Feb 232018
 
February Photofest

496px-Gustav_Klimt_010

The original inspiration from Art Twist, it was mentioned that “Danaë was visited by Zeus, symbolized here as the golden rain flowing between her legs. It is apparent from the subject’s face that she is aroused by the golden stream,” –Wikipedia.

My own take of being overwhelmed, in this case the photo was taken as I was tied in a standing position, multiple orgasms by this point, and the rope was tied around my nipples and then attached to a wand. The vibrations felt like a force that couldn’t be contained and another orgasm ensued.

Jan 212018
 

I am immensely curious: what’s in your player pack?

When I first began the negotiations between Mimir and myself (though realistically the real negotiations happened between Mimir and my ex-husband on what makes me tick and the scenes I like), Mimir requested a few items be kept at his house, that he would put in a bag for just me (I wasn’t his only partner). When we broke it off because I was moving across country, he return my pack of items – including the bag I originally dropped off the items in.

I consider this a player pack, and for some reason I woke up this morning and thought of what items were in that bag (most of the bag is still intact). We would use far more items than what was in this pack, but it was a collection of things that were just between us (not to mention that he had a playlist as well tailored towards our scenes).

In our player pack was:

  • Rope for fluid bonding: he was the first one that made me conscious of that as my ex-husband and I never thought of it, he also suggested I provided it since I’m super picky about my rope and he knew it being my friend first;
  • Blindfold: he bought this and I began to appreciate how a blindfold fit my face just right – it’s cute pink satin with a blank outline of a wink and is still my go-to blindfold;
  • A glass dildo;
  • Wartenberg wheel: such an evil little thing;
  • A soft dildo attachment for the Hitachi wand;
  • Clothespins – though he had stuck them in there I don’t believe that we had used them yet – it may have been for future scene he was planning.

It made me curious about if I had to create a player pack currently – just a few go-to items, what would my current player packs look like (which of course would not include everything we play with, just what is most used)?

Mr. Texas does not have a bag since we live together, but if he had a player pack it would include:

  • a blindfold (the same one Mimir gave me as it’s my favorite);
  • a cane that is just between the two of us;
  • a crop I use on him more than the other way around (that The Wanderer bought me);
  • a vibrator is beginning to factor more in which I’m thrilled about.
  • Rope that I’m fluid bonded to, though I don’t think rope factors very much into our play,
  • the same with a particular knife that we agreed is just between us.
  • A new addition is a curry comb – such an interesting combination of sensations and uses I’m learning.
  • I’d like if an anal plug would become a bit more frequent as well.

The Wanderer is mostly out of my everywhere rope bag as we both meet while traveling:

  • so a blindfold – I have several to choose from – my favorite is purple leather, though I have a longer scarf length of silk that I purchase to also use with some rope suspensions;
  • my rope that I fluid bonded to since orgasm play tends to be a big part of our dynamic;
  • nipple clamps;
  • and then out of my usual rope bag is one of his evil belts and my vibrator.

Apparently, a blindfold is an absolute must for me – both as a top and as a bottom; not being able to see is so hot on both sides of the coin, the surprise of what is to come. I believe it will always be a go-to in any bag/dynamic for me.

Player packs don’t have to be very big, as with my two current partners their hands are the most used toys, but extra things that are used regularly – what would those be?

And now I’m immensely curious: what are in other people’s player packs?

If you feel comfortable enough – would you share with me?

Wicked Wednesday

Jan 122018
 

It began with laying in the middle of the bed, putting on a blindfold. The vast majority of our scenes begin with such a start.

I was caned on the thighs and butt for much longer than normal, rhythmic to the songs to help  lull a quiet mind as it is hypnotic. His fists were next; there is something about knuckles sinking deep into muscles that feels amazing even as it hurts. Punched primarily on thighs, my body jerked with the impact, pressed more fully into the bed. Next, he instructed me to roll over so he could cane nipples – not something that we’ve done much of. The front side of my body was warm from being against the mattress, my backside heated from sting and impact; perhaps it was the warmth that allowed my nipples to handle it much better than I would have imagined. The stinging rod came down and set the already sensitive nubs further alive, more responsive, created a triangle of sensation from nipple to tense low and make me wet.

Rope was sensually strung and rubbed over skin: the inside of my wrists, thighs parted to welcome the twisted fibers, between lips where those same fibers felt rougher amid such sensitivity, breasts and of course the overly receptive nipples. He was unhurried, deliberate in the trail that the rope would follow, created paths that awakened my entire body to touch – not just the more focused upon areas. As wrists were tied, he directed whichever attached hand to grip his cock, and wrapped the rope while receiving treatment from my palm and fingers. I felt his desire growing, a brief interruption as one hand was tied up before the other hand was guided to continue such explorations.

Legs were folded ankle to back of thigh, pressed painfully together tightly in rope, before pulled wide apart at the knees and tied where I felt exposed. The room fan more fully showcased how parted my lips were as the breeze in the room touched wet pink places. A Doxy wand was tied in and barred the breeze’s access between my thighs, pressed at my entrance, began on a low rumble. Eventually, he slowly increased speed as he played with my body with caressing fingertips and his gifted mouth.

“How many orgasms?”

I was unsure, took a guess of three.

“Not enough.” He pressed the wand even harder against my wetness, increased the vibrations until I felt far too overstimulated, thighs tensed and made the rope more painful around. He replaced the scream in my mouth with his cock, sound vibrations reverberated along his shaft through another orgasm before allowing me to breathe.

His mouth was attentive to my nipples, those torturous pinpoints of pleasure throughout my orgasmic torment of the wand.

I begged him to fuck me; he teased me that something else would be inside of me; used my mouth instead, again through another orgasm.

Mercilessly, the wand throbbed between my legs. I begged for it to stop, for him to be inside of me. Again, I received a substitute as he inserted an anal plug – the edge touching the wand and reverberating the vibrations throughout the plug.

Begged again. This time the wand was stopped and rope was casually removed between my thighs holding the toy as his hot mouth slanted down and tongue tasted my orgasms, his fingers occasionally joining in to brush against the sides of my wet lips or delving into my depths.

Already overworked with sensations, his mouth was divine torture. I tensed against his lips, would have grinded myself more fully into his face except he was still unhurriedly untying my thighs. A brief respite as the rope was removed far too quickly to give a true break in passion.

Still, I begged him to fuck me.  He denied me yet again, this time a vibrator was inserted deeply into my drenched depths, slammed in and out. I arched, having full access to my body again, almost came off the bed as I came in sharp waves of pleasure.

I didn’t know how much more I could take, begged he take me instead. He commented on all my begging, encouraged me to let him know how badly I wanted him. When he heard enough, my hands finally felt the purchase of his shoulders, his hips cushioned between my thighs, the head of his cock pressed through the initial resistance of my entrance before pushing down into my body.

Unlike his more slow teasing and taunting up to this point, he kept up a maddening quick pace with sex, rammed almost painfully against my walls, made me come all the more harder from the impact, changed the positions after every couple of orgasms he took from me. Once, when I was rolled over on all fours with knees on the edge of the bed, he grabbed the Doxy wand as he was thrusting in and out and pressed it against the anal plug; my body tensed with the additional sensation and pushed against him and the wand. As he rocked in and out, I felt the plug moving with his hips and cock. I clenched around him in my own orgasms, felt him finally find his own release.

Sweaty, panting, exhausted, I crumpled onto the mattress and he chuckled as he snuggled around my prone form.

Though that led to more caressing, more playing, as my responsiveness tempted him to continue. I asked for his fingers to be shoved in and stretch, wanted to feel more sore in my cunt, screamed through an orgasm that he granted. He lifted my legs, curled them up to gain access to the back of my thighs and bottom to punch, eventually getting tired and moved to his forearms making contact instead of fists, occasionally the impact touched my soaked lips and the plug, created further tension that eventually led to another orgasm.

Tempted by my reactions, again we had so much sex that this time I begged in and out of pleasurable waves of consciousness. Begged to stop, begged not to stop, screamed yes, screamed no. He pounded in and out of my confused pleas until he found his own orgasm.

Snuggled for the second time, his fingers lazily grazed against my skin, made their way between my legs. “You’re so swollen,” he murmured against my ear, which apparently meant I needed to be treated to my vibrator. An orgasm tore through my body and I was unaware of my reaction as I launched away from him, grabbed the vibrator out and threw it on the floor far away from me. He laughed at my unexpected defense instinct against overwhelming pleasure and called a truce.

Exhausted, prompted to clean myself up, he then tucked me in between the sheets and left me alone to pass out into a deep and well deserved sleep the rest of the night.

Masturbation Monday badge - small

Dec 292017
 
Sinful Sunday
I like to play with clothespins with him, most often while I’m teasing him with my mouth, body, hands.

In this particular case, I believe it was more innocent. I clasped the clothespins on his side, straddled his hips, and massaged his back. I made my thighs dug in extra hard at times, hurting my own skin the process of torturing him with the little wooden clamps.

*apparently UK people call this a peg

Dec 212017
 

Masturbation Monday badge - smallI am very orgasm hungry, I think it rules my drive more than the wanting sex (unless I’m ovulating, that trumps anything).

I am incredibly lucky that I orgasm easily, it lends itself to how greedy, how needy I can be. The first orgasm is the longest work and hardest to maintain – it is also often the weakest. All it does is feed my craving for another. My body is tenser, tighter, wanting and willing to work towards the second orgasm – which is always just on the horizon, easy to view and not hard to slide into.

The catch, of course, is that the second orgasm makes it easier to come harder and faster. And the third makes me far more greedy than the first. On and on my body goes, wanting the next – it’s not always that the subsequent ones are harder nor even better, fireworks do not suddenly explode in orgasm splendor; but the more that I orgasm, the easier it is for me to reach another one. When every nerve is sensitive and feels pleasurable, it’s a challenge to not pursue that pleasure.

It’s also why I can orgasm in such a multiple of ways: after the first one through what almost always needs to be obtained by penetration, other avenues to orgasm open up. I have come from just rubbing between my lips, from anal stimulation (or sex), from nipples, from pain like spanking, or slapping, from fist thrumming against my butt or thighs, the knuckles sinking through muscles and hitting what feels like bone.

I have orgasmed from soft sensations like feathers or sheets, from cold sensations like fans or even cold porcelain, from heat like melted wax or a hot breath pressed just right against my hot skin and brushing its way past more sensitive zones.

Teeth, something I normally don’t appreciate on myself, feel amazing as they sink into my skin at the climax. I become rougher in my pursuit of pleasure, more aggressive, my hips thrust up, I squeeze the person involved, my nails or teeth dig in to the point of marking. I beg, I plead, I become desperate to hit the next wave that is always just a sensation away. I sweat, I moan, I grunt – there is nothing sexy or coy about me at this point, I looked wrecked, flushed red and blotchy in places since I am curse to be pale – even my skin tells the tale of my madness.

I can have a moment’s respite, a person can promise to not make me come anymore, but a glance of their fingertips, a breath washing across my skin, and I am primed and pumped for the smallest touch to make me melt and meld all over again. It’s why I can seem tireless one minute in the chase of an orgasm and asleep after a moment’s respite.

I can also have after quakes of orgasms, my muscles inside so clenched that they rub against themselves  and create the friction needed, or suddenly the tension releases and the relaxation of the muscles inside make me shiver in a tiny pleasurable way.

But here is why I think that I am more orgasm driven than sex driven – I don’t need sex to be in this condition. Fingers, a toy, a mouth will work just as well – and even that may just be for the first or second only as I need the penetration.

Also, I can go for months without sex or masturbation and not be bothered in the slightest, as shown during my time as a military spouse separated from my husband – it didn’t mean that I didn’t miss him or miss pleasure, but I didn’t need it, and if he wasn’t around, didn’t feel the urge to pursue an orgasm (only exception was again when I was ovulating strongly, then I masturbated for the day or two).

This works well if, in my relationship dynamic, a boundary is no sex – as was the case with Mimir and is with The Wanderer.

There is a negative to this, however; I am more vulnerable, more agreeable, less verbal, less rational and more easily manipulated after multiple orgasms. It’s why orgasm play – where the goal is multiple orgasms – tends to be something I won’t engage in unless I trust the person. I also appreciate how eventually my partner(s) stop – whether they are tired or they deem I am, as with more orgasms I am less likely to be aware that I need a break, that my body is sore or dehydrated.