Relationship evolution


First of all, I was absolutely delighted that my suggestion was what became this week’s #F4TFriday prompt. The only slight drawback to that honour is, of course, that it means I do have to write something for it.

The questions this week cover how relationships evolve and grow over time. My experiences are based primarily around my relationship with Master C and His acceptance and support of my bisexuality and promiscuity; and the fact that His acceptance has allowed me to grow and become confident in who I am and how I live my life, so that I can now accept my appetites and desires. Master C has provided me with a framework that allows me to explore my sexual personality, to feel no shame in my sexual choices because I know that my actions have balancing consequences.

In addition to Master C, there are, of course, my relationships with “The Girl” and “The Other Guy”; both of which add important elements to my life.

Anyway, enough of that, let’s get to my answers, which is the bit of this post you are probably interested in:

Casual sex, dating, friends with benefits, hook-up, one night stand, fuck-buddy; have you ever had one (or more) of these arrangements? What is the difference?
To me, casual sex can involve any and all of the rest, sometimes more than one can be going on at the same time. I’ve certainly had one-nighters while I’ve also had regular fuckbuddies/friends with benefits.

In my opinion, the difference between a hook-up and a one-nighter is that there is an element of planning involved in the former whereas the latter tends to be more spontaneous. A hook-up generally involves two (or more) people actively planning to meet for sex. It may still however, end up being a one-off. What they can have in common is that they are both fun (hopefully) and there is often no expectation of a repeat.

I’ve never really been much of a dater. My “dates” with Master C didn’t start until we’d been fucking each other for over 6 months. I guess that the difference between a date and a hook up is the expectation. The purpose of hook-ups is almost certainly for sex, a successful date may lead to sex but, while that may be the hoped for outcome there is less “inevitably” about it. I guess, and again this is just me, you wouldn’t arrange a hook-up if you didn’t already fancy and want to fuck the other person. You date where you think there’s at least a possibility that you could fancy the other person.

The common theme is, with the possible exception of dating, is that in all of these situations there is no expectation is exclusivity; all parties are free to explore and enjoy other avenues.

What is the most interesting way you ever met a partner?
I’ve been chatted up in bars and clubs and I’ve hooked up with both men and women through online contact sites. The most outrageous come-on was at a bar. I was being served by a very chunky Irish guy and, as he handed me my drink, he asked, “Would you like a fuck with that?” 30 seconds later we were outside in the lane behind the pub and we were going at it like crazed animals. It was quick, it was rough, it was deliciously dirty and, ultimately, very enjoyable, if not actually satisfying. He came in my mouth, we shared a cigarette (I was a casual drunken smoker in those days) and then I went back to my drink and my friends and he went back to work.

Have you ever had a hook-up become a relationship? How do you know that it had happened?
This for me was an interesting one as it describes my relationship with Master C. We started as random shags, became semi-regular fuckbuddies, progressed to regular fuckbuddies, started “dating”, became a couple, moved in together, and I finally formally submitted to him and became his slut and submissive.

For me, as the “relationship” evolved, there was a growing realisation that I actually enjoyed His company as much, if not more than His cock. There was a growing, and scary, realisation that I actually had feelings for Him; that I liked Him and that, just possibly *whispers* I loved Him. Then came the equally staggering discovery that those feelings were reciprocated. That was when my fate was sealed.

Someone once said that it becomes a relationship when the cuddles become more important than the sex. As a self-confessed cuddle slut, I think that’s a pretty fair assessment.

How would you tell a potential partner you want a non-monogamous or D/s relationship? If you are already in one, how did it evolve?
This hasn’t really come up for me. When I was casual, I just fucked whomever I pleased. I wasn’t committed to anyone and I frequently had more than one guy on the go at the same time.

With Master C, given that we started out as casual, the fact I was fucking other men and women and he was fucking other women wasn’t an issue. By the time we became a couple, Master C was already fully aware that I am an insatiable slut. It was this, probably more than anything else, that led to the D/s dynamic that we now have.  I was free to fuck whom I wanted, but I had to accept the consequences. The fact that, in our dynamic, I am required to recount my transgressions, give an honest self-appraisal of how bad I have been and the possible sanction that my action requires has helped me learn a lot about my desires and needs and how it is appropriate to accommodate them.

If you relationship is poly, what is its principal dynamic? Do you have a primary? A few fuck buddies? Is everyone equal? Does everyone know?
I guess, in the broadest sense of the term, I am in a non-monogamous relationship, one where Master C is my “primary” and both “The Girl” and “The Other Guy” are my “secondaries” and I am also free to enjoy random encounters outside of these. The fact that it’s all out in the open and everyone is happy and I get to enjoy both sides of my sexuality makes it very satisfying.

There’s a certain amount of irony to the fact that while I’ve involved been involved in both MMF and MFF threesome with Master C and “The Girl” individually, I’ve never had a threesome that has involved more than one of my “regular partners” at the same time. Would we ever play as a threesome or possibly even foursome? The honest answer is, I don’t know. The closest we’ve ever come to doing anything like this so far was the drunken cam show “The Girl” and I put on for Master C during our recent girly spa weekend that I told you about last week. It’s something that I have talked about with each of the parties, working out the possible permutations but, while it’s not off the cards entirely, it remains, for now, at least, it’s just a particularly pleasant fantasy that I can call upon in my “alone time”.

What does your ideal relationship look like? Are you already in it?
I suspect, I’ve already found mine. A loving, supportive, and downright deviant Dominant in Master C, who allows me to fuck whomever I wish so long as I am prepared to accept the consequences of my actions,  a very willing girlfriend in the form of “The Girl” and I also have “The Other Guy” for when Master C  isn’t available and I want something more meaningful than a random fuck.

Food For Thought Friday - #F4TFriday

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Putting on a show


So picture the scene, six girlfriends away for a long-awaited girly spa weekend at Stobo Castle to pamper away the mid-January blues. Between us, we booked three rooms and as things worked out, I end up rooming with “The Girl”. Now, as “The Girl” and I have been known to play together, I wasn’t going to complain about this, far from it. If anything, I was figuring out how to take advantage of the situation (and her) from the moment we got to our room.

So at one point in the afternoon, I’m having a quick Skype with Master C, generally just telling Him about the place and so on, when “The Girl” emerges from the bathroom after her shower.

Of course, “The Girl” being “The Girl”, she suddenly decides the room is too warm and discards her dressing gown before striding back and forth around the room putting herself in the view of the camera every couple of seconds.

After that, the sequence of events gets a bit blurred. Suffice to say I end up equally naked and “The Girl” is snogging my face off. Meanwhile, a quick glance at the screen reveals that Master C’s face has now been replaced by His extremely hard and very erect cock.

The next half hour or so was a blur of boob sucking, clit licking and cunt fingering, punctuated with Master C’s increasingly laboured commands to “fuck her cunt with your fingers” or “sit on her face” and other such things.

Now Master C has always enjoyed hearing about my play sessions with “The Girl” and/or other women, and he has, of course, watched me play with others in person, but this is the first time He’s ever watched me in action remotely. Seeing His hard cock on the screen and knowing I was being watched was a massive turn on that had my cunt soaked and me coming hard again and again. “The Girl”, for her part was every bit as orgasmic as I was.

The finalé came with both “The Girl” and I kneeling before the screen, mouths open as if we were ready to receive his load, as Master C’s cock erupted, sending thick spurts of cum into the air. Such a waste, but also such an amazingly hot experience.

Of course, I knew I was going to be punished when I got home for being such a brazen slut, and that exited state of trepidation added another layer of enjoyment to the whole weekend. Given the chance I’m sure Master C would love to punish “The Girl” too for leading his wilful slut astray. He might have to wait a while for that.

So, what, you may ask, does this have to do with this week’s question? The truthful answer is, probably not a lot, although it does kind of involve me being naked for an audience, and it seemed like to good a story not to share with you.

Can you find it in your hearts to forgive for going off script this week?  Even just a little bit… I’ll be a good girl, I promise…

Food For Thought Friday - #F4TFriday

I touch myself


Master C loves to watch me bring myself to orgasm and, fortunately, I love to put on a show for him.

Enjoyable as a good wank is, there’s something undeniably hot about knowing that someone is watching you and is getting off to you getting yourself off.

When I come, I lick my juices off my fingers and then accept Master C’s cock as He wanks Himself off into my mouth; rewarding me with a thick load of cum for turning Him on with my show.

It’s an experience that I find particularly hot.

Does Master C think of me when He wanks? I don’t know, and to be honest, it doesn’t really matter. What goes on in His mind to add to the sensory experience and help Him come is up to him. It might be me, it might be Jessica Alba, it may even be me and Jessica Alba if He’s really lucky.

So who or what do I think about when I’m wanking? It all depends really.

Sometimes I’ll be having a particularly salacious daydream. This may involve Master C or “The Other Guy”, it may involve a celebrity, it may just be a faceless other person, it doesn’t matter. In this case the thought comes first, the thought causes the wank; I use my fingers and/or toys to give some substance to the daydream, to give it a little more realness. If I’m imagining that Master C/Ryan Gosling/nameless stranger is fucking me, I want to feel something in whatever hole my daydream has me being fucked in. The daydream provides the backdrop while my fingers/toys bring it to life.

Usually though, it’s the other way around; I’ll begin to play with myself and then I’ll conjure up something in my mind to give it something to work with and connect to the sensations coming from my boobs or my cunt. I may remember a particularly good shag that I’ve had. Perhaps it was the setting that made it special rather than the fuck itself. It may or may not involve Master C. It may or may not involve a guy at all; sometimes my hottest fantasies are those where I’m with “The Girl” or possibly even another girl. The sex I’m having in my head may be soft and romantic, or it could be hard, rough, verging on brutal. Sometimes I’ll imagine a one-on-one scene, at other times I’ll imagine multiple partners, be they people I know or total strangers.

The fantasy fits my mood. If I want to enjoy a long, slow wank, I’ll picture something tender and protracted. If I want to get off in a hurry, I’ll imagine something rough and urgent.

The fact is, there is a wank for every mood, and a fantasy for every wank, all I have to do is match them up in my head.

#MasturbationMonday

Keeping it casual


I have it on the very best authority that we redheaded girls are insatiable, immoral, wanton sluts. Certainly, I will admit that I’ve never had difficulty keeping emotional attachments out of sex. Yes I love the additional element of having sex with someone I love, but I also love the purely physical sensations of a good fuck.

Whilst I can’t say that I’ve never had a “Fuck Buddy”, I definitely have “Friends With Benefits”, friends with whom I have sex with on a fairly regular basis; the most notable being “The Girl” and “The Other Guy“.

These friendships have, so far, lasted several years, so in that respect, they count as long term; and while I have strong bonds with them (some more than others), the only place I seek the emotional, companionable support of a partnership is with Master C.

I enjoy fucking. I enjoying fucking and being fucked by other people. I make no bones about it, I am an insatiable slut. But while I love being with my FwBs for what they do to me and how they make me feel sexually as both a lover/partner and as a woman, the only one I love is Master C; he is the one I simply could not be with out.

Quite simply, as well as being my Master, He is my rock, my soul mate, my world. I maybe an insatiable slut, but I am also an incurably romantic slut. Yes, I “love” my FwBs as friends, but if you took away the sex, they would still, in most cases, be friends. With Master C, there is the full package of intimacy; physical, spiritual, emotional, intellectual and sexual. It is, perhaps, because of this, knowing that I have all this, that I am able to enjoy sex with others without fee of any other entanglement, and just concentrate on enjoying the sex.

As for one-night stands, well, I’ve recounted my experiences of these often enough for it to probably go without saying that these are something else that I enjoy and that, luckily for me, Master C allows me the freedom to enjoy so long as I am prepared to accept the consequences of letting my cunt do my thinking for me.

I am particularly fortunate that I am able to enjoy these side relationships, both with my long-term FwBs and my random one-nighters. I am, however fully aware that I can only have these as added benefits within the context of a strong, fully bound together primary relationship with Master C.

Food For Thought Friday - #F4TFriday

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

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.