Thursday, September 24, 2009

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! ;)

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

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. ;)

Wednesday, September 16, 2009


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.

Thursday, September 10, 2009


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...