Laani's Blog

Don't Go There

2011-04-25T02:04:00.002-04:00

So, there are all these websites and TV channels I can't go to now. They're way too painful to visit. They bring back so many memories. There are too many associations with M. I have visited them regularly for all while we were together; certain TV shows/channels we watched together at my place. They've become internet and TV land mines I need to sidestep. If I accidentally happen to step on one I cringe instantly.

Even walking down my street I see reminders everywhere. These I obviously can't avoid, so I try to avert my eyes. Even when I hear the train that used to bring him to me, which is impossible for me to avoid, I instantly dip in emotional well being.

Everywhere I look in my apartment, I see things he's left here or gave me. I can't get away from that. Also, unavoidable. My own fucking apartment is working against me!

I suppose none of this matters anyway, because I can't get away from my mind. Especially since I gave up drinking. It's all so raw. It's so painful it makes my throat close up and my stomach twist. I think I'm done crying, I have no tears left. It's just a deep, open wound. And it makes me question everything about my life and my choices, and my confidence in my ability to live this life and be the adult I'm supposed to be. Everything seems wrong.

I hate even writing this. I had hoped it would be cathartic, but it hasn't been. It's just bringing back memories I can't get out of my fucking head. They spring up. They destroy me.

Oh. Look. I was wrong. I do still have more tears.

If You Can't Say Anything Nice...

2011-02-21T10:44:00.002-05:00

M dumped me. I don't feel like fuckin'. I don't feel like talkn'. I don't feel like boggn'.

He has his reasons. Fuck, I have my reasons.

I do not want it to end. I want him still.

It hurts too much.

So You Wanna Be A Professional Dominatrix

2010-10-11T19:57:00.002-04:00

I have returned to the Dungeon I began my professional Domme career. It's under new management; I wouldn't have gone back otherwise. I had major conflicts with the previous owner, but it is now all female run, staffed, managed, and even the webmaster is a webmistress. I'm still independent. It's like being a hairstylist in a salon. You service the salon clients, yet you still have a "book" of clients that are your own.

So, the week I began there was a new girl. She'd never done BDSM stuff before, but she had done phone sex and it included BDSM talk. I tried to take her under my wing a bit. Actually, I didn't try, she asked me to help her, so I showed her some stuff...rope work, different flogging techniques, I even offered to show her some makeup tips. She's a bit crusty punk, but not in the stinky way. It's more stylistic, if you know what I mean. She thought wearing Doc Martens were an ok boot to wear in session. Now, I'm a grungy riot grrrl from waaaay back, so I have no problem with Docs, but it's not gonna get her sessions. Plus, she wanted to wear yellow eyeshadow.

You gotta be you, and I told her that. But one must also keep in mind who our audience/clientèle is. It's not young hipster, punk, crusty guys. We get old men, I.T. guys, professionals. They like a little goth look, but they don't want a chick who looks like she just crawled out from behind a dumpster. Have you ever watched the old school Degrassi? The seasons with Spike; the punk chick who got knocked up? She had "fringe", and so does the new girl. I haven't seen that in so long. The new girl received a wig from another girl that was ratty. I tried to brush it for her, and she got all irritated. Well, fuck her then. Go out looking like you just grabbed your hair from the trash can.

When I started I was humble. Not by design, but because I really didn't know much about topping/Dommeing. I listened, I watched, I learned. I fucked up, I excelled, I kept clients coming back.

My advice is the same sort of advice you would get for any job. Keep your mouth shut. Watch everyone. Pay attention. Empathize with the client. Be enthusiastic. Don't do anything that makes you uncomfortable. And by "uncomfortable" I don't mean something you don't enjoy necessarily, but something that makes you want to run. There's a difference.

That's all for now.

Happy Birthday To Me

2010-08-21T21:36:00.003-04:00

We do it all the time. We do it without giving it all that much thought. We do it because it makes US happy. It's not even so much that THE BOY will notice, it just brings us pleasure to make his life have an unexpected joyful moment. YEAH!!!!!

M and my anniversary was Aug 1st. I gave him 3 books about WW2, based on The Pacific. We watched it together. He didn't recognize our anniversary. He even gave me shit about it. He said that I shouldn't expect him to keep track of all the significant dates that I do. I told him that there are only 2 dates I keep track of...our anniversary, and his birthday.

I don't even care about a fucking present. And if he thinks I'm the type of person who gets angry because I don't have a pair of diamond earrings waiting for me....

The present I asked for last year was a letter about how he felt about me. Frankly, I'm tempted to adk for that agsin. Asking what the new expectations are.

To Begin With

2010-03-22T10:03:00.003-04:00

Persephone was asked about how to meet a dominant man. She wrote a wonderful post about her search for a dominant partner online using eharmony. I've read her for a long time, so I had followed this process on her previous blog, Persephone's Obedience. At the time she began with Luke, I began with M, and had commented to her that our lives were paralleling strangely. Reading in more detail about her search made me think of how M and I met, so I asked her if she would mind if I detailed how M and I came to know each other. She thought it was a good idea, and graciously expressed her own interest in knowing how our relationship started.

It was an odd series of events...

About a week after Daddy and I parted, my girlfriend Astrid invited me out. I'd been feeling down, and she thought a night of dancing would be just the thing to get me out of my apartment and cheer me up. I put alot of care into getting ready, but it ended up being for nothing. Astrid and I had fun talking and having a few drinks, but every guy we talked to seemed completely incapable of even the most rudimentary conversation. I met a guy who professed to be a writer, and he couldn't even come up with any interesting stories to tell me. I found it extremely frustrating, and I was kinda fed up, with guys in general that week, which culminated in a bit of a rant that you can read here.

During the course of conversation with Astrid, she mentioned she had a profile on a dating website. I was a bit taken aback by that confession. I never imagined Astrid internet dating. I suppose the original stigma is disappearing, and I didn't judge her for it, I was just surprised. And then I became curious.

The next day I got online and found the site, OKCupid, to look at her profile. Initially, I thought I needed to create a profile of my own to search thru the site, but I've since learned that I may have been wrong about that. Nevertheless, I spent a bit of time creating a profile and putting up a pic. I didn't take it seriously, wasn't creating the profile to attract anyone, and began my search for Astrid's profile.

OKCupid has a few standard questions for it's profiles that everyone answers. In addition to that there's a series of questions you can answer that improve your ability to "match" resulting in a "match" percentage, a "friend" percentage, and an "enemy" percentage with all the other people on the site. These voluntary questions also create "personality trait" icons that give you a quick view of the person's personality. These are particularly helpful for kinksters because on this site there is a "More Kinky" icon. (It's cute, too! It's the butt of a woman in garters with a whip!) There's also a feature that allows you to make a request to a potential match for a more detailed report that compares the actual percentages so you can see which of you is actually kinkier. There's also a "Quiver" feature, but more about that later.

I wasn't having much luck finding Astrid, so I started answering the voluntary questions. The questions vary in seriousness, and you can choose to skip one if you don't want to answer them. They're multiple choice answer with the options being of the "strongly disagree" down the line to " strongly agree" variety. They were fun/funny/interesting, and I had a ton answered in no time.

There's a million ways to waste time on OKCupid beyond searching for "the One". There's a journal/blog feature, quizzes, a chat feature, and a message board/forum. The feel of the site is light hearted, and can appear to be just for "hook ups". No doubt many people use it for that. It's not as serious as eharmony, but there are people there looking for serious relationships. On the profiles people have options for what it is they are looking for (e.g. long term dating, short term dating, activity partners, etc.) You can block people, rate people, send "winks" (non-committal "hiya"), and create a list of (and have the option of letting them know) who your "favorites" are.

As I continued to explore the site, I received a message or two with not very good "match" percentages. I didn't bother with them, until I got one with an exceedingly high "match" percentage. It was something like a 90% match. But the message was empty, they hadn't written anything. I went to look at the profile, and the pic was a pretty cute guy, so I read his profile. He seemed interesting, so I emailed him back saying that the message had been blank.

When he replied, it was with a message full of humor and I could tell that he had actually read my profile. Apparently, I had appeared in his "Quiver" (a collection of people the site sends to you that have a high "match" percentage), and I had the highest percentage with him that he'd ever encountered on the site.

This is how M describes his first view of my profile:

"I'm not sure what your first impressions of me were, but you're gorgeous. Your pictures that you posted showed you off, of course, but they weren't overly concerned with "look at this sultry angle" and heh, I was able to tell that you probably weren't just "internet hot" Your pictures were candid and fun. You obviously had personality (god... I had no idea how MUCH personality) I thought you looked the rare combination of hot, yet fun. I agonized over what I could say to you to get your attention, because as I've stated, you're out of my league. Then OKC hiccuped and the now infamous blank message occurred and the rest is history."

There was an exchange of a few more messages, and soon we were chatting on the site's instant messaging feature. When private messaging on the site there was an option to "slap" the other person you're chatting with that we both used. It was a flirty indication that this guy might be up for some spanking. At the time, the chat feature was new and had a lot of glitches, so we moved to Yahoo I.M. We were laughing and teasing each other right away. I definitely flirted with him, and I used the "More Kinky" icon as a means to discern his receptiveness to BDSM and D/s play. I didn't go into much detail, I was just testing the waters. We didn't have any awkwardness, and we ended up talking until something like 5am that first night.

M's side of that first conversation:

"I remember talking to you online. You seemed snarky and spunky and like someone who would take my ribbings and jokes well. I let my guard down quickly and before long we were just talking. I didn't have to figure out if I could say something that would bother you or not. For one thing, the initial part of our conversation dealt with your annoyance that OKC deemed me "More Kinky" than you. I wasn't sure if you viewed me as a challenge or an impostor. You kept grilling me about what I'd done or what I was into. I remember telling you after some prodding that I liked anal sex and you did the internet equivalent of blow a raspberry at me and replied, "child's play". I suppose at that moment, there was no turning back and we had to meet and see where we stood."

[For the record, I was not grilling him! Heh heh :) I did, however, tell him that anal sex was "not kinky." ;D ]

He got no sleep, but when I woke up I had another message in my box. He was emailing me his phone number and daring me to use it. Of course I took him up on it, and sent him a text saying, "O, I dare alright!" He called me on his lunch break, and I believe that's when we mad our first date. I think this was on a Thursday, so from our initial messages to chatting online to that phone call was about 3 or 4 days. We made our date for the next night, Friday August 1st.

I had work that night (I was still working at the restaurant then), and I begged to be allowed to leave after the dinner rush. Of course the bus was late, and I was getting so angry. I called M and he told me he had had his own delay at work. He had gotten a last minute call for an order, and he had told the (French) customer that he had to go (sometimes customers get chatty while ordering) because he had a date. And the guy understood, quickly ending the call! Hahaha

When I got home I quickly did my make-up. I had discussed with a co-worker friend what I was going to wear, so that decision had already been made, and I rushed to do my hair. I called M again, telling him I was running behind, and we agreed to meet in the city at a bar that would be easy for me to get to from the train. While riding the train I was excited, nervous, and didn't know if we should hug, or shake hands, or what when we finally met.

It turned out he made the decision for me, opening his arms when we spotted each other and I crossed the street. It was a good hug, and I thought he was cute, tho he looked different from his profile pics. In the pics he had a beard, but on our first date he was clean shaven and baby-faced. I was attracted, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to sleep with him. I wasn't thinking about BDSM right then, only vanilla, but from our previous conversations I had found him receptive to choking and face fucking, at least. He had also admitted to a kinky fantasy that we eventually fulfilled.

This is M's version of our date once we reached the bar:

"You just charmed the shit out of me and were rough enough around the edges to violently keep my attention. I don't even remember a lot of what we talked about because I just tried to give you an open-ended question so I could just stare at you while you talked. I loved looking at your full, expressive lips while we talked. I loved ribbing you and the faux-offended way you pursed your lips and pouted (equally enthralling was the "are you fucking kidding me?" look with a flash of New Jersey sass you'd flash me when I went too far) when I poked fun. From the moment we sat down at the bar I wanted so badly to kiss you. I loved your hair, I loved your unself-conscious way of laughing, you smelled good and you met me at every turn when I'd pop off with something stupid and somehow I didn't offend you or make you think I was dumb and/or juvenile."

"Every time you touched my shoulder or my leg while we were talking, I took notice, and it was like a bolt went through my system and my "holy fuck" alarm went off. I'm not sure why I finally kissed you in the bar, but like I've said, I never do shit like that. Usually I have to be kissed. The urge to take you was uncontrollable, yet our conversation was so good that we stayed until the bar almost closed!"

That first kiss made me blush! Me?! Blush?! After that there really wasn't any doubt for me. I was very into this guy. I remember laughing until my cheeks hurt, and his smile was so disarming. He had great stories to tell, and told them well. He'd traveled alot thru Europe, to Asia, and all over the U.S. He seemed to be able to find the humor in things; a trait I admire in others, one I sometimes lack. I thought he was paying attention to what I had been saying, but from what he says up ^there^, I guess not! Heh heh :) He also told me that when we left the bar, the bartender, an acquittance of his, asked him my name, and he totally blanked! He says he remembered by the time he got into the cab. Silly boy...

Yes, I had sex with him on what was, technically, our first date. I admit I can be a bit impulsive. I wasn't actively looking for someone like Persephone was, but I was honest about who I was from the beginning. M was assertive enough to contact me, gaining the confidence from the high compatibility percentage. I felt comfortable discussing things of a sexual and kinky nature because of the personality trait icons that indicated we were both "More Kinky".

Maybe eharmony would be best if you know you want to get married, but OKCupid may be good for women interested in dating around a bit, and it's free. There's plenty of other things to do on the site, it's user friendly, and not everyone on there is just looking to get laid. I think the problem with sites like FetLife, CollarMe, and Alt.com is that they are fetish/BDSM/Sex sites. That's what their focuses are on foremost, not relationships. Vanilla sites offer you the chance to have things in common other than your sexuality, and that's what is going to create a relationship beyond mutual kinks.

M didn't, and probably still wouldn't, consider himself a Dom. He doesn't identify with that, but he was receptive to playing and exploring. He's enjoyed our games and continues to Top me more and more. He's developing games of his own, taking the initiative to create his own play as he becomes more comfortable, and figures out what it is that turns us both on. He's good at it, and it's a process we're doing together.

I'll leave you with these final words from M:

"It's a rare and beautiful thing when 2 depraved people can meet and act out impulses without fear of being admonished, or worse, having the other merely endure someone else's kinks just to placate them. I've never done that with you. I have never thought that you've done that with me."

Ask Laani

2010-03-16T12:53:00.002-04:00

I recieved an email over the weekend with a few questions in it, and I'm posting the email as well as my response, as promised.

Hello Laani!

You said March is the month for your readers to ask you questions, so here goes:

1) In your last post you mentioned you have a Pro-Blog??? What is that? How can I find it? (I just recently discovered your blogs, my boyfriend has been secretly following it and just decided to share it with me a few days ago. Apparently he's been getting off to your stories, hehe, and since we've been talking about adding another girl to the mix, I suppose he wanted to introduce me to this blogosphere as a test? To see if another woman would honestly arouse me? Who knows. Well it worked. I fell in love with your writing style and your posts. Since Monday, I've devoured all the posts I could find since 2007, if there are previous ones, please let me know!)

2) How did you, when did you, discover bdsm? D/lg dynamics? Your submissive side? How did you become a dominatrix?

3) In bed you're submissive, but at work you take charge in, what appears to me to be, a very Domme way. Do you associate yourself as a bottom and a top? Are you a switch? If so, are you equally comfortable in both roles?

4) You worked at a sex club? What was it called? Is it still open?

5) How did you find the erotic literary salon?

6) If you haven't already, could you make an "About me" page? We both want to know so much more about you. We find you to be an intriguing, sexy, coy, and playful minx.

Sincerely,
-Mina

And my response...

Hi Mina,

Thanks for asking. :)

1) My Pro-Blog is one I use for work on my website. I don't think you'd find it of much interest as it's for the clients/slaves. I did have a private blog that only Daddy and I had access to, but I stopped keeping it when he and I parted.

2) How and when I discovered BDSM is harder to describe. I remember reading romance novels as a teenager and I always responding to the over-powering or binding of the heroines. I didn't identify it as BDSM, it just turned me on. I had a bf in my late teens that lent me the Ann Rice books, The Beauty Chronicles, and that really left an impression on me. I had another bf that I explored spanking and rope bondage with, and we did a little D/s, too. It wasn't until "Daddy" that I really got into it. I called him "Daddy" the first time we had sex, and he was significantly older than me (16 years), and it was easy for us to slip into the D/lg dynamic. He told me he wanted me to keep a blog, which ended up being the private one I mentioned, and I went around the internet looking up this type of play. I didn't find much, and so much of the ageplay stuff was Adult Babies, which I'm not into.
It was at Daddy's recommendation that I try being a pro-domme. I was skeptical, but he said I was smart enough and creative enough to do it. He sent me to an acquaintance of his that ran a dungeon, and I trained there. Eventually, I went independent, and now I work for myself.

3) I'm a professional Switch, technically. It's unusual, it's mostly Dommes, and it be dangerous if one isn't very careful. I have done switching with M in bed. Lately, he's been the top and I've been bottom. I'm most comfortable being submissive/bottom. I feel that way naturally, and have an eager to please type personality.

4) I've had quite a few sex industry jobs...stripper, phone sex, webcam modeling, photo and video work, as well as being a pro-switch. The dungeon wasn't a sex club exactly, it was a house of Domination with a staff of Mistresses and many playrooms. In general I do not like swinger's clubs, BDSM clubs, or fetish events. I don't like to play with men for free unless I am in a relationship with them. And there's alot of posturing and posing that doesn't interest me either. Most of the pro-dommes at those events are just show, and the fetish models pretending to be dommes annoys me also. Having said that, I know quite a few wonderful pro-Dommes that I consider very good friends.

5) I read about the salon in the paper, actually. My friend Devo and I attended, and the rest is history.

6) I don't think I know what you mean by an "About Me" page. Is there some kind of application on blogger for it? (ed. I figured out what she meant, but I have no idea what to write on an "About Me" page. heh heh)

I appreciate your taking the time to write, and I'm so pleased you enjoy my writing. Feel free t contact me with any other questions/comments you may have.
;)

Laani

Mea Culpa

2010-03-07T09:44:00.002-05:00

Sorry I've been absent lately. Probably no one much noticed, but I just havn't had the urge to write lately. There's been a lot of play recently, with M and my friend Renee.

M has become very adept at turning on the "topping", and he enjoys making me feel "small". He changes the inflection of his voice and I find myself unable (unwilling) to deny his instructions. He seems to enjoy objectification the most. I'm not sure if that's him feeding off of my desire for it, or if it's the natural male desire for voyuerism, but I'm not complaining. ;)

My friend Renee and I have been playing also. We have an agreement for a month of her "owning" me. It's a relaxed sort of ownership, but she likes playing with me. She's a Pro Domme also, and she's only Dom. She's never a bottom, in life or professionally. She enjoys my service oriented submission, and she loves the idea of me being her sexy little maid. She ordered a uniform for me that is soooo fucking super cute and hot! I cannot wait for it to arrive!

In addition to play, I have been working a lot more. I have a new slave that requires a significant amount of attention, as well as new clients contacting me weekly. All of these are good things, but end up cutting into my "reflecting" time, which means my blogs suffer. It's probably been even longer since I've updated my Pro-blog....Sigh

It's also hard to be motivated to blog when I don't have a mandate to do it. I no longer have a Dom/me to direct me to blog, so there are no consequences for my slacking. Also, and this is not a plea, I get few comments on my posts. That may be due to my unreliable posting, but one feels more of an obligation to post if one feels like people are actually interested in what one says. That's not to say I am ungrateful for the commenters I do have (lg and persephone I'm looking at you >wink<), quite the contrary; only that if no one cares, why should I?

And to that end...Apparently, March is the month to open up your blog to questions. If anyone has a question they would like to ask me I'd be happy to answer. You can send them to me via email at theladylola@gmail.com or you can just pose them in the comments section of this post. I will honor any questions asked to the best of my ability, and as quickly as possible.

Turning the Tables

2010-01-03T11:56:00.003-05:00

So, M and I did a little experiment. Instead of M being the "bull", he participated as the cuckold.

There's a guy I met recently, and he was (is?) very attracted to me. Chris called me to visit the night M came back from his holiday trip to see his Mom. I had time to kill before M's plane landed so I said "Sure." M got in early, so when he called I asked him if he wanted to do something "kinky", and asked if he's be interested in being cuckolded. Chris was willing o participate to, so all were agreed.

But, inevitably, Chris wasn't up to the job. I have a really bad track record with trying to cuckold the guy I'm in a relationship with. It didn't work with "Daddy", and it didn't work this time with M. Chris was able to do a bit for a while; I successfully gave him head, but he was unable to complete the deed. He couldn't fuck me.

In my opinion It's just as well. When I go to M's place that night, after several texts telling me to "Hurry up. I want you," that made me giggle with anticipation, I was fucked properly. No issues with my M achieving a "tire iron" erection. And it felt so good to feel him again. There was even a little reprise in the morning before he had to go to work.

M hasn't had that much to say about the experience, other than he enjoyed being able to watch me, and that he got aroused watching me blow Chris. He feels I wasn't fucked "properly" and wouldn't be able to judge his reaction accurately without me getting a good hard fuck. In my experience I doubt that's going to happen.

I'm not particularly interested in revisiting the scenario, not with M as the "cuck" anyway. It's not our dynamic. It seems unnatural somehow, tho M and I do "switch", for me to cuckold M. I'm not that interested in other men, and I'd only do it again if it would urn M on, which I'm not entirely sure it would. I mean, M was turned on, but all things considered, it appears to me to be more hassle than it's worth, it doesn't increase M's desire for me in a significant way that I can discern.

I wish I felt like I knew what I was doing. What I want to do is constantly experiment with M all the kinky things that could turn us on. I don't think anything we've done has been detrimental to our sex life, and I'm loathe to misstep and cause some sort of rift. I have no clue what would be "too far." It's my nature to self reflect, and there's this blog, so I will analyze the ramifications of the games we play. Sometimes I can't help feeling like I'm dragging M along for the ride, and he's only interested in the novelty of it, and doesn't find these games as much of a possible turn on as I could.

What I Like About You

2009-12-26T19:24:00.002-05:00

-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

2009-12-24T09:59:00.004-05:00

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

2009-12-16T11:28:00.006-05:00

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

2009-12-10T13:41:00.002-05:00

Let's talk blowjobs. Some chicks do it, some chicks don't. I confess I can't really wrap my brain around the concept of not giving head, but I hear there are girls in this world who absolutely refuse to do it. I also hear that those same girls really, really enjoy getting eaten out. They aren't GGG. These girls don't concern us here, I only make mention of it because they're missing out on all the fun.

I've been giving head now for about 16 years, give or take. That's alot of cock. Now, not every guy I've had sex with I've given head to. Not because I ever had a general aversion to it, but there have been times where I didn't think the guy was "worth it". I would never have a relationship with someone I didn't want to go down on. A few of the guys I've been with weren't even interested in getting head, but the relationship norm has been to have a mouth full of cock pretty regularly.

In my younger, less experienced, years I would read alot about "How to give an amazing blowjob" or "How to drive him crazy with your mouth" and blah blah blah. These articles are rarely helpful, but at the time I didn't know any better and read everything I could get my hands on. Being of a bookish nature I didn't read much Cosmo (I was more of a Sassy girl and later Jane), most of my information came from books I'd take out of the library or read in bookstores. I won't list them all, I'm sure you can imagine which ones.

So, I spent a long time "swirling", "butterfly lick"-ing, "flicking", "twisting" and a whole bunch of other ridiculously named moves. Worthless, really, all of them. All that tongue gymnastics is so not necessary, but it was a while before I realized that. All you need to know is flatten your tongue, take as much as you can comfortably, use your teeth judiciously (if at all), and suck, suck, suck. O! And breathe when you can, thru your nose and usually on the pull out.

My high school boyfriend, Tony, got a ton of head from me. We went thru a very long heavy petting phase before I was able to convince him to have sex with me. And, yes, you read that correctly, I had to talk him into it. I practiced on him constantly, my mouth was practically super glued to his dick. And I swallowed from the start, it seemed less messy to me than letting it shoot everywhere and then having to clean it up. As a consequence of this it was a long time before I saw a guy actually cum in person.

Swallowing or not seems to be a pretty big issue for people, but it never gave me too much trouble. If I was willing to give a guy head, but unwilling to swallow, I'd just give him head but not until he came. Problem solved. Once you learn the physical signs of a man's impending orgasm (thickening and lengthening) then you can keep him from getting too far along, and just switch to fucking.

For a while I considered using my hand/s, beyond ball cupping, would be "cheating". I felt I should be able to to get him off with solely my mouth. I've since changed my mind. I came to the conclusion that since I enjoy being simultaneously entered and licked, then I shouldn't have any qualms about doing the same for my lover. I've even recently added letting a thick stream of spit drop on M's cock as I stroke between active sucking. Having never been one for handjobs, I'd not done it before.

And now we come to deepthroating. This should only be attempted if you know your gag reflex well, or if the guy isn't particularly large. The ability to deepthroat is not necessary, in my opinion, to performing good head. However, should you be able to accomplish it, your guy is gonna be AMAZED. The easiest way to perform deepthroating is with your head over the edge of something (like the mattress), face up, and have a pillow to support your neck. This position allows your mouth and throat to become one long continuous tunnel. Deepthroat can be performed in other positions (you kneeling over him, you on your knees while he stands, etc.), but unless you're practiced at it it can be difficult to get the head of his cock past the back of your mouth and into your throat.

M enjoys my blowjobs. Actually, he loves them. He's not the first guy to tell me this, but he may be the most frequently, and most exuberantly, complimentary. He says I've ruined him for all other blowjobs, that they're the most amazing he's ever experienced. Now, I know, they're blowjobs, of course he's gonna like them, duh. And I've said as much to him on many occasions; stating that bj's are like pizza, and even when pizza is bad, it's still pretty good. He responded recently that it's like comparing Domino's to that one little old guy in NYC who makes his dough from scratch everyday whose pizza you have to order first thing in the morning in order to get one before the dough runs out. Apparently, I give artisan oral.

The only drawback, if one can call it that, is how friggn' turned on giving head makes me. I mean I get soaked from giving M head. He would literally need to do nothing else but let me suck his cock for me to be super charged ready to fuck. Especially when he grabs my head and pounds my face relentlessly. My goodness that just turns me to goo. Poor thing, it means he doesn't often get to have a blowjob finished off in my mouth.

O, he doesn't complain, and he knows I am more than willing to have him do it. But he also knows how incredibly aroused I get, and he's a considerate enough lover to not leave me in torment for however long his refractory period would be. Isn't he a sweetheart?

I think that maybe he deserves a reward for all that, don't you? ;)

Fuck Doll

2009-12-09T08:24:00.007-05:00

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

2009-12-08T10:45:00.005-05:00

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

2009-12-07T10:51:00.004-05:00

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

2009-12-03T10:01:00.002-05:00

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

2009-11-27T10:40:00.007-05:00

*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

2009-11-24T23:22:00.001-05:00

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

2009-11-11T10:53:00.002-05:00

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

2009-11-10T11:14:00.002-05:00

"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

2009-11-06T15:13:00.003-05:00

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...

2009-10-27T12:54:00.001-04:00

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

2009-10-18T10:18:00.006-04:00

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

2009-10-05T13:23:00.004-04:00

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

2009-09-24T10:09:00.004-04:00

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

2009-09-23T10:29:00.003-04:00

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

2009-09-16T11:27:00.003-04:00

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

2009-09-10T12:23:00.003-04:00

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! :)

2009-08-29T19:54:00.006-04:00

Yesterday I went to visit Mari at the hospital, and she had (apparently jokingly) requested that I get made up and dressed up for her. I took her seriously, tho I didn't wear the requested high heels, and spent a lot of time on my hair, makeup, and dress choice. I think I spent an hour just on my hair! Heh heh Mari appreciated it tho, and she gave me some very sweet compliments when I walked in. Not the least of which was when she told me that whenever I returned to the room from stepping out for a smoke that it struck her anew how pretty I was. She's such a doll. Thanks Mari, you looked beautiful, too! :)

So, due to my having been all dolled up to please Mari, I didn't have to do too much to myself for M's visit. I thought I'd do something little different for him and put on some lingerie. I chose a sheer net type lace black cami top with spaghetti straps with a deep v neckline, and a pair of bikini panties of the same material with a small chiffon ruffle/bow on the butt. Cute and sexy, and it had a 60's feel to it to match the hairstyle and makeup I had done earlier.

M was surprised to see my get up when he walked in. He gave me several long looks up and down ;he's rarely seen me in lingerie. He said I looked "sexy" in the outfit. He curled up next to me and slid his hand up and down my bare legs, settling his hand between my thighs nestled in my crotch. He continued with a bit more flattery and sweet talk, and I melted under his attentions.

I told M that I wanted him to fuck me 2 ways this visit. I asked him if he remembered last week when he said he wanted me to touch him all over, and how I had licked, nibbled, sucked, kissed, caressed, etc. When he said yes, I told him that I wanted that, too, and that I wanted to feel desired and wanted and cherished. He answered that I was desired and wanted, and that he would do that for me. I also told him that I wanted really nasty dirty fucking, too; with his tongue and cock in my ass. Needless to say, he smiling agreed to that, also. ;)

M was hungry and ordered a pizza. I believe it was me who said, that we should get a fuck in before the pizza arrived, suggesting that M should fuck my ass because we wouldn't have time to do the "sweet" sex before M had to run downstairs to pay the delivery guy. M, always enthusiastic to be in my ass, thought it was an excellent idea. Heh heh

M stroked my clit, already wet from our kissing, and unzipped his pants. He was kneeling beside me as I laid on my back, and I reached for his cock hungry as ever to have him in my mouth. I got up on my hands and knees as M slid off the bed, standing on the side with his cock straining towards my face. The head of his cock was shiny with my saliva and I popped in back into my mouth, moaning deep from my throat as I slurped away.

It turns me on I when I see a thread of spit clinging from my mouth to the tip of M's cock when I pull away, and sometimes I slip him out of my mouth just to get a quick glimpse of it. I've also recently developed a fascination in letting a thick stream of saliva drop from my mouth onto M's cock using it to lubricate my hand stroking his shaft. M's skin is a golden olive shade, and his cock is darker with a bit of purple to it when not aroused, or just becoming erect. But as his desire increases and his erection grows completely rigid, the head of his cock is red and engorged. It makes my mouth water to see it, and when he emerges from my mouth glistening and wet from pounding away at my face, it only makes me greedy for more.

When I'm blowing M I'm usually on my hands and knees as he kneels or stands in front of me. M loves this position because it gives him a view of my back, small waist, and round ass. I know when he's admiring the landscape of my body when I feel his hands run down my spine and give my ass a squeeze, or over the sides of my ribs and into the crack of my; slipping a finger into my cunt for a quick assurance of my wetness.

M disengaged me from his cock and turned me around to face the opposite direction. He nudged me with his hands to shuffle across the bed to make room for him to climb on, and then bent down to tongue my ass. I have never been very enthusiastic about having my ass licked. It didn't bother me, but it never drove me mad with desire either, but with M's hands gripping my ass, his fingers digging into my ass cheeks spreading them open, I wriggled and moaned with pleasure at his tongue's frenzied rimming and dipping into my asshole.

My reared up and wedged the head of his cock between my pussy lips. When he entered me I could feel every inch of him. I was so tight, or he was so thick, or both, that I was able to discern the ridge of the head of his cock separate from the shaft. The walls of my cunt were closed tight around him the pace of his thrusting was slowed, and when he pulled back from a deep thrust it felt like my cunt was reluctant to let him go. I felt as if my cunt was trying to suck him back in even has he was sliding out.

I heard M gasp and moan behind me, and I turned to look at him over my shoulder. His face was directly above my right shoulder and he kissed me deeply when I faced him. He was using one hand to balance himself and the other he used to pull my up to him, my back fitting snugly against his chest and stomach.

When he released me it was to empty my pussy of his cock and to press it against my asshole. I felt a glob of spit land in the crack of my ass just above my asshole and he used it to further lubricate my hole before stuffing me full of his meat once again.

For as easily as he slipped in my ass it still ached to have him in there. It's been a few weeks since he's had my ass, so some of his thrusts were quite painful. But I've been looking forward to some pain, and I always encourage M to fuck me hard and deep during anal. I could hear his moans and grunts of pleasure, and I felt him press down on me with his chest, flattening me to the mattress. He bent my right leg to have complete access to ram my ass. He placed his thumbs under either cheek spreading me wider, and wrapped his remaining fingers around the swell of my cheeks squeezing my flesh tightly using his tight grip to work my back and forth thrusting in as deep as possible.

My arms were curled up under my chest when I felt him reaching from behind me to clasp my wrists. M pulled my arms up and back and increased the speed and depth of his pounding. My grunting and whimpering became louder, and I wouldn't say I was a screamer, but as he accelerated to his orgasms, I began to scream. He was pulling my arms so far back that my chest lifted from off of the bed, and I could sense his back arching right before his orgasm. M came into my ass, pulsing and twitching, as he collapsed onto my back, gasping for air. When M got off the bed, he gave my broken foot a little kiss before going to the bathroom to wash off.

We cleaned up quickly and M said he was starving "just like clockwork," referring to how he and I may not be hungry before we fuck, but that right after we both become ravenous. Good thing for us the pizza arrived just then, and M went down to get it while I finished cleaning myself. We ate while trying to watch TV, but nothing of interest was on.

We chatted for a while, but our sexual thirst wasn't quenched. We fucked in one of my favorite positions, legs over his shoulders so he can get in so deep. His kisses, so deep. My groans, so deep. And he told me he wanted to cum in my mouth, and I had expressed to him earlier in the week that I want to be on my knees in front of him sucking his cock. He stood up, grabbed my hand, and a stack of floor pillows, and walked over to my full length mirror. He said he wanted to be able to watch me while i blew him. I have often tried to figure out a way to incorporate my mirror into our sex, but this was the first time we'd actually done it.

I enthusiastically, went down on him, not bothering to tease and tempt. I raised my arms and clung to him, giving him what I hoped was a clear profile of my breasts, stomach, hips, and ass. I took as much of him down my throat as I could, and I felt my juices soaking my thighs. My chin was slippery with spit, and I could feel how wet I had gotten his balls when I cupped them in my hand. The back of my throat was raw from repeatedly being pounding, but I barely felt it as he held my head in place and fucked my mouth brutally. M grunted loudly with each of the final thrust of his orgasm.

I lapped at him a few more times, but M is extremely sensitive directly after cumming so he can't take too much of that. He helped me up and took me by the hand to lay beside him back on my bed. He splayed out on his back contentedly exhausted. We chatted for a while more, but I wasn't done with him, yet.

The last time we fucked that night began with him in my cunt and ended with him in my ass. Even tho it was the third time, or maybe because of it, I think it was the wetest I got all evening. I was, again, flat on my belly, right leg bent and left leg straight, with M's cock ramming my asshole. I reached underneath myself and felt my juices smeared all over my groin, and my clit was bursting out from hood, hard and so sensitive. With the back of my hand pressed I could feel an enormous very wet spot on my sheet, and I thought to myself that I wanted M to feel all of this, too. I grabbed his hand from behind my and placed it on my pussy and began to play with my clit. He slid 1, then 2, fingers inside of me and increased the speed and force of his thrusting.

All I could say was "Fuck!" and "Oh god!" over and over. I clutched at my pillows and and M rested his head on my shoulder. He held my hips down on the bed and ground into me, pull out a bit, and then pounded me without restraint. His groaning when he came was the loudest they'd been all night. My ass throbbed from the onslaught, and I wiped the hair away from my damp face and smiled with a sigh. M kissed me as I continued to grin with pleasure and glowing pride at having satisfied M so thoroughly.

We fell asleep cuddled in each other's arms, completely sated.

The next morning I woke up early. M has an alarm that goes off at 7am and I thought I'd send him a little text message to find later on in the day. It was just a little compliment "You're so sexy", and I thought it would make him smile. I also called and left a voicemail to say "Pssst. You're so sexy and handsome." Heh heh. Everyone likes a compliment. ;) But he woke up when he heard the text message bell, and read it right then. Poop. :( But it did make him smile. :D

When he got back into bed from the bathroom, I asked him about his repeated visits to the online dating site. He was still tired, owing to the early hour, and I agreed to put it off until we woke up a bit later. I read some more of my book and went back to sleep with M.

Later that morning, nearly afternoon, when M woke up. I asked him what he wanted for breakfast and he chose a Greek omelet. I also made bacon and toast with homemade lemon curd. It surprises me that he's still surprised when I hand him plates of food. He always makes an appreciative little "Wow," when I place his food in front of him. It's very gratifying and flattering that I can still impress him with my cooking. :)

As we laid in bed I scratched M's back, something he enjoys very much, and we talked about the dating website, anal sex, and I chastised gently him for not appreciating how unique and special I am. I spoke of the desirable qualities I posses and how I don't utilize some of the more common and distasteful traits girls against guys, namely that I wasn't spiteful or vindictive, rarely petty, that I don't emotionally blackmail or act passive aggressively. I'm not perfect by any means, but I have so much to offer someone I care for, and I love M, and so few of the usual characteristics that guys complain about girls, and we have such a great time when we're together, that I don't understand why he wants to pursue other girls. What more could he want? What is the likelihood that he would get along with so well, have such great chemistry with, another girl and have her be as attractive, sexy, intelligent and fun?

He was curled into my side, my arms around him, and his head on my shoulder as I spoke to him about this. He reached up and cupped my cheek pulling my face down to his, and kissed me. His lips were soft and his tongue was gentle and tender. He kissed my bottom lip alone, as well as my nose and my forehead. He caressed the side of my neck with his fingertips, stroking from my shoulder to my jaw. He cupped my breast and ran his hand down my side, over my ribs to rest on my waist. M reached back up to my shoulder and rolled me onto my back.

Again with a featherlight touch he stroked me from my shoulder, down my stomach, over the tops of my thighs, and up the crease between my thighs. He was barely touching me with his fingertips, but my body quivered and my breathing quickened. My eyes were closed so I don't know where he was looking, but I felt his mouth on my ear when I heard him say "I'm getting ready to lick your pussy. You know that right?" and then he whispered, "I haven't fisted you in a while..." I swear I blushed.

And then M was between my legs. I felt shy to have him down there. He didn't allow me to close my legs, and I felt his fingers tickling the inside of my thighs stroking the crease of my crotch and lingering over my dripping cunt. When his tongue, so velvety thick and wet, slid over my clit I moaned and sunk deeper into the mattress. I had no problem keeping my legs open for him as he lapped and suck at my clit. His lips plucked at the sensitive bit of burning flesh and I ran my fingers thru his hair unable to articulate how good it felt.

1 thick finger, than 2, then 3 entered me. My hands clenched and released piles of sheet, and my breathing was ragged. I lifted my hips to his mouth and fingers as he worked more of his hand into me. His mouth continued kissing my clit and he twisted his hand to get more in with me gasping at the filling and extreme stretching I was submitting to.

I couldn't take his entire hand, but he had succeeded in arousing me to the point where I was wild to be fucked. He sat up and I pulled his cock to me as he placed the soles of my feet on his chest just below his collarbone. His hands held me behind the back of my knees firmly in place and he slid in and out of me slowly but deliberately. He kept an even rhythm and stroked my clit at the same rhythm with his thumb letting a stream of spit drop from his lips onto the hood of my clit to slick me up. I looked up at him whispering "My god you're gorgeous," panting and whimpering. I looked into his eyes and felt liquid fire wash over me. We rolled around, on our sides on my back, M leaning back to look at me.

M kissed me over and over, across my face and on my neck. He encircled my throat with his hand , but it was more of a hug than choking, quickly releasing me to kiss again. We looked into each other's eyes as he pumped into me, and I reached beneath my ass to take his balls in my hand for soft squeezes. I stroked his perineum , tickling along the ridge, telling M how much I loved to feel and lick this spot on him. I told him I wish he could cum in me, and he asked where I wanted him to cum. I told him I didn't care and he said he wanted me to squeeze his balls while he came in my mouth.

Some deep quick thrusts and M pulled out, shooting into my mouth and landing some drops on my chest and face. I licked what cum remained on the head of cock savoring the taste of him. He gathered the remaining puddles on his fingers and fed them to me. I sucked and licked at his fingers, smiling and nibbling to get it all. Then I received my after sex kiss and we snuggled basking in the afterglow. :)

I noticed M looking at my legs while I had my feet propped on his chest; I love when he "checks me out". I love when we lock eyes and then the sensations

Later we were talking and my hand drifted to his cock absentmindedly. I began to stroke him and he became erect under my touch. M rolled onto his side to face me and played with my clit. In that position I couldn't get a good angle to reach M's cock, but he was making me crazy aroused with his touch. I don't normally go in for 69, but I had to have him in my mouth, so I spun around and placed my pussy within licking distance of M as I became to suck his cock.

I went wild with him again going down on me, and I refused to let up on the blowjob I was giving him. My guttural moans kept in time with the bobbing of my head and M didn't let up on my clit, slipping a finger into me periodically.

When he rolled onto his back it was a bit easier for me to concentrate on pleasuring him, but by then I couldn't take it. I climbed on top of M and rode him hard. M is no longer as passive when I'm on top and it has become much more satisfying for me to be in that position. His thrusting up forces his cock further into me, and our bodies sync up so easily. I abandoned all reserve and I bucked and slammed my cunt down on M while he strained and lifted me, filling me to the hilt.

I kiss him and try to catch my breathe after I've cum. M asks me, "Did you?", and I murmur "Yes." He tells me to go to the side, and i climb off and lay back. He aims his cock into me and holds me spread by the back of my thighs. I reach for his balls again, and this time he doesn't take me sweetly. He fucks me hard and fast and hits my cervix like a jackhammer. I look up at him with pleading eyes as he hammers into my cunt, mewling like a kitten.

I prop myself up on my hands and lick at his lips and murmur that I want him to fuck me from behind and to put his finger in my ass. He thrusts a few more times and then I'm emptied and flipped into doggie style. M licks my asshole, and slides his cock into my cunt, and then a finger fills my ass. I clenched my eyes tight and my whole body shot thru with electricity. M eventually replaced his finger with his cock and came in my ass. I think that's the most anal we've ever had in one visit! Heh heh. :D

Later I asked him if he was surprised that I came right out and asked him to put his finger in my ass, and he asked me if I was surprised that he didn't say a word and just did it immediately. I don't think either of us should be surprised anymore about the desire for kinky activities or the other's willingness to participate in them. M told me that one of the things he likes about me is how he knows he could explore anything sexual he may be curious about with me and not have to worry about me being freaked out by a what he says.

I again asked him if he would write a post/letter as my birthday present. I think he'll do it, but I don't know that it will end up being posted here. That'll be up to him. It probably won't be kinky or erotic, tho I wouldn't mind if he included some of that sort of thing. I mainly want to hear his thoughts on the last year's events, and I want to know what his feelings are and how they've developed. We'll see how long it takes for him to do it. I might have to sit him down on my computer to actually get it done. Ha!

Happy Birthday to Me

2009-08-25T17:26:00.007-04:00

Last Friday I met with Mari, my girlfriend from the west coast who's here to get her sex reassignment surgery, and we had a great time. She's gorgeous and you'd probably not know she was born male if you didn't already know. She's into BDSM and was owned for a few months not too long ago, but it didn't work out. We have a slightly Domme/sub relationship, but it has more of a Big Sister/little sister feel to it.

We went to lunch at an Italian place close to the train station where I met her. I think it's a chain place, or maybe there's just a few other locations, but it's authentic, not like crappy Olive Garden or anywhere like that. We didn't have any cocktails, her because she was having her surgery in a couple days, and me because I'm on meds due to my broken foot. We laughed alot during lunch and chatted like old friends.

After lunch we went to visit the record label her band is signed to. It also happens to be the label M works for. We took the train and waited for one of the girls who works at the label to come pick us up. Mari forgot to introduce me to Betsy when we got into the car, so I introduced myself. I always feel a little weird when I have to do that, and neither Mari nor I made any explanation about who I was or what my relationship to Mari was.

When we got to the record company's location Betsy showed us around and introduced us to everyone. A few of the guys I had met before, introduced on the few occasions M has asked me to come out with him and his friends. When we got into the warehouse portion of the building, we stood around chatting with Betsy and M walked up to us. He walked over to me saying "Hi," and reaching out to touch my stomach. Then he leaned in and kissed me on the mouth.

I was surprised he touched me so intimately and kissed me in front of his co-workers and boss. Mari told me later that I was visibly surprised, but I have to say I was pleased also. I felt much better about being there knowing M wasn't uncomfortable with it. Betsy was surprised to see M kiss me, she probably didn't know M was seeing anyone, and she had no idea who I was aside from being there with Mari. I doubt M talks about me to his co-workers, and he probably never mentions that he's my boyfriend, or whatever it is our relationship would be called right now...

I sat down next to M at his desk for a while to put my injured foot up, and eventually it was decided that Gordon, the label manager, and Betsy would take Mari and I out for drinks. M and I usually are together on Friday nights, so I asked if he wanted to meet us at the bar/restaurant where we were going to be. M had to go home and shower first, so he said he'd meet us there. I walked him out, and he called me to him for a kiss before he left.

Mari, Betsy, Gordon and I were seated at a roomy table, and we chatted. The three of them started talking about death metal and grindcore (the music Mari plays and the genre of bands signed to the label), and I couldn't really participate in the conversation. I didn't feel left out, but I'm not knowledgeable enough to contribute to discussions on the topic. Mari talked about her upcoming surgery and her friends out west and in her band. It was very easy and comfortable, and Betsy and Gordon are really sweet and personable, not difficult to talk to at all.

I went out to have a cigarette, and that's when M showed up. We went in when I was done, and he ordered a beer. I had decided to have a few cocktails when we got there, but I was being careful not to overdue because of my meds. Conversation continued easily, just as it was all night, and at one point I told a really corny, slightly off color joke, that my Mom told me once. M knew the punchline, and by way of explanation for the joke's silliness, I confessed that my mom had told it to me, and that it was her favorite. M said that his mom had told him the same joke, and that it was her favorite, too. I thought it was an interesting coincidence.

M had his bike so the rest of the group dropped me off at the train station and M and I went back to my place. I asked him if he'd run to the store for me, and I went up to my apt. A little later M called to say that his card was rejected, and when he came back he looked up his bank account info to find all sorts of problems. He called the 800 number and got no help from the first guy he talked to, who ended up hanging up on him! The second person he talked to was more helpful, but there didn't seem to be anything anyone could do right then.

M was, understandably, upset. I had issues with my previous bank and eventually left because of it. I saw on the news recently that the banks are keeping themselves solvent, even profiting, from an increase in overdraft fee charges. So, I was upset for M, and pissed for him, but there wasn't much I could do except lend him $20 to cover some withdrawals, if necessary.

I had asked him if he'd still go to the store for me, but he wasn't in a hurry, and I didn't want to be insensitive to what he was going thru, so I ended up walking, more like limping, to the store myself. Actually, I didn't have the strength to go all the way to the store, so I went to the bar instead. It's more expensive, but I really didn't feel like hauling my ass all the way to 7-11. And during the few minutes I waited for change and fed the machine, I got hit on?! This guy comes up to me and starts chatting me up. I wasn't in the mood, so I didn't even bother to look up when he spoke to me. I told him I was just here to buy smokes, and he said I should come back and hang out.

On the way home I started to think about how much time M's been spending on the online dating site we met on. Lately, he's been visiting it 2 or 3 times a day, for a few hours at a time. He's on first thing in the morning, late at night, and at work. I started to think about how he can't find the time to text me or call me, yet finds time to visit this website. His status is "single" on the website. I got upset, very upset.

When I got to my apartment I undressed and washed my face. M was under the covers spread out in my bed. I wedged myself on the bit of bed that was free and opened my book to read. He asked me what was wrong, and I didn't want to upset him more and I didn't really know how to talk about it, so I said I was fine. He was curled up on my side and I was sitting up reading my book when he kissed my arm and asked me what was wrong again. I said that nothing was wrong.

I guess he thought I was angry with him for raging about the bank because he apologized for ranting about it. I told him I completely understood and that I was definitely not angry with him about that. I told him that under the circumstances I thought he was justified in his anger, and that I had behaved worse when dealing with my banks, as well as poor customer service, before.

He kissed my arm again, and I closed my book, rolling over to go to sleep. I started to tear up, but I didn't allow myself to cry. He wished me "Happy Birthday." M said to me that he wanted to make me feel good. I told M quietly how it upset me that he was on the dating site, and he said to me "You don't know how beautiful you are," and I rolled over to face him. His cock was hard, and he pressed it against my hip saying that I made him so hard. I said that I hadn't done anything, and that he wasn't hard from me. He said that I didn't need to touch him. He told me that when I came into the apartment from running to get the smokes, he watched me undress, and as I was standing in front of my dresser he thought to himself how perfect my body was. He said looking at my ass made him want to bend me over my chair and bury his face between my cheeks and lick my asshole. He said he wanted to kiss me, cupped my face in his hand, and asked "May I kiss you?" I said "I told you that you can do whatever you want to me."

He kissed me, and touched me. He told me he wanted me to touch him everywhere. And I did. I ran my fingers over his face, stroking his lips, his tongue, and his teeth. I licked his chest, sucking on his nipples. I traced kisses down his stomach, and nipped and licked the insides of his thighs and the crease of his groin. I ran my fingers up and down the inside of his legs, dragging my nails along the inside of his thighs. I sucked on his balls, flitting my tongue across and underneath towards his asshole. I entered his ass with my tongue and prodded gently, but didn't pierce him. I took his cock down my throat and jerked him off with my hand and used the other to touch his chest, pinch his nipples, and clutch his legs.

It was so easy to swallow him down. Easier than usual. And I thrust him all the way down over and over, past the back of my tongue into my throat. His balls were pressed against my chin and my nose was flattened against his abdomen. My breathe was cut off, but I continued, loving the taste and the smell of him, my lips grasping the base of his cock. I look up at him periodically because I know he likes when I do, but his eyes are closed or looking back or above him.

When I lift myself up from his cock, he rolls me onto my back, spreads my legs, and tells me to put him inside of me. M doesn't enter me when I place the head of his cock between my drenched pussy lips, instead his whispers against my moth that he wants me to beg for it. He tells me to say what a whore and slut I am, and to beg for him to fuck me. And I do. I plead for him to fuck me, telling him I need it. I say I want him to stuff me, to stretch me. He works himself into to me a bit at a time. When he's fully wedged inside of me I'm gasping for air, he's so thick and I'm so tight and hungry and wet, I am panting with pleasure.

He presses my legs back, being careful of my broken foot, and pounds me. He's completely buried in me, and I'm using the wall behind me as leverage to meet his thrusts. I'm propped up on my pillows, half sitting up, and it's a good position for me especially with my legs spread and pushed back, it angles my cunt to get the head of his cock hitting the spot that makes me cum, even ejaculate sometimes. It sends flames down my legs and across my chest. My clit throbs.

M cums across my belly, shooting puddles onto me. It seems sooner than he would usually allow himself to cum, he prefers to hold off normally, and has even gone so far as to stop me when I'm on top so he doesn't cum too soon. He feeds me his cum and I lick it from his fingers eagerly. I suck on his fingers suggestively, displaying my wantonness.

Later, I gave M a blowjob. I was trying to arouse him so I would be fucked again, but we ended up with him cumming in my mouth. I took him as deeply as before, and paid special attention to his balls and ass. I love the way his ass smells, and his asshole is so soft and slick. I put the little bullet vibrator into him, and varied the speed as I deep throat him repeatedly while cupping his balls. Every so often I'd use the wire connecting the vibe to the remote to move the bullet inside of him. I don't push it in deeper, I let lay just past his sphincter, nudged up against his prostate. M's never had the full strength of the vibe, but i did have it up a bit higher than I have before. He didn't say anything, or make much noise at all aside from clearing his throat a few time. He touched my clit briefly when I began to suck on himand then removed his hand. The next time I felt his hand was when he was about to cum, and he placed his hand to the back of my head close enough to keep me from being able to release his cock completely from my hungry mouth, yet far enough away to allow for me to continue to pump his cock with my throat. When he came he held my head down shooting down my throat as i swallowed every drop.

Laying back afterwards, we talked for a bit before sleeping. I told him I loved him, and he said he loved me too. I told him that I thought he didn't anymore. He said he did. I was surprised, and didn't know what to say beyond that. I hadn't told him with the expectation that he would say it back, I said it because that was what I was feeling.

I'm not sure how it came up, but M asked me if I thought he was "boring", or if I felt that our sex was "boring", or if I was "bored". I can't recall precisely how it was phrased. I told him I wasn't, that I have no complaints about what we do together. That I always have fun when we're together. I also reminded him that there have been times when I've asked for things, sexually, that he agreed to do, but then didn't do them.

The next morning I went ot the store to pick up some things. When he woke up I asked M what he wanted for breakfast and he chose french toast. I made him a breakfast in bed of french toast with bananas and chocolate and bacon. He watched some TV, the History channel his favorite :), and I read some more of my book. Eventually he placed my hand on his cock, signally he wanted to get frisky, and I kissed all over his body and suckled on his cock again. I climbed on top of him, knowing how much he loves that, and I bounced and ground my pussy on him. I love when he thrusts up when I'm on top, it's gets him so much deeper into me and him deep inside me drives me insane. Our rhythm was perfectly in sync and we I ended up sweaty and on my hands and knees with M's hands gripping my hips plowing into me until he came all over my back and ass.

We went to the store to get M some strings for his bass and his guitar, then the coffee shop for an iced coffee, and the little Mexican produce market that sells tamales on weekends. M was sweet to offer to get me some fruit, I've been craving fresh fruit since I broke my foot, and I said I'd just like some tomatoes. When we got back to my place we ate our tamales, and M watched a little more TV and I read a little more.

I had told M that I'd been fantasizing about giving him a blowjob on my knees with him standing above me. Maybe that got him a bit aroused because he kneeled up, naked, and pulled the covers down revealing my naked body. He put his hand between my thighs and began to rub my clit. He shuffled up close to my head, and I reached for his cock. Well, I can't touch his cock without putting it into my mouth, and I soon had him in my hot little mouth slurping away at his erection.

When I began to suck on him he removed his hand from between my thighs and I continued to work my mouth all over his cock, slipping down to nuzzle his balls. He gripped my cheek in one hand and cupped my chin in the other, slamming his cock down my throat. Between thrusts I moaned and caught my breathe as best as I could, and he would tease me by pulling out completely. Every time he emptied my mouth of his flesh I would lurch forward to gobble him back up, desperate to have him inside of me once more. He slid between my legs and fucked me until he came. It's amazing how wet I become from just sucking on his cock.

My body responds instantly to his touch. In fact, it doesn't even take me blowing M for me to get soaking wet, it can happen just from him kissing me. I am breathless from him licking my nipples. I melt seeing him bite his lip before he kisses me. I flush with pleasure when he holds my hand. I probably blushed when he kissed me at his job on Friday. He excites me as much as he ever has. Even after a year, I still ache for him. I still hunger for him.

A Turn of Events

2009-08-01T16:26:00.003-04:00

M did call last Monday. I hadn't expected it, but I was pleasently surprised, if a little unnerved, when we talked. I suppose he wanted to see me, too, because we ended up speaking to each other on the phone while appearing on our webcams. And my god was it good to see him. I wasn't as excited for him to see me, it was so hot that night and i was all sweaty, but looking at each other was reassuring in its own way.

Thursday night was bad. I had a bit of a breakdown. I think the strain just got to be too much for me. The not knowing. The depression. The loss. My having PMS. Just everything coming together in a perfect storm of misery and hopelessness.

By Friday afternoon I felt a bit better. I had resolved to just lay in bed watching bad TV. I thought to myself "Well, maybe M will call to chat before bed tonight. It's unlikely, but maybe. That would be nice." When I looked at my phone around 7pm to check the time, I saw that there was a text as well as a missed call from M, so I called him back.

We talked, and he wanted to come see each other. I straightened up my neglected apartment, and jumped in the shower. I shaved a bit, but I didn't give myself an enema or nair my bikini line as I would normally do, I didn't want to get my hopes up. He may not even want me to touch him, he had previously backed away from me when I had attempted to, and anyway I didn't want to get ahead of myself. It had been nearly a month since I'd seen him.

When he arrived he showed me his new bag. After going thru all of it's features, he seemed to realize he hadn't greeted me with a hug or anything, so he gripped me up in a big tight hug. It reassured me a bit that I at least wasn't going to have to worry about an occasional stray stroke. And it was nice to smell him and feel him again.

We ordered pizza, and watched Real Time on HBO ( I love Rachel Maddow!), and as we laid there watching TV, he pulled me in close beside him and had me lay my head on his shoulder as he stroked my hair. Just him reaching for me makes me melt, but when he strokes my hair I sink even further into relaxation and comfort. Still, I didn't completely allow myself to hope for too much more. I didn't dare.

When Real Time was over, I rolled on to my side, figuring we would chat some more. He took off his glasses, rolled over to face me, and nuzzled his face against my chest. His free hand came up behind my head and pulled my face down to his, and then he kissed me. And he tasted so good and his tongue filled my mouth, and it was velvety and soft, and aggresive and decisive. I didn't sense any caution in his kiss, but I was still unsure of what I should do. Nevertheless, I kissed back, with growing ardour.

His hand moved from behind my head down to my hip, and he kneaded my flesh, gripping me firmly. His knee nudged between my thighs and he pulled my leg over his hip so I was straddling him. By now our bodies were pressed tightly against each other, and the kisses were becoming more and more passionate. I don't know how to describe this all without it coming off as rushed, but even while it was happening I thought to myself how hungry we were for each other, but also that it didn't feel rushed or erratic. It was electric and exciting, but it wasn't frenzied. It was sensual.

M rolled me onto my back and settled between my legs. Kisses and kisses and more kisses. Kisses on my neck. Kisses on my collarbone. Kisses on my earlobe, and his breathe across my ear sending a thrilling shiver down my spine, making me moan out loud. And I noticed how hard I was breatheing. And we were grinding our bodies together like a couple of teenagers. That's when I realized I was already dripping wet.

We slipped off his shirt, and it was my chance to kiss along his collarbone and the tattoos I never thought I'd touch again. And his skin smelled amazing. And then my shirt came off, and he laid me back down and leaned back to look at me. He ran his hands from my shoulders down across my breasts, down my ribs and across my stomach. He leaned over me reaching for my breasts, grabbing them up in both hands, sucking on my already hard nipples.

My hands touched every exposed part of him. I dug my fingers into his shoulders, and ran my fingers up and down his back, cupping his pecs. Anywhere I could reach, anything I could grab a hold of, just to feel him.

He leaned back again, and his hands went to unbutton my jeans, and he pulled them off me. I wrapped my legs around him, but then my panties soon followed my jeans, and then his bottoms were off. Again he leaned back, and I felt his finger slide between my wet pussy lips, slipping up to my clit, then sliding back down. Up and down between my lips, and I quivered from the touch of his single finger.

He spread my thighs, wide, and he lightly kissed and licked the insides of my thighs. I felt that velvet tongue on my clit, lapping at me, and two fingers entering me. His free hand cupped my ass, and lifted me up to his mouth. I had fantasized earlier in the day about his mouth on my pussy, had been aching for it.

He climbed up from between my legs and I reached up to kiss him, licking my juices from his lips. I kissed my way down to his cock, and he moaned when I slid him into my mouth. I held his balls in my hand, and drew him deeper into my mouth. His hands were all over my body, and I couldn't take much more. I lifted my face up to him, and whispered,"Fuck me."

He pulled me on top of his lap and I wedged his cock inside of me, and slid down onto him. He remained sitting up, and I used his shoulders as leverage to work myself on top of him. Maybe because it had been nearly a month since I've fucked, or maybe because he was super hard and super thick, but I was completely stuffed. He had to keep stopping me from moving so he wouldn't cum too soon. I felt like I was going to burn up, and my cunt was involuntarily squeezing him inside of me even when I was trying to be still.

I felt none of the self conciousness I usually feel when I'm on top. I probably could have stayed up there the whole time, but I think it was too much for M. Either that or he just wanted to pound me. :D

He got me on my back, kissing my face and my neck. His hands closed around my throat and squeezed, cutting off my air. I think he got a bit distracted because I think I started to go unconcious. There was a flooding, crashing wave sound in my head. Everything was swirling, and I couldn't see. I didn't even realize it was happening until I was gasping for breathe, and I was confused where I was and what was happening. I said to M, "Wait a sec," as I caught my breathe and "came to". He cradled me close to his chest, and resumed sliding in and out of me gently, working his way back up to fucking me as hard as before.

M flipped me around onto my hands and knees and gathered my hair up into his hand as he reentered me. His left hand comes across my chest, first grabbing my breast, then clasping my right arm pressing my back against his chest. His forehead is on my left shoulder and we're both panting and moaning. I'm arching my back to get as much of him in me as possible, he lets me go and I seal my chest to the bed, grinding my ass against him like a cat in heat.

Once again he flips me onto my back, and hooks my knees over the crook of his elbows. I love this position because of how deeply he can penetrate me and the way the head of his cock butts up against that sensitive spot at the top in the back of my cunt. I have fistfuls of comforter in my hands, I'm practically hyperventilating. My head is swimming, and I can feel the wet spot growing under my ass.

Suddenly, M pulls out and brings his cock up to my face and shoves himself down my throat beginning to cum. He pulls out and jerks off into my open mouth, shuddering when my tongue wraps around the tip. I swallow everything, and we both sort of collapse his head at my feet, exhausted and gasping. I lift my head up a bit just as M does, and he reaches out for my hand to pull me to him. I get my after fuck kiss as I tuck myself into the cuddle M offers, the mingled scent of our bodies covers us like a perfume.

The sweat on our bodies hasn't even dried before M says to me, eyes closed and with a smile,"Give me a few minutes, I want to fuck you again." I giggle and snuggle in closer. It's not unusual for us to fuck multiple times in a night, but I admit I was happy to have the one time, and I was still trying to not expect too much. And I was especially pleased that he was already thinking about fucking me again.

I was smoking my after sex cigarette when I told him how my breasts were aching during the day, but that when he had grabbed them it hadn't hurt at all. I said I must have had a ton of endorphins coursing through my body. His hand creeps between my thighs and he says, "How would you like some more endorphins," and begins to pinch and toy with my clit. A bit of advice ladies, if you ever get the chance to be fingered by a bassist...take it!!! ;)

Well, of course that led to another bout of excellent fucking. And after that M took a catnap curled around me while I sat up smoking and watching the rerun of Real Time. He woke up and kissed my back, and I ran my nails across his back. M loves when I scratch his back, and he practically purrs when I do it. He murmurs that he wants to fuck again, and I have to say that really was a surprise to me. Another pleasant surprise.

So, M and I fucked again. Tho I think he was disappointed that I hadn't made my ass ready. I told him that I hadn't even been sure that he would let me touch him, nevermind fucking me, so I hadn't done much prep. I hadn't even put makeup on or done my hair, which I don't think has happened the entire time I have been with M. And I'm not even one of those girls that wears makeup every day, I wear it enough for work. But I always try to look my best for M.

After all that we were both spent. There was a little sleepy conversation before I turned out the light and rolled over to sleep. M pulled me into the curve of his body, throwing his leg over my hip. In the morning I woke up first, as is usual. He wakes up with a smile and I flatter myself that he's happy to be waking up in my bed with me. He edges over to me coaxing my arms around him. He draws me in to kiss him, but I say "No, I have morning pizza breathe. And cigarettes." He says, "My cock doesn't have a sense of smell," and I roll my eyes at him as he gives me that naughty grin of his.

We had sex once more before we run to WaWa for coffee, and M had leave early to meet up with his bandmates to travel to thier gig that night. I was pretty happy for the rest of the weekend, and I'm happy to have spent time with M. He wants to "take things slow" and I have mixed feelings about that. On the one hand it makes sense, and on the other hand it sounds like trying to walk the cat backwards.

I'm cautiosly optomistic at this point. M says he cares for me, and he says he doesn't want to be with other girls and that it just made things "complicated", and he doesn't want that. I'm inclined to agree about the desire for things to be drama free, I just hope that doesn't mean he's not taking this seriously. I guess I'll see what happens.

Monday, Monday

2009-07-27T06:33:00.002-04:00

I don't like Mondays, and it's not for the usual reason. It's not for the reason you hate Mondays. I don't have to get up to go to work today unless I want to. I don't have some ass fuck boss in my face when I work, I'm my own boss. Well, I do work for another Domme a few times a week maintaining the dungeon, but it's not strenuous at all, and I enjoy the company of my "boss". She's pretty laid back, and pretty understanding of my needs/moods. If I can't quite get myself to work on a day we have planned for me to be there, she's ok with it. It hasn't happened that often, but when it has occurred she's been completely cool with it.

So, I don't have anywhere to be, and even if I did have to work today, session or otherwise, it's not that taxing. What do I have to bitch about, right? Right. I still hate Mondays. I hate this Monday. And I hated last Monday. The Monday before that sucked, too.

Monday didn't always suck, until recently it was very nice, actually. It was a day to reflect for me. I'd think back on the Friday evening before, and the Saturday afternoon following, and smile to myself. I still smile now, savoring those moments.

I have no writings, save what I've managed to record in this blog, about what happens between M and I. Someone stole my communications, they're all gone. Deleted from my life, forever. My pictures of M were also deleted, tho not by my hand. I trusted someone, and I was thanked with betrayal, and spite. I let someone into my home, and I was fooled by their act, again.

Again, I have been lied to, and again I have had something stolen from me. And it was malicious, and it was hurtful, and it was done out of jealousy and pettiness. And I have been guilty of a bit of that recently myself, and I instantly felt ashamed of it. That doesn't excuse what I did, I apologized, but it doesn't make me feel better knowing I spoke in a fit of pique and resentment. I have friends who say it was a small thing to do, and that maybe I have a "right to a little bit of name calling," but I don't think it's my right to speak that way. It didn't make me feel any better to say what I did, it only makes me feel worse.

I don't like Mondays because I have nothing fun to write about...I could talk about my new friend Marissa, and how our burgeoning friendship is helping to distract me from my current pain. I could talk about my mentor, Renee, who is attempting to guide me thru what is a difficult path to traverse, and how she has been so accepting of my emotional outbursts. I could talk about how I have tried so hard to manage the pain and anger and deep sadness I have been feeling. I could try to explain what it is I'm feeling...But this blog isn't supposed to be about any of that.

I hate this Monday because I know M will read this today. I know he will see what I have poured out here, and he will not like it. He will not talk to me today, and I will not reach out to him either, tho I ache for him. I will leave him be, for his sanity, for him to gain clarity. I do not know what he is thinking, or if he is thinking of me at all.

Or, if he is thinking of me, what it is he is thinking of. Is he imagining me lying beside him, my arm across his chest, leg thrown over his thighs, my face nestled in the curve of his neck? Is he wishing I was sitting across the table from him while he eats a dinner I've made for him; telling him some outrageous story about my work, or some tidbit of trivia I picked up that week? Is he holding my hand in his imagination as we walk down my Main Street? Do I open the door for him, smelling like marshmallow perfume and fling my arms around his neck, and kiss him deeply?

Does he think of those things, or does he think of the fights? The anguish I tried to convey to him has probably left an indelible mark. The desperation I displayed (not my finest hour), and the loss of respect could have wiped away all the affection he may have had for me. Maybe I will be an old friend, whipped out every month or so to be a companion for a night. Maybe I will never touch him again, tho I can't imagine not reaching out for him if I were to see him again...Tho, I would try to restrain myself in his presence. I just don't know how I should be around him.

For the moment, it seems I don't need to know how to be around him, because I'm not around him. And he doesn't want to be around me, or that's what he says right now. Last weekend he wished he "could see [me] right now," and it thrilled me to hear that. And I had hoped that would mean that I would see him soon, but it wasn't to be.

And I understand why, and I respect his need for time apart, and I had already decided to give him that before he made it clear to me that that was what he needed/wanted. I don't know what will come of it. I just don't know.

But, today, I don't like Mondays.

I Don't Know

2009-06-10T08:38:00.002-04:00

I don't know what to do about M.

I have tried to tell him how much it hurts me to know that he hasn't stopped fucking his FWB, and how he has lied to me about ending their sexual contact. I have tried to tell him that when he says he will call me, as he did on Saturday, then doesn't, and doesn't the next day, or the next day, or the next day, that it drives me to think he doesn't care about how I feel. I have given him months to address the FWB issue, and I was grateful for any bit of attention he gave me. I thought when he invited me to see his band play, and introduced me to his friends and co-workers, that it meant he was taking me out of the closet, finally. But he didn't introduce me as his "girlfriend", just by my name.

Yet, he tells me he loves me. He says I seem to know him better than he knows himself. He says I'm considerate to him, remembering little things he says and then using the information to enrich his time with me. He's said he's thought about what it would be like if we lived together. He's said that I'm the best sex he's ever had. He's said he'll tell FWB about me, and that they need to stop having sex, that he chooses me.

I don't know what to believe. When I try to talk to him about the turmoil I feel, it ends up me talking and him staring into space with his brow furrowed and his jaw clenched, not saying a word. I do all the talking, while he tries to think of things to say that won't make me angrier or more hurt, but I guess he can't think of anything, because he barely says anything at all.

I wanted him to do things in his own time, because he wanted to do them. I want him to want to be with me more than he wants to be with FWB, but it seems like he's completely unwilling to hurt her by cutting her off, and absolutely willing to go on corrupting whatever relationship it is we have.

I have tried to be as honest with him as I am with myself. I have been faithful to him from the night I met him. I loved him months before I actually said the words. I have cooked for him. I have swallowed my feelings, at times, in order to have his time with me be pleasant and fun. I've ignored his lies. I have been supportive of all his endeavors, and sympathetic to all his disappointments. I have tried to love him wholly and completely, without reservation. I kept back some of the ugliest aspects of my life, not out of shame on my part, but to not burden him with the responsibility of that knowledge. I have tried to keep my "neediness" and "craziness" to a minimum.

Nothing I do or say seems to make any difference to him. To my knowledge he hasn't stopped seeing FWB, tho I haven't spoken to him about it since I said it's either her or me two weeks ago. It's day 5 of him not calling or seeing me, tho we did chat via yahoo a bit yesterday. I still can't visit him at his place, for fear that FWB will hear of it, and flip out on him, as if she has any right to be upset and I'm the one who has to keep her mouth shut stuffed away in the closet.

What am I supposed to do? End the relationship with the guy I love? Does it matter that I love him, when he seems to care so little for me? Does he love me? Will he stop seeing FWB, ever? Or will he continue to be with her thru all his subsequent relationships, and then end up spending the rest of his life tied to her? What does he want?

He's said a couple times that maybe he should take some time to be by himself. That he should take some time to get his life in order before he's with me. I know what that means. That means he's going to go back to being single, occasionally fucking FWB, and abandoning me with a broken heart and a trail of lies and betrayals. I don't know what it means that he could say he loves me, yet give me up so easily, just to save the feelings of someone who he says he doesn't want to be with anymore. I don't know what that says about what he thinks I'm worth.

2009-06-01T20:54:00.004-04:00

Ah, it's been tough and fabulous with M lately. It has been so difficult dealing with this FWB bullshit, but ironically (?), our sex has been PHENOMENAL. It is always good, very often awesome, but recently, it has been mind-blowingly fantastic. We look at each other afterwards in wonder, astounded that our sex, particularly since we've been together for almost a year now, is only getting better. I don't know why it has happened, but I'm not complaining.

Take, for example, last night. M is not much of a dirty talker. I love dirty talk during sex, and have prodded him with requests and sexy type questions while we fuck, to get him to talk a little. I didn't press it too hard or too often; I didn't want him to be distracted or feel too pressured to do anything that he was uncomfortable doing. But last night, he just went off ! He spoke to me nearly the entire time, keeping up a near constant stream of Dominant speech.

His actions were extremely Dominant as well. Before he even began to talk, he was making me submit physically. It surprised me, because he's usual more subtle, less physically aggressive with me. He has continued to take "baby steps" with our play, yet this seemed like one big leap for him.

I love anal sex. I have stated that on this blog before. However, I don't really enjoy fingers in my ass. I don't know why this is, it simply doesn't feel the same to me, and I just don't like it. Not even really a fan of rimming, either. M knows I don't enjoy it, but he does like it. And last night he wanted to put his fingers in my ass, so he did. And I squirmed, and tried to shift away, and I made little whiny noises. I would try to submit to it, and he slid his fingers over my clit, and into my cunt, but always one finger digging in and out of my asshole.

I kept writhing and trying to slide away, but he would smack my ass, and then I stayed in place...for a little while. And I felt myself sinking into subspace. He spanked me every time I tried to shift away, until I got more insistent with my resistance. I wanted to obey, but I also wanted to struggle, to make it stop. But I also didn't want to struggle too much, because I loved submitting to something I didn't like to please him, and I didn't want his concern with my pleasure to end up trumping the pleasure he was taking in doing what he wanted.

He didn't give up in his treatment of my ass despite my protesting. I wriggled too much for him, so he sat on my back to hold me in place. It was fucking glorious! I still wriggled a bit, but I couldn't shift around enough to extract his fingers. I tried to cross my legs, but he just opened them up again, and I was so subdued by that point I relented to whatever he wanted.

After he had had his fill of fingering my ass, he fucked me, but not before he made me beg for it. He'd never done that before. He laid on my back, stroking the head of his cock at the opening of my cunt, pressing in just enough to urge me on. I wanted to be creative in my begging, to show him how interesting I could be, to display how eager and hungry I was to have him in me. I wanted to give him a response that would turn him on more, and encourage him to talk like this to me again. I am sorry to say that I don't think I accomplished that high minded objective, but I did beg sincerely.

By this time I was so deeply into subspace I am thankful I was even able to speak at all. My hesitation in responding to the questions he posed or the prompts he gave were only due to my inability to articulate, and not because I was reluctant to answer or participate. M made me beg, made me say I was a whore for him. I tried to go beyond that and say I was his whore; that I belonged to him. I don't know that I did well being sexy; I have always found it difficult to remember and accurately portray what happens during subspace.

He fucked me from behind for a while, and then flipped me onto my back, pushed my legs up towards my chest by my thighs, and began to plow into me deeply. Oh. My. God. Fire spreading from my cunt across my body. I looked up at M, and he was staring into my eyes, and I felt like my whole body was flushed red with heat. He held my gaze, and pressed his cock all the way in, held it for a second or two, slid out a bit, then back in all the way. And it felt so good I begged him not to stop doing it. Over and over I said "Please, don't stop. Please don't stop. Please, don't stop," in rhythm with his thrusts. And I thought to myself, "My God, I hope I give him as much pleasure as he gives me," and as i threw my head back, I closed my eyes and let the sensations splash over me.

When he came, he came across my face and in my mouth. We both collapsed against my pillows, panting and amazed. I had his cum across my lips and I looked over at him and teased him by sticking my tongue out to lick at the thread of semen above my lip. He reached over and gathered up the thickest trails of cum and feed them to me, and I sucked at his fingers hungrily.

He loves to see how eager I am to eat his cum, and I think he's so fascinated and astounded by my enthusiasm that he doesn't even have a corresponding facial expression for it, aside from rapt fixation. Heh heh :)

Afterward we chatted. We chat about the sex we just had, about what we were like as teenagers, about the "art" we created while teenagers, about what he likes about me ( I make him "tire iron" hard... Heh heh), about current events...And it was so comfortable, and easy, and warm, and pleasant. He told me he likes when my hair looks like I've been recently fucked. If that's what he likes, then I must look hot to him very often beacuse I am never with my boy more than an hour before we are fucking. Heh heh. :D

So comfortable that I felt I could say to him, "If I tell you something will you promise not to freak out?"

He responded (and I LOVE that he said this because I totally expected it and would have said the same thing myself) "I can't promise I won't freak out, but I'll try." I told him I understood he couldn't promise, just to keep the trying in mind.

And I said, "Sometimes, sooometimes, I think about what it would be like if we lived together."

And my beautiful boy leaned down and rested his head on his cupped hand, so casually, and said "Why would I freak out about that? I've thought about it, too. Why do you think I asked you about how our cats would get along?"

And then we gave it a very tiny bit of discussion. My apartment is too small for us both to live in, especially with 3 kitties. We touched this common thought, then both quickly back peddled from it. I said, "I think about it, but I love my apartment." He said, "I have too much stuff to move in." And, always, the kitties.

And then, right on fucking cue, I ruined it. I fucked up the closeness. I destroyed M's feeling of connectedness with me. He had to leave, and I pouted. I pouted and acted too greedy. I am not sure if it was a bit of residual submissiveness ( I'm loathe to excuse it that simplistically), but I begged him to stay. I didn't want the fun/conversation to end. He said he didn't want the great conversation we were having to end either, but I acted like a spoiled child angling for more. Ugh!

I'm such an asshole. I have a talent for negating all good things. I'm such an asshole...

Missing You

2009-04-04T09:04:00.002-04:00

God, How I miss M during the week...

I'm spending alot of time working on all my Pro Domme stuff, and answering emails from clients and fielding their phone calls takes up alot of time during the week, but I still manage to ache for the sound of his voice. When I lay down to sleep at night I wish for him to be curled up next to me. I want the smell of his body clinging to my sheets.

A few weeks ago I discovered he hadn't stopped sleeping with the previously mentioned "fuck buddy". I think "fuck buddy" is a bit of a misnomer because they sound more like "friends with benefits". Anyway, his FWB and he never ceased fucking when M and I began to be exclusive. Actually, I've been exclusive with him from the night I met him, quite a departure from my recent lack of interest to commit. I just haven't been interested in anyone else, and I know the sex just wouldn't be worth it, I'd rather wait for the great sex I know I'll ave rather than waste time and energy on sex that will , doubtlessly be, less than stellar.

It was confusing and painful to learn that he continued to sleep with FWB. I knew "something" was going on, but I didn't want to not trust him when he said that he was only seeing me. Yes, he lied to me, several times. And I felt so foolish to have ignored my stomach and believe him, but I wanted to believe him. I wanted to think he only wanted me. I'm not entirely sure what I believe now, but I do know I still want him. I still love him, and I still want to be with him.

M still hasn't begun to pay more attention to me, tho he says he's not seen her since I found out. I don't have as difficult a time believing that he's not seen her, not because I think he is particularly faithful now, but that he would rather avoid confronting the situation with her than deal with it. I don't know how long that can go on, and I'm not even sure if when that changes he'd even tell me.

So many days will pass before he talks to me. An entire week will easily slip by before I get a phone call or text or email from him. And when I do hear from him, or receive my weekly visit, I don't want to waste the only time we do have together getting into some long drawn out discussion that could end with me in tears and him frustrated and feeling guilty. So, it's been working out pretty well for him. I just feel anxious about it. I hate not knowing what's going on, I hate not being informed. I hate being lied to, and I hate feeling like I'm not a priority.

Ah well, I'm writing this with him sleeping in my bed. One of my kitties is curled up between M's legs, while he softly snores. There's a warm gorgeous boy in my bed, that I should be cuddled up against, and I'm sitting at my computer complaining that I never get enough time with him...

Asking for Directions

2009-02-09T14:03:00.004-05:00

I lay on my back, legs crossed. M is curled around my side; his favorite position, the one he falls into the moment he gets his coat off. He kisses along my cheekbone, murmuring , his breath running along my cheek.

"How do you want me to fuck you?" he asks me.

I want you to slide your fingers down between my legs, and let your fingertips slip over my clit. Draw the hood back and send the flames licking down my thighs. I want you to whisper into my ear that I drive you crazy, that I'm so beautiful you can't stand it. Tell me you want me, that you dream of being inside me when we're apart. Slither on top of me and part my legs with your knees. Settle between my thighs and nudge my lips open with the head of your cock. Slowly enter me, pulling back once I'm pierced, then pushing back into me a little more. Make me catch my breathe while my body adjusts to your cock. Fill me all the way, easing up into me. Lick my mouth, and moan when your all the way in. Gather my face into your large hands, telling me how good I feel. Tell me how tight I am, tell me how wet I am. Kiss my neck, my collarbone, my breasts, my fingertips.

Cherish me. Make me feel beautiful.

...

He lays on his back, legs side by side. My leg is laying across his thigh, my lips trailing along his cheek to his neck. I nip at his ear and my hand is slowly stroking his cock.

"How do you want me to fuck you?" he asks me.

I want you to get on your knees, so your cock points towards me, thick and throbbing. Pull my face to you by my jaw and wedge your cock into my mouth. Let me get it slick with my spit and then fuck my face . Let your cock pop past the back of my throat and slam it all the way down. Smash my nose into your abdomen so my head is filled with your flesh and your scent. Don't hold back, I want to be used for your pleasure. When you tire of my mouth flip me onto my hands and knees, and smack my ass upright. Fill my cunt in one thrust, pay no attention to my whimpering. Grab my hair by the nape of my neck, and pull me back so I arch painfully. Growl in my ear that I'm a slut. Tell me I'm yours, you'll take me in whatever way pleases you. Toss me onto my back, holding both my wrists above my head in a single strong hand. Bury your cock into my soaked ass, and then enclose my throat with your other hand. Call me a whore, make me say I'm a whore. Tell me to say I'm your whore. Cum in me, marking me as your property.

Cherish me. Make me feel beautiful.

Don't Call It A Comeback...

2009-02-05T10:44:00.003-05:00

Okay, it's been a while. I haven't had too much to write about lately, so this is really just to let you all know I'm alive, and I have been trying to rack my brain for an interesting topic to discuss here.

I've begun to Pro Domme/switch again. I'm enjoying it alot. It seems to be the only real play, and service, I get to do. I still see M weekly, but that's about it. We get a few hours on Friday night, a few hours on Saturday morning, and then the rest of the week he's pretty much absent. I don't call him or text him anymore cause he's not very good about answering the phone or texting back. I've just given up on it. I just try to tell myself it's not because he doesn't like me, or want to be with me, he's just...busy.

I fantasize about M alot. Mostly when I lay down for a nap and when I go to sleep. Many times it's about our sex, of course, but just as often it's me conjuring up his image in my mind. Just his face, what his body looks like. I really enjoy looking at him when he's with me. Possibly because our time together is brief and infrequent, and I like to imagine what it would be like to have him around during mundane everyday type times. The last time we saw each other he told me that the good thing about not seeing me much is he forgets how hot I am, and he gets to be surprised by it all over again when I open the door. Sweet. I'd still like to see him more often, tho.

Last Friday I wasn't feeling well, I had an upset stomach. I told him that I still wanted to have sex, but that we'd have to be not as "energetic" as we normally are. He was accommodating about it, and didn't seem put out at all. It felt really good, actually. He got just as deep, filling me up as he always does, and just as stretching, maybe even a bit more than usual, just slower and not as jostled. He kissed me alot, on my neck, slowly, and across my lips tenderly. I held him close to me, running my hands down his back, resting on his hips, squeezing his adorable bum. M held my face in his hands and curled his fingers over my cheek, and looked into my eyes. I felt completely caressed, and I think he told me I was beautiful. And I felt beautiful, I felt so warm, and desired and desirable. He peppered my collarbone and breasts with kisses, ran his fingertips down my side and across my belly...

I hooked one leg around his waist, and the other I wrapped around his leg. I slid my hands to the back of his neck and buried my fingers into his curls. I kissed his mouth over and over, and fought the urge to close my eyes, because he was so beautiful I didn't want to lose any moment or expression. Burying my face into the crook of his neck, I had the smell of his body flood my head, and I licked at the iridescent almond saltiness of his skin. All the while he kept up a hypnotic rhythm of deep, even paced thrusting. He pulled me tighter as he built to his orgasm, quickening and pushing harder into me. And when he pulled out, I cupped his balls, soaked in my wetness, and looked into his fierce, furrowed browed eyes as he shot come from my hip to my chest.

He always kisses me after he comes. Always. Even before he catches his breathe, he leans down, huffing, and pecks me tenderly a few times, before collapsing to catch his breathe. Even when he comes on my face, he dips his fingers in feeding it to me, and when it's all swallowed, kisses me. Even when I blow him, as soon as he's come, his first action is to draw me up to him by my underarms for a kiss. I'm the one who has to pull away for a second to ensure I've wiped the extraneous saliva away first, and the moment I'm dried, he kisses me, smiles a delightfully satisfied smile, and pulls me into a deep cuddle.

I can't wait to be in that snuggle spot again. He likes the way I feel against him, and he's happy that I enjoy his cuddling. I had become unused to it, having either not been with a "cuddler", and been with an "over-cuddler" in a manner that felt suffocating, for years. I ache to be in M's arms again, and have not grown even remotely bored with it. I want it. I want it right now.

Nothing...

2009-01-09T11:19:00.002-05:00

I got nuthn' folks. Nuthn'.

I can't write when I'm like this.

I don't feel sexy. I don't feel attractive. I don't feel desirable.

That does not bode well as far as entries go for a "sex blog".

I'm sorry.

Poetic Justice

2008-12-24T21:39:00.002-05:00

So, ironically, I've been watching , on YouTube, talks, speeches, and appearances of Hitchens all day. And it would only be appropriate that my whole hearted embracing of atheism should come back and bite me on the ass on this of all nights.

It would be laughable if it wasn't so fucking painful.

I woke up today not wanting to attend the festivities. Or, rather, in conflict about it. The same conflict I feel every fucking year. I am a loser, and the annual familial confession of that fact is not something I look forward to. At the same time I know my family wants to see me, and don't give a shit that I am confused or unsure about my way in the world. They don't care that I am making missteps all over the place. They love me already, they've settled on that, and there are very few things I could do that would dissuade them from that notion.

They don't look on me with pity. They never ask when I'm gonna get married. There's no pressure to propagate the family name. They don't purposefully or inadvertently insult me. They respect my opinion and validate my emotions. They are genuinely happy to see me, and as much as I fear their repudiation, it's never happened.

I woke up today lamenting having to attend, and find myself disappointed that I am forced to be left out.

Bah Humbug

2008-12-24T20:48:00.005-05:00

I'm doing a little experiment tonight. I'll be doing multiple posts throughout the evening as I get more and more drunk. I'm going to post what comes to mind as it comes to mind, because I have nothing else to fucking do.

Normally this night would be spent in the presence of my family. Traditionally I'd be celebrating the Feast of the Seven Fishes with my loved ones, but this year I have no way to get to the open house my aunt holds annually. The free booze, unconditional love, and copious amounts of seafood I've become accustomed to consuming on this night are unavailable this year. My sister, who I had planned on hitching a ride with, has decided she isn't attending, therefore forcing me to also opt out.

So, I will spend this evening getting ever more wasted on vodka cocktails and blogging. I have a few ideas about subjects for my drunken rambles, and we'll just see how it goes. My typing, even when sober, leaves much to be desired, but seeing how this is an "experiment" the results could be worthwhile no matter what they reveal.

Anyway, I don't expect this to be of interest to anyone but myself, and I am curious to see what I end up with in the blindingly sober light of morning...

Shitlist

2008-12-03T13:54:00.004-05:00

So, I have had a run of getting shit on by some guys in my life. Other than M, they've been coming out of the woodwork to tell me what a crap person I am. And I'm so sick of it.

I sorta posted about this before in July. At the time Ry was giving me a hard time, so I stopped talking to him for a while. I started back up talking to him recently, I guess the passage of time had erased the memory of his arrogance. But he soon reminded me, and I've since decided that I really can't have "friends" like that anymore. I think he believes he's being funny when he talks shit about my job, relationships, and life choices, but really he's just being an asshole. He said I should get in contact with him if "the old Laani comes back," and I thought to myself,"O? You mean the 19 year old who let you fuck her while you stuck your cock into anything you could get your hands on? Yeah, she ain't coming back."

There have been others, some worse, some more sympathetic, and I'm just bored with it. Bored with taking people's feelings into consideration when they don't care about mine. Bored with holding my tongue. Bored with walking on eggshells. Bored with people telling me whats wrong with me. Bored with unproductive critique. Bored with overblown ego and self-important bullshit.

I'm over it, I'm so over it.

So Much More

2008-12-02T16:30:00.007-05:00

** see footnote

He says, "God, you're gorgeous."

I was laying on my back with M above me. My bedside lamp cast a flattering glow as we spoke in low tones to each other. I was scrubbed squeaky clean from the day's greasy work. I felt so warm and comfy to have him with me again, and I marveled at how beautiful he is. I'm as loathe to call a man "beautiful" as much as I'm loathe to call a woman "handsome"; both descriptions have the potential to insult. But I'm just gonna say it...He's beautiful.

He's told me, "I love your freckles."

In the summer our skin is almost exactly the same color, but I will soon develop my winter coat and become a pale peach once again. He has freckles across his nose that are faint, and one very deliberately placed on his left eyelid, as well as a patch on his left shoulder blade and a waterfall running down his leg. He has some sprinkled in more intimate places, but the one on his eyelid is my favorite. I kiss it frequently and with relish. In my opinion eyelids are made for kisses to begin with, and his freckle gives me a focus to cherish. I have an urge to name it...maybe Stanley...

He said, "I love the shape of your mouth."

M's mouth I've mentioned before. His lips are luscious, pink, smooth, devoid of blemish or imperfection. His mouth mesmerizes me. Sometimes I drift into a daydream when he speaks to me because I can't take my eyes off of his mouth. And when he smiles his broad open smile, or throws his head back and lets out his unselfconscious laugh, his brilliant teeth flash. Even first thing in the morning his breathe isn't bad. How the fuck does he do that?!!

He tells me, "Your hair looks so pretty down and wavy like that."

His hair is black, not dark brown, but black. And inspires all those hyperbolic descriptions you've read about black hair. It curls into locks that i wrap around my index finger and toy with. It's smooth and glints. It's thick and probably longer than it seems due to the curl. He jokes about having an ironic mullet, but short of shaving it off, I don't care what he does with it. I don't think I'd find him less attractive if he shaved it, but it would just break my heart to not have those sparkling curlie ques to gaze at and play with.

He compliments me, "You have a beautiful, long neck."

He's letting his beard grow in. I was fortunate enough to be spared the scratchy growing in period, and have become the beneficiary of the silky tickling stage. It's a full beard that he doesn't know how long he'll be able to tolerate. It suits him, and oddly doesn't detract from any of his boyishness. I hope he decides to keep it awhile, it holds a novel appeal for me and looks so good on him.

He confesses, "I love when you touch my body."

He has very smooth skin, particularly for a boy. He's tattooed his body with 2 swallows on either side of his chest, just above his collarbone; a red nautical star between the birds; an open zippo lighter on the inside of his left elbow, and the emblem of his former band wrapping from the outside around above and below his left elbow meeting behind the zippo. He shaves his chest pretty frequently, mistakenly thinking he's excessively hairy. Thankfully, he doesn't go overboard, and I can still revel in his undeniable maleness.

He admires, "You have such pretty hands."

M has large, strong hands. He has wide palms that encase my neck. He can cup my entire breast and ass cheek, and I love when he does that. When he curls his fingers around my waist, gripping my hip bone, I melt into the feeling of complete immobility. His fingers almost meet when he encircles my calves, spreading my legs wide as he drills into me. In spite of their size, he's the only guy who's ever gotten as much of his hand in me while fisting. I adore his fingers on my clit, or nipples, or deep inside stroking my g-spot. And when he dips his fingers into the cum he splashes across my body and feeds it to me, I feel like we're performing the end card at the finish of a silent movie. The perfect ending.

** in case anyone was wondering about the integration of music, I intend it to be listened to while you read the post.

Waiting For The Miracle

2008-12-01T13:03:00.003-05:00

When I wait for M to arrive I'm usually really antsy. I'm excited, impatient, nervous, and when I'm waiting for him to pick me up from work, irritated also. Not irritated with him, irritated that I have yet to figure out a way to prep for a visit directly following work so that I look pretty and presentable. It's an odd mix of dread at not being attractive and longing for him to appear.

This visit I had about an hour wait at my job before M picked me up. I normally hate the music at work, so I popped my iPod in, and Leonard Cohen's "Waiting for the Miracle" came up on shuffle. It was soothing and, I felt, preternaturally appropriate, so I replayed it over and over as I waited. I closed my eyes and let the words and music lull me.

While I sat there, listening, I thought about how I am always so anxious when I'm about to see M. And how I look forward to the times when we'll be together, and how I hate when we have to part. And I thought to myself that I should be more thankful to have this time before to be able to devote my thoughts to him. I thought, "This is the best part, because the time with him is a blur you will struggle to remember. Your pleasure with him clouds your memories of it later, and when he leaves you you will have so long before you will see him again. You only have a few more minutes before he will be with you and you need to savor the waiting that is short, because the waiting that will happen after will be much, much worse."

It helped to realize that, to have that conversation with myself. Along with the music I was able to decompress from work, and when he arrived I was very happy to see him. The beginning was bittersweet, for reasons other than waiting. When we got back to my place we showered and then cuddled in bed. We fell asleep much earlier than usual, and the next day he dropped me off at work.

And then the waiting begins again...

I Took A Leap In Summer

2008-11-17T19:49:00.006-05:00

I took a leap in Summer
With evening as my cover.
I jumped into a moonlit bed,
And then I had a lover.

I flew into the open arms
Of unknown passion blind.
I explored his body greedily
Impatient for all I'd find.

I surrendered breathless kisses
And sighs into the air.
I opened to piercing flesh on flesh
And lay myself out bare.

I ran to have a living dream,
So failed to hear the call.
I took a leap in Summer,
But I fell in Fall.

Never Enough

2008-11-05T20:37:00.002-05:00

Have you ever fucked someone over and over, and it just wasn't enough? Have you ever enjoyed someone's touch so much that it only makes you hunger for it more? Ever try to go about your day and be unable to keep flashes of their body, their breathing, their feel from your mind?

I find myself insatiable when it comes to sex with M. One kiss isn't enough, bout after bout of intercourse just makes me want him inside me again. Imagining the things he's done to me make me relive the sensations I felt when they happened. I get wet and my clit tingles at the most inappropriate times. At work today, while on break, I had to resist the urge to play with myself!

Friday night he was fucking me from behind, my ass raised, legs spread wide to allow as much of him into me as possible. It was hurting so deliciously, it was making me blind with with pleasure. He slowed and I heard a soft rumpling coming from behind, and all of a sudden my pillowcase hooded my head. M pulled it tight across my face and resumed fucking me, but even harder. The roughness, the aggression, the loss of sight, the loss of me was so erotic. It's been running through my mind for days...

M knew that I was excited about the election yesterday, and I had asked him if he'd come over after band practice to watch the returns with me. We hadn't spoken of it since I'd asked, so I'd thought he'd forgotten, but at 7 pm yesterday, when he would've been on his way to practice, he called me and said he wanted to come watch the results. I was overjoyed that he would spend such an important event with me, and I said I'd love for him to come over.

He was a little tired, so he cat napped in my lap while I watched the coverage. He looks so handsome when he sleeps, and I stroked his curls while he dozed. He woke up from time to time, checking on the progress of the polls, and I was getting more and more excited with each state. When the announcement was made I literally jumped for joy, clapping my hands like a child. I kissed M over and over, and I was so happy he was here to share that with me.

I had been extremely horny all day, and if the election hadn't been of such importance I do not think I would've been able to wait as long as I did to fuck M. He was so hard when I put my hand on him, I couldn't wait to have him. It's a bit of a blur, by the time I was naked with him I was on fire to fuck. I rode him and he filled me so deeply it took my breathe away. He fucked my ass on my back and choked me, filling me with his cum. Christ, I love that...

I love the intensity of his face when he's fucking me. The fierceness is intimidating, and it makes me feel soft and so very female. His dark eyes focus on me filled with desire. Watching his face contort as he orgasms gives me a feeling I can't adequately describe. It makes me feel powerful and subdued at the same time. And I love cradling him in my arms as he comes out of the daze of pleasure. The weight of his body comforts me, and I think that's when I feel closest to him.

He woke up early to go to work this morning, and I was groggy from sleep as he dressed. He kissed me, and I curled around him as he put his shoes on. He took my face in his hands and kissed me over and over, and I asked if I would see him Friday. He said yes, and I received more kisses before he walked to the door. I blew him a kiss as he closed the door, and snuggled back into my still warm bed smiling and dreaming of having him back in my arms.

GGG

2008-11-03T10:17:00.002-05:00

Dan Savage and his readers often use the abbreviation GGG. In his March 1, 2007 column, Savage summarized: "GGG stands for 'good, giving, and game,' which is what we should all strive to be for our sex partners. Think 'good in bed,' 'giving equal time and equal pleasure,' and 'game for anything—within reason.'"
-From the Wikipedia page on "Savage Love"

I think it goes without saying that I'm GGG, and I think you can all infer that M is very GGG, also. Sex is an important part of any relationship that involves it, for me anyway. I can't stay with someone with whom I'm having bad sex. That is not an issue with M, it's "amazing", to quote him, and I agree wholeheartedly. In fact, for me, it's only getting better.

This attribute, being GGG, has the effect of making me a secret keeper. I don't really have secrets personally, not many anyway, and I can't think of any I have about my sexual proclivities. Other people tell me their secrets all the time. I can't tell you how many people have told me something they "never told anyone" or that "no one else knows". People feel like they can tell me things because I won't judge, even if it's pretty bad, and that I will not tell anyone else, even if I get angry with them.

Even though I'm GGG, I still find it hard to ask for things during sex. For some reason it's difficult for me to say "Please grab my breast hard," or "Put your fingers inside of me." I can usually get a "Harder!" or a "Deeper!" out, but that's about the most I can do comfortably. I don't know that it's my submissive nature that makes me not want to give direction, or if it's an uncharacteristic sexual shyness. Either way, it's an obstacle.

M sometimes asks me how I want him to fuck me. It makes me so nervous when he says that. I already have a difficult time verbalizing what I want, but to be asked so directly gets me thinking that I might give the wrong answer. If I said that to M, he would say that there was no wrong answer. That he wants to please me, and that he wants to get better and better, and that he gets off on getting me off. See? GGG. I lucked out this last visit because when he asked, and I couldn't bring myself to answer, he ended up doing precisely what I wanted, but was unable to ask for.

M was taking me from behind, and I remembered what he said about wanting me to finger my ass for him. I hadn't done it yet, and he didn't want to have to tell me to do it. So, I wet 2 fingers on my right hand and reached behind. I slid my hand between us and slowly entered my ass with 1, then 2, fingers. I could sense his ardor increase as he realized what I had done, and he pounded me harder.

I could feel his cock sliding in and out of my cunt thru the flesh separating him from my ass. I pressed down on the shaft of his cock, trying to emphasize that my fingers were inside of myself at the same time he was. I noticed how smooth the inside of my ass was, no ridges or nooks like the inside of my cunt. I loved feeling him moving inside of me with my fingertips. The novelty of that sensation hasn't worn off.

After a while he removed my hand, replaced it with his cock, and began to fuck my ass. For a few minutes we did it doggie style, but eventually he slid out to flip me onto my back. I had said to him earlier in the week that I thought he should fuck my ass with me on my back more, since I have difficulty having him thrusting deeply in that position. I don't know if he was remembering me suggesting it, his reply at the time was that we'd have to work on it, and no time like the present.

M had me hold my legs up and out of the way for him as he re-entered my ass. He leaned forward and kissed me, sliding in and out until he was all the way in. When he sat back and continued, fucking me harder, I spread my legs wider to get as much as I could. That's when he filled my cunt with a finger too, fulfilling my unspoken desire.

M has large hands, and with his cock in my ass, 1 finger was enough to fill me up. It drove me crazy to be doubly penetrated. I stole a glance down, and the visual of him piercing both of my holes simultaneously made me clamp down on both his cock and finger. I reached down to play with my clit, something I rarely do without direct instruction. I hoped it would increase his passion and send me into sensation overload. I wanted everything all at once.

I tensed, and squeezed, and felt my cunt convulsing. My clit burned and I could hardly breathed as I came. I begged him to fuck me deeper as I removed my hands from my clit. He emptied my cunt of his fingers and leaned forward a bit on his hands, hovering just above me. His eyebrows were knit together, and I could tell he was close to orgasm. He was moving faster and deeper inside of me, abandoning the caution he usually takes when he's in my ass.

"Choke me," I breathed, hoping it was loud enough for him to hear. And instantly his hand clamped my throat. He was already on the verge of cumming, and when he squeezed my throat, and with me holding his gaze, he came as hard as I've ever seen him.

He thrust 3 or 4 more times as far in as he could go, and I could feel his cock spasming in me as he collapsed on top of my chest. I brought my hands up around him, one cradling his head to my chest, the other wrapped around his back. His cock, still buried inside of me, continued to twitch, and it took longer than usual for his moans to cease. I held him as his breathing slowly returned to normal, and it was a while before he could speak.

I think we went beyond our normal spectacular sex, as it seemed to take longer for us to recover than usual. For once, I can't really remember what we said to each other. I'm sure it was complimentary to each other, mixed with pleased astonishment. I didn't tell him that I had wanted him to enter my cunt while he was in my ass, but if he couldn't have deduced my enjoyment of it then, he'll know now how much I craved it and love that he's done it.

And so it goes when two GGG's get together. It's a comfort to know that I won't get a quizzical look when I can express my desires. And I won't hear a freaked out voice if I decide to stick 2 fingers in my ass unexpectedly. It is a relief to know that my kinks increase his desire, and curiosity, for adventurous sex. I can only hope that we can continue to expand the breadth of our experiences together, in all ways.

Don't Speak

2008-11-02T12:35:00.008-05:00

"Tell me something I don't know," I say. It's a sort of game we'd been playing this visit. I started it, and then he'd ask me. I've been popping it out whenever there's a lull in our conversation. Sometimes it's a goofy answer, sometimes it's something pertinent.

"Hmmmmm. I was chatting online with my ex-girlfriend, the German one, I guess a couple of months ago now. We don't talk much, just when there's a reason to usually. Anyway, she said she would still fuck me, and I said ' Yeah, I don't think that would be a really good idea.' And then she said, 'O! We wouldn't have to talk to each other afterwards.'"

And we both chuckled knowingly.

"But, I already have a person that I sometimes hook up with."

And I knew this; that there was a fuck buddy. I knew there was someone in the ether, a person who gave him pleasure. I knew there was someone other than me. I think I can recall him saying I was better, that fucking me was better.

"When was the last time you fucked?"

And I level my eyes on him. I do not shirk. Courage is what you have in the face of fear, not instead of fear. And, yes, my body hummed with tension. And, yes, my heart raced. And, yes, my mouth was dry. And I think to myself, "Please say 3 months ago. Even better, say 4 months. I can live with 2 months, 2 months would be ok."

"Ummmm, about 2 weeks, a week and a half ago?"

Drop. Sink. Cold. And I feel empty and swollen at the same time. I become consumed with envy and self-loathing. Envy for a nameless, faceless person. Self-loathing because I'm not good enough.

I don't say anything, but he sees it. My face is a stone mask, but he sees the change. He feels the shift. I feel exposed, and I turn my head away. He makes some chit chat about my sneakers, and I'm not terribly responsive. I say I'm ready to leave the restaurant. I wrap my arms around myself, and he reaches out to stroke my side as we walk to the car.

He's uncomfortable, and I feel sorry for him. It's not fair to subject him to my disappointment. He doesn't deserve for me to be upset just for being honest. I asked, after all, and I'm thankful he told me the truth. I don't want to delude myself into thinking that he feels things for me he doesn't.

We drive away, and he continues chatting. I try to participate, but I'm doing a really shitty job of it. I laugh half-heartedly when I'm supposed to, offer directions when he needs to make a turn, answer his direct questions, and stare out of the window. My mind is somewhere else, but I can feel him run his fingers along the side of my leg. And when he places his hand on the top of my thigh, his fingers curling over the curve, the warmth of his palm makes my heart ache.

When we get to my apartment, he tells me he had a good time, and smiles at me. I smile back, and say I had a good time, too. And I mean it, I always have a spectacular time with him.

"See ya," I chirp, insincerely cheerful. With a close lipped smile I turn away, and step out of the car.

"Hey," I hear from the car before I close the door.

"What?" I ask turning back, hand on the door.

"Can I have a kiss?" M asks quietly. So quietly I can't recall if he's said "May I?" or "Please?", but I know he's asked me to kiss him goodbye.

I duck my head back into the car, and I lean in with my eyes closed. I don't look, I just present my face. And I'm thinking, "I'm so ugly, why does he want to kiss me?" I want this kiss more than anything. I war with myself about if it's what I should do, but I know for sure it's what I want.

He brings his perfect mouth to my lips. And he kisses me softly, maybe hesitantly. His tongue slips between his beautiful lips, and runs along the crease of my mouth. I part my lips slowly, and I try to let it reassure me. I try to let his kiss tell me he wants me, let it tell me that he doesn't want me to go away. I feel his hand come up to my throat, and he places it there firmly without squeezing. I stop myself before the sigh escapes.

I don't remember how the kiss ended, I know I didn't want it to, but that it had to at some point. As I again turned away to leave, I let his "Talk to you later," go unanswered before I closed the door and walked away.

I didn't say anything, because I didn't know what to say. I still don't know what to say, or think for that matter. Except, today was the first time I had to correct someone when they referred to M as my boyfriend.

Eavesdropping

2008-10-30T10:05:00.005-04:00

"I can tell when you're in that space now."

"Yeah? How can you tell ?"

"You can't look me in the eyes, and your voice goes soft. Like a little girl's. And I can have anything I want from you when you're like that."

"Oh."

....

"I'm going to make you finger your ass for me again, but you're going to get at least 3 fingers in this time. You will do that for me, won't you, pet?"

"Oh my...Now I'm all scared and anxious..."

"As long as you're obedient. That's all I'm concerned with. I'm looking forward to your performance."

"I don't want to let you down. I'll try..."

"You'll please me one way or another, even if I have to take what I want. But if you make me take what I want, I won't be very nice. Here's what I want you to do come Friday: I want you to play with your cunt and make yourself cum, then I want you to finger your ass for me. Are you telling me that those are unreasonable requests?"

"No, I will do that for you."

"Good girl. I knew you wouldn't disappoint me."

.....

"I'm feeling so fucking unattractive right now."

"My beautiful little pet... you could never not be attractive to me. I wish you could see yourself how I see you."

Isn't it Romantic

2008-10-28T11:32:00.008-04:00

I am inclined to say I don't like "romance". Long walks on the beach, candlelight dinners, red roses, etc. seem to be the universally agreed upon romantic gestures. The sort of things you see in a chick flick rom-com, the types of things girls are supposed to want. Those things seem really contrived to me, not romantic at all.

It might be more honest to say, not that I don't like romance, but that I don't like insincerity. I don't like operating under illusions, and romance seems like a lie to me. I have an active imagination and a rich fantasy life, and as much as I'd like to have my hopes and dreams fulfilled, I don't expect it. It's getting to the point where I'm not even disappointed anymore. It just is.

When I saw M last week, I was in a real funk. I nearly cancelled our visit. Instead, I told him that I would leave my keys in my mailbox, and that I would like if he was there when I got home from work. I said I just wanted to take a shower and then crawl into bed with a beautiful boy. He said he would be there, and he was.

That's romantic.

When I got home that night I was relieved to see M sitting on my bed. I looked like shit, and I felt like shit. I took off my grimy shoes, knelt on the floor beside the bed, and wrapped my arms around his waist. I laid my head down against his warm body, and sighed. He pulled me up to lay on top of him, and I protested that I was too dirty to get on the clean bed and his clean body. He insisted, and I relented.

That's romantic.

He asked if I wanted to shower, and I said yes. He asked if I wanted him to shower with me, and I said it wasn't necessary, that he had obviously showered before he came over. And I felt grungy and ugly, and I slide off of him to go into the bathroom. I undressed and put on my robe. As I walked out of the bathroom to comb my hair, he followed me to my mirror and began to caress me from behind. He opened my robe, ignoring my protests, pushing my hands away, and ran his hands over my naked breasts and into my panties. I could feel his erection pressing against my ass. He was trying to show me he thought I was beautiful, even if I felt like I was a disgusting, greasy mess.

That's romantic.

We showered, and I washed my hair. We dried off, I put my robe back on, and we got into bed. I felt so drained as I smoked my cigarette. I was not being a great hostess, or even good company for that matter. He offered to give me a backrub. I declined, saying it wasn't necessary. Again he insisted, telling me to get on my stomach and to take off my robe completely. He called me "Laani", I think for the first time. He said "O Lanni, you're such a mess," and he said it with so much sympathy as he attempted to ease my tension wracked body.

That's romantic.

Maybe it's because I don't receive backrubs, or maybe it was because he seemed to show so much tenderness, but I couldn't relax. He had to tell me repeatedly to not anticipate what he wanted, but to just relax and go limp. He told me to tell him if he hurt me, saying that this wasn't "play, so it shouldn't hurt." He used my marshmallow lotion, and expressed mild surprise that I have so many sweet, food scented lotions, considering my rather spartan eating habits. I said I like to smell like edible things, that I don't want to smell like flowers. He answered, "I want to smell like you."

That's romantic.

And I don't know why I am so uneasy with his soft words and tenderness, at the same time I crave it. I don't want to foolishly believe it all if it's just "pillow talk". I don't want to delude myself. I want to trust him. I want to believe him. I want to please him. I want him.

Isn't that romantic?

Milk Carton

2008-10-27T11:09:00.008-04:00

I've misplaced my "happy place".
I don't remember where I put it.

I'm sure it's around here somewhere...
I'm trying to think of the last time I had it;
Where I saw it last...
I'm always losing the damn thing.

It's small, it could be anywhere...
Slipped between the pages of a book,
Hidden in the folds of my bedsheets,
Tucked behind my spice rack.
Maybe I uploaded it to My Documents.

I don't think anyone stole it...
Hmmmmm, did I lend it to somebody and forgot?
I'm pretty sure everyone I know already has one...

Have you seen my "happy place"?
Can I borrow yours?

Talk Dirty To Me 3

2008-10-22T15:16:00.002-04:00

Last night was the monthly meeting of The Erotic Literary Salon, and this time I had to attend all by my lonesome. Devo had a drama erupt prompted by the last salon, so he was letting this one go unattended. I had asked a few people to come with me, but all had prior plans. Astrid was supposed to meet me there, and bring something she wrote to read, but ended up getting embroiled in some drama of her own. M was going to meet me after band practice, but he's been inundated with work, and was feeling too overwhelmed to see me.

I had asked M what he thought I should read, and he had suggested that Lullaby was a good piece. Since I still don't have any ink for my printer I spent 45 minutes writing it out in longhand, editing for time as I went along. Previously M had said that if I sent him an email containing the piece I wanted to read he'd print it out at work for me, but I wasn't going to see him before the salon, so I kicked it old school and busted out the paper and pen.

I showed up a little late, but I barely had time to sit down and order a drink before I was called up to read. I hadn't had as much time as I usually do to review my piece, and do a few run thrus in my head and out loud before I went up. My reading was a less smooth than usual, but it was well received. Susanna, the woman who runs the event, was very happy to see me attending again, and sweetly hugged me before I went up to read.

Afterwards, I chatted with other attendees, and they were very complimentary about the piece, and previous pieces, I'd performed. I might be developing a bit of a fan base, a lady came up to me and told me that I had inspired her after last month's meeting. I gave out my blog's address, and I hope to get feedback from the folks kind enough to poke around here. It's very validating to have what I think of as one of my lesser talents so well received in such a public way.

There were alot of good readings. I was particularly impressed by a writer named Candy. She first attended last month, and the piece she read was very witty and sexy. She has the talent Devo has for injecting humor into an erotic story without taking away from the sexiness. And the piece she read last night, unfortunately I cannot recall the name, was hilarious, sexy, irreverent and satirical. It was an unrepentant "other woman" monologue, and I hope it gets posted somewhere so I can set up a link to it.

It was another wonderful time, but I do wish I hadn't had to go alone. It's much more fun when I get to catch up with Devo during the salon. And it's even more fun when I get to release all that static sexual energy that builds up during the salon with M. The last time we spent the night together after the salon I ejaculated. I'm not sure it had to do with having heard, and read, sexy stories all night, but it couldn't have hurt.

There's always next month, I suppose.

Territorial Pissings

2008-10-20T20:38:00.007-04:00

M and I have had discussions about watersports. I had played these games with Daddy before, and M had attempted it with a previous partner. M's experience hadn't proved to be very arousing for him, and he hadn't pursued it further.

I had told him about how Daddy had eased me into it throughout a day, and how it had become a recurring part of our play. I told M how it had made me feel, and that I enjoyed the erotic humiliation. I tried to explain the context in which it took place, and how it could be pleasurable. M was receptive, but felt he had to work up to it. He had laughed that he would probably need to be tipsy to be able to overcome his normal pee-shyness.

M and I were enjoying a few beers during his last visit. He gets adorably chatty when he's tipsy, and I was enjoying hearing him tell me stories and anecdotes interspersed with kisses. We were celebrating his upcoming birthday, and we sat at the kitchen table nibbling on the little cake I had made for him while we talked.

When he stood up to hug and kiss me, I was feeling very warm and mellow. He hadn't had my ass in about a week, and I was looking forward to having all my holes used as we moved to my bed. I was a little less bashful this time when he told me to undress, and I was glad when he let me keep my panties on for a while.

We had been playing on the bed a bit when he got up abruptly and told me to stand up, too. When I was off the bed, he steered me by my upper arms into the bathroom, and I knew what his intentions were, and I felt myself sinking into that soft, submissive place.

I stepped into the tub and knelt down, closing my eyes. I was excited and calm at the same time. I opened my mouth and he laid the head of his cock onto my tongue. And a few seconds later he began to fill my mouth with a stream of piss. It ran down my chin and splashed onto my chest, running in rivers pooling in my lap. He aimed above my mouth, on either side, over my chin, and onto my collarbone.

"Swallow," M instructed, after he had returned to filling my open mouth. I held it on my tongue for a moment, and then gulped it all down. I opened up to take more of him into me, and again he told me to swallow. And for a second time I swallowed a full mouth of piss. I clung to his hips, running my hands along the backs of his thighs. I stole a single look up into his face, and he held my gaze until I returned my attention to just being his toilet, his piss slut, until he was finished. I sucked at his cock, cleaning him off when his bladder had emptied, not wanting the subservience and intimacy I was feeling to end.

M disengaged me from his cock, and stepped out of the tub, telling me to wash off. I turned on the water and began to rinse. I felt how wet I had become from our play, discerning his urine from my own juices. He said to turn on the shower. He stopped me from closing the curtain and pushed the showerhead towards the wall so he could watch me as I cleaned off. I felt selfconcious, but it also felt like I was being cared for. That feeling continued when I was done, and he enveloped me in the towel and dried me off. He'd never done that before, and it made me feel cherished.

When we got back into bed, M noticed that a cut on my hand had re-opened and was bleeding. He went and got a band-aid from my medicine cabinet. When he returned, he took my hand and kissed my cut, telling me "Be more careful." He affixed the bandage, patted my hand tenderly, and admonished me, again, to "Be more careful." It made me feel little and safe.

The next morning I was at the stove making M his breakfast, when he came up behind me, wrapped his arms around me, and literally squeezed the breathe out of me. He held me tightly to his chest and said, "Mine." A warmth spread over me, and I floated away on that single word.

Later, we took a shower, a very long shower. We kissed and fucked and washed each other. In between kisses, we murmured our thoughts about our golden shower experience. He said he enjoyed pissing on his property, and I asked if he liked marking his territory. As an answer, he kissed me deeply, filling me all over again.

Lullaby

2008-10-15T12:00:00.000-04:00

"This is what I want," M's thick, desire rich voice coaxes through the phone, "I want you to unlock your door, and turn out all the lights."

"Yes," I whisper, barely audible even to myself.

"I'm going to fuck the shit out of you, then leave. And no talking."

"Yes."

"You're going to be my cum slut. You have 20 minutes to get ready."

*CLICK*

I wait in my bed, my heart thumping in my chest. I'm still damp from him instructing me to play with myself while I described to him the fantasies I have of us. I had wanted him to come to me, for him to say "I want to see you," but I hadn't dared ask. It was too late at night, too far away, too spontaneous. And then, he was coming. Here. Now.

I bite my lip, eyes fixed on my door. My ears are pricked, scanning for a footfall, a stair creak. I want to hide. I pull the blankets over my head like a child hiding from the bogeyman. I twist under the sheets, trying to find a cool piece of bed to soothe my burning skin. I can't breathe under the covers, so I pop my head out and resume my anxious vigil.

My door scrapes open and the hall light cuts a bright slash across my wall. I see him in silhouette framed by the doorway. He has no facial expression that I can discern as he walks towards the bed silently. He takes his shirt off and unbuckles his pants as I sit up, letting the blankets fall to my waist.

He pounces on me, curling his fingers around my throat, crushing my lips with his. I fall back on the pillows, and his grip tightens, his kiss becoming more insistent. He ends the kiss abruptly, but continues pinning me down by my throat while his left hand digs into my cunt.

When he climbs onto the bed, settling between my legs, I think he's going to enter me. I sit up to kiss him, but he pushes me back down onto my pillows. The shadow of his face looms above me, and his mouth is on mine again, devouring my lips. My god, what his mouth feels like moving down my neck, nipping sharply at my nipple...

He grips my hips and dives down between my thighs sucking my clit hungrily. His right hand slides up my waist, over my ribs, and kneads my breast. He pinches my nipple hard and I squeak and squirm. His fingertips press against my mouth and I run my tongue along the soft pads of his fingers. I suckle at them, gently nibbling.

He uses his fingers, soaked in my own spit, to invade my cunt roughly again. He targets my g-spot and presses in firmly. I buck my hips, grinding my clit against his tongue. I weave my fingers through the thick curls of his hair, holding him in place. Flickering licks and deep penetration make me twist and moan under him.

My head is swimming as he slides off the bed and stands beside it. He pulls me to the edge of the mattress by my shoulders and straddles my upturned face. I am folded in half again. I think he wants me to take him into my mouth, but when my tongue makes contact with his cock, he stands upright and pushes my face away. Confused, I think I am too "low" to suck his cock, so I stretch up to nuzzle his balls. He straightens again, and this time delivers a corrective smack across my face, instantly subduing me.

My poor cunt is stretched open again. I don't know why 2 index fingers should make me feel more exposed, more used, than 2 fingers from a single hand, but when he splits me like this I feel completely at his mercy. He doesn't just hold me open, but alternates between the two fingers, sliding one then the other into me further. It hurts deliciously and is difficult to adjust to this unique intrusion. I squeeze his thighs and bury my face into the crook of his knee; ashamed of my wantonness.

He climbs back onto the bed, flipping me onto my hands and knees. My face is smashed into my pillows and my ass is raised high into the air. He enters me quickly and begins pounding me relentlessly. I yelp and pant and push back against him, bracing myself against the wall, the window ledge, the edge of the mattress. His hands run up the sides of my body, fingers spread wide to feel as much of me as possible. His arm snakes around my chest cupping my breast, the other keeping me firmly in place by my hip.

He's bottoming out inside of me. I can feel the tip of his cock battering against my cervix. I know I will feel this in the morning. It sends white hot daggers into my stomach and I arch my back like a cat in heat to get ever more of him into me.

I feel him curl in behind me, laying his forehead on the curve of my neck, sinking his teeth into my shoulder blade. He moans and kisses my just-bitten flesh, sliding his hands out from under me, placing them on my shoulders. He thrusts harder, slamming up into me at the same time he pulls me down onto his cock.

I was immobile. I became a hot wet sheath to encase him. For a time "ME" disappeared, and all that is left is my cunt, my desire, his need, his lust. He uses me on my back, my knees wide and my feet in the air. I recall flashes of a barely recognizable face in shadowed relief; of a familiar scent; of moans and grunts I know; of the taste of mingled sweat; of a heated intensity threatening to consume me.

I wanted to say his name so many times. I wanted to tell him how good he felt inside of me. I wanted to urge him on deeper and harder, but I was forbidden to use words. I did not hear him whisper my name, nor did I recieve instruction. A nudge, a shove, his crushing hold on me, was our language.

When he came he sent threads of semen shooting into my mouth, lacing my cheek, and into my hair. When we were cleaned up, he spoke the first words of our encounter.

"I am so very happy right now," he said as he sunk into my pillows, a satisfied smile on his face. I didn't know if I was allowed to speak yet, but my heart was overflowing hearing him so pleased.

"Did you like that?" he asked me. I was still unsure if I should speak, so I smiled broadly and nodded emphatically. The enormous smile he gave me crinkled his eyes, and he gave me sweet, unhurried kisses.

"I did good?" I asked, still unsure if I was allowed to speak.

"You're a good girl. A wonderful little girl," he said, with a few last, lingering kisses, "Now, I want you to go to sleep. And when you wake up, you'll think this was just a dream... until you feel the pain in your pussy."

69

2008-10-14T14:49:00.012-04:00

I am not a fan of the 69 position. My general theory of it is that even when you win, you lose. If I'm performing oral as well as I should be, then he shouldn't be able to perform it on me, and vice versa. I find it insulting if he has the presence of mind to lick my clit well, and if I'm giving head well, that means I'm getting eaten out half assed. And I hate lazy oral.

Plus, the angle is all wrong. Most guys can't give good head in even the most advantageous of positions, nevermind attempting to do it backwards and/or upside down. Ugh, and I hate climbing on top and straddling a guy's face. I feel so conspicuous and awkward! And then there's torso length to take into account. So, 69 is a headache I can do without...

Yeah, so the other day I had a mindblowing orgasm during 69.

M has said I am "allowed to be selfish" during our sex. To which I reply, "Uh, I don't know how to do that." And I don't, not if I actually enjoy the person I'm fucking. I can take what I want from someone I'm not interested in, but if I care for someone, I'm giving it all every time. In addition to that, it's a point of pride for me. Needless to say, I hadn't really taken him up on his generous offer.

Fast forward to our last visit, and I'm on my back, head hanging off of the side of the bed, sucking his delicious cock. My right hand is alternating between cupping and stroking his balls; running my finger along the divide between the two. I gently tug and caress while my left hand grips his ass urging him deeper down my throat. I feel his hand slide down my stomach to my cunt. He wets his fingers with my juices and rolls my clit under his fingertips, making me moan around his cock.

I'm trying to breathe without letting up on the slippery blowjob I'm giving him (there's that pride), and I'm doing pretty well until he pulls me up by my ass cheeks and folds me in half. My knees are up by my underarms and his arm are hooked over my inner thighs, and with his hips still pressing down into my face, I was completely pinned down. I couldn't even wriggle.

Dear readers, I tried. At first I was able to maintain my rhythm, slurping away, groaning with each breathe. But I had to give it up, I just couldn't do it. It felt too good. He opened my cunt with his index fingers again, stretching me slightly without giving me the satisfaction of thrusting penetration. That burning, electricity shot through me.

My legs twitched and I didn't care. I was in a ridiculous position, and I didn't care. I couldn't perform a blowjob satisfactorily, and I didn't care. I was making the most outrageous sounds, and I didn't care. I came selfishly, and I didn't care.

I've never experienced apathy with so much feeling.

The Voice

2008-10-08T13:53:00.004-04:00

I think every Dom/me has a Voice with a capital V. Whether it's their normal voice, or a voice they only use on their submissive, it's distinctive and instantly recognizable. It's rarely a raised voice, it doesn't need to be loud. In fact, I find it much more effective when used quietly, even whispered, and in close proximity to the sub. It's low, direct and focused, and it expects to be obeyed.

I think of it like the Voice the Bene Gesserit priestesses use in Dune. Not to get all super-nerd, but I always found that to be the most compelling aspect of their training. When I trained as a Pro Domme, I saw the other Mistresses using what seemed to me to be the Voice on clients. It was instantly familiar to me, and I recognized the power of it immediately.

Daddy would use his voice to command, tease, threaten, instruct, encourage, and discipline me. Sometimes it wasn't even the words he chose, but the tone of his voice that would send the shivers down my spine. All I would have to hear was "Laani..." or "Little girl..." and I could tell if I was in trouble or being praised.

M doesn't like his voice. He says it's nasally, but I like it. I like the awe with which he says "You're so pretty," or "You don't even know how gorgeous you are, do you?" Or the desire that lowers his voice when he says "Take off your clothes." And the soft vulnerability that shades his pleas when I force him to ask for the kinky things he wants me to do to him.

M claims he can't talk dirty. That he can't think of what to say, and that he'd be too embarrassed to say such things. But I don't think it much matters what he says, it's the way he says it that thrills me. I don't care if he whispers, growls, gasps, or murmurs...Just give me that Voice.

Anal Is The New Black

2008-10-07T14:31:00.003-04:00

Or maybe I should say anal is the new blowjob. Anal sex just doesn't seem to have the stigma it used to. Maybe it's because homosexuality is, thankfully, not nearly as closeted as it used to be. Or maybe it's because sex in general is a much easier subject to discuss. Or maybe because all those kids that take religion oriented "sex education" about saving yourself for marriage having anal instead of vaginal sex have infiltrated the mainstream. Whatever the reason doesn't really matter. It's "on the menu" now.

M and I regularly have anal sex, as you may have noticed, at least once a week. He's mentioned to me that many girls he's been with weren't into it, and I understand that there's still people that cringe at the thought. It doesn't shock me to hear that as much as the chick he went out with who didn't give blowjobs, that I just can't wrap my brain around. I don't think I'd turn down any sexual activity without at least trying it with a new partner. Maybe something I did with one guy is better with another. I've had some oral sex with guys that was just a waste of time, but with others it's so good I'd do damn near anything for it. So why rule an activity out without giving it a full shot?

I have gay porn to thank for my enjoyment of anal sex. No, it didn't show me how it was done, I knew that already. And, no, it didn't show me that it was a pleasurable experience, I knew that already too. A gay porn star introduced me to the idea of enemas to ensure that it wouldn't be messy. Previous to seeing the documentary I had only had anal sex once, and had lucked out. No mess. But I was always concerned with the possibility of creating one during anal, so I didn't do it. After being exposed to this practical step to avoid the embarrassing mess, I jumped all over it.

I never shirked from the pain. I always rather enjoyed that aspect of anal sex, even before I was ever spanked or got involved with BDSM. Pain is like the salt in sex for me; it makes sex taste more like sex. And anal was a way for me to get a bit of pain without having to express a desire to be choked or smacked.

There are other aspects of anal I enjoy. I like that I can't get pregnant from it. I like how submissive it makes me feel. I like the innate brutality of it. I used to like the kinky nature of it, but that's all but disappeared. But, aside from the the pain, the thing I like most about anal is that I can have M in me from beginning to end.

Maybe I'm Amazed

2008-10-06T12:55:00.006-04:00

M and I are snuggling in my bed as the morning light invades my apartment. The night before he had made thorough use of my cunt and mouth; giving me the cum I had been daydreaming of gobbling up. His hands roam over my body and between my thighs while we speak to each other with hushed voices. I'm enjoying the intimacy, and am becoming aroused from the attention his fingers are paying to my clit.

"I told you the other day that I was going to fuck your ass even if you didn't prepare yourself. Do you remember that?"

"Yes, but I can't give myself an enema with you here. It's embarrassing."

"I'd like you to go clean yourself," he says kissing my forehead, "I'm asking you nicely."

"But...it's...embarassing," I whisper breathlessly. His fingertip is slowly and rhythmically stroking my soaked clit as he asks me "nicely" to make my ass ready to get fucked. It arouses me even more to think of what he might do to ask not nicely.

"I want you to go give yourself an enema. That's not a request. Will you do that for me?"

His mouth is so close to my face I can feel his breathe on my skin. My head is swimming, I can't manage to say yes, so I just nod a little bit. He kisses my mouth; running his velvet tongue across my lips.

"Good girl," he murmurs while kissing me, "You're a very good girl."

And he dips his head down between my thighs, spreading my legs open and up, so my ass comes up off of the mattress. His tongue is on my already throbbing clit, and I feel his right index finger slide into my cunt. Then I feel his his left index finger following the right's lead. He stretches my hole open a bit, and I struggle against the mix of pain and vulnerability. He holds me more firmly in place, continuing to keep me open, sucking on my twitching clit, sending searing bolts of lightning through my limbs. I shudder and clamp the walls of my cunt tight around his fingers.

When he releases me I go into the bathroom to administer the enema. When I'm on the toilet I pray he doesn't hear the sounds of my being emptied. Since I usually bathe after enemas, I ask if he would like to join me in the shower. I wash him first, then myself, and when I'm rinsed he lifts my leg up and pushes his cock into me as I cling to his shoulders. He spins me around and takes me from behind up against the wall and I bend over to receive as much of him as I can.

We dry off and climb back into bed, and I become shy about what's to come. He put me on my hands and knees, with a hard slap to my ass for encouragement. He takes my right hand and places it on my right ass cheek.

"Do you know what I want you to do?" he whispers into my ear.

"No," I answer, hoping he won't ask for what I think he will.

"Put your finger into your ass," and he takes my hand again and pours lube onto my fingers.

I'm nervous because I've never fingered my own ass before. It hurts when others do it, but I enjoy being dealt pain. I don't enjoy giving myself pain, however. I enter my ass slowly. He sits directly behind me, and I can feel his eyes on me. His fingers begin stroking my clit again, and again I'm wet from humiliation.

"Put another finger in. I want you to use two," his voice travels from behind me.

I only hesitate for a split second, in for a penny in for a pound, right?

The bed shifts as he gets up onto his knees and enters my cunt. I can feel him through the flesh separating our bodies. I try to visualize what it appears like inside of me, my own fingers filling my ass while M's cock slides in and out of my cunt. I was in awe of the novelty of the sensation.

When he replaced my fingers with his slippery cock, I thought my fingers would have loosened my ass up a bit. I was wrong. It was the same lovely tearing, stretching pain that always occurs when we have anal.

When the initial hurt subsides, I always beg him to fuck me harder and deeper so I can feel the pain again. Sometimes I get the added treat of his hand squeezing my throat, pulling my head back and getting him that much deeper into me. He has told me he enjoys that I do that, that I encourage him to be as fierce and relentless with my ass as he's allowed to be with my cunt or mouth.

When he cums, grunting and cursing, he collapses on top of me. And then he kisses me several times on my mouth. And I ask him if he liked it.

"Sex with you is amazing."

Feed Me

2008-10-03T12:15:00.003-04:00

I'm hungry.

I want to swallow him down. I want to feel him thrusting in and out of my mouth, my head filled with the scent him. I crave his hands on the back of my head, fingers entwined in my hair, holding me in place while he fucks my face, forcing his cock down my throat filling my mouth with his cum.

I love when he has me lick the cum from his fingers. When he cums across my chest, dipping his fingers into the droplets that have landed on my nipples or stomach, and feeds them to me. I devour his cum, licking and sucking his fingertips with enthusiasm.

I search my memory for the taste of him. He tastes like salted edamame; mild, tender, with a slightly green quality, and I crave it.

My hunger doesn't lessen after having feasted, my gluttony for his body only increases. I gorge myself, starved for the feel of him. I am insatiable.

Babysteps

2008-09-23T10:24:00.007-04:00

"Come here."

M is sitting on the edge of my bed, and I walk slowly over to him. I have a feeling about what he wants, but I push that from my mind as I lean down to kiss his mouth. We kiss slowly and I linger over his cheeks, jawline and neck, attempting to distract him from what I know is coming. His hands go to the button on my jeans, popping it open and then unzipping.

"This is a really short zipper."
"They're super low rise."
"They're about to be even more low rise."

He slides the denim down my legs, and I step out of them with tiny steps so that my legs aren't spread. I'm wearing black , lacy boyshort panties. I'm thankful I wore cute underwear. I always do when I have a date with M, but they have a tendency to come off along with my pants, not giving him an opportunity to see them.

"Take your shirt off."

I hesitate, but not too long. Being topless isn't as difficult as what's to come, so I pull my shirt over my head, but don't toss it aside. I twist the soft jersey in my hands behind my back. I'm beginning to feel that rising anxiety I always have about standing on display. I'm not sure how far he's going to take this, but he knows that I have a desire for this type of play. We've been dabbling in it, and I get the impression he's going to take it a bit further than he has before.

M is running his fingertips up my stomach and over the fronts of my thighs. He trails his hands up my hips, into the curve of my waist, and up the speed bumps of my ribs. He pinches and tweaks my left nipple, and gathers both of my breasts into his hands and massages them, squeezing and crushing the soft flesh. I sigh and try to be still.

I try to be a good girl standing there in my panties. I know that the underwear is going to come off next and all I can think about is how I'll be exposed. My eyes are are shut tight and my head is down. I don't want to see myself. I've brought my hands to the front covering my chest with tightly clenched fists under my chin.

He grabs my hands and pulls them down away from my chest. I resist a little, unwilling to give up the small bit of coverage they afforded me. When he places my wrists at my sides, and uncurls my fingers to lay flat against my hips, I fight the urge to pull them back up.

"Why are your eyes closed?"

I pause, trying to form the words, attempting to articulate what it is I'm feeling, "Because I feel vulnerable."

"You look beautiful."

A warmth spreads over me at the compliment. I need to hear that. I need to hear that I'm pleasing. I need approval. I need to be desired.

"Look at me and take off your panties."

I try to look at him, but I can't. Not while I'm like this. Not when I'm getting naked. I can't even take my panties all the way off. I get as far as mid thigh before the shame overtakes me and I can't go any further. I'm stopped in a bent over position, paralyzed, unable to completely remove them. I don't know how he'll react to this, but I just can't do it.

He stands up and walks behind me. I continue to be frozen in place, my face burning with shame. I know this looks foolish, that I look silly. I force myself to push my panties down a few inches more, but I just can't give them up. I can't relinquish that last vestige of modesty. That's when he pulls them down the rest of the way. And I'm grateful for the rescue at the same time as my humiliation increases.

"Spread your legs."

I don't move an inch.

"Spread your legs."

I move them open a fraction of an inch.

"You can do better than that."

I open a little bit more. But it's not good enough. He kicks my right leg a foot and a half to the right, and before I can adjust to the exposure, he kicks my left foot about a foot to the left. My feet are now much much further apart than I would have ever been able to do on my own.

"Lean over and put your hands on the bed," and I'm happy to be able to hide my face into the down comforter. I quickly bury my face in my hands on the bed, barely caring that this opens my ass for inspection.

I have told him earlier in the evening that I have my period. And in this position it's obvious I have a tampon in. I am completely humiliated thinking of the string that I know is clearly visible. When I feel him opening my ass and slipping his tongue over my hole, all I can think of is that little telltale sign tucked between my pussy lips, and I'm burning with shame.

His fingers run over my clit, and even with the 'pon in I'm completely soaked. My lips are slick with my juices, and I can feel it smeared on the inside of my thighs. I feel that familiar fire running down my legs while he plucks at my hard, wet clit. When I feel him tug on the string, it startles me back into reality.

"Do you want me to take this out, or do you want to do it?"

Oh. My. God. I whimper into my hands, and I am dying, dying, of humiliation. I'm so fucking embarrassed I can't stand it. I squirm and whine, but can't answer him. I can't decide. I don't want to interrupt this scene. I don't want to walk away and go to the bathroom. But I can't imagine him pulling it out. And at the same time I want him to do it. If he was my Dom and wanted to do that, I would let him, of course. And if he's willing to do something so intimate maybe I should let him do it.

It's gross. It's hot. The argument went back and forth in my head.

I don't know how long he waited for my answer. His fingers didn't leave my cunt while the war raged inside my head. He was patient, but it probably became obvious that I wasn't going to be able to make a decision, so he took it upon himself to take action, and removed the impediment.

And, again, I was grateful to him for taking the initiative.

He fucked me like that, leaning on the bed on my elbows. I lifted my ass to his thrusts. I wanted to make him feel good. I wanted to take every inch of him. I wanted to show my gratitude, to show how much I appreciated him taking my choice away, so I could be free to enjoy what he offered.

Later, he told me that he likes the freedom he has with my body. That he's feeling out what it is he wants, and he likes being able to inspect and enjoy my body however he wants. He's so curious about playing, and I think he's beginning to get an inkling of the control that is possible for him to have over my body. And even though he's inexperienced with this type of power, I know he'll be responsible with it. His desire for me to be pleased with our sex is at the heart of his willingness to explore these games.

That's not to say he's only interested because I am, I trust him to not participate in activities with which he's uncomfortable. I'm happy to try whatever strikes his fancy, and I share stories of past experiences to illustrate what's possible. We're slowly, patiently discovering what it is that works for both of us.

Montage

2008-09-22T11:00:00.007-04:00

"Hey! Get your tongue outta my butt!" >giggle< "What did you say?" "Get your tongue outta my butt!" "No, this is my butt. "

...

I'm on my hands and knees, with M behind me. My legs are slightly apart, and he's thrusting into me deeply. I'm gasping for air, and it feels like he couldn't be any further into me. But, apparently, it's not deep enough for him. He spreads my legs wider with his knee and smashes my face into the mattress by the back of my neck. And, unbelievably, gets even deeper into me.
Delicious pain.

...

He's fast asleep, cuddled up alongside me. He looks like a dark angel, with his lush mouth slightly open, and that adorable freckle on his eyelid. I'm sitting up, having my last cigarette, enjoying his body curled around mine. I hear his breathing change, and I look down to see his eyes open. He lifts his head up, and appears a bit startled. We're looking into each other's eyes, and I think he's about to tell me about a strange dream he was having. Instead he cradles my face in his hand and gives me a lingering kiss. And then smiling, snuggles closer and promptly falls back to sleep.
Breathtaking.

...

I'm sitting at my computer, and M comes up behind me. He wraps my hair around his hand and tugs my head back, hyper extending my neck. I close my eyes as I feel his other hand grip my throat, and slide down my chest between my breasts. He brings his lips down to my upturned face and kisses me, thrusting his tongue into my mouth, biting my bottom lip. And it sinks me into sweet, light subbie space.

...

I'm laying across his chest, looking up into his moonlit face. We're nestled in his bed after an evening of wet, ravenous, insatiable sex. He asks in that rich, sex laden voice of his, "There really isn't anything you wouldn't let me do to you, is there?" His eyes search my face, and I shake my head silently and slowly, no. And he gathers me up tightly into his arms and kisses me.

...

We had plans to meet, but I had no idea when I would get off of work. The restaurant was very busy, and I was kept later than I would have liked. The bus was late. I couldn't call M, because his phone was on the fritz. We had agreed to touch base online when I got home, but he wasn't online. I was so frustrated, with work, with the bus, with trying to get ready to see M, with not knowing if I was even going to see M. I didn't know what to do with myself. And then I heard a knock on my door. When I open it and see M standing there, I'm speechless.
"Hey you. I didn't know if your internet was off or if you just hadn't come home from work yet. I figured I'd just drive over."
He saved me from myself a little bit that night.

...

Talk Dirty To Me 2

2008-09-17T11:13:00.006-04:00

Well, I finally made it to another meeting of the Erotic Literary Salon. And, again, it was a great time. I get so giddy when I attend, between the exhibitionist's excitement of reading my filthy writing and the giggling good times Devo and I have when we get together, I can't not have a good time. In addition to the normal fun and games of the evening, I had the added pleasure of knowing that I'd be spending the night with M, christening his new bed.

Before the salon began, a lady spoke about sensuous/sensual experiences. It was informal, and when she asked the crowd to give her some sensual experiences, I said "Eating," which to me is obvious. She asked me what my favorite sensuous thing to eat was, and I said "Cock," which got a laugh. And then I said, "If I were to be completely honest, I would say my current lover's mouth." (M got a real kick out of me saying he was my lover...heh heh) She then asked me to use some words to describe his mouth.

insistent...hungry...searching...exaltant...base...bruising...tender...

Really, I could stare at his mouth all day. I could kiss it for hours. I love when he bites, nibbles, licks, sucks, trails his tongue over me. I love listening to him talk. His voice is like caramel; rich, toasted sugar that flows from his beautiful mouth and washes over me, coating me with thick sensuality....

But I digress...

At the salon I read Bizarre Love Triangle from a previous blog post of mine. It went over really well, and the woman who runs the salon was very happy to see me back. Devo again read something he had written that day, which was hilarious and sexy. I so admire his sense of humor. And just as the salon was ending, M called to say he was on his way back to the city from band practice. Eeeeeexcellent.... :)

Coincidentally, M and I both had an opportunity to introduce friends of ours to each other for the first time last night. M met Devo and Rob when he picked me up from the Salon, and I met M's roommate when he and I got to his place. She said she had heard alot about me, and I answered that I hoped it was "good stuff", and she said "Oh, yes." Hmmmmm, I have to remember to ask M what that "good stuff" is, exactly...

As far as all the lovely, naughty, dirty things M and I did last night...Well, that will have to wait, dear readers. M's bed was thoroughly christened, that much you can be sure of, but I have an entire post formulating about a particular recurrence in our activities lately. So, I will work on that and you'll get all the filthy details soon. :)

Violently Happy

2008-09-10T15:00:00.004-04:00

I had a surprise visit from M last night. We hadn't planned on seeing each other; he had promised a friend help in moving. I figured it would take all night, and he would be too tired to see me. I was on the way home from dinner at my sister's house when he called and asked if I wanted him to come over.

Duh.

Fleetingly, I thought of his previous "request" concerning my ass and his next visit. He maintains he wasn't being Dominant when he said he wanted me to be prepared for anal sex when we last saw each other. And since it was getting late, and I didn't want to have to explain to my sister and her boyfriend why I needed to stop at Walgreen's, I shrugged it off. I figured he wouldn't really care either way, he seemed to not expect to be obeyed.

He asked if I'd cleaned myself. I admitted I hadn't, and he asked me if I didn't remember that he had wanted me to be prepared the next time he saw me. I said yes, but that this visit had been unexpected so I hadn't had the chance to prepare.

"Well I think that I should inspect you."

"Nooooooooooooooooooo!" I said trying to scurry away from him, but he grabbed me by my upper arms and pushed my chest down onto the bed. I tried to curl into a ball, tucking my ass under. He delivered a smack sharply to my ass, taking my breathe away. I felt my cheek turn hot where his hand landed, and I raised my butt reluctantly.

When he spread my ass open I wasn't able to maintain the position. I have become unused to being on display, or subjected to inspection. But he wouldn't relent, he wouldn't allow me to hide from him, and every time I tried to to struggle away I was smacked hard and adjusted back into place. He penetrated my ass with his tongue, and I burned with delicious embarrassment.

"Why don't you want me to fuck your ass?" he asked, pressing his mouth to my ear.

"I don't want to be messy," I managed to say, shamed by the inspection and regretting not going to the goddamn drugstore.

"You should have thought about that before."

And he entered me, sliding inside in one smooth, unhesitating stroke. And it hurt. And I cried out, over and over again. And he moaned into my ear, and he sunk his fingers into my hips. And I begged him to fuck me harder, to go deeper. And he choked me, and grunted. And i was stretched, and sore, and my ass burned from the slaps and thrusts. And he filled my ass with cum, and i felt every pulsing shot. And my hair clung to my sweating face, and he collapsed on me, our breathing heavy and jagged.

And I thanked him.

Carte Blanche

2008-09-07T10:37:00.005-04:00

M is slowly getting used to the idea that he has the sort of sexual freedom with my body that he's never had with other girls. I can see the Dominant in him peeking out more and more, and he's getting much more comfortable with "forcing" me to do things that please him, but make me "uncomfortable". I've tried to explain the appeal of humiliation and shame, and I think he's beginning to get a handle on it.

He and I were cuddling and I felt his fingers creeping to my ass, and he asked me if anal was "on the menu", inquiring if I'd cleaned myself with an enema. When I replied that I hadn't, he said in a voice expecting obedience that the next time he saw me he wanted me "prepared". It vibrated that sub part of my brain, and it felt so good to have a directive again.

Later that night he told me to stand and undress. And tho I spend most of the time we are together naked, I always feel super self conscious stripping down while someone watches me. I removed my clothes awkwardly and red faced. I turned my head and crossed my arms over my body. He told me to put my hands down, and I naughtily pretended that I misunderstood, and covered my hairless cunt with my hands and used my upper arms to hide my breasts. Of course I wouldn't get away with that, and he instructed me to put my hands at my side and keep them there.

He ran his hands over my body, and I couldn't bring myself to meet his eyes. When he told me to turn around and I felt his hands on my thighs and ass, I couldn't help but wonder if I was pleasing or if he was judging my body and finding fault. It didn't matter that we have been sleeping with each other for over a month, when I'm exposed and vulnerable in that way, it bubbles up my most prominent insecurities. I tried to control my breathing. I haven't been inspected in so long...

He said the next time He has me undress for him I will have to maintain eye contact the whole time...Sigh...Thrilling shameful humiliating heart racing fear.

Kiss Me

2008-08-30T11:25:00.002-04:00

We sat at the bar talking. It was going unbelievably well. First meetings can be filled with awkward silences, and if there had been any, it wouldn't have been unexpected. But there were none. Conversation flowed smoothly, with one story, quip, and anecdote leading into another. He had me laughing to the point of aching cheeks. He complimented me, telling me how pretty I looked, and I blushed. The attraction was growing. I felt flushed and giddy. I could feel my eyes sparkling.

And then, right in the middle of me speaking, he kissed me. Quickly. Sweetly. No tongue. Just a peck, and then he resumed listening to me. But I had lost my train of thought. I blushed again with my eyes downcast; a smile spreading across my face despite myself.

I cannot remember the last time I was kissed with such innocent sexiness. It didn't stay innocent for long, happily, and he has proven to have a sexually aggressive side that I will continue to encourage. But that first tender kiss showed such consideration and promise as to make this cynical and jaded creature begin to believe in possibilities again.

At Least Somebody's Getting Bound

2008-08-27T13:26:00.002-04:00

Yeah, that's the hotness right there...

2008-08-12T14:45:00.003-04:00

the way he bites his lip before i kiss him

the freckle on his left eyelid

the way he can fuck me over and over again

that he instantly hits my g-spot

that he'll stop in mid sentence to tell me i'm pretty

when he holds my hand

that he tosses me around, flipping me and holding me into position

that he's not afraid to choke me

that he doesn't mind my past

smelling him on me after we part

the excitement i feel when we have a date

when he throws his head back and laughs, bearing his perfect teeth

how he cracks me up, bringing laughter back into my life

his hunger for my body; once i'm naked he wants me to remain naked

the way my heart beats when he looks into my eyes

that he likes my smile (the one i hate)

cuddling that doesn't make me feel suffocated

him pounding me with our mouths pressed so he can feel my screams and moans against his lips

being kissed sweetly and appreciatively before and after he savagely throat fucks me

that he's a bassist

that he appreciates good food

that he's an adorable beer snob

he doesn't mind that i smoke

he's never been married and has no kids

he doesn't think i'm uncool for not having heard of 90% of the bands he mentions (including his)

when he pulls my head back by my hair exposing my throat to kisses and bites

none of the kinky stuff is freaking him out...so far

and that smile...that fucking beautiful smile...

Ch-ch-ch-changes...

2008-08-10T10:56:00.004-04:00

This blog will undergo a slight shift. Some regular readers (if I have any of those) may have noticed the capitalization shift, the lack of "Daddy" mentions, and the focus switch from D/s to other kinky things. My sex life will continue to be the focus of this blog; it will just not be exclusively about my D/s with "Daddy".

I hope it will continue to be interesting. Maybe it will invite more readers to participate. Maybe everyone will abandon me. Either way, I just wanted to give everyone a heads up.

I Know What Boys Like...I Know What Guys Want...

2008-07-30T19:25:00.008-04:00

and i'm not nearly as likely to give it to them anymore.

***the following may veer into ranting, and does not pertain to my D/s, or Daddy, directly***

i have had it up to here with the boys i spend time with or even come into casual contact with, thinking i should be constantly going out of my way for them.

i was chatting with Ry today online, and mentioned that i had off of work tonight. i told him if he wanted to see me then maybe we could meet up tonight. he responded with "do you want to see me?" ummmm, yeah, that's why i just said that...then i asked him what he wanted to do this evening. and he asks "is there anything you'd like to do?" grrrrrr..."nothing in particular."

And that's when i began to get really fucking irritated. i ask if you wanna hang out, and then i'm supposed to reiterate that i want to hang out? then, i ask what we could do for the evening, and i get "i have to paint the deck of my car". not "we can go to the movies" or "dinner " or anything. And then...then!!!...he tells me to jump in the shower so i can catch the two (2!!!) trains i have to take to get to his place!!

i asked if he was picking me up, and he said it was in the wrong direction from his way home from work. i. am. livid. he's got no idea for anything to do, beyond fucking me, and he wants me to take the trains to see him, with the layover being in Camden, which is consistently at the top of the nation's murder and drug crime rates (i'm talking #1 year in year out). plus! he always wants me to dress up in heels and thigh highs and shit, and then sit there waiting for the next train with the homeless, crackheads, rapists, etc.

but the best part, THE BEST PART, is that recently my girlfriend, Astrid, asked me to move in with her. she's gonna be getting her own place in South Philly, near the Italian Market. it's very tempting, and i told her i'd think about it. i mentioned it to Ry and he bemoaned the fact that he'd never see me. i reminded him it was a 10 minute drive over the bridge, and he could easily take the train if he didn't want to drive. But no, he doesn't like to take the train, and he doesn't want to deal with parking in the city. and these are all very good reasons for me to get a car...and blah blah blah...

GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING ASSHOLE! WHO THE FUCK DOES HE THINK HE IS!!??!! DOES HE THINK HE'S SO FUCKING SPECIAL THAT I SHOULD BE GRATEFUL HE WANTS TO SEE ME??!!! HE'S A GOOD LAY, SO THAT MEANS I ALWAYS HAVE TO GO OUT OF MY WAY TO SEE HIM???! I'M A GOOD LAY, TOO! WHY DOESN'T THAT TRANSLATE INTO ME GETTING A RIDE OR DINNER OUT OR SOME-BLOODY-FUCKING THING!!!??? HE'S NOT MY DOMINANT!!

...deep breathes, deep breathes.....

and, ya know, it probably wouldn't be bothering me too much, except that Astrid and i went out this past weekend. we had a great time together, together being the operative word. when i tried to talk to any of the guys, or girls for that matter, i got the most vapid non-conversation. i couldn't believe it! when did people stop bothering to be interesting or funny? i'm standing there being charming, and amusing, and putting my best self forward...and nothing. i'm having a conversation with a wall. one of the guys i met was supposedly a writer, for chrissake! even he couldn't muster an interesting story! i'm not expecting miracles here, just give me something to work with!

i'm completely disgusted. i do not need to work that hard. buying me a drink does not guarantee you my phone number. i'm worth more than that. i'm more valuable than that. i'm not like other girls. and i am not putting up with these...boys...getting the benefit of me without me believing they're worth it. they aren't even trying anymore, and their luck has run out.

Bizarre Love Triangle ...A Cuckold Fantasy

2008-07-24T13:18:00.011-04:00

I pull up to the Victorian duplex where my girlfriend lives; parking alongside the curb squeezing into the only open space. It sits on the corner of a dead end little lane and the main street of town. She and 3 friends of hers share the second and third floors of this rundown, creaking dowager of a house. It appeals to their starving artist boho aesthetic to live in decadent squalor.

The owner/landlord, Anthony, lives in the first floor apartment, and the parking spot I've secured is right outside his brightly lit kitchen. As I turn off the engine I look into his kitchen window and see he has company. He's sharing a beer with a friend of his, Bobby, whom I've met before. They sit at the kitchen table, but are not talking to each other, they're laughing at something on the other side of the kitchen that i can't see from my vantage point.

I'm about to get out of the car when i see who they've been listening to. My girlfriend steps into the space framed by the window. They must have invited her spur of the moment because her hair is thrown up into a ponytail, and she's wearing her "hanging around the apartment clothes"; a white wife beater and a pair of my boxers. Even from the street I can see her braless nipples through the thin material.

She walks towards the table where Anthony and Bobby are sitting, moving her hands to illustrate her story. When she reaches the table her back is towards me, and she comes to the punchline of her story, throwing her head back and laughing. She doesn't see the look the two friends give each other as they join in her amusement with an amusement that has nothing to do with the tale she's regaled them with. Their eyes are devouring her body, and I can see that they're practically twisting in their chairs.

Anthony gains a bit of courage and reaches out for her waist, scoots his chair back from the table, and pulls her onto his lap. It's meant to be friendly and playful on the surface, but the way he crooks his arm around her hip once she's settled on top of him is far from platonic. Bobby starts telling his own story, but from the way Anthony's fingers are sliding up and down my girlfriend's thighs i doubt he's even listening.

Anthony's other hand slips up her waist and settles on her ribcage just under her left breast, and he whispers something into her ear. Smiling broadly, my girlfriend twists in Anthony's lap to face Bobby, and spreads her thighs. Bobby stops telling his story and watches as Anthony's right hand disappears up the leg of my girlfriend's boxer shorts, while his left hand cups her breast tugging her nipples through the fabric with his thumb and forefinger.

I can feel the familiar tingling spread through my cock as I watch. Heat runs down the length of my shaft, and I press my hand over my jeans at the growing stiffness. Now I'm shifting in my seat, looking to see if there's anyone around to catch me if I were to take it out. The house is on the outer edge of town, but it's summer and people like to hang out on their porches and go for walks around here. For the moment I content myself with unbuttoning and unzipping, but don't pull my cock out...yet.

In the few moments my attention was distracted my girlfriend's top has been pushed up over her tits, and Anthony's right hand is now pushed down the waistband of her boxers. Her eyes are closed with the back of her head on Anthony's shoulder, face pointed to the ceiling, her hands gripping the sides of his hips. Bobby has leaned in closer paying rapt attention to the show. The table's in the way, so I can't tell if Bobby has his cock out, but his shoulder is moving in a distinctive back and forth motion.

When Anthony stands her up and pulls off her boxers I can't resist any longer, and dig my cock out of my pants. I can feel my pulse pounding against my damp palms, and I squeeze the base of my cock, twisting my wrist and relishing that first tight stroke. Anthony bends my girlfriend over and she supports herself on her elbows, left foot on the floor, right leg bent across the table. Her chest hovers over the edge with her mouth inches away from Bobby's crotch. I can't see if she's wet, but I know she wants to get fucked when she wiggles her ass in Anthony's direction.

My breathing is rugged watching my girlfriend get double stuffed. I feel like I'm going to burst out of my skin with lust. My entire body is tensed, poised to erupt. Jealousy, desire, and voyeuristic fascination combine to become a hunger for her I have never felt before.

That whore, that insatiable slut! So hungry for cock. Is that what she needs? A cock in every hole? I'll fuck you slut, I'll fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk the next day. I'll tear you. I'll bruise you. You want it in your ass don't you? You filthy slut, you fucking filthy slut. I'll give you meat for that hungry cunt! You're gonna be raw. You're gonna hurt. You're gonna FEEL THIS! Is that too much for you, little slut? You can't take it? You're gonna take it! Take it, take it, TAKE IT!

I Try

2008-07-10T21:21:00.004-04:00

Daddy has been unbelievably busy as of late. He's amassing a vast empire in his field, and it's requiring alot of his attention. He's making large strides, and as much as i miss him, i'm really happy to see his ambitions coming to fruition. It's awesome in its most literal meaning.

That's not to say that i didn't feel the strain of his absence. It's been difficult to deal with the coldness and reserve that is Daddy's natural personality which only becomes more austere when read in infrequent text messages, i.m. chats, and the even rarer email. This can be particularly difficult when it isn't tempered with visits that reassure me that he does want me, like me, occasionally spares a thought for me, and doesn't just want to be rid of me. my natural insecurities made me think all sorts of dire scenarios.

And, at the same time, i knew he was busy. Very, very busy. And i kept my growing concerns to myself, and attempted to distract myself. i hung out with Ry a coupla times, worked alot, and developed a new craft project for myself. Still, i was miserable.

i am loathe to bother Daddy with every little apprehension that enters into my head. i am acutely aware of his...constraints...in even the most permissive of situations. More often than not, any anxiety on my part dissipates when i spend a bit of time with him. Daddy makes it allllll better...lol

But i was hesitating to talk to him about this. He's not particularly fond of confrontation, and i didn't want him to think i wasn't understanding the pressure and immediacy all of his projects require. i didn't want to sound whiny or naggy. Daddy would react to that by shutting down, and it wouldn't be a proper representation of what i was going through anyway. Knowing how to talk to Daddy may be one of my most useful skills.

There were some false starts, a bit of misunderstanding, then some clarification, some reminding of "understandings", and then resolution. Yeah! Viva la Resolution! lol

Daddy said he would keep in mind that while i completely understand about his time constraints, and that i feel that i.m.-ing and texts are certainly a viable, albeit limited, substitute for actual visits, i would feel infinitely better about being apart so much if he remembered to treat me sweetly. i had been missing the "princess"s and the "wink" and "smile" emoticons. i know it may sound trivial, but i needed him to say i was good. i needed some validation.

And what a difference in my outlook when he finally told me he thought that i was being very good. That i was being a patient girl, and that was what he needed right now. That he still wanted to play with me, tho there really wouldn't be time for that for a while. D/s requires time, and time is at a premium for Daddy, and i'm willing to forgo the hardcore D/s "scening".

i commented on how "easy" i am, and Daddy agreed. There are few subbies who would be happy with as little attention as i'm paid. And i am happy. Especially when the attention i do receive is praise and appreciation for my patience and "good"-ness. And with the possibility of seeing Daddy in the near future, there may even be some hot material to report... ;)

Fingers crossed! :)

Something in the Way

2008-06-27T12:05:00.003-04:00

i havn't been able to post recently, for many reasons, not the least of which was because my internet was off for a while. i have it turned on again, but i can't guarentee how much posting i'll be doing. i'm playing it by ear.

i missed the second literary salon because i had to work. D told me that i was definitely missed. Everyone was asking him where i was, and they told him to tell me that they hope i'll be back for the next one. From now on i'll be requesting that day off. i didn't this month only because i don't usually work tuesdays, but my position has changed, therefore so have my hours. Apparently one of the selections read that evening was even dedicated to me...an excerpt from "American Psycho", a book, unbeknownest to the reader, that i enjoy very much.

i saw Daddy last week. i was beaten with various implements. Not for punishment, just for play. It was fun to be beaten again, and when Daddy gave me the choice of implements to be used on me, i ended up choosing the ones He wanted to use.

One of the implements was the sensory deprivation hood. Subspace, wine, and time have blurred my recall of the experience, but i can say with certainty i enjoyed it.

i hope that Daddy will have me for more fun and games soon. And i hope that i can have more comprehensive memories of that time.

Serge Gainsbourg - Lemon Incest

2008-06-02T20:43:00.001-04:00

Astrid brought this song to my attention while we still worked at the dungeon. She knew i would enjoy the unsubtle incest theme. Plus she knew i'm a Leonard Cohen fan, and Serge Gainsbourg has been referred to as the "Leonard Cohen of France".

The song is a duet between Serge and his real-life daughter, Charlotte. It's in French, but the vid is hot, in a pretentious, artsy, French, 80's sort of way. i took some time to translate the lyrics. Give it a listen...:)

(Charlotte sings....)

Inceste de citron...Lemon incest

I love you, love you

Love you more than anything

Papa, Papa

(Serge sings)

Naïve like a Nierdoi Saurou* painting

Your kisses are so sweet

Inceste de citron...Lemon incest
I love you, love you
Love you more than anything
Papa, Papa

The love that we'll never make together

Is the most beautiful, rare, the most troubling

The purest, most intoxicating

Exquisite outline

Delicious child

My flesh and blood

Oh my baby, my soul

Inceste de citron...Lemon incest

I love you, love you

Love you more than anything

Papa, Papa

...Repeat...

*The "Nierdoi Saurou" painting alluded to is believed to be an example of Gainsbourg's frequent puns, referring to the painter "Douanier" Henri Rousseau, who is a prominent "niave", or in the U.S. "primitive", painter. Serge is saying Charlotte is as "untaught" as an unschooled artist, at the same time he's implying she has "natural talent". Get it? Fucking hot...

Serge is known for having a biting sense of humor, a love for plays on words, and a penchant for giving "the powers that be" the finger. If your a regular viewer of VH1, then you may have seen a clip of him saying on a French talk show, of which Whitney Houston was also a guest, that he'd "like to fuck" Ms. Houston...to her embarrassed glee. If i'd been her i woulda jumped all over that offer...

Anyway, about the song. Yes, the subject of incestuous contact is the pervasive theme. And, yes, the duet is real life father and daughter. However, it states, explicitly, that they won't be doing anything about the physical attraction they have for each other, at the same time they acknowledge that it exists parallel to the more acceptable parent/child love they also share.

i can't help but admire the affection Serge has for Charlotte, and the songs he's written to illuminate the complicated feelings a Daddy feels for His little girl.

Bigmouth Strikes Again

2008-05-28T21:15:00.012-04:00

Daddy has a hood, black leather with a metal hole at the mouth. Unfortunately, the hole is only large enough for breatheing, i don't think Daddy could fit Himself through it for a blowjob. It's warm in that hood, i've worn it only once before, during a punishment. Daddy showed it to me when W/we first began to play, asking me how i felt about sensory deprivation. i hadn't had any experience with sens dep at the time, and He didn't go any further into it.

i believe Daddy used the hood on me during punishment because i don't like it. i say "i believe" because He didn't tell me why He put it on me, but He knows i don't like it, so it would make sense to have me hooded when i was being "adjusted" due to naughtiness. But since then i haven't worn it.

Daddy says He likes the dehumanizing aspect of it. He has mentioned that He would like to get me something like this, but as a kitty.

i was reading slut on display the other day, and it started me thinking about hoods. And whether or not i want to wear one. It's not that i'm clausterphobic, or that i have any issues with not being able to see. Daddy has frequently blindfolded me, and has even done it with other people present, and i was perfectly fine with it. And though its uncomfortably hot in the hood, it's not what bothers me most.

i guess what bothers me is the disappearance of me. i worry all the time about whether or not i please Daddy in a general way. i know that certain things i do ( cooking meals, blowjobs, rule following) please Him, and He tells me. But i'm never certain if i, myself, am pleasing. Partly because i'm insecure, and partly because Daddy has a reticent and reserved type of personality. What i lack in physical beauty i try to make up for by being an interesting person and giving good conversation...and blowjobs. Did i mention blowjobs? i give alot of blowjobs...lol

i get unnerved thinking about standing there, naked except for the hood. It's scary. It makes me literally squirm and my heart pound. The hood makes me really uncomfortable.

And i couldn't stop thinking about it. And then i realized that my inability to shake the thoughts about the hood could mean i wanted it. Even though it scares me, or, probably because it scares me. i want to be scared. i want to be completely freaked out. That's part of what i enjoy about all this D/s stuff in the first place. Duh.

So, i wrote about it in the private blog.

i will be fucked in it the next time i visit Daddy.

Eek!

God. Damn. Bigmouth.

Talk Dirty To Me

2008-05-22T12:05:00.008-04:00

i took a big leap the other night. i read a piece of erotica i wrote in front of a bar full of people at the inaugural Erotic Literary Salon. It was a wonderful time, and a nice sized crowd, especially when you consider it was the debut and on a Tuesday!

i wasn't sure i was going to actually read at the salon, or that i would read something i wrote. People were invited to read either their own work or another author's. i vacillated between going or not going for days, and changed my mind on Tuesday at least 3 times. i had contacted some writer friends to go with me, but until Tuesday afternoon i hadn't heard back from them. When my friend D called to tell me he had written something that day for the salon, i made my final decision to attend.

i spent some time chatting online with Ry that day. Ry was encouraging me to blow off the salon because he wanted me to visit with him that night. Daddy had been kind enough to pick out a story for me to read, per my request, and Ry asked me to email him what i intended to read. Ry didn't think the story was very good, i believe the phrase "Penthouse letter" was used to describe it. i wrote it for Daddy in one of the earliest posts on the private blog, and i admit it's not the greatest thing ever written, but i was truly hurt by his "critique".

i really wanted to read the story Daddy had picked out, and i thought that if i did a little re-wording i might be able to improve it a bit before showtime. i began writing it out (i really need to get some ink for my printer), and i realized it was pretty long. i was definitely going to attend the salon, but i hadn't decided whether to read or not, and i didn't want to invest in a story that took alot of time to recite. i decided to copy down a shorter piece, more of a "scene" than a complete story. i also copied out a little 4 line poem i wrote a long, long time ago.

These are the original works i read:

I want hot cinnamon kisses
Sprinkled down my back
Some sweet pepper smack
And a handprint on my ass

i'm playing with my pussy on my father's bed. i have found his porn and toy stash, and i have been cumming for the last hour. The magazines are spread around me and there is a video playing soundlessly on the TV. The hard, red plastic vibrator has been in my cunt and, slowly, inserted into my ass, with no real effect. It was quickly discarded. my fingers are pressed to my soaking wet clit, my ass moving up and down, grinding another orgasm out of my exhausted body. i am sweating, the heat of my body radiating from me, steaming the sheets and pillows. my eyes are squeezed shut, my brow is furrowed, i am about to go over the edge yet again.

i want my father to find me like this. Cumming on his bed. Panting and flushed after imagining him fucking me. i want him to become aroused at the sight of my thighs slick with my own fuck. my cramped glistening fingers curled up on the pillow beside my head. i want him to see between my legs, my still pulsing clit, shuddering under his gaze. i want him to touch me there. He'll wet himself with the juices of my cunt, and straddle me. He will press his cock against my breastbone and gather my tits together. He will fuck me that way, the head of his cock popping into my mouth with every thrust. And when he cums it will be in my hair, splashed across my tits, pooling in the hollow of my throat.

i will be used. i will be desirable. i will arouse. i will be wanted.

i also chose 2 books to read excerpts from; Beauty's Punishment and Topping from Below. The bit from Topping was a description of the main character fucking a dog, and the bit from Beauty was Soldier's Night at the Inn which is a gangbang scene. i chose them for their shock value, and because i wanted to establish right away that there would be no "taboo" topics at the salon. i wanted to establish a precedent for raunchy, filthy extremes, because that's what turns me on, and that's what i write.

When i got to the lounge where the reading was being held, i was asked to sign up to read out loud. There were two bags, one for reading original works and one for reading someone else's. On a slip of paper you were to write your name, the title of the piece, and whether it was "edgy" or "romantic". For all of my submissions (lol) i wrote "edgy" and underlined it with exclamation points. At least they couldn't say they weren't warned...

D arrived a few minutes after me, and we had a cigarette and caught up with each other's lives. The organizer of the event gave a little introductory speech, and introduced a 90-something year old woman who read a short piece she had written. It was very, very cool. She wrote about how she spotted this old guy at her retirement community pool, and their subsequent sex. After she was done reading she gave us the additional information that the sex she had described took place on their first date! Kick ass lady!

Then she started pulling names out of the hat...and guess who's name was chosen first. Yup, me, the big scardey cat who didn't even know if she'd read. And it was from the original works bag, too. i started shaking the minute i heard my name. my heart was racing, and my palms were wet. i'm sure i was flushed from head to toe. i was offered the chance to not go first, but i said i'd do it. i felt lucky and honored, and if i was gonna do it, i was gonna do it, and the only way to do something like that is to just jump into the deep end.

i put the mic on the mic stand with a joke about needing "both hands free", which got a laugh, thank god. The paper was shaking in my hands, and i hoped the audience wasn't noticing. i opened up with the "hot cinnamon kisses" bit, and everyone clapped politely.

Since we had a 5 minute limit, and i was up there already, i read the "father's bed" piece, too. After the first line there was a bit of a murmur, and then absolute silence. i didn't even hear people drinking, no one moved. i read calmly, but with inflection and conviction. i didn't want anyone to think i was ashamed of what i was reading, or that i was in a rush to get through it.

And when i was done, they cheered. i couldn't believe it. They liked it! i mean really liked it. Not polite clapping with accompanying murmurs of snide remarks, but actually enjoyed what i had written. i smiled and giggled back to my seat, and grabbed D's hand to calm myself. i was still shaking, giddy and full of adrenaline when the next person went up. i could barely calm down enough to pay attention to what she was saying.

Eventually i chilled out a bit, and i was able to enjoy the other readers. There was a good combination of original and published works. Another girl read from her own stuff, but i didn't find it very titillating. It was too flowery and obscure for me. i couldn't understand what it was she was describing. Maybe i'm too literal minded for all that. D read his pieces, too, and they were awesome. i knew they would be, tho. He's a really good writer, and he's great at incorporating humor into his pieces without detracting from the sexiness.

Halfway thru there was a break, and all of a sudden D and i were surrounded by people! They were telling us how good they thought our stuff was, and we were asked for our email addresses to join groups. One of the women helping the organizer thanked me for going first, and told me how great she thought i did. i was just shocked, completely shocked. All these people vying for our attention, and telling us how wonderful we were, it was damn heady. i was so flattered, and i got giddy all over again. i am so not poised! lol

D told me how impressed he was with what i had written. He knows how i struggle with writing and that i don't think its particularly good. He says i need to get over my insecurities, and that he wasn't exactly shocked by how good my writing was, but that he was surprised by how well i've progressed since he last heard any of my writing. And believe me, if it was crap he'd say so. lol

After the break there were a few more readers, chosen at random, and then the last name was drawn from the published author bag. Yup, me again. i bookended the event! i read the dog fucking excerpt from Topping first. It opens benignly enough, but the fourth line is "Having sex with the dog was different than i thought it would be," and there were a few gasps and a second of murmuring. But i didn't pause. i kept on reading completely unashamed, and they were absolutely silent again. i had them in the palm of my hand, they were motionless the entire piece. And they loved it, just absolutely loved me going there.

Next i read the chapter from Beauty entitled Soldiers Night at the Inn. It took me a second to find the part i wanted to begin with, the good parts. ;) i read this piece a bit more light heartedly, it sort of lends itself to that. i wanted to give everyone a bit of a respite after the intense taboo of the the dog fucking account i had just read. It was a hit, but can you really go wrong with the Sleeping Beauty Chronicles? ;)

After i read the salon was over, and everyone swarmed D and me again. This time the organizer came over and introduced herself. She was so happy with me. She said that she was so pleased i had read such extreme material, that she had hoped someone would have the courage to do that, and that she had intended for the salon to be a place where people could read things like that. She spoke with D and i for quite a while, and made sure that we would come back for the next salon. D and i have decided to make it a regular monthly date for us, and i look forward to reading even more outrageous writings.

Everyone was very respectful to the readers, but i have to say, when i got up there you could hear a pin drop. Now, since i was first, i could understand that, but by the time i read the published works i felt like they were trusting me to give them something good, something worthwhile. i can't tell you how thrilling and validating that was. i had forgotten what a rush performing is, and to have my own writing so well received was unexpected.

i wished Daddy had been there to see it. i have Him to thank for being the inspiration for my erotic writings. i had written things for boyfriends before, but they never commented about what i had written. my Daddy has always been very encouraging of my writing in general, and very complimentary of my erotica in particular. i know it was me getting all the praise and adulation, but it wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for Daddy. i would've loved for Him to see how well received what i had written for Him was. i never considered reading these things out loud and in public, tho i have posted some of them here.

i would also like to thank you guys for all the encouragement and appreciation you have expressed for my original erotic works. i would also like to particularly thank lg, who was probably the first reader to express an interest in my writing, and a desire to hear more. Thank you all, i can't tell you how much your comments encouraged me to be able to participate in the salon.

:*

Boys Against Girls

2008-05-10T11:05:00.006-04:00

my trip to Vegas to be with Daddy for the weekend was a complete success!! Huzzah!

Daddy's friends M and J liked me very much, particularly M. i even got along with L, the girl J flew in as his companion for the weekend. Getting along with Daddy's friends/business partners was the thing that had me the most nervous about the trip. i had never met them before, and Daddy had told me that M would have lots of questions for me about Daddy's and my D/s.

The first night W/we went out to dinner at a really awesome sushi place, Osaka. Daddy, M, and i had alot of fun discussing J and L. i had met L briefly before she and J left for their own evening out, but i hadn't really gotten an impression of her. Daddy and M weren't terribly impressed by her, and i tried not to be too influenced by what T/they said. i didn't want to be unfair to her, maybe she was as nervous about meeting J's friends as i was to meet Daddy's, and hadn't made the best impression because of it. i could understand that.

After T/they gave me the lowdown on J and L, M began a relentless questioning that lasted the rest of the night. It wasn't so much interrogation as boundless curiosity, and he was very charming and accepting. i think M was even a little impressed. i told him that i can have my own ideas and opinions of things, and Daddy even allows me to be a bit of a smartass, as long as it doesn't get out of hand, because i think He enjoys it. i told M that i found submission liberating, that it freed me from having to make decisions all the time. That Daddy's the boss, and that i feel comfortable settling into that, that it makes me feel safe.

At that point M called his girlfriend so i could tell her that. Daddy said i had to talk to her even tho i had never met her! But she was, surprisingly easy to talk to, and she was funny and outgoing , and teasingly told me not to let T/them push me around. Daddy didn't get angry about that, but just laughed. i was glad about that, because she really did sound like a fun person, and i don't think Daddy minded me listening to her say that. Daddy knew it was just her being friendly.

You wouldn't believe what T/they did to me at dinner tho!!! Daddy pays close attention to my alcohol intake when i am with Him, and i only drink what He permits me to have. W/we got some beers and a bottle of saki with dinner, and Daddy had poured me some of each. W/we all chatted easily, and i was trying to be as articulate as possible about D/s for M. i finished my glass of beer, and M poured me another. Up until that point i had only drank what Daddy had given me with His own hands, so i looked over to Daddy to ask if it was ok for me to drink it.

M said for me to just drink the beer, nevermind Daddy. But Daddy asked me if i was going to listen to M. i said of course not, and then Daddy said that i wasn't allowed to, but He used His stern voice. i was confused by His tone. i was being good, why was Daddy using His stern voice?

Then M picked up the glass of beer and put it to my mouth. i clamped my lips shut and tried to pull my head back away from the glass. Daddy was saying not to drink the beer, and to let it pour down my chin before i let it into my mouth. M was telling me to drink. i felt some beer drip down my cleavage, and i was scared i'd smell like beer all night.

Then i felt M pinch my nose closed, and i closed my eyes. i just concentrated on sitting very, very still. i kept my lips tight together, and i could feel the cold beer against my mouth. i didn't hear M or Daddy anymore. i didn't think about people watching us. i didn't even think about my inability to breathe. All i thought about was not drinking that fucking beer.

i don't know how long it went on. It felt like forever , but the whole thing couldn't have been more than a few minutes. M released my nose and the glass disappeared. i think Daddy said something like, "good girl" and "I told you she wouldn't drink it." i think i heard that, i'm not sure. i wiped my mouth and realized where W/we were, and i said "Y/you two are gonna get U/us all arrested!" and all 3 of U/us laughed.

Daddy told me that M later said that while T/they were "scening" with me he felt that time stood still, and the rest of the restaurant disappeared. Until i heard that i hadn't realized i had gone into subspace. i always get so fuzzy when i go into it, and i don't always realize until afterwards that i've been in subspace. Apparently, M had experienced his first foray into Domspace that night with me and Daddy.

i don't know if they had pre-planned the scene. Daddy wouldn't usually take such big risks in public. Anyone of those people in the restaurant could've jumped to my "rescue". During O/our scene the entire restaurant fell silent, and W/we were sitting at the bar, so all the sushi chefs had a front row seat! LMAO No doubt they were all put at ease when i cracked a joke and the 3 of U/us laughed, and W/we probably gave them a great story to recount to friends. lol

Pet Toys

2008-04-28T14:29:00.014-04:00

i slide the back of my fingers under her breasts as i tug the rope behind her. her breasts are larger than mine, and i like the feel of thier weight when i cup them. i tie of the chest harness between her shoulder blades with a small square knot. i don't want her to be too uncomfortable when i have her on her back, i'm not sure how long she can endure being bound. i'm tying off her wrists seperately from the harness, i want to be able to move her around without having to undo too much of my ropework.

i don't have to worry about her hair getting in the way when i place the blindfold on her, she wears it short. i whisper in her ear with a chuckle, "There little toy, that should make you more comfortable. At least you won't have to bear witness to all the activities of this evening."

i lay her down on the bed, and wrap her wrists up simply and quickly, atttaching them high above her head to the rungs at the head of the bed. i admit i tug them a little higher than is completely comfortable for her, but for the moment she's mine, and i sometimes play rough with my toys... i run my nails down her arms, across her nipples, over her hips to her ankles. i notice that she's kept her legs spread. Whether she's done that conciously or subconciously doesn't matter to me, it's an encouraging sign nonetheless. i grip her ankles, each in turn, and wind more rope around them, leaving a good amount to adjust her positioning.

i pick up the 2 lengths of rope a little more than halfway towards the ends and slide off of the bed. i'm holding the rope with both hands when i loop it around the the top most rung above her head. i pull the rope thru and her feet rise up, up, up. i'm not sure exactly where i want her feet, so i play with the rope a bit. i lower them, then lift them up higher, then a bit lower. i can see this is making her nervous, and i enjoy that.

When i've decided that i want her feet hovering above her ears is when i finally look over at Him. He's sitting in a chair quietly observing the scene going on in front of Him. Slyly i shift my eyes in His direction, and tug her feet roughly into position, then knot the rope. He's smirking at me. He's never seen me be Dominant before. i'm in full Dominatrix mode, so i'm confident and aggressive. He doesn't usually see me like that, either.

i have her ass in the air, and her legs suspended above her, slightly apart. i know she feels vulnerable and revealed, i know because that's how i feel when i'm bound this way. Better give her some assurance, " O little toy, you look so yummy. Let's play a little, we're going to have so much fun..."

i climb back onto the bed, kneeling upright, knees under her ass. i press my breasts against her cheeks and lean in " you're in a very compromising position, toy. How does it feel?" she giggles hesitantly and breathes, "i'm nervous, i don't know what's going to happen..."

"Well, toy, it's not for you to know , is it? toys don't make the rules, toys do what they're made to do. For instance i can tickle you," i say, running my fingers across the soles of her bare feet making her squirm. "Or i can scratch you," again sliding my nails down her calves and the backs of her thighs, only this time harder. "Or i can pinch you," taking the flesh of her left cheek between my fingers and pinching, very hard. This makes her yelp quite satisfactorily. "Or i can be very, very nice, and caress you," and i cup my palm over her poochy pink pussy, settling her and making her smile a bit.

"But first you're getting a spanking," i say curtly, reaching for the paddle. It's the double sided one, with the rabbit fur on one side and lovely, smacky leather on the other. i keep it in my left hand, and warm her up a bit with my right. i spank her evenly, she's not used to these games, i don't know how much she can take. i build up slowly, and at first she doesn't move around that much, but it's not long before she squirming futilely trying to evade the blows. Really, they weren't all that hard....>smirk< "i'm being kind and taking it easy on you, and you must be a good toy, and play my little games. Be compliant and submissive, please me, and i'll take very good care of you," all the while slipping the fur over her thighs and hot, pink bum.

"Okay, toy, now for a bit rougher game..." and i give her a good whack on her right cheek. Not too hard, but she wasn't expecting it. i know it stings, i know it hurt. i know...and i continue with the paddling. i increase the speed, then slow down, and build back up again. Every so often i switch to the fur side again, and coo to my little toy what a lovely shade of red her ass is becoming. i paddle her harder, then softer, changing position so she doesn't know where the blow will land, how hard, how frequently, or if it will be the slap of leather or the fluffy thud of fur.

i place a hand on her burning behind and rub her gently. i'm curious to see what effect this has had on her pussy and with my left hand i trace a trail with up to the crease between her legs. i press down with 2 fingers and spread her open, and am gratified to see slick inner lips. i smile to myself and look over at Him and wink. His smile broadens.

"O little toy, i'm so pleased to see you enjoying my games. your bum is nice and red, but i don't believe you will be marked, tho you may feel it tomorrow. Isn't that wonderful? you'll have a reminder of our fun together!" and she lets out a soft little moan.

she's hairless between her legs, and has one of those clits that likes to hide, but i'm very good at seeking. While keeping her lips open with my left hand, i bring my right up and run my thumb up the inner fold of her cunt. she's bright pink inside and i detect a bit of a quiver when i catch her little bud with the side of my thumb, "There you are, time for a little attention for my toy."

i rub her clit slowly in one direction, up the underside. she gives another little moan, but otherwise all i can hear is her breathing. i press up and roll her clit like a marble, increasing the pressure a bit more when i slide over the tip. That's when i see her toes curl. "little toy, do you like the more direct type of play? you want it right here, toy?" and i make infinitesimal circles around the now poking bud, barley touching it, using her own juices to lubricate my motions. i see my toy's thighs tighten. When she begins to twist i give her a hard smack, "Be good!", and she freezes into position again.

i continue to tease her clit, pulling the hood back to expose even more of her for me to play with. my toy's breathing is becoming deeper and more rapid. i do not want her to cum yet, that isn't my plan. i reach up and untie her legs, lowering them slowly to the bed. "Roll over, toy." i rub her hips and legs for a moment, easing any tensions that might have accumulated. i don't want my toy to collapse before i'm ready for her to.

"Up on your knees, my little toy. New game, new position." i reach up and loosen the rope attaching her arms to the bed to give her more slack in her wrists, and press on her back to get her chest onto the bed, "Here, toy, you can hug the pillow to keep your face up. No unregulated breathe play," i chuckle, "And keep your ass up in the air. Don't make me regret untying your legs, stay in position. Good toy, good little toy," and i give her a playful swat on her bum.

i shuffle around to behind her again, this time i can't see her face. my little toy wiggles her ass when i bring my hands back up to her slit. i give her a few smacks on the inside of her thighs, "Open up, toy. i'm not done with your cunt yet." she obeys me, spreading her legs a bit further, thrusting her pussy out towards me. "Very good, toy. Very nice," and i cup her ass and give it a bit of a squeeze to show her i'm pleased.

By this time my little toy is quite drippy. The inside of her thighs are smeared with her juices and there's a thread of slime strung from her lip to the crease of her groin. Delightful. i slip my index finger between her lips and reach down for her clit. i take it between my thumb and the second knuckle of my index finger and pinch, gently and wetly. The jump this produces is terribly satisfying, and i give her another snap. my little toy jumps again. i snap without increasing the pressure, this isn't for pain, i want my toy to be lost in pleasure. i can feel my own cunt becoming slick, and my own clit twitches with each pinch and jump.

The toy moans, and i hear Him shifting in His chair. i look over at Him again and this time i smile broadly. He smiles back at me. He is very, very happy. This spurns me on, and i stop snapping her clit and cup my left hand around the underside of her cunt; with my thumb again on her clit while pressing above her mons with my fingers. i enter her soaking wet pussy with the first 2 fingers of my right hand, i can feel her opening up to me. she feels like a wet, hot, velvety balloon slowly expanding to accommodate my fingers, and i deeply sink into her.

i press down with my fingertips and increase the pressure on the outside of her body with my left hand. i start slow and work the inside of her carefully, paying particular attention to when she squeezes down on my intruding fingers. i increase the pressure and speed. i build her up, and my hand is soaked. my toy begins to grunt, and then begins screaming. i continue to work her cunt when i get the urge to nibble her ass. i bring my teeth down on her tender flesh. i don't break skin, but my toy can feel the edge of my teeth scraping her skin.

"Little toy, do you like that? Little slutty toy loves to have her cunt played with," i murmur into her ass. " Precious little toys want soooo much attention. "Aren't you an eager little wet slit. Pussy clamping down on my fingers," all the while a bound wiggling mess of slutty submissive is cumming on my hand.

"O toy, you think you're done? O no, toy, not at all. i know you want more, little toy, don't you? Say you need a cock, little toy."

"i need a cock, please," my toy says, barely audible and completely out of breathe.

"Toy..." i say looking over at Him, "Now it's His turn."

Viva Las Vegas

2008-04-17T22:14:00.003-04:00

Daddy booked my flight yesterday for Las Vegas. Wheeeeee!

Daddy will be going out to Vegas for a little over a week, and i'll be visiting Him for the weekend, and then flying back home with Him. Hopefully, W/we will be sitting together on the flight back, but i don't know that yet.

Daddy asked me if i was excited about going...Ummmmmm, yeah! i'm excited because i'll be with Daddy; because i've never been that far west before; because it's terribly decadent to fly so far for a weekend; because it's Vegas, baby! :) Not that i gamble or have any desire to see cheesey Vegas shows, but there is a restaurant that i really want to go to, and if W/we go out to the clubs, that might be fun.

W/we won't be alone on this trip. It's a working trip for Daddy, and He'll have 2 friends with Him, and a lady companion of one of them, sharing a condo. i've never met these friends of Daddy's, i've actually only met one other friend of Daddy's, and that friend only last week. i'm very interested in what Daddy's friends will think of me...

Daddy says i have to be a "big girl" on this trip. i can't wear any of my "little girl" clothes, except for in O/our room. i asked Daddy if i was still able to call Him "Daddy", and He said i was. i'm thankful for that, cause i don't think i could call Him by His first name the entire trip without slipping. i haven't received any specific instructions for how i'm supposed to "act", but i think i'll be good as long as i try to contain the natural regression that comes over me when i'm with Him. i think it will be ok for me to be "little-er" than my chronological age, but not as "little" as i usually go.

i am nervous about embarrassing Daddy. He said that His one friend will probably ask me alot of questions, i assume about what Daddy and i do together. i'm curious to see how daring his inquiries will be...lol i'm kinda concerned about the other girl who will be there. i know nothing about her, except that she's bi. It will be interesting to see how she reacts to me and Daddy.

i think this trip will be an interesting social experiment.

Girls On Film

2008-04-13T10:24:00.018-04:00

About an hour after writing my previous entry, my girlfriend Astrid called me and said she had received some pictures from the shoot and was emailing them to me. We sat on the phone and looked through them together.

We couldn't control our excitement! We were so giddy and happy, i was literally jumping up and down! Lol i told Astrid i had blogged about our shoot, and i asked her if it was ok for me to post some of the pix on my blog, and she said it was fine with her (she's been known to read this blog every so often).

So, without further ado...:)

This one is from the very beginning of the shoot. Getting ready together was lots of fun, we used to put our makeup on and do our hair together all the time at the dungeon. It brought back alot of memories for me. :)

Astrid has the coolest shoes! i'm wearing the second collar Daddy gave me, a more utilitarian one, black leather with a steel O-ring. Kevin, the photographer, had put the lace around my eyes, Astrid loved the way ot looked, but i didn't see it until i got the pix. i love it!

Just general hotness...teeheehee. Astrid has great legs! i was telling her to shove her fingers further into my mouth. Ha!

This might be my favorite...We both look soooo good, and i love the look on Astrid's face. It seems very retro to me. Like the old bondage films from the 50's.

Okay, maybe this one is my favorite. Another great look from Astrid, really interesting composition, me on my back at Astrid's feet...see what i mean about Astrid's legs?! :)

Dominatrix in complete control...Teeheehee..."i am laani's disembodied head" (Fight Club, anyone?) ;)

This is one of the pics taken during Astrid's spanking me. She alternated between spanking, scratching, and caressing, with some licks and bites thrown in. You can sorta see my butt has some coloring...or is it just shadow?

No, no, no, this is my favorite. i like how it's a bit difficult to really tell who is dominating who...

i like this one, tho i'm not really in it. Astrid looks a bit like Louise Brookes, which i'm totally into. And my arms look skinny...ha! Boy am i glad i waxed my arms before the shoot! :)

This is an example of Kevin twisting and placing me how he wanted me. i'm not sure how i feel about this one, i like it, yet there's something about it that i don't like. Can't put my finger on it, but overall i dig it.

The grand finale. i like this one alot. Kevin is a real pro, and i didn't feel uncomfortable with him down between my legs at all. He was really into me keeping my mouth open for alot of the shoot. He kept tugging my chin down...lol. The color is great, and the angle is damn sexy. Twisted little bound girl. Is that terror or ecstasy on her face? Teeheehee.

Okay, there were a couple more, but i think that's enough egotism for one post. Feel free to offer any comments, criticisms, or outfit suggestions. Hopefully it won't be too long before Astrid and i shoot again.

Daddy is probably going to shoot with Astrid this week during my visit, but i don't know if i'll be involved with that shoot. Astrid would like me to be involved, as you can see we work really well together, so she's hoping Daddy will want me in the shoot. We'll see...i'm gonna bring stuff just in case.

He Hit Me, And It Felt Like A Kiss

2008-04-11T09:42:00.005-04:00

My bottom has received quite a bit of attention this past week.

Over the weekend i hung out with my friend Ry, the sadist, and he's developed a real taste for spanking me. He doesn't give me a prolonged spanking, i guess it would be classified more as smacks. And he smacks hard! But, Ry doesn't leave marks. He uses his smacks as "punctuation", or because he feels like it. It's not his place to punish me, and he doesn't.

The next instance of bum abuse was with my very dear girlfriend, Ms. Astrid. She and i worked together at the dungeon, until she became an independent Dominatrix. Astrid and i used to do 2 girl sessions with each other. She and i resemble each other superficially, red hair and pale skin. The clients like when we play sisters or mother/daughter. Astrid wants to advertise us as an independent Mistress/submissive team. i would only submit to her in the sessions tho.

To promo our new endeavor, Astrid and i did a photo shoot with an excellent photographer near where we live. Astrid's boyfriend ( Ed. ex-boyfriend) is also a photographer, in the sex industry, and we have plans to shoot with him also. It's terribly validating to have people want to take your picture. :)

Anyway, during the shoot, which was terribly erotic, and not at all porny, i was tossed around like a rag doll! The photographer had no problem picking me up, or twisting me around, or having me hold uncomfortable positions in order to achieve an interesting shot. i'm surprised my hair survived it as well as it did...lol

And Astrid gave me quite the sound spanking. There were many photos taken of my stinging ass. i told Astrid that since i've been such a good girl lately, my pain tolerance has gone waaaaay down. And when she began spanking me, she realized it was true. Astrid has spanked and used implements on me many times before, and she was shocked at the dip in tolerance.

It was a fun shoot, i hope to be able to have some pix soon. i might post them, too. :)

i was a bit naughty this past visit with Daddy. i'm disappointed in myself, because i have been terribly good for a very long time. i admitted to Daddy that i've been drinking after work, and that i've probably been drinking too much. It leaked over into my visit, so i needed to be disciplined. Just when Daddy got a new implement, too!!! Stupid little girl!!!

New cane to break in...Daddy warmed me up, which was very kind of Him, but i got some pretty hard whacks when the punishment began. i had to count off 15 strokes, and say "Daddy, thank You for disciplining me," after each lick. When it was over Daddy kissed my forehead and said He didn't want me drinking anymore. He says it's bad for me, and He doesn't want me slipping into that habit any further.

i'm so happy He cares enough for me to set boundaries, and to discipline me when i need it. He knows i want to be good for Him, and that i hate disappointing Him. He also knows i beat myself up for infractions, and He's very comforting after punishments. What more could a little girl want?

:D

To Dream The Impossible Dream...

2008-04-06T23:23:00.006-04:00

i have a friend, an old friend, that i've been fucking for years now. He was my first long term fuckship/friendship. We operated in this sort of nether-region of non-monogamous, reliable, passionate, intense sex. He wasn't a just a "booty call", and still isn't. It was more than sex. It would have to be, to have lasted for a little over 12 years. He even fucked me while he was living with his "fiance" of 4 years...I guess we're "friends with benefits".

Daddy knows i play with this friend of mine. Daddy encourages it, actually. Since He travels so much, leaving His little girl alone for long stretches of time, and since His little girl is such a highly sexed creature, i'm permitted to have sex with whoever i want. i think another part of it is Daddy likes to hear about it afterwards. ;)

Daddy and i have begun playing with other boys. Well, more accurately, i've been playing with other boys in Daddy's presence. Daddy watches. It was disappointing the first time; the boy was waaaay too young and completely intimidated by O/our games, tho he was informed of O/our dynamic beforehand. The second guy was a bit older and more experienced with BDSM, but was unable to muster the aggression W/we were looking for. Still, it's a game i enjoyed, and i look forward to refining O/our selection, and improving on the choice.

Which brings me to my "Impossible Dream". Like a Reese's peanut butter cup, i would love to put these 2 great tastes together. The idea of Daddy and Ry in me at the same time gives me chills. i fantasize about T/their 2 huge cocks taking me, using me, stuffing me at the same time. i would love to have Daddy hear how i can make Ry gasp and moan with pleasure. i want to have Daddy see, in person, how far i can take Ry's cock, to have Daddy see how wet i get with Ry, how Ry makes me cum so hard and for so long. i think Daddy would like to hear my moans and screams.

i imagined Ry would like it, too. He's so proud of his sexual prowess, and he rarely passes up an opportunity to fuck me. Ry and i have seriously electric sex. From the first time we ever banged to the most recent date we've had, we have always had phenomenal sex. Ry was the first guy to make me ejaculate, and the first guy i had anal with. i figured he would jump at the chance to do something kinky with me.

But it seems Ry has proprietary feelings over me. Ry still wants to be able to do things to my body that Daddy has forbidden, namely anal sex and fucking me without a condom. Ry is jealous of Daddy's rights, and it bothers him that i do what Daddy tells me. Ry thinks that i'm not the "ballsy girl I used to know". Which isn't true, particularly with him.

Ry doesn't understand why Daddy is so willing to allow others to have me. Ry said that if i was his, he'd horde me away, and not give other guys the chance to get near me. And that's a strange thing for him to say, considering when we were first together, he was a total man-slut. Ry and i have never been exclusive, in fact, except for the first months of us knowing each other, either one or both of us has been with other people, even while we continued to have sex.

Daddy allows me to play with Ry whenever i want, but He doesn't think that it's a good idea for him to play with U/us. Ry's jealousy seems to be the main reason. Daddy doesn't like that Ry's been trying to get into my ass. Cajoling and trying to make deals to achieve his goal of anal sex. Ry said he would fuck me in front of Daddy if he could do my ass. Daddy didn't like that, and that appears to have been the end of it... HaHaa

So, i have only my imagination to live out this fantasy. A pity, because it would be so goddamn hot! Daddy and Ry resemble each other superficially...dark hair, pale skin, thin athletic builds. They also resemble each other in personality, sometimes it freaks me out when i hear Ry say things that Daddy would or has said to me. They talk the same sometimes, and they're both artists, both judgmental, both intelligent and creative. They're both narcissists, concerned with appearances.

The irony is that Ry is kinda on the sadistic side. Ry enjoys giving me pain, biting, smacking, squeezing, and pounding me very hard with his prince albert pierced cock. That piercing really tears me apart. i feel it for days...Daddy is more subtle. He gives me pain, but not often, Daddy likes control not so much inflicting pain.

T/their differences and similarities all add up to an extremely fulfilling fuckfest for me, but i doubt i could ever get either one to do it. It's really is too bad...

All Apologies

2008-03-28T18:58:00.002-04:00

i don't know if i've scared the few, but very dear to me, readers i have by not being around much lately. Thank you, slut on display, for your thoughtful message. i did receive it, and it was wonderful of you to show concern.

By way of paltry explanation, Daddy and i hadn't been playing much, i was out of work, i was feeling very very low, and, frankly, i thought Daddy was on the edge of releasing me. i was very concerned, but didn't want to make it any more real to me by blogging about it. When something is upsetting me, my first instinct is to clam up about it. i'm a bit on the secretive side, for all my openness about my sex life and BDSM experiences.

But! A very important BUT, Daddy has reassured me, and i feel relatively confident about it. He still wants me, and i am still His little girl.

i'm relieved. For the life of me, i swear, i don't know what i did. Maybe it wasn't really me. Daddy's secretive, too. Daddy doesn't tell me about things that don't have to do with me. i know this, and i understand it. But i felt like He didn't want me anymore, and just wasn't telling me. i was confused and hurt. He was saying what a good girl i've been lately, and that i haven't needed to be punished in such a long time, but He was still acting like He didn't want me. What had i done?

Maybe if i had bitten the bullet and opened up to all of you, you would have told me not to worry. That people go through things the rest of us aren't always privy to, and if He says He wants you, then you just have to accept that...Maybe that's what would have happened, maybe not...

Anyway, like i said, everything appears to be back to what W/we call "normal"...teeheehee...and i just might be getting that glow back....;)

Stray Cats

2008-02-02T11:03:00.000-05:00

i was out smoking a cigarette in the backyard when a little orange kitty came up to me. He was very licky and purr-y. He crawled right into my lap, and started kneading my legs. He was so cute. When my cigarette was done, i ran into the house and called out to Daddy. i told Daddy that there was a sweet stray kitty outside, and Daddy came out to look.

The orange kitty climbed all over Daddy and licked and licked and licked. It made Daddy laugh, and i kept encouraging Daddy to keep him. But Daddy said He already has 2 kitties and can't have a third. But He said i could feed the kitty, and then i was allowed to bring him in and put him into the little girl room.

Daddy found a "good home" for him, but i'm sad i will never see the little orange cat again. >sniff,sniff<

Daddy is such a softy for strays. All of the kitties He has were "found" kitties. His newest kitty is named Sashimi and is nearly all black, and extremely affectionate. He's a naughty kitty, young, and very energrtic, but it amuses Daddy.

Daddy really has 3 kitties, because i'm His kitty ,too. Daddy lets me make a little nest of pillows under his desk when He works, and i either do computer work for Him under there, curled up at His feet. Or, sometimes, i'll just take a little catnap. It's dark under Daddy's desk, and surrounded by all that heavy wood, and Daddy's feet and legs for me to wrap around makes me feel very secure. Daddy reaches down to pet me while He works, stroking my back or my head absentmindedly.

All of Daddy's kitties are kinky. Stella, His first kitty, likes to be spanked. She's a total painslut. Sashimi loves to play with rope, and he'll watch U/us when W/we play. Loud paddle smacks don't disturb him, and he finds the spanking bench comfortable. And then there's me, and all my kinky needs.

Daddy seems to be very content with all His kitties. His kitties make Him smile, and keep Him company. He keeps them collared and cared for. Always making sure they're healthy and happy.

He's a very good owner, and we're very lucky kittes.

Smell the Magic

2008-01-28T08:18:00.000-05:00

i could smell O/our sex on my fingers the rest of the day. Every time i would lift my cigarette to my mouth, the scent of fuck filled my nose. i found myself raising my hand to my face over and over to trigger the memory of Him inside of me.

i love His smell. All of His smells. i am not repelled by the scent of His sweating body. It's Daddy concentrate. i like to burrow between His cheeks, worshipping His ass, tasteing the spicy, earthy flavor of Daddy's body. His body is intoxicating. i get dizzy. Loopy. Flakey.

i want my Daddy always.

Contentment

2008-01-20T08:41:00.000-05:00

Daddy says i have been an exceptionally good girl recently. my Daddy isn't a terribly strict Dom, and the nature of the particular type of Dom He is allows for alot of indulgences towards His little girl. So, i'm not expected to endure the types of activities that , say, kaya does. Still, it can be difficult for me sometimes, so i'm very happy to report that Daddy is very pleased with me at the moment.

i visited Daddy this week. Daddy has been sick for weeks, now, and His recent trip did a bit of a number on Him. i developed a sore throat and cough over the last weekend, so W/we were kind of the walking dead the first part of the visit.

i was a bit worse off than Daddy the first half of the visit, and He was so super sweet to me. He made me tea, and gave me meds. When W/we went to bed at night, He said i should take some NyQuil. i told Him i couldn't take it myself because i'm too little to go into the medicine cabinet, so Daddy measured and administered my medicine.

Daddy has been allowing me to help Him with His work for the past month. It's the type of thing i can do on my computer at home. When i visit Him, W/we work together, side by side. Which i absolutely love. It makes me feel like such a little girl to sit next to Daddy, and do the little tedious tasks that are so helpful to Him, but that eat into the time He needs to spend doing higher priority tasks. i get paid for this work, but i can't help veiwing it as submissive service to Him. And Daddy says it's a really big help to Him, and that i've helped Him increase His revenue greatly.

There hasn't been much "play" exactly. Between illness, travel, and me being so good, there's been no punishment. But even without bondage or beatings, the D/lg interactions continue. i must admit, i do crave a little humiliation. But i don't feel the desire to complain, i am pretty happy with whatever Daddy and i do.

my visit with Daddy this week was the longest W/we've ever had. i usually stay for a maximum 2 nights, but this visit Daddy had me stay an extra night. i was so pleased, i couldn't believe He kept me that long. i asked Him why He had me stay another day, and He said "Because I wanted you to." If anyone else gave me a "Because I said so," type answer, i would needle and question until i got more of an explanation. But when Daddy says it i'm just so happy to hear the "I want you" part, that i just smile happily and feel good about being wanted.

When i was done my work for Daddy i curled up at His feet under His big desk. Daddy brought me some pillows to make a little nest, and even gave me the heating pad so i would be warm. i didn't mean to end up giving Daddy a blowjob, i only meant to touch His legs and thighs to feel close to Him. But then Daddy became hard while i caressed Him, and Daddy took out His cock. And i don't know how to give handjobs, so i kissed and licked Daddy until He came in my mouth. That made Daddy very happy. He's very complimentary of my blowjob skills, to a superlative degree. Daddy says i give the best He's ever had, and He's said that He's difficult to get off orally. It really helps my insecurities to hear that, and i often ask Him about it, and am always hungry for His compliments.

i finally gave Daddy the New Year's present i made for Him. It was an inspired gift, in that it came to me in a flash. i wrote an account of a taboo crush i had as a very young girl, and its eventual consummation when i became much older. Daddy knew about my side of the story, but the inspired part was getting the other half of the crush to write his side of the story. I bound it all together in a book, and handmade paintings and marbelized paper, and illuminated some of the pages, and just tried to make the whole thing look very professionally and artisticallly done. You should have seen the look on Daddy's face when He saw that there was a crushee version. He was very surprised, and i think pleased.

i gave Daddy another present that night, but that one's a bit objectionable, so, unfortunately, i can't tell You about it. Daddy really really liked that present...teeheehee

Daddy isn't very big on food shopping. He does it sporadically and He's not terribly thorough when He does. i ,on the other hand, loooove to go to grocery stores. i inspect vegtables, read labels, mull over choices, compare, evaluate...i can spend hours in the grocery store, easy. i went to culinary school, and i'm a complete foodie. i think i'm turning Daddy into a bit of a foodie, too. He's very into cheese at the moment. And i introduced Him to Anthony Bourdain, knowing Daddy would enjoy his writing and personality.

There's an upside and a downside to this, tho. The upside being that Daddy loves when i cook, and is always impressed with my meals, and is shocked by what i can come up with out of what He thinks of as a barren kitchen. Daddy thinks i should compete in the Pillsbury Bake-Off, and He's completely serious about it.>laughs< The downside is that Daddy's so happy with my cooking that W/we hardly ever go out to eat. Daddy says i screwed myself since there's no need to go to a resurant when the food i make is as good, if not better than, what W/we can get out. Damn.

Well, that's my update. Not too hot and sexy an entry, but at least you all know i'm still alive! ;)
Hopefully there will be some steamier posts in the very near future.

Gone, Daddy, Gone

2008-01-14T07:50:00.000-05:00

Daddy's been gone for this past week, and i havn't had much to blog about. No fun and games. Not concentrating on my D/s.

i miss it, too. It's not my choice to feel this way. i know i'm very emotional, and the downside to feeling things intensely, is feeling things intensely. Then to be so overwhelmed by emotions they eat one's entire life up. And all of a sudden you miss the forest for the trees.

As rational as i can be about the cause and its effects, that doesn't seem to make much difference.

i wish my non D/s life would straighten out so i can get back to thinking about things that make me happy, instead of the gut wrenching worry i've been consumed with.

i miss my glow...

Daddy's Girl Part 5

2008-01-10T18:56:00.000-05:00

Oh his little princess would be a big girl soon.

His finger slipped easily yet tightly into her cunt and he felt her shiver against his body. Daddy lifted her nightgown over her head and could smell the soft innocent whiff of baby powder and unused pussy. Her eyes closed and her head lolled to the side, landing softly on his shoulder. Ah, perfect, daddy could see her from head to toe, Her cheeks were flushed and her toes were curling. Soft little mewling moans, barely audible escaped from her mouth.

Daddy worked his fingers in and out of his little girl,watching for the beginnings of an orgasm to cross her face. He found the most sensitive place inside her body and slide his fingers firmly across. The gasp from his limp princess was louder this time, and her eyes flew open and stared off into the space behind his head, as if she was completely unaware of him, all of her attention focused on some nameless area of her steamy wet cunt. She wouldn't have had words to describe it, but Daddy knew what was happening to her.

Her breathe quickened and became more shallow. He pressed more firmly into her, rubbing his leaking cock against her leg. She seemed not to notice this new gyration alongside her body. Daddy was aching and would not be able to hold out much longer, when she came ,wriggling ,almost dancing, all over his hand. Daddy was covered in her juices from fingertip to wrist.......but he still had yet to have his ultimate pleasure....

Daddy's Girl Part 4

2008-01-09T17:50:00.000-05:00

Poor pained little girl.....and daddy lifts her up to sit in his lap. He wipes the tears from her face. She's look so broken, redfaced, tearstained cheeks, trying to look into her daddy's eyes and predict what will come next. Daddy chuckles to himself quietly. Little does she know.....

He can feel the heat of her thoroughly abused ass through his pants, and his now dripping cock is wedged firmly against her thigh. He knows he'll get no resistance from her now. Even the threat of another spanking will be enough to quiet any protests he might encounter. His heart skips and he took a moment to relish the power and let it wash over him.

Mine.

On a hunch daddy reaches between his little girls thighs ,and is not too terribly surprised to find a dampness there. He slides his hand up higher, feeling the girl stiffen but offer no plea to stop. Excellent, she's ready, dripping for it. The sweet flesh of his little girl was calling for his attention, even if she didn't know it. Her little bud was hard, throbbing as insistently as his own cock. He would give her the relief she unknowingly craved. She would be all his.

Daddy's Girl Part 3

2008-01-08T09:23:00.000-05:00

He answers her unspoken question by pointing to the crumpled panties on the floor and explains she must be punished for breaking daddy's rules. With his cock pressed against his stomach ,daddy sits on the edge of the bed. His little girl shrinks a bit away, but he pulls her across his lap adjusting her so his rock solid cock is pressed against the pliant flesh of her waist. So fresh and firm, he thinks, smooth young and so easily prodded to fulfill my wishes.

Daddy covers her ass with the palm of his hand, cupping it around the sleepy warmth of her thigh relishing the feel of her awakening body. He tells her what he does for her is for her own good, she must be obdeient, and if she's going to be a naughty willful little girl she'll be punished like the child she is. Daddy puncuates each of his words with a cracking spank. It doesn't take more than 3 rough slaps to turn her ass bright red.

Daddy continued to pepper her ass with stings until his darling girl was writhing in a desperate and unsuccessful attempt to to avoid the blows. He coos into her ear that her struggling would only make it worse. Daddy can see her warring with herself, trying to determine what it would take to make daddy happy, what could she do to make up for the pain her disobedience had caused her cherished daddy........

Daddy's Girl Part 2

2008-01-06T09:54:00.000-05:00

He runs his fingers along the slit laid bare before him.So sweet, she is, so vulnerable. No match for an adult male determined to have her in every way he can think of. She'll love it, he's not worried about that.

He slips his finger between her lips and she groggily starts to suckle it, not awake but not fully asleep. That's a good sign, he thinks. He starts to slide his finger in and out, watching her lips close around it. He won't be able to take this for long. He draws out his cock and at the sound of his zipper she wakes more fully. She's confused. She looks up at him, not recognizing him at first, then she looks down at his finger now stroking her her moist velvety tongue.

She's not truly shocked until she catches sight of what daddy has in his other hand. Her mouth drops open and she lifts her eyes up to me. Now she looks scared, the confusion giving way to a realization that what she's about to experience will be a turning point for her. What is daddy going to do?

Daddy's Girl Part 1

2008-01-05T04:31:00.000-05:00

There she is, fast asleep. Her little rosebud mouth slightly opened, breathing rhythmically. Her sweet unlined face passive and unaware of her daddy's staring eyes. This is what he likes best; to creep up when she sleeping, unaware of his lust. She sleeps on her left side with her right leg pulled up almost to her chest hitching her nearly transparent white nightgown up to her hips. It gives him an undisturbed view of her slender peach shaped ass and open damp cunt.

He's told her wearing panties to bed is bad for her, and like the dutiful daughter she is, she's left them off. But wait, there they are on the floor. How many times have you told her not to leave her laundry laying around. She'll have to get a spanking for that. Just the thought of turning that little ass pink with hand prints makes his mouth water.

He walks over to the side of her bed and wipes away the hair from her face. She's so quiet and innocent like this. Disturbing that purity will be the greatest pleasure of his life. He's been priming her for weeks now, and doesn't know how he's held out for this long. Burying his cock into that soft wet flesh, making her cum for the first time, tearing away the veil of sexual ignorance and turning her into to his own personal cum whore will be easy with the proper training......

>: X

2008-01-03T23:47:00.000-05:00

i came to the realization today that i'm a shite communicator. That's a bit of a revelation to me.

i once said to Daddy that i'm always finding myself at odds with the impression people have of me. i have had people i thought knew me fairly well, give me a view of myself back to me that was completely antithetical to who i am. It shocked me.

Daddy says this happens to everyone.

i'm not nearly as open as i think i am. i keep secrets even when the secrets aren't that bad. i keep my feelings secret, i opinions secret (that one will come as a surprise to my close friends...lol), i say "no" when i mean "yes", and i don't often reveal my true motivations.

As you can imagine this leads to alot of confusion and misinterpretation.

Daddy and i don't fight exactly. Daddy's the boss. What Daddy says goes. What W/we have are "incidents" of miscommunication.

i have a tendency to forget that text messages don't convey the nuances of body language and intonation. And recently it lead to an "incident" when i was feeling pouty and sulky. It's since been cleared up, but these "incidents" always leave me shaken and unsure of my position.

Add to this the holiday bullshit, the constant money worries, Daddy being sick for the last 3 weeks, and me losing my job on Wednesday, i'm feeling really bloody low. Low, low, low.

Half a step forward, 8 steps back...