Spanking Class

We're in the city, at spanking class, watching a young pro domme --let's call her Starfire--instruct on the art of spanking.
Her model is her slave, a tall, young transsexual with cute little breasts (think two small apples), long, limber legs, and tiny pink lace panties under a miniscule schoolgirl shirt(let's call her Candy).
"One of my favorite holds is to put your partner over your knees, but take your inner leg and cross it over your body, pinning him or her down," Starfire says. "You can then grab your partner around the shoulders, or if you're into SM, by the scruff of the neck (she demonstrates).
"And then you can vary your strokes, touching the flesh as it reddens up, managing the rhythm to suit the occasion--and your mood."
Starfire puts Candy through her paces, and we learn all the spanking positions:

• OTK (over the knee)
• OTK with cross leg hold
• Standing (two positions)
• Lying down (three positions)

We then learn about positions of the hands, where to hit on the ass, spanking other body parts (genitals, breasts), and so on.

At the end of the class, there's a Q&A.

I ask about how spankers can minimize and avoid brusing and marks and I am incredibly amused when the whole room erupts into a discussion of the homeopathic medicine Arnica.

"I take Arnica internally all the time," says one beefy guy with a submissive's collar and a heavy set girl friend.

"Rub Arnica on the bruises," councils another woman, who later accosts me to offer relationship counseling.

Naive as I am, the idea that the BDSM community has its own set of herbal and homeopathic remedies to address marks, bruises, cuts, falls, etc. is as surprising as it is practical...And of course, I am rushing off to pick some up today.

What I know about me and Andre

It could be that he's the one I've been looking for, and that he arrived when I didn't know I was searching.
Or it could be that we will have an amazingly delightful stretch of time and go on to other things and people--it is just too soon to tell.

But here's what I do know:

• He can take me over and over, his hands rubbing my g-spot in a way that make me squirt buckets across the bed.
• When I suck his cock, I like to lick the opening in the head; it's like a little mouth filled with pre-cum I can kiss,tease, and touch.
• His teeth on my breast feel so good; my nipples hardening as he catches them just so, inflicting the most delicious pain.
• When he spanks me, his big hands hit me just right, over and over, and at the same time I want to cry, I feel this amazing peace, a flowing into sub-space that is so soothing, so calm.
• Lying together in bed, we fit just right.
• His smile in the morning makes my heart sing.
• We have no problem talking about sex--and even love--between ourselves and other people.

"I love how you give yourself to me," he says (this is not a very cruel Dom, but all Dom none the less)."And I love the feeling of controlling you."
"And I love giving myself to you," I respond. "I want you to feel you own me." (I don't say I want you to own me because I think he has to come to that.)

Fly me to the moon

Mmmmnnn, nice.

Graydancer, Alegra and K go at it, with grace, charm and edge.

Andre

Andre is on his way over to my place--a long drive through lots of rush hour traffic.
He'll be here for two night--tomorrow night we have no plans, except to hang out and enjoy one another.

When we got together last weekend, I stripped, then put on the black hood and the new O-ring collar he bought me. It looked so hot! Especially as I knelt and sucked his cock, and then when I knelt over him and strapped the leather cock ring on.

Mnnnnnnn...I anticipate lots of soaked towels.

Grinding it

It's the weekend and Andre's taken me to a party with his friends. His vanilla friends, I mean--not the one's who saw me get hung up on the St. Andrew's Cross with big black cuffs and flogged into sub space, but the ones down at the cafe, the hanging on the porch friends from his town and bike riding trips.

It's Saturday night and we're out with said friends, couples, mostly, at a local bar, having a party of our own with the three-piece disco band that's wailing away on their horns, synth percussion and canned music.

The band is smoking, Andre and I are shaking our butts, and it's all good.
And then Olivia Newton Skank comes over to chat.

5' 8, big boobs, round butt, straight black bangs, ONSK dances like a stripper who's waiting to get back to the pole and she's been on the floor near us all night, shaking it with her date and some girl friends.

Now. she sails over to me.

"You are just so cute," she says."Such a good dancer, and so hot!"

"Thanks," I say, smiling a little as I turn back to Andre.

Twenty minutes later, she's over again. "Hey, I just have to dance with you...I keep watching you and you're so sexy...."

What the hell I think and I say "Okay," smiling slightly as I follow her into the center of the dance floor and into the juicy joyfulness of the Ohio Players, Kool and the Gang and the rest of the funk this band is throwin' down.

Skank Girl is shaking her melons in my face and making kissy lips at me; I', doing the bump against her thigh, hitting my shoulder and then my ass in perfect time to the (second) beat.

Soon, we're doing the dirty grind, crunking hard, and I know the whole room is watching the spectacularly sexy, powerfully controlled dance I'm doing against girlfriend's thighs, and the knee-popping, down-lo shamking Shanky Girl is doing round me.

We are hot, I know it, and if I suggested she come home with Andre and me, she'd agree in a flash, but she looks like she's been ridden too hard to be my type, and besides, her breasts are definitely fake (and, for all my bravado, I've never done a girl, not if you don't count some messing around at eighteen).

"Take it easy," I say and stride back to Andre, pleased as punch with my wild display.

"It's you she wants,not me," he says, as we start dancing again, my body small against this big man's side. I'm smiling and shaking it and all of a sudden Skanky Girl is back, griding against my shoulder so I'm suddenly the middle of a sandwich between her and Andre.

"Help" and "Get me out of here" I mouth to Andre, but he just laughs.

"Ohhhh,sweetie, you're so cute,"she says, leaning down and hugging me,.

I think Damn as I pull myself away, letting the intensity of the moment pass, amused that this is happening in the vanilla world, with a girl at the local bar, and not at a play party, an orgy or a club.

Damn, I tell myself,watching her walk back to the bar, damn, damn, damn, I could have taken that woman home tonight and that is just so freakin' odd.

Oh, the joy of Jane's Guide

What a thrill tonight to see that always aroused girl has written a review of my blog for Jane's Guide, the porn and erotica directory.

AAG says: Beautiful writing and sexy adventures. A blog not to be missed.

thank you thank you thank you!!!

Graydancer moves me

Here's truth plainly spoken by Graydancer that sings in my heart:
"One benefit of this breakup: I no longer have to dance around separating the fact that I was in love with both of them, separating this feeling from that feeling. I can just sit there and say yeah, for a long time, I was really lucky, and I got to love both of them. And that's the way it was."

Why is it that once we have lost everything, we can be reborn? And know our feelings for what they really are (or were?)

No one sent me flowers today

No one sent me flowers today.

No one made red roses bloom as their tongue plunged into my warm lips, the dark pink folds of my cunt.

No one sent me flowers today.

There were no kisses, and no hugs,
No hands tracing a line down my back
and smacking me hard, on the ass,
no long fingers circling my throat like a collar,
a butterfly caress.

No one sent me flowers today.

No one came over to bite and kiss and tug and rub.

No one sent me flowers today.

Black roses, white, or red,
scattered pink blooms fluttering across my bed
the secret smells of passion and love.



Valentines Day, 2007

Update on two lovers

So I am back to the two lovers tip: D, my long time attached lover, and Andrew, my new dominant lover. I have no time for anything else--but it's good.

One night, I'm with D. "Fuck me, you slut," he pants. "I'm shoving my cock into your wet, juicy pussy."

The next night I'm with Andre. "I own this," he growls, grabbing my pussy with his big, wide hand. "Mine."

I have a yellow bruise on my breast tonight from Andre slapping my breasts as I rode him, grinding my pussy against his cock as we talking about how much we wanted to fuck.

And my lips are sore from kissing D, who cuddled against me late the previous night, whispering "I hope you're in my life for a very, very long time."

The best thing is that--unlike Z--these two men know about one another and seem okay with it, perhaps even fine with it.

One's the Dom, the other's not, and there seems to surely be enough to share.