Prince Albert Piercing

Cammies has a friend who has a piercing through his penis. He loves this piercing, and has nothing but positive things to say about it. Cammies thought it would be a great idea to incorporate this pride and love of an unusual piercing to a great project: The Penis Project. 

What in the world would possess myself to get, or even want, a piercing through my penis? That’s a question I have heard many people ask me; promptly followed by a flood of questions to learn more about this outlandish piercing, the inquiring curiosities get more and vaguer with the amount asked, beating around the bush (pun intended). Finally, the last inevitable question is asked: can I see it? 

I have always been fascinated by getting my penis pierced, yet could never get the balls to just go do it. There were many things holding me back at the time. Pain: does it hurt and how bad, can something go wrong, is there a real benefit, will anyone still want to sleep with me, how is it even done?

First thing I began to do is research - I spent at least 5 years off and on looking up everything on the internet, ranging from the traditional Prince Albert (PA), reverse Prince Albert, Ampallang, and Apadravya piercing. I was surprised at how many ways with different piercings there are (the four are just a small amount of type of piercings that one can get). However, those four were what intrigued me the most. It didn’t take very long to decide on going with a traditional PA - it had been around the longest, not to mention most common for men to have, and does not require one to find a specialized piercer.

Whenever getting any kind of piercing there is always side effects; I don’t care what anyone says. Some can be very minimal, others can dramatically change your physicality. As for the PA, the only major thing that can go wrong, assuming the piercer is clean and sterile, is some loss of sensation. Risks fall on more the person getting it done than the piercer; if not kept clean, infection would only be the other real issue.

Pain: some enjoy it, others faint at the thought. I was definitely not afraid of pain, I assured myself that I have felt much more pain, and I could handle whatever the piercing would feel like; however, when talking about my penis, I really had to question if I wanted to subject myself to pain in such a sensitive area. I had the luxury of having a friend who has had his PA for a while, and asked him if it was worth it. Smirking, he replied, “yeah.” He is quite proud of this piercing, and encourages any man to get it. That was enough of a deciding factor to go for it, especially at the point of my life that I was in.

Walking into my local piercing studio, I asked if he could do a PA today. I went to the same piercer that my friend had went to. Once all the paperwork had been filled out, he took me back to his booth, and much to my surprise we sat talking about all the whole process from beginning to end: what to expect, how to breathe, what his process of piercing was. That alone help put me at great ease. As the piercer began to do the actual piercing, he had to put a catch tube partly down the urethra; it created a very interesting pain, like a sharp tingling point (almost like a burning pee or more painful than getting soap in your urethra). However, that is the worst part of the whole experience (not including foregoing sex or masturbation for two weeks; to which I only lasted 9 days). That first time was slightly painful - more so because I did not wait the full amount of time that I was instructed (I don’t always do what I’m told).

Once my PA was healed, I was all over myself.  The pleasure increased with every orgasm, feeling new sensations every time, not to mention different sensations with different jewelry. I didn’t know it was even possible to feel that kind of ecstasy. It starts at the very tip, almost like a vibrator on the head, as it travels down the shaft continually tingling through the very core, or the urethra. As it vibrates more and more, the sting gets even powerful with every stroke with the jewelry that I prefer, which takes more concentration to turn what some may consider pain into a superior ecstasy. (Again, that is the jewelry that I prefer – there is more stimulus, more exhilaration for me to have a measure of pain.) I will pick up speed, and then slows down, to enjoy the new sensitivity running through my body. When I do reach the point of rapture, I will often have to catch my breath, and ponder upon the newest revelations that has occurred.

Summer Motivation

M here.

Sorry postings have been slimmer, though I'll explain an amazing time to be had. A, being the playful, little single she is, isn't the most consistent at blogging, though brilliant about articulating her adventures.

As for me, summer is a time of travel, as the kids have off. It is also a time where my husband and I are most assuredly separated, whether by moving, deployments, or I leave him to visit family, etc..It just seems to work that way.

So I don't have a lot of sexy inspiration during the summer, being busy and focused on the kids and their agendas more. Doesn't leave a lot of time for sex (but my masturbation time increases). Kids just have a way of sucking all the sexiness out of life.

On the bright side of all this, while playing a game together with a group of friends, my husband and I bet that I couldn't hold out 11 minutes and 18 seconds until I orgasmed (it would have been the third time). I really didn't think I would win it, but I did! Our friends were kind enough to listen to me orgasm on Skype, and helped keep track of time. My prize: an hour of being tied up.

The next day over the phone he went into delicious detail about painting a picture of what to expect: wrists tied with an immediate orgasm by fingers to keep me extra sensitive, then by oral sex, and again possibly by vibrator. Then ankles tied with knife, wax, cold glass, ice cubes, vibrator...um, I may be forgetting a few other implements. Edging, he promised/threatened five times, before allowing me to be pleased by the sixth. I believe my ankles would also be tied by my wrists by this point. Next tied position, laying on my stomach. Gosh, I believe a spreader and a plug and paddle by this point...anyhow, I have to patiently wait at least another month to have this become a reality, and I am not a patient person.

And while I was listening to the deep, sensual pitch of his voice, almost hypnotic, I couldn't help brushing my fingertips over my puckered nipples, around the soft globe of my breasts, down the curves of my waist and hips, and up my inner thighs. His words went into such great detail on where he would move, what he would do, how he would smile even (though I wouldn't be able to see through the blindfold), that I tightened with expectation. My fingertips grazed my clit, and stayed there for a few minutes, teasing my body in tone with his words, before sliding into my slick folds. I was slowly rubbing, tingling pleasantly with the soft strokes in and out, but when he began talking about edging and finally allowing me to cum, my fingers tensed up and curled and I came.

Hmm, this may be why the details of being flipped over are hazier than the rest. I heard every word, extended my pleasure to the rhythm of his story, but yet...memory with pleasure just isn't strong.

Anyhow, inspiration promises to come in spades. We are going to experiment and play to a teasing level that we haven't yet, and I'm curious how my sensitive body will handle it all.

And while I have to patiently wait for this, hopefully smaller inspirations will be granted. Until then, apologies for the sparse posts. A and I will continue on in the tempo we are motivated to.

-M

How you know I'm ready

The buildup, it takes me higher and higher until I can't think. Tied up, immobile. Unable to move and at his mercy.  He knows my limits and he pushes them always.

I haven't seen him in so long and he is determined to make up for lost time. New pleasures, new tortures, all await me. I brought toys of the delightful kind, he brought toys of the torturous.

I'm bound from head to foot in a delightful design with the ropes that were cut just for me. He fits a ball gag in my mouth, a new toy for us. He'd had me wear my plug out all afternoon while we running errands and now, he was making me enjoy its presence.

My heart rate spikes as he tells me it's best not to have the plug in for what comes next, it might be too intense. That's when I hear something click, and a whoosh; just before something small has a sharp impact on the tender flesh of my inner thigh...

Gloves have spanked and smoothed skin, a leather belt has lashed welts into tender flesh, and now this new tantalizing curiosity. I've no idea what it is. Another click, another sharp sting of impact. A few more and he asks if I know what it is.

I'm forced to answer in the negative. I've no clue as to what the object is, and frankly, it's hard to think clearly with the exquisite torture I'm being put through as is. That's when he raises my blindfold and it takes me a moment to identify the bright orange and blue object in my lovers sadistically clever hands...

It's a nerf gun. I'm currently being shot in the pussy with a nerf gun. He switches now to the gloves again, my tender flesh brightly red from its abuse. Suddenly my lover uses yet another new implement he's bought: an industrial abrasive scrub brush. It's rubbed on my raw skin and my eyes begin to water... I moan into my gag and stretch against my binds...

The exquisite torture he is putting me through has come to a crescendo and I'm crying. The gag is new to me and the saliva pooling from my mouth, coupled with the ache in my jaw from the size of it, are adding to the intense sensations I'm experiencing throughout the rest of my body. Mascara is running down my face and I'm moaning for all that I'm worth when my lover stops and comes to my head to remove my gag. He's petting my tear stained cheeks and kissing my forehead and asking if I'm ok.

I'm confused and befuddled. I don't know why he stopped. He suddenly wipes a tear from my cheek and examines it shining on his finger. He looks past to me to say something I was definitely not expecting.

"I hate to see you cry, I can't stand it."

My heart melts just a little bit more as I point out I almost always cry when we play rough, it's honestly just one of the steps to subspace. He assures me he knows, but that this time of play was particularly intense and he never wants to hurt me beyond that which I enjoy.

I love this man and his care of me. We are far from perfect, but we are perfect for each other. As he soothes me and I sooth him of his worries, the heat of desire returns to our eyes. We use the smaller ball for the gag to ease my aching jaw and he kisses me and returns the blindfold to my eyes.

I know he has gotten over the heartbreak of my tears as he makes me pick a number between 1-40... I low ball it, instinctively knowing I won't like it and less is better. 4 is the number of thumb tacks I chose to sit on with my abused posterior. I've no idea of this prior to him assisting me down (of course, I am still tied and blindfolded) onto the sharp needle points. Those hateful tears sporting back up instantly and I'm furiously shaking my head no. No no no! I can't, I won't, it's too much.

He instantly picks me back up and soothes me again. I'm in for more intense treatment throughout the night, more tears, deep subspace, then finally that heightened crescendo of being filled with him, the thing I've been longing for all day.

Although my tears had moved him that night, despite being tears from the incredibly sweet pain I craved and which he gave me to heighten my pleasure, it is the true tears I must hide. For come morning we must part and my love will no longer be mine again for quite some time to come.

The tears from pain are how you know my body is ready, the tears from parting are how you know my heart is ready.
 

Review: PINK Luv Paddle

PINK Luv Paddle from the Fetish Fantasy Series.

A Pipedream Product

From Erotic Toy Town

Overall: I loved it. Although a great beginner's paddle, it can be used to tease or punish depending on the mood. It is incredibly flat and easily tucked away between small spaces. Reasonably priced, I was pleasantly surprised at the quality of the suede and stitching. And have I mentioned how adorable it is! For those people who love the vibrant pink and black look, they will not be disappointed.

 

Playing: While firm, it does have some flexibility and would be a great beginner's toy. It is a slapper style paddle. There is a sturdy center piece that goes the whole length of the paddle, but otherwise the impact area will curl in if you grip the sides. Use is very straight forward, it is short enough to give the user great control over aim and takes little power to use. Not to mention: it's cute as hell and not scary looking. When I saw my big burly lover holding a bright pink heart-shaped paddle, it certainly made me smile.

The area of impact is long and makes an amazingly sharp cracking sound on the skin that sounds far worse than it feels. While he has a larger ass, being a man, the long impact area wasn't a concern, but he also had no problem hitting my smaller butt correctly. Though it has some flexibility, it does create a sting when enough force is wanted. It turned my ass a beautiful shade of red with around ten spanks.

I was a bit concerned at how wide the handle is, but like the impact area, the sides of the handle will curl slightly if gripped tightly to accomodate a smaller hand like mine. My partner's bigger hand had no issue with this and didn't find it bothersome that it could be smaller.

First Impression: It was delivered very quickly, in a typical, discreet shipment box. My postman was given no indication of the content. There is no packaging other than the box and a plastic wrap around the paddle. The only information about the paddle is listed on the outside of the box. And it's adorable!

Specifics: It is promoted that: "all 'PINK' items are made from super-soft, high-quality suede." I couldn't agree more, this is beautifully vibrant in color, super soft suede in texture. I kept wanting to run my fingers (or other parts) over the suede. The handle and impact portion are all one piece. There is a black heart (suede) shaped piece at the top of the paddle. The paddle is slightly raised up in the upper part of this side where the extra black piece was inserted. It was well stitched together. There is a black wrist strap tied through the bottom of the handle to hang the paddle from or wrap around your wrist during use. My lover decided he would never use the strap and it annoyed him, so he easily tugged it apart, breaking the strap (though with some patience I'm sure that it could be untied).

When tied, the wrist strap hangs down 6.5 inches.

The handle length is 5 inches, width is 1.5 inches.

Impact area length is 8 inches, width 3 1/4 inches.

 

The PINK Luv Paddle is available to buy from: Erotic Toy Town: luv paddle pink

Or you can check out their full range of paddles. Erotic Toy Town: Whips and Paddles

Thanks to Erotic Toy Town for sending us this to review!

Knife Play

 Kink of the Week is on one of my favorites. To KISS (keep it stupidly simple), I am just going to answer the questions.

"Knives excite a lot of people. They scare a lot of people too."
Just yesterday a friend of mine told me that he's terrified of being stabbed. He has something against knives. He's in the military, and has no fear of being shot, but a serious fear of knives. I found this odd; knives have always excited me (and I think being shot is worse).

"Have you ever played with knives?"
Oh yes, I've played with knives. I have two scars in the learning to play with knives. I used to fight with them, and I was adept at throwing knives in my youth as well.

Sexually, I began playing with knives with a boyfriend that taught me sword fighting. This man was masterful with a blade in general and I wasn't afraid in the slightest when he suggested that we incorporate one in bed. The first time the smooth flat part came in contact with my hot flesh I was sold. The contrast in temperature was amazing. It moves smoothly, effortlessly across the skin. The tip of the knife scratches its way, leaving a tiny trail of such precision.

"Does the sight of a knife’s sharp edge excite you, make you afraid, do both? What about the feel of a knife?"
A knife does both for me. I have trusted two partners to bring a knife to me, though I have used a knife on more. With my current lover, we were talking in a parking lot in his car and I saw that he had a ka-bar. It was in a sheath wedged between the center and his seat, so I grabbed it. The weight was so heavy, so solid, the edge so sharp and smooth, the flat of the blade was thick and dark. I loved the feel of this in my hand. "What are you doing?" he asked, curious. Suddenly, impulsively, I straddled him and put the knife up to the side of his throat. There we were, in an abandoned parking lot, in a car, and I had a knife to his throat. He just calmly looked at me, a steady gaze, queried again, "whatcha doing, babe?" and I melted and fell in lust with him.

"Ever played with a knife?" I whispered in his ear, nibbling on it, on the other side of him gliding the flat of the blade across his neck, going slowly from behind the ear to below it, across the side of his neck, against the pulse, slowly down to the front dip between the collarbones. I breathed heated breaths against his neck, moved back a little, and swiveled so that the knife tip so very gently followed the collarbone towards me and arched up the side of his neck, softly moving up to behind the ear I had just recently nibbled.

"No," his voice had a deeper timbre to it, "but I think I've been missing out on it suddenly."

"Does a knife at your throat (or other body parts), or does holding a knife to someone’s throat (or other body parts) make you hot or turn you cold? Is it fear play for you or just sensation play?"
It is fear play, but mostly sensation play for me. I have a glass dildo that is cold like a knife, and thick and smooth, and runs across skin like butter in a pan. There is a picture of my glass toy and a knife resting in ice water that my lover thought to do to increase the cold factor when we play.

The same friend yesterday, when I described the cold sliding against fevered skin said, "then we could just use a spoon." I laughed, and argued that a spoon would work for one type of sensation that a knife can do, but it isn't small and precise like the tip of a blade, exactly what is wrong with my glass dildo; to which then he said, "a fork will do that." Yes, but a fork isn't thick and there's more than one small protusion.

And there needs to be more than sensation play, I need to excitement and fear of a knife. I love that absolute concentration required, that the person wielding the knife is skilled with their hands, that the person receiving the blade is still, focused on the sensation, and above all trusting of the other. A cold knife at my throat is exquisite, the tip of the blade scratching softly at my nipple or gliding flat blade across and making them pucker makes me breathless, and the any part of it moving up and down the inside of my thighs makes me tighten in desire.

TMI Travel

This week, TMI Tuesday is looking at sex on vacation.
I just got back from a lovely trip, and have quite a few more planned for the summer, so this is pretty perfect timing.

1. Do you have more sex or less when on vacation?
More, as long as the kids aren't there. Then less if they are. This last trip I pushed him for five sessions in the evening because, well, I could. We wouldn't do much sight seeing if I had it my way when we travel childless.

2. Do you plan a vacation so that you will have an opportunity to have
sex?
No, we have opportunity. I don't mind planning long car drives because of road head. I pleased him twice whenever the drive became a little boring this weekend. Sadly, he wouldn't agree to parking, but I did masturbate for him so he could watch for stolen seconds while driving.

3. Have you ever planned a vacation in order to meet someone for sex?
Yes, this used to be quite frequent.

4. Have you ever gone on a singles’ cruise or some other
hookup-facilitating vacation?
I actually was on a cruise ship with 90% of the people being swingers. Great people to party with, but I wasn't technically with them, so I've never planned a vacation with that intent.

5. Have you had sex on a means of transportation other than a car: bus, train,
airplane, cruise ship?
Cruise ship. I don't think I'd want to anywhere else, but who knows

6. Have you had outdoor sex on camping, hiking, skiing, boating
vacation?
Yes, camping. And he was so paranoid about me making any noise, or us being seen. Not hiking, but I hike all the time, so that's a shame - more his decision than mine.

Bonus: Do you pack sex toys, lubes (3.4 oz bottles or less), etc when you fly? Do you think about TSA finding them? Has TSA ever found them and questioned you about your sexual aids or displayed them? Tell us about it.
No, I am worried about this. When we moved across country recently, I shipped my favorite vibrating toy over before flying so that I would have it, but not worry about TSA finding it.

Room service

He opened the door and my heart was pounding like a mad thing. A million thoughts raced through my head becoming a jumbled blur. This was it then...

I'm a flirt. I love banter and I love the delicious interactions between men and women who aren't afraid of their sexuality. Since I had first entered the world of sex blogging he'd had my attention. Lighthearted, playful, and easy interactions flowed.

I was intrigued as well by this man for more than the delicious glimpses I'd gotten of his body and his intelligence, but also by his life. Beautiful family, open loving relationship with a gorgeous, supportive wife. I'd never been with someone in an open relationship. I'd never been a toy.

I'd never really thought, beyond the fantasy, to seek out such a person or interaction though. Until, amidst one of the flirtatious exchanges of words and images, he suddenly issued me an invitation to join him while he was nearby for work.

I knew it wasn't cocktails and a pleasant meeting he was proposing, although that was certainly part of the deal. Suddenly, this vague daydream was a real and actual possibility. I instantly got hot and wet at the thought and agreed. No hesitation, simply excitement.

We began making plans. Not only did his wife know, she bought the condoms for the trip, which just made me all the more in awe of her and excited. Being single, there wasn't really anyone to tell, except my sister, and that was something I was a bit hesitant to do. After all, how would that conversation go:

"Hi sissy! Just wanted to let you know that I am taking a couple days off of work to go have sex with this really pleasant married man I know from the Internet!"

Um, yeah. I avoided the scenario and imagined reaction throughout all of my planning. Instead I focused on the meeting and the items I wanted to pack for my little overnight adventure. He and I exchanged several emails about practical, logistical concerns  but there were quite a few more texts about what we wanted to do to the other when we were finally afforded the opportunity. Suddenly it became a question of "How many sex toys are too many?" and "Is lingerie overkill or killer?" One of the extremely exciting factors to this for me was the fact that I already knew about this man's sex life. I already knew he was just as open and adventurous as I was and that really, can you ever have too many sex toys?

Finally, the day came to make my trip. The only time I'd spent this much time in grooming prep was when I was doing photos (ok, you got me, I take photos constantly.... but there was extra attention given!). Well, and really, I WAS going to be doing photos. He not only liked photos as much as I do, he even had gorgeous equipment I lusted over almost as much as his beautiful dick.

I'd ran into a little problem earlier on in the week. This problem I refer to as "spray tan leprosy". I'd gotten a spray tan on my legs as usual for photos. The problem this time, was that it rained immediately after and my legs got wet. You aren't supposed to get wet for a few hours after application. So, thanks to in-climate weather, I now had light spots on my legs that needed to be filled in. A bottle of tan in a can and suddenly the holes were filled, even if my legs were now a bit too dark.

I dress immaculately normally. I am a woman who loves to ooze femininity and sensuality, so a lovely, form fitting dress to show of my curves and a pair of strappy heels completed my pinup hair and ruby red lipstick. I was packed, ready, and on the road.

The drive time between home and my destination was about 4 hours. I was overly excited and decided to make good use of the present my sister had purchased me for long car drives. So, thanks to that wonderful little bullet, my trip was made much more pleasant by the two orgasms I had while thinking about what was to come (no pun, okay, maybe a little, intended).

It was during the drive that I finally found my gumption. I'd always confided in my sister, and no matter what she said, I was already on my way, there was no turning back. I finally picked up the phone and told her. To my surprise, she not only said that was awesome (she knew the man too and had actually expressed an interest in meeting him and his lovely wife), she also said she envied my spontaneity. It was perfect, there was nothing left now to worry about...

Except actually BEING there. I pulled into the parking garage of his hotel already wound up. I was in a tightly populated business district with construction going on. I hadn't taken anything for my anxiety because I didn't want the dulled senses side effect. My anxiety was through the roof! I was here, he was so close and my heart began to flutter. I checked myself and decided I wasn't too rumpled from my car trip, it was time to go upstairs.

I knocked. Counted my irregular heartbeats, and suddenly, the door was opened. Bright eyes peeked out at me from behind the door where he had playfully hidden to perpetrate a joke we had previously discussed of him waiting naked for me. His tall frame moved from behind the door and I saw him, in front of me (dressed), for the very first time. The next couple of minutes are a bit hazy to me because my nervous system went into overdrive. Thankfully though, despite my pink stained cheeks and nervous glances away, he was able to make me feel comfortable with the lighthearted banter I'd enjoyed engaging in with him previously.

He cupped my cheeks and kissed me, taking the edge off while I got settled and we exchanged pleasantries. I can't describe the transition from friendly meeting to me yanking his shirt off. No more than a few minutes had passed since I had been in the room. He heeded to my earlier expressed desire of worrying about taking clothes off and foreplay AFTER I already had him inside of me. I am notoriously impatient. I wanted to taste him, I wanted to feel him, I wanted to fuck him.

See our next segment Special Delivery coming soon to hear what happens next.

Non Vanilla Flavors

When I saw the Wicked Wednesday post, I texted my sister and asked her if she had it (like the foot fetish one for Kink of the Week); she replied she was excited to write it. I felt like I had nothing to contribute. I (and she) would definitely identify my sister with these labels, but for myself? Not so much. If I had to choose a label for myself, it would be vanilla, especially in reading so many sex bloggers.

And then I read Molly's contribution this week. And my sister, as is her lovely wont, impulsive took off for a few days on Wednesday, without writing for Wicked Wednesday yet.

Now my brain is going, and I have an opening...

So here's my non-vanilla flavors:

Knives: I've always had a thing for knives. Since I was young, I used to practice throwing them at my sister (intentionally missing, but she served as a non-target practice, if you will). Okay, not responsible, but we're siblings. Sword fighting furthered my love of cold steel, and knives have been a part of my kink for seventeen years now. I love the danger aspect, I love the rough scratchy tip, the cold feel of the steel against fevered flesh.

Bondage: almost just as long as my blade fetish, I love the control of a blindfolded and tied lover, the mischievous little imp comes out and plays, and I love the watch their reactions when I unexpectedly tease and please them. I love to hear them beg me.
I love to surrender the control as well. Always in command in my life, it's nice to not be for once. I love not knowing what's going to happen, not being able to stop them teasing me relentlessly, or to take control of my pleasure. I love to see what inventive or creative things my lover will bring in while I am blindfolded. I love the anticipation. I love the denying some senses so that I am more aware of others; likewise, I love not being able to play with them so that for once I am solely focused on my own body and reactions and pleasure.
I can easily "switch" due to the above. However, I am certainly leaning more towards submissive.

Rough sex: I have always preferred a faster pace. I love the rougher sex when I may be sore afterwards, hell I may even bleed, but it was worth it. It's more exciting to me - it shows passion (in the lack of control) in my opinion, and I'm big on that component.

Rough nipple play: just a few years into this one, I love the sensitivity of my nipples after being used roughly. The hard, sensitive buds keep me so turned-on, and serve as a constant reminder of what transpired - a secret only my body is aware of (and of course, the lover). I like my vibrating nipple clamps, but they don't always stay as well as I'd like.

Spankings: Ah, a fairly new love of mine. I've now been bruised from it, and it was awesome. Certainly, I think I am in love with a spank, or two, during the height or after-glow of orgasm, but the bruising wasn't bad either.

Wax: The newest in my repertoire, something that will be a special occasion kink, I think. I really like it, but it is certainly one of those "in the mood for" things. It's shocking and surprising, without being able to anticipate. Who knows, maybe after more uses, it may be a common occurrence.

As for roles: always being in control - from work with over a hundred people that I am in charge of, to family (not just immediate), to domestically, truly I am person who is always responsible for decisions. I want to relinquish that in my sex life - not personal life - but the partner I need in the bedroom is different from the partner I need in the living room. This has been an awareness of mine for a little over a year, and I am slowly trying to move towards that direction in my wants, and requests. It is now what I desire utmost in a lover - to not be in charge of our sex life.

So what do you know? This vanilla person can discuss BDSM.

Tied and blindfolded

"Tie me." Okay, so I'm not for subtle, or pretty words.

He smiled, indulgently. "Okay."

"And we're bringing the knife, and the candles."

"Okay."

I bounced on the bed as I waited for him to get the ties out of our ammo can (must be a military things). He fastened them to the four bedposts, already knowing that they need to be as loose as possible to compensate for a small female stretched out on a Cal King bed. He lit the candles, grabbed a large towel and draped it in the middle of the bed. I proceeded to flip myself onto the center of it, crinkling the towel so he grabbed the corners and smoothed it out again.

He reached over my to strap a wrist in, and his penis hovered above my face. So tempting, so delicious, and I wasn't tied up yet, so I lifted my head and wrapped my mouth around the shaft, probing the head with my tongue as my lips pushed further up onto his shaft. I started sucking gently, but he moved up further; I increased the suction, but he pulled out of my mouth, smiled and shook his head, then proceeded to tie my other wrist.

He brushed the hair back from my face, gently stroked the side of my head, and then reached back and grabbed my hair at the base of the neck. He forced my head up slightly and pushed his still damp member into my mouth, allowing me to suck a few times, then pulled me back, then pressed me back to suck. He had never controlled this element before, and being denied something I wanted made me want it even more. I would let out a sound of disappointment every time he forced me away. After five or six times, he completely moved away and down to my ankles, tightly binding them, forcing my legs apart.

He grabbed the blindfold and tenderly adjusted it to my face. When we take out ties, we always use a blindfold; I don't recall us ever using one without the other. I love not knowing where he is going next, trying to anticipate, relying on the sounds, smells, subtle movement from the bed. He has more of an advantage than I do - he can reach me without touching the bed, I am too short and he can almost always feel where I am on the bed when he is blinded.

He was still near my face when he proceeded to torment me again with sucking him, his hand back firmly in my hair, guiding my mouth and his cock where he needed, withdrawing and then allowing my mouth back around him. Just ever so briefly, then I felt him remove himself completely off the bed.

"Oh, we have all the temperatures tonight," he stated matter of factly and I felt something very cold and smooth rubbing against the side of my rib. I drew in a breath at the touch of chill, exhaling the breath gradually. Chilliness brushed lower, down the side of the hip and around above the knee, before unhurriedly making its way up to my inner thigh. I recognized it now as our glass dildo. The glass seems to stay arctic for so long. It nudged itself delicately between my lips, rubbed its way up my clit, and then grazed a trail around a breast, rubbing the nipple and making it pucker from the cold. His mouth warmed the cold flesh, a pleasant contrast, soft but wide open kisses to fully cover as much as possible, the tongue flicking the nipple a few times, before pulling up, grasping with suction and tightening on just the nipple, applying a bit of tugging with his mouth. I moaned and attempted to arch up, my pussy clenching.

He inched away just briefly, and there was a small buzzing noise. My other nipple was pinched and forced up, stretched for a nipple clamp to come down on it, the vibrating strong in such a small sensitive zone. He kissed the other nipple again, his hand slowly going down to gently stroke my clit, and I thought he was going to apply the other clamp, when I heard him whisper, "I wonder if you'll like this".

I felt him sit up, and another small buzzing sound, before his fingers played with my clit, rubbing back and forth until it swelled and became more prominent. Suddenly a vibrating sensation was there, and I protested (was it a protest?), "Oh fuck." He inquired if I was okay with that, but before I could offer any other opinions, cold steel touched the side of my breast that did not have the clamp. The tip of the knife point gently scratched its way around the soft globe, the flat of the blade massaged its way across my nipple, and I was breathless.

While I was aware of the shaking clamps on my nipple, and my clit, it became almost background sensation to the cold knife making its way across my body, browsing my stomach, scratching delicately on the inside of my thigh, flat blade almost pressing against my lips. It moved in a slow, icy, deliberate manner. He alternated between the cold smoothness of the blade, pressing it more firmly, chilling my hot skin; and the tip, softer, almost gossamer at points, daintily skimming and scratching the surface.

He set the knife aside, and his tongue flicked the tip of the nipple trapped in the clamp. The tiny little top became so central to every nerve ending, every thought. It felt ridiculously hypersensitive, and amazingly good. He gradually slid the clamp off, kissed the nipple more firmly, softly blew on it, cooling it with his breath. He reached down and carefully took off the clamp on my clit. "Did you like that?" he asked, his fingers massaging the incredibly receptive pearl, before dipping between my lips and discovering how wet I was. "Oh yes, you liked that," he confirmed, and I could hear the smile of satisfaction in his voice. He moved his finger slowly in and out a few times, not to please or press any buttons, but to tease, before he withdrew and I felt the side of the bed give slightly as he shifted away from me.

Suddenly a hot splatter stunned me, and my indrawn breath gave voice to my surprise. It wasn't pleasurable - it was fiery and shocking. Another scalding drop kissed my chest, but being more prepared, it didn't bring me out of any reverie - but it still required my upmost attention. Trickles bit by bit fell, first falling in the center of my chest, then my soft breasts, a few scattered splatters touched very sensitive rosy nipples. My body, already aching, adapted quickly to random drips; the hot drops brought the skin to a heightened sensation, quickly cooled, hardened and left traces with the weight and texture against my skin. I began moaning into it, unable to prevent a twitching every so often at the heat, but always an awareness of my own self and my increasing desire.

He brought the glass dildo up against my skin, skimming the surface where the wax was so swiftly I had no idea what he did with the candle. It was excruciating winter, such a stark dissimilarity, and I writhed as much as the bindings allowed me to, trying to escape the icy glass against some sensitive places and endeavoring to welcome the touch in other places. Slowly, the glass skated across bare skin or raised slightly over the wax, the wax a buffer against the chill in small places. Both nipples were massaged until they were hardened points, then the glass was rubbing against my clit, just briefly. I cried out, wanting...I had no idea what anymore, but just yearning.

The glass parted my lips, and dipped agonizingly slow into my folds, my heated wet passion seemingly an unbearable furnace that felt the onslaught of frosty glass, slithered slowly, sinking, still so cold, my entrance cooling with every new movement inside, my depths aware of the temperature difference but adjusting, warming. Once he moved the dildo fully inside me, he pulled out just as slowly, my folds cocooning, my excitement allowing easy movement. Then down, fast, quickly, and back up to almost the round tip fully out, and suddenly he was fucking me hard with the toy, and my body was so ready for the release, my hips moving as much as the ties would allow, my thighs taunt and resentful of the stinted freedom, and I was screaming into the orgasm.

When I was done, he wrenched the toy suddenly out of my spent body and positioned the head of his penis against my aroused entrance, pausing with just the tip. I let out a moan of frustration, my body greedy already, longing again so quickly for him. Effortlessly slipping inside, but just as slowly as first with the toy, he was so hard, I held my breath and focused on feeling his length slide down further and further into me. He rotated up, patiently measured, and back down, letting out a sigh of pleasure. After a few more times, in his attempt of fully tease me by almost completely retreating before gliding fully in, he shifted too far out. (The ankle ties make sex challenging, as my legs are not a fully spread as he needed for his broad body.)

"I have an idea," he said, and I questioned what. He didn't respond as he released my ankles. I felt movement around my wrists, but I was busy attempting to move my legs around his body to pull him into me. He seemed impervious to my endeavor, and grabbed a hold of one ankle and raised it up to my hand. I believed he was going to hold one leg up and enter me, but felt a fasten around my ankle, attached to the wrist binding. He had used extra ties that were otherwise too short, and I had forgotten even the existence. My other ankle joined up to my other wrist, and suddenly I was spread as open as I've ever been tied up. "Are you comfortable?" he questioned, the concern in his voice.

"Yes, but I feel very open, and vulnerable," and swiftly as I was speaking his mouth was upon my pussy, a gentle suction on the lips and his tongue thrusted inside me. His mouth was unbelievably hot, the suction was amazing, and I tried to squirm against the feelings - a motion that had always been available to me, but suddenly was not. I was splayed, full access to him. And oh my goodness, his mouth was doing the most incredible things with that advantage. He seemed to lick and suck for so unbelievably long, and I felt spent and ravaged. He hoisted up and then entered me, absolutely no gentleness - but my body offered no resistance. I clenched around him, I shouted so loudly that my throat immediately felt raw, but he now fucked me roughly. In the position I was in, he could thrust against me with no boundaries, he went so deeply into me at moments that I felt him hitting a wall, but beyond any sensation beyond orgasm, I continued to scream as he continued to pound into me.

A slight lull, a shifting of his body, after that extreme pleasure that took me to heights and would have kept me until he decided otherwise, and he alternated at a slower pace. It was more controlled, and I could feel the ridge of his head rubbing the inside of my quivering body.

Oh my...and unexpectedly sweltering tormenting rain on my breasts, on my stomach. The wax was commanding my attention, sizzling, startling, focused skin. He persisted to move slowly in and out of me, my body started to grip him tighter, preparing for another orgasm. Suddenly wax poured down the interior of one thigh, still wholly exposed because of the ties, and it burned a fierce path down, cooling and resting about halfway. It took me out the feeling of orgasm with its intensity, but his continual plunging pushed me right back towards that mood to focus on my muscles beginning to tense and shudder, and wax splashed downward again, bringing my concentration back, but my body wasn't to be diverted for long by a lowly thigh, not when the entire core of me was taut, tight, clenching, spasms rippling through that the third time wax was splayed the thigh was rigid and barely registered, consumed by a violent orgasm. I screamed again, forgot to breathe, floated and became dizzy, became aware of his decelerated movements, of his calm withdraw, almost a mockery of the ferocious orgasm just felt.

His mouth was back between my legs, and his fingers and tongue took turns pillaging my already spent but oh so sensitive sex. I sensed a vibrator, and he used my own juices to stroke up against my clit, amid my folds but not quite entering, and then transitioned down to my asshole. "Can I?" he asked.

He could have asked to bring in twenty people just to gawk at me, for all I cared at the moment. I was blissfully happy, exhaustively spent, easily amenable. I gave a shaky agreement - the few times we've tried anal anything with me I didn't like it, and we had only tried a finger, or a small anal toy, nothing that vibrated, and nothing as large as that.

With the same infinite patience that he used throughout this session, he carefully inserted the vibrator into my small hole after using a lot of lube. I tried to relax into it, for once a little easier just because my body was so complaisant after such pleasure. Before I could feel and fixate on any sort of uncomfortableness, he entered me again, not removing the vibrator.

I felt so full, like there was not enough room for me. My muscles immediately reawakened and began a squeezing pattern that was fast leading to another orgasm, but he kept ruining the pace. "It keeps slipping out," he vented, and slid out of me. "Do you mind if we do it doggy-style?"

I didn't mind if he did me on the moon, I just wanted him deep inside of me again. He reached up and pushed the blindfold up, and even the low lighting hurt my eyes, so I shut them. He freed my ankles, and I felt stiff, it hurt my hips to move my legs down and together. Next, my wrists, and then I rolled over, mostly so I didn't lose my nerve again with the vibrator. I pressed my chest flush to the bed, and raised my ass up. He cautiously slid the vibrator in again, and then sank his length into me. A repeat, that feeling of fullness that I was unused to. He increased the pace of his thrusting, the vibrator easier for him to keep in place, and it wasn't long before we reached a peak of pleasure together from this position. Once more, the release was so quick, and made my entire body respond with such force. He withdrew the vibrator first, and then himself. I managed to do nothing more than collapse on the bed, just laying there.

He laughed at my limp form, laid down next to me, and kissed me on the forehead. "You're a mess," he said. I could do nothing other than smile, (and tweet about it the next day).

Three Word Meme

I found this three word meme from Sir Q and Me
The idea is to use exactly three words to answer each of the questions, so here goes.

1. Where is your cell phone?  Usually near me.
2. Boyfriend/girlfriend?  I wish girlfriend
3. Hair?  Always pulled back
4. Your mother?  Disney, PTSD, Christmas
5. Your father?  30 second call
6. Your favorite item(s)?  Ring, lelo, car
7. Your dream last night?  Twitter, orgasms, hashtag
8. Your favorite drink? Water or tea
9. Your dream guy/girl? Already found him
10. The room you are in? Main middle floor
11. Your fear?  Unhappy lonely family-less
12. What do you want to be in 10 years?  Happy, whole, strong
13. Who did you hang out with last night?  S, C, Me
14. What are you not?  Patient, unmotivated, frigid
15. What's outside your window?  so many trees
16. One of your wish list items?  to be dominated
17. What time is it?  dinner time, yum
18. The last thing you did?  erase person's answers
19. What are you wearing? bra, pants, shirt
20. Your favorite book? Clan Cave Bear
21. The last thing you ate? Yogurt, banana, grapes
22. Your life?  Interesting, moving, blessed
23. Your mood? Consistently all over
24. Your car?  Amazingly trustworthy awesomeness
25. What are you doing at this moment? Typing these words
26. Your summer? Hot, relaxed, traveling
27. Travel plans? Always, impulsive, needed
28. What is on your TV screen?  forever video games
29. Last time you cried?  I can't remember
30. School?  apparently like it

Inciting Outside

“I don’t feel good.” I look at you as if you said a vile thing, as if you were crazy. You said it for a purpose; it was too random to just bring up.

“Is that code for you having a headache?” I question, referencing the olden but golden reason why wives wouldn’t sleep with their husbands.  

You pause and smile. “Yes, yes, I believe that is.”

Again, my eyes pierce you with that preposterous statement. But I say nothing and wait. By the time we are ready for bed, I state casually, “you know you want to have sex with me. I’m awfully pretty and downright adorable.” I get undressed, not meeting eyes for fear of making it easier to reject me with a shake of the head.

You laugh. You knew this was coming. I don’t accept the “headache/not feeling good”. “Oh I suppose I can sex with you. You are very pretty.” Well, at least you aren’t blind. We slide under the covers, and meet in the middle of our enormous bed. We face each other, and just hold each other for a moment, enjoy the quiet stillness of the night. I scratch your back, knowing you like it, not wanting to just immediately jump you. I know I need to show you affection first; we’ve had this talk.

I smile, because I’m done and planning my attack. You’ve obviously seen this smile before, because before my hand can dip lower, your hand is wrapped around my wrist. You move my immobile hand to the arm beneath me, and press heavily into the bed where my other arm was under you, effectively trapping both.

“But babe,” I whine. “I haven’t touched you in days.”

“It’s been three, and you aren’t winning this one. We’ll see how long it is until I allow you to touch me.” You tug on my wrist and your foot pushes on my leg, rotating me to on my back. The same foot stays on my leg, nudging apart and securing it in place. Your free hand moves lower. Fingers freely penetrate or caress at your whim. I try to distract you with kisses, and move my arm and hand trying to work free. You are having none of it. When you rubbed against my clit, my intake of breath must’ve clued you. You look at me, “you must be sensitive,” and search my eyes as again you massaged my bud. I make a noise, half groan and half moan. “You aren’t often sensitive there,” your voice tells of delight, like a child receiving a new toy.

It’s true I am not often sensitive there. I’d much rather penetration than clitoral stimulation, but tonight it feels so good, and your fingers brush and knead and torture and delight before you let go of my wrist and move so quickly I’ve no time to think, and now your mouth is there. “Oh, no,” I breathe, unsure I am able to handle this much stimulation so early on. But you have a purpose and skill that I rarely call upon. I whimper, plead, buck, press. I have no idea what to do besides beg for you to be inside of me.

“You want this?” you question, moving up and between my legs as suddenly as you went down.

“Yes,” my legs wrap around your hips.

You lean forward and rub against me. “I don’t think I’m hard enough.”

I smile, “you need me to touch you is all.” I go to move my hands, but you’ve claimed them again, pinning them the bed at the wrists with your strong hands.

Again, that smile. “No,” you kiss my forehead, and I feel you at my entrance, “we’ll make do”. A tease then, because you thrust inside of me while maintaining eye contact and there is no doubt that you are hard, throbbing and stretching me. You don’t release my wrist, but still manage to rotate up to a higher position, where the tip of you slides up precariously to my entrance; the shaft pressed against my clit, and then thrusts straight down. A slight ache from the pressure and force, but I am flooded with so many sensations. And you know it, as the calculated move is repeated until I tighten and squeeze around you in my orgasm. Immediately you release my wrists and lower yourself, still resting inside of me, lovingly embracing me and giving me gentle kisses. You rub your body along my clit and murmur, “still sensitive?” I can only nod. “Good.” You pull out of me and reach to your nightstand, pulling out a black case.

“Oh hell no, I can’t,” I voice. I watch you stretch the cock ring around you. You turn on just the vibrating part and put it against my already oversensitive bud, holding it there and watching my reaction. I writhe and moan and impel. You pull back and begin to put it in the ring. I take this opportunity to reach down and stroke your straining and eager cock. It’s a small victory, but it’s mine.

And its short lived, as my hands are pulled off of you, again pinned to the bed, and you are driving yourself deeply into me. The vibrator is prominently inciting outside, and you are filling and devastating inside, and I cannot breathe or see or think. I just feel. And clench so tightly around you that you’ve no choice but to join me on this journey, your groans mixing with my screams.

Read Something for the Weekend

The surf

I go in waves with my sexual desire.

Now, keep in mind I want it at least once a day every day, but sometimes I want it NOW NOW NOW, all day long. I've been the girl that sent the text saying: "I've been up for 3 hours and I've already gotten off 5 times... I love my new vibrator!"

I've also had days where I just don't really feel like anything. It always seems to be a block of days for each though.

I'm curious if everyone is like this?

I do know I binge on sex when I get a new partner. It's like, "you mean I can finally have sex!" I've constantly had to warn partners that they will not be able to keep up with me and that's ok. I'll be disappointed and pout, but just as long as they're willing to at least try, we'll be ok.

For some reason every man sees this as a challenge. Then after a day, maybe two, they admit defeat. Truly, no one CAN keep up. I understand the cause of this wave: it's a new toy, all pretty and shiny, of course I want to play with him. And I do settle down, as long as I get to see him regularly, and have sex on those occasions, I'll settle into 3 times a day instead of three times an hour. However, outside of this cause, there are many other times I go through these waves with no discernable pattern.

Perhaps something I'll have to start taking notice of more closely. I'd definitely like to hear other's opinions...

Wicked Wednesday

Until Thursday

"I wish you could call me so you can hear me find my pleasure."

My phone rings almost instantly. He's at work, on base, in his office. My panties are tucked in his pocket and I've sent him a picture of pert nipples, creamy skin, silk panties. I'm being a bit of the devil. I've instructed him not to find release until he sees me later this week.

He likes to please me. Against his better judgment he's agreed to my request. Now I'm just teasing, taunting, making him feel every moment of that wait. To twist the screw a bit more I not only inform him that I'm masturbating at that very moment, but now I'm making him listen to my ragged breath.
The torture continues as I make him tell me what he wants to do to me, and I to him. I find my release but am still enjoying the sensations so I leave my vibrator down there as we talk of other things. I continue to throw sexual innuendo into our conversation; I like this game I'm playing. He asks what I would do if he just showed up at my house. The vixen in me tells him I'd let him watch me masturbate, then send him on his way to continue the vigil until Thursday.

I think he's had enough because suddenly the tables are turned. His voice deepens, evens out. He's speaking in an authoritative tone telling me that no, what I really want is his mouth between my thighs and to feel his tongue flick the sensitive skin of my bud. He asks if I want to be a good girl and of course I do. "Then cum. Cum to the sound of my voice and the thoughts of me tasting you."

I'm undone. My breath catches and my legs shake as I reach that crescendo. He did it. Let me know who was in control even while playing my game. He taunts back one last time about showing up and I tell him I don't believe him. He's at work and devoted, I knew better. He wishes me a pleasant afternoon and I reiterate about being impatient for Thursday.

I am languorous and stay half naked as I continue my afternoon, quivering with excitement over what is happening in just two more days. I'm talking to a friend on the phone when there's a knock at my door. I grab a towel (still naked) and peak out of the window.

It's him. My jaw drops along with my phone and I'm flustered. Oh my God he has work, how is this possible!? It's the middle of the afternoon! My house is a mess and so am I but all I can think is, "he's here! HE'S HERE!"

I open the door and he holds me firmly and ravishes my mouth. He holds my face and says "Never issue a challenge like you did earlier, I'll rise to it. You've no idea what I'm capable of doing." I'm bewildered at how he accomplished it, but rank has it's privilege I'm to find out.

His mouth, his words, his gaze... His every touch and everything get me soaked with excitement. I don't know how he is able to do this to me. I'm still amazed every time, I'm usually dry but apparently this man, out of all of the others, was made to push my buttons. The man could send me a text and I'm damp with desire.

I decide since I need a shower, he does too; two birds and all that. I make him join me and I revel in the feel of his skin, the water caressing us both. I want him so badly and to see him kneel in front of me, to bring me pleasure with his hands, his mouth at my breast, I buck and shiver and dissolve into a pool of taunt nerve endings and arousal.

I maneuver us into the bedroom. I know I'm supposed to wait until Thursday but I no longer want him; I NEED him. He's teasing at the entrance to my very core and I'm going quietly insane. Suddenly he drives into me with a fierceness that draws a scream from my throat. It's mine, fulfillment, the fullness inside and the greatest sense of release. He suddenly withdraws and I've the strongest urge to hit him, curse him, kiss him and beg. He teasingly thrusts into me again and just as quickly out. There are tremors rocking my body and I'm fighting for control.

"What is that look for, hmmm? Why are you shaking your head?" He knows full well I'm hanging by a thread and I think he delights in it. I've been cruel, teasing him, making him ache. I haven't thought of his reasons today, just my overwhelming desire.

"Why?" I ask, I beg, I plead. Why is he denying us? His penetrating blue eyes stare deep into mine and he says, "I am honoring you. I'm saving my orgasms for Thursday with you just as you requested. I gave you my word. I will honor you, you are worth it."

Oh God, I'm done. I'm in so much trouble now as his words move me. I roll him over and climb on top. I ride him. I reason he can't stop me. I need it I need it I NEED IT. Suddenly he says, "No!" and pushes me off but it's too late. As much as he pushes me over the edge I take him with me. I'm a bad girl and I've broken my own rules.

Then he chuckles. Somehow we were playing my game, but I'm the one shaking with need right now and he's the one who got off. He makes sure to point this all out to me, including the fact that now I'm the one who won't be finding their end until Thursday. He tried so hard to hold to our bargain and in the end it was me with no self control.

It's hard to say goodbye, we keep kissing and touching and I wish I could keep him forever today, but I know that I can't. We both have commitments. I am full of longing for him already and he hasn't left the door. He chides me again for issuing challenges like that. I pout like a petulant child but am already plotting my next challenge. I'm determined to out fox him.

I kiss my lover goodbye for the millionth time, trying to ignore the fact that I'm bereft at his absence even before the fact. My desire, my longing for him are so strong. He returns my kiss, and with a gentle caress whispers against my lips, "until Thursday".

Anal: the final frontier

"Are you sure you're ready?"

No I wasn't sure! The last time Michael and I had attempted anal sex with me on the receiving end met with disaster. (See the story here).  I didn't want to fail or disappoint, and I was so nervous.

I wanted it. I wanted him. I wanted to feel him slide smoothly inside of me. I wanted to be lost in the pleasure of his arms. I wanted to be consumed wholly, and I wanted to have anal sex.

I just wasn't sure I was ready. Sometimes, athletes and actors talk about being nervous. Those jitters that seem to take over the entirety of their being to the lose of anything else. In the midst of these jitters, just when the curtain is about to raise or they take their first step onto the field, the sudden blazing moment of clarity comes and nothing is left to be worried about, no fear or anxiety. This is it, it's time to perform.

That in no way happened to me. Not even a little. I was just a ball of anxiety to the point where (and I had to be told later because I didn't realize it was out loud) I was MUTTERING for Christ's sake; "ok, ok, just relax, relax, relax. Ok, you can do this! Relax!" I'm sure this did nothing but convince Michael of my readiness.

Then, a soft sigh on my neck as he gently kissed the spot behind my ear that instantly sends pleasure through me. A whispered compliment of how beautiful my ass was and how very much he wanted me. I was ready. Still nervous- but ready.

Michael, ever the in-tune lover, slid in like a pro. Smoothing skin here, a moan of pleasure/encouragement, a vibrator to keep my body humming and ready to find release. This was the point we had gotten to last time, I decided, why raise the bar too high? If he got in anything over one stroke I was ahead of the game, I'd take it!

Michael ever so slowly pulled out a couple inches. I didn't move. Steady like a rock I was! I was the champ, I had done it, we could call it a game! With my flagging confidence bolstered, I thought, "well...we've made it this far. Let's see how far we can take this..." Within the first few tentative strokes I decided that I could handle it. Still weird, still a bit uncomfortable, but I could handle this. Kind of.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I can do it, I can do it... But Michael? You're gonna have to hurry up ok? I don't know how long I can do this"

"Ok." Half stroke. "Oh God, you have no idea how easy that's going to be." Michael was true to his word. Hot, passionate, extremely brief, then suddenly, a shudder. A tightening of the grasping of my hips, my name escaping his lips in a part groan part sigh. I instantly perked up.

"Wait... Did you cum? DID YOU DO IT!?!"

"Yes, I came" was the chuckling reply.

Then as quickly as I had maneuvered away the first time we had anal penetration, I flipped around in a flash and did the only thing anyone who has just successfully had anal sex from beginning to end would do...

I high five'd him. That's right. I threw my splayed hand in the air and gave him the heartiest high five I believe I have ever given in my life. The words that accompanied this were a bit jumbled, but they went something along the lines of.

"Oh-my-God-yay! I-knew-we-could-do-it. I AM FUCKING AWESOME!"

I've found at times like these, it's best to maintain an air of worldliness and refinement. The look on Michael's face was priceless. He looked at me, looked at his hand that he's put up immediately in reflex to receive my proffered digits, looked at me again, and in the most deadpan voice inquired, "did you really just high five me?"

I paused for a moment in my victory dance/butt wiggle to assure him that yes, yes I had just high five'd him and he had better prepare himself for more if I so chose to share in the delight of accomplishment with him.

Any other man would've thought I was crazy. Any other man wouldn't have cared enough about me to take his time and do it properly, and he wouldn't have even have gotten that far. This was Michael however and he was all the things I could ask for in a lover. So he chuckled, shook his head again while looking at his hand, then cuddled and kissed me.

It was a great experience and incredibly pleasurable. We have since gone on to continue our anal explorations and it keeps getting better. We don't do it all the time, but neither of us certainly have any objections to it anymore.

I am also happy to report, like the conquering heroine that I am, no air was passed that day. So while Michael got the prize for taking it first, I got the one for controlling it after.

(Interested in what I did to him previously? check out stick-it-in-his-ass

No lubrication required

Unlike my sister and her amazing ability to be wet with a look, I have the tendency to be dry. This is embarrassing for me many times as I try to explain to the man that OF COURSE he turns me on, my body chemistry plus allergy medication just prevent me from producing all that much moisture.
Because of this minor flaw in my body makeup I have a large enough selection of lube that it has raised some eyebrows. Apparently 8 different choices at a time are far too many for some strapping young infantrymen. What can I say, variety is the spice of life and I'm a damn good cook.

There have been two notable exceptions to my lubrication situation in my lifetime: Michael, who got me went once just by sending a picture of him in his dress uniform, and my new favorite object: baby's first Lelo.

I have wanted a Lelo for ages... Especially after my sister gave me reports on hers. I was looking for a good g spot vibe and decided it was time to break into the big leagues. I went to my local adult store and bought the Gigi.

I was so excited I practically pranced my way home. Just opening the box got me wet. I even took pictures of the thing. Splayed everything out for a sexy showoff photo shoot. My messages to my sister and friends read something like: "it even has it's own special bag, and you should see the BOX it comes in!"

It was a sex toy Christmas and I had been a VERY good girl.

As I impatiently waited for it to charge I could hardly sit still. I was curious if it would actually work. G spot searches haven't always gone the best for me, but with my Lelo, I was confident it would be a snap.

Once my Gigi was charged up I took a few minutes just to play with it in my hands. The motor is powerful, silent, and placed such a way that you get the strong vibrations throughout the entire shaft of the toy, without feeling like you're going to vibrate your hand into numbness while controlling it.
The user controls are well placed and easy to manage with one hand. The top of the toy is flared and flat and angled perfectly. All in all, my Gigi delivered on it's promises and then some. This vibrator is perfect for clitoral stimulation as well due to those design features. In fact, I would've bought it just for that because oh my word, I orgasmed so hard the aftershocks lasted for ages.

Much like Michael, the Gigi has enabled me to be lube free more than once and that is possibly the best review I could give a product.

...Now I just have to save up to get one of every toy Lelo makes and the next item on my hit list: the we-vibe 3 .

Stick it in HIS ass

When Michael and I first entered into negotiations for anal, I resolutely determined that what goes around comes around. In fact, it was this very instance about turn about being fair play, that saved me many a drawn out begging sessions for anal from other partners.

The second the words were out of my mouth, Michael instantly said "yes"...

Dammit. Now what!? While the merest of seconds ticked by, while I tried to process a rejoineder, it felt like the world paused for eternity. Did I just somehow talk myself into a corner? Yes, yes I had. And that corner had no way out except the path straight to anal.

I had misgivings about anal for me, but I had never even thought about wanting to stick a vibrator in a man's ass. I was scared it would emasculated him in my eyes. The thing I like about men is being a MAN. How could I still view him in the same light if we did this? This perfect match, this incredible lover. This would RUIN it.

Somewhere, under my initial misgivings, laid a naughty, curious little sexual minx who thought "try anything once!" and I knew, Michael was nothing but a virile masculine man. He carried me around like I was a feather and made me beg for release sometimes. Nothing could change that.

While we were still warming me up for the big show, Michael immediately agreed to start our experimenting with his own anal experience. Much like mine, it was a bit awkward and uncomfortable at first. Uncomfortable for Michael (duh, first time taking something in the ass), and uncomfortable/awkward for me because I didn't know what I was doing. I DON'T HAVE A PENIS.

However, I'm a woman, and I do own more than a couple of vibrators. Once we got started it got easier. The best part about Michael and I is that we can communicate during sex. We would rock at team building exercises, that's how good our communication and understanding is in bed. He was able to tell me when to slow down, adjust angle, pressure, intensity so I didn't feel like a fumbling idiot and he didn't feel like a baby-faced new inmate at the county lockup.

After my not-quite-successful first anal attempt, and the subsequent hilarity, we decided it was Michael's turn to attempt a realistic sized vibrator. This was it, the big moment. Michael had assured me he could take it like a champ (read: much better than I did), and much to my shame, he did.
We decided the vibrator would be controlled by him because he would handle it better. While he was reaching behind himself, I was in front in my oh so favorite position, doggy style. I was a bit bummed there would be no hair pulling with his hands occupied, but I knew I'd still get an incredible fuck. Michael never failed to deliver. So while I was in charge and occupied with keeping his rock hard dick sliding in and out of me and bringing me to a heart racing orgasm, Michael was experiencing anal for the first time simultaneously. We both achieved one of the hardest, most consuming orgasms that day. Something about the situation and how much pleasure he got gave me that much more, and according to him: he now loves his prostate.

As we lay there beside each other, panting and glistening with sweat and shivering with the aftershocks of our pleasure, Michal turned to me to say something... it was then that the air escaped... from him. My eyes grew wide and we both started laughing. Cue more air. I was doubled over laughing so hard I could barely hear it when he said, "well dammit, now I know what you're talking about, you really can't control it," as he sat there passing air two or three more times.

It was at that moment that I realized one other side effect of having participated in anal with Michael. He got it. He really did. He knew what I was talking about with the initial muscle threshold you had to get past and the ridiculous sensation of needing to go to the bathroom that is so weird. He understood everything, and although he got more pleasure from it, he still had to overcome those initial awkward, uncomfortable moments too. This understanding, plus the need to show him up, made me redouble my own curiosity and readiness to keep pushing those anal boundaries myself.

Stay tuned to see if I just talk a big game or if I ever actually successfully completed anal in the last part of the trilogy!