Wasn't Convinced

Most girls outgrow traditional cover-up panties when they get older, and they move onto something sexier, be it g-string, thong, boy shorts... the list is long. I didn't. I kept with the same boring underwear . You know, the kind that cover every bit and normally reserved for days that the monthly comes.

A sister changed over, and then another. Watching the g-string go up their crack, I asked, "doesn't it bother you having something up your butt all day?"

"No, you don't even feel it, it's so thin. Unlike your underwear, where you get wedgies and they suck. And there aren't any panty lines in dresses and pants."

I wasn't convinced, and didn't change over.

...Until.

I was in a long term relationship. We bought a house together, shared a checking account (there is no bigger commitment to me - not even marriage, than these two things).  

We booked a cruise, and I bought a slinky dress (which I normally don't wear). My underwear showed so apparently that I decided that at least for this dress, I would wear a g-string.

And I was sold from that point on. My sister was right: no wedgie, fabric so slight that I was unaware of it after a period of time.  

Sure, I slowly transitioned from my boring underwear to g-strings, and then tried some boy shorts, and other types. I began feeling sexier about my undergarments. I wanted all the sudden for my bras to match my sexy panties. I no longer worried if the pants or dresses would show my underwear.

And

         then

My partner started questioning why all the sudden I was trying to be sexy. Who did I have to impress? Who was going to see under my clothes? Why did I need to replace one type with another? Why was I wanted more form fitting pants and purchasing more dresses?

...Who was seeing under my clothes?  Why was I changing? Why was I showing more skin? Why did I start dressing like a whore?

                                   Who was I sleeping with?

He didn't believe my simplistic reasons, he wasn't convinced. There was a sinister reason, he believed. Suddenly everything I did was suspect, I could no longer do anything without being questioned.

                                 All over my choice of panties.

Yoga I've been doing for years: why did I still have to do? Why was I trying to be more flexible, to move in more positions?

Eating healthy: didn't I look good enough?

Watching a new television program: who introduced me to that?

Going out with friends: was I really going out with friends? "Send me a picture of you and your friends."

This went on for quite awhile, until I had enough. Sadly, looking back, I let it continue far too long. It might not have started with panties, it might have triggered by so many different factors that I was unaware of (his friend was cheated on, he was gaining weight, we were so serious so young...the list is far longer than the types of panties). Unfortunately, the material covering my ass was just the first target. And who knows: it could've been the change in undergarments.

But my ass, and the lack of material covering it, was out of there.

It's amazing how some people perceive fabric at our innermost layer.  For some, it reflects our innermost fantasies, desires. It represents us, our scent, our secret, our sex. It can reflect our time of the month, our insecurities, our confidence, our sensual side.

It can create suspicion, incite lust, kick start relationships, or end them.  

 

Green

It was pale green silk and lace that I slowly slipped from my body.

 

Come see some sin

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.

A's Acting

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We are

Frisky visitors

This week's choice for Sinful Sunday was turned into a sexy threesome as Jack and Jill of Frisky in the 916, one of my favorite couples, helped decide which photo made the cut. Thank you for your awesome help and great inspiration!

From Jack and Jill: 

This one may be our favorite, though as stated above, it was really difficult to decide.  This one feels like a modern-day cheesecake type pinup, the sort of image one might find on the cover of an erotica anthology edited by Violet Blue or Rachel Kramer Bussel.  An exquisite shot that combines everything we love about the two previous shots, from the position of your head to the alluring stockings.  Yeah, I'm going to go ahead and say it: This one is our favorite.

See who is being sinful with me

In the end

Discover who's being Sinful with me

I'm ready for my spanking...

Then I'm ready for the rest 

Satin and lace

A delicious combination.

 

Sinful Sunday