Oct 302017
 

“Do you like her sucking your cock?” his wife asked in the backseat as he drove us to my house. Somehow I always knew that she would be that cool with another woman. Another bonus: I was using my truck the way I intended it – center console moved up so it’s a bench seat and I could have my mouth comfortably on a man as he drives. She was asking him how it felt and he described it as I gave him road head, before we reached our destination and all headed to my big bed together.

****************

“I taste you on your fingers. Were you touching yourself?” he whispered as he separated my thighs with his hips and drew my fingers deeply into his mouth. I blushed crimson into the dark room, though I’m pretty sure he didn’t need to see me to know that. “You taste so good.”

******************

I had no choice but to be spread open and grinding myself on the bed, as the positioning of the rope around my ankles and thighs kept me low to the bed and spread open, and the chest harness wouldn’t allow for me to move any further up, but the grinding might have actually happened once he placed the vibrator in me. Still, the bound position kept me low and bent over.

“This position is perfect for anal,” and my heart thudded with the thought that anal sex was what he had in mind as he applied lube against me. Instead, the plug hurt in a pleasurable way as he slammed it into me.

*****************

“It’s amazing how much you’ll hurt yourself for an orgasm,” he sounded amazed, but by this point Mr. Texas knows how I can get under the right circumstances. He continued to draw the curry comb against my nipples – or rather keep it pressed up against them as I scratched them back and forth painfully riding him. I would feel my nipples sore for a week, but the price was worth the pleasure.

 

****All different scenarios and times. Wicked Wednesday

May 152017
 

Every so often, for a couple of days, I have very dark desires. Even what turns me on is different. I’ll watch forced fantasies, consensual non consent scenes. I’ll masturbate roughly, often causing myself pain, discomfort, possible bleeding from the force of my own actions.

I’m not sure a lover has ever been able to pick it out – not even my ex husband who truly knew me and read me so ridiculously well sexually.

I don’t share the mood verbally, yet my actions, if I really reflect how they are with another, are even rougher.

One night, for example, Mr. Texas and I were in the hot tub and he was being stubborn and not admitting to his stupidity (don’t get this scenario wrong – I admitted to my own stupidity and was asking for him to do the same). I was done playing nice, so I propelled myself on his lap, dug my nails into the sides of his ribs right below his armpits, and bit down on his jawline alongside his chin.

He immediately panicked I would leave a bite mark on his face and that would frowned upon in the military (I didn’t).

He admitted he was stupid, and we made out, where I took his face between my hands and kissed him until he struggled to breathe.

Upstairs, when he reached around and grabbed at my backs of my thighs to bruise the muscle with his fingers, I bit down hard upon his chest, sinking teeth into muscle until my teeth touched into the skin. He pushed me away, told me that we needed to establish some sort of rule that that was not okay.

I mentioned our safe word, unapologetic. In my head, I was picturing my teeth tearing into his skin and my hand reaching into his heart – sort of like what you see in movies or supernatural stories.

Later, as I straddled and impaled myself upon him, I leaned forward and pushed my fingers into the deep teeth marks, smiling at his sharp intake of breath at the pain, kissing softly alongside his neck. In my head, I tasted his blood in my mouth as his pulse became weaker – sort of like a vampire movie, I suppose.

At some point in the night, I was flipped over and he was driving himself into my warm body; he slowed down and his hands softly caressed from hips to breasts, gently squeezed, caressed up to the sides of my neck. My own hands fluttered to cover his own, kept them along my fragile neck for a moment longer. I closed my eyes and imagined him squeezing the breath and blood from circulating life into my body as he was deep inside of me, stroked in and out as I grew dizzy and weary, and eventually strangled the life from me.

That would be a way to go, far kinder than most people’s, falling asleep with my lover’s cock creating pleasure, never to wake again. It would be hot if he grunted and groaned his pleasure over my unconscious body, came immediately after extinguishing my life, his semen dripping out of me.

It would be like a play, this fantasy, and the onlookers would hold their breath at the turn of events, this tragedy, and we would stand up and take a bow when the reality of the scene set in, proud of our accomplishment, our feat, our daring, and the horror and grief of the onlookers would realize that this wasn’t real, this thing in front of them, and would be relieved.

His life, my life, a life, played out to the finish.

The End

Fin

 

Feb 032017
 

Mr. Texas tied my wrists – taking a few times as it had been a month since he even touched rope and the rope kept tightening. He strung the rope up to the sides of the head board, stretched one side too far where the shoulder wasn’t down. Experience taught me my shoulders would fatigue if they weren’t down, so I requested he loosen the rope a bit so my shoulders rested comfortably down, adding that my wrists up were fine.

Futomomo ties for the legs, where the ankles and calves were bound to the thighs – he remembered this surprisingly well and didn’t struggle in the slightest. He used the small loose ends to extra rope  to tie into the extra rope on bed posts that restrained my wrists. I thought that was very clever, as it spread my thighs as much as possible and moved them slightly up as well.

I was now spread open naked, a position that makes me feel vulnerable in an appreciated way as it assists the mind set that I want to achieve.

Ugh, I had actually suggested this was hot to me. Yet, in the moment, orgasm denial is such a tensioned tease that is hard for me to deal with. I whined my disappointment. Fingers again became aggressive inside of me, this time he allowed a full orgasm to slam into my body, quickly slapped at my inner thighs with his other hand, waited for me to come down from my orgasm and gripped and spanked at the lower part of my bottom that he could reach.

He slid his hips between my thighs, my tied heels nestling him behind his hips and keeping him pressed against me. I felt his erection at my entrance, the head slipped past my entrance and slid deep into my body. He felt so amazing inside of me and I tightened instinctively. He moved slightly, rubbed up and down a few times, just enough to get me worked up, and then stopped before I could find pleasure.

Withdrawing, he reached up and released my wrists. I think he moved towards the end of the bed, it felt that way. “Play with yourself,” he ordered. I hesitated, I know I did. I don’t do this often, and even though Mr. Texas and I had been together for months, it was at the edge of uncomfortable for me. Yet, if I denied him, would he think that his attempt to take control failed?

Did he he even want to see me masturbate? Just a few days prior I expressed how I found it hot when a lover would masturbate for me, and he replied that he thought that it was odd.

I didn’t want to discourage him – that alone made me tentatively slip a finger between my lips and rub. Was he watching? Did he sit there and get turned on by the sight in front of him? I hoped so, as that would encourage me to listen to this command in the future.

“Harder,” he told me, and I plunged two fingers in, though I couldn’t use my still tied legs to thrust my hips up to get a good angle.  “Make yourself cum really hard.” And I moved faster, but the angle was wrong and my mindset was wrong.

Fortunately or unfortunately, he must have believed that I had an orgasm from my fingers, as he moved my hand aside and entered me again.

We had sex until we both found our own release in each other.

Febraury Photofest
Jan 222017
 

I am like Pavlov’s dog with music selections.

Pavlov came across classical conditioning unintentionally…Whilst measuring the salivation rates of dogs, he found that they would produce saliva when they heard or smelt food in anticipation of feeding. This is a normal reflex response which we would expect to happen…

However, the dogs also began to salivate when events occurred which would otherwise be unrelated to feeding. By playing sounds to the dogs prior to feeding them, Pavlov showed that they could be conditioned to unconsciously associate neutral, unrelated events with being fed. – Psychologistworld.com

Certain songs will often remind people of a memory or a person. I find myself reacting to certain songs with physical reactions as well. It’s not that I’ve necessarily played with all these people often (though all but one I have), it’s just that music seemed to be prominent with us or in association with them.

Give me R&B or sexy pop beats, and I think of sex with my ex husbandOccasionally, my nipples will perk up or I will begin to tighten in anticipation. It’s strange to still have this reaction considering that it’s been so long, but it has been far longer still that this music trained me to respond with thoughts and aching for sex. With masturbation, I will still often play our radio station, so strong is my reaction that it helps my own self orgasm.

“I panted, by this time hours of pleasure not allowing me any sense of realism, and unable to help himself from toying with my quivering self, his fingers grazed my clit. I sucked in my breath, already feeling dizzy from the slight contact, my legs parting without thought. Suddenly two of his fingers danced upon my pearl, and I was so taken with pleasure I had no idea how I ended up laying with my back on his chest, one solid arm across my shoulder and neck so fingers could tugged at a nipple, the other hand quickly alternating between slipping into my sex and rubbing up into my clit.” – Incapable of Thinking

Always and Forever – Luther Vandross[jwplayer mediaid=”6952″]

Ride It – Jay Sean[jwplayer mediaid=”6954″]

Signs of Love Makin’ – Tyrese[jwplayer mediaid=”6955″]

Making Love (Into the Night) – Usher[jwplayer mediaid=”6956″]

Alternative music and I think of Mimir’s beautifully crafted scenes. Mimir had so much going on in his scenes that truly it’s a bit hard to pin down what specifically gets me physically reacting. It’s more like a whispered memory across my skin of sensations, an intake of breath of wondering what would have occurred, and a slight feeling of homesickness for rope and scenes crafted in a space that always felt safe and uniquely tailored to me. It’s an utter feeling of longing but incredibly sexy to me as well.

“He moved between my legs, and so softly – the merest gossamer of touches, slid a finger against the delicate lace of my underwear. If I had not been so fixated on his every move, if I had breathed too deeply, I might have missed the touch. It was a sharp contrast to the earlier dominance, this soft caress at my lips.

My body cried out for his touch. My mouth remained silent, not wanting to break the spell with demands that would go unheeded simply because they were uttered. He is not a man to be rushed.” – Take Down

Beautiful – 10 Years[jwplayer mediaid=”6957″]

Evil Angel – Breaking Benjamin[jwplayer mediaid=”6959″]

Bloody Creature Poster Girl – In This Moment[jwplayer mediaid=”6960″]

Industrial German and I think of painful rope with Master MondayRope with him was not unheard of, but we didn’t do it very often. Though I did see his look of planning often to this music, and occasionally was treated to some of his expertise. The music makes me me miss rope in general, but very specifically how badly it can cut into muscles, or the tension creating little doubt of being bound together, or the excitement of something new or creative. It’s a slight adrenaline rush.

“Did I mention the music was awesome? It’s amazing how music can create a scene, and in this case I feel it did. Next thing I knew I was being strung up and fully suspended with legs adjusted from time to time to a more painful position than the last. I was blindfolded and it was then used to pull my head back, in which he arched my back to tie the blindfold into an ankle. That was a tight tie, it didn’t allow any forgiveness or releasing of tension. It was very uncomfortable but sustainable, and I wished that I had been in it longer. He spun me around in that position, his hand brushing over my blindfold, my upturned chin, my tensely pulled back neck, my chest.” – Hurty Rope

Blutengel – Sing[jwplayer mediaid=”6961″]

Centhron – Lichtsucher[jwplayer mediaid=”6962″]

French pop songs and I think of being beat by Mr. Texas. – it’s a reaction I unconsciously created as country music just wasn’t doing it for me and he doesn’t care for most modern songs – so I picked Stromae and have tailored the songs specifically for our scenes. It is hearing these songs that inspired me to write some of my physical reactions to hearing certain music. Especially Love Story, and I think of having a cane taken to me, of the ebbs and flows to create a great scene where he is able to keep my pain threshold with a stinging strike just right and then use another song to build me up to perhaps punching on the back of my bottom or thighs, perhaps flogging (our newest exploration), or some other type of pain that while I handle it better, it certainly brings up the level of pain. Or he just may grip my hair and pull my head back forcefully as he slams his body deep inside of me, a hand around my throat and his deep throaty “mine” that imprints me as thoroughly as the marks. My body gets tense in anticipation of either an orgasm or bracing for impact when hearing this music now.

Love Story – Indila[jwplayer mediaid=”6963″]

Mes Aures – Frero Delavega[jwplayer mediaid=”6964″]

House’llelujah – Stromae[jwplayer mediaid=”6965″]

*I’m not including a post selection for Mr. Texas – for one I haven’t written much about our moments yet, for another, he is my future and we are beginning to strengthen my reactions to him and the music even further – I can’t wait!

**I had twelve songs picked out already as this sat in drafts, and when I saw the prompt for Wicked Wednesday, I thought it was perfect.

Masturbation Monday badge - small
Wicked Wednesday

Sep 252016
 

Masturbation Monday Week 108I use my phone for masturbation, a lot. As a matter of fact, if I am masturbating, odds are my phone is on and either in my hand or upright from a pillow nearby.

If my masturbation is truly a solo act, it’s from something I see on tumblr. And I am on tumblr almost every single night before I go to sleep (here’s a hot one I just recently found), so I see a lot of images. Considering I rarely masturbate as a solo act, the images that get me the most nowadays are cunnilingus and consensual non consent. As much as I love fellatio, I dislike most images – I like the feel, taste, and performing the act – I dislike most visuals I see because they seem to be from a male self-centered viewpoint (and maybe rightfully so).

But more so for masturbation: my phone has been used with my ex husband. Any time we were separated by distance (not an uncommon occurrence) we used our phones to send sexy texts and videos, had phone sex, and even video sessions together.

Some texts that were masturbation worthy:

We have done a lot and I intend to keep pushing your boundaries. I want to grab you by the neck, throw you on the bed, and have my way with you. I want to fuck you so hard. No ropes will be needed, I will tie you up with my words. I am intrigued by this whole deep throat thing right now, I am to the point I have thought about asking to push harder. [2014]

Thinking of you as I go to bed (posted a photo). I am thinking that when I first see you again of doing something simple like the fuck me rope. It is quick and easy and very effective. You will be bound and fucked in just a blink of an eye. Tied and slammed down on the bed, wrapped up, and fucked hard. [2015] – Sexting Searching

It was a way to maintain power dynamics, one particular time we were on video with each other because I failed at a task:

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. – My Punishment 

My phone, while not used for masturbation with another beyond my ex, also keeps me connected and close to my lovers (and even oddly many of my one night stands).

The Wanderer and I, for example, rarely see each other. We would have absolutely zero of a relationship by this point if it wasn’t for keeping in constant, though by no means daily, communication by texts. We’ve only actually reached out and called a few times, but our schedules make that a challenge. Our relationship by phone isn’t one of sexting (though of course a certain appreciation of skills is discussed) but more of friends. We are of a deeper level of connection than just physical, though distance and other priorities keeps that connection almost a stalemate currently.

Cell phones have always been a wonderful addition to my relationships.Masturbation Monday badge - small

Aug 292016
 

Masturbation Monday Week 104I was going to say something about this picture.

I was going to put myself in the story; as the author and with my active and vivid imagination, use the first person I can experience this, grow excited, tighten clench. I want to be this female tied, in this scene, exposed, vulnerable waiting. Wet, wanton, wanting him to come closer. To cum.

I love when a man finds his release. Not on a face, and I don’t even like the visual on someone else. Not even on her body, which is straining, which mine would be as well, impatient. I would want him in my mouth – that gorgeous cock – the only  thing that he is willing to share of himself – and even then he’s not sharing. He’s too far away from me, from her, stroking it, enjoying his hardness sliding against his palm, his fingers able to feel that ridges that both of us are denied in this scenario. But we are both staring at his action, at his blatant desire at the scenario that he has created, even if we wanted to – we can’t tear our eyes away from the sight of his cock contrasted in the black around him – a spotlight for our focus, for our show, for the preview.

Oh yes, I want to be in this scene. My legs test the boundaries on the rope, fucking amazing rope – I mean this scene was designed for me. It digs into my wrists and ankles, my ankles sore because I see her move and I would as well, to try to relieve some of the tension between my legs, to see if I can escape, to open myself wider in an unspoken invitation.

Yes, I would want to taste him, but ultimately I would want him to take advantage of the predicament of the bondage, my legs are spread for him, for him to push the head past my drenched entrance and slide the hardened length until he hit the wall at the back, fully claiming and filling every part of me. I would clench down upon him as he pulled out a bit, protesting the action, moaning as he sunk back in.

I even like that he is faceless. He could be anyone – a dream or reality. In some ways, I’m objectifying him, it matters not who he is. It matters what he does to me, to her, to us. The stage matters. His cock matters: it is the instrument of teasing foreplay, it is the promise, the temptation, the fulfillment, the reason legs are spread and eyes are riveted.

So yes, when I first clicked on Masturbation Monday, and my body immediately reacted like I was punched in the gut and my fingers wanted to drift towards pleasure, I was going to tell a whole story. Instead I ran out of time and decided to just get to the main idea behind the reaction.Masturbation Monday badge - small

Aug 212016
 

Masturbation Monday badge - small

On Twitter, as part of my independent self love goal, I wrote about not completing a task and forgiving myself for that. I was given a last minute (an hour) order to accomplish something and didn’t; I later told him I needed understanding and to keep in mind that it’s fair to ask 24 hour notice. While he agreed that there would be no punishment, and gave me a more simple task I could complete last minute (see picture), he will be “keeping in mind” that I didn’t do it as he asked last time. Yikes!

Tasks are something that I view as being very specific to power dynamics, and something that can be considered almost a to-do list. I don’t view tasks as something that is said in the moment (unless the scene is laid out) – they have to be thought of prior, and in my own experience have a deadline or time set aside.

A recent task I was given

In this regard, with this definition, I have only engaged in tasks with my husband – though I’m sure truly it could be applied to perhaps two other people, but with them power dynamics have been more present but not fully established. It is unquestionable to me that I obey my husband’s commands when it comes to sex and kink (granted that means that a safe word is still applicable and that my hard limits are respected). He also tends to push my comfort levels with tasks – visual in some regard, masturbation being the top requested thing (even during our scenes).

His tasks are almost always while we are separated, as he is a visual person and misses the sight of me, not to mention this is a way for him to continue our power dynamics while we aren’t close to each other – a reminder I need quite a bit of as I’m naturally more dominant in personality. I’ve written about some tasks he will give me:

“I want a picture…you will get dressed in your stockings we got you I like, with your crotchless panties, and take pictures. I want a couple of pictures of you playing with yourself and then in child’s pose. If you are feeling real frisky take your new plug and put it in, pull your underwear to expose yourself while in child’s pose, and take that picture. This may be hard to do but you can use your phone timer, or something, I am sure you can figure it out. Only need to send one picture, you can send more, but I think they will turn out good and we can use them for later [for the blog].”

He’s never before been so specific, so detailed, nor has he ever demanded a photo. In the past, he only hinted or suggested I take one for him.

I think this reflects that he is aware of more of what he likes and wants.

I think this also reflects that gradual change that has occurred in our relationship – he’s more dominant overall nowadays. – Tasks

When he got home some months later, he used a video he ordered me to make and had me watch it while we had sex. This was a hard task for me: for one, I struggle to keep my eyes open, for another I dislike how I look – the reason he had me watch: he told me how sexy he found me and how it turned him on, seeking for me to view myself more positively. (Watch)

Videos are challenging for me, and one of his favorite things, so I get video tasks quite often. I dislike doing them, they are out of my comfort zone, and yet I am excited that he likes them. If I didn’t receive positive affirmation, I may not do them at all (last time was a lukewarm response that I’m sifting through some emotions with – believing that it’s my own emotions versus his).

Because videos are such a challenge, I find loopholes all the time, and he is learning those loopholes. An example would be when he told me to wear something sexy, and I wore a flannel because I found that sexy; though I did give him one hell of a strip dance – another request for that particular task and one that made me feel mutinous. He also knows exactly when I will balk, and has learned that the consequence has to up the ante. The last time I became too busy to complete a task, there was a severe consequence that I am not anxious to repeat (this time he also picked out my clothes so that I would wear something he found sexy), though the my punishment was incredibly hot.

Even though we switch in our marriage, the power dynamics are firmly established when the switch takes place. If I am in charge and he tries to pull rank, I don’t put up with it and his body often feels my displeasure. He hates pain and it really isn’t part of our scenes where I dominate him, “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” (Pegging Again). My elbows tend to be pretty accurate and get the point across on a physical level that I am in charge.

I use tasks most often to dominate him, a handy tool I learned a couple years ago after many failed attempts to give him a scene that he envisioned but couldn’t verbalize, “I…do what I do best: I made a list of what I needed and what I was planning – though the planned part was vague so that he didn’t understand… I threw him the list. ‘Complete each one, wait before completing another as I have a task you need to do in between each step.'” (Lists will save me). 

Some tasks I’ve given him are:

  • cleaning out a wax warmer to put in massage wax (because I was lazy)
  • fingering me to orgasm
  • tying my velcro ties around the bed for his height
  • edging himself
  • finding items for the scene (again, lazy)
  • making me orgasm through sex a certain number of times without cumming
  • putting me in my strap on harness (I just need help with adjustments, but I make him do all the work).

I will also give him some video/phone/writing tasks while we are long distance. These are mostly so I can seek to understand something; for instance, I just recently asked him to think about and explain why he made the comment that I am not a hard enough bottom and that he may find our level of play unsatisfactory long term, also what kind of hard play he was referring to missing and what he got out of it. The comment hurt me, but I tried to understand what he was saying, and not putting my own feelings and implying it to his intention. When I ask for a masturbation video with specifics, I am looking for what he finds hot/sexy/how he touches and when.

So tasks are about power dynamics and firmly establishing/reaffirming them, but also to show care, support, and seek understanding. And then sometimes, they’re just hot and fun and filthy and wonderful.

Except for the rare exceptions, all of the tasks so far between the two of us tend to be incredibly masturbation-worthy.

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 012016
 

This week’s TMI Tuesday questions were inspired by bloggers Red Cee Dee and Nero. Stay sexy!

Cheating & Masturbating

1. Your thoughts–is oral sex cheating on your partner?

It depends on the perimeters established with your partner. I’ve had relationships where it wasn’t cheating. In my current relationship: yes, it absolutely is. 
2. What is cheating to you?

Cheating is any boundary that was mutually agreed on being broken without prior consent. 
3. Does your partner know you masturbate? What do they think about that?

He does, he is the one who tells me to. So I’m assuming he likes it, that and he loves to watch me do so. We did this very hot scene that lasted far too long over a video call where I was a sweaty mess from edging myself and orgasming with my fingers, wand, and vibrator; I even made myself squirt. It was intense, and something I don’t wish to repeat as to overwhelm myself that much was really difficult. That’s why he did it, however: it was a punishment for forgetting to send him a video where masturbation was on a level I could handle.
4. Think about the best sex you’ve ever had. Why do you consider it the best, what makes it so?

I have such fantastic sex with my husband that I’m not sure I can define any as the best. I’m quite sure I’ve written all the top moments, however. Sex that would make it the best probably includes some power play, bondage, orgasm control, and a long session of teasing with both foreplay and afterplay. 
5. When you have nightmares, do you call out someone’s name?

Not that I’m aware of, nor ever been told.
6. When you’re having an orgasm, do you scream a name?

Yes, I do sometimes. I really scream out, “God” or “Jesus” quite a bit (too much Catholic School?), but occasionally I will call out his name. 

Bonus: Which best fits your usual reason for masturbating:
a. Boredom
b. Stress relief
c. Saw someone/something sexy and you need to act out a sexual fantasy
d. It’s just what I do

I’d like to add another category, as this truly is the majority of time I have ever masturbated in my life:

e. My husband told me to

————

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!

Jul 092016
 

3So anal fisting was on his list of things to try. I was afraid he would crush my hand but slowly, gently we tried it.

I have to say, it was awesome. For one, I was in awe that my entire hand could fit inside of him; it was pretty cool to see it completely disappear. For another, any time I get to see him stroke himself to climax is always fucking hot. And finally, the fact that we trusted each other to try something like this is special and rare.

Sinful Sunday