What I Like About You

-You tickle me until I'm breathless and panting.

-When you say "Hey, can I tell you something?" it's always something good.

-You still tell me, apropos of nothing, that I'm beautiful, or gorgeous, or sexy, etc.

-Every once in a while you reach out to hold my hand when we walk down the street.

-You're always up for some cuddling.

-You love when I cook for you, and ALWAYS eat seconds.

-You share a tub of Ben and Jerry's well. ;)

-You show interest in my work, don't denigrate me, and support me whenever I need it.

-You trust me with your secrets.

-You truly care if I orgasm or not.

-You've been keeping your promises.

-You'll run to the store for me.

-When I broke my foot you carried me up the stairs and put up with me not wanting to be helped. Heh heh

I Hate Goodbyes

I hate saying goodbye to M. Even when it's only for a few days. I get inexplicably sad when I'm watching him walk away, or when I finally turn around and head to the train station or in the direction of my apartment, alone. It's particularly difficult when we have no plans to see each other in the near future. At least when I know I'll see him in the next few days, I can have something to look forward to.

M doesn't seem to be as effected by parting as I am. I suppose that's normal. I think he has confidence that we'll be seeing each other again soon. And I don't believe he feels the same urgency that I do. I also think our definitions of "soon" are vastly different. And that's probably to be expected, too.

M leaves to visit his mom for xmas every year. He's gone for a week, and I know his mom looks forward to his visits. It's sweet, actually. And I don't begrudge these visits, but I do miss him. It's even worse than a normal goodbye, because it'll be even longer before I get to see him. And the distance makes the feeling of separation all that more acute.

Also, and this is going to sound so puerile, M was sick the night before he left, and it was the first night we ever spent together and didn't have sex. Poor guy had chills and a fever; his whole body ached. I tried to take care of him as best I could. He was very sweet, and thanked me over and over for being there to tend to him. He held me tight and told me he loved me, and I teased him that he was delirious with fever, but it still made me smile to hear it. Guys can be so adorably pathetic when they're sick.

A few things that have been taking the sting out of his being away are that I actually have xmas plans this year, I've been shopping for his gifts online, and he and I have chatted online a few times since he's left. Last year I didn't spend any holidays with my family, and it got me very depressed. Searching for M's gifts has been a lot of fun. And seeing him on webcam has softened the blow of being so far apart.

I still hate saying "Goodbye", but saying "Welcome back!" is going to be exciting. ;)

To Meet With An External Force

I think a type of orgasm that may have been overlooked in Project Orgasm, tho lg did make passing mention of it in one of her original posts, is multiple orgasms. And just to make it a bit more specific; forced multiple orgasms. I've written about how if I get an O in during foreplay all my other orgasms can come much, much easier, but the forced ones are different.

The first time I was forced to orgasm was with "Daddy". He bound my ankles together with rope and looped the rope all the way up my legs, encasing them. He bound my wrists behind my back and tied up my breasts and upper arms. I felt like a caterpillar cocooned in rope lying on the floor of his playspace.

I thought that would be the extent of it. At the time he was doing alot of practicing rope bondage on me, and he'd tie me to the bed, to the medical chair, to myself, and just admire his handiwork or adjust something, or take pictures. This time he grabbed the hitachi and nestled the handle in the gap between my thighs and the rope with the bulb pressed up against my pussy lips and clit. He flipped the switch and walked out of the room, down the stairs, and back to his work, leaving me there to twist and writhe on the floor.

I came over and over, unable and unwilling, to dislodge the tormenting vibrator. I had no specific instructions to cum or not, no directives of how to endure the delicious torture. I just went with it, allowed myself to give in to the building waves of flaming pleasure. I was sweating and I could feel the hair at my neck and forehead sticking to me. My hips weren't bound so I was able to slide my cunt back and forth over the smooth shivering head of the vibe. The crease of my thighs was slick with the combination of my sweat and overflowing cunt.

I wasn't aware of it, but I was told later I was being checked on periodically by "Daddy". And after I don't know how long, or how many orgasms, he came in and switched off the hitachi. I laid there panting and blushing under his smirking gaze, my chest straining against the rope as I tried to regain normal breathing. He left me again, but this time informed me that I was to get myself unbound, tend to the rope, and then come downstairs. My legs were still unsteady as I made my way down the flight of stairs to the first floor.

M does forced orgasms a bit differently, as you may imagine. He doesn't use implements on me often, and I don't think he's inclined to be absent for my orgasms. Instead he uses a combination of his voice and body to force me to orgasm over and over. It's not as "simple" as persephone's "countdown" orgasms. Not that I mean to imply those are easy, I know it took a long time of intense training for her to be able to produce them. I only mean to say I require penetration and touch in addition to M's voice to achieve this. M's forced orgasms are more subtle than what "Daddy" did.

It begins with an embrace, his body pressed along the left side of my body. He'll wedge his leg between mine and slide his left hand across my hip towards my cunt. The leg he has hooked around mine pulls back taking my legs along with it, spreading me open for him to explore me more easily.

While he positions me more advantageously, he murmurs into my ear. He'll talk about the sex we'd just had, how my cunt feels under his fingers, what he enjoys doing to me, how pretty he thinks I am, how slutty I am for him, and on and on. A steady stream of flattery and dirty talk pouring into my ears and running thru my body, pooling into a puddle between my thighs. The words and the physical attention feeding each other to increase the hunger building in my pussy. The effect of his whispers and his touch on my body gives him more fodder to tease me about my wantonness.

Sometimes M will just continue to manually stimulate me until I cum so many times I involuntarily push his hand away. Other times, and most recently, it's led to him creeping down my body to force my legs open and latch his mouth onto my cunt. This is my favorite time to receive oral from him; once I've already been aroused.

I'm not entirely sure of what he's doing with his mouth, but I'll attempt to describe what it feels like. At first he closes his lips around my clit, using his top lip to keep the hood back further exposing my already bursting clit. His tongue feels wide, as opposed to pointed, and velvety. I can't take ferocious licking, it feels painful, so he uses these long luxurious licks beginning at the base of my clit, over the round tip, along the top, and then back underneath again.

Every so often it feels as though he puckers his mouth into a kiss gathering the skin of my hood to cover my clit, and then spreads his mouth open, working my lips apart and pulling my hood back again with his tongue gliding along everything at once. That's seems to be when he reintroduces his hand; sliding 2 fingers into my, by now, sopping cunt, hooking them in that familiar "hook" shape all the gals love.

Usually, by that point I've already cum a bunch of times. The lower half of his face is glistening with my juices, and there's a wet spot under my ass. My hips are lifting up off the bed, my head is thrashing around, my fingers are buried in the curls of his hair, my hand cups his cheek and chin, my chest expands and contracts rapidly with my heavy breathing, and I'm making whimpering, mewling little noises in between begging him not to stop until I collapse into a shuddering pile beneath him.

Another way he forces orgasms out of me is when I'm on top of him. My favorite way being when he reaches up and clamps both of his hands around my throat as he thrusts up into me. His brows are knitted together, furrowed in intense concentration, and he'll growl at me to cum as I grind my cunt down on him. He'll allow me a second of reprieve after I've had one, nudge back into an upright position, and growl to, "Do it again." I've had squirting, as well as multiple, orgasms like this with M. When he's gotten as many as he wants, he pushes me onto my back and slams into me until he reaches his own orgasm.

Once, and I masturbate to this experience all the time, M had me on my back while he sat up. He used one hand to hold the hood of my clit back, rolling a finger over my clit as if it were a marble, while he slowly slid his cock in and out of my pussy. The rhythm of his finger was slightly faster than the leisurely stroking of his cock, and I could feel every inch of him filling me. It was an exhilarating juxtaposition, having him easing in deeply, while my clit was plucked and caressed into an electric burning. I could feel my cunt gripping down on him, pulsing uncontrollably as he forced orgasm after orgasm out of me.

From some folks perspective "Daddy's" forced orgasms were more classically administered than M's. M is in direct physical contact with me, and "Daddy" let the rope, hitachi, and the "mind fuck" of it do it's work. But the way I define the forced orgasms is a sort of detachment that all the experiences have in common. It's not a complete withdrawal, both were "with" me on some level, but they were "sitting back", observing me, coaxing the orgasms out of me over and over, and I am toyed with and used.

Which isn't to say that I want a cold distant lover, that doesn't turn me on at all. A musician cherishes his instrument, cares for it, practices it, it's an instrument to be played for the enjoyment of the maestro. I become a conduit of pleasure for my player, strummed and plucked and manipulated to elicit a response. I sing, I hum, I vibrate.

It's not up to me, I was forced to.

Talking Head

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Fuck Doll

The other night when M and I were together, he said something in the few seconds between me getting completely naked and him entering me, that surprised me. It didn't seem to fit into the the theme of the post I was writing, so I left it out. As most bloggers will no doubt admit, some things are omitted in the interest of continuity. But what M said got me thinking, and I thought it might be worth an entire post. Also, I'm going to try to see if I can do a post a day this week since I'm already on a roll. We'll see....

When M and I were freshly naked in the moonlight, right after I kissed him, with his cock in his hand, he looked me up and down as I leaned back on my hands. It was dark in his room, but his bed is alongside a window and the moon shone thru lighting our features in relief. I was more fully lit than he was, and my face, breasts, stomach, and legs glowed pale blue. My nipples were erect and my legs were relaxed in a figure 4 shape, slightly parted. In those few moments of him looking across and along my body, reaching out to my breast and pressing me down onto my back, we had the following exchange.

"Sometimes I want to use you as 'target practice'."
>laughter< "Huh?"
"Use you to jerk off to."
"But you have all those pictures of me, every shoot I've ever done."
"Yeah, but it would be hotter to with you right in front of me."
"Well then, why don't you?"
"Because I always end up wanting to fuck you."

And that's when he entered me. And fucked me, as I said, twice.

And it got me thinking about being used like that. As a living piece of porn. In my various incarnations as a sex worker who doesn't fuck her clients, I've had many instances of being jerked off to, but I can't recall any times where a lover has done this. Maybe it seemed a wasted opportunity? Or maybe I've attempted it, but either one of us became overcome with the desire to fuck rather than taking the jacking/jilling off to completion?

I'm really not sure. I seem to recall writing about something along the lines of an extreme mummification along the lines of the play that Deity does, but I think it was in the private blog I used to keep for just "Daddy" and I. And I don't think that's what M meant when he said he wanted to use me as "target practice" anyway. I think M would prefer to have my body completely visible and completely articulated when he jerked off to me. And I'm fine with that, tho being bound and used like this would be super fucking hot.

Even tho I find it extremely flattering, and it does wonders for my ego to turn my boy on just from him looking at me, I don't know that I could withstand that type of scrutiny. I can imagine how red my face would be to have to endure the position changes, the exposure, the intense focused attention that it would involve. I'm certain I wouldn't be able to make, nevermind maintain, eye contact with him.

And I can also imagine that that is precisely why I want it.

Even the denial of intercourse is turning me on, at least in my head. Heh heh I'm more of an "instant gratification" kind of gal, so I'd probably find it so frustrating to be objectified and then not pounded. Still, my mind fill with images of just being used for my appearance, and maybe my mouth, too. I'm not so sure M would be able to resist fucking me; he empathizes with my arousal to the point that he ends up fucking me more often than not when I go down on him. It would take none too little restraint on his part to keep from satisfying me, especially considering how much pleasure he derives from making me orgasm, ejaculation or regular.

Still, if M was using me as his fuck doll, having me pose for him, spread for him, bound me open, or wanted to use my mouth to bring himself to orgasm, I'd be an enthusiastic little fuck doll for sure. I do feel satisfaction in satisfying M, and I love to play new games with him. As frustrating as it would be for me to be denied the filling of my cunt, and for as embarrassing I find inspection to be, I would love every minute of it.

Lg's Project Orgasm

I was graciously invited by lg to participate in her Project Orgasm Series, and I would first like to thank her for her confidence and flattering invitation. She, along with persephone, have been very friendly and encouraging of my writing from the very beginning of the venture. Thank you both for your comments and reflections.

I was asked to write about my experience with my female ejaculation, or "squirting", and while I was pleased, it did give me pause. It's a controversial subject, some people don't think it exists, some people think it's just pee, and science still has nothing definitive to say about it. Regardless of all that, it's happened to me. I'm here to try to explain what it's like for me, and maybe even help a few gals to have one. ;)

"It's kind of awesome."

~M~

I remember the first time it happened, I was horrified. Like most women, I thought I had pissed all over my partner. I was on top, riding a very large cock, grinding away, slamming him so deep inside of me I could feel him in my stomach. This particular lover would spend a long time playing with me before the actual fucking began, and this time was no exception. As I impaled myself on his cock I began to feel my face and chest flush. There was probably pain involved, something I had yet to fully explore, due to his size and my enthusiastic bouncing, but I'm certain that only added to my pleasure. As the intensity of the orgasm built, I felt an irritation, not unlike the tingling I feel when I have to pee. I became concerned that if I came I would end up pissing all over my partner, but it was feeling way too good to stop.

And then the sloshing sound...Beneath me was a puddle of fluid. It was more like water, thinner, than my pussy lubrication. And it was all over; covering him from navel to mi-thigh and soaking the bed. I collapsed on top of him, trying to catch my breath and completely humiliated. That's when my, more experienced, partner informed me of what I had just experienced. I'd had orgasms before, at that time mostly with myself, but had never ejaculated before. I had heard of it, but had never experienced it. I was relieved that it wasn't piss, and and fell asleep happy with my new discovery.

My squirting is infrequent enough, tho not exactly rare, that I have had to piece together over time what it is that creates the phenomenon in me. Prolonged clitoral stimulation until orgasm during foreplay helps to get me over the initial orgasm "hump", I orgasm much easier after that first one. Being on top is the position I squirt most frequently, tho I have had them while on my back. Also, for me, "squirting" is a bit of a misnomer because it's more of a "deluge" than discernible "spurts". The next piece of the puzzle is a bit of a personal controversy for me, because I seem to be more likely to cum like this if I've had a few drinks. Now, I'm not sure if this helps with any inhibitions I may harbor, or if the alcohol contributes to the stimulation of my urethra, but there's some correlation there. Most importantly, I need that spot way in the back, on the anterior wall of my cunt stimulated relentlessly, even painfully.

I asked M, my current boyfriend and for whom I'm the first girl to do this, what his thoughts were about my "squirting" in preparation for this post. I've had more ejaculating orgasms with M than any other partners I've had, and the partner I've discussed it with most, so he's had more opportunities to form an opinion. He informs me his first reaction was to think that I had pissed, in his bed no less, but that he quickly realized, "Oh wait, that's not pee pee." He was dismayed that he hadn't seen it happen.

Now that he's become accustomed to it, M looks forward to them. They're still unique enough that he considers them "a pleasant surprise. [a] hot surprise." He called them, in a recent conversation, "a flashing marquee that says, 'NEXT LEVEL' is going off" and "more specifically, it's really hot". When I asked him to describe them from his point of view, he replied, "You're really grinding me at that point, and because of logistics, its not immediately apparent. You keep getting wetter and wetter, you can hear the squishing, and my balls are covered in warm fluid. Then, 10 seconds later it starts spraying EVERYWHERE. And you don't stop, you don't even notice. You just keep fucking me into oblivion. I get covered in a warm wetness, and it is pleasurable because your cunt is also constricting. And lady cum is going everywhere. " I thought "lady cum" was a cute way to describe it. ;)

It fills him with pride to be able to make me orgasm like this, and I'm happy that I make him feel good with what, for me, is an earth shattering orgasm. Some guys don't "believe" in the female ejaculating orgasm, and they can be kinda shitty about it, but I think those are just guys that haven't experienced it. But I think most guys would enjoy having something so rare happen to them. One of M's friends even expressed jealousy because he had never had a girl cum with him like that.

I feel pride in it, too. It was a source of some embarrassment and anxiety, at first, but now I realize how special and unique it is. Feeling that much pleasure is nothing to be ashamed of, and to give that much pleasure to someone who can appreciate it for the amazing experience it is, makes it that much hotter.

In My Head

I was curled up under the blanket on M's couch last night watching TV when he slid up along my body with his face an inch away from mine. He dipped down to kiss me softly and said, " You know, I still want to fuck every time I see you. From the moment I'm with you, I can't wait to get you in bed."

When we got into bed M pulled me under him again, and seduced me with whispers in my ear. It's become the surest way for him to not only get me wet, but to make me subdued. It's so difficult to remember what his exact words are, he coaxes, teases, and flatters. He barely touched me, just his warm breathe, the briefest of kisses on my neck and earlobe, a few flickering licks across my skin.

I wriggle and squirm under his body pressed down onto me, and my head swims from the attentive murmurs. I blushed and couldn't meet his eyes. I was crawling out of my skin at the same time I was curling deep into myself. I gasped at his more explicit whispers, and groaned when his words caused my clit to twitch with anticipation.

He told me to reach inside my panties to test if I was wet, and my fingertips brushed against my humming clit and between the folds of my pussy. My fingers slip easily across the slick flesh, and M tells me to bring my hand up to his lips. My lubed fingers glide across his mouth and his tongue peeks out to lick at them.

M asked me if I missed being owned, and I told him I did. I miss the rules, and belonging to someone. That's not to say I'm unhappy with the level of play we have, or that I will push for M to become my 24/7 Dominant. I'm willing to wait and see what amount of play we're comfortable with, I'm happy with what we do now.

He told me to remove my bra and panties, and he pulled off his underwear. I sat up to kiss his face, and the moonlight thru the window illuminated our bodies. He looked down on me as I leaned back on my palms. Cupping my breast in his left hand, and gripping his stiff cock in right, he pressed me down onto my back and entered me smoothly. My breathe caught as he sunk into me deeply, and my cunt shuddered around him involuntarily.

And he kisses me. And he fucks me. Twice. And we talk after as we lay there; his head on my shoulder. We talk about how our sex has never been bad, it's never even been average. I tell him that the odds, just due to sheer volume, should have worked out to us having had a blip here and there. But no. He says that even if it did ever happen, it would be an anomaly, and would no doubt go back to being good. And we laughed at the implausibility of it.

He says we're always pushing our limits, that it makes our sex interesting for him. Then I think he became concerned that maybe my limits weren't really being pushed. He asked me if he did indeed push my limits, and I said yes. He wanted an example, so I told him that when he beat me with the belt that my tolerance is so low that it had really hurt. But I had endured it, and it had added to the experience of following his instructions. The consequences, and his willingness to enforce them, excited me.

Before we drifted off to sleep we noticed that the kitten had been curled up on the corner of the bed all throughout our fucking. M often jokes that the cats think we're "fighting" when we fuck. I said the kitten must have been thinking, disgustedly, "Gawd, they're fighting again!" M cracked that he always wins. When I said that since he thinks I look hot when I cum that even when I win, he wins. His reply was, "Get out of my head."

I gathered his face up in my hands and covered it with kisses, even kissing Stanley, the freckle on M's left eyelid. And I sunk into the pillows, nestled against M's body, sharing our warmth under the covers. And I thought how good this is, how amazing this feels. And I fell asleep smiling.

Streak

I may have been wrong about M being sadistic. I woke up with a deliciously swollen upper lip yesterday. It's been a while since I've had a memento of the previous night's play aside from the inner aches resulting from rough pounding in my cunt or ass, or a scratchy throat from my mouth being fucked raw.

It started out sweetly enough. M slid his fingers between my thighs and played with my clit. He whispered in my ear about how slutty I am, and how quickly I get wet. He kept up a litany of hot and filthy talk so close to my ear I could feel his hot breath breeze by my ear and tickle my neck. I was faced away from him with my back pressed along the length of his body, our legs entwined, so he didn't see the effect his words had on my cheeks that burned with pleasurable shame.

My pussy wasn't the only thing that melted as he continued, my brain became goo. My mouth was roughly used, and my throat was completely stuffed. He cut off my air with his cock and held my face in place not allowing me to pull away for much longer than he has before. I struggled to breathe, barely audible desperate squeaks trapped in my throat. When I was released I pulled away sputtering and coughing for a moment before I was pulled back by my face and erotically suffocated once again. I could feel my cunt leaking onto my thighs.

I was smacked across my face, I can't recall why, choked, and taken with little concern for my insides. I begged to be called a whore. My mouth was filled with his tongue. I rode him with a soaking cunt and a clit so on fire every stroke sent a shock down my legs and crackling up to my nipples. I grunted and groaned not caring if his roommates could hear. I have no idea how many times I came in all.

He flipped me onto my back with my knees pressed into my forehead, and he slammed away at my already battered cunt. M alternated between closing his hand around my throat, his face nudged between my calves, his eyes glaring fire under knitted brows, and gathering me up in his arms so I became a tucked ball of easily fucked flesh beneath him.

I protested futilely when I felt him empty me and press against my asshole. I was summarily ignored and forcefully entered and treated to the full length and breadth of his cock from the initial thrust. I gasped with pain and screamed with pleasure. I gripped at his ass urging him deeper and harder, feeling pride as I endured his final spasming when he emptied his balls deep in my ass.

Afterwards he told me he really enjoys my wriggling when he cuts my air off with his cock. He wants to be rougher with me, I think. But I think it also frightens him. I don't believe he's ever tapped into this possibly sadistic side, I don't think he's ever had the opportunity to. He chokes me regularly, slaps me occasionally, and gives me spanks even while we walk down the street (which makes me giggle and smirk), but how rough he wants to take it fluctuates with his mood, it seems. Regardless, I'm enjoying the streak. :)

Counting Coup

*SNAP*

I was sitting down in M's computer chair and he's sitting on his bed with his belt in his hand. I'd just arrived at his place and I took my rain boots off. We were talking about what we were going to order to eat while he straightened up his bedroom. He made an impish snap with the belt while I looked at the restaurant's menu online, and I glanced over at him giving me a sly little smile.

"You have to be careful with leather belts," I said returning my attention to the menu. I often give M guidance with implements, having been on both sides of them for longer than he has.

"Why?" he asks.

"Well, they can leave marks and break the skin. It's a pretty painful implement," I replied absentmindedly. M isn't sadistic, and we don't use equipment much when we play, so I wasn't giving it that much attention. I didn't consider too seriously that he would use the belt on me.

We cuddled in the dark waiting for our food to arrive, ate our dinner, and snuggled in front of the TV for a bit before M decided we should go to bed. I followed him upstairs into his bedroom and jumped into bed fully dressed.

"What's the rule?" he said, referring to my clothed state. I know the rule, but I've naughtily "forgotten" it just to be "reminded". No jeans allowed in the bed, so I pull them off and crawl under the covers.

"Take your clothes off," he murmured after turning off the light and kissing me. He removed his at the same time, and got back into bed sitting upright with his back against the wall. He told me to straddle his thigh and his fingers found my clit. I wound my arms around his neck and his mouth opened to my kiss.

He told me to get on my hands and knees, and his fingers continued to play with my now slick cunt. His fingertip slipped wetly over my clit and between my lips, and my skin crackled with electricity at his touch. He hovered over my shoulder and whispered, "You are so wet, you can hear it," and there was an audible squishing between my thighs that he accentuated by tapping his fingers against my hole. I buried my face into the pillow in shame and I sensed him reach for something behind me. That's when he laid the buckleless end of the belt across my back and slid it down my flesh. Now, he had my undivided attention.

His mouth was pressed against my ear when he said," I want you to count how many fingers I put into you." M dipped one finger into me and I didn't respond quickly enough, so SMACK, I received a crack of the belt on my ass. I quickly counted out, "One," before I get another one.

He entered me with another finger, and I quickly answered with "Two!" before the belt can come down on me again. M worked his fingers in and out, and I was lulled by the pleasure. I was too slow to respond when the third finger enters me and the blows are rained down on my ass quickly and harshly, taking my breathe away. "Three!" I gasped, "Three!".

Four, and then five fingers were in me. I could feel on my right cheek where the tip of the belt has bitten into me. It continues to sting even thru the pleasure M's fingers are giving me. I didn't want to be smacked again, and I don't mess up for the rest of his hand. I felt sorry for myself, and I buried my head deeper into the pillows, covering up my ears. Mistake.

M grabbed my left hand and placed it on my left cheek. I was surprised to feel how cold my skin is under my fingers, deep within I'm still burning from the belt. I dropped my hand lower and I touched his hand working between my stretched lips. I can feel myself expanding to accommodate him, and he's up to the widest part of his palm. That's as far as I've been able to take him, his hands are so big. In my mind's eye I pictured how his hand must be glistening with my juices.

But I've missed the reason for him placing my hand behind me. Burying my head into the pillows in embarrassment prevented me hearing his command, and when I didn't perform properly he whipped the belt across my ass. I flattened under the smacks, but his hand never left my cunt. He reached for my hand again, and I heard him clearly say, "Didn't you hear me? I said but your finger in your ass." I quickly complied entering my asshole with one finger while he twisted his hand in my pussy.

I was emptied of his hand and he replaced it with his cock, thrusting deep inside of me. I kept my finger in my ass while he roughly fucked my cunt until he removed my hand to get deeper. I arched my back with him gripping my hips, and I used the wall to brace myself. If I stay still like that I can feel him butting up against my cervix, and I love that deep dull thudding pain.

M dismounted and laid a pillow down at his knees, telling me to lie across on my back with my head towards him. I reach up to his hips and pull his cock into my mouth. I taste myself on his already soaked cock, and he slides down my throat easily. In and out his fucks my mouth like it was my cunt, and I worked my tongue as best I could over the head of his cock and along the shaft. He was curled over the length of my body. I could feel the curls on his head, and his breath from his moans, tickling my thighs. I felt a tear of drool escape from the corner of my mouth running down to my chin.

He gathered me up by my underarms and turned me around, laying me down on my back and filling my cunt with his cock again. I wrapped my legs around his waist, spreading my thighs wide, grinding up against him to meet his thrusts. He curled his arm under me gripping the opposite shoulder, and used his other hand to cup the back of my head, pulling me down onto his cock and stabbing deeper into me. I nibbled at his shoulder pressed against my face, licking at the crook of his neck.

Again I was flipped onto my hands and knees, but it was my ass that was pierced. I grunted and gasped, and I felt that searing pop when he squeezed in the full length of his cock. He rammed into me, not taking his time to ease into me. And that delicious searing burn spread across my body radiating from my asshole. He bounced my on his cock with his hands on my hips, and I felt a thread of juice from my cunt slap against my inner thigh and run down to the mattress. He came grunting and breathless jammed deep inside of me and we both collapsed gulping air hungrily.

After we had cleaned up and I was nestled in his arms, he asked me how he had done with the belt. I told him a couple of those smacks really hurt, but that it hadn't been anything I couldn't handle. The things that boy comes up with all on his own, without researching or prior experience, and so successfully, is pretty impressive. Pulling all this off is quite the coup.

Proper

I've been fantasizing about fucking standing up a la Henry and June ; the scene where Anais and Henry are under a bridge, or a short tunnel, and she's up against the stone wall. A shot from that scene is on the cover of a volume of Anais's diary that I have, and it conjurs up daydreams everytime I see it.


When I picture it in my head, I'm wearing a skirt. Recently, it's been a pencil skirt, with a white blouse and black lace bra. But the most important part of the outfit is the lack of panties and the garter belt with stockings. All the clothing stays on, so the skin that peeks out from the top of the stockings is like a dirty secret whispered into someone's ear.


I imagine M's hands running up my leg and gripping my thighs tightly. I twist my legs around his waist and his teeth clamp down on my neck. His pants are opened only enough to get his cock free, and he fucks me with deep hurried thrusts. He's not terribly concerned with my comfort, he's more interested in stuffing me with every inch of his cock and filling me with cum.


The passion and inability to control it is what turns me on about this fantasy. I'm not interested in "getting caught", public sex itself isn't the aspect of the fantasy I'm drawn to. It's the hunger and desire I'm after. The loss of resistance, caution, propriety...

To Tell the Truth

I've been being a bit disingenuous on the blog as of late. This is supposed to be a sex blog, and since I've been in relationships with the partners I've written about, by extension it's also a relationship blog. But I never meant for it to be a "relationship" blog, so I have kept out a lot of the relationship related events. Not all, but most. This has lead the blog to take an unsexy turn, in my opinion. It just doesn't seem as hot and steamy on here as I used to be.

It's not because my sexual escapades have deteriorated, or become banal. M and I still play and experiment and it's as thrilling as it's always been. Sex is not my issue; the relationship is my issue.

M continues to see other people, but that's not exactly my problem. My problem is that he sees other people and I feel he's being dishonest about it. Finding out anything about these other girls is like pulling teeth with him, and I can't seem to make him understand that if I'm able to operate in this type of relationship I need him to be open with me. His hiding of things only increases my anxieties.

He has improved a bit, it's just so sloooooooow, and it's trying. And he doesn't seem to understand what I need to feel special and important, and I'm not even sure he cares.

I go back and forth wondering what I mean to him. Sex is such a large part of our relationship, and it's as important to me as it is to him. And the passion and desire we feel for each other is intense, as any of my readers should be familiar with. I wonder if I mean more to him than just that. I have doubts about his feelings for me, and I don't want to have those doubts.

M has told me that he would never leave me for any of these girls. He tells me he loves me. He says our sex is amazing. He tells me I'm beautiful, and that I have a gorgeous body. He says I'm never boring; that I'm fun. He tells me I'm the only one who has a specific day, that is inviolate, that he spends with me.

What I don't know is does he talk with them the way he talks to me? Is he telling them how beautiful they are? Is he introducing them to his friends? How often does he see them? Does he cuddle them, stare into their eyes, caress them, the way he does with me? Is he using condoms every time?

And a million other things...

He doesn't chat online with me, text me, or call me to chat. I feel ignored and not a priority. But mainly I'm just don't feeling like he cares for me. I feel closer to him when he's honest with me. It actually turns me on, not because I think it's hot to hear about the other girls, but because the intimacy that develops as he's telling me fills me with desire for him. I know it's difficult for him to talk about, and when he does I feel trusted and that my feelings matter to him.

All I want is the truth. I can handle it.

Rough Sex

"If I fucked other girls like I fuck you, they'd press charges."

~M~

M has gotten more aggressive lately. After last Friday night I continued to feel the effects of our fucking all the next day. My throat was sore from bearing the onslaught of deepthroating his cock. My cervix ached after being pounded relentlessly from behind. My ass smarted from being stretched and stuffed completely with his cock, the only lubrication having come from my dripping cunt. He commented later how easily he had slipped in even without additional lube.

I didn't think he had been holding back before, I guess he had been, tho. He's been inquiring afterwards to make sure I'm okay with what we're doing. Even tho I've told him before that I like the rough stuff I guess it's unusual for him to be allowed to slap, choke, and call someone a whore and have them like it. I reassure him that I do enjoy his passion and his aggression.

I think I need to emphasize how important it is for me to be reassured too, afterwards. I love to be taken in a way that's completely uninhibited, and I am doing what I can to encourage him to continue his treading this path. However, I'm not sure that he is aware that I need aftercare.

With that type of violent fucking I eed to be told how I'm cherished and appreciated after. I'm happy to be objectified and used, I crave and desire it even, and I love the increased frequency and intensity. I only hope I can convey the importance of also feeling that I'm cared for beyond the sexual passion I can incite in him.

Rock Star

Ok, not exactly, but he plays out and does short tours.

M is a bassist, as I mentioned previously, and I've been to a few of his shows. They're not usually very largely attended, but that doesn't matter much to me. My pleasure comes from watching M perform. I think it's hot to watch someone doing something they do very well. I read somewhere once that people find "competence" attractive, regardless of the activity being performed.

I think M feels the same way when we do our cuckolding sessions together. He's said that he can see that I'm good at what i do, tho also admitting that he has little first hand experience. He was impressed with the way I use my body to dominate my clients, and the tone of voice I use along with what I say to them.

We had another cuck session recently, and this one went even better than the last. M is becoming more comfortable, and he comes up with some fantastic ideas for humiliation. He's playful in session and it matches my style very well. He still doesn't have direct contact with the subs, but I think I prefer it that way. As M says, I'm the flag, he's the flag pole, and no one pays attention to the flag pole. Heh heh

We even had a few seconds of play on our own before the session. M and I were waiting for the taxi to arrive, and he led me into a more secluded area to "warm up before session". He had me open my coat to show him what I had decided to wear ( a black tube dress, thigh high stockings and 5 inch heels), and he commented appreciatively, telling me to turn around so he could see me from behind. He told me to lift up my skirt and the hem of my coat so he could look at my ass and legs. I was wearing these cute boy shorts with a keyhole opening that showed my ass crack.

Just as I felt M's fingers slide across my skin, he heard a noise, and told me to pull down my dress. Two cyclists rode by us, the one in front warning the other that there were "hikers ahead". They were almost out of earshot when we heard the second one say to the first, "Those weren't hikers." M and I erupted into giggles, and it soothed my disappointment that we hadn't been able to get further.

Sometimes I get concerned that M will eventually come to find me boring, but it seems that he genuinely enjoys the ...unusual activities that we explore. We press each other's limits, and that can't be boring.

Careful What You Wish For...

From a few weeks ago...

Apparently I succumbed to the bravado of internet sex blogging. Or maybe it was the bright light of day that caused me to be so shy. Maybe my big mouth got me into trouble once again. Possibly, I didn't take into account how long it's been since I had to submit to things, and am so out of practice with it, that I froze.



M had me crouched in the froggie position pressing down on my back so my chest was squshed against the bed, my forehead sunk into the mattress. Behind my left ear I could hear him murmuring to me, "What was that you wanted to do? What did you write on your blog? Hmmmm? Did you write filthy things about your ass?"



My face burned with embarassment, and I lost my voice. I just pushed my face into the comforter trying to hide my shame. I hoped he wouldn't ask me a question I would be expected to answer. I didn't want to admit to the graphic acts I had admitted to. I could feel how hard he was through his underwear as he pinned me down continuing his verbal teasing.



He touched my clit and I sheddered and squirmed unable to get away. My cheeks were aflame from his words and my growing desire. He has to know what the sound of his voice, combined with his touch, does to me by now. He's witnessed the effect he has on me, can feel from the wetness of my pussy. He said, " I know you like this. I know someone likes this, because she's so wet right now. Do you know how wet you are? Can you feel how soaked your pussy is?"



He released me and stood beside the bed, telling me to take his cock out and suck it. When I took him into my mouth I could taste the precum that had begun to ooze out of the head of his cock. That familiar saltiness covered my tongue and sent a thrilling shiver straight to my cunt. I love when I get him that turned on. When I began to bob up and down on his cock, he told me to look at myself in the mirror. I stole a quick glance , but my shyness, and the angle I was kneeling in, prevented me from looking longer.



M turned me around and crouched me down into the froggie position again, covering me with his body. He slid the tip of his cock into me and moved back and forth teasing me with his cock and his voice, "You're such a slut, you'll do anything for my cock won't you? You want more, whore? Only whores beg for cock. If you want more you have to beg for it. Do you want more?"



I could barely form the words, but I wanted more. He had to ask me again before I found the courage to beg him for all of his cock. And he gave it to me, pushing all the way in. He gave me a few more thrusts before he asked me if I wanted him to "make it hurt", and I immediately cried out "Yes, please! Make it hurt, please!" And he slammed into me so hard, and he was butting up against my cervix, and it hurt so deliciously it took my breathe away, and I was gasping and grunting.



I leaned up all the way sitting upright with him still inside of me, but I couldn't get the friction or depth I was craving. I spun around (almost falling off the bed!), and straddled him. He layed down flat and I worked my hips down on his cock. He was so hard and so deeply buried inside of me, it wasn't long before I was close to cumming. I felt the heat spreading down from my face through my neck and across my chest that preludes my orgasms. But M had to stop me by placing his hands on my hips so he could control his own orgasm, explaining in a strained whisper, "I don't want to cum, yet".



After he had regained control, I was able to bring myself to orgasm twice before he flipped me onto my back to plow into me, reaching his own orgasm. He came all over my stomach and chest while I cupped his balls in my left hand, and collapsed to the left of me. He dipped his fingers into the cum splattered across me and fed it to me. I lapped and sucked on his fingers accepting all that he wanted to give me.



Once I'd cleaned off we laid in bed chatting. We laughed alot, more than we have in a while, and it felt so good to be so physically close to him again. He feels so good in my arms and my fingers twirling in his curls. I propped my chin on his chest to smirk at his pleasure. He told me I was beautiful, and I just smirked and kissed his mouth.

Cool As A Cucumber

I hadn't heard from M during the day, but that's not so unusual. He's on jury duty this week (seriously, that's not some new hipster term for some other activity, actual jury duty)and he gets out around 4:30, and I expected a call soon after that. I had makeup on from a session I had done earlier in the day, and my hair I hadn't even bothered with because it was a rainy blustery day and it would just have been ruined anyway. I did shave my legs.

6pm comes and goes and I start keeping my phone closer to me. 7pm comes and goes and I start looking at it even when I haven't heard the buzz for a text message. 8pm comes and goes and I send a text message and attempt to call him. No reply to text, no answer to my calls. I begin to think things like "accident", "break-up", and I keep an eye on my email expecting an "I'm Sorry" message to appear telling me M will not be coming, now or ever. 9pm he calls, no explanation beyond, "Ive been feeling run down," and he's on his way. Ummm, ok. Fine.

Footfalls on the stairs and M arrives. Kisses. Chit chat. Pizza. I'm wondering why he's late, but I also know he went on a date yesterday, and I'm curious how it went. When I ask him about the date, he lies at first. It's pretty half hearted, and I just look at him and shake my head. I don't believe him, and I don't make a secret of it. Then, out comes the truth.

He saw Rachel and they fucked. Later, I was to find out she marked him. She had bitten into his shoulder, in two places, leaving hickeys, as well as raking her nails across his shoulder blade and digging into his bicep/tricep. They did it once, and he spent the night because it was late. It was at her place. I asked a lot of questions, and he answered them.

At no time did I lose my shit. I stayed calm and listened to everything. I told M that I have a harder time dealing with him kissing, cuddling, and looking at another girl the way he does with me, than I do with the idea of him fucking some girl. I told him that her marking him pisses me off, I don't even leave marks on him. I pointed out that I wasn't screaming and crying or throwing shit around, and he said, "Not outwardly." I said, "Well, that's what really matters." I told him that I find him sexier when he tells me the truth and shares things with me that he normally would try to lie about. I told him that when he trusts me with the truth, it creates more intimacy with him.

He held my face in his hands, made sure I was looking him in the eyes, and he told me he would never leave me for her. He was emphatic that they had used a condom, and that if he fucked her again he would continue to. He told me that he doesn't tell me he loves me, not because he doesn't love me, he doesn't say 'I love you," because it seems to him to be hypocritical to say it if he's fucking other girls. He said he doesn't kiss other girls like he kisses me, that it's easy to kiss me, and it always has been. He tells me that when he looked into the mirror and saw the marks on his shoulder that (not surprisingly) his first thought was of me, and he became upset knowing that it would upset me to see it. He told me he was much more appreciative of me than he lets on.

He thanked me for not going insane. He had been so nervous about telling me, but that he had also known he was going to. He had been late because he was scared and anxious about telling me he'd fucked another girl, but that he knew he had to because I had told him that I wanted to know when he did. He was very scared to have me see the marks on his shoulder. He said he was dreading me seeing it.

I thought about establishing some ground rules, and M said I was entitled to lay some down. I don't think I will, tho. It seems that may be setting him up to fail, and if he breaks one of the "rules" he'd be even more reluctant to tell me about it. I offered my opinion that I felt the other girls should know about me, but that it was up to him to decide if he wanted to tell them.

I'm not happy that he fucked another girl, it doesn't turn me on. In fact, it was much more difficult, in spite of the increased feeling of intimacy, to have the very small weak orgasm that I ended up with that night. I don't enjoy the idea of the man I love spending time, energy, affection, or attention on someone(s) else. It does not please me to have images pop into my head, unbidden, of him with other girls.

I am happy that he told me, and answered my questions honestly. It turns me on that he trusts me, and I enjoy feeling closer to him. It makes him more attractive to me. I'm pleased with myself for not going ape shit, tho he admitted I was certainly within my rights to.

M was so relieved, and I think he felt better telling me the truth instead of lying about what happened. I knew he would be, but I don't think he knew how liberating honesty was going to be for him. He kept saying how "awesome" I was, and how grateful he was for me not flipping out.

He should be grateful, dammit. I am awesome. I teased him, using my wit to diffuse my hurt and anger. I didn't insult him, instead telling him that he's insecure and wants new girls to affirm his attractiveness and sexiness. I pointed out that it wasn't that he couldn't have sex with me whenever he wanted, but the novel and new was what he was after.

Makes no sense to me why he would want to have sub par sex with random chicks when he has a kinky, loving, hot for his cock chick in me. It's not like our sex is boring or has dipped in any way. He's as hot for me as I am for him; he gets hard with me as easily and quickly as I get wet for him. He loves the feel of my body curled around him and laid across him. He loves Saturdays when we lay in bed, venturing out for coffee and tamales, then burrowing back under the covers to snuggle some more, fuck, laugh, and talk. He says he can't believe that our weekly visit still drains all the stress of the week out of him; that he leaves rejuvenated.

I'm dealing with it all fairly well. I love him, so what can I do? Mari and I have talked about this before, and I've told her that I want to be with him, and my dilemma is that if I were to tell him I didn't want to see him anymore, it would be a lie. So, I'm with him because I want to be, and he wants to be with me, and that's how it is right now.

Welcome to My World

Well, M officially became a sex worker. Heh heh

M participated in a session with me and it was one super hot session! I don't usually talk about my sessions on here, but O my holy hell was it hot!

It was a cuckolding session, and it was perfectly designed for M and I. I had previously discussed with M what he thought about maybe being in session with me should I get an inquiry about a cuckolding session. He had expressed interest, but until I actually had a session for us, I wasn't sure if he'd do it. I was also concerned that he may have a bit of performance anxiety, he's never done anything like that before so it was a concern. Most guys think they can do it, but very few actually can.

M and I talked about how we'd act with each other, and the sub wasn't interested in anything "bi", so we decided that M would have no contact, verbal or physical, with him. Tho I did make the sub thank M for coming after it was done. That made M and I giggle. ;)

When I called M up to the room he managed to control his awe at the accommodations. It was a very nice hotel, and a great big bad that was going to be our stage. The sub was blindfolded, which I think help all involved. M was a little disappointed that the bound sub wouldn't be able to see, but the sub was nervous so I indulged his request.

M told me to get naked except for my high heels and when he reached between my thighs M teased me about being wet before he even did anything to me. That shouldn't surprise him, even his kisses get me soaked!

M said later that he was a little nervous when we began, but that mostly he was excited. I didn't notice any nervousness when he told me to suck his cock as he unzipped his pants. I took him into my mouth and he was hard in no time. I slurped and moaned loudly, wanting the sub to know exactly what I was doing. I'm vocal anyway, but M is usually less so, so when I heard M say that "it was a shame that he was blindfolded because I love watching her suck my cock," I was pleasantly surprised.

In fact, M talked the whole time, and moaned and groaned throughout. He wasn't faking any of the pleasure he was feeling, but since the sub remained blindfolded he could only hear what we were doing. And he got to hear me orgasm, twice, as I bounced on M's cock.

The most intense part tho was when M put me on the floor between the cuckolded sub tied open legs. This was something that M had told me he wanted me to do before when we were still in only the talking phase of him sessioning with me. M wanted the sub to really feel me getting fucked, to have my body bumping up against his legs, and to give him a real taste of what he'll never have.

M tossed a pillow onto the floor for me, and entered me roughly from behind while I gripped the legs of the sub. I was sweating, and groaning, and M was plowing into me. M's fingers dug into my hips and he pulled my back onto his cock as he thrust in. He bottomed out deep in my cervix. It was the most delicious pain, and it had me screaming.

The sub could feel my shoulders bouncing off of his knees, and I tried not to claw at him too much, but it was difficult! Heh heh. I reached up to pinch at his nipples, teasing him about how I love getting fucked by a "real man". I'm sure that the pillow below me was dampened with my pussy juices. My thighs were smeared with it. I'm sure the sub could smell the sex just as well as he could hear it.

M came hard, and we were panting with exhausted pleasure. We looked at each other smiling, and M kissed me. I got dressed while M straightened up the room and got dressed himself. I gave him a kiss at the door and told him I'd meet him downstairs. The sub was overwhelmed by the intensity of the session, and I have to say I was flying high from it, too. I stayed with him a bit to make sure he'd be okay, and gave him a hug when I left.

I was impressed with M. I couldn't believe how well he did the first time. He'd never seen me in session before either, and he told me afterwards that he thought it was very sexy, and that, even with his limited experience, he could see how good I was. He was just as impressed with me as I was with him. :) And both of us are excited about the prospect of doing it again. M even told me the other day that he "really wants to do it again."

I may be many things, but at least I'm not boring! Ha ha! :D

Woman On Top

I am quickly losing my reluctance to fuck M with me on top. He has always enjoyed having me on top, but when he would pull me onto him, or tell me to get on top, I would whine "But I don't like to be on top," before grudgingly climbing on. However, I have been orgasming consistently while riding M lately, and it's gone a long way towards abolishing my shyness and insecurity.

He likes when I take the initiative and climb onto him, but I'm not quite there just yet. I've done it, of course, but it's still not my preference. I'm coming around, tho, and I've been doing it much more often. I'm not sure if he's noticed. I know M's noticed all the orgasms because he's said to me, "I don't know why you always complain about being on top, you cum so much when you're on top." Heh heh

And my god, every time I do wedge his cock into me, easing myself down onto him, it makes me sharply inhale. I need a second to adjust to it before I begin to work myself on top of him. It makes no difference how soaking wet I am, or even if he's fingered me, M's cock still stuffs and forces me open. That first pierce is so delicious, it makes me concerned about him fisting me, and that feeling possibly going away.

Once I've accustomed my cunt to M buried up inside of me, I begin to slide myself on his cock. I get an image in my head of my pussy lips gripping at his cock, because that's the way it feels. My cunt is like a hungry mouth sucking his cock up into me, desperate for every inch. I don't bounce so much as I grind my clit down against him and buck my hips to rub the head of his cock across my g-spot and bumping my cervix.

M doesn't just lay back and motionless, his hips thrust upward matching my rhythm and intensifying the burning sensation that spreads through my body. My face and chest get flushed and my legs straddling his hips shudder so that even M can feel it. I throw my head back grunting and moaning at the ceiling. I dig my fingers into his chest and often he'll have to place his hands on my waist to still me and stave off his own orgasm. And when I've cum I collapse on top of him, panting and sweating, unable to speak.

Sometimes he won't allow me to stop until I've cum several times. Once I've had the initial orgasm it's much easier for me to cum again, so M will nudge me back into a sitting position and instruct me to "Make [myself] cum again." And, still cloudy headed, I resume rocking my hips, both of our thighs soaked with my juices, and quickly bring myself to another orgasm. He has made me do this over and over before, exhausting me. I can ejaculate doing this. My body well let out a deluge of wetness that drenches M and the sheets beneath us. M has teased me about how I get so wet that his balls and asshole get soaked with my juices.

No doubt M will be pleased to learn of my changing taste for riding him. It's difficult to convince myself that I would rather whine futilely than slither onto a gorgeous boy and have my pussy jammed with cock until I come to a screaming orgasm.

Next I think I have to tackle becoming proficient in anal while I'm on top! ;)

Muddling Thru

It's been difficult to write posts lately. I don't want to only do linear recountings of the sex M and I have. For one thing, I think it could be pretty boring. Our sex isn't boring, but the retelling might not be of much interest, particularly since we have sex multiple times in a visit and that would make the posts very lengthy.

Also, I don't quite know how to write about the other aspects of our relationship outside of the sex. I'm not even sure what our relationship is at the moment. M has told me that he's can't, or doesn't want to be, in an exclusive relationship. It was an odd combination of relief and disappointment to learn that. I was grateful to hear the truth from him, at the same time I was obviously unhappy to learn he wanted to be with girls other than me.

We continue to see each other, tho it looked for a while as though we wouldn't. After so many arguments, "discussions", hurt feelings, and crying fits it looked so bleak that I figured we'd never be able to be around each other. The lying he was doing, so unnecessary in my opinion, seemed never ending, and I didn't feel like I was ever going to know what was truly going on.

M was seeing/talking to other girls all while I was trying to reconcile my feelings with what I was hearing from him. I think he was embarrassed and felt guilty about being caught out in his lies, and I felt like I was the one being punished for his transgressions while he blithely went about his life as if I had never been involved in it. Yet, I never considered him to be malicious, even when I found out about the lies. I don't believe he lied and cheated out of cruelty, but out of insecurity and fear.

Not that these are excuses, there is no excuse for what he did. There was never any reason for him to lie to me, I've had all types of relationships. The pain I was put thru could have been avoided, and continuing to lie to me only left me more confused and hurt.

The bizarre thing is that he trusts me "more than [he] trusts most people", and I think he means that. I hope he's telling me the truth now, and when I ask him about other girls, or where he was or what he was doing, that he'll keep on being honest with me. It's the only way I see that I'll be able to do this, and I do want to do this. I enjoy being with M, and I'm reluctant to end something that brings us so much pleasure.

It's confusing at times, but I'm muddling through it. The time we've been spending with each other lately has been filled with laughter and fantastic sex. M's the only guy I want to be with, and that was brought into sharp focus recently when I was reminded of what exactly is out there. M and I get along so well, and if he continues to be honest with me, I'm happy.

It'll be back to the explicit sex tomorrow. ;)

Torture

I can't get the image of M's glistening cock out of my head. I'm sitting here, minding my own business, and I get a flash of his cock fully erect. It's dark with desire and directed towards my mouth as I bend down to lick.

M's cock is shiny from my saliva, and we're in the middle of changing positions, as I steal a glance before bending down to renew my oral attentions. It strains towards me, deeply reddened and his balls fit perfectly in my hand, like a sun warmed peach. I squeeze his balls, testing their firmness and tug gently, running my fingertips across the ridge behind them. I use my nails to gently scrape the sensitive flesh between his balls and asshole, teasing between his ass cheeks a bit, making him wonder if I'll enter his ass with a finger or two.

The head of his cock I rub across my lips, he's so slippery I have to capture the head between my lips so he doesn't drop away. I take him in further flattening my tongue against the underside of his shaft. I want to get him dripping with spit, lubing him up to deep throat.

Once he's slick, I press him further into the back of my throat. Bent over with him fully embedded in my face I can't breathe, and I fight against the urge to choke and cough, continuing to press him in as far as possible. He puts his hand to the back of my head, and I sense that familiar pop when he gets past that last barrier in the back of my throat. I relax and suppress my gagging as he pulls out and slams back into me. Over and over he ponds into my mouth, pausing for a moment or two once he buried all the way, then pulling out to thrust in again.

My nose begins to run and I haven't had a good breath during this entire onslaught. I can only manage to grab a few gasps between choking thrusts. My clit is a hard pebble screaming for attention and I can feel the wetness seeping from between my pussy lips. I have been known to become so wet that a thread drips to the mattress to pool on my sheets. It embarrasses me how turned on I become from performing oral sex on M, it creates the conflict between finishing him off with my mouth or fucking him with my aching pussy.

The dilemma of choosing is possibly why this image is just a flash, and has no orgasmic conclusion. I receive the succession of images, flash* flash* flash*, and I respond to it physically immediately. Sense memory come flooding into me and I feel him against my tongue, smell his scent filling my head, I get dizzy with it. My ears buzz with his rare grunts, his heavy breathing, and the infrequently moaned "Oh fuck".

I imagine his eyes following the curves of my body across my back to the dimples above my ass and over the mounds of my ass cheeks. I can almost feel the creeping fingers dipping in between the cleft of my ass, invading my asshole. It makes me wriggle when he does that, and I have sometimes been restrained with his hands; my face impaled on his cock while his finger explores my asshole.

I want to do all this and more. My brain embroiders and expands these fantasies without my even trying. I try to shake my head to free them, I try to write them out to exorcise them, I play with myself to satisfy them, but it refuses to lessen. Every orifice is hungry and aching to be filled. My veins vibrate with desire. My skin is so sensitive. My hands travel to my clit absentmindedly, and I find myself rubbing before I realize what I'm even doing.

It's torture.

Bedridden

I haven't had any type of BDSM play in a while. Neither as the top or the bottom, and I think it's starting to get to me.

All this week I have been thinking of the raunchiest scenarios. My fantasies don't usually center around my ass, tho anal is often an aspect of it, but lately I've been spending a lot of time thinking of ass play. Particularly performing or being on display and presenting myself. I'm not sure if it's the humiliation I'm craving or if my wantonness would have me being a panting whore willing to do anything to please. Either reaction sounds pretty hot to me right now.

I tried to write posts twice this week already, but became sidetracked by my horniness. I feel like a raw nerve humming and ready to cum. Playing with myself has offered little relief, and that only temporary. Very temporary.

Some images that keep flashing into my mind are bending over and having my asshole kissed as tho it were my mouth while M pinches my clit, having my finger and M's finger inside my ass at the same time, spreading my asshole open while M rubs the head of his cock against it, popping just the tip in and out of my asshole, having him pull my head back and biting my neck ass he pounds me giving my clit pinches and flicks.

Also, I have been aching for a replay of the time M took my ass when I was on my back and slid a finger into my cunt at the same time. I have a few toys, and I have been thinking lately that the remote control bullet I use on M might be fun on me too, and the thought of being double stuffed with a vibe and M's cock has been sending me to my bed a lot over the last few months.

I've also been fantasizing about teasing M; delaying his pleasure to heighten it. I've never really done that to him, he's said before that we can't be around each other for 5 minutes before we're all over each other, a slight exaggeration but probably not by much. I'm curious to see what his reaction would be to being denied what he usually receives so readily. His expression gets quite fierce when he's fucking me, but how much more passionate and aggressive would he become if I were a cocktease smirking at his frustration? What would happen if I were the temptress instead of the oh so willing soaking wet whore ready for anything?

So, it's been torment for me for days. And, yet again, I'm off to bed...

Warning: It's a Long One! :)

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