Incapable of Thinking

We argued, and I couldn't sleep. Finally around midnight, I pulled him into bed. "Make it right," I demanded.

He laughed and kissed me softly. I rolled my eyes, not quite what I had in mind and he knew it, so I pushed the covers off of him and kissed the head of his penis, just as softly. Then I looked up - not quite what he had in mind when I went down, I could tell. I winked and then moved my mouth as low as I could on the shaft, feeling the thick head hit the back of my throat, increased the suction, and pulled up. One hand steadied his thickly engorged member at the base, the other hand cupped and gently played with his balls as I kept moving my mouth up and down. He whispered encouragements, or quiet sighs, his hand sweeping my hair away and holding it up so that he could watch.

After a few minutes I moved up, kissing a trail up his body until I got to his neck, and then gently nipping it and applying more pressure on his more sensitive areas, feeling his pulse throb under my probing tongue. His hand moved between my legs and stroked up and down my lips. I wasn't quite wet enough for him to dip in yet. The hand moved up to nipples, pinching each other briefly between his fingers, and then to my shoulder. He gently pushed me to my back, off of his neck, and then rolled me to my side, moving to position his mouth between my legs. One hand held my top leg up and his tongue swept up and down my lips, before his hand separated my lips for his tongue to settle into my sex more fully. He sucked while moving his tongue around and in and out of my entrance, and soon I was panting and begging for more. One hand moved to my clit, an awkward angle considering I was still laying on my side, and teased the bud while his mouth still fucked me. I was trying to push myself more fully onto his mouth, unable to stop myself from moving into him.

Taking his mouth away, he rotated me more towards laying on my stomach, inserting a finger in my very slick sex, his tongue almost doing a questioning lick at my anus. He normally doesn't go back there, but I was too gone in my own pleasurable sensations to do anything more than moan my appreciation, and hinged my hips against his tongue and fingers. Two fingers, and rimming in earnest began, and I was moaning and climaxing, not in my usual hard way, but slowly and softly.

"Hold on," he said quietly, and stretched to over the side of the bed. By this point I was chest down, ass up on the bed, and swiftly I had a buzzing and vibrating toy thrusted down into me, rubbing my g-spot easily from this angle, his mouth back between my cheeks, and I was orgasming so quickly and hard, screaming. Before one orgasm had even ebbed another one began and then another and I was lost completely to the world, swept up in pleasure.

After three incredible orgasms, he positioned himself up between my legs, entering me violently, reaching over for some lube and making me slick before slipping his thumb in my ass, pushing down slightly, giving me a full feeling. His other hand smacked my ass hard. His cock pumped in and out at a downward angle, continuing to slide against my g-spot as his head slammed against my wall, and I screamed with an immediate orgasm, my body so tense, so full. Again, his other hand came on to spank my already red cheek. Again, before one orgasm could completely allow me down another built and crest, and I clenched around his shaft, his thumb, held my breath, felt my already sensitive heated cheek being smacked, became dizzy, moaned, screamed, and cursed as yet another orgasm came. I felt him push himself more fully, shuddering with the force of his own orgasm.

When he pulled out, I already came again, moaning softly at the feeling of the ridges of his head moving along my walls before he was gone. His thumb slowly moved out, and I couldn't believe how sensitive I was even there. I let my shaking legs straighten and sunk into the soft mattress, utterly spent. My head was foggy, my thoughts incoherent, but I turned my head and smiled, unable to see his hand descend upon that same fiery cheek. I yelped at the sting, instinctively moving up towards the source of pain, finding that a strange reaction instead of moving away, a moan following a yelp.

"God that feels good," the words dripped of my mouth, unbidden, like my juices flowing down my thighs from the sudden tightening the spank gave me. His hand came down again, and again I moaned into it. Suddenly his fingertips ran softly over my oh-so-sensitive skin, and I tightened and tensed, raising my hips, thighs pressed together as my body clenched itself into another orgasm. I was just surprised as he was, and he spanked my ass a few more times, the pain intense, the pleasure overriding the pain. His mouth followed his hand, licking up and down the hand imprints, and I begged for something incoherently, his mouth now alternating between soft licks, hard suction. He smacked a few more times, following with his mouth a few more times, and I came in the tension my body created.

His fingers sunk between my legs and he grazed my g-spot, bringing me to another orgasm, and I was again mindless.

Breathless by the time he moved away from me, I rolled over my back, the one side of my ass so aware of all the fibers of the sheet. I panted, by this time hours of pleasure not allowing me any sense of realism, and unable to help himself from toying with my quivering self, his fingers grazed my clit. I sucked in my breath, already feeling dizzy from the slight contact, my legs parting without thought. Suddenly two of his fingers danced upon my pearl, and I was so taken with pleasure I had no idea how I ended up laying with my back on his chest, one solid arm across my shoulder and neck so fingers could tugged at a nipple, the other hand quickly alternating between slipping into my sex and rubbing up into my clit. When had I moved?

I screamed, arching against him, arching into his tormenting and pleasure inducing fingers, both on my breast and between my legs. I felt his breath against my ear, harsh and ragged as if he was matching my own breathing, his body seemed to be an unforgiving hard mass against my back and my throbbing swollen ass. It seemed as if my scream lasted for days, and I don't remember quite coming back to the present, just his sexy voice quietly promising to "leave me alone now". I think I drifted; I think I got up shortly afterwards to clean myself up, my legs a wobbly mess and he playfully slapped my ass lightly, but it was still so sensitive, and it felt so good that my legs almost collapsed underneath me. I think he said something to the effect that I came every way imaginable tonight, and I mumbled what other ways he could surprise me about myself.

I don't remember if I ever really opened my eyes, it seemed as if the world shut itself out and the after moments were but a dream. I slept soundly.

The Darkness

She touched the little box in her pocket and smiled, feeling a contrasting shudder and affection for her lover.  Her mind briefly went to a moment where she found herself panicked, standing alone momentarily in a dark room, but she shook the memory away, the only remnants the faint scent of sweat and cologne from that night.

She never thought that she would be obliging this resolution. It didn’t feel like an option, but the choice was this or to leave. That was it then: she could forsake her lover or give up all her free will. Today, at last, she decided upon her lover, content to give up her independence and never felt so free until this pivotal moment.

She walked into her lover’s home. The front door was unlocked, as it was the majority of the time. Silence greeted her, and for a moment she felt herself losing her nerves, the joy in the feeling of being free slipping tenaciously. She gulped for air, determined, and searched the rooms, coming into his bedroom.

The sound of a bathroom door opened, and there was her lover, steam rising in the background, skin glistening, covered in only a towel, and for a moment she thought he was a god come to deliver her. His cold grey eyes widened slightly, the only indication he was surprised by her unexpected visit, before narrowing. But no god, this man coming out of a shower. This was the man who knew every dark secret in her heart, who made fantasies come true without her ever realizing that she had them. I love this man, she thought, and smiled.

Remembering her place, she kneeled down on the floor. Fumbling, her trembling hand reached in her pocket and pulled out the small box – her gift of freedom in slavery. Lifting her head up and looking up at him, she extended her hand, palm up, with the box in it. He smiled, briefly, at her, and it was as if the sun beamed down upon her, so radiant and warm did she feel.

He gazed intently at her eyes, not moving, as if judging if she were even worthy, and she felt nervous. He always seemed to have an air of aloofness, distance. A woman used to making men crazy to be with her, she was incredibly turned on by his detachment.

He loved her; she knew that, but she had denied him sharing her in that black room, changing her agreement of acceptance. And then instantly regretted it, especially when she enviously watched another woman being shared with the men, the screams of orgasms making a hot pool between her own legs. And then he penetrated the woman, and she was equally turned on and insanely jealous that it was not she that was being used so.

He circled around her leisurely, and she moved her eyes to the floor, too nervous to follow his movements. She wished he wasn’t always so self-possessed, and craved to touch her as frequently as she desired his touch. Suddenly he grasped her throat, his other hand tilting her chin up, as he bent down to kiss her from behind. Tongue met tongue and she melted, clinged to him like life, gasping for breath by the end of the kiss.

She realized he hadn’t said a word yet. She also realized that he accepted her gift, though he hadn’t even touched it yet.

He moved to the front of her and removed his towel, already so hard. Grabbing the back of her head, he dove into her mouth and she frantically tried to open wide for him, to make her mouth as inviting as possible for his possession. He didn’t seek the softness of her lips or tongue, he delved to the back of her throat, and she tried to focus on breathing, knowing that this was part of her penance. She dropped the box from his movement, and let her hands drop to her sides. Her eyes watered and she felt the urge to gag with his inflexible sex touching the back of her throat.

She felt herself become wet, and hoped, so badly, that he would also thrust himself between different lips. He understood that about her, whereas no one had. She became free of burdens with him, and wondered why it had taken her this long to finally, fully submit to her own desires in him.

He pulled out of her mouth in the same manner that he had moved in, and either she lost sense of balance or his hand on the back of her neck guided to her fall forward so she was now hands and knees.

“As tempting a sight as that is, get naked and lay on the bed,” he commanded, and she felt herself tightening in anticipation. She scurried to get up, in such a rush to discard her clothing that she cast them upon the little box.

The box that would be opened hours later, when they had spent their passion out on each other, bound more firmly in love and trust and understanding. 

Want to discover what other people uncovered in that box? Click on this wicked one...

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

Clear Vision

         She found herself standing in a dark room alone, silence except for the booming thunder, blind except for the brief flashes of lightning from a large window. She fumbled for the tornado radio on a table, next to the front door, hitting her knee in her effort and dropping something before feeling the radio, and turned it on. The radio crackled out a thunderstorm warning for the following counties, hers being one of them.

            She breathed a sigh of relief. Just recently, a neighboring county had been hit by a tornado, leaving a trail of chaos and destruction. She was glad that it wasn’t a tornado warning. And she cursed that she became so consumed in her work that it was now dark, and for all she knew, she was alone in the building.

            She wondered where a flashlight could be located, and reached into her purse, removing her phone. Turning it on, she used the feeble light to move in between the cubicles towards a large window, stumbling slightly from time to time. Through the window, the rain slashed and splattered down, and the lightning exposed the tips of the trees swaying violently, the moon completely hidden above the storm.

            Not just the darkness confused her, but she still felt as though she were in that book that she was translating. The book she simply struggled to render appropriately, as the words mesmerized her with their dark erotic fantasies. She had always felt superior translating, this book left her humble and hoping she eloquently did it justice; it provoked a physical reaction that still left her wanting.  

            Halfway to the large window, a flashlight’s beam shone directly in her eyes, blinding her. She stopped abruptly, squinting. A man’s voice stated with some surprise, “Ah, Jen, I had thought you had left with everyone else.” His accent thick, making him distinguishable even blind, Jen was glad she wasn’t alone in this frightening storm. He lowered the flashlight, but she still couldn’t see anything. Too bad, she thought, he was gorgeous to look at. Recently joining her department, she and other women would cast stolen glances at him when he was near.

            “I lost track of time, I guess.” She shrugged. Spots of lights still flashed before her eyes, but she could see his form silhouetted in front of the window. She noticed that the beam of light was pointed downwards, at a spot between them in the carpet. The light moved forward, towards her, and she looked up to see him closing the distance between them. She smelled his cologne when he was close enough to grasp her upper arm, and she felt like leaning into his smell, becoming enveloped in his scent that it became her own.

            “Are you alright?” the lightning exposed his smile, he was so close that his words were felt on her forehead. She shook her head a little, blaming her current thoughts and predicament on the book she was working on. Of course, there could be worse things than being stuck in a storm with a hot man. He mistook her shake, and wrapped his arms around her, and she felt his hard chest through his suit. “It’s okay, the storm will pass over us soon,” he murmured, rubbing her upper back. She found herself putting her arms around him, holding him tightly. His heat seemed to cocoon her, and she felt so hot all the sudden she was afraid of perspiring. At least she could blame it on the storm, and his assumption that she was terrified.

            “I’m okay,” her voice came out muffled from his suit jacket; she felt oddly calm at the soothing strokes of his hand on her back, the other arm still holding her tightly to him. The hand moved a little lower, to her lower back, and the circles would sometimes reach the top of her ass. She was sure that wasn’t intentional, and decided to not protest it.

            Still holding her but allowing more room between them, he looked down at her face. “So lovely, Jen, even in shadows and darkness.” She was surprised at the words, but more surprised when his face could be vaguely seen lowering, lips came down to meet hers, his hand now firmly on her ass, pushing her towards him again. She found herself kissing him back, his tongue melding with her own, the taste of him unique. “So hot,” he leaned back and murmured, and she briefly felt his hardness against her through the layers of clothes. The hand caressing her butt gripped tighter, the arm supporting her shoulders was suddenly used to turn her around so fast that she was shocked, letting out a little cry, tripping over her own feet and grabbing in the dark a nearby desk. The arm snaked over her shoulder, pulling her up and against him, the other hand lifted up her heavy mass of hair, and she heard him whisper something in his native language, so soft she wasn’t sure what it was, as his mouth came down upon her neck.  She felt goose bumps along her skin, and her body tremored slightly.

She hazily wondered what she was doing, alone in a storm with a near stranger that apparently didn’t ask for permission to approach her sexually. She debated briefly if she would tell him to stop, or do something, but his other hand slowly started unbuttoning her blouse, the palm grazing the newly exposed skin as he unhurriedly went down the row. His mouth moved to the side, the hand still gently lifting the hair up to give him full access. She moaned, and decided that she would see where this would take her. She could always tell him to stop later.

Fingers deftly made their way into her bra, fingertips caressing nipple tip to a hardened point before tugging slightly. He lips and tongue so warm sliding along her jawline, she turned her head to be able to kiss him. He dropped her hair as his mouth seared against hers, his tongue probing and asking of her own passion. Suddenly, he pinched her nipple hard at the same time as he trapped all her hair in his grasp and pulled her head back, away from the kiss. “I wonder if you are ready, lovely,” he questioned to her ear, still holding her head back as the fingers moved from nipple down, pulling up her skirt so quickly and moving aside her panties that she didn’t even think to protest.

She almost felt panicked at his aggression, unused to it, unsure of him, but a finger stroked against her clit, sliding easily along her slickened lips to penetrate her sex. She gasped, and he inserted two fingers. His mouth again moved to the side of her neck, nibbling and sucking, as his fingers moved quickly in and out of her. “So ready for me,” he said.

Yes, she thought, you and the book of words have me mesmerized in fantasy. She felt herself soaking his fingers, tightening around them, and began panting. He withdrew them right before she could clench around them in orgasm. He grabbed her hip, the hand in her hair now between her shoulder blades pushing, bending her. Her hands out, they felt the impact of the steady desk, and she laughed, curious if he even cared if she had smashed into it face first. Her skirt was hiked up above her hips, her underwear yanked down, and his mouth moved upon her clit. He pushed her legs further apart, and in her frustration to have him down there, she untangled her high heel from one side of the undergarment, leaving it like an anklet around the other. The tongue darted against her nub, once, twice; sighing, she felt him sucking on it.  She shifted slightly, bending more fully over the desk, pushing papers out of her way. The thundered boomed, the lightning flashed, and she prayed the electricity stayed off and not waken her to reality.

His mouth moved back, his tongue fucked her, his lips pulling at her lips. She moaned and pushed against his mouth, trying to increase the pressure, before he moved, the fingers seeking where his mouth had been, his mouth moving up to licking her anus. The fingers sunk in deeply, curling, fucking her to an orgasm that she screamed more voraciously than the violent storm outside.

“Ready for me?” he panted, moving up to stand behind.

It took her a hazy moment to realize he had actually asked her a question. She heard his clothing shifting. “Oh yes,” she stammered, backing up slightly, bumping into his shadowy form. He chuckled, grabbed her hip with one hand, guided himself to her with the other, before both hands were on the sides of her hips, and he was moving them back and forth, pulling her upon him as he pushed, and roughly taking her to another orgasm, slowly the tempo slightly. She became briefly aware of the rain still pounding down to the earth, very aware of him still filling her deeply, and then thrusting fast again, competing with the speed of the rain, until they both shuddered and groaned.

He stepped back, smoothed down her skirt. He began reassembling his clothes before she even moved to stand up again, feeling wobbly, using the desk for support. She decided to lean against it, and turned, still just seeing him vaguely. She struggled to pull up her panties in the same amount of time that he dressed.

A dream lover, she mused. “My tempest,” he leaned down and kissed her forehead, his accent thicker from their passion. The thundered rolled, but it seemed so far away to her, a relaxing soothing background sound. “You were lovely,” he leaned down and picked up the flashlight, shining it again at the floor.

“What now?” she breathlessly asked. He put an arm around her shoulder, and steered her towards the front door.  

“Shall we get you to your car?” He handed her the purse she had dropped, grabbed an umbrella in the doorway, and continued to move her into the rain. As they stepped outside, the umbrella snapped open, lightning flashed, and the lights behind them were suddenly on again. They laughed as they walked away; she was grateful it was still dark outside. She wanted him to continue being a mysterious dream lover. Tomorrow back at work would be soon enough for her to cast furtive glances of longing or askance at him, translating his mood more than her current book project, amid the papers, chatter, clicking of keyboards, and clear vision.

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.

Deep Sleep

I struggled to sleep with my husband. Truly struggled. Actual sleep. Having sex with him was easy. He’s used to sound of mortars and bodies and sweat and violence, and can sleep just fine. But for myself, I need a blacked out, quiet environment with no new movements or objects. Hence why I couldn’t sleep with my husband. And he’s a large presence, broad shoulders, and arms and legs that seem to reach out everywhere. What’s worse: he’s a snuggler. Up until him, I was not. Let me go to my edge, you go to yours. It took over a year of sleeplessness before I could sleep a decent amount, but amazing sex. It’s a fair trade-off.

To make matters worse, it seems like I can’t get enough of him. I can rarely leave him alone. He is gorgeous and sexy; I always want him. He has this bottom lip that begs to be sucked, pulled with my teeth. But I digress just like I do when I try to fall asleep with him. That was then.

The other morning he woke me up, a feat that he rarely accomplishes. I was having the nicest of dreams when I awakened; he was playing with my clit. He often remarks that I must have some wonderful dreams, because I wake up wet the majority of mornings. He dipped inside of me and spread my juices around, and continued to slide his finger around my pearl. One finger applied pressure above it, somehow making it stand out all the more and become even more sensitive. It took me a moment to realize I wasn’t in a dream, and I still felt the fluffy foggy clouds around me, swept up in a romantic fantasy. I must’ve moaned. I heard a chuckle right before my hair was lifted and I was kissed on the side of my neck.

His fingers gently sunk into me, first one, and then two. His thumb continued to rub my clit. His breath warm against my ear before playfully nipping the lobe. His fingers began to press more deeply, with more intent, and I pulled my legs farther apart to give him access.

His body moved lower, the covers sliding down and baring flesh. My nipples hardened and he briefly kissed one before moving his mouth to my growing need. Gently, his tongue flicks at my already hard and tormented bud. He looks up at me, a half smile upon his lips. Again, the tip of his tongue flicked, and he watched me squirmed. His tongue moved lower, tracing my entrance, driving me crazy and my hips trying to rotate his mouth into my opening. He gripped my thighs and held me, looking mischievous back up for a brief moment, before flashing his tongue out for the briefest of moments, and then down against my already slick portal.

Suddenly he was no longer the tease, and he increased both the tempo and the pressure of his mouth. He was gluttonous, but I was starving. I am grateful I can sleep with him these days, for now he has the opportunities to wake me and fulfill my dreams.  

 

For Pity's Sake, No

I cried when he told me "no" after I proposed sex. It was a silly, immediate reaction that I tried unsuccessfully to hide. But the feeling of rejection was fierce.

Being aware that the no wasn't a rejection of me, but to the action at that specific moment, didn't help. It didn't help that we had sex four times already that day. I was unsure of the origin of the sudden tears, as surprised at their arrival as he was. Normally, this wouldn't bring me to tears. Hormones, melancholy that day? Regardless of the cause, there they were: fat, rounded, salty drops rolling their way down my cheeks.

I tried to hide the reaction, but he saw.

"Look at me," he ordered, but I shook my head and tried to duck into his armpit. He grabbed my chin and moved my face towards him. "Why're you crying?"

"I...I...d-don't know," I sobbed out miserably, ashamed at such a reaction that I was helpless to control.

"Let's have sex," he stated, matter-of-factly, kissing my wet cheeks softly.

"N-n-no, you don't want to, it would be pity sex. And I don't want to anymore."

He laughed, wiping my eyes. "Liar." He kissed me softly on the lips, his tongue briefly darted out to feel my quivering lips. "Besides, it doesn't matter what you want, I find myself wanting to have sex with you." He grabbed my hand and tried to pull me off of the couch where we were snuggling, but I stubbornly slipped my hand away from his.

He sat down next to me, and looked at me for a long moment. My tears were slowing, but I was embarrassed and rolled over, my back to him. His hand rubbed my back for a minute, then moved to my waistband of my pajama pants and pulled down. "What are you doing?" I protested, but weakly. I wanted to feel better, and we both knew that sex would make me feel better.

"Taking what I want," he said, right before his mouth breathed on my hip. His hand gently rotated me onto my stomach, and then parted one thigh from another. A finger gently touched my clit, then slowly stroked my labia. His finger slipped inside ever so slightly. I held my breath, until I felt his against the pink tenderness of my sex. His tongue traced around my entrance before slipping inside of me; he sucked gently at my lips as his tongue darted in. He began to move his tongue steadily, increasing the pace and pressure. My core tightened as I tensed, my hips began to move almost of their own accord. "Get on your knees," he told me, not quite taking his mouth away. I slowly moved to my knees, his mouth still sloppily kissing around my swollen sex. He slid his fingers in, first one then two, out and then deeper, probing for my g-spot. He kept pressure there as he moved, and I felt my myself squeezing tighter around his fingers, my body taut, my mind emptying itself of all thoughts save the feelings he was creating. Right before I orgasmed, he moved his fingers and again used his tongue to bring me the rest of the way.

I screamed, I pushed myself into his mouth as if he could devour me whole, as it felt as if I was utterly his. He kneeled behind my shaking thighs, pulled down his pants to his knees, and his cock nudged at my opening. Still swollen and responsive, I moaned as I leaned back into him, pressing hardness into my depth. "Oh god," I breathed, as I moved forward slightly, and then back again, trying for another orgasm, astounded at how ready I was.

"Slow down," he grabbed my hips, and began setting the pace. I began making soft noises that increased volume when he increased pace, and found myself alternating between holding and struggling for breath. Teetering on the edge of another orgasm, he began to slam his cock fully into me and my screams mixed with his moan. I collapsed with the force of my orgasm, my legs no longer wanted to support me. He rolled me onto my side, settled himself into the couch, and my body into his arms. He held my gaze, tried to gauge my mood, and suddenly I remembered how I cried, how absurd I was. As if reading my thoughts, he reaffirmed, "that wasn't pity sex, it was amazing and that's how we're going to remember it."

I nodded, and smiled. "It was amazing," I concurred. "And I'm sorry at how I reacted. It was silly."

To this date, I haven't reacted with tears when turned down for sex. I have, however, jumped up and stomped my foot impulsively, which received me a laugh and teasing: "is that a tantrum?" Where the hell had that reaction come from?

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.

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).

Great Things

I get out of a shower and go into the bedroom, sore from just working out,when he greets me naked on the bed. His smile is seductive, his eyes are confident and mischievous; he is stretched out fully in the middle of the bed, already hard. I laugh and state that I am sore, to not expect great things from me at the moment, but shed my robe. His eyes light up when I stretch my sore body next to his, intentionally rubbing skin to skin. He suggests then, that great things need to come from him.

I can only nod in agreement as suddenly his mouth is upon my nipple, the other hand squeezing my other breast, fingers discover and pull the nipple hard. His fingers rolled the nipple, his mouth pulling the other, hard, until I catch my breath with pain and pleasure. He moves, the cold air hitting the sensitive nubs, and positions his face between my legs. I spread them a little further, bend my knees slightly out, and he pulls apart my lips, and immediately his hot mouth is upon me. His movements are focused, practiced, determined, and he has no intentions of playing the tease.

I am pressing into his mouth, his warm breath against my tender pink sex. His tongue flicks back and forth, then circles around my clitoris. He stays there until I try to shift his mouth lower by moving my pelvis up. He slips one finger around my moist entrance, taunts, softly tracing the lips, dips in slightly and spreads the moisture around, before slowly sinking in. Then two fingers slip inside, curl and press into my g-spot, and probe in accompaniment to his tongue. He begins to suck, his free arm grips my thigh and holds me forcefully there, slows my bucking hips. As his mouth moves harder, his tongue a solid, slick presence against my pearl, his fingers move faster and harder until I am arching into him, panting, moaning, clenching down hard on his fingers, climaxing, drenching his hand.  

I am dizzy, still on the verge of coming down from the cloudy plane of pleasure, when I feel his cock draw me open, quickly thrusting and fucking, my own juices oiling against any friction or resistance, and I am right back up on that surreal fantasy of an orgasm, barely able to breathe, unable to contain my screams in pitch with his plunging in and out. Everything is tense, my thighs gripping, my hips rising up to meet him, falling with his answering weight, muscles clutching his hard shaft, my legs wrapped around pulling him deeper, toes curling, arms around his shoulders and arms, fingers digging into skin as if I'm afraid of falling, nails marking him as surely as his body is bruising mine. I milk him, force him to travel to the finish with me.

I am aware of the pounding in my ears, harsh breathing, his weight pressing me into the mattress though slightly reduced where he's lightly braced on elbows. He rolls over to his side, takes me with him, adjusts so I am also on my side facing away, one arm is my pillow, another arm wraps around me, my butt nestled against his now glorious spent member; we're as pressed together as possible. He brushes my still wet hair away from my face, tenderly kisses me, a sharp contrast to our fucking. Tells me that I am beautiful, and that he is a lucky man. I quip that he is surely a man capable of great things.

Read some more great things for the weekend.

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

Three of a kind

I can appreciate a beautiful woman. The soft skin, gorgeous curves, delicate shape. I am able to look at a woman and appreciate the beauty, like art. I've never been "attracted" to them though.

 I've always been a curious person. If I haven't done it, I want to. So I've always said that one day I wanted to have a threesome with another woman. The problem is I don't like sharing my toys so I'm a bit possessive about my men. Sure, a casual one would work but I'd imagine it's harder to find a man and a woman in the same night. For years this meant I just talked a big game.

At my new job, during classes, I was teacher's pet. Honestly, it's not my fault I'm smart and a bit of an over achiever, but this resulted in the rest of the class being not quite endeared to me. Apparently they don't believe you can be Ms. Prim and Proper at work then go home, go to the stripclub, drink and have sex all night. That just shows how little they knew. It got to a point where almost no one talked to me in that class until one time a girl invited me to a party she was throwing with other people from work. I went, even knowing I wasn't considered one of the cool kids.

 As I arrived I met Ava out front. She was young, brass, and irreverent. She had the body of a goddess and the mouth of a sailor. She was drinking a bottle of red wine through a twisty straw... the whole bottle. Ava eyed me with keen interest, they all kind of watched me. I immediately made a strong drink and inquired as to whether anyone would like to do a shot of tequila with me. My coworkers looked astonished. After that first lick of salt, that first sting of cheap tequila and the gush of lime, I was accepted. Jokes were made, drinks were offered and body shots soon started. S, another of our coworkers showed up to the party a little late, but she was just as intoxicated as the rest of us. She immediately joined in with the exclamations of wonderment over how they never knew I was so cool, and the dirty jokes and the wit? Where had I been hiding all this? As our night continued the jokes became more sexual in nature, as tends to happen when you get a mixed group together for drinking and socializing. A friend of mine, with a pool, who hosted the best parties, called and said he had some male friends over but they were sadly lacking in females. He asked if I knew any ladies who would like to get naked in his pool. I jokingly extended the offer to the girls at the party and Ava and S immediately told me to grab my keys. We were going to cool off on this hot summer night.

As we arrived at the house I could see the effect these two gorgeous women with me had on the men present. Both tall, statuesque women with exotic looks and firm young curves, it was impossible not to stare. Drinks were quickly made and Ava and S did not hesitate to strip off their clothes and dive in the pool. I had frequently been naked in this pool before in front of these men so it was nothing for me to strip down and join. We were frolicking, splashing, drinking and playing. I couldn't tell you how it started. The men were on the side of the pool and it was just the three of us still in. A joking fondle turned to a kiss, which turned into a sincere caress. A firm breast, a body slick no longer just with water but also now too with arousal. S and I both had one of Ava's pert nipples in our mouths. My hand was caressing Ava's satiny smooth entrance and S's fingers were exploring me. Quickly Ava was moaning and had a firm grasp in my wet hair. Her mouth searched for mine hungrily. I couldn't believe that somehow I was included in this erotic show with these two goddesses.

The men could hardly contain themselves while staring with avid interest at these three woman who were devouring each other in the pool. I put Ava up on the side of the pool. I had to taste her. This is always the part I was apprehensive of, but I quickly found I needn't have been. Her taste was light, and the unique smell of her not unpleasant. S continued to play my body like a instrument. She knew just where to press, just where to rub. I could feel her breasts cool against my back as I continued to worship Ava with my mouth. I quickly brought Ava to release and then the places were turned. S smiled up at me as I parted my legs from the ledge of the pool. She was excited and knew it was my first time. Ava and S stared at me and had a dueling of their tongues, fingers darting here and there. Then suddenly the flick of S's tongue was on my clitoris. I was startled and instantly gushing. With Ava behind S, staring at me while bringing S to her own peak, I quickly found release from the expert skill of S's mouth. Soon we are all satiated, and langorous.

We laughed and continued on with our night as though nothing had happened, as though we hadn't just put on the most erotic live show any of those men could've hoped to see. I was bewildered, and privileged to have been a part of that. I look back on the evening with pleasure. Not only had I had my threesome with another woman, I had it with two women who were almost impossibly beautiful. It was so different from anything that I had ever experienced in my life. Being with a woman is a whole different level than a man. They know what it feels like, it's not searching or wondering. There is assurity in movement and action. I, however, still love men and can honestly say that although that night was pleasurable, women still don't do it for me sexually. I'm attracted to masculinity and hard planes. The soft touch of a woman didn't excite me the way a firm grasp of a man does. After that night, Ava and I went on to be best friends and there has never been a repeat. There has never been an awkward moment or desire to either. I'm lucky to have found her and lucky to have been in such capable hands for my exploration into being with another woman.

This post is my first Wicked Wednesday entry. Thanks for the inspiration Rebel!

Wicked Wednesday