Getting to the bottom of things


Yes, this is a post about anal sex. Now, I think it’s fair to say that women generally fall into one of three camps when it comes to anal sex:

  • Those that have never tried it.
  • Those who have tried it and don’t like it.
  • Those who have tried it and enjoy it.

I am thoroughly in the third group. The reason for this being that I’m fortunate to have a partner who knows how to do it right. Having said that, It may come as a bit of a surprise to you, especially given how much I enjoy it and how much of a mainstay of my submissiveness it has become, that I actually did not expect to enjoy anal sex. I was curious about it, and while my girlfriends and I were all agreed on how much we enjoyed fucking, sucking guys cocks and getting out cunts thoroughly licked, when it came to anal, the feedback from those that had tried it ranged from the damning it with faint praise with comments like “well, it wasn’t too bad, and at least he liked it” to the outright “there’s no fucking way I’m doing that again”. None of my friends, it seemed had a particularly positive experience with it.

Porn, didn’t really help. In the porn I watched, it seemed that girls’ arses were always ready to be fucked; generally, I realise now although it didn’t occur to me then, because they have been pre-lubed. And that, you see, is where I think the crux of the problems that my girl friends who didn’t like it lay. Unlike our cunts, our arses are not self-lubricating; the whole “Oops, sorry, wrong hole” thing doesn’t actually work. A man can no more stick their cock into an unlubricated arse, than they can an unlubricated cunt. Now, whereas, with some foreplay and attention, a cunt will get wet, no amount of foreplay will make an arsehole naturally wet enough to take a cock. Sadly, a lot of young people get their “sex education” from porn and it gives them completely inaccurate expectations of how bodies actually work.

Now, I think I’ve alluded to the fact that I’m willing to give most things a try, and, the issues with porn that I’ve described above notwithstanding, from the depictions I had seen of it, there was something delightfully degrading and downright filthy about it that appealed at some very basic level to me. I hadn’t even began to explore my submissive nature at this stage, but with hindsight it was quite clear that it was there all along. Even back then, at 19/20, I liked the feeling of being “used” by the guy who was fucking me, I loved the experience of being “taken”, and the more roughly I was “taken”, the more I enjoyed it.

And so it happened that, after quite a lot to drink, and having already been fucked senseless and eaten to numerous orgasms, I decided to let my curiosity get the better of me. I wasn’t a stranger to having the guy in question’s finger (or occasionally, fingers) up me when he was fucking me or eating me out and so, with generous quantities of lube being applied, he slowly got me relaxed and opened up with open, then two, and finally three fingers before replacing them with his cock.

Yes, it was a slightly strange sensation at first; it also hurt, despite the lube, but it actually felt pretty good. When he started working his cock in and out, it felt just as deliciously dirty as I thought it would, the discomfort only heightened my enjoyment.  All the time he kept saying things like “I’m fucking your arse,” and “Your arse feels so tight,” and calling me things like “Filthy Slut!” and “Dirty Bitch!” And in that moment, I was exactly those things. I was a filthy slut, I was a dirty Bitch, I was a bad girl who was getting her arse fucked, and I loved it. When he increased the pace and his balls started slapping against my cunt lips, I loved it even more.

Looking back, I think that was my first encounter with “subspace”. As he pounded my arse with long, hard, deep strokes, and as he told me over and over what a bad girl, what a dirty girl I was, I lost myself in a way that I had never really experienced before. When, at the end, he pulled out, stripped off the condom and shot his load over my back and across my arse cheeks, I really did feel like I was the “filthy slut” that he had been calling me as his cock filled my arse and he fucked me with an intensity that I had rarely experienced before.

So, yes, it’s fairly safe to say that he did enjoy it, unlike my friends, so did I, and it was definitely something that I intended to try again.

And here’s the thing, I believe that, if done properly, anal sex should only hurt as the much as the recipient wants it to. The level of pain and discomfort is directly proportional to the amount of lubrication applied.

As I’ve subsequently discovered, I actually like it to hurt quite a bit, and through practice and experience, I know just how much lubrication Master C or “The Other Guy” have to use to get the desired level of pleasure and pain that a good arse-fucking should deliver. That’s not to say that sometimes whichever one of them is fucking my arse won’t deliberately use less than that “optimum” amount, but that’s fine too on occasions and, sometimes I want it to hurt more than others.

So, if your partner tis one of those women who tends to shy away from anal, you may want to try and find out what her reasons are; it maybe that her only previous experience was with someone who watched too much porn and thought he could force his way in with just a little bit of spit. Anal sex can be a highly enjoyable experience for both partners, but men really have the responsibility to make it so for the person whose arse they want to stick their cock up.

#MasturbationMonday

So long as they have a face…


…I will always have a place to sit.

Make no bones about it, I love having a partner’s tongue between my labia and on my clit, particularly if it is the tongue belonging to Master C. It doesn’t matter whether the other person is face down between my thighs or if I’m kneeling astride their face, the feeling of a tongue and mouth on my cunt is something I will never get too much of.

The risks of me accidentally breaking their nose or of me suffocating the partner in question and depriving myself of their tongue aside, there are good reasons from a purely practical perspective why sitting on a partner’s face is such a convenient position.

For a start, if I’m sucking a man off, once he’s blown his load in my mouth, I can simply just move up his body, straddle his head, lower myself on to his mouth and have him return the compliment.

Alternatively, when I’m on top, fucking him, riding his cock with abandon, it may be that he’s overheating while I still have a way to go. Again, it is so much easier for me to just slide off his cock, move up the bed, plant my cunt on his mouth and have him redress the balance before moving back down and reimpaling myself on him.

Sometimes, if I’m facing in the other direction, while he is mid feast, I can lean forward and either play with his cock with my hands, or take him into my mouth and reciprocate. I mean, let’s be honest,  69s aren’t particularly practical, but they can be fun every now and then. With Master C being at least 6″ taller than me, a 69 is much easier with me on top than it is with Him.

When I’m sitting on  Master C’s or “The Other Guy’s” face, they can reach up and play with my boobs as they lick me. They can finger either of my holes as their tongue lashes my clit. What’s more, by moving my weight around, I can directly control the pressure their tongue applies, giving me exactly the stimulation I want at that particular moment.

The same can be said when I’m having sex with “The Girl”. I’ve sat on her face, she has sat on mine. When we 69, as I am the taller of the two of us, she frequently goes on top.

It’s a very practical position and, as anyone who has ever gone down on a woman will know, it’s actually a lot less uncomfortable for the licker, in terms of not giving yourself a cricked neck, than burying yourself face down between her thighs is.

So, let’s hear it for face-sitting. I don’t care if I’m never going to be able to sell videos of me doing it, or having it done to me, I’m going to go right on enjoying it every chance I have.

#MasturbationMonday The Oral Sex Project

Cheating


I’ll be the first to admit that monogamy has never really been my thing. I have also written before about the fact that, when it comes to casual sex, I couldn’t care less if the guy I’m fucking is in a relationship or not. If I’m fucking a guy and that guy happens to be cheating on his significant other, that is their issue, not mine.

But what about my own “behaviour” on this front?

Well, it’s true, I do fuck other guys. I’m not just talking about “The Other Guy”, I’m talking about casual sex with random men.

Is this cheating?

Some would say that it is. I can understand why they would think so. After all, I am in a committed relationship and I am fucking other guys. What’s more, I am fucking other guys whom I don’t even know, I’m just attracted to them at some primal sexual level.

But, and here’s the thing, within the context of my relationship with Master C, so long as I am honest about the guys I fuck, and so long as I am willing to accept the consequences of fucking other guys, then I am free to fuck whomever I like.

For me, it is not the fucking that constitutes cheating in our relationship, it would be not being honest about it. In any relationship, but especially in a poly/non-monogamous relationship, trust and honesty are paramount. While I am free to fuck anyone that takes my fancy, there is an expectation that I will admit that I have done it and, for those occasions where it involves some random guy I pick up on a night out, accept the punishment for my actions.

Now I fully understand that for some, cheating, even where forgiveness and absolution after the fact is sought and obtained, is still cheating. For Master C and I, this just simply isn’t the case. We accept and embrace the fact that sex is an enjoyable act and that, taking the proper precautions, is an act that does not need to be restricted to just ourselves. He allows me the freedom to explore and enjoy my sexual expression. We are open and honest about such things and, if I’m being completely honest, sometimes the punishment He inflicts afterwards is even more enjoyable than the transgression itself.

I guess what I’m saying here is that everyone has different values, and what is right for Master C and me, may, understandably, be completely wrong for others. If you think that my actions mean I am cheating on Him and that I am lucky to have someone so tolerant, then that’s up to you; although I would agree that I am a very luck woman indeed to have someone like Him as my Master.

What matters most is that Master C and I are happy with our relationship; it works for us. We are open, honest, have each other’s full trust and support and no one is getting hurt (apart from my arse when He thrashes me for being a spoiled little slut, but that’s another matter entirely). That, to me, is so much more important than some conventional “morality” based around monogamy.

#WickedWednesday

The “truth” about size


Having been a member of numerous adult contact sites in the past, and having browsed a few profiles on those same sites, I wasn’t all that surprised when I noticed that a lot of women want the men they meet to be “well hung”. What did surprise me was the number who insist that only men with cocks greater than 8″ (or in some cases the specification was greater than 9″) should bother contacting them.

This got me to wondering just how many “genuine” contacts they get.

It is generally accepted that the average length of the male organ, when erect is approximately 5½-6½”. Now, I know, averages being averages means that there must be a distribution of lengths on either side of that figure. Fair enough, I get that. I’ve had quite a few cocks in my life and some have been longer and some have been shorter but, typically, they’ve all been much of a muchness (thickness, on the other hand…)

Anyway, back to my point. When a woman specifies such a requirement, how does she actually know what she’s getting in advance? OK, there are pictures on these sites (believe me, there are lots of pictures…) but, to be perfectly frank, these don’t actually tell the viewer anything about how long they are.

So, given that the photos aren’t much to go by, unless there’s some frame of reference to give an idea of scale, It does beg the question about how she knows the cock she is going to get meets the required specification.

Do these women insist on documentary evidence?

Do they carry a measuring tape around with them at all times?

If the latter, what happens when they unwrap the aforementioned ‘gift’ and discover it is short by a fraction? Do they just kick him out and dig out their favourite toy instead?

That said, even if the guy does actually measure up, it’s still no guarantee of success. The biggest guy I ever had claimed to be 9″. I took that with a pinch of salt and was right to do so as, in reality, he was probably nearer to 8″ (no, I didn’t measure him, Master C’s cock is the only cock I have measured and that was simply as a bit of a laugh, but with hindsight, the cock of the man in question wasn’t really that much longer than Master C’s, and I know how long 1½” is, and he wasn’t that much longer). The sad thing was, he was probably the crappest shag I’ve ever had. He was so impressed with his size (and naturally assumed I would be too), that his technique was sadly deficient. 10/10 for content, certainly, but only 2/10 for application.

Now, the simple biological fact is that the most sensitive part of a woman’s vagina is in the first 3½” – 4″ so, as long as your cock is at least that long, you’re probably going to be stimulating all the right nerve endings. Anything more than this is simply filling. Don’t get me wrong, I do love to feel full, but I get more pleasure out of feeling stretched. If I’m being totally honest, once a guy is inside me, unless his cock is so long that the head of it is continually banging against my cervix (not a sensation I enjoy, believe me) then I haven’t really got any idea how long or short his cock is.

And, the thing is, guys who have (or perceive themselves to have, regardless of whether or not the actually have) do, in my experience at least, tend to try harder to satisfy us women. They tend to be better with their tongues, they tend to touch more, they tend to engage us more in a sensual way than their longer phallused counterparts. My simple rule of thumb, derived from bitter experience, is that the bigger the dick the guy has, the bigger the dick he tends to be. My alleged 9″ guy was so impressed with his cock that he seemed to think I should, I don’t know, swoon in it’s presence or bow down and worship it, or something. He certainly seemed to believe being penetrated by it should provide me with all the pleasure I could possibly want. Sadly, that wasn’t the case.

A big cock doesn’t turn a crap shag into a great one, but it can turn a mediocre one into a towering disappointment.

So, getting back to my original point, why would any woman insist on a particular size given that there is no guarantee of satisfaction? Wouldn’t insistence on ability be more beneficial (if a lot harder to quantify)?

Don’t get me wrong, if a guy has a nice sized cock, and can use it (eg, Master C/”The Other Guy”) then this is great, but if I cant have size and ability, then I will choose ability over size every time. Life is too short to put up with crap sex and if the guy you’re with really knows how to push all your buttons and can fuck you seven shades of senseless, then his cock is quite clearly the ideal size for the job.

#MasturbationMonday

 

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

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 Tell Me About

Your sub, your way?


When it comes to sex, I love having things to be done to me. I enjoy being spanked, I love being restrained, blindfolds figure quite frequently in my sex play and I thoroughly love being taken, by a strong, confident man who is comfortable and secure enough to use my body in a way that brings him, and ultimately me, pleasure.

I’ve used that word: “taken” again. As I mentioned in a recent post on the subject of blow-jobs, the vast majority of sexual acts are done, no matter how actively and enthusiastically we participate, to women. Nature has designed the female body to be the receiver. Not that I’m complaining, I do like being on the receiving end of a bloody good fuck, and both Master C and “The Other Guy” are particularly adept at dishing those out. The result, I believe, is, that the sexual act is inherently submissive from the female perspective. We give our bodies to our partners, and men take their pleasure from us. Even when we women initiate things, ultimately it is our legs that part and we offer ourselves up to our partner.

Now, again, I’m not complaining; I love that feeling of having whichever hole is being taken stretched and filled by a cock. I love being pinned down beneath a guy as he thrusts into me, filling me with those rock hard, proud several inches of flesh.

I’m all in favour of sexual equality, but the male and female bodies are not designed to be equal.

Now, I like a little tenderness and romance; I am a woman after all, but I also like a man who knows what he wants. I want my men to be, well, manly. I want them to fuck me properly. Sometimes this can be slow and gentle and loving, other times it can be rough, fast, hard.

It’s a huge turn-on for me, when Master C comes home, kisses me roughly, spins me around, bends me over the table, flips up my skirt and just takes me roughly from behind and just pounds my cunt or arse until He cums hard inside me. It’s a sign that He wants me for that purpose and that purpose alone. I know, because I’ve asked, and He’s admitted, that at that particular moment, it doesn’t actually matter that it’s me He’s fucking, all Master C is aware of is His own need; to all intents and purposes, I am simply an object for him to take His gratification from and, ironically (and I’m aware the rabidly feminist of my readers will be appalled by this), as a woman, I relish in this. It’s primal, it’s animal and it’s knicker-moisteningly good.

At other times, what starts off as slow and tender can, as the passion mounts, slowly grow until it becomes a full-on cunt pounding, and again, that’s great.

We women are receivers; men are givers and takers; that’s how nature has designed us. That’s not to say that we women can’t use men for our own pleasure; of course we can. I do frequently, and I’m sure most, if not all women reading this do, or have done so.

But for me, much of the pleasure comes from tipping the man I happen to be with, whether it be Master C, “The Other Guy” or some random I’ve met in the pub, over the edge so he releases his inner Cro-Magnon. Much as I love tenderness and romance, I also love it hard and rough; the kind of sex that leaves both participants sweaty, exhausted and, in my case at least, satisfyingly achy in places.

So I guess some of the submissive in me that comes, for no other reason, than the fact that I have a vagina, and I love having it stuffed full of penis. Sometimes I think that the human body is the model of bad design, but in sex, I think nature got it about right…

#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

The photogenic penis and adult contact sites


OK, so I realise this really doesn’t have very much, or possibly even anything to do with the prompt that No Pants Endurance has set, but it’s one of those perennial questions that comes around, so to speak, every now and then. The question that frequently gets asked us girly sex bloggers is if we get sent unsolicited photos of men’s genitalia, and if so, how many. Thankfully, these days, I receive very few; but in my Adult Friend Finder days, I used to receive anything between 5 – 10 a day. Now I’m fine with a bit of penile bombardment, especially when the penis doing the bombarding belongs to Master C or the “Other Guy”, but there are limits.

The pictures I received were all of fine specimens, but having spent a few months on that, and other sites of that ilk, I can see why so many women get turned off by them. I mean, we ladies do like to shop around, and the adult contact site is kind of a guy’s shop window, I get that, but, the truth is, they all look like cocks. It’s a bit like going into Currys or John Lewis and being presented with a wall of washing machines; we know we want one, but can’t tell very much about them based just on what they look like.

Penises come (no pun intended), in a variety of shapes and sizes. Well, that’s not strictly true. They do present themselves in an infinite variety of sizes; from long and thin, to short and thick, from straight to bendy, and everything in between, but by an large, in terms of shape, they are all pretty much, well, you know,cock shaped. They are, it must be said, designed for function rather than aesthetics in my opinion. I’m not knocking cocks, they are often very good at what they do (some better than others, but that’s down to the owner, not the actual cock), but there are, I believe, much nicer bits of a man’s body to look at.

Now, OK, it doesn’t bother me that much. After all, I:

a) Like cocks, well, the way they feel inside me, not so much for their aesthetic value; and

b) Like one cock very much in particular. It’s the one I come home to every night and regularly makes me cum.

But, put yourselves in the women’s shoes for a second (might be a tight squeeze, but the results might be worth it). As I mentioned in a previous post about cock size, there’s only so much you can glean from a photo. You can’t really tell much about its size, you certainly can’t tell anything about the way its owner works it; so what do those pictures tell us?

Well, other than the fact that you have a cock and so, therefore, are definitely a bloke, absolutely nothing. And, given that you are blokes, I can already fairly safely assume that you have a cock, so you’re telling me nothing I don’t already know.

Now, that being the case, how am I, or indeed any woman going to be able to determine anything useful when all we’re being presented with is a picture of a bit that:

a) We already know you have; and

b) If a woman meets you and decides that nothing’s going to happen, she’s never going to see, let alone feel.

I’ll be honest, as I said, I like cocks, but I’ve never yet seen a photo of one (especially a photo that shows nothing but a cock) that’s made me go “WOW!!! I must have that inside me!”. Again, actually, that’s not strictly true, but when Master C or the “Other Guy” sext me with a photo of their cocks, I already know everything about it, and I know I want it in me, but I digress…

In the world of adult contact sites, it’s a buyer’s market as far as we women are concerned given by how much you guys outnumber us, so why not give us something more to look at? It doesn’t have to be a face, but showing us a nice toned body (yes, I am that shallow) might help us. And even if, as I said in my previous post, physical attraction doesn’t guarantee sexual satisfaction, if the attraction isn’t there to start with, then your cock, no matter how nice, probably will never get near us.

Any way, just my thoughts on the subject.

#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