I begrudgingly straddled the toy again, immediately asking for an orgasm. Much quicker this time, I jumped off it, an orgasm threatening my overworked body.

My fingers would eventually be called on to bring me to an orgasm, again he set the tempo and the motion of how I was finger myself, promising that I would finally find my pleasure. I was to lay on the bed, my stocking legs spread to give him the best view, leaning up on one elbow so he could view my face. “Harder,” he would urge, “really fuck yourself,” and, “you can go deeper… you won’t be allowed to cum unless you really give it your best effort,” finally followed by the order, “cum”. Oh how my body and mind remember that word uttered from his mouth. The sound traveled across miles, from one receiver to another, and hit my body like thunder. I squirted, my fingers and wrist coated from the force, the bottom of my lingerie and the bed catching the drops of the tensioned storm.

Masturbation Monday Week 101I was gasping for breaths, great heaving intakes as if I had run the vast distance to him.

But this wasn’t the finale I thought it was, oh no! He had already pushed so many comfort zones in this punishment, already assured us both that I wouldn’t forget so easily next time, but he wasn’t done yet with me.

 

Aug 022016
 

Wicked WednesdayShe knew he was working, but they still wanted to be near each other. So when she entered his office, she wasn’t surprised that he was on the phone behind his desk. He smiled and gestured her over, standing up and coming around the desk. He put an arm around her and positioned her facing the desk, taking one wrist and placing it palm down on the edge of the desk. She put the other one there herself, trying to be accommodating while he worked. He lifted her skirt and caressed her bottom through the lacy underwear she wore.

She looked over her shoulder at him and he winked at her. Somehow all the more naughty of a gesture because he was on an important business call.

He finished the call after a few minutes, caressing her the rest of the call. When he put down the phone, he told her to go to the conference table on the other side of the room. He moved the chair on the end and she perched up against the edge, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him deeply. When he broke off the kiss after some moments, he undressed her slowly, taking advantage of the time he had in between phone calls. His mouth followed the paths of fabric falling down or rising above her luscious body. She felt shy to be naked in an office, but she had locked the door behind her and did as he asked.

He kissed and tweaked her nipples as she gasped at the pleasure/pain that sent currents deep within her. He leaned her back slowly, her bare skin pressed back onto the cold glass table. His fingers wasted no time in plunging into her wet body, curling upwards and moving at a tempo that he knew all too well would bring her to orgasm. Her moans and body arching told him he was close, and when he felt her body tighten around his fingers, he withdrew.

She sat up whining her displeasure. He tried to look wide eyed and innocent. “What? I need to get on another call.” He smiled and winked at her, grabbed a small chocolate from the candy dish in the center of the table, unwrapped the foil and popped the sweet morsel in her mouth; “no noise from you,” he teased, then turned and went back to the desk, throwing the order, “stay there,” behind his shoulder where she laid so temptingly close. He initiated the call, and walked back to her, loving the view of her legs spread, her ankles resting on the edge of the surface and her knees bent. He walked alongside her body, his fingertips beginning at her foot and tracing the path up to the side of her face. His thumb brushed against her plump bottom lip and she smiled before sucking it into her mouth.

She could be the tease as well and her eyes seemed to threaten that as much as her mouth promised.

He pushed a button to mute the call and pinched a nipple in response. Just as he guessed, she yelped in protest. He again placed another chocolate on her tongue to replace his thumb, his finger pressed against both of her lips in a quiet signal before hitting sound, made a comment towards the call, halfheartedly listening, then hit mute at a time where he felt the people on the other line were going to be continue without him, stepping up to her body and rolling a nipple between his thumb and forefinger before rolling her clit with the same thumb. He watched her eyes go to half mast and her breathing become more shallow at the pleasurable sensation.

Unfortunately, the call seemed to require him again as he spun around and again engaged in conversation. He stayed on until it ended, checked the time, and decided he had enough time to bring her to orgasm for waiting so patiently…for a price. He noticed that there were a few more colorful candy wrappers littering the table. She always did have a sweet tooth and felt that he was just as guilty in craving her body – he just couldn’t resist.

He pulled out some binder clips used to hold stacks of paper from his desk drawer and then rolled the chair to face between her legs. Such a great leveled view. In anticipation of him there, she spread her legs slightly wider, not seeing the clips in his hand. He placed one on the outside edge of her lip, and the pinch caused her to cry out in surprise. A finger dipped in and soothed her with pleasure before he grasped the other lips and carefully pinched more of the lip lining right at her entrance. Even slick, it held and from her noises he knew that it pinched painfully. Even more carefully, he placed a smaller clip on the hood and her noises told him that he was pushed the limit with the location. His thumb again thrummed against her button, the small clip  bobbing with the motion.

She whined as both pleasure and pain rolled through her body. His fingers slowly eased into her, his hand brushing against the clips on either side of her entrance and added contrasting sensations. It hurt and continued to become more painful as he moved more assertively, and yet the pleasure built and she felt her body become more tense to welcome the gathering orgasm.

She tightened around his fingers and he made sure that his hand spread to push the clips more fully, adding more pinch during the height of her orgasm. She cried out as her pleasure coated his fingers, and with his other hand, he removed the small clip on her hood. She whimpered and he curled his fingers. She moaned. He removed the clip on her inner lip, hoped that the haze coming down from her orgasm was still present to make the pain a bit more tolerable, and smiled at her reaction.

He loved how reactionary she was.

The last clip came off before he withdrew his fingers. He leaned forward and praised her as he kissed her lips, the smell of chocolate from her breath mingling with her wet scent an aphrodisiac to him, then regretfully turned towards his computer and phone to take another conference call. She sure did make conference calls a lot more interesting.

Jul 292016
 

Masturbation Monday badge - smallGarrett tied Tanya’s wrists to the sides of the head board, stretched one side too far where the shoulder wasn’t down. This would be his second time trying to tie her for sex, their first couple of months exploring kink. Experience from last time taught her that shoulders would fatigue if they weren’t down, so she requested he loosen the rope a bit so her shoulders rested comfortably down, adding that her wrists up were fine. Feedback, people kept telling them, was important.

He used the same type of tie around her ankles, stringing it down to the opposite sides of the footboard to spread her legs, using the extra rope to retie into the extra rope on bed posts that restrained her wrists. She thought that was very clever, how he was already modifying from last time and now if she attempted to move either the lower limbs or upper limbs they would pull. Tanya recalled people called this predicament.

She was now spread open naked, a position that made her shiver in anticipation and felt vulnerable in an appreciated way as it assisted the mind set Garrett wanted to achieve.

Before they played with rope, they already learned that a blindfold always helped that mindset as well, so Garrett slipped one on. Then he saw the bits of the rope along the bed and had an idea to alternate whipping her thighs with them. He smiled at her surprised jerk and yelp, finding so much entertainment in the action that he did both thighs a few more times. He caressed her thighs where he had just marked her, tracing the slightly pink imprints and thinking that they should work up to red welts to one day mark her gorgeous skin. Of course, his hands couldn’t resist her magnificent breasts, his hands fully cupping her soft, small globes. He liked her sounds of impact, he decided, and whipped where his hands just left, cautiously at first. She sighed into the sensations of softness and gasped at the sting of the tips.

He teased with kisses and caresses, fingertips trailing paths across her skin, occasionally pinching a nipple or slapping at the inside of a tied thigh.

Then, he gently slapped her vulva. She took a quick intake of breath. “Oh, you like that,” he sounded delighted. He gently slapped a few more times and she jerked in response.

“Who said you can move?” For someone that was new to this, he wanted to make damn sure she knew who was in control. He gripped the outsides of the leg rope and pulled taut to spread her further, the strands of rope dug into her skin in a painful way that for some reason she really liked. He adjusted the rope slightly so that she was stuck in that position; making a mental note for next time they did this.

She felt something like a cold water bottle press against her wet lips that were still stinging, at least that’s what she guessed based on seeing him carry one into the bedroom prior to playing. She wanted to escape the cold sensation and yet it felt so good against how hot he made her there.

Masturbation Monday Week 100 Garrett’s fingers warmed up where the bottle was, his thumb circling her clit to madness before fingertips traced ever so slightly, barely felt but for the brushing of Tanya’s short pubic hair. Suddenly he thrusted two fingers in and quickly created so much pleasure, but withdrew them right before an orgasm.

Ugh, had she actually suggested this idea was hot? In the moment, orgasm denial was hard for her to deal with, though afterwards she would smile in remembrance. She whined her disappointment.

Fingers again became aggressive inside, this time he allowed a full orgasm to slam into her body, watched her body tense, listened to her breathing and moans in satisfaction, felt her clench upon his fingers and fluid coat them. She was so beautiful in this moment it almost took his own breath away.

But he had a job to do, so quickly slapped at her inner thighs with his other hand when he believed that she was at the crest, hard. He had never heard that noise come from her before, would have to ask afterwards how she felt.

He slid his hips between her thighs and slowly entered her. She wanted to wrap her legs around him to increase his pace but couldn’t – an odd feeling. He leaned down and close to her face, rained down soft kisses and loving praises against her lips as he slowly increased the tempo of moving in and out of her.

Within minutes, to the surprise of them both, they found their pleasure together.

Jul 242016
 

Masturbation Monday badge - small

photo credit: Whisper via photopin (license)

photo credit: Whisper via photopin (license)

*This is the fourth post in a series of seven that ties in with a co-topping scene. I have included all previous posts with links in italics where relevant in the story.

**I am trying to get more comfortable with at least hearing dirty talk, as most people truly have no idea how uncomfortable it makes me and it is my issue to work through. (I’ve included links to the past where applicable.) My ex husband would buffer and help me in this, but I’ve had to truly push further and faster now that I’ve been single – and it isn’t with loving patience that he showed me.

Earlier in the day, I had sex with Tech Talk, where I introduced some kink – and without asking how I felt about it – he talked dirty to me while fucking me. Maybe he thought I would enjoy it, but it definitely took me out of my orgasmic head space. He said things like: “You like my cock deep inside of you,” and, “God you have a tight pussy.” It wasn’t shocking, my ex husband used to whisper things to me, mostly to get me to blush or because it made me uncomfortable, but it was odd to me for our very first time. Perhaps I am old fashioned, after all, a lot of the random hookups talked dirty to me so maybe it’s just the thing to do nowadays (I was out of the dating scene for 16 years, after all).

It probably is the thing to do nowadays, as I was a bit taken aback later in the day: I had mentioned in a previous post that I was called slut during a scene in which I was co-topped, so for the second time that day that I heard words that normally makes me slightly uncomfortable or blushing. He spun me around and told me to spread my legs, gripped my hair tightly in his fingers, “good girl,” he whispered against my ear.

Normally, that would break my head space (not that I was in one yet) and/or I would say that I don’t like the “girl”, but I had just read a post titled: I’m a Good Girl and that echoed in my head instead. Being called that in the moment oddly didn’t change my head space – didn’t affect me positively or negatively, so I said nothing. I still don’t want to be called that upon later reflection, but with the post just read that day, it was okay.

“Look at how eager the little slut is,” from the female top as I jumped up on the table when ordered to. I blushed (which gratefully I don’t think they saw as I was faced away at the time) and felt the need to defend the jumping action as I had to because I was too short to just climb up on the table – I didn’t say anything however, as to be honest: I was eager playing with these two.

“What a good girl,” he praised me several times throughout the scene, as I orgasmed again and again, or after he forced me to, or when I took a particularly hard impact without fighting against it; again the post I read echoed in my head and made the words okay – I was a good girl deserving of praise in those moments (though again that was in the moment, even writing about it weeks afterwards I felt nauseous writing this sentence so I’m clearly over the moment).

“Such a slut to spread your legs,” he admonished when I did spread my legs to give him or her better access when they would slap between my thighs. It made me very aware that I was instinctively doing the action, made me want to slam my legs shut modestly; I fought to keep them open anyhow. I felt the same when he said: “look at how she raises her cunt so I can get the perfect angle,” when he was caning between and on the inside of my thighs.

Sometimes compliments can even make me blush. Afterwards, when we were sitting in the kitchen, talking to others, he casually tossed in: “I loved hearing you cum. You have amazing sounds.” I felt flushed from embarrassment that he said something so publicly, and yet happy that he complimented my sounds, as I truly don’t want to hear myself (I’m sure I sound awful).”Your orgasms really sound fantastic,” he assured me (perhaps after seeing me blush?) that I should be on their podcast with my orgasms. Then he mentioned being spanked by the female again on their podcast, as the noises I made with impact would work well in that format. “You’re very reactionary – that really works for me,” he again reassured me, when I mentioned how I felt I wasn’t up to the level of impact that I’ve observed him engage in.

After a short break, the man wanted to hear my sounds again. As we headed towards a different room (very dungeon themed), he joked that he was going to “do rape-y things,” followed with, “rape you in a very consensual manner.***” Mm, just those words made me anticipate so much. I was naked and on the table very quickly, as he commanded, and this scene was crafted so beautifully as I felt that he was penetrating me in such a variety of ways with just his words. He began by telling a story of what he was doing to me, “if only you would allow penetration…” he would say from time to time…

as the hitachi buzzed against me he fucked me to multiple orgasms

…”I would tease against your tight little asshole before I rammed into you,” as I was on hands and knees and his fingers swept between my cheeks before his fist made rhythmic contact between my holes. It felt like he was penetrating me without penetrating me.****

Dirty talk is sometimes a lot of fun, I’m learning.

***I have a whole other post on this coming up.

****To hear how he does this, he describes this here in their podcast (45:15 to 46 minutes).

 

 

 

Jul 182016
 

*Continued from here

“I don’t care if she’s ready, I only care if you are,” he told the woman who was co topping me. He had discussed his plan to hit my thighs with a flexible bamboo stick and she would slap at my lips to a rhythm. I felt the ready question he asked previously was directed at me and I offered no protest, so when she agreed she was, they began.

It was a bit of humor in the scene, but I found myself intensely aware of the rhythms across one thigh, the slap in between my legs, and then the accompanying stings across the other thigh. He beat once, she slapped once, he echoed in with once again. He beat twice, she slapped twice, twice on the other thigh. This pattern was maddeningly to me, it was also very centering at I was not aware of my noises, any potential audience, my breathing, the impact – no, only the rhythm. It was becoming very aware of my present in such an odd way.

Eventually, he questioned the use of a Hitachi and I consented; I so badly wanted an orgasm after being denied one already.

When he placed the wand against my thin lace fabric, I squirmed- rather it was into or away from the sensation I can’t say.

The woman held my wrists and her soft lips grazed my nipple, her mouth gently sucked. Again, I felt grateful to be playing with both of these individuals and thought it was so fucking sexy.

I became very loud in volume when orgasm after orgasm was forced on me, with some impact occasionally thrown in – giving me a break to breathe but not cutting down any of my moans.

At one point he ordered me to look at her and thank her for my next orgasm, and even she offered a protest that she didn’t think I could do it. She stood behind my head and gripped my now sweaty hands in both of hers, I arched back a bit to look up into her face as she looked down, her hair cascading down either side. A further awareness that I was playing with a female – a rarity, and also that I would try to look at her while I was orgasming.

He placed the wand against my wet fabric and the buzzing so quickly overwhelmed my body. I shut my eyes, snapped them open, looked into her lovely eyes, shut, open, tried to keep them open, shut them, shuddered against the wand as I groaned through the build up and looked at her right when it finished, thanking her at the same time.

She praised me for trying so hard, stroked my sweaty hair as he stopped the wand and put it to the side. She offered to go get me water and he moved alongside where I laid, caressed my reddened thighs softly. He expressed that I wasn’t the wimp that I think I am.

They talked about everyday things as I sat comfortably listening and drinking my water, unhurried to get dressed or move. They welcomed anything that I had to say and listened respectful – I didn’t feel like an outsider even though I didn’t know them and they were already good friends.

Overall, it was an incredible experience and one that I would eagerly do again.

**There are five more concepts to this scene overall, as this was just a focus on the orgasm portion of it, although the next one is 12 hours of orgasms, maybe I should have had that be Masturbation Monday material.
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Jul 122016
 

Wicked WednesdayShe was tied up by her lover to one of the posts on the narrow sidewalk, her wrists bound crisscrossed reaching for the bushy foliage above her head hanging from the pole. A blindfold was placed against her eyelids, which was actually a stolen towel used to clean tables from the fancy restaurant whose back door led to this alleyway; she felt as if she wasn’t even deserving of a proper blindfold suddenly and it stirred in her a feeling of anxiousness. Faintly the smell of cleaner wafted in her nostrils and she felt the dampness in places against her skin as he tied it tightly around her head. On top of the blindfolded fabric, bands of rope went over and then were tied behind the pole, her skull pressed into the metal and held firmly in place. She would not be able to turn her head or lean away; she would also not be able to talk apparently as he gripped the front of her throat and briefly caressed her pulse on either side with a thumb and fingers before creating another band of rope between her teeth, sharply it bit the sides of her lips as he tied it without mercy.

Rope cemented her spine to the cold and unforgiving pole, circled the curve in her waistline, being tied tightly that the reverberations added the sensations of butterflies panicking in her stomach and trying to escape; there would be no escape – that’s what the rope digging into her soft flesh utterly announced so concisely.

A spreader bar was attached to her ankles, the cuffs a soft leather that was tightened still to somehow a menacing feeling, with ropes being heard strung through the hooks of the cuffs and tied around her to the pole, anchoring her further. He took some loose ends then whipped her thighs and hips as he tied, the sting making her skin ring out in awakening sensations.

For the moment had just begun. She waited like that for what seemed a long time, becoming fidgety as she shifted her already aching feet inside of her incredibly uncomfortable high heels that he picked out for her to wear. She felt the cool air on her exposed cleavage that the tight dress, that he also chose, barely concealed. She strained to hear something, some clue of someone there, but only silence greeted her.

Where was her lover now?

And then a door somewhere, and another door somewhere else, as if on cue or some timer, creaked open. Shuffling of feet, high heels, the low hum of voices inside of rooms of distant places clamored at her brain, and she felt again a moment of panic.

Perhaps she imagined that she could feel heat of bodies as they moved towards her, but she undeniably felt the hands as they caressed her arms beside her bound head, or over her barely protected nipples, or as they brushed over the thin fabric hiding her thighs. She felt the steel of a knife slide under the straps of the dress at the collarbone and heard the rendering before feeling the fabric fall from her shoulders. She whimpered behind the rough fibers at her helpless mouth. As so many hands continued to caress her throughout her whole tense body, she felt the knife slide at the top of her cleavage and heard just as much felt the fabric part between her rounded breasts. Hands slid where the fabric gave way, pinched nipples painfully and she whined a little, before they released to grip the tops of the fabric. Again, her body felt while her ears heard the tearing of the flimsy dress down her body, her breasts completely bared, she sucked in her stomach as it was exposed – the waist rope little deterrent but only offering a brief pause as hands repositioned from over to under the binding, her hips felt the release of the tension of fabric that clenched there in protest since spreading her legs for the spreader bar, and then finally her tensed thighs. Despite the ragged bits of fabric clinging to the back of her body from the waist rope, she felt, and truly was, utterly naked and vulnerable now.

The hands about her became more aggressive, with slaps, spanks, pinches, gripped at her breasts, felt her excited wetness despite her anxiousness…and she was so excited, had asked for this from her lover, who had been carefully planning this moment just for her fantasy to come to life as her body now came to life amidst the strangers and friends’ bodies.

A dark alley, photographed by Molly Moore.And she would look back on the pictures of the seemingly exposed alleyway and the one he swiftly snapped of her tied in it as he walked away to give the sign for the people to enter, and feel a shiver of the pleasurable memory come back.

For even the narrow alleyway wasn’t as exposed as the pictures showed – it was blocked off by walls around the curve, being part of the outside area to a club, in historic Wilmington, where people could smoke – or elaborately play as it happened in this case.

But the appearance and how she felt, despite knowing all these things, didn’t change how exposed/vulnerable, how fearful/anxious/nervous/excited she was in the moment that she was tied.

Jun 192016
 

Masturbation Monday badge - smallI had Mr. Texas lie down in the center of the bed in a dim light. I told him I would do unsexy things for a bit, as I requested first one limb and then another to stretch in a certain direction while I adjusted some velcro and nylon cuffs. Once I felt like there was a certain amount of tension, I tied his ankles and wrists stretched to the four separate corners of the bed.

I didn’t blindfold him right away. Being tied alone was a huge step for him and I kept the mantra of baby steps in my head the entire night. I straddled his body, allowed my lower lips to nestle around his already hard cock, felt his hips try and fail to rise up to push himself against my warmth. I smiled down at his face. I leaned forward and kissed his lips on his mouth, softly, then traced the tip of my tongue against the frame of his lips as his own tongue tried in vain to follow suit. I leaned up and his tongue still sought mine, but he couldn’t lean up any further. I winked at his sigh of frustration.

He was beginning to get the point, understanding the limits of his bondage. I crawled further up and raised my nipple to his mouth, allowing the pink bud to slip into his mouth and he softly suckled before I pulled up out of his reach. I swayed the hardened nipple just out of his reach, let him watch how close he was to having what he so desired.

He groaned in frustration. If there is one thing Mr. Texas loves and does not stop touching, it’s my breasts.

Beside his body, I had a long length of silk fabric and I glided it slowly across his body, starting at his knee, up the inside of his thigh, threading it under his hard shaft, up his chest and across his nipple, and across the front of his neck. It was the soft, colder sensation that I was starting with. Baby steps.  

I gripped the fabric on either side of his neck and just left a bit of tension against his throat. I leaned forward to kiss him but hovered my lips just above his mouth. He leaned forward and increased the pressure against his throat to get his kiss.

Good, he didn’t mind a bit more pressure on his throat. I noted about how much he seemed comfortable with- was willing to do to himself, before rewarding him with a passionate kiss. I slid the fabric across his eyes, such a gentle caress to shut them with the silk.

“I’m going to blindfold you now. I’ll start the knot and adjust it to the side of your head and then re position it once we decide when it’s good,” I whispered down to him.

“Oh gosh,” he murmured when the fabric tightened around his eyes. I tied a knot, asked about the pressure, and then adjusted the knot more out of the way.

I gifted him with a nipple for handling the blindfold so well, letting my hardened bud settle against his lips so he could feel it before allowing his own sucking mouth to envelop around it. I let out a little sigh so he could hear my pleasure since he could no longer see it.

Then I began to kiss sporadic areas of his body so that he was surprised from one moment to the next where my mouth would be. I began with soft kisses but after a long while the kisses turned more into sucking nibbles. He would gasp from one moment to the next, strained to raise his hips every time my mouth would crash upon his erection.

I grabbed an ice cube from beside the nightstand and surprised his hot skin with the cold wet sensation. The next while was awakening his skin to the coldness or the contrast of an ice cube and a hot mouth when the ice cube melted before I went for another. His groans expressed how much he liked the sensation.

Baby steps.

I began scratching my nails into this skin, softly but then raked trails as my mouth alternated between hot and cold. I would only dig in when I was in a zone that he found pleasurable. “This pleasure with pain is completely new to me,” he muttered at one point, and I acknowledged that it was my intent to only hurt him when it also felt good.

Once I felt that my nails sufficiently warmed him, I straddled his hips and lowered so that just the tip entered me. I positioned myself in a squat position so that my body wouldn’t give away my intent and pulsed up and down on his tip for a few minutes, listened to his begging body cry out to be fully inside of me. I softly rolled the Wartenberg Wheel across his chest. He knew what it was already – I had shown him what was in my rope bag before tonight. I slammed my body down around his hardness while at the same time taking the wheel and letting the tines sink into his skin the same way my hips sank onto his own.

He arched as much as he could, his groan one of both satisfaction and pain. I raised myself up again and softly bounced up and down upon him, only going halfway down his shaft as the wheel explored parts of his skin with half the intensity as the one painful roll. When he began to buckle as much as he could to seek out more, I rode him, grinding myself down and around as the wheel began to leave red streaks across his chest and thighs.

I stopped before he found his release and his noise of protest made me laugh out loud. I wrapped my mouth around his cock and sucked my own taste off of his skin while I explored his thighs with the wheel more thoroughly. Occasionally I would drop the sharp wheel and softly caress the trails I left with gossamer fingertips.

“Are you okay with a bit more intense sensations?” I asked him.

“Sure.” He did hesitate for a moment, as if mulling it over, but he was enjoying himself so far as I could tell.

I made sure he heard the lighter and I heard his groan, yet he didn’t protest. I kissed his thighs as I hovered the candle above him and waited for the wax to melt. He jerked with the first splatter and complained, but didn’t ask me to stop. I let one more drop cover the inside of his thigh and after listening and watching to his reaction, I decided to move to the front and outside of his thigh.  He didn’t like it, though he didn’t ask me to stop. I blew out the candle and praised him for trying it; I understand not everyone enjoys everything.

I straddled his body and softly lowered myself so he sunk into my depth, leaned up for a kiss as I removed the blindfold. Again I ran the silk fabric across his body as I gently gripped him inside my own body. I wanted to end with the softness and his moans showed his appreciation.

I lifted off of him and kissed my way up to his arms and wrists, sucking his fingers as I slowly peeled the velcro away from each wrist. I let him touch me, see me, hold me as I rode him towards his own release.