My first vibrator


I bought my first vibrator when I was 16. This was in a pre-internet age, where I cut out a coupon from one of my brother’s naughty magazines, paid by postal order (I was too young to have a cheque book or credit card) and had to allow 28 days for delivery and then hope to hell that the discreet packaging it said it would be delivered in was, in fact, discreet, and that my mum didn’t open it for me.

Thankfully it was, and she didn’t.

On the day it arrived, I couldn’t wait to try it. Of course, this pre-internet age was also the age of batteries not included, and as it was a Wednesday (which meant half-day trading in those days, of course), the post hadn’t arrived until after the village shop had shut, I had to improvise.

Now, this was 1991. It was about 6″ long, about 1½” in diameter, shaped like a nuclear missile and, as I was about to find out, about as noisy as one too. It took two “C” size batteries for fuck sake. The only way I could power it up was to steal the batteries from one of the torches in the cupboard under the stairs. When I turned the thing on, I nearly leapt out of my skin; not because of the vibrations, which were powerful enough I guess (having nothing to compare it with), but because of the noise. Discreet, it most certainly was not. Even muffled under the bedclothes, I was certain that it could probably be heard downstairs; hell, my best friend could probably hear it and she lived on the other side of the village.

Suffice to say, while pleasant, and while I did, eventually, get myself off, the whole experience was spent on tenterhooks, expecting at any moment to have someone knocking on my bedroom door, demanding to know what was making all the racket.

The whole experience was, I’ll admit, somewhat disconcerting. Far from needing to peel myself of the ceiling as I’d expected, I found that I could come quicker using my fingers. The one good thing about it was that, when switched off, it made me feel deliciously full, albeit in a hard, inflexible piece of plastic sort of way, which certainly helped me.

As it turned out, it got used more as a dildo than it ever did as a vibrator, the only time I ever dared switch it on was when I knew I had the house to myself. I’d have probably felt safer if I had the entire village to myself, but sometimes you just have to go with what circumstances provide.

The one thing I did make sure of was that the next one I bought, was a hell of a lot quieter.

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Friends reunited


As I mentioned in my last post, on Saturday, I managed to meet up with “The Girl” for the first time since September. Our reunion was everything I expected. There were smiles, there were tears, there were hugs, there was laughter and, yes, there were orgasms.

It was lovely to simply see her and talk to her in person again. Yes, we have kept in touch, but Zoom calls don’t quite do it. It was, however, pretty obvious from the outset that we were not going to be restricting ourselves to chat. From the very first peck on the cheek, the first hand on the other’s arm or shoulder, we both knew exactly where this encounter was heading.

So, not to beat about the bush, as it were, things moved in the direction we both knew they were moving and ended up exactly where we both wanted them to be.

Feeling “The Girl’s” body next to mine again, feeling her skin beneath my fingers as her hands caressed mine was simply wonderful. From the first kiss, we just melted into each other and let nearly 9 months of pent up hunger for each other fall away.

Fingers tickled and teased. Lips kissed and explored. Teeth nipped and nibbled. Tongues flicked and licked. Orgasms ignited, subsided and flared again.

It felt so good to taste her and to taste me on her. The scent and taste of her cunt was intoxicating as I feasted hungrily upon it. The intensity of the sensations as her fingers twisted inside my cunt, and her tongue tormented my clit was simply divine.

The last 9 months were simply stripped away as we took each to the heights of orgasm again and again; sometimes using our fingers to tease each other’s cunts, sometimes using our lips and tongues to drive each other wild.

Time, such as it had any meaning at all, was measured in heartbeats, in kisses, in sighs and moans, in climaxes and cuddles and it all felt so right, so wonderful.

Afterwards, at home, Master C, as I knew he would, required me to recount every detail; making me relive the events of the afternoon and evening as I told Him everything. Occasionally He would require more specific detail. Sometimes He would stop me and do to me the very thing I had just described that “The Girl” had done earlier.

“Did she do this?” He’s ask, pinching my nipples as His tongue beat on my clit. “Was it like this?” He’d enquire as He slid one, then two fingers up inside me and twisted them around. “Did you taste like this?” He’d ask, lifting His fingers to my lips and slipping them into my mouth.

When I’d told Master C all the was to tell, He spun me around, told me to brace myself, and reminded me of the one thing “The Girl” couldn’t do.

He fucked me hard, driving His cock into my cunt with powerful thrusts. Having been taken so tenderly by “The Girl”, it felt so good to be used by Master C; the differences so apparent as He fucked me; the rougher touch of His hands, the firmness of His body, the coarseness of the stubble on His face and, of course, His cock; His wonderful thick, hard cock that was pounding me mercilessly.

As the end approached, He spun me around again and demanded that I took Him in His mouth. For an intense moment I tasted myself on His cock before He filled my mouth with a deliciously think load of cum.

We would fuck again later; Master C eating me to the edge of another shuddering climax, having held me on the brink for what seemed like eternity before finally using His cock to ignite my release as He fucked me beyond my ability to hold on.

All in all, it was a fantastic day and a wonderful way to see in the new month.

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Times are a changin’


If I’m being completely honest, my sex life is pretty much as perfect as anyone could hope for. In Master C, not only do I have a caring and attentive partner, who knows my body and my needs and attends to them regularly and fully, I also have a strict, but fair Master who allows me to be who I am and to do what I want with whom I want so long as I am willing to accept my actions have consequences. I get quality, quantity and variety. It’s a win-win that makes me a very happy slutty but satisfied submissive.

Of course, the one fly in the ointment has been that, for much of the past 12 months, I haven’t been able to enjoy the freedoms that Master C allows me to have.

Now, this isn’t exactly a hardship. I do miss spending time with “The Other Guy” and I also miss the thrill of my occasional random dalliances, but at the end of the day, other than novelty, they don’t give me anything that Master C doesn’t already lavish on me. If I want a cock in any of my holes, Master C’s cock will always be my first cock of choice and is absolutely my preferred cock. “The Other Guy” is also very acquainted with my body, and also elicits the most fabulous responses from me, but such encounters are occasional; at most 2-3 times a year. As for the randoms, well, that’s just fucking. They don’t know me, they don’t know what buttons to push to really turn me on, they are simply a form of “cock on demand” for when an urge that can’t wait until I get home (and the need to be soundly punished when I do) takes me.

No, all things aside, I don’t actually miss any of that.

There is, however, one person I do really miss, and that is “The Girl”. I’ve mentioned before that “The Girl” and I have had an intimate friendship stretching back over 30 years (we been friends for over 40 but the “intimate” is the key bit in that sentence), and she was the first person (other than myself) to bring me to orgasm. I always love the time we spend together, whether it be having sex or simply chatting over a glass or several of wine (although, more often than not, that often leads to sex too). I love exploring the soft curves of her body with my hands, lips and tongue. I love the taste of her cunt, I love the silly little noises and facial expressions she makes when she is aroused and when she comes and I love the things that does to me and how those make me feel.

I long to hold her and be held by her, to kiss her and be kissed by her, to feel her body pressed against mine. I yearn for the sensations of her fingers sliding and twisting inside my cunt, teasing me, tormenting me. I hunger for the taste of her cunt and the feeling of her tongue on mine; so different from Master C’s, but still able to take me to the edge of the precipice and hold me there before finally igniting my climax.

Mentioning Master C, I also miss the “punishment fucks” that sex with “The Girl” will earn me. The fucks where he shows me “what I was missing” and what “she can’t give me”. Those fucks are always wonderfully intense, especially since the retelling of what “The Girl” and I got up to allows me to relive those things before Master C fucks me.

So, where does this all tie in with the prompt? Well, it’s quite simple. Thanks to the changes in Covid related restrictions, in a few hours time, “The Girl” and I will be meeting up, in person, for the first time since September. This is “the change” I have been wishing for the most; not just for the sex, but for the chance to be with and catch-up with my oldest and dearest friend for the first time in what seems like forever. I’m imagining so many things; far more than can fit into a single afternoon encounter, and I’m hoping this means we will be able to spend many more afternoons together again. After all, we have a lot of catching up to do…

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Just take me…


As I’ve mentioned before, I’m am very much a submissive and I love to be dominated. I don’t necessarily mean in a sadomasochistic/bondage kind of way (although, I’m not averse to being restrained on occasion), but just that I like to be taken in a way where when Master C does things to me, it’s simply because it’s what He wants to do and not because He is trying to respond to what I might want. In these situations my pleasure derives solely from the fact that Master C is taking His pleasure from me, doing what He does because He wants to and is enjoying it.

There’s something decidedly primal about it. It doesn’t have to be rough (although it often can be, and that’s fine too), it’s just knowing that Master C is going to take me and do to me as He pleases, and I just have to take whatever is dished out.

It’s the knowing that, when Master C sucks on my boobs, it’s because that’s what He wants to do, and not because He knows I like it. When Master C forces his cock between my lips, into my mouth and deep into the back of my throat, chocking me with its fullness as His strong hand tightens around my neck, it’s because He wants to feel my throat tighten around the swollen head, starving me of oxygen. When Master C sinks his cock into my cunt and begins to fuck me, it’s because of His sexual urge, His most basic need. In that particular moment, the fact that it’s me that Master C’s fucking is immaterial, all that matters is that His cock is inside a tight, warm, wet and willing cunt and that He is going to keep fucking it until He comes. It’s the fact that no matter how caring and considerate a lover Master C is (and believe me, He is usually very considerate), at this particular moment, He is being driven by His own ‘selfish’ sexual desire; my needs are of no consequence and that I’m simply there as a means to facilitate His desire. I am there to yield to Him, to give myself to Him utterly, to receive Him and to be used by Him.

It’s the knowing how much Mater C is enjoying having His way with my body that gives me my pleasure (that, combined with the fact that I’m still getting a bloody good seeing-to). I may not always come in these situations (but I frequently do) but it still leaves me with a deep sense of satisfaction; to have been taken so utterly, so completely, to have been used for His fulfilment, to have Him collapse on top of me, breathless and drained, pinning me beneath Him, His cum warm inside me or on my skin.

Don’t get me wrong, I like tenderness, I like consideration, I love the deep emotional connection of mutual pleasure, but sometimes, what it all boils down to is, I just want to be fucked and I know I can depend on Master C to do just that whenever the urge takes Him.

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On my knees


Whether it’s facing Master C, ready to take His cock in my mouth, or facing away, bracing myself, ready to feel Him in my cunt or arse, I spend a lot of time on my knees.

When I’m sucking His cock, I love to look up at Master C, making eye contact as I take Him deep into the back of my throat. As I kneel between His legs, Mater C puts His hands on my head and forces His cock deeper. I look up through my lashes and see the look of hunger in His eyes.

Turning away from Him, I brace myself, waiting for Master C to take me. The anticipation grows as His hands grip my hips, peaking as I feel the head of His wonderful cock press against the entrance of His choice. My body moves as Master C plunges into me. Sometimes He grabs my hair, pulling my head back painfully, at other times, He’ll push me forward, forcing my face towards the floor as He fucks me with long, hard, forceful thrusts of His magnificent cock.

Of course, it’s not just about blow-jobs and fucking. I kneel to receive His spankings, I kneel when I await the bite of His belt on my arse, I kneel when I thank Master C for my punishment.

I spend a lot of time on my knees, and I love every moment I spend on them.

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It’s as if he hates me


Sometimes I like to be abused. When Master C calls me a filthy little bitch, or a dirty whore, punctuating His words with slaps across my cheeks that bring tears to my eyes and set my cunt juices flowing.

When Master C bends me over his knee, yanks my knickers down and spanks me hard until I cry, I get a warm feeling inside.

When His belt cuts into the skin of my arse cheeks and Master C tells me that I’m a worthless slut who deserves to be punished, my desire to feel His cock inside me grows.

When Master C rams his cock forcefully down my throat, making choke and splitter, I can’t wait to taste His cum.

As Master C fucks me hard from behind, abusing my cunt or my arse, I love it when He tugs my hair, pulling my head back as far as my neck will allow. All the time He fucks me, He’s telling me how I’m just a collection of holes to be used, abused and filled with cum.

When Master C comes all over my face, degrading me, showing His utmost contempt for me as He wipes His cock in my hair, I know I am His, and that I belong to Him.

Later, as Master C holds me close in bed, His strong arms enveloping and protecting me, I am grateful to be His.

Yes, I love it when Master C fucks me like He hates me.

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Degrading or delightful?


Porn, it must be said, is obsessed with the visibility of the male orgasm. It’s not very often that the guy actually comes inside the woman. In the vast majority of cases the woman sits there in open-mouthed expectation while, from almost point blank range, he manages to almost completely miss her mouth and covers her face in a thick load of cum, in a way that many of porn’s critics say is humiliating and degrading.

And here’s the thing, the critics are right. There is, in my opinion, little that is more humiliating than having a load of cum dumped over your face, unless, of course, its having several loads of cum dumped on your face. If nothing else, it show a contemptuous lack of respect for the woman. Far from sex being a loving, passionate shared experience, it becomes an act of male control and degradation of women. That doesn’t, however, necessarily make it a bad thing. In fact, I love having it done to me.

For Him, it is a control thing, a marking of His ownership in a contemptuous fashion; He’s fucked me, taken His pleasure from me, and with a total disrespect for me, He inflicts the ultimate humiliation of deciding I am unworthy of receiving Mis seed, and marking me for the filthy, worthless slut that I am.

Now, I accept that this might not be everyone’s cup of tea but, as I said above, I happen to love it.

I am, you see, a self-confessed cum-slut. I have a fascination for the substance. I am, as I have admitted to on many occasions, hopelessly submissive, and I love to be dominated. I love Master C’s cum wherever it ends up; inside me or on me, but there is something especially deliciously dirty about getting it all over my face. It makes me feel used, it makes me feel slutty and, perhaps bizarre, it makes me feel appreciated.

This may seem a little strange to an outsider, but it does, to me at least, make a perverse kind of sense. You see, as much as Master C is marking His possession of me, at the same time, He is confirming that I am His; it’s a renewal of our commitment to each other in a filthy  warm, sticky liquid way. In that way, far from being disrespectful or humiliating, Master C is paying me the compliment of letting me know that He is proud to have me as His filthy, submissive slut.

Love, and affection can be shown in many different ways, and in our D/s relationship, this is simply one of the ways Master C shows His appreciation of me. I accept that some people not used to the D/s scene may find this strange, but it means so much to me. I am His, and when He comes all over my face, Master C is confirming both His ownership of me and my status as His submissive little slut. He is also satisfying my love of this wonderful substance.

One word of warning though, however much a woman might love being drenched in cum, just try not to get it in her hair…

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Cunt


I love the word cunt; so coarse, so harsh a word for something so warm, soft, inviting and, ultimately welcoming. It is, however, a very satisfying word. Cunt: it just rolls of the tongue. It has a lovely, earthy Anglo Saxon feel about it, the way so many of our sex words have. Cock, cunt, fuck; such short forceful words that combine so well together, both on the page and in the flesh.

It hasn’t always been my cunt. When I was much younger, it was my fanny. When I was a bit older, it became my pussy. Occasionally, mostly because I’m redheaded, it got referred to as a minge, because that rhymes so playfully with ginge.

I never really liked pussy as a descriptive term. Yes, mine is sometimes “furry” after a fashion, and it does love being stroked, but in its own way pussy always seemed to be almost as childish a name as fanny.

I can’t exactly remember the first time a partner referred to it as a cunt. I do remember thinking, “Yes! That’s what it is. It is my cunt!” I remember enjoying the things his tongue was doing to my cunt. I remember how I felt as his cock fucked my cunt. That wasn’t just its name, that was what it was. It completed the unholy trinity of C words: cock, clit, and now cunt.

From then on, when a guy, or girl, went down on me, he/she licked my cunt, tasted my cunt, ate my cunt. When I had sex with me, he fucked my cunt. And when I masturbated, I would frig my cunt.

Frig. Wank. Cock. Fuck. Arse. Cunt.

Such short, sharp, harsh, vulgar yet, at the same time, beautiful words.

And then of course there is one more; slut, for that is what I am. A filthy, greedy, insatiable, submissive little slut. A slut who craves nothing more than Master C’s cock, whether it be in her mouth, her arse or her cunt. A slut who loves to be told how warm and tight her cunt feels around her Master’s cock. A slut who loves to fee Master C’s tongue lapping her juices from her cunt. A slut who just simply loves her cunt licked, fucked and generally used however Master C deems fit.

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An “A-Z” of Wanks


In celebration of May being World Masturbation Month, I thought it might be fun to try and give an A-Z of wanks. You might have different names for some of these, but I’m sure you will recognise at least some of them.

A – The Anger Wank
We’ve all been there, a bad day at the office, a friend has pissed you off, you get home to find the cat has puked all over the sofa. You’re annoyed, you’ve had enough. What better way to work of your frustrations than dig out a favourite toy or two and give yourself a couple of shuddering orgasms. It won’t fix your problems, but it will make you feel better about things.

B – The Basic Wank
Can’t be bothered faffing around with toys, lube, etc.? Take it back to basics; enjoy a session with your fingers and your own natural lubricant. Relive the joy of those first furtive fingerings that you gave yourself so many years ago. Sometimes, less is more.

C – The Cunt Filler
Fingers not quite cutting it? Want to feel stretched and full? You remember that mammoth, super-sized dildo you’ve got stashed away for those “need a bit more” situations. Ram it in and feel that delicious fullness.

D – The Danger Wank
We all need excitement. The thrill of the risk of being caught adds to the arousal. It’s the wank in public or semi-public places.

E – The Eclectic Wank
You want to get off, but can’t quite decide how. Fingers? Toys? Frotting against an inanimate object? All of the aforementioned? It’s the wank where you use every tool in your arsenal to get yourself off.

F – The “Fuck This! I’m Having A Wank” Wank
Housework to be done? Ironing to be put away? Washing piling up? You know what, I can’t be arsed, I think I’ll have a wank first.

G – The Gratuitous Wank
The one you do in front of your partner because they are failing to meet your needs (can also be combined with The Anger Wank). You’re doing it for you, not for them. You’re having a wank and you don’t care if they know about it; in fact, you want them to know about it.

H – The Happy Wank
You’re in a great mood, you may or may not know the reason for this, but you’re sure as hell going to enjoy it. And what better way to make a little happiness go that bit further? Yup, work that clit/cock.

I – The Insecure Wank
First date nerves? Worried about if he/she will like/want to fuck you? Settle down and settle yourself before you go out with a quick reminder of just why you are fabulous.

J – The Jealous Wank
Just seen your ex with their latest partner? Feeling a bit down about it. Cheer yourself up with a reminder of what they are now missing out on: you. Can be combined with the Anger and Insecure wanks.

K – The Killer Wank
The kind of wank that leaves you more than just breathless.  You’ve climaxed so hard and so often that you actually feel like you’ve endangered your very existence.

L – The Learning Wank
It’s back to the beginning. It’s the way we learned how we liked to be touched. Thinking back brings back memories of a more “innocent” time.

M – The Mighty Moaner
The frustration has been building up. The release is so powerful. You shout your pleasure from the rooftops and you don’t care who hears you (with the possible exception of your parents). Sometimes combined with The Killer Wank.

N – The Normal Wank
This is your default wank. The one you fall back on when you haven’t the energy/can’t be arsed with anything else. It’s reliable, you know it works, so why fix it?

O – The OMFG!!! Wank
A variation of The Killer Wank and The Mighty Moaner. It produces orgasms so strong you feel like you won’t be able to move for about a week.

P – The Preparation Wank
You know you’re going to get a bloody good seeing-to, but you can’t wait to get started, so you have a quick bit of me time to start things moving.

Q – The Quiet Wank
It’s the middle of the night. You wake up feeling as randy as hell. Beside you, your partner is sleeping soundly, snoring and drooling into their pillow. It would be a shame to wake them. So, quietly does it, trying hard not to disturb them as you wank yourself back to sleep.

R – The Rushed Wank
You’ve got some place to be. You’re meeting a friend for a drink. It’s taken you forever to get ready and if you don’t hurry up, you will definitely be late. One small snag, you’re randy. Probably just got time to dig out the Doxy and scrape yourself of the ceiling after 30 seconds.

S – The Sensual Wank
You have all the time in the world, so take it slowly. Use your favourite body oils and creams. Take time to ensure every inch of you tingles. Savour it. Wallow in it. Enjoy it.

T – The Toy Wank
You want to feel full, you want to feel something thrust deep inside you. You want your cunt to squeeze and grip hard on something as you come.  It’s time for toys. The Cunt Filler is a subset of this wank.

U – The Unexpected Wank
You hadn’t planned to have one; you weren’t even aware that you were particularly randy. Suddenly, midway through Eastenders, you unexpectedly find yourself with your fingers in you knickers. Well, let’s be honest, almost anything is better than watching Eastenders.

V – The Variety Wank
Similar in a way to The Eclectic Wank, but this time the variety is deliberate. You’ve carefully chosen out what toys you are going to use, the lube to apply and you’ve got it all worked out in advance so that you use them all.

W – The Watching Wank
Whether it’s you watching your partner or your partner watching you, or maybe you’re simultaneously watching each other, having an audience can make the experience even more intimate. Can be combined with just about every other wank described in this post.

X – The X-Rated Wank
This is the wank that you do deliberately for your partner. Sometimes also known as the Exhibitionist Wank. You are putting on a show. Your self-pleasure is as much for their arousal as it is for your own enjoyment.
Warning: Can lead to a long, hard, intense fuck.

Y – The “You Touch Me” Wank
Wanking is not a solitary experience. Having a partner bring you off with their fingers, or you doing it to them can be a deeply intense sexual experience.

Z – The Zumba Instructor
I’m cheating here because I can’t think of anything beginning with Z. That said, my Zumba instructor is seriously hot and I would love to do very naughty things to and with her. So maybe this is the category for all those fantasy filled wanks with the people you will never have.

So, there you go, my quick “A-Z” of Wanks, which I hope amused you.

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Bad sex


It’s pretty much accepted that bad is the opposite of good. This definition implies that the thing that is “bad” is somehow deficient, substandard, of poor quality and unsatisfactory. Now I’m no different from any other woman and, if we’re being honest, we’ve all had sexual encounters that fit the above description.

I know I could recount any of a number of disappointing fucks, and worse still, non-fucks for this feature. The trouble is, the telling of them would almost be as disappointing as the experiences were themselves.

So I decided to attempt to come at the topic more laterally than literally. What if there was another definition of bad that I could use?

Well, being naughty is being bad, isn’t it? Anyone who reads this blog will know that I have a penchant for naughtiness. The only problem was which story to recount? I hope you enjoy the one I’ve settled on.

It was a Sunday and Master C and I were enjoying an extended lie in. His attentions were beginning to take a more amorous turn when the phone rang. It was my mum. Normally I wouldn’t answer, but since I was intent on enjoying my lie in, I decided it was better to answer now, before things got intense, than to risk her deciding to pop round while I was in the process of being soundly seen to.

“Hello, mum… No I’m fine… He’s fine too… No really, you’re not interrupting… Really…” and so on.

Master C, however, was not to be thwarted. His hand slide up my thigh and His fingers lightly brushed my lower lips. I pushed His hand away with a slightly irritated “Get off!”

“What was that dear?”

“No mum, you’re really not interrupting, it was just the cat jumping on me.”

I glared at Master C. He stuck His tongue out. He clearly wasn’t going to be deterred. Smiling wickedly, He continued to tease me as my mum made small talk in my ear.

I could feel my body respond as His fingers stoked, probed, and teased. I had to concentrate every effort to keep my voice sounding natural.

I let out an involuntary “Umf!” as He pushed a finger up inside.

“That wasn’t the cat again was it dear?”

“Um, yes. The bloody animal is being a proper bloody pest.”

I closed my eyes, grinding my cunt against His hand, pushing my hips forward to force His finger deeper inside me.

In my defense, it was quite easy to keep up the pretense of a normal conversation. My mum is a stream of consciousness when she is on the phone and all I really had to do my make sure I interjected from time to time with the odd “Yes” or “No” or “Mmmm hmmm”. So long as she did ask me anything that required extended articulation, I was quite safe.

At that point Master C decided to up the ante. He slid down the bed, positioned Himself between my legs, applied His mouth to my cunt and proceeded to feast.

Torture!

Did I want Master C to stop? No I didn’t. The naughtiness of the situation, my mum rabbitting on in my ear, completely unaware while His tongue lashed my clit made the situation so unbearably arousing.

As the sensations grew, I was helpless to prevent a soft moan from escaping. I managed, somewhat convincingly I thought, to turn it into something sounding like a yawn.

“That’ll be that man and of yours keeping you up past your bedtime again, I assume,” she commented in a knowingly, joking, one woman to another fashion.

“Uh, er, yes mum.” If she only knew; if she only really knew.

The pressure for release was becoming unbearable. I needed to come, but before I could do that, I needed to get my mum off the phone. I wracked my endorphin soaked brain for a reason to end the call.

“Mum, um, look, um, I’m sorry but I’m, uh absolutely bursting. I um, ah, have to go. See you this, ah, evening, ok?” It was the best I could manage.

“Ok dear, won’t keep you. Have a nice afternoon.”

“Yes mum, we will,” get off the phone, please.

“And give my love to…”

“I will,” will you please get off the fucking phone?

“See you later.”

“Mmmm, yes, later,” gripping the edge of the mattress with my free hand.

“Bye, Morag love.”

“Bye mum.”

I hang up and drop the phone. Master C reached up and grabbed my nipples as His tongue beat on my clit.

I can take no more. “Fuck yesssss!” I scream, releasing the pent up tension and frustration. My back arches off the bed, my body shakes as I am gripped by the mother, father aunt and uncle of all climaxes.

When I come back down, Master C smiles at me; His cock is hard and swollen. Part of me wants to deny Him, to punish Him for the torture He subjected me to, but how can I not thank him for an orgasm that intense.

“If you want me to suck that, you’re going to have to come up here, I haven’t the energy to move.”

Smiling, Master C moved back up the bed. I turned my head towards Him. He slipped His lovely thick, hard cock between my lips.

Master C is sometimes very naughty; and if naughty is bad, then this was very bad sex indeed.

Food For Thought Friday - #F4TFriday May Has Cum - World Masturbation Month