Things I haven't done yet, but enjoy thinking about:
Fantasies...part of the fun is that only some of them become real.
Spent time with some friends over the past few days who have a fairly new relationship.
My friend Z says that she and Y have sexual issues to work out, and that he's never been with anyone like her.
Talking separately with Y, it turns out he is a long-time Dominant, whose previous lovers have all been submissives--both of the strong woman outside the bedroom and the quite submissive types. He's also just a year sober and very much in love with my friend, but some of the sexual, uh, adjustments, are a little challenging for them...he's used to have toys, and play, and control be part of his sexual life in a way she doesn't like.
After a while, I shared with Y that I was exploring D/s with Z; it was interesting that we re on two sides of the cycle--Y moving away from D/s to be with Z; me moving into it with Z.
Ya never know, do you.
I spent a good chunk of this summer looking for--and meeting--Dominants I could become involved with in addition to Z, but there was no one I met I wanted to pursue a connection with, and my connection with Z is now so intense (and rewarding) I'm going to hold off on another relationship with a Dominant.
I'm fine with D/s elements in other connections--spanking, restraints, blindfolds, etc-but I am not going to give myself to anyone else in the way I have to Z--it's just impossible (for me) to have that bond with two people.
I feel good about this decision, and surprised at how well things with Z have been going.
From an uneven beginning, we've made quite a tie (forgive the pun).
We're in bed after a long night out.
I am staying over, something I rarely do.
We kiss passionately, our tongues tracing each others' mouths,
our teeth tugging on our lips, ever so gently.
"Suck my cock," Z says and I lick delicately at the tip before slipping it in my mouth.
I think about the roughness of my tongue, cloaking my teeth, and the two fingers I am pressing
against his balls as I take the shaft deep into my mouth, kissing and sucking.
z grabs my neck with his hand and pulls me toward him by my throat.
Back and forth he guides me, my neck in his hand, my throat under his fingers as his cock slides down deep.
The pressure on my windpipe is crushing and thick, but I love the minute or so Z holds me like that--and how he knows to take his hand away, after a bit.
Soon, we are fucking, my legs jackknifed, over my head, my arms stretched out against the headboard, holding the posts as he thrusts into me, one steady stab after another.
It feels so good to have him inside me, to feel my pussy tighten and bear down on him as I will him to come, the muscles tightening so hard the pressure is almost unbearable, intense.
He doesn't come; instead, he pushes me flat and puts his hand inside me, the three middle fingers thick and blunt, pushing deep into my cunt, the little finger inside the tight pipe of my ass, his thumb grazing my clit.
He pushes hard and harder, jamming fingers into me, stroking the g-spot till I want to scream, till I do scream and then explode, as wrung out as a towel.
I am so spent I cannot move.
So spent I lie flat, relaxed
--But Z is not done with me.
Under his command, I open myself again to his tongue, a probing, whispering presence that makes me feel insane.
When finally I come, I am almost begging, reluctant, filled with a power I cannot stop, one that Z will push and tease even as I scream.
"I love to see you come," he says later. "I love to see how I control you, how I can make you feel so desired. I love the fact that those hot tits and that spankable ass belong to me."
.
Over the past six months that I have been seeing Z, he's come to occupy an increasingly central role in my life.
Not only has he been my sexual mentor, he's been the most wonderful friend.
And someone I am growing to love.
Yes, for the first time since I was married, I am starting to feel love for someone else than my ex and it's just an amazing thing, because while the feelings of love and care are familiar, everything else is different--
How wonderful it is when two (sex) bloggers, say, align?
I don't know either one of them, but I thought Marvin's description of their time together was sweet...and hot.
Z is asleep in the hotel bed, arms folder, hair mussed across the pillow.
I lie beside him in the early light and think about how I ended up here, in this bed,
sated after a night of paddles and clamps, floggers and toys, followed by vigorous, happy fucking.
It was because I decided to start saying yes.
All my life, I have worried about what I should do, vs. what I wanted to do.
While I have coolly followed daring paths in my career, in my personal life I have been Ms. Measured and Practical, the good girl, the responsible one.
When my (long) marriage ended, I realized this was my chance to find myself.
I also realized that I had NO IDEA what I actually wanted.
So I started saying yes.
I met Z (online) and when he asked if I was interested in submission, I said yes.
He asked if I'd like to be tied up--and I said yes.
And then, when he spanked me, I said yes (many times--I discovered I love spanking).
The night I went out with the sadist, I said yes to the clothespins, and to the slaps,
and when I saw the other Dom, I said yes to being spanked, and then said yes to spanking with another Dom again.
And then I met the scientist and said yes to casual encounters with him, and started up my (long-distance) affair with my friend G, and then met and went to bed with V, Mr. Not Vanilla.
Suddenly, I was creating a sex life that I thought would shock my friends, but that started to feel more like who I really was, or who I wanted to become.
And now that is my life and I am living it and enjoying it
and learning there is great power in being brave enough to say yes.
(Inspired by a post by Coming Out at 48)
I never call him Master or Sir.
He's not interested in discipline.
With every scenario we've discussed, I've never said no,
but I'm only submissive in the bedroom.
And yet, when it comes to D/s, Z owns me.
There is no question, when we are together, that I feel I belong to him.
That he has control of everything
and my wish is to please him.
As for Z, his wish is to pleasure me, to show me aspects of myself that I (less experienced)
have never seen, and to deepen the intensity between us to make our relationship
as rich, as powerful, as we can make it be.
And of course, to be in control, to enjoy how I have become his slut, to see the choices I make again and again to give myself to him, to surrender, all out of passion and love.
Yesterday, Z gave me my collar, black leather and wide, with three big O-rings.
Then I modelled for him.
First, the new black corset embroidered with roses, black lace panties, black stockings and my new four-inch black high heels.
Next, the black waist-cincher garters with my black demi bra and fishnet stockings.
After that, the crotchless fishnet body suit, black thread lacing my entire body.
Finally, the dark purple lace demi bra and boycut shorts with garters and gray stockings.
Z snaps on the leash and makes me walk around the room with him.
He pulls me along like a puppy, and I hurry to keep up with him.
Now imagine me bending over as Z takes a paddle to my ass.
Imagine the fine sandpaper rubbing, hard, against the very softest white skin.
Imagine how red my bottom gets as Z smacks me, over and over.
Imagine how I moan as he pulls the collar tight and pushes me up against him, my knees on the bed.
"Hit me, hit me harder," I beg as the paddle comes down again and again, and god, it feels so good.
Now imagine that Z orders me on all fours and puts a buttplug in my ass.
Then imagine he takes a small vibrating egg and puts in inside my vagina.
He spanks me with his bare hand, his other hand working the egg.
As his fingers find their way inside me, I shudder and cry out.
The orgasms come so strong I feel like I am going to explode, feel wrung out like a washcloth and them smoothed flat to dry.
Oh, R, that was so good, that was amazing I say.
Soon, Z is beside me bed, pulling my collar so I must suck his cock.
He thrusts himself deep inside me over and over, his balls in my mouth as I grasp the shaft, rubbing and squeezing, then inside my mouth as I take him all in, as tight and deep as a swallow, a caress that is dark and wet and comes from the inside.
"Get on top, fuck me," he says, and I hurry to obey, moving his hard cock into my pussy, feeling it go just right and then we are together on the mystery pleasure ship, the wheel spinning and spinning as we bounce, as I rock on top of him, as I moan and cry out and he screams as the orgasm just ripples though him and into me and once again we are holding together, completely in sync, drained of everything but the pleasure that's burned into our intensity, the softness with which we kiss.
When it comes to a Dom, I think Z is the one.
We had the most wonderful weekend.
I am going to spend the weekend with Z--in a hotel!
I love sex in hotels, but my ex didn't like to travel with me--and he didn't
like nice hotels, either.
Z is packing all his toys and we are going to spend the afternoon in bed.
Then we are going to go out to supper and the theatre.
I am imagining that I will ask Z what he would like me to wear, and that
he will watch as I get dressed in my lingerie, garters, fishnets, heels, clothes.
And that he will make me wear a buttplug or some other thing when we go out.
I love that idea.
I also know that somewhere on my body, probably my well-spanked ass, there will be bruises or finger marks that show.
And that no one will know, besides us, about these secrets we share.
And I love that, too.
24 hours away with Z.
No computers or email.
No blogs.
Just me and just him.
Grrr.
There is nothing vanilla about a man who wants (needs) a butt plug and a pocket rocket vibrator inserted in his ass so he can come when I jerk him off.
Nothing vanilla about someone whose secret fantasy is blowing a guy, preferably one he's been watching screw his woman.
And nothing vanilla about someone whose favorite bad for you pasttime is visiting strip clubs, or happy ending masseuse parlors.
Yep, that's what I learned about V last night.
Along with the fact he has issues with being inside a woman, let alone coming inside her.
My plans for a second guy in the kinda vanilla but really likes to screw category got shot to hell by this puppy, who's more of the I'm a mess, kinkster waiting to happen, in therapy with two therapists cause I am conflicted about my desires tip.
Need I say the sex was pretty unsatisfying?
Or that I was really disappointed?
We had a great talk.
I fessed up my other guy is a dominant, and we talked about exploring your desires, giving yourself permission to experiment, etc.
I wondered if he'd like to submit--removing control might remove some of his issues, as he called them.
I suggested he should hire a guy and act out his fantasies safely and see what he thought.
But at the end of the day, the sex was eh on my end.
I like this guy, a lot, but I like having great sex even more, so I think I am going to see him couple more times, see what develops, and if the sex doesn't inprove, confess what a sex maniac I am and move on.
"I became his cocksucker and he taught me the erotica of his fist."
--Clayton Holiday on coming out fully in his first male-male relationship.
A great post about facing--and expressing--your desires, something I think about a lot.
Also: see Coming Out at 48
30 days ago, I was debating whether to forgive Z.
Then I made a leap into a new level of D/s and intimacy with him.
I also realized that--like Jefferson--I do not want to be monogamous right now.
I want to have multiple relationships--two or three (okay, maybe four) and be honest about it and not sneak around.
I also realized that as much as I like being submissive to Z I could enjoy--just in fun--dominating someone else.
When I was making love with V (new guy) a few days ago, I pinned his hands down above his head as I hovered over him--it was only a moment, but it felt good. I enjoyed the power of having control, just for that moment, and imagined taking it further before I bent over to lick his balls.
As I've grown into my singleness (slowly) over the past few months, I've realized that my sexuality is a core part of who I am, and something I've neglected until now.
Now I feel like it's something that is flowering, blooming, full of interest and pleasure and power.
(to be continued)
We're naked, on my bed, our skin glowing against the white sheets and pillows as dusk falls.
I'm on all fours, bent over his cock, delicately licking the deep pink tip before taking it full into my hungry mouth.
V lies back, almost purring, his hand gripping the hair at the back of my head, pulling me down as I suck the tip and let my fingers tease the ridges of skin along his balls.
The pre-cum glistens as I lift my mouth from his cock, and he almost gasps as I enfold his cock in my breasts, rubbing the skin slowly up and down.
I am able to flick my tongue over the tip as he rides between my breasts, flick my tongue on the shaft as I grasp the base and rub, flick my tongue on his balls as I consider putting a finger in his ass and decide, not.
V is vanilla, not into D/s and unaware of my special quirks.
He is my experiment, a nice healthy man to fuck, only it turns differently than I'd planned.
For one thing, V is on drugs--the kind that make it hard to come.
For another, V's cock is somewhat small--not the big dick I'd fantasized about filling me up.
But V is a sweetie, with smooth, warm skin, big strong hands, and a wonderful tongue he likes to stick in all sorts of warm places.
He's an enthusiastic kisser, able not to bite, and when he puts his fingers inside me and rubs the g-spot as he licks me with that talented tongue, I want to sing glory hallelujah.
Only V may not come (my ex had this problem), so how can I reciprocate?
Patty writes about the perfect spanko, but it's just as true for a straight-on dom--or any sexual partner--isn't it?
You gotta communicate.
She says: "Above all I guess I just want to say that there is no perfect spanker man, a guy who can just intuitively tell you that you need a spanking because you need one. Not in your house or in mine. What there is, is your partner. The guy you cut from the herd and fell in love with. If you’ve gotten him to come into your fantasies and try on spanking with you, you are so far a head of the game. So many others can’t get that, end up dismissed, or even demeaned and belittled for trying, or are terrified to try. You have to help him and teach him the signals that you need a spanking so he can confidently tell you so when the time is right."
We're fucking.
I'm astride him, riding his cock, my breasts bouncing in the air.
His hands rake my breasts, come up to slap my face, pull and tweak my nipples.
I feel myself close down around his cock, grip him hard, squeezing so tight as
the pain turns to pleasure.
Ride me, you fucking slut, my big breasted fucktoy, he stammers. Ride my cock.
We come, first me and then him, waves of pure feeling, release, and it feels so good,
so natural, so much the two of us in sync.
Later, we lie on the sweat-soaked bed, naked, talking.
Z looks into my eyes.
"I think about rope and tying you up. I want to tie you on all fours with your ass in the air, your arms bound hand to elbow, your ankles tied together," he says, "I want you to be completely exposed to me, gagged and blindfolded. I'm going to put a butt plug in your ass and a dildo up your cunt. And then I'm going to suck on your clit, and suction it till it's big and sensitive.
And I'm going take some of that lube that gets hot and put it there and blow on it till you can't take the sensation.
And then I'm going to lick you with my tongue, tease you until you want to come and bury my
face in your pussy."
As he talks, I start to get excited. "Z, can I touch myself?" I ask.
"Yes. "
My hand creeps between my legs, fingers making wet, stroking circles.
Umm, I say, that sounds good.
"Yes, you'll love it when I do that, wont' you?" he says."And then I'm going to take out the butt plug and I'm going to fuck your ass, first with a dildo and then with my cock. I'm going to rape it because it belongs to me, just like you do."
My hand is between my legs, touching myself as I listen to him.
Six months ago--even four--I would have left the room if anyone said anything like this to me; now, with Z, I know I will do everything he suggests.
"Get down and suck my cock," he commands. "Worship it."
I can taste myself on his skin as I take him in my mouth,
smell our past love-making as I run my tongue along the shaft,
tease his glans so lightly with my teeth.
I press my breasts together and wrap them around his cock, teasing him with the erect tips, then burying him deep inside my mouth.
"Fuck me," he orders, and I am astride him again, he's thrusting up from under me, pounding and hard, and my brain says I can't take this and I realize how tired I am, how spent, and how it doesn't matter, I am going to keep going until I give Z what he wants.
