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

 

 

Nov 052014
 

We’ve decided with done with pegging. I am honestly relieved. I was only doing it for  him, it was something that he wanted to experiment in, and we’ve been off and on trying it for almost a year.

Can’t say we didn’t give it a chance.

There were parts that were hot, like I was definitely in control.

That was also immensely, contradictory unappealing. I don’t want control, of any kind, and despite most of our attempts at otherwise, innately I am in control.

The control issue with pegging was the biggest turn off for me. Last night, before we decided we were done, he grabbed my hair and fucked my mouth briefly, and I thought it would be a great night. Then he ordered me to fuck him. I tried to look at it as I was not in control, I was being ordered to pleasure  him. I couldn’t see it that way. And with no foreplay for myself, a brief moment of him in control, I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to feel sexy about it nor submissive about it.

The reason why I was always willing to do it, and happily, is that his orgasms were hot to witness during the act. I would start off slowly easing the way into him while just as slowly stroking his cock. When he was adjusted, I would speed up and increase the thrusting, he would take off stroking himself. As a rare treat, because I wasn’t being physically pleased, my eyes would be on him the whole time; I would witness every expression or gaze at his expert hand helping to pleasure himself. When he would cum, he would gush – which he only does with this activity.

Downside is the is the only pleasure I get from pegging is watching him be pleased. It is enough for me as I love his pleasure. Even though we bought the dildo that goes into me, with a vibrator that I feel, it does nothing for me to help achieve my own climax.

And I cannot feel anything – it isn’t my body in him. I have no idea when he clenches, how tight he is, etc..  It is this separate entity between us. He says it doesn’t feel the same way when I peg him as it does when he engages in anal stimulation without me, and I can understand why: I have no idea how he’s feeling nor what I am doing in there besides reading his body language and responding with what I think is best.

I am not offended that I am not skilled at this. And if he wanted to continue, I would gladly peg him. Even more practice may eventually make perfect.

But for myself, I am relieved that we have decided (at least for now) to stop. It wasn’t working for us.

And I’m glad we voiced that. He mistakenly thought I loved it, and while I’m glad I could enthusiastically put myself in the activity, I didn’t enjoy it beyond seeing his pleasure-despite my best intentions. I’m glad I put my fear of hearing failure aside and asked him honestly if it was working, especially since he stated that it is so different with just him playing with anal stimulation versus with me pegging him.

 Posted by at 9:02 am
Aug 142014
 

I made a list of things to do in my domination. So far he had prepared the massage wax for later, tied the straps to the posts and shortened them to bind himself, found our blindfold, fingered me to an orgasm, edged himself (fucking hot and challenging for him), and had sex with me – bringing me to three orgasms but ordered not to cum himself.

When the list said it was time to be tied up, he touched me and was punished.

Strapped back in, I commented how nice and relaxed I was, how I needed to cum. He agreed good naturedly. After placing the blindfold, I kissed his body, always with a teasing sensation rather than for any real pleasure. I straddled and put just the tip inside of me, saw his sexy smile, slowly slid down, slowly slid up, stopped at the tip and bounced with him right at my entrance for a minute, and then slid off of him and straddled his face.

He licked and sucked while I rode his face. I stopped him before it became too pleasurable for me – I didn’t need to be distracted.

Then the knife came out. Up and down, glided across his smooth skin, cold against his neck, scratched across his nipple, traveled over thighs and then ever so gently around his sex. My mouth would occasionally wander to where his skin was coldest from the blade to warm him up and give him the contrast. His noises showed his appreciation and shock at the temperature play.

I put the knife back in the ice bucket and put on a glove. Kissed his shaft as I put on lube, I carefully inserted first one and then two fingers into his anus. I watched his face. I checked in with him to make sure I had enough lubrication – we are both so inexperienced at anal play still. Then I grabbed the glass dildo out of the ice and rubbed it across his neck. His sharp intake of breath made me smile. Continuing to finger him, I slid the freezing glass across his body, took delight in seeing him fighting against the urge to shiver as it traveled up the inside of his thighs. When I moved it in between his cheeks, I paused to use more lubrication and then slowly – always watching his face for comfort – inserted the cold implement.

Once it was all the way in, and he was more comfortable with both the temperature and the size, he commented, “who would put something like that in ice first?”

I laughed. “Only someone truly cruel,” I answered, thinking to how often he did that to me.

I kissed his body while moving the glass in and out at a slow, cautious pace. After a bit, I stopped. “One of the last tasks,” I stated, untying him and removing the blindfold. “Put me in the strap stuff.”

He stood up next to me and helped me slip into the harness and inserted the bulb of the dildo into my body. As he was making sure the straps were tight, I kissed his neck and bit playfully. When he stood back up, I marveled at how tall he was, how handsome.

Then told him to lay back down with a pillow and towel under his hips. He obeyed, and slowly I inserted the large dildo into him. I leaned down to kiss him when it was fully in, knew he liked tender moments during sex, then leaned up and began thrusting my hips back and forth, took the dildo almost out and then back in with a rhythm that I liked. He began stroking himself and came almost immediately, great white droplets on his hand, his stomach and chest, even the pillow under his head. He climaxes so hard from being pegged, that part is so sexy to me.

I slowed my movements to a stop, then withdrew from his body. “Go clean yourself, and then lay back down.” He listened, and while he was in the bathroom I discarded the strap on gear, stripped the towel and replaced it with another along the side of the bed. When he came back in, I patted the bed where the towel was laying. Though he didn’t need aftercare, and I applied no pain element since he dislikes it, I poured massage wax over his back and thighs and gave him a massage – which I washed off in the shower we took afterwards. Another element to show him how much I appreciated him.

The whole thing lasted two hours, as I wanted to make sure that I covered a wide range of sensations and varying degrees of domination and love. While we ate lunch that I prepared afterwards, he commented that he liked it, that he appreciated being the center of attention and focus of sensations for so long. It’s the most specific he has ever been – I am grateful for the feedback and not feeling like a failure yet again.

In writing about the experience, I find it dry and matter of fact. This is perhaps because I was matter of fact in my approach, that because I was truly so focused on him that I didn’t allow myself to think or even feel much during the experience. I had very little sensations to describe. And I was nervous in trying to give him what he wanted but couldn’t voice.  Sadly I feel that I will always maintain this type of distance from the experience, but I am thrilled that he loved what I did, and less reluctant to try again now.

 Posted by at 9:10 am
Feb 072013
 

“Come here.”

I move to place myself in front of him. Proud and naked, ready to obey his will. He places the rope around my neck and tells me it looks lovely, I wear it well.

This isn’t the first time he has tied me up. But it is it is the first time he’s laid me out and composed my body in such a way that I cannot move myself. Helpless.

He teases me, caresses me. Brings his beautiful cock within inches of my eager mouth just to tsk me for moving towards it, then he moves it away. Admonishing me for being greedy.

“The thing about you is, you like to touch. I think it is a far greater deprivation to take that away from you then to withhold caressing you.”

He’s right. He knows me. I’m strong and proud and independent. However, one of my biggest weaknesses is my love of tactile sensory input. To feel his smooth skin under my finger tips, to kiss and caress him. These are the things I crave.

Today I find it hard to find zen. To obtain that place of bliss and quiet in my head. My subspace. I feel each strike, I jump nervously at small caresses. I’m not being very good.

“You don’t want my gifts? Why aren’t you receiving my gifts?”

I try but no words are forthcoming. I don’t know what has thrown me off. Everything is so intense, so deep. I love every part of everything this man does to me, but today I’m making him think that I doubt.

With a sigh he gives me fulfillment, he slides into my depth and it’s like fireworks going off in my body. The position of my head and my shoulders is such that my position feels precarious. There’s a massive dresser just beyond my bed and with my wrists tied to my ankles, severe injury would occur if I went over.

I ask if we can scoot up, I can feel myself sliding closer with each powerful thrust of his hips. He drives on, harder now, knowing of my fear.

“Trust me,” he says.

I swallow, I try.

“Trust me.”

My eyes sting with the burn of tears and one delicate stream runs out of each eye.

He looms close to my face with a stare so intense it bores into my soul.

“I will always keep you safe, I will NEVER let you get hurt. Trust me.”

The tears are coursing down my cheeks now, but I do. I trust him with everything that I am and I know that he will do as he says. He knows about my horrible anxieties and that this is the ultimate surrender to him.

He is merciful. After I acquiesce, he moves me from the edge. He kisses my tears, salty on his lips. He cuddles me and caresses me and lets me know I am safe.

I’ve learned a lesson I already knew in the back of my head. He will always keep me safe. To him I am precious and something of great value to be cared for and loved. All that is required of me is to let go, to trust, to allow him to lead. I found my space that day, my subspace. The warm pleasant glow after play stayed with me, warming my soul. All because I was willing to follow, over the edge even if need be, safe in my lovers embrace.

Find out who is being wicked with me this Wednesday.
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