The humble hand-job


The hand-job is an often overlooked aspect of sexual activity; which is slightly ironic since, for many of us, it was the first overtly sexual act that we ever performed on another person. In my own particular case, I was 14 when I did it.

There was someone extremely exciting about the whole thing; the feeling of his cock growing hard in my hand,the moans of pleasure as I teased him with my fingers, the stiffening of his body and increasing raggedness of his breathing as his climax approached, and then the explosive release of his load when I finally took him past of no return.

Similarly, feeling his fingers pump in and out, twisting around inside me, stretching me as he attempted to work another inside my cunt really got me going. When his thumb pressed against my clit, my orgasm was so intense I thought I might faint.

For me, much of the enjoyment came from discovering the types of touches that drove him wild and then learning to prolong proceedings as much as possible; teasing, almost torturing him until he could take no more.

Of course, it wasn’t all one way traffic. I enjoy being teased too. Fingers driven skilfully into my cunt combined with clit being rubbed and flicked will give me an orgasm every bit as enjoyable as one resulting from a bloody good fucking. For the first few months as a sexually active person, until I discovered the joys of having him go down on me, every orgasm I experienced was either as a result of either his fingers or mine.

Today, the hand-job still plays an important part of my sexual repertoire; sometimes as part of foreplay, and sometimes as an event in its own right. Still the aim is the same, to give Master C as much pleasure as possible, and delaying his release for as long as possible. In the same way, Master C will skilfully use His fingers to take me to the brink of climax and then hold me there, hovering on the precipice until He decides whether or not it is time for me to come..

Of course, since those early days, I’ve also added my mouth and my boobs to my arsenal if ‘weapons’ that can be employed. Hand-jobs and blow-jobs work particularly well in tandem, but sometimes there is a lot of fun to be had from reverting back to those more “innocent” days of early sexual exploration.

Mutual masturbation can be a highly enjoyable experience; having Master C’s fingers working inside my cunt as I’m jerking Him off, both of us cuddled together can, in its own way, be every bit as intimate, sometimes even more so, than an intense fucking.

It also has the advantage of being something that can be done, almost blatantly in a public situation, for example on a train or in a cinema. A strategically placed jacket, a surreptitious undoing of the flies and you’re pretty much good to go.

Hands, and in particular fingers, are so much more versatile compared to cocks, cunts and tongues, and touch is such an important sense. The hand-job is almost an intrinsic part of sex-play, be it on our own, for our own pleasure, or with a partner. Far from being a solitary experience, masturbation can be a wonderfully shared source of pleasure, so let’s hear it for those wonderfully flexible digits that have been the source of so much pleasure.

#WickedWednesday Kink of the Week
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It’s not just about cock


I don’t claim to speak on behalf of the female population at large, but as I see things, there are four important parts of his body that a man should use when it comes to satisfying us women.  The more of these he can apply, the more satisfying any given sexual encounter is likely to be for us members of the fairer sex; and keeping us satisfied is, of course, the primary duty of those rugged, hairy beasts we choose to give our bodies to.

I suppose I could have also included the face as a fifth, since looks, and indeed physical attraction as a whole is, often the starting point; without attraction, sex isn’t likely to happen and the rest becomes academic. Also, attractiveness is important to blokes too. Furthermore, it’s almost impossible to quantify. Beauty is, as they say, only skin deep and very much in the eye of the beholder.

So, without any further ado, and in no particular order, I give you my essential men’s’ naughty bits.

1. Brain
So it’s a commonly held belief that men don’t have enough blood to supply both ends of their bodies but, to be honest, we women can be just as bad. The brain is often overlooked as a sexual organ but it is responsible for intelligence, wit, charm, attentiveness, creativeness and experimentation; all things that we women appreciate. Granted, depending on our mood, or what we’re looking for, the relative importance of each of the above elements will vary in relation to each other. In some cases, eg, in the case of a drunken, one night fumble, their importance may seem to vanish altogether but, at some subconscious level, they are still there. The simple fact is, you need to engage our minds before you will ever get the chance to engage any other part of our anatomy.

2. Mouth
Possibly the most versatile of the sexual organs in that it can be used in so many ways.

First, you can use it to tell us how good we look and how sexy we are (hint: you can never do this too often). You can tell us what you intend to do to us. You can ask us what we like (no, really, you can actually do this…). You can also moan and murmur with pleasure as we unleash our talents on you, letting us know how much you are enjoying our attentions. Believe it or not, some of us do like to be told even though it’s generally pretty obvious. Comparisons with exes (and/or other current partners for the benefit of the polyamorous) can sometimes be welcome, but only where favourable. When I’ve got my lips wrapped around your cock, the last thing I want to hear is that I’m almost as good as so-and-so, so if we aren’t actually the best you’ve ever had, either learn to lie (you’re guys and it’s sex we’re talking about after all so it should come naturally to you), or keep it zipped.

Second, there’s kissing. Be it soft, loving and tender, or rough and frantic, we love to be kissed, anywhere and everywhere. No part of our body is immune to touch of your lips. Sometimes, a good passionate snog is all we need (especially when our location means that getting naked and getting down to it would probably get us arrested). Kisses can be a simple show of affection or the can be a way of keeping us simmering until a more suitable time and appropriate location for more full on action presents itself.

Thirdly, there’s the tongue. It’s often been said that the only people who really know how to go down on a women are other women. While it may be true that, as women, we know how we like our cunts to be treated and so, as a result, we tend to go down on other women the way we would like them to go down on us, whereas guys tend to be a little more direct in their approach, I’ve always found that, with sufficient practice and familiarity with what the woman in question likes, men can be every bit as good. Different, yes, but just as satisfying. The key thing is, if you are uncertain, ask, don’t guess. We women are pretty good at telling you what we want when it comes to everything else and sex is no different. Most of us will appreciate such a show of consideration and attentiveness and it will almost definitely be rewarded.

3. Hands
Touch is very important. Whether it be fleeting contacts, gentle caresses through to sensual massage, or full body contact, we are tactile creatures and respond as such.

Of course, it’s not just the hands and fingers; hugs are equally important when it comes to making us feel wanted and appreciated. I’m getting a bit ahead of myself, but in my opinion, the post-coital cuddle is almost as an important part of the sexual experience as the act itself. That extended moment of shared closeness, both partners bathed in the warm glow of their exertions as their bodies slowly come down from their respective sexual highs is, for me anyway, as satisfying as any orgasm.

Of course, living as we do in this digital age, the fingers can be involved in another sexual activity: the naughty text/IM/email. For me, many sessions have began hours before there is any physical contact with a partner sending me flirtatious texts, each one getting that little more explicit than the last. By the time we actually get together, the anticipation is often so intense that no foreplay is actually necessary; I’m literally ready to do them on sight.

Clearly, this may not work for everyone, but if your partner is amiable to such things, try it, the results may be surprising.

4. Cock
Yes, so finally we get there, the “main event”. I think there’s a lot of truth to the adage about it not being what you’ve got but how well you use it. For me, a nice length is between 5½” and 7½”, but so long as I can feel it going in, I’m happy. If it really has to be ‘big’ I prefer thicker to longer.

The worst shag I ever had was with a guy who had a bigger than average cock. I think he was more concerned that I should be impressed with his size rather than his ability. In the end, it hurt and was all over very quickly. It may have been good for him, but it did next to nothing for me.

In an ideal world, I’d take size and technique (actually, I have that with Master C) but, failing that, I’ll settle for ability. Size on its own just doesn’t do it for me.

That said, however, it’s important that it isn’t just your cock that you are using. The reality is, for best results (for the woman anyway), the cock has to be used in conjunction with all of the others. I know, when you’re plunging into the warm wet confines of her cunt, or she has her lips wrapped around your shaft, that your concentration may be a bit vague (note earlier comment about insufficient blood supply), but don’t lose sight of the fact she should be enjoying it too; if in doubt, ask. Don’t forget to keep up the touch too, much as she may be (and she probably is) enjoying your cock stretching and filling her, remember the other bits too. I love having my boobs licked, sucked and caressed during sex and I’m pretty sure most other women do as well.

Depending on the position employed, use your hands to touch those bits of her that she likes to have touched (for me, back of neck, small of back, bum and inner thighs. If she likes it when you talk dirty, do that (within reason). And, above all, don’t forget to keep kissing! If you aren’t face to face, kiss whatever bit is in reach of your mouth.

OK, so it won’t be like that every time. Sometimes, what we want is a wham-bam-thank you-ma’am quickie but, if you take on board what she wants and respond to her needs and desires, the results will be worth it.

Who said we women weren’t demanding? Oh, that’s right, no one.

#WickedWednesday

Discarding my virginity


Let us be very clear, I did not lose my virginity; that has always implied a certain carelessness to me, and there was nothing careless about my first time. No, my first time was very much deliberate; I actively discarded my virginity.

As I’ve mentioned before, I did it for the first time a couple of weeks after my 15th birthday. There was no real significance to the timing; I didn’t deliberately wait until I turned 15, it’s simply that this was the first opportunity that presented itself. My boyfriend at the time and I already had a pretty active sex life and had had so for several months; the only thing absent from that sex life was actual penetrative sex. It was an omission I became increasingly keen to rectify.

It wasn’t that I felt under any pressure to get rid of my virginity, although a couple of my friends had already dispensed with theirs, it was simply that I wanted to experience it. I knew what it felt like to have a vibrator up me, I knew what it felt like to have my fingers up me, I even knew what it felt like to have someone else’s fingers up me, having experienced that from my boyfriend and my best girl friend, but I wanted to feel his cock (or, if I’m being completely honest, any cock) inside me. I knew what it felt like in my mouth, but in the same way that sucking your thumb feels nothing like sucking a cock, I imagined that being fucked by his cock would feel nothing being fucked by my, or his fingers.

The opportunity arose because on that particular Saturday both his parents were at work, and we would have his house to ourselves.

It all started of in what had become a familiar pattern; lying on his bed, kissing and cuddling, with quite a lot of groping and fondling. At a certain point, he got my top off and started lavishing attention on my boobs. Thereafter, I proceeded to suck him off, being rewarded with a lovely thick load of cum, which I hungrily swallowed down.

Pausing only to catch his breath, and to get me out of my jeans and knickers, he went down on me and ate me to a couple of shuddering climaxes that were intensified, in part, by the anticipation of what would happen next.

As my cunt spasmed around his fingers and my clit thronged in response to his tongue, I asked him if he was hard again. When he informed me that he was, I responded by saying, “Good, because I want your cock inside me.” The wolfish smile he gave me in return was almost enough to make me come again.

As he positioned himself above me, I closed my eyes and tried to imagine what it woulld feel like. I had a pretty good idea that images of cascading waterfalls and fireworks were a load of guff; I’d had enough orgasms without experiencing such imagery to know that wasn’t going to happen.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

I nodded and felt myself growing even moister as the head of his cock pressed against me. He slid into me slowly but easily. It was obvious he was enjoying feeling his cock being engulfed by my cunt as much as I was enjoying the sensation of him slowly filling me.

It felt good, I felt wonderfully, deliciously full. His cock was so much thicker and fuller than anything that I had ever had up me before. I had expected it to hurt and was pleasantly surprised that it didn’t; just a slight discomfort and a lovely feeling of being stretched and filled.

As he moved inside me, slowly at first, but with steadily increasing pace, I opened my eyes and saw him smiling down at me. “Harder,” I said, “You can go a bit harder.”

He picked up the pace, pulling out and thrusting in, his body colliding with mine, slamming against me with every stroke.

Suddenly, his face contorted, his body went stiff. He groaned: “Shit! Fuck! Morag! Fuck!” (or something equally as coherent and eloquent) as his cock erupted inside me. I felt the warmth of his cum inside me as he slumped on top of me. As his cock slipped out of my cunt and I felt his cum trickle out of me.

I didn’t come; I didn’t care. I had been fucked and it had been good. The second time we did it, later that afternoon was better still. Practice, as they say, makes perfect, and while we never achieved perfection in the time that we were together, the sex continued to get better and increasingly satisfying.

All in all, it’s fair to say, I enjoyed my first time.

#WickedWednesday Food For Thought Friday - #F4TFriday

Rub it in


I’m lying on my back, Master C standing over me, looking down at me, stroking His lovely thick cock in one hand. I know what’s going to happen next and, sure enough, moments later, thick, hot wads of warm, sticky cum splash over my boobs.

It’s something I love; the sensation of cum on my skin. That initial wet heat as it splashes against me, the sensation as it trickles over me. The way it feels as it cools and dries. It’s just all so fantastically filthy.

Not that it got the chance to dry.

No sooner had Master C disgorged all over me when He proceeded to bury His face between my thighs and, reaching up, began rubbing His cum into my boobs as He nibbled and licked my clit and labia.

This is one of may favourite things. Don’t ask my why. I love getting my boobs played with, I have a thing for cum, and I definitely have a thing for cunnilingus, so I guess the combination of all three just overloads my brain’s pleasure centres. Whatever the reason, it generally has me coming in virtually no time flat and this occasion was no exception.

Deliciously dirty and overwhelmingly orgasmic; what more could a wanton slut possibly ask for?  According to Master C, it’s good at preventing or, at the very least, reducing wrinkles. I remain to be convinced on this point, but so long as He is happy to keep “moisturising” me in this fashion, I’ll live with the results…

#WickedWednesday

A man on the brink


One of my favourite parts of sex, apart from my own orgasm, is that bit just before the man comes. It’s that eternally long drawn out moment where he tries to hold back and I agonise in a state of heightened anticipation, waiting for his release. There is something purely animal about a man who has reached the point of no return and is just about to flood your cunt full of cum.

I love to feel the tension in His body as Master C tries to hold on, milking every moment of His pleasure before he erupts. I love to feel the way His breathing becomes more laboured. I love the involuntary moans Master C makes in those final moments as He fights to contain the inevitable. I love the way his Hips thrust of their own volition between my thighs, counting down to the moment of eruption, knowing that His climax is inevitable.

What I love most of all, however, is the fact that, deep down, I know Master C, or indeed any man in this position, isn’t thinking of me any more; In those moments those men aren’t even fucking me, they are simply fucking. At this point in the proceedings, it doesn’t matter how considerate a lover the man in question is, the only thing that matters to him is his own climax; the fact that it’s my cunt his cock is buried in no longer matters, it could be any cunt; my body is simply the means to his end, my cunt, the receptacle for his seed.

As those last powerful few thrusts fill me, as his body goes tight, as the pressure insides him mounts and the doomsday clock ticks down to the point where Master C can hold back no longer, I know He isn’t thinking of me, He isn’t thinking of anything; He is simply a male in rut, just like any other, and the overpowering need for release blinds Him towards everything else.

Ironically, at this point, I am completely His. Master C owns me; He has used me and I long to feel Him release inside me, filling me, emptying Himself into me.

Time seems to come to a standstill. That final moment; that eternity of anticipation and then, with that last surging thrust, He comes. The tension drains from His body as His cum drains from His cock. As He comes, Master C moans my name; I have Him back, He is mine again and I am very definitely His.

When Master C slumps, spent on top of me, kissing me passionately, stroking my hair from my face, His cock making those post-climax, involuntary little thrusts as He basks in the afterglow of His release, I know Master C has retuned to me; He is once again the caring, considerate lover and no longer just a man driven by his urges and I am, once again, His devoted submissive and partner, not just a female body to be used for His pleasure.

Time begins again, and afterwards, as we lie snuggled together, I am so grateful that I am His and that Master C is mine.

#WickedWednesday

Marked


I was watching a porn clip earlier that really got my juices flowing. In it, the girl was going down on a guy in what was clearly some kind of public toilet.

The girl in question was probably in her mid twenties. pretty, blonde curlyish hair, blue eyes, and a very perky pair of boobs. They guy, well to be honest, the only bit of him I could see was the portion of his cock that wasn’t in her mouth, but it certainly looked like a very tasty specimen. I don’t speak much German, but it was pretty obvious he was enjoying the girl’s attentions.

Of course, after a few minutes of having his cock hungrily and enthusiastically sucked, he reaches his climax. Does he reward her for a (blow) job well done, and cum in her mouth? No, of course not; he pulls out and blows an unbelievably large load all over her face and boobs. If the average guy produces between 5ml and 10ml of ejaculate, this guy must have been storing it up for months; by the time he was finished, she looked like she’d had a pint of the stuff splashed on her. It did, however, look as sexy as fuck.

So, so far we’ve had:
– Sex in a semi-public place. Check!
– A pretty girl drenched in a thick load of cum. Check!

As you can see, it has already ticked a couple of my “Fuck Yeah” boxes.

She goes to clean herself up and is told, in one of the few words of German I know, very firmly, “Nein!”

The guy pulls up his shorts and proceeds to back out of the toilet, beckoning the girl, who is still naked, to follow.

So, quite clearly, we are about to have public humiliation. CHECK!

The toilet transpires to be one of those huts, next to a beach, where sunbathers can go to “freshen up”. The girl then has to walk past the people lying on their sunbeds, his cum still very noticeable on her skin, until she reaches the sea. Only once she is in the water, is she able to wash his cum off.

Needless to say, I found this short, seven or so minute clip, extremely hot. The wank and the orgasm that followed it lasted longer than the clip itself.

Part of me wanted to be that girl. The nakedness, the naughtiness, the shamelessness, the sluttiness. Not to mention she’d had the pleasure of having I mighty nice cock to suck on.

Part of me wanted to be that shameless exhibitionist; walking proudly, drenched in cum for all to see. Another part of me cringed in terror of the prospect that Master C may do something similar to me, while at the same time, I’m secretly hoping that He does.

So basically, if I absolutely had to create a porn site, it would definitely feature pretty girls getting drenched in cum before having to display their badge of sluttiness to anyone who just happened to be close enough to see it. And, if it just so happens that the woman who gets to be drenched with a lovely thick load of cum (or several) before being humiliated in public happens to be me on occasion, well, so much the better.

Now, on that delicious thought, if you’ll excuse me, I think I need to indulge in another wank.

#WickedWednesday

My favourite sex toy


Like many women, I love my toys. I have my ben-wa balls and my rampant rabbit, I have my discrete little vibrator that looks like a lipstick, I have my doxy that can take me from naught to screaming the roof off in a matter of seconds, and I have a lovely double ended dildo that not only fills my arse and cunt simultaneously, but has a little vibrating bit that stimulates my clit too. I have others, but those listed above are some of my favourites. My absolute favourite however, is thick, a little over 7″ long, and comes attached to a living, breathing, hard bodied, hairy man. I am, of course, talking about Master C’s cock.

Now, it should be abundantly clear to anyone who is even the most casual reader of this humble journal that I am submissive. I love when Master C takes control and dominates me. In fact, it goes much deeper than that, I NEED Master C to dominate me. I admit, however, there are also times when I very much need to be the one that is in charge. It is a side of me that that I don’t express very often, but Master C loves that, on occasion, I do.

It is not unknown for me to be waiting for Master C to come home from work, randy as hell, knickers soaked from anticipation, ready to jump on Him the moment He gets in. Usually, I would wait patiently, on my knees, for His return but in these situations I may simply drag Him into the bedroom, or push Him down on the sofa; sometimes I may even just have Him on the stairs in the hall.

Almost always, I will be on top. I’ll undo His trousers and pull them down, quickly followed by His boxers. Straddling Him, I’ll hitch my skirt up, reach back and grab His cock, teasing myself with the tip for several delicious moments or longer, before lowering myself on to it; impaling myself, inch by delicious inch on His length and feeling Master C stretch and fill me, as lower myself down.

Depending on what I’m wearing, I’ll allow my blouse to be unbuttoned, or my top to be pulled over my head, and my bra unclasped to allow Master C access to my boobs. I am, after all, a sucker for nipple stimulation.

Sometimes I will wake up in need of a fuck. Most often, wake-up sex is initiated by Master C, but sometimes it’s me. I’ll stroke His cock until He’s hard before climbing aboard and riding His cock with abandon.

Often, I’ll fuck Master C until He erupts inside me; flooding my cunt with His rich, hot sticky cum. At other times I’ll break off and move up, lowering my cunt to His mouth and have Him lick me to a shuddering climax or two before rolling over and have Him take me hard and fast. Sometimes, if I’ve satisfied myself on His cock, I’ll finish up by taking Him in my mouth; savouring the taste of my juices on his shaft, until Master C comes, our individual tastes mixing in my mouth.

I love the feeling of control. I love being in command of my own pleasure. I love occasionally being able to “use” Master C in a way that gives me sensations all over my body in a way that no simple piece of plastic, vibrating or otherwise can provide. I also love that Master C allows me to “use Him” in this way.

Most of all though, I just love fucking and being fucked by Master C.

#WickedWednesday

Waiting


I am on my knees; head downcast, naked, blindfolded, my hands tied securely behind my back. Helpless. Bound. At His mercy.

He has me exactly where, and how, He wants me. I can do nothing but wait for Him to use me as He desires.

The anticipation burns as I wait for Him. I endure His scrutiny; feeling His eyes on me as He slowly walks around me; occasionally filling my ears with the loud snapping crack of His belt.

He examines me. Although I cannot see Him, I can sense how He views me. I yearn for His touch. I hunger for His command; eager to obey His slightest whim.

His silence is agonising. My cunt is hot and wet. I long for Him to acknowledge me, to give me some indication of His desire, His need.

I wait in silence; enduring each second as it ticks by. My legs begin to cramp in the uncomfortable position of my submission to Him.

I wait in silence, as the sound of leather cracking against leather fills my senses.

Discomfort wars with anticipation, pain with arousal. What is His will? What does He require of me?

A shiver runs through me as the belt coils around my neck. It presses my skin as He pulls it tight.

A sharp tug forces me to raise my head.

I become aware of His breathing; rapid, laboured. I can almost feel His pre-climactic tension. Apart from His breathing and the rhythmic beat of His hand stroking His cock, there is silence.

He groans.

His cum strikes my face like a blow from His hand. Hot, rich, sticky; I feel it trickle down my face, warming my skin as moves.

At last, He speaks. “Open your mouth, little one. Taste your reward.”

I comply. His cock fills my mouth. I tighten my lips around Him and savour the taste of His essence.

#WickedWednesday

Wet


It’s that moment. He has turned me on. His lips, his tongue, His fingers have all worked their magic. My body is a quivering mass of anticipation. My cunt aches with the need to filled. And then, just then, He touches me; tracing a finger between my labia, feeling my wetness for the first time.

It is a moment that I particularly love; that moment when Master C feels just how wet He has made me; just how ready I am for His cock to fill me.

That first touch can be all that is needed sometimes to set me off, to ignite my orgasm while at the same time wanting so much more.

Spreading me open with His fingers; coating them with my juices. Will He anoint my nipples with my essence? Will He make me taste myself on Him? His fingers in my mouth so close to my nose that I can inhale the scent of my arousal as I lick His fingers clean. Will He drive a finger deep inside me? In that moment, I am helpless, undone, His to do with however He so desires. Will He lick me? Will He fuck me? Will He tease me some more?

It is such a delicious moment; that moment where He discovers just how much He has turned me on, just how much I want and need Him, just how much I hunger to feel his wonderfully hard cock inside me.

And then, that almost agonising moment when His fingers are gone, and the anticipation builds for what He is about to do next.

#WickedWednesday

Misbehaving


When I’m bad, I know there is a very good chance I will feel Master C’s belt. Sometimes, if I’m being honest, I will deliberately misbehave, just so I can feel its kiss on my skin, and the deliciously uncomfortable glow that is its aftermath.

Master C never resorts to the belt without good reason, it is the ultimate punishment. As I’ve mentioned previously, I both fear and love its application.

When His belt lands against my skin, it is a reminder of how naughty I have been. It is a statement of His displeasure and a notice that I must earn forgiveness. Sometimes, earning that forgiveness is even more fun the misbehaviour that earned me the thrashing in the first place.

As with so many things, it is a reminder of my submission to Him; its marks, the badge of His ownership; its pain, a lesson to be learned, an example of His care and guidance.

Long after the belt has done its work, and I have performed whatever acts of contrition were required to atone for my transgression, the warm rosy glow remains. As the marks turn to a deep, angry purple before slowly fading, they become a reminder of both my misdeeds and Master C‘s loving guidance. It is both a symbol of my shame and of my redemption.

I love what Master C‘s belt and its resultant markings mean.

You could say I am a glutton for punishment.

#WickedWednesday