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

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.

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).

TMI Blogging

1. Do you write/manage another blog?
No, this one and reading so many others, takes up enough time and creativity.

2. Pick 3 random blogs from your blogroll and tell us why they are on your blog roll.
TMI Tuesday normally because I read these and think of my own answers, and if I'm already thinking it, why not answer and participate?
Wicked Wednesday A great resource for inspiration, and to discover how other people used the prompt.
Sinful Sunday Just a fun contribution, and visually creative to explore.

3. Look around your blog, tell us about two pages or links you want us to visit, be sure to provide a link to them in your answer to this question.
Postponing the Inevitable Because the writing was incredibly challenging. Not just because the memory was from years ago, but also because the reactions and actions of that night are still misunderstood and confusing - still to both of us.
Anal: The Final Frontier How do you take an awkward and nerve-wracking moment and change it to a positive spin? A high-five certainly helps, and so does humor and a "can-do" attitude.

4. Do you have any unique interests that you have never shared before? What are they?
Hmm, I like throwing knives...normally at my sister. Just kidding, I haven't done that to her since she was little. Thank goodness we outgrow adolescent angst, eh?
We're both avid readers, and we both suck at golf.

5. What’s your current obsession?
Completing my sex list. My partner and I came up with a hard/soft/curious/love list and and our working our way through (or will once we see each other, and he's out of a cast).

Bonus: Has blogging helped or hurt your sex life?
I don't think it's changed much. Only noticeable thing is that after great sex, I immediately feel the need to get up and write about it.
————-
How to play TMI Tuesday: Copy the above TMI Tuesday questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there, then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link to tmituesdayblog from your website!

Happy TMI Tuesday!

2012 recap

alwayseachother and girlonthenet have both written blogs about this past year's top sexual moments, as rated by their partners. With that inspiration, here are the two my husband will commit to telling me when I demanded answers on the spot, without giving him time to think (I'm impatient by nature):

Filming Ourselves:

My husband suggested us taping our sex. After a couple of years, we started sending naked pictures of each other during our separations. Just recently, with a recent separation (gotta love the military), we had shared videos of each other masturbating. I have to admit, he was sharing these things with me far before I was generous enough to share with him. I was anxious, fearful, nervous about sharing photos. I certainly didn't want them to be viewed by anyone other than him. But I absolutely loved looking at the pictures, and later videos.

He knew that I loved watching him, and so suggested that I would probably love watching us.

My husband and I taped us having sex a few months ago, and I was so nervous. He tied the camera to our bed (it has giant posts and bars that go across the top). At first, it fell while we were having sex and managed to fall with the lens between my husbands legs. That was amazing footage because he didn't stop and it was a perfect angle for the penetrating/thrusting. He eventually reached and turned off the camera, mostly because he said he couldn't cum with it on.

Immediately afterwards, we watched it and I was so giddy and excited and nervous. I tried to watch it with a non-critical eye towards my physical flaws, and with the camera falling, I was incredibly turned on seeing him penetrate me from an angle I wouldn't be able to view otherwise. For some reason, he immediately deleted it after we viewed it. He thought I was only approving the viewing it once; he knew how tentative I was about it being recorded. I was devastated; I wanted to watch it over and over again, and savor the images. I guess we really should have discussed that.

So, we did. The next time it was tied up, it stayed. And while there is only one angle from that point, it was so nice. He ignored it completely, and was even able to climax. We watched it together afterwards, laying in bed, still a little breathless. We could pause the film and copy some amazingly hot pictures of ourselves (something that I relish viewing even more than the tape). I'm still nervous about having a recording, but I believe it shows how much I trust my husband to keep it secret, and vice versa. And, I have to admit, we're pretty hot together.

Now that we have one recording, I don't know if we'll make another. I'm not in any hurry, and I now have something to watch when we part ways again. And, I looked great, and he always looks amazing; I would hate to look terrible and maybe become self-conscious (I'm not at all, and would prefer to keep it that way).

Bondage:

We've been doing this since the beginning. I have a special affinity to being blindfolded and tied up, unable to move, only able to hear and feel and smell. Those three senses somehow become so much more prominent, and it is glorious. And I adore having the decisions and control that I always have in our relationship completely taken away; it's such a refreshing change, and one I keep telling my husband I want in general sexually.

Likewise, I love to tie up my partner. I am somehow more bold, brazen, mischievous. I can torment and see his smile, feel his muscles tense in anticipation, laugh when he wrongly guesses what I'm about to do, hear his sharp intake when I surprise him. I am little, and yet in that moment, I am utterly in control and can do exactly as I please.

We make a big to-do about this; this is not activity we do with children present in the house. All our toys come out. We normally do this a couple of nights: one for me to be bound, one for him. My husband deviously discovered keeping a bowl of ice is perfect for keeping a glass dildo cold or his thick kabar knife.

I love using a knife during these moments. He didn't even seemed concerned the first time I straddled him and put it up to his neck, running the flat of the cold blade across his warm neck. That is mostly what we use it for: it's cold steel against hot flesh, with mostly the flat of the blade gliding smoothly across a small portion of skin. It's incredibly erotic to me. We don't often use the sharpened points of the knife, perhaps the tip gently grazing, never cutting. It requires the receiving partner to remain perfectly still, and just feel, or risk the danger of accidentally getting cut (we've never done this).

Tying is one of my husband's favorite activities, still after all this time, and so when asked best moments, he insisted it remains memorable throughout the last year.