Jul 242016
 

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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 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.