Holiday encounters


I’be never been very good at monogamy and, it probably’s fair to say that before I met Master C, and apart from the couple “regular” relationships I had before Him, casual sex was pretty much my thing. I met guys online, I met guys in pubs, I met guys on holiday; more than half of my sexual encounters were “once onlies”. To be fair, even now, a lot of the guys I fuck still fall into this category; the only difference being that now I have to subject myself to the stern, but fair, discipline of Master C whenever I choose to indulge my insatiable sluttiness.

I mentioned recently that Master C and I had been on holiday in Greece. I have, of course, been to Greece many times. The particular event I want to share with you took place far too many years ago, when I was 17.

I’d recently finished school, when a group of us went on holiday to Faliraki on the Greek island of Rhodes. There was a lot of drinking, a lot of lying in the sun, and, between the six of us in our group, quite a lot of shagging; although I think “The Girl” and I were the only members of our group that shagged each other, but that’s another story.

Having arrived at the resort around midday, checked in, spent the afternoon lounging by the pool and drinking cocktails from the pool bar, by the time evening came, we were ready to hit the clubs.

His name was Gavin, he was from Manchester and, as it turned out, was flying home the next day. He was cheery, cheeky, a pretty good kisser and, as I was to discover, pretty good with his tongue and a better than average fuck.

A walk , well, drunken stagger, along the beach, resulted in me giving him a blow-job under the stars as he sat on a sun-lounger and I knelt in the sand between his legs. He had a decently proportioned cock and enjoyed the attentions of my mouth. He came quickly, filling my mouth with cum. We swapped places and he ate me out to a succession of shuddering climaxes before we headed back to his apartment.

The apartment was empty and we headed straight to his room. We stripped off and I sucked him until his cock was as hard as my cunt was wet and we fucked, and fucked, and fucked.

We were still fucking when his friends began returning. He was balls-deep in my arse when they burst into the room. They were chanting and cheering him on as he fucked my arse and when he pulled out and came all up my back, their cheers were almost deafening.

It was about 3am when I got back to our apartment. “The Girl” staggered in about an hour later. We spent the next hour or so telling each other about our evenings. The high point of her evening being spit-roasted over a table in front of one of the beach bars.

We fucked each other, licking each other into a frenzy, both of us cumming hard before finally falling asleep.

All in all it was a great start to what was to be an fantastic holiday.

#MasturbationMonday

Advertisements

Skelpt arse


I suspect I may have mentioned that I am a mischievous little slut, I don’t deny it. As such, Master C almost always has some reason for needing to punish me.

Sometimes He will use His hand, sometimes a rolled up newspaper, for more serious transgressions He will use the paddle and, for the very worst offences, He uses His belt.

The reason for my most recent punishment spanking: spending a very fun, sexy Saturday afternoon with “The Girl”.

As usual, on returning home, I was forced to describe my latest indiscretion in full and vivid detail. I described how we explored each other’s bodies with our lips, fingers and tongues. I told Him all about the toys we used on ourselves and each other. I described in intense minute detail every climax that “The Girl” inflicted on my oh so willing body.

Sessions such as this will usually earn me at least six of the best from Master C’s belt, but on this occasion, He was feeling lenient and deemed the blow-job I gave Him to be a suitable act of contrition, so the punishment was downgraded to a paddling.

The paddle is only marginally less painful than the belt but it inflicts itself over a considerably bigger area.

Suffice to say, I was, as usual, required to assume the position, bent over the desk, while Master C dished out my punishment with resounding thwacks against my poor bottom, having me count out each stroke of the paddle.

Have I learned my lesson? Probably not. And, being totally honest, even if I had, I’d still find countless other ways to misbehave that would require the application of Master C’s stern discipline.

#MasturbationMonday

Facial hair


I’ll be perfectly honest; much as I have a fondness for the hairy, rugged male, I can take or leave facial hair. If I had to choose, irrevocably, one or the other, I would choose to leave it.

I can live, quite happily, with a certain amount of stubble, even if it is a bit rough on the skin, but beards don’t really do it for me.

When I’m kissing a guy, I like to be able to get at his lips. In the same way that when I am sucking a guy off, I do appreciate a certain tidiness, the same goes, even more so, with facial hair.

I appreciate that, unless a guy shaves daily, the chances are that he’s never going to be completely smooth. Even Master C, who despite being bodily hairy, doesn’t have much in the way of facial follicles, is still quite prickly within a few hours of his last shave.  It’s just one of those things we women have to put up with.

But, and it is a huge BUT, one aspect of sex that I believe is definitely enhanced by a degree of roughness; I love the extra sensation a couple of days worth of growth gives my clit and my labia when a man goes down on me. That extra bristliness just gives it that extra fillip, that little extra edge, that touch more sensation that makes it all the more pleasurable for me.

Don’t get me wrong, when it comes to cunnilingus, so long as the practitioner is suitably adept at performing the task, I’ll take it anyway I can get it. In much the same way that I love it when another woman eats my cunt, I won’t let the fact that a guy is freshly shave put me off. If, on the other hand (or should that be lip?) he does happen to be sporting a few days’ growth, then HEAVEN

So, beards, not really a big fan (sorry all my beardy followers), but stubble, hell yeah; just let me get out of my uncomfortably damp knickers and get your face between my thighs.

#MasturbationMonday

Déjà sex


Déjà vu is a strange experience at the best of times, but when you experience it during sex it can be particularly disconcerting.

In my post: The sexual spectrum, last week, I made reference to a recent holiday Master C and I took to Greece.  This particular episode occurred during that holiday.

So, image the scene; as the sun beats down, Master C and I take shelter from the afternoon heat in an olive grove. One thing leads to another as the temperature and the seclusion, not to mention the beers that we washed down our picnic with, take effect and our activities turn more carnal.

And it’s there, while I’m bracing myself against the trunk of an olive tree, my boobs hanging free and Master C pounding my cunt from behind with his lovely thick, hard cock that I experienced it.

As I said, it was mildly disconcerting; the almost certainty that I’d been fucked there in that very spot, against that very tree before, even though I’d never been in that grove before.

In another sense it was also strangely arousing, a sense of almost watching myself being fucked, a sense of knowing how each thrust of Master C’s cock in my cunt would feel before it was delivered.

The sensation lasted no more than a second, after that it was just the delicious feeling of being fucked hard, yet languidly against the olive tree until Master C’s cock erupted inside me, filling my cunt with his warm, sticky cum.

As we lay together under the branches, once again it briefly felt hauntingly familiar, snuggled up in Master C’s arms as I’ve done countless times before.

Heat, combined with a bloody good fuck can, it seems, play tricks with the mind.

#MasturbationMonday

The sexual spectrum


Someone recently retweeted an old post for a submission to a meme called TMI Tuesday, which I quite liked. The link up date passed a long time ago, but I’ve stolen the questions, and answered them below:

From your life, tell us about an object, experience or idea related to each of the colours of the spectrum.

  1. Red – the colour of my arse when I misbehave and Master C punishes me; either spanking me or, if I’ve been particularly naughty, thrashing me with His belt.
  2. Orange – the colour of the sun as we watched it set, sinking into the sea, from the veranda of our apartment on our recent holiday in Greece.
  3. Yellow – the colour of the sun in summer, beating down on me as I lie naked on a beach, or beside a pool, or in a remote spot in the country, savouring the feelings as its rays kiss my skin.
  4. Green – the colour of the grass and the leaves on the trees in the forest glade that Master C and I often frequent for alfresco sex.
  5. Blue – the colour of the sea, the waves lapping against my naked body as I welcome its cooling embrace as a temporary relief from the heat of the sun.
  6. Violet – the colour of the bruises, inflicted by Master C’s belt; a visual reminder of my necessary punishment.

Bonus: What is the colour of sex?

Crimson – reflecting the surge of blood through my veins, the inflaming of my lips, the darkening of my nipples, the flush of my skin and the throbbing of my clit.

#MasturbationMonday

So long as they have a face…


…I will always have a place to sit.

Make no bones about it, I love having a partner’s tongue between my labia and on my clit, particularly if it is the tongue belonging to Master C. It doesn’t matter whether the other person is face down between my thighs or if I’m kneeling astride their face, the feeling of a tongue and mouth on my cunt is something I will never get too much of.

The risks of me accidentally breaking their nose or of me suffocating the partner in question and depriving myself of their tongue aside, there are good reasons from a purely practical perspective why sitting on a partner’s face is such a convenient position.

For a start, if I’m sucking a man off, once he’s blown his load in my mouth, I can simply just move up his body, straddle his head, lower myself on to his mouth and have him return the compliment.

Alternatively, when I’m on top, fucking him, riding his cock with abandon, it may be that he’s overheating while I still have a way to go. Again, it is so much easier for me to just slide off his cock, move up the bed, plant my cunt on his mouth and have him redress the balance before moving back down and reimpaling myself on him.

Sometimes, if I’m facing in the other direction, while he is mid feast, I can lean forward and either play with his cock with my hands, or take him into my mouth and reciprocate. I mean, let’s be honest,  69s aren’t particularly practical, but they can be fun every now and then. With Master C being at least 6″ taller than me, a 69 is much easier with me on top than it is with Him.

When I’m sitting on  Master C’s or “The Other Guy’s” face, they can reach up and play with my boobs as they lick me. They can finger either of my holes as their tongue lashes my clit. What’s more, by moving my weight around, I can directly control the pressure their tongue applies, giving me exactly the stimulation I want at that particular moment.

The same can be said when I’m having sex with “The Girl”. I’ve sat on her face, she has sat on mine. When we 69, as I am the taller of the two of us, she frequently goes on top.

It’s a very practical position and, as anyone who has ever gone down on a woman will know, it’s actually a lot less uncomfortable for the licker, in terms of not giving yourself a cricked neck, than burying yourself face down between her thighs is.

So, let’s hear it for face-sitting. I don’t care if I’m never going to be able to sell videos of me doing it, or having it done to me, I’m going to go right on enjoying it every chance I have.

#MasturbationMonday The Oral Sex Project

I swallow


I suspect it comes as no surprise to learn that I swallow. Granted, I haven’t swallowed every load I’ve ever taken in my mouth, but the vast majority that I’ve taken have ended up in my stomach. After all, I’ve worked hard for my reward, I’ve earned it so, as long as I am allowed to do so, I’m going to savour and enjoy it. I’ve no objection to taking a load over my face, or my boobs if that’s the kind of mood I’m in, or if Master C decides that’s what I deserve, but I do love the feeling of a nice, thick, hot load of fresh cum trickling down my throat.

I’ve never really understood the whole “spit or swallow” thing. To me, it’s always been more about whether or not I allow a man to cum in my mouth in the first place. Let’s face it, once he has shot his load in your mouth, it’s a bit too late to worry about what it tastes like and, if we’re being brutally honest, if it doesn’t taste pleasant, spitting it out isn’t going to change things. OK, so I admit, there are times when a guy’s cum tastes so foul that you spit out of reflex. It has happened to me and it can’t really be helped, sometimes it’s just automatic. As a general rule however, if it passes that first test, down it goes.

One of the ways I have tried to avoid this unfortunate scenario is to have a few general rules of thumb. Based on experience, the main one is, if the man smokes, I don’t let things get that far. It’s been a rule I’ve had ever since my teens, even back in my student days when I used to be a smoker myself. It hasn’t always guaranteed that the experience wouldn’t be unpleasant, but it has, I think, improved the odds.

Now, there are some women who just won’t let guys go that far. I have a very good friend who has never taken a load in her mouth, and I know she is not alone. She’ll happily let a guy dump a load of cum anywhere else on or in her, but she just can’t bring herself to let men co,e in her mouth. In her cunt, fine, up her arse, no problem, over her boobs, bring it on, in her mouth, no fucking way; the first hint of pre-cum when she’s sucking a guy and his cock is speedily transferred to another hole. She quite openly admits that just the thought of taking a load in her mouth makes her queasy.

Me, on the other hand, I was willing to give it a try, and the first load I took was sufficiently not too unpleasant to make me happy enough to keep doing it.

For a lot of women, assuming they were willing to try it in the first place, I suspect their decision whether or not to let a man unload in their mouth is based on how unpleasant or otherwise their first (and in many cases, I suspect, only) experience was. I was fortunate, others won’t have been.

When you have a regular partner, you can become accustomed to the flavour of their cum. You get familiar with the effect that their diet and lifestyle has on the taste. The first time you suck a man’s cock, however, you are largely taking a leap into the unknown; you really don’t know what you’re going to get. You can take “reasonable” precautions, for example my embargo on smokers, but even then you still don’t know what to expect. Even the cleanest tasting cock is capable of producing foul tasting semen; it’s a risk we just have to take. On the whole, I’ve been lucky, the “good” has by far outweighed the bad, but I have had my share of unpleasant experiences too.

As an aside, the Cosmo type magazines of this world would have us women believe that we shouldn’t waste our time going down on men who aren’t prepared to go down on us. Now, largely, I agree with this, but there are exceptions. It’s one thing if a man expects us to suck his cock but is too lazy, arrogant or self-absorbed to return the favour, but there are some men who, just as there a women who won’t let a man come in their mouth, get squeamish about putting their mouths to our lady parts.

I was with such a man for a spell when I was at Uni. He was a lovely guy and the sex was very good; but no amount of coaxing could make him overcome his cunniligaphobia. Even the less than subtle “I’ve done you, the least you could do is do me back” was met with a rueful shrug and a reply along the lines of “Well, so long as I get to fuck you, I guess I can live without getting my cock sucked”. The thing was, he had a very suckable cock, and, as I’ve said, was a pretty damned good fuck; the things he could do with his fingers and mouth could turn me inside out. Ultimately though, I missed getting my cunt eaten out, so it had to end. Shallow? Very probably, but I had needs that he, sadly, couldn’t satisfy.

Anyway, back to my original point; spit, swallow or don’t let him come in your mouth in the first place, it’s a choice every one of us has to make for ourselves and whichever way you fall, if the man whose cock you’re sucking is worth it, he will respect your choice. That said, it’s almost impossible to maintain an air of coy innocence with a mouthful of cum.

#MasturbationMonday The Oral Sex Project

Feel good cuddle fucks


Sometimes I like to have my brains fucked out. Sometimes I like to have long, slow, passionate love made to me. Sometimes though, I just want to have sex; not because I’m feeling randy, nor because I specifically crave the release of orgasm, but simply because it feels so good.

I’m a very touchy feelly person. Master C is equally tactile. Sometimes we have sex, not because we simply have to have each other, but because, at its most basic level, sex is simply the most intimate form of touching.

I’m also a self-confessed cuddle whore. I love the closeness, I love the feeling of protection I get from having a pair of big strong arms around me. Touch, cuddling and sex all fit nicely together.

Now, I like cuddles even when they don’t involve sex, but when they do, it can be fantastic.

It’s not essential that I come. Sometimes I will, and that’s a bonus, but the important thing is that it just feels nice. It’s relaxed, generally slow, no-one is particularly in charge, we’re just simply enjoying each other’s company and each other’s bodies. When, as inevitably, Master C comes, we just hold each other, kissing, caressing and sharing a feeling of intensely intimate closeness and contentedness.

Yes, I know, usually I’m a filthy little slut who likes it hard and rough, but deep down, I’m still a soppy romantic at heart.

#MasturbationMonday

Tongue lashings


As with all things sex, the range of talents displayed in the performance of cunnilingus range from “Was that it?” To “Oh God! Oh my fucking God! Oh fuck! OH FUCK! Yes! YES! FUCKING YESSSS!” Some rush at it, some luxuriate in it. I’m probably going to shatter a well held belief here; but in my opinion, women are not inherently better than men. Yes, I know I have a cunt and I know how it likes to be treated, but that’s just it; I know how my cunt likes to be treated. A woman going down on me for the first time has no more knowledge or experience of the way I like to be licked than a man in that same position does. Anyway, I digress…

In a way, I was lucky. I had about 18 months or so of “oral only” relationships before I lost my virginity. I discovered very quickly that one way of ensuring I was on the receiving end of some pretty good cunnilingus was to have the guy go down on me first. Suck the guy off first and he pretty much lost interest as soon as he’d blown his load in my mouth, but promising him a blow-job after he’d seen to my needs always seemed to make a guy raise his game. He didn’t have to make me come, although nine times out of ten I would, but he did have to make an effort to pleasure me. My mouth was going nowhere his cock until I was thoroughly eaten out. The guys I went with at this stage quickly learned that the way to my mouth was through my cunt.

It was one particularly intense tongue lashing that led to me reward the guy in question by letting him take my virginity. He had always had a particular talent (it’s not generally a talent you associate with the teenage male, but he knew the more he put into his efforts, the more rewarding it would be for him). He knew how to take me slowly to boiling point and then keep me there. He knew when “Please, no more!” meant “Don’t even think about stopping!” and when it actually meant I really couldn’t take any more. And on that perfect late summer afternoon during half-term, a few weeks after my 16th birthday, having licked me and fingered me into a quivering mess of hot, sweaty, over-climaxed Morag, I begged him to fuck me; and fuck me he did.

In a similar way, Master C is one of those men that luxuriates in going down on a woman. For Him it is never a something to be performed perfunctorily, to be got out of the way quickly before moving on to the main event. For Master C, performing cunnilingus is an event in its own right. When He’s going down on me, that is what Master C is concentrating on. He’s licking me, teasing me, turning me on, taking me to the precipice again and again before, finally letting me come. Sometimes Master C can have me coming in virtually no time at all; at other times He can keep me on the edge for what seems like forever. Sometimes He’ll deliver a series of shudderingly sharp climaxes, at other times Master C builds me up gradually to one powerful finalé that leaves me utterly drained.

As I said, I’ve been extremely fortunate. I’ve known a couple of men who, like Master C and “The Other Guy”, put their heart and soul into the performance of cunnilingus; men who really know how to use their tongues to maximise the pleasure they give; men who take their pleasure from knowing how much I enjoy what their mouths are doing to me.

Most men know how to use their cocks, but a man who also knows how to use their tongue is truly special.

#MasturbationMonday The Oral Sex Project

Degradation & Reward


It is, perhaps, an unusual kink, but I get off on being degraded. It is a huge turn on when Master C calls me His filthy slut. I love it when He publicly humiliates me in front of other people.

Nothing cements my place as a no-good, worthless slut than when Master C shows His contempt for me by inviting the other men within our circle to use me and, when they have finished with me, to cum all over me; denying me even the use of being a receptacle for their cum.

I love the filthiness of it, as one by one, they take it in turn to fuck me and discharge their loads all over me.

Sometimes Master C invites them to slap me or pull my hair. On other occasions He reminds me that I am barely fit to even be used by His friends; that they are only fucking me because they have no other need for me.

Even the women in the group are allowed to slap me, or thrash me, and tell me that I’m not worthy of having their partners’ loads inside me. Sometimes I will be forced to lick their partner’s cum from their cunts. Sometimes, when I’m on the verge of bringing one of the men off with my mouth, they will steal him back at the last moment, depriving me of my reward, and take his load for themselves.

I will be denied orgasms because I don’t deserve them. I will be tied up in the corner, unable to participate, able only to watch as the others in our circle enjoy each other’s bodies.

Sometimes however, if I have been a dutiful slut and performed my function to the fullest of my abilities, I will be rewarded and I will allowed to accept their loads in my hungry mouth.

For me, it is the ultimate recognition of my prowess as a slut, the highest reward for a (blow) job well done, a confirmation of my skill as a cocksucker.

When Master C fills my mouth with cum, it is all of the above and so much more besides.

For once Master C has decided that I have earned my reward, that I am not to be demeaned by having his load dumped over my face as punishment for some infraction or inadequacy. He is letting me savour his very manliness, the taste of his essence and, at the same time rewarding me for being a good girl, his slutty little, cum-hungry submissive. When Master C lets the other men fill my mouth, it is my reward for being a good “hostess”.

Afterwards, if I have been good; if I have been a proper slut and earned His redemption, afterwards Master C will run me a bath, wash me clean, kiss me and tell me that I am His “good girl” again. If, however, I have failed to redeem myself, a night, cum encrusted, sore, cold and alone awaits me.

It’s not easy being a cum slut. but then nothing worthwhile is ever easy (with the possible exception of me).

#MasturbationMonday