Knife Play

My husband is somewhat obsessed with knives, well anything sharp really. He has professional sharpening equipment. He even makes his own tools, as well as buying crappy old ones to fix up. A few days ago I was cooking when he spanked me with a knife.* This is dangerous! Very dangerous! And seriously sexy. He also caressed my breasts with the sharp edge of the knife. I was actually stirring the dinner on the hot gas stove while that was happening and I can tell you I was shitting myself. I felt so submissive, both tiny and a giant at the same time. It was beautiful.

The moment itself happened suddenly, and this is what made it for me. Hubby was inspired and inspiring. Magical! In honour of that glorious, dangerous, intense experience we made this photograph just for Sinful Sunday, but in this one the danger has left so I am wearing just a bra to make up for it. And, yes, this is the same knife he used to spank me. It makes me shudder just to think about it.

 

* Seriously, if hubby were not so expert at wielding sharp implements, no way would I have tolerated the experience. Not so much "Safe, Sane and Consensual" much more of the "Risk Aware Consensual Kink"

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This post was made and written for Sinful Sunday, where you can find lots of really sexy images. Clickety click

Tasks

For next week I have been given two tasks, both given to me by hubby with a Dominant voice I cannot describe. They are (1) to sort out the plastic bags, and (2) to take the paper to be recycled. Both jobs need doing, but are really crappy jobs I would never do without being told to. Hubby has also given me the task of making lists as part of my "101 Things in 1001 Days" chain link time management project. This is an added impetus I sorely need.

They are not erotic tasks, they are ordinary household duties and yet being given them gives me a sense of calm and peace and belonging I really cannot describe.

Of course, sometimes tasks are erotic. Yesterday I was given one totally out of the blue. A dress was thrown at me, I was told to wear it with tights and later I would have to take off my tights, suck hubby’s cock and then straddle him on the sofa and fuck him as he desired. The only thing is, when it came to the end of the day and taking off my tights, I was so excited I forgot the order of the tasks. Hubby forced me down and spanked me until I remembered. I was in that very odd space where I didn’t know whether I wanted to carry on being spanked or whether I should drag my memory banks and stop the punishment: the need to be submissive won and I remembered the instructions. Hubby then used and abused me until we both screamed. My heart sang for it and I am still feeling blissful today.

End Note:
While writing this, hubby called me with more tasks! I had to eat porridge, go pick up my medicines, buy sausages (I really don’t understand that one...), read an article, and report back to him. Amazing stuff! Must finish the tasks now!

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This post was published as part of Wicked Wednesday, clickety click for more interesting treats.

Phone Sex

Who doesn’t love phone sex? Having to get off through the power of thought, listening, conversation and whatever skills your hand/s can muster. I once fell off a chair having an orgasm because the phone was attached to the wall and couldn’t move. It was great. Of course, that is the downside to phone sex – technicalities.

Technicalities have been the reason why my husband, Nic, and I have not in our 12ish years together had phone sex – not even once (well that and the lack of sexual compatibility, but that is an old story). That is until two nights ago. Hubby is away on holiday while I am at home trying to work. We both have phones, we can afford the calls, we are in practical time zones, and we both have privacy – all requirements for sex over the phone.  

And how delicious our sex was. Nic told me all the things he would do to me, the way he would control my body and force it to do what he wanted. He steered the conversation where he wanted. He dominated our fantasy, he made it his and I submitted to it, willingly. Two years ago he didn’t even fantasize when wanking (no joke, for the life of me I don't know how that is possible), now his fantasies are about guiding me and controlling me. Together we have opened up a whole new world of possibilities as a result. It is wonderful.

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This post was written for Wicked Wednesday (yes, I know it’s Thursday, be off with you pedant). Clickety click for other wicked things.

"Hang up my shirts naked"

A few weeks ago I wrote a letter to my husband. I asked him to be my Sir during a period of intense grief. The letter made him sad because he wasn't inspired to be dominant while grieving and helping me through my grief. Then a number of other things happened (including another bereavement) and suddenly one day this week I received an email from hubby while he was at work (I work from home - bonus!).

"Put my shirts in the washing machine, turn it on. While in the laundry room, hit your thighs with your brush till you come, then go and do whatever you like. When the washing is done, hang up my shirts naked."

My reaction was beyond excitement! I followed the instructions, obviously. I managed to give myself some nice bruises, but hitting myself wasn't enough to make me come so I helped it along by masturbating with a large plastic cooking spoon with a long, thick handle. It was incredible, not least because the laundry room is tiny - barely enough space for the washing machine and one person. It made the whole experience that much more awesome.

One thing though, hanging up damp shirts when naked is jolly bloody cold!

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This post was made for Sinful Sunday (hoorah, I'm back!). Clickety click for more sexy pics.

Letter to My Husband

Although this is a letter to my husband, it is posted here because I thought it might be interesting or valuable for others to read.

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Dear Husband,

The last few weeks have been very difficult for us both. I want to thank you for all of your help and patience. As always, you are amazing and I love you.

Last night we spoke about sex, at least I did, I chose my timing badly. Because of that, I thought I would write down what I need right now. I thought it might be easier for you to read it in your own time. To read it over and over again if you need.

I cannot have romantic, slow, gentle lovemaking at the moment. My mind and my body cannot deal with it. At the moment, while I am grieving I need other things.

I need for you to force me. When I bite or scratch or grab or push you down, I need for you to use whatever force necessary to get me to stop, to make me feel like I am yours. I need to be able to let go and try to attack you, so that I feel you are forcing me. I wouldn't actually do anything dangerous, but I need to feel the resistance in my body and my mind.

I need for you to give me instructions and commands. I need you to tell me to wash the kitchen floor on my hands and knees, naked. I need for you to tell me I have to do things by a certain time and to report back to you. I need to feel like I am yours to do with as you will.

I need to be punished by you if I fail my tasks. I need to believe that you will punish me. To believe that, I may even fail to complete a task, so that I feel your punishment (whatever form that takes is irrelevant). When I feel that I will know to complete future tasks, because you have told me to.

I need you to command me in bed, to tell me what to do. I need to hear your voice. If you don't want to speak, command me to speak or  to do something instead. I crave your voice and your thoughts.

Before our loss, you were showing signs of natural Dominance. You seemed to love it and find it deeply arousing. At the moment that is hidden. I don't know if that is because you are grieving and need slow lovemaking or because you are scared of upsetting me or hurting me at this time. I hope it is the latter, because I need this. I need to be submissive to you, not to anyone else, to you. At this time, more than any other, I need to be submissive for my husband, for the man I love. I need to be owned by you.

I am not asking you to do things that would gross you out. I am not asking for you to fuck me hard up the arse, or to piss on me, or shit on me, or any of the other things I desire. I am only asking you to do things you have done before, but I would like them and I would like them with more aggression and force than has been between us before. 

I promise I will not let you go too far.

I promise I will let you know if you are pushing a little too hard.

I promise I will not let you do anything that is too much for you to bear.

I am asking for you to trust me as I trust you.

Please, be my Sir, if just for a little while.

All my love,

Your wife

Hang On, What Is Sex?

I was totally off the radar in February, so to rejoin the fold I thought I would follow the prompt posed for Wicked Wednesday: “?+?=?”. The initial question this leads to is “how many people have I had sex with?” This is not easy to answer, because first we need to ask “what is sex?” Simple you may think it is penis in vagina sex, but this makes all non-heterosexual people virgins which is blatantly ridiculous. When discussing sex people also only refer to cis-gendered people, which effectively equals guy with cock and girl with cunt. Although being woefully inaccurate, I have never knowingly been intimate with a transperson and so in this post I interchange the genitals and the gender. At some point I hope to find a way not to do this!

There are lots of discussions online about what counts as sex, including a number of academic papers and handy summaries of such papers, including “11 SexualActivities That People Don't Count As 'Having Sex.'” This is a summary of a paper done by the Kinsey Institute and Indiana University.

The researchers questioned 486 adults aged 18 to 96 from Indiana and most of them were heterosexual. They were asked whether they considered certain activities to be having sex. Not one single item they were asked was agreed upon by everybody. Here are some of those things, with my own experiences noted.

1. Penis-vagina sex (with no condom, with both male and female orgasm). I really can’t remember how many unsheathed men I have shagged, about five I’m guessing.

2. Just the tip (apparently also known as halvsies, I found this fab post about them). I don’t think I have had halvsies with anyone I wasn’t actually fucking and deliberately tormenting (or being tormented) with a bit of cock.

3. Penis-vagina sex with a condom. I have had more than ten and fewer than twenty. I am actually very fussy about men and their cocks!

4. Penis-vagina sex, with no female orgasm. Two men fall under this category, one is an unpleasant story for another day.

5. Penis-vagina sex, with no male orgasm. All guys I have been with have ejaculated.

6. Anal sex, with a condom. Unfortunately, fewer than ten (it always amazes me how hard it is to find guys who want to fuck my arse. It is an acquired taste it would seem, anal sex rather than my arse I would hope.)

7. Anal sex (no caveats). The same as above, but more to the point, I have had anal sex with no condom with three or four guys.

8. Receiving oral sex. No women have licked me, I am clearly doing something wrong there. I honestly don’t remember how many guys have devoured me.

9. Performing oral sex. I have enjoyed a couple of women and more men than I will ever be able to remember.

10. Receiving manual stimulation. I have experienced this from a few women but many more men than I can remember, let alone name.

11. Performing manual stimulation. As above.

 

What this doesn’t show is whether or not masturbation in the company of another person counts as sex, or using toys, or genital-to-genital contact, or orgasms through spankings, or other non-genital stimulation. If we count other kinds of experiences than penis-in-vagina, I just do not know how many guys there have been. I tried counting but I gave up when I kept remembering odd nights here and there fumbling around with groups of friends. I got to 40 before I threw in the towel at a complete loss.

 

Next time you discuss with someone how many people you have had sex with, (for health, relationship or fun), you may want to remember that you may have entirely different definitions of sex.

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This was posted for Wicked Wednesday, clickety click for more sex-related discussions and some erotic stories.

Grief and Sex

Over two weeks ago a very close family member died unexpectedly and under difficult circumstances. It has been an awful couple of weeks and it will continue to be so for many months, if not years. I have had some strong sexual reactions to my loss and I thought it would be useful to write them down because writing is how I process. Then I googled sexual reactions to grief and was dismayed. Most articles claim that sex drive decreases with grief, especially among women. A few places recognize that hypersexuality is a reaction, but there is very little about it as a positive force, or indeed about engaging with it when it is a response. This is nonsense! I believe that as long as a grieving person (me!) is not being destructive and is not doing anything to harm herself or others, then she is grieving appropriately.

I heard about my loss at 11pm while I was at a friend’s two hours from where I live with my husband. I had to get home to him, get my transport arrangements sorted to get back to my family, pack, and try to get some rest before leaving to go home to my family all in the space of seven hours. The only reason that I did not have sex was because of the time, but my libido went through the roof.

My mind is what you might call overactive, or at the very least easily distracted. Even during sex my mind wanders onto random things. There are only two moments where my mind cannot be distracted without major effort on someone else’s part: when I am having an orgasm or in subspace. Herein lies my reaction to sex the last fortnight. I have been rather needy for sex, and of course I have snuggled and been intimate, but I have not wanted slow, romantic lovemaking. What I have wanted is the intensity of D/s lovemaking or D/s fucking.

My husband is also grieving and his initial reaction was not sexual. But my desire felt so strong that I even considered contacting my old Dom, James, for sex, or asking hubby if I could have a session with him, or somehow pursue a sexual situation in some way. But, this would have been damaging and destructive. Being intimate with James would have been a short-term fix for a long-term problem and the fix would have caused a whole heap of other problems. I am grieving, I am not capable of making decisions that will affect my future and I have to recognize that. Luckily I did realize that! I also realized that sex was not a need in the short term, but also that it was perfectly fine to want nothing more than to be dominated to the extent that I could find calm in a subspace. But that had to happen within my existing safe and happy relationship structure.

Last night my husband and I had sex again for the first time since our loss. It was the first time we both felt comfortable with what the other wanted and needed. It was romantic, gentle, soft, kind, loving, and involved him giving me commands. I didn’t reach a subspace but I had wonderful orgasms as he came down my throat, my mind and my body and my heart were free with the person I love. Performing sexual acts while grieving should not be something to be ashamed of, but it somehow seems to be seen as such by many.

As people we are physical, mental, and if you think that way also spiritual beings. In order to be complete people our hearts, our bodies, and our minds need to be connected. We need to be able to release our energy in the ways we need to in order to find balance again. A major hole in my world has been made, my balance has been broken and it feels like hell. I am having nightmares, my appetite is off whack, my brain feels like sludge and I burst into hysterics at random times, but at other times everything feels like nothing has happened. I know this is all normal. I am in the early stages of grief, it will take a long time to process what has happened. There will be many changes to my needs and desires. I need to be gentle on myself. I need to let my energies come out because bottling them up will lead to disaster. If some of these are sexual energies and involve begging my husband to fuck my mouth then that is necessary too.

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This post vaguely meets the prompt for the Thirty Days of Kink meme, Day 30: Whatever BDSM/kink related thing you want to write about.

Sunrise

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)

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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!

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!

 

Emily

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

Why No Sex? I Want Sex!

I’ve been silent for weeks now, not only metaphorically with my blog voice, but also literally with my sex voice. Hubby came home from his fortnight away two weeks ago. Surely, when he came home we had lots of sex, right? Wrong. We had bugger all.

Two and more years ago I would have sulked and moaned and eventually shouted at him, or possibly cried silently into my pillow (I did that most of all). I would have believed it was all his fault and that I was being punished for having led a full sex life before meeting him. Now I am wiser.

We didn’t have sex for lots of reasons, and you know what? Not hubby’s fault!

Blood, so, I have a fetish for blood-play. But, that does not stretch to menstrual blood. To have sex during my period I have to plan it. I have to put down towels and have condoms and all sorts of things. When Nic came back from his trip, I had just started menstruating (four days early, BOOOOO!). Nic never propositions me when I am on my period. I used to blame him for this, but now I see it is because I have issues and he is being kind.

Work, it was insane. I’m not talking 9-5, or even the 9-8 scary business folk often do. No, I’ve been work between 12 and 16 hours a day, 7 days a week for the last month. It has been the brainchild of Satan’s petulant youngest child, trying to show off to daddy. Seriously, it has been that bad. How could I blame hubby on that? Once I would have.

Sickness, hubby had a cold. When I have a cold I get insanely horny. I used to blame hubby for not feeling horny when he was sick. How is that fair?

When sex is bad, everything becomes clouded in that. It is impossible to separate logic and reason from feelings of pain and anxiety. I wanted sex, I never got sex, and a cycle of misery and recriminations developed. Thankfully things are changing, and because Nic and I have been building our sexual bridges (and, oh, what magnificent bridges they are), it has been easier for me to look at my negative thoughts calmly and to recreate them in positive ways. Now I see this period of two weeks abstinence as a chance to explore how far we have come. I’m moaning about two weeks? It wasn’t so very long ago we didn’t have sex for two years!

Hubby was away again this weekend. Monday he came home and Monday night, he discovered new things.

 

He made me lie on my front, with my bum lifted in the air a little. He spanked it, he bit it (damned hard I might add! Bite bruises!), and he shoved a butt plug up my arse. He also decided, for reasons I can’t fathom, to spank my cunt with the back of his hand. I could hear him wanking above me as he was slapping me. It felt amazing and, of course, I orgasmed like that. The whole time I was wearing my very unsexy red pajama top (it is freezing in my world). When he told me that he was going to come over my back I asked him if I should get naked. He very forcefully said “No!”  His juices shot all the way along my back and into my hair.

Have a strange photo of a streak of my husband's orgasm from my bum to to neck, with just a tiny hint of one of the bite marks. Cheekily cropped as always, nothing too saucy to see on this blog.

This post met the prompt #want for Wicked Wednesday. Please take a look to find a whole range of real life stories, philosophy, sex ed, photos, and all kinds of erotic goodies.

Orgasms, Spontaneous

This is the last of my "Orgasm" posts, the others are:

1) Clitoral
2) Vaginal
3) Anal
4) Breasts

This fifth and final post explores the most unconventional ways I orgasm: spontaneously and through the power of thought.

The key element is that the orgasms happen without touching any genitalia (including my boobs). When these orgasms happen they are occasionally strong but usually more of a little “pop” something to get me gagging for more, or something to scratch an itch of frustration. They either happen without any notice, with a bit of a build-up, or because I have deliberately “thought” them into action. Here are some examples where I have had “spontaneous” orgasms followed by my description of how I think myself to orgasm. Maybe try it yourself?

 

• Listening to a guy speak with a very deep voice (I encouraged that one, so I could have easily stopped it)
• Being scratched on the back at a gig (I literally had an itch, nothing sexual, I was gobsmacked when I had an orgasm)
• Being gently spanked while leaning against hubby on his chair (no control)
• Sitting in a hotel lobby exchanging sexy emails (I totally could have stopped that, but didn't want to)
• Spooning in bed with someone I had been flirting with for hours (no control)

So, then, how do I make myself orgasm? This is my handy guide to coming in six seconds (give or take a few).

 

I clench the muscles about four inches above my clit, (roughly where the G-Spot is supposed to be, although Lord only knows if this is what I am squeezing).
This makes my breath hitch round about my diaphragm and lower lungs (seriously, I suck at anatomy, this could all be wrong).

 

I alternate between squeezing the internal muscles and catching my breath.

 

When the squeezing and breath loss coincide, after about three switches or so, I have an orgasm. It releases mainly through the face but also creates a “pop” in the area where I clenched my muscles. I’ve tried to create a spontaneous clitoral and anal orgasm but so far I have had no luck in that area. They are fun to do, especially as a potential taboo in public. They can be great to do in restaurants or on trains when I am with someone who knows what I look like when I orgasm because, no matter how much control I may have, my face and chest always go bright red when I orgasm – even from a short little “pop” like the spontaneous ones.

Fun times!

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This was posted as part of the "Wicked Wednesday" meme. The prompt this week was:



I'm not meant to be tamed, so when I can't run wild with another, I run wild by myself *grin*

Clickety click for more Wicked posts.

Orgasms, Breasts

Periodically, I hear people gasp in bewilderment when they discover that some women have boobie orgasms. This is often accompanied by total disbelief. "I don't have them, therefore nobody else must be able to." I dislike such assumptions. I have breast orgasms.

Or, to be more factual, I have right breast orgasms with the very occasional left breast joy (it is also the right side of my clitoris that is the most exciting. Coincidence?)

So, how does it happen? Well, my right mammary gland has a direct line from my nipple to my clitoris. Tweeking it, pulling it, sucking it, tugging it, nibbling it, while I masturbate my clit brings the most intense full body orgasm.

But, I hear you cry, this is not a boobie orgasm! Aha, well, if I have just my right nipple (and very rarely my left) played with I can have a delicious orgasm. My body will jerk and writhe and my breath will hitch. After this happens my nipples are hyper sensitive and can't be touched. Luckily, I have lots of holes and a clit to play with. Huzzah!

There is one more way in which I can have a breast orgasm, this is soft and gentle and more related to the whole breast, not the nipple, it is also more likely to happen from each breast, not just the right one. This is when the whole breast is caressed, very very gently but not enough to tickle. It can even happen through clothes (while in public, much to my partner's amusement). This creates a warm soft orgasm, the only way to describe it is like a comforting hug. I can have one of these without becoming more aroused or needing anything else. 

I consider myself very lucky!

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This post was part of Wicked Wednesday. This week's prompt was "Sexuality," specifically the "bisexual umbrella." I covered that in my explanation of my heteroflexibility, hence my boobie orgasm post. To see the other Wicked Wednesday entries for this week clickety click:

The internet is for PORN!

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Multi-Tasking Masturbation

Hubby is on holiday and seeing as I have no other partners in my life, this means masturbation. Lots of it. On the night of the US Presidential Election I was in bed reading male/male porn involving a werewolf and 16 year old human (it’s a thing), and half listening to the election commentary on the radio. It was a surprisingly heady combination. I was idly, half-heartedly playing with my clit and occasionally fingering my arse and my cunt. At some point I read a particularly delicious piece of porn and decided to call it a night and let my thoughts wander.

For reasons unbeknownst to me, I started fantasizing about pissing in the bowl of lemon mousse I had made for myself. This image was interspersed with brief shots of a person ordering me to kneel on the floor and lick the piss-soaked mousse like a dog. This person was telling me to do this via Skype. Somehow I knew this person had a partner who didn’t know about me. All the while in “real life” I was listening to the radio.

In my fantasy I started smearing the piss-soaked mousse over my breasts and cunt, using the sticky mess to masturbate with. I knew, as you do in dreams, that I had been told to do this over Skype. I also knew that the partner was overhearing our conversation and our sexual gratification. I knew an explosive row was about to happen but I never got to picture it. Instead my mind wandered back to the mousse, while my physical self listened to the radio. 

I had one incredibly powerful “thunderbolts” orgasm, and the thing that set me over the edge? The radio broadcaster saying “it is over” (Obama had won). How fascinating! 

A combination of dubious werewolf porn, American politics, piss-play, getting caught, getting someone else in trouble, and food-play was an unexpected, bizarre and convoluted collection of images, events, and ideas to masturbate to. It is absolutely worth it though, letting your own mind wander and enjoying the random sounds, experiences and thoughts influencing your pleasure. When we fantasize we should embrace the direction our mind and body takes us because trying to control our fantasies is surely a repressive act. I can’t wait to find out what the next unusual collection of things are that set me down the path to wonderland.

But, first, I really need to make me some more lemon mousse because really? Pissing in it, licking it, and wanking with it? Hot.As.Hell!

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This posts meets the Thirty Days of Kink prompt: "Day 27: Do your non-kink interests ever find their way into your kinky activities? If so, how?"

I'm a hobby cook, addicted to politics (especially US politics), and my main hobby in life is reading, watching, and talking about "fantasy" (hence the werewolf porn).

Orgasms, Anal

Arses

Arses

Arses

Arses

Really, what more in life is there? Not a great deal if you are me. Ok, that is a horrid exaggeration but ye gads I love things up my bum hole.

Unlike with my vagina and clitoris, I orgasm anally without any effort at all. If something is big enough and long enough, or shaped in a curved fashion (like my hairbrush handle), or just a bit kinky (I have a parsnip in the kitchen awaiting my attention), all it has to do is be inside me and I come.

When only my arse is being played with the orgasm will be very strong and will be all-encompassing throughout my whole body. Generally I only have one anal orgasm at a time (not multiple orgasms as with my vagina), but I can have them over and over again with ease (unlike with my clitoris).

If my vagina is filled or my clitoris is being played with at the same time as my arse is filled then the orgasms blur into one giant feeling of bliss. I won’t really be able to differentiate the sources of the feelings but everything will feel that much more intense.

Sometimes after I have had a decent amount of arse-play, or even just a lot of penis-in-vagina sex, I orgasm when I’m having a poo. I have never met anyone else who admits this, but I did read about someone having the same experiences in a book once. I wonder whether this is why I have a bit of a scat fetish? Perhaps. Or perhaps the scat is a way to manage my arse adoration when my arse is neglected because not everyone loves anal as much as I do. Oh gosh do I love it so.

I’m Heteroflexible

A reader of my blog emailed me to tell me I appear “aggressively heterosexual.” This traumatized me. I do not want to be seen as aggressively anything, especially when I do not feel heterosexual, nor do I identify as such. My primary sexual identities are polyamorous and kinky, neither of which focus on the gender of my partner. My gender related sexuality is not pansexual, lesbian, bisexual or heterosexual. I am heteroflexible.

According to the great bastion of knowledge known as Wikipedia, “Heteroflexibility is a form of a sexual orientation or situational sexual behavior characterized by minimal homosexual activity despite a primarily heterosexual sexual orientation that is considered to distinguish it from bisexuality. It has been characterized as 'mostly straight.'”

Apart from being an appallingly written sentence this definition works for me, but let me explain a bit more.

My first sexual experience with another person was when I was about seven or nine-ish. The person was a girl, and I am sure I had no idea what we were doing was “sexual.” We were just in bed together naked and fumbling about a bit.

My first teenage naked sexual experience was with a female. I was about 17. Since then I have snogged women, made out with them, and had sex with them. Except for the odd snog and groping sessions all of my experiences with women have been exclusively for our own sexual pleasure and not with any influence from a third party (i.e. not for the male gaze).

I love to look at women, to fantasize about them, to play with them. I like breasts. I like waists. I like faces. I like bums. I like cunts. I enjoy how women feel against me. In fact, I have a very specific type. Without exception all of the women I have had sex with have been a few inches shorter than me, very pretty, with long dark brown or black hair (usually curly), and very voluptuous figures. They have all been overtly sexual and with very forceful personalities. And nerds. Yep, all of them have been geeks.

Why do I seem aggressively heterosexual then? I assume it is because this blog isn’t about my past sexual experiences. It is about my current sexual experiences and about my recent emotional relationships. Despite my somewhat needy desire for a female friend of mine who lives thousands of miles away from me, I am currently “female” free. I expect that this will remain so for the majority of my life. This is because I have never dated a female, I don’t know why. This is not to say that I won’t, at some point in the future, date a woman. About a decade ago I was besotted with a female friend of mine, and I would have loved to be her “girlfriend,” but she was very heterosexual.

I am no longer someone who has casual sexual encounters. This makes it unlikely that I will be writing about my sexual experiences with women in this blog. But, dear Reader, I hope this will counter, at least a little, any notion of my aggressive heterosexuality. If the right woman (cis, genderqueer, or trans) were to come along, I would not hesitate to embrace them in my heart and desire.

Cocks

I love them! All of them.

I love to suck them, to lick the length of them, to drink their juices. I love to slide my cunt onto them. I love them filling my arse. I love to watch them shoot their juices over my tits, my tummy, my cunt, my hands. I love to wank them between my breasts. I love to wash them, to hold them, to squeeze them. I love cocks!

The smallest I’ve played with was about four inches, it was only slightly longer than the width of the palm of my hand. It was less than an inch in diameter. It was utterly useless in my vagina, and mediocre for anal sex. But, I loved the feel of it in my mouth. The owner of the cock was also rather fantastic at giving head!

The largest I’ve played with was about 3 inches in diameter and nine inches long. I would orgasm constantly because the cock touched every part of me. But sucking it was tough and anal required concentrated relaxation. The owner of the cock was, until recently, the best lay I’d ever had.

Most cocks I’ve played with have been very average in size. I like average. Average is my favorite.

I prefer cocks with foreskins. But cocks without them are great too. Foreskins make cocks easier to play with. Cocks without foreskins seem less sensitive and need different handling. I have only played with three cut cocks, and one of those was owned by someone truly unbelievably amazing in bed.

All cocks are awesome!

Orgasms, The Vagina

Continuing the series of posts about my ever lovely orgasms, this one is about my vagina. Despite images like this one:

Most vaginas do not exist in a perfectly straight line. I’ve been told by medical staff that my vagina is unusually wonky with my cervix being somewhat far to the right. How fascinating! I have no idea if this makes a difference to my enjoyment of sex, but it is interesting.

I am one of those women who can orgasm just from vaginal intercourse. Yey! But there are five distinct types of orgasms and all of them are stronger if I have already had at least one clitoral orgasm. I have no idea which ones are related to the G-Spot, the A-Spot or Uterine orgasms, but do I need to know? Of course not. Who gives a crap, it’s all about the fun!

So, the first sort of orgasm is localized around the vagina, it usually happens within the first few seconds of penetration by something of suitable girth (usually only a penis to be honest). I can have a bunch of these, but I tend to only have one or two because then the next type of orgasm tends to kick in.

This will have a nice build up, warm and intense sending rolling waves of pleasure through my body. When I’m masturbating, I always have this type. This is my absolute favorite vaginal orgasm and I can have millions of them. Sometimes this orgasm transmutes and becomes one of the other three types I have.

One version is the “face” orgasm, this is when the pressure builds up in my body and bursts out of my face. It is fun, but not awesome, unlike the next type.

If I am very lucky, my orgasm will stop my breathing. Yes, literally. This only ever happens during penis-in-vagina intercourse and while not rare is fairly uncommon. It is a moment of pure bliss as my body totally gives in to the sensations of intimacy and pleasure.

Alas, there is one type of orgasm I HATE! Yep, you read that right, a bad orgasm. This one is, thankfully, very rare, and it only ever happens during penis-in-vagina intercourse. It builds up and, rather than bursting out my face or my whole body, it bursts out my forehead. It feels like a blood vessel has burst. To be fair, I have no idea what a blood vessel bursting feels like, but if I could imagine it, it would feel like this orgasm. It is painful and intense and something to be suffered until it’s over. I can usually have nice, normal orgasms after it, but it leaves me with a headache for hours.

So far I haven’t discovered any limits to the number of vaginal orgasms I can have, which is, I suspect, difficult for my partners. But as long as I'm not interrupted while an orgasm is building I’ll be satisfied.

Having established that my vagina is a moist smooshy tube of bliss, does it need cock to orgasm? Certainly not! Penetration of the vagina can be done by anything and orgasms can be reached through pretty much anything (as long as it doesn’t vibrate, I don’t like vibrators). If I say “we’ve had sex” it can mean anything from we’ve just wanked each other off, to playing online, to a six hour lovefest with no penis-in-vagina intercourse. Having said all of that different implements will lead to different sorts of orgasms and the two most important things? Girth and length. So, what do I like? If you want, you can equate this to cock, because cock-owning folk, size matters. Sorry about that.

If something is too skinny it is going to be no good at all, seriously, I never use less than two fingers in my vagina because there would be no point. Indeed, the ideal girth is about an inch and a half to two inches in diameter. I can take more (I like a good fisting occasionally) but it rarely adds orgasmic value and is more for kink or intimacy purposes. If something is too thick it can be uncomfortable.

What about length? This varies, sometimes I just want to feel something inside me so it doesn’t need to be in very far, but other times I want to be filled. The best thing to use in such instances is something like this:

In fact, this is my very favorite toy! Yep, if you come round for dinner pretty much everything in the kitchen has been in my cunt.

I can wiggle it about and move it in and out, lovely! About 5 inches is the max I usually do. I can take more but if it is too long it can be uncomfy (so, cock-owners, there is little point wanting a cock bigger than 6 inches from base to tip if you ever want to fuck me).

But sometimes, very often if I’m playing by myself (due to hubby’s lack of interest in anal), I’m much more interested in my arse, because my anal orgasms are To.Die.For! I’m looking forward to writing that post, I do love my arse.

Submitting to my Husband

I started writing this post yesterday morning and it was very organic in its writing.

The original post was just this paragraph and photograph:

I was going to write a very long post about how this image came about and what my husband did to me while he made me stand against the wall in a little black negligee. Instead I got distracted by my husband deciding to put his cock in my mouth while I was sitting on the sofa with friends in the next room. Hell yeah! I don't know how it's happening, but I'm loving this side of my husband coming to the fore.

 

The second version of this post was an addition of this paragraph:

After I inserted the photo I noticed the faintest hint of a bruise caused by a caning (by my former partner) back in June. Unless you knew it was there you would never be able to tell and I imagine most people would still not spot it [hint: bottom right corner]. I had to zoom in just to be sure.

This addition somehow seemed wrong though, because I'm all about my husband's dominance at the moment. But something happened to enable this error to be fixed and the final version of the post came about:

Yesterday afternoon I did a very "bottom" thing, rather than a "subby" thing; I asked hubby to spank me while our visitors were out of the house for an hour. He didn't act like a top, he acted like a Dom. He stood in the kitchen, took out a wooden spoon and beckoned me. He physically forced my head down onto the counter, and he forced my legs apart. He pulled down my jeans and knickers and he spanked me with the spoon. He masturbated me and squeezed my nipples until I was very close to orgasm. He then told me to get dressed because it would be sexy to know how turned on I was. Last time he spanked me and gave me a bruise he was very uncomfortable and had bad dreams, this time he didn't! Last night we went to bed and he looked at his handywork and took photos of a bruise he caused. He then told me to straddle him and masturbate myself. He squeezed my nipples, twisted them and told me to lean back while he held them so I stretched my own nipples. After I came he fucked me. This is the bruise that broke his phobia of "hurting" me! It might be delicate, it might not be the result of a hard spanking, but Oh!My!God! it is beautiful because my vanilla husband did it.

For other people's pictures clickety click below.