Virtuoso performance


I love the feeling as Master C runs His fingers up the insides of my thighs. Teasing me; never quite touching the lips of my cunt, always pulling away at the very last instant.  The teasing is a delicious form of torture; I want Master C to touch me there; to feel my warmth, my wetness. I want to feel His fingers inside me, pumping in and out and twisting around.

The approach…

The retreat…

His fingers caress my skin like those of concert pianist stroking the ivory keys in front of Him.

Each time it drives me crazy. Each time it makes me that little bit more hungry, more desperate for that most intimate of touches. Each time I think He can’t possibly tease me any more, but He does.

And then I gasp, and quiver, as a finger brushes lightly against my folds. My legs part a little more, allowing Him more access should He require it.

A little more pressure, a slightly firmer touch; my lower lips part and my juices flow. My clit pulses as Master C presses his thumb to it and then, oh… oh! That moment when He slowly inserts the tip of his finger.

My body is a finely tuned instrument that Master C plays with an easy virtuosity that comes from knowing just which keys to press.

In He pushes, deeper and deeper. He pulls right back and I feel a second join it, stretching me as they work their way in. My cunt grips them tight as they begin to pump in and out. I squeeze my nipples as His fingers work their magic on my cunt. My moans, a counterpoint harmony to the soft sounds of His fingers playing my cunt.

What’s this? A third? I try to relax as Master C works another digit inside me. His thick, strong fingers open me up wide as He pushes them deep inside me.

He pushes in harder, He pushes in deeper; I tug hard on my nipples as He fucks me with his fingers. My moans become cries; a chorus that He is conducting.

And now a fourth squeezes inside me. Only his thumb remains outside to tease my clit.

Harder… Deeper… Rougher… It feels so good.

My orgasm builds with in me. My cunt spasms around His fingers. My cunt throbs under His thumb.

My back arches. I throw my head back and moan as the sensations consume me, claim me, hold me. My climax, a crescendo that demonstrates the skill with which He performs His art.

Again… Again… How much more can my poor cunt take?

And then he is gone. He touches his fingers to my lips, and I taste myself on his fingers.

A pause… Silence… The first movement is over, the second is yet to begin…

 

#WickedWednesday
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Two words


“Bend over!”

I’ll admit, as foreplay goes, it’s not exactly extensive, but sometimes it’s all I need.

I don’t think there is any other combination of two words that can have more of an effect on me. Said in the right tone, and with the right degree of forcefulness, they can reduce me to a quivering mess of anticipation. No other two words will make my cunt instantly wet.

And as I comply with His demand I bite my lip as I wait for Master C to flip my skirt up over my arse, or pull my jeans down around my ankles, and yank my knickers out of His way.

With my arse exposed, I wonder what Master C has planned for me; is He just going to fuck me, does He plan to spank me, or will wield His belt?

In fairness, it doesn’t matter what His intentions are, I am ready; I want whatever Master C decides. As every second passes, the anticipation mounts, and my cunt grows hotter and wetter.

A hand slips between my legs, feeling how wet I am, how ready I am for Him. A shiver of excitement runs through me, my clit throbs slightly in response to His touch.

I want His cock inside me, filling me, pounding me, fucking me hard. I want Master C to take me, to use me, to cum deep inside of me. I don’t just want it, I need it. My whole body aches for Him.

Master C grabs a handful of my hair. He pulls my head back. Will it be His belt, or His cock? I still don’t know.

“Are you ready?” He asks.

“Yes!” I sob.

I brace myself for whatever is about to come next.

Sometimes “Bend over!” is all the foreplay I need.

#KinkOfTheWeek

The things He does


When He looks at me, I feel His hunger and desire for me. I know that He wants me.

When He reaches for me, I feel myself responding to His need. I know I want Him as much as He wants me.

When He kisses me, I feel myself melt. My passion rises. My want for Him increases. I feel myself grow increasingly moist.

When He undresses me, the anticipation rises. I want Him, I need Him and I can feel His need for me too.

When He explores my body with His fingers and lips, electricity flows through me. My passion ignites. A warm glow spreads through me.

When He licks me, my clit pulses. The walls of my cunt and my womb contract as the pleasure takes hold.

When He makes me cum, I long to feel Him inside me. I want to feel His lovely cock take me.

When He enters me, I surrender to Him. I savour the sensations as He fills me.

When He fucks me, I know that I am His. He claims my body with His cock, users me for His pleasure.

When He moans my name as He cums, I know He loves me. In that moment we are one.

When He slips out of me, I feel empty but satisfied. His cum trickles out of me, a reminder of our passion.

When He holds me in His arms, I feel safe and secure. He is my protector and provider as well as my lover.

When He is with me, He makes me complete. I am who I am because of Him.

Casual sex


I think it’s probably safe to say that Master C‘s and my sex-drives are pretty equally matched, so in terms of the question:

How do you cope when your level of sexual desire doesn’t match that of your partner?

I don’t think this has ever been an issue for us. I suspect the fact that we are quite openly poly would mean that we might not notice even if our sex-drives did get out of whack. And “whack” is almost certainly what I’d get if I did anything about it.

I’ve frequently admitted to the fact I’ve had my share of casual sex and, generally, I’ve enjoyed it. Let’s be honest, so long as I am willing to accept the consequences of my actions, it does have number of things going for it.

First there’s the excitement. There’s something exhilarating about that first, will we, won’t we, oh fuck it, just do me moment. Sexual excitement is a powerful and intoxicating thing. It’s an affirmation that we are sexual beings and that someone finds us attractive and wants us, physically. It’s primal, it’s the mating and breeding instinct (even though, in the main, the breeding part isn’t what we’re looking for). It’s the urge for the male to spread his seed far and wide; it’s the need for the woman to find the strongest, fittest potential mate. It’s possibly one of the most ancient urges in us all and that’s what makes it so exciting.

Then there’s the novelty. At its most basic, at the end of the day, sex is simply a means by which the male of the species impregnates the female. But, in reality, it is so much more than that. No two partners are ever the same. How they touch us, how they make us feel, how they bring us to orgasm (or not), their technique, and yes, sometimes their size all add to the experience. Some experiences are good, some not so, but everyone is different.

There are many interactions between men and women, but sex, when it is done right, is the most pleasurable. And as humans, we have an insatiable hunger for new experiences and, since there are so many variables in what makes sex pleasurable, taking our pleasure from multiple partners can seem a very attractive proposition.

As I said, I’ve had casual sex and I’ve enjoyed it too, but it also has it’s disadvantages.

First, while novelty and variety bring excitement, they also bring unfamiliarity. Unless you only ever had sex with someone once (and I’ll admit, I have done that), the first sex you have with someone, however novel, however exciting, is extremely unlikely to be the best sex you have with someone. There’s just no getting away from the fact that the first time you have sex with a new partner, you just don’t know your way around their body. The basics are always broadly similar but it’s the differences, little things that turn us on that are only discovered through familiarity that make the difference between good sex and great sex.

Also, for me anyway, I find the best sex of all comes from there being a deep (emotional as well as physical) connection with the person I’m having sex with. I’m not saying you can’t have a connection with a casual fuckbuddy, but I’ve never experienced one on the same level as the connection I experience with Master C.

The other drawback, again for me at least, is condoms. However, unless you want to play Russian-Roulette with sexually transmitted diseases, when indulging yourself with multiple random partners, they are a necessary evil. Granted, some people don’t use them, that’s up to them and I don’t judge them but, for me, they are an absolute necessity. I will happily dispense with them for the purposes of blow-jobs, but only Master C gets to fuck me without one.

Anyway, again, these are only my views, you are free to agree or disagree as you see fit. At the end of the day, sex is there to be enjoyed, and enjoy it I certainly do.  Casual sex allows me to (hopefully) enjoy the excitement and novelty that I described above, coupled with the fact I know that I will have to endure Master C‘s belt as punishment for my actions.

Having said that, no one knows my body, my tastes, my desires as well as Master C does. No one knows how to turn me on and turn me into an incoherent mess quite like Him. As much as I do enjoy casual sex, I enjoy what Master C gives me so much more. In fact, I’m now definitely looking forward to him getting home from work, so I can serve Him and enjoy His attentions..

Food For Thought Friday - #F4TFriday

For the love of cock


I love cock. Since my very first encounter with the male organ over 20 years ago, I have been endlessly fascinated by them. The come in all shapes and sizes and, big ones, smaller ones, thick ones, thin ones, I’ve pretty much had them all and loved every one of them.

There is something endlessly fascinating, almost hypnotic about watching those few inches of man unfurling themselves from a slightly comical, soft, wrinkled, flaccid state; transforming into a proud, hard, raging erection that will give me so much pleasure. A hard-on is, I believe, the most primal compliment a man can pay a woman, and the knowledge that you are responsible for this amazing metamorphosis is greatly flattering.

Of course, the cock isn’t everything. The man maketh the cock and, usually, it is the man I see first, not the cock. There is always a thrill of anticipation the first time you “unwrap” a new cock; that moment when the suggestion, the bulge in his jeans, becomes the reality of a living cock, released for you to enjoy, to explore with your fingers and lips, before it pushes inside you.

It’s fair to say, I’ve never encountered a disappointing cock, although I have been disappointed by the way a cock has been used. I won’t lie, I prefer my cocks to be on the bigger, by which I mean thicker rather than longer, side but I’ll take a smaller cock coupled with the ability to use it over a larger one attached to a guy who is an even bigger one. Ability, not size, is key. Size with ability is a very nice bonus.

The thing with cocks is the way they feel and make me feel. Much as I love the appearance of a lovely hard cock, it’s the way it feels when it is inside me that makes them so great. The way the head fills my mouth when I’m sucking it, the way the shaft fills and stretches my cunt or arse as it plunges deep inside me; these are the things that I love most about cocks.

And then there is the rich, thick eruption of his climax. I absolutely love watching a guy cum. The way the shaft stiffens and twitches, the way his balls contract, the way the head swells and turns a deep, angry purple, and then it erupts. That moment when he can take no more, at his most vulnerable and knowing that you are the cause of it is one of the most erotically satisfying experience.

I realise that this post has nothing at all to do with the prompt subject of “Chemistry”, but from start to finish, in everything they do, I love cock.

Desire


How do we demonstrate our desire for something or, indeed, something? We can drop subtle hints, we can drop not-so-subtle hints, sometimes we can blatantly demand what is required to satisfy our needs and wants.

The “I can’t wait to get you home” when having a meal in a restaurant, the whispered “I want you so badly” when you’re in public, or the barked command to “Bend over!” can all, depending on the circumstances, be equally indicative of desire.

When we write, we use words like hunger, longing, yearning, craving, to indicate that state that is more than just simply wanting. The words we use say a lot about how we express our desires.

When Master C orders me to bend over, I know exactly what He wants. He wants to hurt me, He wants to punish me, He wants to fuck me roughly, treating me as His own personal slut. How do I indicate my reciprocal desire to be treated in such a way? I comply with his demands; acknowledging his claim.

In a D/s relationship, it is easy for the submissive to acquiess to their Dominant’s desires. It is, after all, our duty to do so. But what of the submissive? How do they articulate their desires? How do they illicit the treatment from their Dominant that they hunger for?

That, I suspect, depends entirely on the dynamic of your relationship.

I tend to express my desires by asking if Master C would like me to do something, or if He would like to do something to me.

“Would Sir like to watch me cum for Him?” or ” Would Sir like me to suck His cock?” or “Would Sir care to taste my cunt?” are, for me at least, good ways of indicating what I really want. Of course, sometimes Sir does not care for such things, but that is His right.

Sometimes a more pleading, “Please may I suck Sir’s cock?” is appropriate, especially if I think I may be able to reverse an earlier rebuff.

Of course, because I’m a naughty, insatiable little slut, sometimes I take more direct action. When I really want to be spanked. I’m not averse to informing him that I’ve been a bad girl, baring my arse and bending myself over His knee.

Sometimes though, just sometimes, I pluck up the courage to actually make a demand; usually when His denials have pushed my frustration levels to breaking point. It’s a technique that I employ rarely, when I’m at the end of my tether, when “no” is simply not an option, no matter how disobedience it shows.

I know it’s part of His plan. I know Master C does it to provoke me. I know it shows me for the selfish, disobedient slut that I am, but those occasional, exasperated, “Look Mister, will you just get your arse over here and fuck my brains out with that lovely cock of yours?” are never ignored. Oh. I accept that I will get a thorough thrashing first for my impudence, but in the end, I get what I desire.