Freshly fucked


It’s a feeling I love. I’ve just been fucked, Master C has shot a lovely thick load of cum inside my cunt and then, after He has pulled out, it begins to trickle out of me.

I love the warm, sticky feeling as His cum begins to ooze; a lovely warm reminder of the fuck we’ve had.

It’s especially nice when Master C fucks me in the morning and then, afterwards, I sit at my desk at work, squirming slightly in my seat as His cum dribbles into my knickers, reminding me of the lovely start to my day.

What can I say? I’m a slut that loves cum. You knew that already though…

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Dark alleys


Sex in dark alleyways has always been a particular forte of mine. It began in my casual days and it’s something that I still do quite regularly, be that with Master C, or some random guy who has caught my eye on a night out.

I’m no stranger to outdoor sex, but outdoor sex of the back alley variety usually involves alcohol. Not that I’m particularly inhibited in my sexual wantoness by any means, but there’s nothing like a few drinks to make you feel a wee bit more daring. It also helps that the town I live in has lots of dark lanes, alleyways, closes, nooks and crannies that are just idea for a bit of late night, can’t wait to get home fuckery.

Why do I do it? Well, there’s the thrill factor; there is always a risk of being caught in the act. This has happened on occasion, and on at least two of those, it has been by other couples presumably looking for somewhere to do exactly the same thing. There’s also the thought that even if no one walks by, you could still be being watched. Often these dark closes are down behind tenement blocks and anyone could, potentially, look out their window and watch you giving a drunken blow-job or having an alcohol fuelled quickie.

Mostly though, it’s simply because, when I’m at a certain level of drunkenness, I get uncontrollably randy. I don’t want to wait until I get home to have sex, I want fucked and I want fucked pretty much there and then. Generally, I’ve found guys are quite willing to oblige, despite the obvious risks, and Master C is no exception. If you’ve read my cumslut post, then you will know that, not only does He enjoy it as much as me, but sometimes He likes to crank the stakes up to an entirely higher level.

Really, for me, it’s a combination of things: the excitement, the riskiness, the sop to my exhibitionist streak, the arousal, the need for urgent sexual fulfilment, and the enjoyment of a bloody good fuck. Mostly though, it’s because I’m a filthy little slut who is always ready for cock, especially if it’s Master C’s cock, wherever I am.

Kink of the Week

Sex toy?


I love my toys. I have quite a collection.

I have my Doxy massager for when I want to go from 0 – Screaming Orgasm in under 10 seconds. I have my wonderful ben-wa balls that give me such delicious sensations (particularly when I’m in the gym). I have my discreet little “lipstick” vibrator that goes with me wherever I go, just in case. Master C has all sorts of bindings and restraints that he uses on me, and all sorts of implements that can be used for my chastisement depending on the seriousness of any given transgression.

My absolute favourite, number one sex toy if you can call it that) is, however, Master C’s cock.

I absolutely love the things it does to me. I love the way it feels in my hand, mouth, arse or cunt. I love the sensations of being stretched and filled by it. I love how it throbs and pulses and jerks when I touch it. Most of all, I love it because it’s attached to a big, strong, hairy man who knows exactly which buttons to push to give me (and in some cases, deny me) the most thunderous, toe-curling orgasms imaginable. I also have a very big thing for the lovely, hot, sticky substance it produces.

Now, please don’t think I am knocking sex toys. Dear only knows how many I’ve owned since I bought my first vibrator, twenty odd years ago. I have spent many, many pleasurable hours in the company of my toys and they have given me many, many wonderful orgasms. If I’m being honest, my toys have accounted for more orgasms than my human lovers. Nothing, however beats the attentions of a partner who is so fully attuned to your body, its desires and needs.

My Doxy may be able to turn me into a screaming, shuddering mess in less time than it has taken me to write this post, but it won’t cuddle me and hold me close after it has made me cum. Nor will it bring me a cup of coffee afterwards.

So toys, yeah, I love them, they bring me unmentionable amounts of pleasure; but for the full, all senses engaged, every nerve ending tingling experience, it has to be Master C and his wonderful cock.

#MasturbationMonday

Out and about


I am a lover of the outdoors. I love being naked outdoors. There is something inherently natural about it. I love the feeling of the sun on my naked skin. I love feeling those gentle breezes that make the fine hairs stand on end and add to the sensitivity.

Whether it be soaking up the sun on a Greek beach, finding a remote country spot, or just simply lying out in the garden, the feel of the sun’s warmth  and/or gentle breezes all over my skin, there is a glorious natural feeling that simply can’t be replicated.

Sadly, living in a part of the world where the climate doesn’t often lend itself to outdoor nudity, and on those occasions that it does, the chances of them coinciding with me being free are so few and far between, they almost have to be grabbed and exploited.

Of course, if there’s one thing better than outdoor nudity, it’s outside sex. There are any number of places near to where Master C and I live that lend themselves to alfresco loving; whether it’s in the countryside, or various places along the shore, or, should inspiration fail us, our own garden. Of course there are also numerous back alleys and dark closes that lend themselves to drunken, late night quickies, but those are the subject of another post.

The thrill of outdoor sex comes from the risk of discovery; it adds a degree of excitement that makes the experience more intense. For me, the greater the chance of being caught, the sexier the experience is. The only drawback, if you can call it that, is that the riskier the location, the less clothing is likely to be removed. Sometimes the biggest thrill from outdoor sex is doing it in such a way that any people around are unaware that you are doing it.

One of the sexiest experiences I ever had was having sex in the middle of a park in Dublin, the guy I was with sat with his back against a tree, me sat astride him, my knickers pushed aside and me rocking gently as people passed by all around us, unaware (or at least, so I thought) of what was going on almost right under their noses.

Of course, if you can find a remote enough spot, a more leisurely approach can be taken. If it’s warm enough, you can take the risk of stripping off, letting the heat of the sun add to the heat of the situation.

Of course, seclusion is no guarantee of absolute privacy. Ramblers, dog walkers, horse riders and even mountain bikers can, and do, sometimes, appear seemingly out of nowhere. On those rare occasions where an outdoor shag has been interrupted in circumstances such as those just described, the general response has more often than not been embarrassment rather than outrage. On one particular occasion, one couple did stop briefly to enquire if we’d noticed any other likely spots nearby.

I am a big fan of of alfresco nudity, and sex; it’s just a shame that our weather gives us so few opportunities to indulge in such activities. So, when the circumstances and the weather combine to allow me to be naked outdoors, you can be certain that I will take advantage of it.

#MasturbationMonday

Punishment fucks


One of the reasons I enjoy being such a bad girl is that I love being punished. There’s something about the prospect of getting my arse well and truly paddled until the tears flow from my eyes, followed by a brutal, merciless fuck.

Fortunately for me, Master C is always ready to chastise me for my misdeeds. If I’m being brutally honest, I regularly give Him reasons for disciplining me.

Of course, the most severe, and of course deserving, punishment comes from those times that I am “unfaithful” to Him with “The Girl ” or one of my other girlfriends.

Being unable to lie to Master C, I automatically have to admit to these indiscretions, knowing full well that I will be deservedly punished for them.

Usually, I am ordered to strip, to stand there naked and vulnerable as Master C interrogates me thoroughly; gleaning ever last sordid detail of my illicit encounter. As I recount my guilt, He gives no indication of what my punishment will be. Will He let me off with nothing more than sound spanking? Will He use the the paddle with its grooves that bite into my flesh? Or will He decide that my guilt deserves nothing less than the biting kiss of His belt? There is no way of knowing until I have fully admitted my guilt. Because I’m such a depraved little slut, the very uncertainty around my punishment makes my cunt tingle.

When I have fully unburdoned, I take my position, bent over the arm of the sofa and I bite my trembling lower lip in anticipation of what is to come next.

A spanking, a paddling or a thrashing, it ultimately makes no difference. Sometimes Master C will make me count out the strokes as my arse cheeks redden and sting and tears begin to well in my eyes.

Each slap, each stroke hurts more than the last, my sobs become increasingly pain filled, my cunt grows increasingly wet.

Eventually He stops, but the punishment has not finished. Master C begins to fuck me. There is no foreplay. There is no need, my cunt is already soaked. The is no tenderness; Master C simply grabs my hips and fucks me at full force.

As He fucks me, rough and hard, Master C pulls my hair and reminds me that “The Girl” couldn’t give me what He’s giving me now; how she can’t give me a cock, she can’t fuck me, she can’t abuse my cunt or arse the way He is doing.

Of course, Master C is right; my girlfriends can’t fuck me the way He does, they can’t use my body like He does, they have no cock to fill me, stretch me, abuse me with. And, as Master C punishes me, I become grateful for His reminders, I am grateful for His cock, I am grateful that His punishment has made me realise I need a man, I need Him, to fuck me.

Suddenly His cock is withdrawn. Feeling painfully abused and empty, I kneel on the floor before him to await my final humiliation.

“Have you learned your lesson, slut?” Master C demands, slapping my face firmly, yet tenderly with His hand.

“Yes,” I sob, my eyes filled with tears once more.

Master C doesn’t ask me if this is the last time I will stray with a woman, we both know I will; to suggest otherwise would be a lie and we both know it. Instead He strokes His cock, His breathing becomes laboured until finally He erupts, covering my face in a thick load of cum.

Sitting down, Master C watches me as I gather as much of His cum as I can with my fingers before licking them clean.

As I kneel there before Him, punished, abused and humiliated, Master C smiles and gently pats the cushion beside Him, inviting me next to Him.

As I snuggle, still naked, against Him, Master C puts His arm around me and holds me tight and I know I am forgiven, until the next time.

All relationships have their “traditions”; the unburdening of my various transgressions and accepting the appropriate punishment for them is very much one of the central traditions of ours.

#WickedWednesday

A little bit of “me” time


So, having got home from work and having had a shower, I step out of the bathroom, my skin tingling, my body pink and glowing. From there, I walk the few steps to my bedroom. I drop the large, fluffy towel and, for a moment, I stand there, naked, surveying myself in the full length mirror on the wall. From there, I sit on the edge of the bed and reach for the jar of skin crème. Applying a generous amount to my hands I start to rub it in.

I start with my arms. My hands glide over the soft skin. An occasional fleeting contact with my naked boobs sends tiny electric shocks through me.

Next my legs. My hands slide easily up my slender calves and over my rounded and shapely thighs. From there, they travel up to my midsection. A warm glow begins to spread through me as my hands absently trace their way under the curves of my boobs.

Should I stop or should I continue? I hesitate only a moment before applying more crème to my hands. Let’s be honest, this would have been a very short entry if I’d stopped there, wouldn’t it?

I moan softly as I cup my boobs in my hands and begin to caress them, rubbing the crème into those soft mounds of flesh that attract so much attention. My nipples stiffen as my hands slide over them.

Lying back on the bed, I close my eyes. I murmur my contentment as my hands squeeze and massage my boobs. I gently pinch my nipples and then my hands glide over the soft skin again.

My cunt responds in kind. I can feel it begin to pulse. I’m already turned on and getting more so with every moment that passes, every touch of my fingers. My boobs, firm and yet so soft, feel so good under my hands as I press them together, savouring the sensations arising from my attentions.

Tentatively, I let one hand brush lower. I open my legs. A finger slides between my lips, tracing the warm, wet folds of my cunt, coating it with my juices which are already flowing copiously.

I lift my fingers to my mouth, tasting the juices that are flowing freely from my cunt. The flavour intoxicates me.

I return my fingers to my cunt, sliding between the moist lips. I begin teasing my clit, it feels so good, my pleasure intensifies.

Slowly I slide one, then two fingers into me. I thrust them in and out, gently twisting them inside me. Waves of pleasure spread out from my cunt to consume me as I slowly finger-fuck myself.

Before things go too far, I reluctantly slip them out and lightly stroke my clit. In my mind’s eye it’s no longer my finger but a warm, wet tongue that is pleasuring me. Not my Master C’s tongue, not even “The Other Guy’s” tongue but a woman’s; “The Girl’s” tongue to be precise. The excitement inside me builds as I imagine Master C catching me there, catching me with “The Girl” between my legs, watching as her soft tongue gently laps the juices from my cunt.

The excitement mounts, my cunt contracts. It’s too soon, I don’t want to cum just yet, I need to slow down, to make it last, to savour every moment.

Almost reluctantly, I remove my hand from my clit. I lift my fingers to my mouth and lick them clean. As I savour the taste, in my imagination I’m licking my juices from Master C’s cock. In my fantasy He has joined us and has fucked me to the brink of orgasm as the “The Girl” feasted on my clit.

The sexual tension is still building, I have to force myself to slow down. I will my overactive imagination into neutral.

My hands return to my boobs. I shiver with delight as I squeeze and caress them. Pushing them together I pinch my nipples. I cry out with the subtle mixture of pain and pleasure. I rub in a little more crème, imagining that it’s hubby’s cum and I spend what seems like an age caressing each one in turn.

Fire burns in my cunt. My body is alive with expectation of release as I caress myself all over. Like iron to a magnet my fingers are unconsciously drawn towards my cunt once again. I have to use every ounce of will power I possess to prevent them from finding their goal. I run my fingers up and down my inner thighs, teasing myself until the tension and anticipation become too much to bear.

One hand returns to my boobs, the fingers of the other lightly brush over the lips of my cunt. I slowly slide a finger between the lips, spreading them wide. My finger dips into my cunt. Once again I take my finger to my mouth and lick the warm dew from its length. I savour the taste as, fully aroused, my other hand glides over my stomach to take its place.

This time I thrust two fingers into my cunt. I slide them in and out increasing the force with each movement. My thumb rests on my swollen clit and I moan softly as the sensations take over. My passion now owns me; my body, of its own volition, moves steadily towards the impending climax.

I thrust my fingers deep inside me, twisting them round and round inside my cunt. My thumb exerts a steady pressure on my clit. My free hand strokes and squeezes my boobs.

I can feel it approaching. The fire in my cunt builds to an inferno as my thumb and fingers do their work. My breathing quickens. My womb begins to contract. My body begins to shake.

My fantasy lovers return. “The Girl” is frantically licking my clit as, in my imagination, Master C works His cock in and out of my cunt.

The dam suddenly bursts. I cry out as wave after wave of orgasmic pleasure wash over me. My body shudders as I slip the fingers from my cunt and slide them back and forth over my throbbing clit, keeping the intensity of my climax at full strength.

My other hand pinches each nipple in turn as I gently rub my clit with a circular motion. Lightning bolts shoot through me as my climax climbs to a higher level. The contractions in my cunt and womb spread out to engulf me until I can take no more. With tears of joy in my eyes I allow myself to let go, hugging myself tight as I let the orgasmic energy dissipate.

After that, I lie on my bed motionless. I lie there, unaware of time passing, unaware of the room around me, unaware of everything except the beating of my heart. A warm glow of satisfaction spreads over me as my breathing returns to normal and my body relaxes.

Hope you enjoyed me telling you about it as much as I did actually doing it (and re-living it)

#MasturbationMonday

Getting the bum(ps)


Today is my birthday. Although it’s rude to ask a lady her age, since I am quite clearly not a lady, I turned 38, in case you were wondering.

When I was at school, there was a tradition of giving someone who was celebrating their birthday “the bumps”. For those not familiar with the term, it generally involved the person whose birthday it was having their friends “bump” them, generally by kneeling them in the rear end a certain number of times, that number being the same as the age attained.

That was the childhood version, of course; now that I am supposedly an adult, Master C has come up with a more “grown up” variation.

This x-rated version of the bumps involves two phases, and as you would probably expect,it also involves me, bare arsed, bent over and bracing myself for support.

So, phase one:

Taking the grooved paddle that I referred to in Punishment fucks, Master C proceeds to give my poor little backside a thorough tanning. Thirty Eight strokes of the paddle, in groups of nine to each cheek, alternating left and right, before a final slap on each cheek rounds off the total. As I count out each thwack of the paddle, I can feel my face turn as red as my arse, I can feel eyes brim with tears, and I can feel my cunt grow uncomfortably wet.

Each stinging slap hurts that little bit more than the last one, each slap makes me cry out a little louder, each slap makes my juices flow that bit more.

“36…”, SLAP!

“37…”, SLAP!

“38…”, SLAP!

With tears streaming down my cheeks, which are as hot and flushed as my buttocks, I allow myself an inward smile; I have endured and I know what is about to come…

And then, phase two:

Master C grips my hips, his cock slides into me with one powerful thrust. The cheeks of my arse throb as He digs His fingers into the tender flesh. A moment’s pause, and then the “bumps” begin.

Master C thrusts into me, hard and deep, pulling me back on to Him. His body slams against mine with every deliciously powerful stroke of His cock. The only sounds to be heard are the slapping of skin on skin as His body repeatedly and forcefully collides with mine, and my moans; a mixture of pain and pleasure as Master C pounds my cunt.

This time I’m not counting the strokes, I couldn’t even if I wanted to. Not that there’s any need, Master C won’t stop “bumping” until he’s done.

“Hap… py… birth… day…” He groans, each syllable punctuated with another surging thrust of His wonderful cock deep into my aching cunt.

Suddenly He’s gone. Distantly I hear Him moan. His warm, thick load splatters off my arse cheeks.

As Master C rubs his cum into still tender skin, applying it as if it were a balm to ease the stinging hurt, He kisses me on the small of my back in a way that makes my knees week and my cunt contract, and whispers, “Happy birthday, little one.”

Let’s be upstanding


I absolutely fucking love cock. There, I’ve said it, “I love cock”. It’s probably fair to say that I love all cocks but, in particular, I love Master C’s cock.

I find penises endlessly fascinating. I love the way they change from their wrinkly flaccid state into an angry and swollen full-scale hard-on. I love watching this transformation in Master C’s cock as I slowly play with it, teasing it, turning Him on, arousing Him until he is fully erect and ready to pound my cunt with its lovely thick hardness. I also find those little involuntary twitches it makes in response to my touches amusingly endearing.

When it slips into cunt, I love the way it stretches me, and the pressure as it slides into me, inch by delicious inch, filling me. As I clench myself around it, I can feel those twitches inside me as it slides in and out.

As Master C fucks me, I imagine I can feel the head swell inside me as His orgasm approaches. When He cums, I feel His cock pulse, feel the eruption as His load is unleashed deep inside me.

Afterwards, the combined tastes of our juices is intoxicating as I take His cock into my mouth to clean Him. Then, as we lie together, His cock slowly shrinks back to its pre-aroused size and shape and I’m already looking forward to the next time I can make it hard and feel it inside me again.

Penises are very simple creatures that act as a barometer of their owner’s arousal. A hard-on can’t really be faked and are a very obvious mark of sexual approval. If you’ve given a guy a hard-on, he’s probably going to want to fuck you with it; and in Master C’s case, as He has such a fine specimen, it would be churlish of me not to let Him put it to good use.

#MasturbationMonday

Inappropriate sex


When you’re an insatiable little slut like me, sometimes you get craving for cock in the most inappropriate situations. For example, when you’re surrounded by family and friends, at your parent’s place, celebrating their wedding anniversary.

In my defence, I’d had a few drinks and Master C was, well He was as deliciously fuckable as Master C always is. It was the combination of the drink and the utter inappropriate circumstances that made it so exciting.

It had started off with me being the dutiful Auntie Morag, going upstairs to read my nephews and niece a bedtime story.

Having done my duty, I stopped in in my old room. I felt a wave of nostalgia for all the times I and whatever partner I had been with at the time had fooled around in that very room before I’d moved out and got my own flat.

I sent Master C a text: “My old room. I need fucked.”

Under the pretext that His services were also required, Master C quickly joined me. I kissed Him hard, urgently. I led Him over to my old bed, bent over, hitched up my skirt and braced myself. “Fuck me!” I demanded in an urgent whisper.

Seconds later, Master C was inside me, gripping my hips as He fucked me, hard, rough and fast.

It felt so good, so naughty; having Him fucking me while downstairs my parents and siblings, other members my family and their friends were drinking and chatting and generally being totally unaware of what was happening just a few feet above them.

It didn’t last long, in truth I didn’t need it to; just having Master C‘s wonderful thick cock inside me, fucking me, filling me, pounding me hard, was all I needed. It felt good. It felt deliciously wrong. I came hard with His cock deep inside me.

I dropped to my knees, turned around and took His cock in my mouth. A few seconds of sucking as my fingers stroked His cock and it was all over. Master C shot His load into my mouth and gulped it down hungrily.

The whole episode couldn’t have lasted more than 10 minutes but it was deeply satisfying. Master C went downstairs and re-joined the others while I made a sidetrip to the bathroom to make sure there was no obvious evidence of what I’d just been up to.

My cheeks were a little flushed as I rejoined the festivities but only Master C and I knew it wasn’t just because of the wine.

Food For Thought Friday - #F4TFriday

I flirt, therefore I am…


I am a flirt, I make no apologies for it; I always have been and (hopefully) I always will be. One of the reasons I have this blog is to allow my flirtiness free reign.

I do occasionally get asked why, if I’m so ridiculously in love with Master C, do I feel the need to behave in such a brazen fashion and how does He feel about it? The truth is, I just just enjoy the (usually) harmless attention that it gets me. Yes, I’m totally and hopelessly devoted to my wonderful Master, but I get a buzz from the fact that, despite being well and truly taken, men (and women) find me attractive in a sexual way. As for Master C, not only does He not mind, He openly encourages me. For Him, it’s almost an ego thing; others may fancy me, but He is the one that has me. It also means that on those occasions where I succumb to another man’s flirtation, I will pay the consequences of my actions and feel the kiss of Master C‘s belt.

I know not everyone will agree with me, and some people will probably see some dark secret desires or denied relationship dissatisfaction in my actions, but nothing could be further from the truth. It’s part of our bond, it all comes down to mutual respect and trust; we are together but neither of us dictates what the other can and can’t do. I am free to do what I please and with whomever I please so long as I am willing to take responsibility for and bear the consequences for my actions.

I get a buzz out of it. What woman (or man) doesn’t want to feel desired and wanted? I enjoy the attention, and I enjoy it for the harmless fun that it is. I enjoy the thrill of being “seduced” by someone who takes my fancy and letting the attraction run its natural course. It’s a part of who I am, a part of the person that Master C nurtures, cherishes and loves, and I’m not going to change; if I did, I wouldn’t be the same person any more.

Judge me if you will, agree or disagree as you see fit, play along or walk on past. What matters is that I am Master C‘s slut and He loves and respects me for who I am, and the same is true in reverse.

Food For Thought Friday - #F4TFriday