Nov 282017
 

https://pixabay.com/en/legs-theatre-cabaret-building-2144697/

To be, or not to be the school girl was the question of the night. I stared at the skirt in my hands and let my eyes drift over to the Mary Jane stripper heels, before rolling them at the whole scenario. I’ve always prided myself on being open sexually and game to try anything, but I didn’t know if I could pull this one off.

Random A fun fact: I don’t usually go beyond two or three different phrases in the heat of sex talk. The reason being, I think I sound very, very special, and not the OMG-look-at-her-take-that-whole-banana special, more like the I-confused-snack-foods-for-my-vagina special (see Twitter). So this then has me limiting myself to a few key phrases I have grown comfortable saying.

This obviously doesn’t lend itself to being a genius sexy-kitten role player. So, with visions of him thinking he is fucking William Shatner in a plaid skirt, I was a bit apprehensive to fulfill this particular fantasy. This is when my real acting skills shine. I could charm the pants off of a nun, so I quickly started trying to come up with ways and excuses not to do this.

So far the only go-to move I could come up with was to just be naked and waiting, and get his dick inside of my mouth as quickly as possible. Maybe he wouldn’t notice the lack of pigtails and super itchy skirt. In a mild, sarcastic panic for a bit, I indulged the fantasies of pleading illness or insanity (I call it the snack food defense), before coming to grips that I had to at least try.

Sigh. He’d indulged the things I wanted to try, and the nightmare of getting all of that honey out of his chest hair meant that I owed it to him to at least attempt the school girl thing. On went the white knee highs which I couldn’t help but admire sliding over my smooth, tan legs. Naughty red lace thong gracing the ample ass I’d come to love, that blasted skirt….

Ruby red lips in a nervous smile and a slight fidget greeted him as he came in the door. His eyes lit up in appreciation as he took in the sight of me, and my body relaxed. William Shatner or no, I knew we were going to have a great time together. He came over to take me in his arms and I made some coy remark about “Oh Mr. So-and-So! What are you doing!?” because it was his fantasy and he was breaking the rules.

It was bad… The only thing missing was the dramatic hand placed against my forehead and the fluttering of my lashes. He laughed. A lot. I laughed. Role playing just wasn’t something I was ever going to be good at, but laughter during sex I can handle.

He tumbled me to the bed, and I am grateful to say, the rest of the evening was just “Let’s fuck A with a plaid skirt on and try to avoid getting stabbed with the stripper heels” instead of the Shakespearean acting session I had been dreading all day.

Sometimes, as long as you try, the failed attempts at kink can be just as hot and fulfilling as those you can do like a pro.

April 24, 2013

 

Nov 212017
 

https://pixabay.com/en/us-army-soldiers-army-men-waiting-379036/

I didn’t mean to become their Morale officer… Seriously, it was unintentional.

In military lingo, a “Morale officer” is a woman who has sexual relations with the unit… THE WHOLE UNIT.

Now, it wasn’t as bad as all that, however I did sleep my way through their enlisted command structure, just in time for deployment.

It was a complete, sexy, lascivious accident. When Ex and I broke up, we had been together for almost 6 years… OF COURSE I HAD A SLUT FEST! My sex life with Ex was horrible. It rarely happened, there was no foreplay, and we had premature ejaculation problems that we never did work around. That was a glaring deficit in our relationship.

I first met One right after I decided I could no longer be in my relationship. It was a hard choice to make and took a very long time to make it. I was depressed, downtrodden, and completely lost. One night I went out with a girlfriend and we saw a man she knew. He was 6’8 to my 5 ft and exuded sex. There really wasn’t a question about where I was going that night. In fact, my friend arranged everything because all I could do was stare and fantasize.  After 6 years, going home with One was like being a teenager again.

One of the things that frustrated me about my previous sex life was that Ex always treated me like I was breakable, when all I wanted was to be manhandled. I could tell instantly, One didn’t think I was breakable and if he did then he wanted me to shatter. He tossed me around like a rag doll, made me do what HE wanted, and if I said “ow” he ignored it unless I asked him to stop… I didn’t ask him to stop much. The sex was incredible and lasted forever. Round after round of virile foreplay, sex, breath, repeat. I went home with some small bruises and a huge grin. He was just what I needed at the time and helped me reclaim my own sexuality.

After a time I started dating again and I met this great guy Two. We spent a lot of time together having fun, drinking with friends, and acting young. Then I finally took him to bed….That was the end of that relationship. At one point during the sex I wanted to tell him to put his pants back on, and for God’s sake stop making that noise! After evaluating my 6 year relationship I decided I would never compromise on sex again.

Two had introduced my best friend Ava to one of his friends, so while I was no longer seeing Two I was seeing his friend regularly with Ava. We’d all go out and different people would join our group. That’s how I was introduced me to Staff Sargent (truly, that’s all I knew him by). Rawr. The man was a glorious package of wit, rippling muscle, and rock hard desire. He tied me to my bed with my satin ties and worked my body over for hours. When he finally untied me I rode him hard and had orgasm after orgasm. We broke my bed that night. It was casual sex at it’s finest and I wouldn’t take it back for the world.

Ava and her man got along pretty well so he was a recurring part of our lives for a few months. Their relationship was casual, but ongoing. While his unit was getting ready for deployment the amount of time spent out increased. The ladies of my group had no complaint about joining in the fun. We were all out enjoying the entertainment to be had at one of or local stripclubs when I met The Boot. The term “Boot” is used in a derogatory way by more seasoned veterans about people who have just graduated from boot camp.

The kid was 19, had graduated boot camp the week prior, and was going on a very dangerous deployment, with no experience or time in the unit,  the following week. He also apparently had a huge crush on me. Ava’s friend broached the subject with me and I told him that if The Boot wanted to talk to me then he should, you know, talk. I was advised candidly: “go easy on him, he’s probably not coming back from this deployment. He’s either going to get killed, or get someone else killed.”
… Uh.

I had no idea how to respond to that especially after I had this adorable young guy so shyly try to start a conversation and pick up an older, more seasoned woman who would probably eat him alive in bed.
I did the only thing I could do.

I rocked that young Boot’s world so hard he couldn’t walk straight. I blew him until his knees went out, I asked about his fantasies and immediately went about trying to fulfill as many as I could. You want to bring a vibrator into bed? Go for it! On top  on bottom, in front of the mirror, pull my hair, smack my ass until it’s glowing red? Sure thing! He was young, inexperienced, and not the best lay I’d had. If not for their deployment, I probably wouldn’t have brought him home. How though, could I have said no? It didn’t hurt anyone, and at least this way he was leaving with an incredible night to remember when stuck out there for months.

The day before they were set to deploy Ava and I ran into her man at the club. We also ran into One from months before. They were together…they were in the same unit. Along with Staff Sargent and The Boot and Two….

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. No one knew. And it was only then that even I realized I had slept with FOUR men in the same UNIT. While it may have been over the course of 6 months, during the course of their 6 months deployment the chances were zero that they wouldn’t all figure out that I had slept my way down their command structure.

Sure enough, upon their return I found out that everyone knew. I was the units’ Morale Officer. Everyone just kind of found it humorous, and in fact a couple of them asked for return visits; I declined. Now whenever some hot military man in this town approaches me, there’s a tiny voice in the back of my head praying he’s not with this particular unit. When it has happened, I decline developing a relationship. Let me be a legend then, of a deployment, that had a few men a bit more relaxed before they left.

January 25, 2013

Jun 192017
 

We laid in bed and snuggled in. It then that I realized my mouth, as it was inches from him. 

I shut it. Why did I forget my mouth? I could smell the sin on my own breath , surely he would be able to as well. 

Why was so careful to inspect and hide all the evidence of my cheating but my mouth still carried the scent? I should have brushed my teeth, of all the simple things that I simply overlooked!

It was glorious cheating for once, I relished and reveled in a different taste, though my body didn’t care for the experience.

But now that I was literally face to face with him, my lips were sealed, not just with the secret but to not slip proof of my weakness. 

And I realized, it wasn’t worth the risk.

The taste in my mouth became pungent and putrid, it laid on my tongue and made me victim rather than victor. What would he think of me if I were to expose myself as someone who succumbed? 

Hopefully if he pushed his tongue into my mouth to delve and taste, he would think it was a bad breath rather than bad form. But my breath, which gives me life and sustinence may now end something that I hold dear…

If nothing else, I would see, especially this close to his face, the disappointment rather than pride, the distrust.

The chili dogs weren’t worth it.

May 102017
 

When I shave I have perhaps an hour of smooth legs, two if I’m very lucky and it’s been awhile since I shaved.

Mr Texas has commented numerous times that he wants me to shave my legs more, doesn’t want me to grow out my winter coat.

So I bought an epilator and thought I’d give it a try. One test area to my leg after thoroughly researching how to use it and I decided I hated it and that I just couldn’t do that to myself.

So when Mr Texas decided to request three items be placed on the bed, my way of requesting a scene and what kind I wanted, I decided to stick the epilator there with nipple clamps and a vibrator for a pleasure.

“This doesn’t count,” he protested, “find something else.”

“It does too! It’s an instrument of pain and torture, and something I’ll need aftercare from.”

“Find something else.”

So I pouted and deliberated and pick out a knife for the pleasure sensation too – no other painful instrument was to touch me the same night as that epilator.

I laid on the bed naked and hugged a huge fluffy pillow against me; it covered most of my torso and as soon as that demonic device touched my leg and moved, I cried and hit the pillow, my nails trying to pierce the softness and rip it to shreds – luckily the pillow withstood the onslaught.

My legs didn’t feel as though they could survive, around the shin wasn’t as bad but the calf was horrific, I couldn’t lay still and Mr Texas was half exasperated and half laughing at my hysterics.

“I’m definitely a sadist,” I heard him murmur in between a chuckle when I howled at a sensitive bit.

After one leg, he removed the pillow and laid on top of me, his body weight and warmth reassuring as he made hushing and reassuring noises alongside my neck. He kissed and distracted me a bit as I held onto him for all I was worth.

“You are going to need aftercare,” he decided.

“I know,” I wailed pitifully against his neck. “And you’ve still a whole other leg to do.”

May 052017
 

I’ve written about how I’m not kink enough.

Now I’m concerned that I’m not blog worthy. Hell, let’s just say I’m not life worthy. I’m an imposter, something Kayla Lords writes eloquently about.

My sister and I began this blog. I didn’t think I could do it alone, even though I did all the research, read those I admired, had a plan on how to enter the sex blogging community. I didn’t think I had enough to write about, or that my writing wouldn’t be strong enough, or diverse enough. So, I invited my sister into my idea – less scary to jump in alone, and I already knew she was brilliant and talented. Not to mention that she had the most unusual sex life – far more exciting than my own. I asked her to start Sinful Sundays simply because I didn’t have the confidence to be seen – a point she couldn’t believe I asked of her but she flourished under the supportive community until I tip toed in. See how self doubt and comparisons crept in before I ever leaped?

This space here brought us closer. It also caused arguments as my flighty sister in her exciting life couldn’t commit to a post, a timeline, couldn’t be bothered with the responsibility. But we got over those – we were always each other’s biggest supporters and every single thing that she contributed was appreciated and far more than I could ever write. Towards the end, her health halted things on here; she wanted to go towards more of the photo side and show her face – a dilemma that had her creating her own space where she began with old photos, but even though I fully had the reins and was managing it all here, I was rallying for her to begin her own creative journey once she became well enough to do so. I was also curious how soon it would take to pass up on this space – one she had helped create.  I’m sure it was only a matter of time.

And now she’s dead.

When I first began writing my own stories, they were all about my husband. Impersonal erotica at first, and then a glimpse into our marriage – and then our problems. Now this space, my end of the stories, are more journal type though they are relationship and sex centered.

And now he’s gone.

I feel that they took a piece of me with them – I don’t feel that I deserve to be  happy. I feel that I have nothing to write about and no support system to continue this blog – they who were every nook and cranny of the foundation space here.

Sure, I know that I have ran this blog successfully, and that everyone deserves to be happy and pursue their aspirations, but I feel like…

The truth is, I’m unsure what to feel. I’m putting one foot in front of the other, I’m pursuing a relationship with Mr. Texas, I’m being unsuccessful at creating an environment that is multiple-relationships friendly, I’m living a lie.

Every time I felt unsure of myself, I could call my sister. I cannot anymore. I reread her cheerleading words sometimes and they just make me feel more despondent – because she was life in itself and I am nothing more than a fraud pretending to live.

Dec 262016
 


Photo courtesy of Sex is My New Hobby

Welcome to Elust 89

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #90 Start with the rules, come back January 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

 

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

When the Tears Finally Came

The pure and simple truth

One Down

 

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Disabilities & Submission, Part 2: I Say No

UnRepentant Darkness

 

~Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

Hoar Frost…

*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

Hold me down
Keeping me chaste
Say My Name
The Little Things
Struggle…
Learning To Truss
A New Use
My Mania is My Drug
Life as a Laissez-Faire Domme

Erotic Fiction

Watching
Candy, Caned
Jax and Rickie’s First Kiss
New Collar

Sex News, Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Why You Should Make a Sex Tape
And the winner is…doggy style!
Pleasantville: The Promise of Trump’s America
Bdsm reasons for not hitting children
An Open Letter to MrHankeysToys.com

Erotic Non-Fiction

The Fun Of Being Stripped Of Wet Running Kit!
I want to lick your pussy some more
KIDNAP – a story of fear, pain and sex
Sybian
Well, that’s new…
Objectionable Hair – A Lady’s Taboo

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

UnPartnered
The Cub
I still have hope
A Baker’s Dozen #fucketlist

Poetry

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Elust 88

Nov 252016
 

miss-scarlett-header
Photo courtesy of Miss Scarlet Writes

Welcome to Elust 88

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #89 Start with the rules, come back December 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

 

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

Heart stabbing

Redemption: The Sex Goddess Project

Exhibitionish

 

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

An Open Letter To That Cunnilingus Post

I Found Myself Over His Knee

 

 

~Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

Writing Sex Scenes With Less Cissexism, Pt 1

*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

 

Erotic Fiction

Overlook
The Haunting of Iris Day
MERMAID??? Wicked Wednesday #229
Fear, Scents and Sounds
Lady Amore
love is love
Spray
Her Struggle
The New Principal

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Evolving Landscapes
Trust in Me
15 BEST Things About Giving Blowjobs!
With a rebel yell
What lie do you need to hear so we can Fuck?

Erotic Non-Fiction

The Brush
Tasked with asking for what I need
How Old Is Too Old For Wild Lovemaking?
Brass In Pocket
An Unstated Predicament
California Cuisine
Krystal’s First Pegging
Struggling

 

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

That Adult Bookstore Just Outside Town
Creature of the night
MISTRESS IN A DRESS – or out of it
Come Here. I want to Taste You
Terror of the cane! How to make caning sexy

Sex News, Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

11 Signs You Might Be a Side Guy

 

Writing About Writing

Writing Sex Scenes With Less Cissexism, Pt 1

 

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