Sunday, 27 January 2013

I love it when she holds my cock

Last week hubby and I took a few photos to show off my new nail polish. We liked different ones, so I asked him if he would write this week's post. I've asked him to contribute before and he always said no, but not this time. Imagine my surprise when this is what I got from him, complete with his choice of photo and even formatting! I am a very lucky girl, thank you Nic!


I love it when she holds my cock 

Sometimes she grabs it,
Sometimes she rubs it,
Sometimes she just holds it in her fist. 


I trust her to treat it well,
I let her do with it what she wants.
I force it into her mouth,
I rub it across her face,
And deny her its pleasure. 

But I love it when she holds my cock.
Just don't tell her how much I do,
Or it might just get to her head.

This post was selected as part of this week's Sinful Sunday weekly round-up by guest reviewers Jack and Jill, to see more sexy piccies clickety click...

Sinful Sunday

Wednesday, 23 January 2013

Waving Art

I am a big fan of waving, I wave to people even when I am on the phone and I know they can't hear me. It is personal, fun, kind and warm. It represents affection and closeness.

Of course, some people wave formally by raising their hand in a slight gesture, or the Queen of England who has a weird reverse hand wave, almost a "get away from me you pleb" type of thing.

My waves, though, are enthusiastic and jolly. If you get a full hand wave or a cute four-finger bowing wave from me, it is because I like you and am pleased to see you.

But, when I think of waving, I also think of the artist Spencer Tunick.

If you don't know him, you have probably seen or heard of his work. He makes art installations using naked people in public, whether it is just one person or thousands.

He has been commissioned to make art around the world. Yet, because the naked form is considered immoral and illegal, Spencer has been arrested five times in New York. As such, he has not been able to make his art in America for ten years.

His art embraces the human form in different shapes, sizes and colours. It recognizes that all people are the same and individual and form part of the broader landscape of nature and the human-made world. Spencer's work plays with sexuality and gender, global warming, freedom, and a whole range of "big" issues, while taking the human form back to its basic state.

Mainly though, I love it because it is happy. People enjoy exploring what it is like to be naked in a group. They have to challenge themselves. As Spencr said of the installation in front of the Sydney Opera House (see the video below): "It was difficult to get the straight participants to embrace the gay participants and vice versa,"  but they did embrace! In Spencer's installation, people have to dive in and go for it and ultimately, they all end up waving and smiling! I love it!

Enjoy the video and smile :D

This post was made for Wicked Wednesday, with the prompt "wave."

Sunday, 20 January 2013

Can Terrifying Be Cute?

So then, I have a foot phobia to the extent that feet are one of my hard limits. To try and overcome this I decided to add a couple of tasks to my 101 Things to do list. One of them was 'Try to overcome my foot phobia by painting my toenails.' I have NEVER done this before!!! So Friday, this is what I did. It felt gross. Yesterday, most of the times I saw my toes I freaked out. But once or twice I though 'pretty color.' Today I may have thought they looked cute once ... but they still creep me out. Maybe I should try painting them again some time. Anyway, have some proof of my *cough, splutter* bravery.

This post was made for Sinful Sunday, clickety click for far sexier images!
Sinful Sunday

Saturday, 19 January 2013

Understanding Sex and Emotions in Relationships (Part Two)

In the first part of this blog post I talked about the three kinds of love I most easily recognize in my relationship history: Philia, a loving friendship; Eros, a passionate love; Agape, Companionate Love. Even here, however, it isn’t that simple because a relationship may include two of these with or without sex. To explain myself a little clearer what follows is a result of my self-reflection, particularly for the benefit of understanding my polyamorous feelings. 

Of course, all but a few of these are “in hindsight” and as such, they are clouded by events long-since past and all manner of other fuzzy influences on the mind! 

Another thing, it is worth noting that of the following relationships, not all of them would still interest me, especially the first two… 

  • Casual sex - one night stands
  • Friends With Benefits - ongoing physically sexually intimate relationships with people I care about and want to spend time with because I like them as people but not with a strong emotional connection
  • Philia With Benefits - friends I have physical relationships with and whom I love as friends but not necessarily as a partner (“to date”). In my experience this is extraordinarily hard for people to understand. I wonder if I would be able to do this again, it is hard to explain to someone the differences between loves and when sex is added into the mix things get messy irrespective of whether or not I have been honest about my love for the person. The person I shared my virginity with was a friend like this. We dated for two years, I broke his heart.
  • Philia Without Benefits - friends I love deeply but do not want to “date” or have sex with. This is a truly astounding sort of friendship, and in my personal history very rare. I can probably name only five like this. Friends whom I truly love but have never shared any physical connection. This is perhaps because when I meet a person I always consider them sexually before anything else, almost subconsciously. I have since I was a teenager. In a future blog I will try to explain it.
  • Eros Without Benefits – people with whom I have wanted to be physically intimate and “date,” yet for some reason it could not or did not happen.
  • Eros With Benefits - To be honest, with me this is the kind of relationship that tends to be governed by New Relationship Energy and never lasts more than three months. It is something I learnt to control a long time ago and now I no longer suffer this kind of situation. They are enormous fun but also emotionally draining and an easy way to get yourself into difficult situations. Alas, I find this the easiest sort of love and relationship to come by.
  • Eros and Philia With Benefits – Other than my husband, the two longest relationships I have had have had this, although with one of them the Eros fizzled out quite quickly. The other lasted almost the entire five years of our relationship (the second longest, other than with my husband). When the Eros left it didn’t take long for us to break up. We have been close friends ever since – for almost fifteen years now! So close in fact that the penultimate sort of loving relationship I will describe I share with him.
  • Agape and Philia Without Benefits - I've had this twice. One I just mentioned and one with a man I deeply adore but with whom I can never have a relationship in the traditional sense, much to both of our sorrow (he is a married vicar…).
  • Agape and Philia With Benefits – I have this with my husband Nic. I have only ever had it with him. Magically, in the last few months Eros has been developing between us. Something I find truly exceptional after ten years together (we met almost eleven years ago to the day). I hope in the coming months I will be able to add “Agape and Philia and Eros With Benefits.” Either way, Agape is the hardest of loves to find and it is a special thing to share it with my husband. I am extraordinarily lucky.
So, this has been long-winded and I doubt anybody made it this far (gold star if you did!). But, it has been a useful exercise and that is what self-reflection is for. Before I go, I want to say:
  • Just because I do not have Philia for a person, does not mean that I am not friends with a person.
  • Just because I do not have Eros for a person, does not mean that I do not want to fuck them.
  • Just because I do not have Agape for a person, does not mean that I do not enjoy hanging out watching DVDs with them.
Love and friendship and sex is a many wondrous and complicated thing!

Thursday, 17 January 2013

Understanding Sex and Emotions in Relationships (Part One)

It has been a long time since I have written anything about my polyamory, I think that needs to change now. This is the first post of many I am planning in the coming weeks.

One of the oddest things about polyamory is the way that simple definitions don’t work. When in a monogamous relationship, the assumption is always that we are “just good friends,” “friends with benefits,” “dating,” “serious,” “living together,” “married.” All of these statements are about status. They say little about feelings or sexual connections. One assumes, based upon the status of the couple, what the emotional and physical relationship is, but that is total nonsense. Plenty of married people can’t stand each other, and plenty of “friends with benefits” have at least one party in love with the other. Of course, most monogamous people realize this, especially in an active conversation, but it isn’t the standard passive assumption.

Hardwired poly folk (as opposed to people who find themselves in a poly situation), have a constant awareness and an ongoing internal and external process. We don’t define relationships in the same way as mono people because we actively know, accept, explore, and live with our feelings for other people. We are also far more aware of the changing nature of relationships, probably because we so actively know there are different types of love and different ways of feeling love for people at the same time.

As part of my exploration of my own polyamory I looked at my past relationships and tried to explore them through the idea of love and sex. It was insanely complicated and I don’t think I could ever do it full justice, but I tried.

To begin with, such an exploration needs to recognize different types of love. If you do a Google search for “types of love” you find schematics of four, five, ten, fifteen and no doubt more if you can be bothered. For me, in my own world, I keep it simple with three sorts: Philia, a loving friendship; Eros, a passionate love; Agape, a companionate love (for the Greek scholars out there, many apologies for simplifying and appropriating such complex terms!).

Philia: This is when I love a person and want to spend time with them because they make me laugh, challenge me, entertain me, please me. And I want to do the same for them. It is based on mutual respect, loyalty, and appreciation.

Eros: This is what is often meant by being “in love” with someone. I hate the phrase because it seems so unrealistic, so juvenile, so insignificant. Yet, it is also handy. For me, it is a kind of love that transmutes and becomes something else, perhaps even dissipating completely. I have often confused New Relationship Energy with Eros, with being “in love.”

Agape: This is the kind of lasting love, a love that is ongoing and comfortable. For me, it is the love that gives me inner peace. It is when I can sit on a sofa with someone for hours while we do our own thing and never needing to say a word. It is when I can make dinner with someone and we both know what we need to do without speaking. It is the kind of love that makes me want to take afternoon walks with a person, see the world with them, and never lose them. It is unconditional and rare.

There are, of course, dozens of ways to categorize and analyze my relationships and my sorts of loving experiences, but these are the kinds of love I experience. One of the greatest difficulties is to recognize and acknowledge these feelings to others. How, for example, did I tell my husband that I never experienced Eros for him? Although in the last few months this has truly been developing; such a wonder to develop the most transient sort of love after ten years! From another angle, how many fuck buddies would really understand that I loved them in the sense of Philia, but not even Eros, especially when we were often so much more than fuck buddies? Most would be confused.

Emotions are complex and we need to explore them for our own mental well-being. What, how, and when we share our feelings should also be for our own mental well-being, and only by being honest with ourselves can we develop this concept.

In the second part of this blog post, I will explore the different types of relationships I have had, and, simple it isn’t!

Wednesday, 16 January 2013

Something I Love About Myself

One of my tasks on the 101 Things to do in 1001 Days is to finish writing the 30 Days of Truth meme. Now, most of these will never see the light of day because they are too personal and break my heart. But this one, I thought I would post it.


Day 02 : Something you love about yourself

How not to seem like an arrogant tool? Hmmm, I love myself. I really do. I don’t think I’d love me if I met me, but as far as who I am, I pretty much love me. What do I love best? That is tricky.

I think, if I had to pick one thing, it would be my self-awareness and my knowledge that I’m not perfect and I must constantly work at growing and developing as a person. We all change, people we meet change us, work, small happenstances in the street, major illnesses, the weather, everything. I love the fact that I know this and as a result am constantly questioning and wondering and pushing myself to be the best and the happiest I can be. That makes me better and I think it makes the world a little better. That last bit, about making the world a better place … that is probably the second thing I would say I love about me. I am an idealist and want everyone to be happy. I do whatever I can to help move that along, without sacrificing myself in the process. Happiness is important, and I wish more people would find out what makes them happy and how they can achieve that.

Can I say a third thing I love? Of course I can, it’s my blog. I love my boobs. They’re awesome! Here is a photo of them (in a very ill-fitting bra – the shame!) to prove it.

Truth level: Total, there is nothing here I wouldn’t say to anybody else, quite literally, I can often be seen in conversations grabbing my boobs with pride *grin*


This was posted for Wicked Wednesday. I missed the prompt totally this week, but never mind. To see more wicked things, whether simple or extravagant, raunchy or subtle, clickety click


Sunday, 13 January 2013


"Texture is the most enduring and ubiquitous underpinning of form... certainly a calming, meditative and appealing world for both the eye and mind." (Lynda Lehmann)

To see other sexy images clickety click

Sinful Sunday

Wednesday, 9 January 2013

101 Things in 1001 Days: The Launch

“I’m making a list of 101 things that I want to do in 1001 days … including the naughty stuff” This was Tweeted by @SexwithRose on the 30th December 2012. I was encouraged to do the same thing by @RebelsNotes, and so the journey to the center of the abyss begun – like all good things, while I was in bed!

This idea seemed particularly perfect for right (here, right) now because many changes are afoot in my life, many more than those I discuss on my blog. My list includes everything from getting my hair cut to having sex in a car (I licked someone’s cock in a car once about twenty years ago, but I don’t really count it, my dad caught us, whoops!).

Some of the items on the list are very personal and private so I haven’t fully described what they are (and I won't tell you which ones are in code!). As for why the items are on the list, well that is for me to know and … oh, all right then, twist my arm. Have a couple of explanations …

“Go to a nudist beach” This seems pretty easy for someone happy to go to the toilet in front of total strangers, but nope. I really hate sand! It gets everywhere and is uncomfortable. Also, it is tricky finding someone willing to go with me. Maybe hubby will, just for the hell of it.

“Finish the 30 days of Truth (not necessary to post)” Why would I complete a blogging meme and not post the answers to the prompts? For my own growth. I started answering the prompts before I started the 30 Days of Kink meme, but it became very emotionally raw and too intense to post so I gave up with it. Writing it was valuable though, so I will finish the prompts and perhaps some of them may even end up on the blog.

Return to volunteering in a social role” Since I was 11 (yes, eleven), I have been a volunteer. This has never, ever stopped. I cannot recall a time where I have not volunteered. The problem is, for the past eight years this volunteering has all been for professional purposes. I have organized events, networks, meetings and all sorts of other things. I have represented women and young people until I was blue in the face. I have done all manner of necessary and important things that I (mostly) enjoyed, but they were also not very useful for society in the broader sense, more for the disenfranchised members of an elite group. It is time I returned to volunteering with children or older people or people with (learning) disabilities or animals, or perhaps now with some other community groups. Working with sexuality campaign groups or something more relevant to my current lifestyle may be the way forward. Donating money to charities and ranting on the internet just doesn’t cut it anymore!
Have sex with someone other than myself every day for a month (online sex and phone sex counts)”. It has been many years since I had sex with someone every day for a month, although I did come close back when I was mucking about with James. I want to have a go at getting this fixed. I don't think hubby would be up for 30 days of sexing with me, but I am sure I can pull together a couple of online pals to play with. But I do have three years, so maybe if I wait a couple his ever growing sex drive will match mine eventually.
So, where is the rest of this list, over here on its own special page: 101 Things in 1001 Days
If you have any questions about it do ask, and if you are inspired to make your own let me know!


This post was written for Wicked Wednesday, clickety click for other interesting stories, poetry, and a healthy dose of porn!



Monday, 7 January 2013

Tea and Spoons Part Four (Erotica)

Yes, Yes, late again. Anyone want to punish me? If you haven't read them, or want to read them again, the previous parts are her: One, Two, and Three


Tea and Spoons
Part Four

The doorbell rang with Charlotte smirking at Jon as his cock reacted to the giant dildo in front of him. “Such precision timing! Jon, get the door.” Jon looked down at himself then, mild panic brushed through him, quickly replaced with excitement and an eager enthusiasm to serve. It felt different and new and special.

The man at the door was a giant, well over six feet tall, a good few inches taller than Jon, and wide. Very wide with muscles that stretched his neatly pressed shirt. He was beautiful with dusky blonde hair and green eyes that looked right passed him. “Charlotte, my love, you look gorgeous. The dinner is ready in the van, the boy should get it.”

Without even looking at Jon, Charlotte said “Boy, this is Bobby, you will call him Sir. Do as he says.”

“Yes Ma’am” He spat the words out, feeling jealous and curious and angry all at the same time.

“Now, boy, don’t speak to your Mistress in such a tone. Go to the van, in the back is a large box. Bring it in and follow the instructions on the lid. Oh, and put some shoes on before you go outside, these should do it.” Bobby went into his bag and pulled out a pair of red knee length boots. They had a slight heel and were laced up the front. Jon knew he should say “yes sir” but he felt slightly sick and tears (of sadness, anger, shame, fury, he had no idea) were threatening to fall.

The boots fit perfectly, of course they did.

When he opened the front door it was twilight and warm. A nervousness about getting caught ate into him, but it was easier to comply than fight and end up having to do it anyway. As he leant into the van and his lacy dress rose above his arse, exposing it to the air, he heard the neighbors leave the house laughing and joking. They must have spotted him because suddenly it was silent, then some coughing and hurried footsteps before the car left. His face burnt a bright red and he was grateful they hadn’t seen it.

The box was heavy. When he took it into the house Charlotte and Bobby were nowhere to be seen, but he could hear them laughing and chatting, but the words were jumbled and he couldn’t understand a word. Once or twice he heard footsteps going up and down the stairs. Occasionally he heard a groan of pleasure and his stomach twisted in knots.

The instructions were simple enough. The box contained a fully prepared steaming hot meal. It would seem Bobby was a chef of some sort. Jon had to prepare the dining table for two but serve everything onto plates for three. He had to take his boots off (that was written into the instructions, just how planned was this event?) and call out when everything was ready. He did so.

Charlotte and Bobby entered the dining room and sat down.

“Boy,” Bobby spoke with a deep American accent, Jon wasn’t sure how he hadn’t noticed that already. It was clipped and his voice was practically scraping gravel. “Bring us our dinner.”

Jon did as he was told.

“Good boy, now for your hard work, you may share our table. Get your dinner plate, quickly before it gets cold.”

Jon did as he was told.

“Now, boy, you may eat with us, between us in fact. On the floor, under the table, between our feet, like the scum you are.”

He almost burst into tears. He didn’t know this man, although he suspected who he might be, surely Bobby wasn’t his real name. It was all too much to bear. Shame and humiliation ate at him as he sat under the table. His throat constricted making it almost impossible to eat. He heard the two laughing and chatting, sometimes about mundane ordinary things, sometimes they were teasing each other. Four times Jon heard them talk about him, when this happened they pointedly spoke louder and in clearer, crisper tones. Each time Bobby asked: “He seems to be doing well, should we reward him?” Each answer Charlotte gave was different: “No, I thought I heard a whimper earlier, he has no humility.” And “No, he is only interested in his own pleasure.” And “No, he has not yet learnt to reflect on his own wants and needs and desires.” Jon cried then, he tried to cry silently but he knew he failed. What seemed like an eternity later, but must have only been five minutes, Bobby asked the question the fourth time. “Yes, I believe he has learnt something, a little reward would be good.”

At that, Charlotte opened her legs. What he thought were thick black tights were actually stockings, leading to her completely bare, naked pussy. She was so wet she glistened and the skirt beneath her was damp. Jon could smell her. He groaned loudly, desparate to taste her, to lick her. His hand reached out to stroke her but he pulled it back before he did, to avoid further punishment. He wanted her so badly his cock was dripping wet, he stroked it idly. And just like that, almost as if she knew, Charlotte closed her legs, moved the chair back and stood up.

“Now, Bobby, shall we retire to the lounge?”

“Excellent plan. Boy, come with us. Leave the plates. You will be cleaning them tomorrow.”

Jon ached when he stood up. He had to stretch himself, move his body to relax the muscles. He caught both Charlotte and Bobby admiring him and put it down to a win for him.

The brief pleasure from that vanished as soon as he entered the living room. Charlotte and Bobby had already sat on the sofa next to each other. Snuggling. (They were snuggling? What?) In front of Bobby was a footstool, one of those that rocks forward and backwards slightly. Wrapped around it was what looked like a belt, except standing up from a hole in the middle was the giant dildo Charlotte had been holding earlier. It was shining, glistening with lube and next to the dildo was a bottle of lubricant.

Jon seriously considered leaving then, calling “Red.” He had fantasized about being humiliated so many times, but when it came to it, he really wasn’t sure this was for him. He felt sick. He felt used. He felt ashamed. He felt disgusted with himself. And yet, and yet ... He had never felt this desparate in his life, this needy with want. If he had to beg and lick this strange man’s feet he knew right then he would do it.

“Start the DVD, boy. Then you know what to do.” It was Bobby who spoke.

“Yes, sir.”

The DVD that started was porn, a whole mixture of bodies of different sizes, shapes, genders, and colors playing in a lavish Edwardian style house in a confusing mix of scenes. Jon wanted to watch, but returned to the sofa. He looked at the stool and, picked up the bottle of lube.

“Turn around, bend over, I want to watch you lube yourself up.”

Jon heard the man undo his fly, he heard the man touch his cock as Jon filled his hands with slippery liquid. He smeared it on his arsehole. He easily put the first finger in. Then the second. Knowing that two people were behind him, watching, made him want to put on a show. He groaned as the third finger slid in and he started stretching his own arsehole. His legs wobbled, but he managed to stay upright. He touched his prostate, pushing it, pressing it, feeling the ecstasy roll through him. His legs buckled then and he nearly crashed into the floor.

“Enough! Face me, boy and sit down.”

Jon caught the look in Sir’s eyes, he saw lust and desire and want. For a moment they shared that, then Bobby looked at Charlotte and kissed her with a passion he had never seen before. Jealousy and lust caught him. He wanted to lean over and join in, he wanted to run his hands over their bodies and be touched by them, be kissed like that. He wanted it all.

“Really, Jon, have you learnt nothing?” Charlotte spoke then, with an exasperated kindly teacher’s voice. It was as though she were talking to a child and not a man wearing a lace dress about to slide his arse onto a giant dildo.

“Sorry Ma’am. Sorry Sir.”

Jon straddled the stool, he held the dildo in one hand. It felt rubbery and large. It had some flexibility and give, but not much. It was ribbed and he guessed about nine inches long and obscenely thick. Much thicker than his own ample cock. He placed his arsehole at the top of the huge penetrating toy (is is really a toy?). Anxiety and excitement about what such a large thing would feel like bubbled through him. The tip entered, stretching his anus, not enough to hurt but certainly enough to feel like his limit was being pushed. He started to slide down. There was never any pain, but occasionally he felt tiny amounts of discomfort, questioning him like a challenge. Mainly he felt ecstasy. Pleasure coursed through him. The further in the dildo got the more his muscles stretched until he felt waves through his body and like his head was fit to burst. He forgot where he was and started rocking the stool backwards and forwards stretching himself more and more until he felt his balls hit the stool and his arse totally filled and pulled. He was groaning and crying out in ways he hadn’t known possible. He was acting like a cheap hooker and all he wanted was more.

“Enough!” Charlotte's voice was broken and raspy, but quickly returned to the authoritative controlling voice of before. “You are here for my pleasure. Now I want you to suck Sir’s cock. Put on a good show and you may just get a prize.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”


This is the penultimate chapter in this story, although I have so many scenes chopped out there may be extras at some point. The last chapter will be up sometime in the next week.

Sunday, 6 January 2013


I had a seriously sexy season!

On Christmas day hubby and I had sex in the morning and again at night (the first time my Crimbo has been this exciting!), not bad considering how many family members were in the house at the same time. It seems hubby has a fetish for silencing me, which nicely complements my fetish for getting overheard.

I ran around the garden naked in the rain while hubby watched safely from inside.

One night we slept in separate rooms because I was poorly (his mum insisted, don't ask), so we wanked while sending each other filthy text messages.

Hubby took total control of my orgasms telling me when I could and couldn't orgasm (he enjoyed this a little too much I think... *does the dance of nervous joy*). He "forced" me to masturbate so often I can't tell you, my fave was when he straddled my naked body while he was fully clothed with just his cock out. It dripped over me while I was masturbating and I was forbidden from touching him. He kept smearing his juices over my face and breasts and legs and tummy. He made me beg to taste his juices, but he still denied me his cock. Only after he had let me have a clitoral orgasm was I permitted to touch his cock, and only then so I could sit on it. I wasn't allowed to wash any of the jism off even though we were staying with his family. Fucking sexy!

When we got home after the holidays hubby fucked me while I had a dildo up my arse. It was the first time we have ever done that and he LOVED it!

We also took a whole load of pics. This is me watching the sunrise while we spent a couple of days away from our families in a lovely cottage in the middle of some mountains. May 2013 be this beautiful and so full of sex!

(PS The thing I am wearing is the inspiration for the outfit mentioned in this story)

(PPS I always get hubby to read my Sinful Sunday posts and approve the pic. He read this and said "reading that made me a bit aroused, when you put it down like that, we did all that, that's really sexy." HELL FUCKING YEAH!!!!!!!! Now, time for some more sex...byeeeeee)


Edit: This photo was chosen as one of the five in Molly's weekly round-up along with Mollena, That Position, Beck, and Curvaceous Dee.
This post was written for the first Sinful Sunday of 2013, and as it is the first I'd like to thank Molly for all her hard work in coordinating it! Clickety click for more sexy images!

Sinful Sunday

Thursday, 3 January 2013

Hubby’s Sexual Moments of 2012

Over at one of my favorite wank-inspiring blogs, Girl on the Net wrote a blog post based on her primary partner’s favorite sexual moments of 2012. While her blog is largely about the sex, with occasional political rants, and mine is an emotional exploration involving sex, the idea was a grand one. Mostly it works for me because, as regular readers know, my own primary partner, my hubby, has been going through major developments of his own this year.
While walking round the garden of hubby's parent's house, he merrily told me his two specific sexual highlights. The first was also one of mine and I’ve already written it up here! It is a heartwarming tale of a couple finally meeting in sexual bliss together after a long, hard ten years of borderline abstinence. 
The second experience happened back in June while we were on holiday, so we were very relaxed. But it was also before I was due to go off and have my first in-person playtime with James (my first poly-partner while with hubby) and so emotions were very high. We were deeply emotionally connected in a way we had never been, and also under enormous pressure. It was a heady mix within which to play…
My pubes were in one of their gigantic bush phases (take a peek at my Cunt Pride post to see what I mean), and needed a prune. Out came hubby with the magic hair removal cream. We were in a tiny room. Normally a tiny room is less than fun, but when a six foot tall bloke has to squish in a teeny weeny space between the bed and the wall to get to your cunt, things get a little more interesting. There is something about having your most intimate parts stared at for ages by the person you love while your feet are slammed against the wall above his head and you can’t move because acidic cream will get everywhere. While he was applying it and timing it and scraping it away with a deliciously hard piece of plastic, I got wetter and wetter and wetter. Hubby occasionally tortured me with a finger, placed just at the entrance to my cunt. By the time my bush was nice and neat, the bed was sopping wet and I was climbing up the walls, ready to beg, scream and cry for anything.
Unlucky for me, hubby isn’t a fan of giving oral sex (no matter how little hair I have), but on this occasion he craved it and drank my juices until I was screaming the happily detached house down. His cock was so wet and hard that there was no way he wasn’t going to fuck me. While trapped between the bed and the wall he pulled my body off the bed and slid my cunt straight onto his cock. He fucked me with passion, love, and enthusiasm. It was astounding, and we were both emotionally and physically drained afterwards. A wonderful kind of sex. Hubby chose this experience above the others in 2012 because he loved being so close to my vagina (his word), he loved me giving control to him (*does the dance of joy*), and the intimacy between us (magical).
To be fair, this is indicative of the main thing that has come out of 2012 for both of us: understanding and embracing our sexual needs and desires as individuals and as a couple. It has led to hubby uncovering his own sexuality and welcoming his dominant side. It has been about recognizing that sexuality is important to our emotional world. It has been a wonderful journey and it is one we will continue to explore in 2013.
Here is wishing all of us a sexually and emotionally liberated 2013!

This post was written for the first Wicked Wednesday of 2013! Hello everyone, especially the coordinator of the Meme Marie Rebelle