Apr 122017
 

“Play hard to get, remain silent, scared, and dramatically emotional,” Joy repeated to herself, closing the big red book of Fairy Tales upon her perch of the toadstool. She nodded to herself for extra measure, felt the breeze stir the fringes of her tutu skirt, rubbed her toes together for comfort, and laid the book beside her. She arched into the sunlight, welcomed the warming rays upon her bare arms and face, and closed her eyes, trying to remember the rest of what she’d learned about non humans trying to get humans to love them.

She’d like Beast’s methods best, but he was a male. She looked down at her breasts and giggled, nope…she just didn’t possess enough fur to carry it off and take the woman like he did. Besides, she had her sights set on a man. Of course, maybe men liked that sort, but her extensive research did not indicate that. She had read what men really liked.

He was long, but then again they all looked a bit long when one was tiny. He had the most beautiful garden, and seemed kind. She loved how what he was focused on reflected so beautifully on the lenses of his glasses. She hoped to be reflected there one day, with his luscious lips smiling at her in love.

She stood up, squared her shoulders, stretched her wings and let those embrace the breeze and sun before flitted to the nearby ground. She squinted her eyes and held her breath after casting, realized that wasn’t the most flattering, and forced herself to relax as all the fairies seemed to. Eloquence, grace, she repeated. A few seconds went by: a deep breath and her eyes opened to the grass so far below her she could barely distinguish the toadstool. She worried for the briefest of moments if she made herself too long, but worrying just wasn’t in her nature, so she shrugged and off she headed towards the man’s yard.

Not that Joy headed far, she simply stepped a few times, in awe of heavy she seemed against the earth, her feet slightly sinking in damp dirt, and reached for over the short gate to his gorgeous garden. A quick twist of the lock, a slight push of the creaky contraption, and she entered the path, immediately being surrounded by the lovely fragrance of roses and flowers. This was by far her favorite season, made her think of sex amid all the perfumed sweetness.

This year she was going to attempt a different type of sex, her family always did mention just how her curiosity got the better of her. It was such fun discovering new things. As she walked past the blooms, before she was already visible in the garden, she could already envision once he saw her he would stand up and gaze at her beauty. She would pretend to just notice him and turn back towards the bushes and climbing vines as if to seek shelter, but he would take her hand and guide into the sunshine in the center of his yard. She would smile coyly, a move she had been practicing, and would shyly kneel before him.

Men, she read, loved blow jobs, a sex called oral, and so he would be surprised when she kneeled in front of him but wouldn’t stop her. She would reach for his pants and pull out his penis. According to her reasearch, this was where individual preference mattered, so she would purse her lips and start blowing softly before she increased the intensity to hard blowing. She liked the breeze upon her wings, so she supposed a human male’s penis might appreciate the air she created across. Sucking she couldn’t imagine would create the same air stream, but supposedly that was important too, so she would suck in great lungful of air and would look up with him with eyes that looked like puppies and he would smile his appreciation at her gift, falling in love with her.

The tricky part was, according to the fairy tales, they would be married immediately but she didn’t want that part, only the falling in love and sex part; so she would have to run away once he proposed. But she would blow him a kiss behind her shoulder and wink to let him know there were no hard feelings, and try not to giggle (as was her nature) until she was once again in her natural form. (The tales also shared she would die a painful death if she didn’t succeed, but of course she would, she always did.)

Joy couldn’t wait to see the look on his face as she gave him what all men wanted so much they fell in love. She quickened her steps.
Wicked Wednesday

*Wicked Wednesday is on nature this week. Click to see what inspires others.

Feb 212017
 

Febraury PhotofestHave I ever shared that The Wanderer knows me intimately? Perhaps it is because we have been friends for so long, but he knows how uncomfortable some words make me. And sadist that he is, he uses them and smiles about them (even from distance, I’m sure).

For example, he wrote to me that I was a good cocksucker. Okay, even writing the words makes me squirm a bit.

But he told me that as my mouth was wrapped around him last time as well. In the act, he uttered words that turn me shy. It was a contrast – a mind fuck that I always find delicious – as my body and mouth were wanton and bold, but words suddenly make me feel like a sheltered and shy unsure youth.

*This picture is not with The Wanderer. It’s a shadow that I love from the photo story of David and I.

Feb 162017
 

An unrelated picture that continues the hotness that is David

Febraury Photofest

 

 

 

 

I swear there is something wrong with a lover of mine. Either that or I’m losing my touch at training.

Maybe a bit of both.

I am incredibly verbal while having sex. When something feels good, I tend to verbalize it, either with words (a more conscious things) or just the sounds that slip unbidden from my mouth. I sigh, I moan, I groan, I state “yes” or “that feels good” or “don’t stop”. I arch into the touch, I hold it tighter, I grind down onto it.

It’s only when I get overwhelmed that I get confusing with directions, when I start to unconsciously say: “no yes” or “stop” (but don’t mean it). It’s when I grip tighter but then push away, squirm a bit from the sensation but say yes. But this is after an orgasm or two, so if a lover gets confused and stops, I’m okay…

I’ve had mine.

But I have a lover who stops when I tell him not to, slows down when I physically am at my most welcoming. He is constantly ruining my orgasms with the premature ending of what feels good. I am not being confusing in what I want to occur because I haven’t even managed to have one orgasm yet. Maybe he thinks even the slightest noise means that I’ve already achieved an orgasm, instead of I’m just beginning to feel the build up of pleasure.

But honestly, regardless of how confused I get when I have an orgasm, when I say “don’t stop,” it doesn’t mean to stop. Honest.

Sep 292016
 

I took months to write from my notes, so I decided that I would share the brief notes that I made with the scene as I recall it from off of the notes. (I’ve shared a few times that I write notes immediately afterwards to write up, and how the process works for me.) The Wanderer and I began when I was chaotically busy, and the posts are nowhere near how delicious the moments truly were – later posts and scenes are more fully fleshed out as life calmed down a bit.

This was the second time I met up with him.

Spanking, implements, such a damn wimp – gift of a toy that I am so unworthy of, but purple!

He unzipped his suitcase, true traveler fashion. Parted open and exposed were paddles and other spanking implements. The suitcase laid on the couch unassuming, but I gulped, assumed, couldn’t take my eyes off and imagined the implements being used on my skin, my muscles, my body. They were a bit intimating considering that I view myself such a damn wimp.

He gave me a crop, and receiving presents are a rarity for me. I was so appreciative of it, and felt so unworthy considering how much of a wimp I am with impact that the toy would not be used to such an extent as both he and I would like. It was gorgeous, however, and purple – my favorite color. He was so kind to be considerate of color choice – something I knew that he took into account.

My concerns:

Does he know orgasms get me to accept pain to a further degree?

Will he grant me orgasms?

Will he wait until the tell-tale signs that everything feels good (like when I start to arch and moan into every moment)?

Will he think less of me when I move in undeniable this-fucking-hurts-and-I-don’t-like-it ways? Will he consider me the wimp I consider myself to be and will I fail to please him?

Will I utterly fail at this, as impact play is a tricky thing for me?

Please don’t let him think less of me!

 

“What’re my limits?” No sex. Immediately go for his belt and everything but sex.

I test the waters, unsure of what he’ll allow. My husband liked me to be the aggressor, Mimir would allow absolute no decision or action from me unless he gave me permission. Ordinarily, I am a take charge person, but I truly loved the lack of decision making and control Mimir created. I can’t help but compare – he’s a new partner and I want to please him. I am lucky in that I know a bit about him from being friends (or acquaintances?) for so long, but I don’t know what level he exerts dominance, what level of passivity or submission he expects from me.

So my fingertips lightly caress, then become bolder with hands, and then move from fabric to removing fabric, then from hands to mouth.

His cock swells and pulses against my tongue and I gently suck, run my tongue up and down his length. He hasn’t stopped me and his body is telling me he is enjoying this action. I add hands and increase the pressure and tempo of my mouth, becoming bolder with no indication that I should stop.

I never once push, ask, nor even communicate through body language that he should fuck me. I respect his boundary, as I am always very respectful and conscientious of any boundary given – I rather like them, as I like to know exactly as things stand and what is allowed or not.

 

Orgasm play, vibrator, head cradled in his hand then moved close to cuddling.

He stopped me before I pleased him, and at once I was disappointed and concerned that I pushed too far (luckily he would use my mouth for his release later). Ever the amazing man of sensations, I was on the bed and being gifted with his own mouth, his finger delving and exploring the wet mess he created.

I know I begged, arched, welcomed, clenched. I don’t know if I did my confusing “please” which could mean please don’t stop, or please stop and give me a break, depending on what side of the pleasure peak I am on.

He had told me before we met up to bring a vibrator, and I did, my trusted Lelo that I haven’t been able to break yet (though it’s no longer as strong, nor is it always working on the setting I choose). That man was as amazing with a toy as he was with his fingers, something that intimidates some men, but he knew how to apply the pressure, when to speed up, and when to let me breathe through one orgasm to another – which he brought with such an ease.

As I arched and screamed and tensed from one orgasm to another, he observed me almost tenderly – a word that I am sure he isn’t often described by, and he cradled my head in his hand – that act seemed so deeply intimate to me and I found myself drawn even closer to him because of it.

He cuddled me afterwards, something I’m not sure either of us do much of, and I welcomed it to my overwhelming senses. Of course, because I was so overwhelmed and overworked, every slight movement would elicit a gasp or moan from me, and his fingertips trailed and explored several times, especially delighting in the reactions that nipples elicited – if his attention to them was any indication.

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

 

 

Jul 192016
 

I had my first orgasm at noon; I had my last orgasm at midnight. There was only perhaps a couple of hours broken up in between all of that. For those that know how easily and how hard I orgasm, that’s quite a day of a lot of orgasms.

Far, far too many orgasms. It was ridiculously easy to get me to orgasm as the night went on.

In the day, I met a man (Tech Talk) that I went out on a few dates with. It was our first time kissing, so why not move it to our first time fucking as well? He is a very sweet man who is interested and incredibly open minded about kink. We had discussed boundaries and limits dates prior to this and the path was laid out on which directions I could go.

So, I gave him some small tastes of kink. I began by giving him different sensations. My fingers swept softly, my nails raked angry red trails down his body. My mouth kissed gently, sucked, nibbled a lot, and then once I realized he had a high pain threshold – bit roughly everywhere; he had already shared that he liked to be bit. Silk fabric caressed up and down parts of his body before blindfolding him. I took a Wartenberg Wheel to him, tiny little pinpricks of marks across his skin which he handled so well that I pressed deeply into his skin and blazed intermittent dotted pieces like those in the center of a road showing the trail I traveled for days across his skin.

He kept complimenting me, saying how rare and unusual I was, how exciting, how he scored himself a hot woman, how lucky he was. He complimented my body, my touch, my mouth. He claimed that I was absolutely amazing at giving head.

And then it was his turn to do things to me. He went down on me for so long that I orgasmed, then he fingered me to a few more orgasms. He stretched on a condom and entered me, missionary for just a moment and then around to hands and knees behind me, then laying down completely on my back. He complimented how I felt while pushing for orgasm after orgasm (which was ridiculously easy after going down on me for so long).

We became a sweaty mess  who both claimed that we needed a nap after we were finally done. But I had places to go, so I cleaned up and left him…

…Onto the dungeon.

Where after a negotiation, I had two people co top me, with no genital touching (breasts were fine), no penetration, no marks, no blood or needle play, but name calling and lighter impact were fine…unless I orgasm. That last part was from an off hand comment that I can take more from an orgasm. (Honestly, I didn’t think I would orgasm while there because of the no penetration rule – I didn’t take into account how my body was already sensitive from the orgasms before I arrived at the dungeon.)

As the man came in with his toy bag, she threw in that piece of information, and he asked if I wanted a hitachi. I said maybe, and that I would think on it. So when the man slapped at my vulva and got the rhythm that I could orgasm even without penetration, it was because I was already primed for pleasure from earlier in the day. He was downright gleeful when he denied me an orgasm that way and I so badly wanted it that I was ready to cry for one. The day had made my body so ridiculously ready to climax.

I ended up agreeing to a hitachi. He placed the wand against my wet fabric and the loud buzzing was no match for my moans as the toy so quickly overwhelmed my body and granted me the orgasm that I wanted. He discovered that I could multiple, with one orgasm crashing in on another. The vibrations of a wand are the closest I ever get to coloring, and yet I either arch to press myself further against or squirm to get away from it – he was having none of shifting away and the toy throbbed all the more harder against my lips. I became very loud in volume when orgasm after orgasm was forced on me, with some impact occasionally thrown in, which provided a short but painful break to breathe but not lessening my volume as I groaned when contact was made. There could have been a room full of people, and so caught up in receiving either pleasure or pain, I could’ve cared less.

It was during this point that 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. I did try but ended up looking at her right when it finished, thanking her at the same time.

Afterwards, we all stayed where we were for a bit while I drifted back to reality and got dressed. Then we went into the kitchen area and visited with other people. He looked across the table from me after some time passed and said that he wanted to play again.

So off we went, with the Hitachi and his hands and his words, where I orgasmed until the dungeon closed. Fortunately, he is the one who closes up so I didn’t feel pressured to run out the door – he even walked me to my vehicle.

Twelve hours of orgasms, where one moment set the pace and the path for so many more to be enjoyed over and over again in different ways. I never would have believed my body was so capable of sustaining that many in one day.

*This is the third of seven posts from this one day:Wicked Wednesday

To read the negotiation and beginning play, click here.

To read about more details during orgasming with these awesome two, click here.

Jun 142016
 

Mr. Texas took leave, a whole four days. I had every intention of corrupting my sweet darling vanilla. Just a little, just some baby steps.

So on the way to a rope social, with an hour drive ahead of us, I asked about limits. I like having meaningful conversations and getting to know my partners on car rides.

“Tell me if you’ve done these, are curious about it, soft limit – which maybe with some time and knowledge you may be willing, or hard limit – which is a hell no you wouldn’t consider it.”

He gave me that serious look, the one that I see on a daily visit. It’s the look I get when I warn him away, when I tell him we’re moving too fast, when he’s explaining why we should just go with the flow, or when I’ve had a bad day and he’s listening. That look, with his gorgeous hazel/green eyes and long eyelashes (seriously, why do more men have them?),  said to tread carefully right now.

“Blindfold.” I tried to think of a very non threatening thing to mention that most people have tried – of course my darling didn’t even do oral sex before me and thought that was kinky.

“Maybe I’ve done it. If I did, it was forever ago. Curious.”

“Great,” I flashed him a smile when he turned to look at me. “Then that’s up this weekend.” I had already brought a blindfold, and a few other things, to his house in preparation of his corruption. “Bondage.”

“Be specific.”

“Really?” we had already discussed my velcro cuffs, we were headed to a rope event. He turned and gave me a look. “Okay, rope bondage or velcro cuffs, tied ankles and wrists.”

“Curious.”

“Great, another for this weekend.” I paused, thinking of my intentions so I received all the consent I needed. “Hot wax.” I really didn’t think we would do this, but I brought a candle, just in case.

“On who?”

“Well, either of us. Me, if you’d like. You, if you’ll let me.”

“If you liked it, then I’d be willing on you. Soft on me.”

“Okay, fair enough. And maybe if you like doing it to me, I can convince you to try it with your body as well.”

Another look. Whatever, I’m used to them. It’s an overused look with me. Might as well push on. “I already tried the pinwheel on you. Up for it again?”

“Maybe.”

“Great, that’s a yes to me.” Look. Flashed smile in return. Rinse and repeat. “Nipple clamps.”

“Well I know you like them,” I’m not sure how he got that impression, but they are excellent for predicament bondage so I may have mentioned them a time or two or dozen.

“Gag?”

“Tell me the appeal for you.” So I did: I discussed how it was control and power play, how it was a more quiet mind and further surrender into just feeling. “Maybe. I could see that.”

Hmm, I didn’t pack a gag. Oh well, I can makeshift one. “Face sitting.”

“What? Why?” He didn’t sound enthusiastic about this one, yet the man loved going down on me. I was a bit surprised.

“What if you’re tied up and I want to have sex with you, but I’m not wet. Your mouth would help that issue so that I could have sex with you.”

“Okay, that would be fine.” I was a bit taken aback that it almost wasn’t.

“Vibrators. Clearly on me, as we’ve already discussed no penetration for you.”

“Hard limit. I just don’t see the point. I just…no.” He didn’t even hesitate.

What the heck?! I did bring a vibrator, as I wanted to give him the experience of both tying and being tied up, and I figured it would be a fun thing to bring. It was just a vibrator. His claiming hard limit took me aback on something that I viewed as so simplistic – but I needed to be understanding and respectful of his limits. Still, in a way that I simply can’t help, I was already thinking how to slowly introduce a vibrator into our sex life.

“Knife play?”

“Curious. You’ve talked about it so much. And here’s the thing – I don’t see the appeal but after hearing you discuss it or you approaching me with the idea so often, it’ll seem more normal, more something I’m willing to try.”

“Fantastic, then we’ll get along great, as long as you keep an open mind. I’ll expose you to a lot of different things.” I remembered my own journey into kink with my old fashioned husband – wondered briefly why I was trying this again with someone so lacking experience, but remembered that the more I was exposed to things, the more I wanted to try them and the experience was easier with someone beside me. I looked over at him and thought some people are just worth the patience.

I don’t believe that he’ll be my forever – I’m not even sure he’ll be my next month, but for this month he was mine and he was eager to experience new things with me.

And for now, that was enough…even if vibrators were a hard limit.