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
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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

Hooked up


So, this week the questions related to “hook-ups” and I suspect that it will  come as no surprise to you that this is a subject that I have a certain amount of familiarity with. Actually, it would be more accurate to say it’s a subject I have had experience with, as it tends not to be something I actually do any more.

It’s not that I’ve given up on casual sex. If you’ve read any of this blog you will know that I am very much a cock-hungry slut and I still enjoy random casual encounters. By and large though, these encounters are not planned; they are, as I said, random. And by random I mean that I haven’t previously arranged to meet up and fuck them, they are simply someone who has caught my eye and I’ve decided I want to have some fun with them.  Probably the only things that come close to being “hook-ups” for me nowadays are when I make plans to get together with either “The Girl” or “The Other Guy”. Given that these are “established relationships” that I have, I suspect they aren’t really “hook-ups” in the sense meant by the question, but that doesn’t make them any less enjoyable when they happen, or in any way dampen the anticipation I feel when waiting for one that has been arranged to happen.

For me, “hook-ups” in the “traditional” sense happened in the period between breaking up with my ex and meeting Master C.

Almost invariably,  they were arranged via sites like Plenty Of FishAdult Friendfinder or Fabswingers (don’t bother looking for me on any of those, my profiles are long gone). Contact was made, messages were exchanged and, if all went well, plans to meet were agreed. The “usual” protocol was that first meeting would be “social” to see if we clicked. Generally though, if we did “click” we’d be out the back of the venue for a blow-job/quickie and before heading back to whichever of our respective places was nearer for one or more encores.

Not only did I meet guys locally, I also used to meet them when I was away for work in places like London, Bristol, Birmingham, Cardiff, Belfast or Newcastle. After all, if you’re going to spend a night or two in a hotel, you might as well have some fun while you’re at it.

The sex, as sex does, varied in quality from pretty rubbish to pretty damned amazing. On the whole, I never had what you might call a bad experience (I was always quite lucky that way), although I did have more than a few that, in sex terms, might be described as disappointing.

For me, it was a convenient way for a cock-hungry slut to get herself fucked on a (fairly) regular basis. Today, of course, I have Master C, “The Girl” and “The Other Guy” to attend to most of my needs and, so long as I am prepared to face the consequences of my actions, as much random casual sex as I can find for those times when I fancy something a little bit off menu. I can, it seems, have my cake and eat it (as well as being frequently and expertly eaten) and, on the whole, I for one am not complaining.

Food For Thought Friday - #F4TFriday

Learning about self-pleasure


The early ’90s were a crap time to be a teenager, and in particular a teenage girl, and especially a permanently randy, sexually frustrated teenage girl like me.

Teenagers today have access to the internet. Back when I was a teenager, the internet, such as it was, may as well, have not existed. It certainly wasn’t available to a certain permanently randy, sexually frustrated teenage girl growing up in the back of beyond in a remote part of Scotland, and even if it been, my family didn’t even own a computer until about a year after I moved out to go to University. We didn’t even have the option of the Ladybird Book of Masturbation for Girls; and even if we had, getting hold of a copy wouldn’t exactly have been easy, not in a community where everyone knows everyone else, assuming they aren’t also related to them too.

Guys, I think, have it so much easier. They have a very obvious protuberance that fits quite nicely in the hand. They rub it, it feels good, they keep rubbing it, they cum. Now, I know the same thing, more or less, happens when we girls rub our clits, but I’m pretty sure my 13/14 year old self didn’t even know that the clitoris actually existed, nor what it was for.

I knew rubbing my boobs felt nice, but that didn’t really help. In fact, it actually made things worse as it just got me worked up and I didn’t know what to do to finish myself off.

My brother’s well thumbed porno mags didn’t help either. They showed pictures of girls sucking guys off, which I was already familiar with and had a certain proficiency. They showed couples fucking, which I was familiar with the theoretical mechanics of even though I wouldn’t do the ‘practical exam’ until I was  almost 16. They showed pictures of guys cumming over girls’ boobs and faces, which I didn’t really understand at the time, even if it was something I would soon become addicted to, even before I lost my virginity. But nowhere could I really get any information on how I could bring myself off. I could have asked my girlfriends, I guess, but eugh, embarrassing…

Ultimately, of course, it was “The Girl” who was to impart the wisdom of her (slightly greater) experience upon me, describing in lurid detail her newfound hobby and the effect it produced.

That night, I took my newfound knowledge and attempted to replicate what “The Girl” had told me with my fingers. It felt good. It felt very good. I couldn’t believe that it was really that simple. I came and I came hard.  Once I’d got myself back under control, I gave myself another very thorough fingering until I came again, even harder. From that moment on I was hooked and when, after leaving home to go to University, I discovered the joys that toys could bring, my status as a first class wanker was confirmed.

And so I remain. A self-confessed, and thoroughly addicted wanker. I do it on my own, I do it with Master C watching, I do it when I want. While I may have had my share of crap shags, I think it’s fair to say, I’ve never had a bad wank.

So, if time travel were possible, I’d find away to give my teenage self some much needed instruction and save her from so much frustration.

Same-sex sex


I have never made any secret of the fact that I am attracted to members of both sexes.  Having gone to an all girls private school, it was inevitable, I suppose that I would experience female nudity before experiencing the male equivalent and, it is fair to say, that I found the naked forms of some of my classmates to be very attractive indeed. Of course, being at an all girl school, I had to keep this fact pretty much to myself; if there is one thing “worse” than being branded a slut in such an environment, teenage girls being what they are, it was being branded a lesbian.  That, however, didn’t stop me being curious.

It was probably inevitable then, that the first time I ever came at (quite literally) the hands of another person, those hands would belong to another girl; “The Girl” to be precise.

“The Girl” and I have “known” each other pretty much all our lives. We went to the same nursery, primary school, secondary school and, although we did different courses at different universities, for a lot of our time as students shared a flat too. From the very first, we were pretty much inseparable; “The Girl” was, however, the dominant personality in our friendship, always the leader, and I was the faithful sidekick.

I can’t actually remember how we ended up coming to have sex that first time.  We were 13 and both still virgins and when it came to boys I, at least, hadn’t progressed much further than kissing and letting them occasionally put a hand up my top and squeeze my boobs through my bra; as for “The Girl”, she’d gleefully confided in me recently before this, that she’s given a guy in third year a hand-job. We had both, very definitely discovered wanking and orgasms though.

The fact that we were in bed together wasn’t unusual.  We’d been having sleepovers since we were about 4 or 5 and had often cuddled up under the duvet together; it’s just what we did. I remember that we had been talking about boys, and wanking, and orgasms, and how good they felt.  I also remember that they more we discussed such things, the more urgent the need to have a bloody good wank became. We were turning ourselves and each other on with our talk and, at some point we stopped talking and started kissing.  At some point slightly further in the proceedings, our nightshirts came off and I felt her soft, naked body against mine.  The kisses slowly moved down from our lips to our boobs and I remember cumming hard as I furiously rubbed my clit while “The Girl” sucked on my nipples.  Once I’d recovered, I reciprocated until “The Girl”came too.  Then things got even more interesting…

As we were lying there, still extremely turned on, “The Girl” tentatively reached over to stroke my cunt.  The effect was immediate.  This was the first time anybody other than me had touched my cunt.  As I came again, I put my hand between her thighs and mirrored what she was doing to me on her. I can’t remember how many times we both came during that first orgy of finger-fucking but I do remember being relieved that it was a Friday night and we didn’t have to go to school the next day, as neither of us got a lot of sleep.

You will notice that all we did was kiss and finger-fuck each other.  Neither of us went down on the other.  It would be almost a year before we did that and only after we’d experienced having guys go down on us.  The truth is, it never even occurred to us.

That was the first of the countless times “The Girl” and I have fucked each other over the last 25 years.  Most often it was one-on-one, but sometimes we’d be the FF of an FFM threesome, and, on a few occasions, we were the girls at the centre of a group fucking.

She was my first girl, and since that night, there have been quite a few others.  Nowadays I generally fuck women on a one-on-one basis, or as part of an FFM threesome with Master C, but back in my adult contact site days, I did sometimes respond to ads from couples looking for a bi girl to join them and, as I’ve mentioned before, I’ve also had some all female threesomes.

Of course, it goes without saying that Master C knows all about this side of my sexuality and He allows me to explore it with His blessing.  There is, however, one condition to this freedom, and it’s one that I happily accept: namely that I have to tell Master C everything about these encounters, not leaving out a single detail.  This of course, almost always results in me receiving a thorough spanking for my misdeed, followed by a very rough, very hard punishment fuck; the purpose of which is to show me exactly what us carpetmunchers were missing. It’s fair to say, Master C does make an excellent point on these occasions, but for some reason, I never can quite learn my lesson…

Three isn’t always a crowd


I’m not a mathematician, which is probably why I’ve never understood the concept that two into one doesn’t go.  In my experience, two go into one very nicely indeed, especially when the one in question is me.

Yes, I am, of course, talking about threesomes.

I had my first threesome when I was 18. Some time during the long summer break between leaving school and starting university. It involved “The Girl”, which, given all the things we got up to together in those days, and still do to this day, was almost inevitable, I guess.

The guy that she was “seeing” at the time had (apparently half-jokingly) suggested that he would be up for a threesome with her and her “hot ginger pal”.

Rather than being offended, “The Girl” had let it be known that the idea definitely appealed to her.

Knowing her as well as I did, I wasn’t shocked when she suggested it and, I’ll admit, I was more than a little curious. Later, as I had my head between her thighs and was feasting eagerly on her cunt, she clinched it for me by saying, “Just imagine what it would feel like to have a nice, big cock in you right now…”

And I did just that, imagine, albeit with my fingers pumping my cunt as I ate her out, and I came hard, trying to imagine my fingers being replaced by a nice, thick, juicy cock.

When the time finally came, I was nervous but as excited as hell.  After all, I reasoned to myself, I knew what a  cock feels like and I knew what “The Girl’s” cunt tastes like and I was simply going to be enjoying the best of both.

It’s fair to say I wasn’t disappointed (the fact that the guy in question, whom I shall call Gary, was generally proportioned was simply an added bonus).

Being fucked hard from behind by Gary, the force of his thrusts forcing my mouth against “The Girl’s” cunt was a huge turn on.  Having her beneath me, tonguing my clit as he fucked my cunt and arse was simply the most wonderful feeling I’d ever experienced. Licking “The Girl’s” clit and tasting her juices on his cock as Gary pounded her added a whole new level of sensation to something I’d done may times before.

All in all, it was the most intense and enjoyable sexual experience of my life up to that point and remains one of my most pleasant memories for when I’m indulging in a little me time.

The evening was a blur of three naked bodies, licking, sucking, fucking and coming together in all the ways three people can.  Gary fucked “The Girl” and me over and over.  We sucked his cock, rode his face and, in between loads, entertained him with our own special girl-on-girl shows while we waited for him to get hard again.  It was an experience “The Girl” and I were to enjoy a number of times over that summer, both with Gary and with a few other guys.

Of course, being a cock-hungry little slut like me, and having enjoyed the attention of a man and another woman, it was only ever going to be a matter of time before I experienced the sensation of being fucked by two cocks at the same time.

It was during Fresher’s Week. I’d had a few drinks and I was flirting outrageously with two guys. They were both pretty hot, a lot of fun and, more importantly, both seemed to be into me.  It sounds big-headed, but I knew I could have left with either one of them that night. The problem was, that in my less than sober, and extremely randy state, I really couldn’t choose between them. Ultimately, as it turned out, I ended up leaving with both of them and, funnily enough, neither of them seemed particularly put out that they weren’t getting me to themselves.

On the short walk back to their flat (it turned out they shared), I was, again, as nervous as hell but turned-on way above simply being aroused. I was in a state of wet-knickered anticipation and I just couldn’t wait for the two guys to give me a proper seeing-to..

When we got to their flat, I accepted some wine and proceeded to slowly strip for them.  I started things off by taking it in turns to suck their cocks. Before long, one of them was behind me, eating my cunt as I sucked on his friend’s cock.

I came, hard, very quickly, and one of the guys took this as his cue to up the ante and, before I could catch my breath or bring myself back under any sort of control, I found myself being spit-roasted; one cock in my cunt, another in my mouth and I was loving every second of it.

They took it in turns, fucking my cunt and fucking my mouth.  I fingered my clit furiously as they abused me. It was the dirtiest thing I’d ever done (for now, dirtier was to come later that evening) and I brought myself off several times as they attended to me.

Of course, my cunt wasn’t the only hole that saw attention from them, my arse took its fair share of poundings from both cocks.  Actually, I probably enjoyed that even more. Having my arse fucked as I sucked on a big fat cock really made me feel like a dirty slut and I loved every second of it.

It goes without saying that I insisted on condoms being worn whenever they were fucking my cunt and arse.  As a result, I ended up with quite a few loads of cum down my throat and sprayed over my boobs and face.  For me this just heightened the experience. Even at that tender (and by that stage of the proceedings I was decidedly tender) age , I’d discovered the joys of having cum dumped over me and the two cocks that were servicing me certainly produced enough to keep me more than happy.

With both of my holes stretched and tender, and with their cocks almost exhausted from the fucking and sucking the guys decided it was time for my grand finalé.  One of them  lay on his back, and I quickly straddled him, taking his cock in my cunt. A few seconds later, the other took position behind me and worked his cock into my arse.  It was sore, my arse was tender, my cunt was raw, but I loved every second of it.  I think the only thing that could possibly have made it even better would have been if I’d had a third cock to suck on (I told you I was a greedy slut) as they pounded my holes mercilessly.

It was fabulously filthy, deliciously dirty, supremely slutty.  I was being fucked like a filthy, cock hungry slut, a cock pounding at both holes.  I had never experienced anything like it before.  I knew what it felt like to have a cock in my cunt, I knew what it felt like to have a cock in my arse, from that, I’d tried to imagine what it would be like to have both at the same time, but my imagination had failed totally to come up with anything like the reality.

Of course, my ‘essay’ into the joys of three in a bed sex wouldn’t be complete without the possibility of some three girl action, and I suspect, for some readers, this is what they’ve actually been waiting for (go on, admit it…).

There’s something particularly nice about feasting on another girl’s cunt as you are having yours eaten out.  OK, so a 69 fits this bill, but bringing in an extra friend adds a little spice to things. Having separate mouths sucking simultaneously on your boobs while questing fingers bury themselves between your moist lower lips is, in my opinion, an experience to be savoured.  Having two tongues working their way up the insides of my thighs, slowly getting closer to my waiting cunt is a huge turn on.  Having a girl lower her cunt on to your face as another licks and fingers you is, well, mind blowing.

Toys can be employed to heighten the sensations; and then of course, there’s all those boobs… Let’s be honest, what’s not to enjoy?

Just because there are no men involved, doesn’t mean that it’s all girly girly and soft and slushy.  It can be like that, and it’s nice when it is, but it can be just as rough and as vigorous and satisfying, albeit in completely different ways, as it is when there are men around.

So which did I prefer? That’s a hard one.

Well, it probably come as no surprise to anyone that reads this blog that I probably enjoy them about equally, albeit for different reasons.

I’ll be honest, though, of the three scenarios above, the “least” enjoyable for me was the FFF. Much as I do enjoy fucking other woman, a FFF Threesome has one very important ingredient, i.e. cock. Yes, yous can be used, but nothing really comes close to  having a living, pulsing, throbbing cock, being wielded by a man in full-on rut inside you.

MFF allows me to have my cake and eat it, as it were. It indulges both sides of my sexuality at the same time. There is something wonderful about being fucked hard from behind while feasting on another woman’s cunt. The force of his strokes as he fucks me, driving my mouth against her. Or there’s the wonders of being in a 69 with her as his cock ploughs into her cunt, just above my nose, where I can just reach his cock with the tip of my tongue and taste her on his shaft. Then there’s the sharing of his cock with her; taking it in turns to suck him, kissing each other around the tip. The voyeur in me loves to watch the expressions on her face as she rides his cock or sits on his face while his tongue laps at her. And then, well there’s boobs too. Sucking on hers as he fuck or eats her, her sucking on mine as he fucks or eats me. It’s the heavenly combination of her softness and his firmness that really does it for me.

MMF allows me to be the greedy, cock hungry slut that I am. There is simply nothing quite like the experience of being bent over, having my lips wrapped around one deliciously thick cock while another pounds me in the cunt or arse. There’s the wonderful filthy, slutty feeling of having two cocks in me at the same time; filling me, fucking both my arse and cunt in tandem (I admit, this is a relatively new experience for me). And then there’s having two cocks to lick and stroke and suck; two loads of cum to swallow or take over my face, or boobs, or back. Nothing leaves me feeling more thoroughly fucked than having been taken by two men, being a slave to their desires, a selection of holes for them to use and abuse, an affirmation of my status as a filthy little slut.

Of course, the one thing that they all have in common is that unless Master C is one of the participants, they absolutely guarantee me some attention from his belt for being such a naughty little slut. I guess I win either way.

So, as the title says, I discovered that even if three can be a crowd, sometimes it’s a very pleasant crowd to be a part of.

A question of sexuality


Here is how the ever helpful Urban Dictionary defines bisexual:

bisexual /bʌɪˈsɛksjʊəl,-ʃʊəl/

A person capable of having physical, romantic, and sexual attraction attractions towards both sexes.

So, since I admit to the fact that I am not only attracted to both men and women, but that I have also had sex with both men and women then I am, quite clearly, bisexual; right?

Well, yes and no…

What?

Well, OK, fair enough, in a strict dictionary sense of the word, I am a bisexual woman. The thing is, while I freely use the term as a convenient shorthand to describe my sexuality, that’s not really how I define myself.

It is generally accepted that an individual human’s sexual preference lies somewhere on a spectrum between 100% heterosexual and 100% homosexual.  Me, personally, I would put myself somewhere around 75% on the heterosexual side.

I’m going to be perfectly honest here and say I love cock; I have done since I sucked my first one at 14 and discarded my virginity at 15.  I love the way it feels in my cunt, I love the way it feels in my arse, I love to suck them and there’s nothing I love more than being taken thoroughly by a man; rough, hard, slow, tender, it depends on the mood and it’s all good.

But, at the same time, I am, and pretty much always have been, attracted to my own sex.  I love our soft curves and sexy bulges, I love boobs as much as any man does, I love burying my face between another woman’s thighs, tasting her juices as I feast on her cunt. For the record, the first person, apart from myself that is, to make me cum, was another girl and, despite being blissfully happy in my relationship with Master C, I still have a regular “girlfriend” that I have sex with.

I should point out that, not only does Master C approve of this, He actively encourages it, and insists that I give Him a blow-by-blow (or should that be lick-by-lick) account of my extra-curricular activities with “The Girl”.

So yes, I enjoy fucking and being fucked by women; so, by that dictionary definition above, I am bisexual.

Truth be told, however, if you put a gun to my head and forced me to choose one over the other, and told me I could never have the other one again; in that scenario there would be no hesitation. As much as I enjoy cunt, I could not live without cock.  For me, cock is the cake, cunt is the icing; together they compliment each other, individually, icing alone is never going to be as satisfying as cake.

So where does that leave us in trying to “define” my sexuality?  Am I bisexual, or am I a straight woman who will sometimes forgo the meat and enjoy the vegetarian option instead?

I don’t like labels. Labels are used by narrow-minded people to try and stuff us into boxes that fit their way of thinking. And that’s fine, except it’s their definition and while it defines me to them, it doesn’t define me to myself.

Personally, the only way of describing myself that I am truly comfortable with is as a sexual human being.  I love sex, the gender of the person I’m having sex with doesn’t actually matter so long as I am having sex with the person my mood decides I want to be having sex with.

Another description is slut, but that pretty much goes without saying.

Spank me! I’ve been a bad girl…


OK, so when I say I’ve been a bad girl, I haven’t done anything out of the ordinary (well, by my standards), but the truth is, sometimes I do deserve getting my arse spanked, and Master C is usually able to come up with some reason why I need a spanking.

Maybe it’s because I’ve made Him cum to soon. Maybe it’s because I am an amoral whore who has spent the entire day sending Him salacious text messages. Maybe it’s because I’ve succumbed (once again) to the softer side of my sexuality and had sex with “The Girl” or another woman, or I’ve been the unashamedly cock-hungry slut that I am and fucked “The Other Guy” or some other totally random bloke.

The reason doesn’t really matter. Suffice to say there is hardly a week that goes by where I don’t commit some transgression that doesn’t involve me bent over Master C’s knee with my skirt flipped up and my knickers round my ankles as His hand slaps my arse hard. Let’s face it, when you’re a naughty little slut like me, getting a good spanking every now and again is simply an occupational hazard.

Of course sometimes it may be something I’m doing during sex that results in Master C needing to spank me.

It’s possible that I’m not quite sucking His cock quite to His liking, and this will result in me getting my arse well and truly tanned until I learn to do it right. After all, He works hard to put food on our table (and for me to burn it) so it’s only fair and right that He gets his cock sucked to His satisfaction, and if I don’t do it right, well I deserve to be thrashed until I learn to do it properly.

Of course, sometimes a spanking is simply to remind me what a naughty and filthy little slut I am.

As He fucks me hard from behind, driving His cock into my cunt or my arse, Master C will often take advantage of my upturned arse cheeks to remind me of what a bad little girl I am and how I’m lucky that He is prepared to put up with me. If I’ve recently been with “The Girl” or another woman, having my cunt stuffed full of cock while He chastises me for my ‘indiscretion’ only helps to emphasis the fact that He is now giving me what that other woman couldn’t, i.e. a lovely, thick, real-live cock.

At the end of the day, there are always numerous reasons why I need to be spanked. The funny thing is, I never seem to learn my lesson…

Sex with the ex


Some of the best sex that I ever had with my ex, was once he became my ex. That’s not to say that the sex we had when we were a couple wasn’t good; it most definitely was. If it hadn’t been good, I wouldn’t have carried on fucking him after he became my ex. No, in a particularly fucked-up kind of way, the reason sex with my ex was even better after we split up was purely down to the fact that he was my ex.

The fact that my ex had a girlfriend made it kind of forbidden.

The fact that his girlfriend was the woman he fucked behind my back then left me for gave it a sort of bitter sweet feeling of revenge.

The fact that he was still fucking me regularly now that he was living with her was deliciously fucked up.

That kind of sums me up.

It’s not that I wanted him back, I most certainly did not. He was a cheating bastard who couldn’t be trusted, the fact that he was still fucking me was proof enough of that. It was, however, that he was an extremely good fuck. In the four years that we had spent together, he had learned exactly what buttons to press, exactly the things to say and the tone in which to say them, that would turn me into a gooey, gagging mess. He knew exactly how I liked my pussy licked, he knew how I liked my boobs to be treated, he knew how to take me to the edge of orgasm and hold me there, deliciously, painfully, torturingly, agonisingly keeping me on the brink until, at exactly the right moment for maximum effect, he would lick that final lick of his tongue, or give that final thrust of his cock that would send me over the precipice into a shuddering, gut-wrenching, toe-curling climax that would leave me exhausted and satisfied.

When he left me, I didn’t really miss him, but I did most definitely miss the sex. When he first approached me about the possibility of hooking-up for a fuck because his girlfriend was away (his exact words), I am ashamed to say, I didn’t even hesitate to accept the proposition. Less than 20 minutes after receiving his text, I was receiving a load of his cum in my mouth. We spent a whole afternoon, evening, night and morning licking, sucking, fucking and cumming; resting only in the time it took us to recover before starting again.

It was wrong and I didn’t care. It was wrong, and that only made it better. It was wrong, so wrong and that was what made it so amazingly fucking good.

Having let him back into my life, and in my cunt (not to mention my mouth and my arse), it would take me almost 18 months to finally wean myself off him. In the end, it wasn’t any moral compunction that made me end it, I simply met the first of my two current guys whom I could enjoy sex with every bit as much as I could with my ex, without the need for feeling any guilt that I might possibly hurt someone. After all, I finally realised that it wasn’t her fault he’d cheated on me, nor was it my fault he cheated on her; no one forced him to stray from either of us, he was simply a cheating bastard who took what he wanted in the guise of giving both her and me what we had become addicted to. It wasn’t healthy, and now I realise that what I have with Master C, The Other Guy and The Girl is so much more satisfying.