I like how we talk while we walk,
Watching your mouth form the words
As they spin through my thoughts
Forming images in my head of us in bed.
This is a lust song,
A poem about the magic of your presence,
Our headlamps making the ice a glittering landscape,
And the steam of your breath on my lips.
This is a lust song,
A poem about longing that is seldom satiated for long.
Huddled away from the winter cold, your hands are bold,
They leave me gasping and greedy.
This is a lust song,
A poem about both weakness and strength.
You are the melody I can’t get out of my mind,
You are three hours spent sweating in a cold tent.
Remember how we could fly down the hill,
Heedless of the gathering dark?
That is a lust song,
A poem about conviction. And friction.
The taste of his semen is still in my mouth. He is lying on his back with his eyes closed, a smug blissful smile on his face. I feel very close to him, but I am also enjoying the fact that I sent him into an ecstatic stupor. In these post-orgasm moments we are still wallowing in the pleasure we shared – first he focused on me and then I gave to him. He came this time, but often he does not.
To paraphrase Emerson, pleasure is a journey, not a destination. Neither of us really cares if we orgasm or not. I mean, we are trying to connect to each other and feel good, so an orgasm is often the natural result of that, but coming is not the goal. We are always there for the exploration of pleasure and the expression of love. I live for the experience of using pleasure to open him up like a can opener, hug his inner demons, and ride him like a rocket to the moon. It’s a journey.
Like any journey, we tend to follow some basic steps. We might plan, have a dialog about desires and expectations or make special requests. We prepare, whether that means getting out specific sex toys or going to the bathroom. Sometimes this means unpacking emotional baggage that has collected between us so we can be totally clean and present with each other. Once we embark, we follow our instincts. One of us might drive, taking charge and providing sensual delights for the other. The person being receptive can always make requests or suggestions. We can even decide to pleasure each other at the same time, letting all of the input overwhelm our senses.
When we follow the energy between us, we tend to know when to stop, change activities, or push harder. I like to draw things out as long as I can, bringing him right up to the edge of orgasm and keeping him there. Or approaching the apex, then letting the energy fade, only to build it back up again. He does this to me as well. Pleasure is a journey. How much fun can we have when we are naked together?
We do eventually get to a destination. That destination is not always an orgasm. It often is, but sometimes I get too overstimulated to come right then. I truly do not care because it feels so amazing. I want it to go on forever. It kind of does, because we make love all of the time in everything that we do. When pleasure is a journey, the definition of sex gets pretty loose. We are making love when we cook dinner together, when we snuggle together in front of a movie, when we have passionate discussions, or even when we grocery shop together. It’s there in every kiss and brush of skin on skin. But while we carry this love with us always, each journey tends to have some sort of climax.
After the energy peaks, we coast on a hormone high. In a destination driven system, this would be the “refractory period,” the phase during which a male is physiologically unable to orgasm again. The implication is that sex stops because the guy isn’t able to jizz, but pleasure is infinite. Skin is extremely sensitive in this state. It’s possible to for us to draw out the sensations for quite a while. Or ground out the energy if that feels right and be totally into each other – lay entwined, match relaxed breathing, laugh together, look in each other’s eyes, feed each other tasty food. I like it when he puts steady pressure on my chest with the palm of his hand. We bask in the glow of our interconnectedness.
That’s where I am now – happily remembering the sensation of his cock in my mouth, the taste of pre-cum on my tongue as I flick across the tip, his stomach muscles tense as I suck harder, his breath fast and harsh, his fingers in my hair… Then the feel of his heartbeat against my cheek, relaxing my body into his, fingertips tracing the curve of my shoulder, his very satisfied smile until I kissed his lips into softness… Working on projects separately, but finding reasons every so often to kiss the back of his neck, or look into his eyes, or scratch his back…
We’ve both known lovers for whom the orgasm was the goal. I understand it, I like to come. For many years, I had partners where my pleasure wasn’t a priority, so fighting for the ability to orgasm in the relationship made sense, but that dynamic just makes me feel like I’m always being shorted. I’m not interested in zero-sum sex.
The process of giving and receiving is incredibly powerful. It’s been difficult for me to learn how to trust him enough to let him do what he wants to my body, but now I just melt. He does such amazing things to me. His openness with me has been tremendously empowering for me as a person. I have a confidence that I learned with his balls in my hand. With a partner for whom pleasure is a journey, everything is about abundance. I find that the warmth of the journey carries me a long way. Not only do I feel fantastic about myself and my partner, I spill over with love in all of my relationships and have more to give to my whole family.
Photo courtesy of Gritty Woman
Welcome to e[lust] - The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at e[lust]. Want to be included in e[lust] #55? Start with the rules, come back February 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!
~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~
~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~
~ Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~
Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships
Sex Toys Storage: Hiding from People
SexyLittleIdeas -11 Annoying yet Sexual Dares
His PTSD Cheated on Me
You’re Art but I’m Not
Anger and intimacy
Among a Sea of Submissives
My experiences with unwanted intercourse
Phoenix lies and gets herself in trouble
The Storm Behind the Calm
Why I eat your pussy
Light My Fire – Zoe Tries Fire Play
Spreading Christmas Cheer
I write a letter to The Neighbor
Sa’afia’s punishment night (1st IV scenes)
Both ends of the spectrum
Love of Flesh; Want for Blood
Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish
Sex News,Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor
Darling, I suddenly really want you to squeeze my breasts, I say out of the blue. We are lying side by side on the bed. We’ve been talking, but this wave of longing has swept over me. I am envisioning him sitting on top of me, massaging my breasts. This isn’t something we normally do, but since the desire is there, I am trying to communicate it.
Harold is game. He straddles my waist and gives my breasts a good squeeze through my shirt. His hands are very warm. I start to feel turned on. He pushes my shirt up and I think – no, no, I want it through the shirt, it feels awesome – but I don’t say anything. He starts to focus on my nipples, which is normal foreplay for us, but not really what I wanted. Still, it feels pretty good. He peels off my panties and goes down on me. Harold is very skilled with his tongue and I am torn. This isn’t what I wanted. Do I stop him and explain again what I was hoping for? Do I let him keep going, trying to let go of my disappointment and resentment and lose myself in the pleasure?
He senses that I am not fully present and stops, gazing up at me. I take a deep breath and decide that trying to explain the type of connection I am lusting after is going to be best for both of us. It’s obvious that Harold can tell I’m not so into what we’re doing. I know he wants to know what is going to drive me wild, so I direct him back to my breasts. Not my nipples, full breast massage.
After a few awkward instructions, we are starting to get the hang of this breast squeezing thing. I am writhing in ecstasy, just feeling his hands cup my breasts. I kind of lose control, moaning, back arching – I am on the verge of orgasm with just his palpating. I watch his face. His eyes are closed and the look on his face is good. He looks very young, around 13 or 14, and maybe like a boy who has been given permission to do something he’s always wanted to do, but didn’t want to be bad.
Now he adds some nipple stimulation and I’m ready for it. I’m incredibly turned on. I think I could come just like this, but he’s pulling off his pants as fast as he can and sliding his cock into my super wet cunt. He keeps squeezing my breasts while we fuck. It all feels perfectly right.
I don’t quite manage to come before he does, but I can feel him throbbing inside me while he yells in the throes of his orgasm. As soon as he finishes, he digs around in the bedside table for the vibrator. He makes sure that I have a happy ending.
We bask in the afterglow, holding hands and talking about squeezing breasts. It’s funny that this hasn’t come up in all our years of flirting and fucking. I really enjoy attention paid to my breasts. I ask why he never grabs my boobs the way he grabs my ass when we are messing around. Don’t they appeal?
No, of course, he says, my breasts turn him on like crazy. He thinks a little, puzzled. He realizes that he had early experiences where women had strong negative associations with having their breasts handled. Grabbing breasts was what disrespectful boys did. Considerate boys, apparently, only touched breasts with exquisite delicacy. On some level, without realizing it, he had adopted this as a universal preference, and it took me very explicitly requesting fondling and squeezing to even be aware of his preconceptions.
I’m glad that I did. It can be so hard to speak up about sexual desires, even in an open and accepting relationship like ours. It takes practice to say no to the things you don’t want. I find it even harder to insist on the things I want, but it seems to pay off big time. Harold stands ready to squeeze my breasts whenever I desire it.
Harold tells me that “fundament” is a nice medieval word for the asshole. It’s making me giggle, especially since we’ve been revisiting a few of our anal-play explorations, or “fundamentals.” Over the years we’ve tried a lot of things. Some of them were total flops and some were so successful that we integrated them into our standard practices. The rest, the ones that landed somewhere in the middle, were often pretty good, but for whatever reason, we didn’t do it again. Well, lately we’ve been thinking… What about putting ginger in our arses again? Where is that awesome butt plug with the tail? Why did we stop doing electrosex?
Opening up old experiments for further exploration is fun, kind of like visiting friends you haven’t seen for ages. The fact the Harold and I have stories from our first adventures with each of these things just adds to our pleasure. There may be a thrill over trying something new, but additional play lets you go deeper.
In April of 2011, we published two posts on figging (lab and results) that have definitely been one of our most popular topics ever on the site. We wrote our figging information in a very tongue-in-cheek quasi-academic science-lab format, complete with a downloadable lab result form. I’m not sure that anyone got that we were joking. Despite our silliness, we were serious about sticking fingers of ginger into our bottoms. We’ve tried this experiment a couple of times, but not for a number of years now. When I repeatedly found myself daydreaming over large hands of ginger at the grocery store, I figured we might as well give it another go.
In my original research, I read that peeling and preparing the ginger fig a day ahead of using it would increase the potency. I am eternally curious, so I had to give that a try. The day before a date with Harold, I carefully selected two segments of ginger. When I was done they each looked like a crooked finger. I put them in a ziplock bag in the fridge for about 30 hours.
We only occasionally play with my ass, so it was exciting to prepare for the fig. At first I didn’t notice anything but the increased pressure of having something in my anus. Then it started to burn. It wasn’t uncomfortable, more like heat. My ass and genitals felt hot. It’s intense in a good way. I came in about 3 seconds with the vibrator. It was similar with Harold. I’d hoped to be able to apply prostate pressure with the fig, but it didn’t really matter. He was hard and ready to go. We fucked, but the heat and arousal made it fairly quick and intense. Preparing the fig ahead of time does increase the effect. And I still think there is a sort of psychoactive effect to having ginger in your bum.
Figging is totally cool. We would probably use ginger more often in our anal play, but I’m not always good at preparing ahead. I’m currently seeing how long a ginger fig can sit in the fridge before drying out or going bad. Maybe I can just always have one ready!
Crystal Minx Tail Plug
A couple of years ago we wrote a review of a pyrex butt plug that had a real fur tail attached. It was given to me by a very cool company called Crystal Delights, which has since expanded in several incredible directions (check out these Kitty plugs, Reignbow Pony tails, bunny tails, and gorgeous glass dildoes). Wearing this fur tail was a very unique sexual experience for us. Feeling your tail brush the backs of your legs is very sensuous and arousing in a primal way, but for some reason, the tail got set aside at some point and we kind of forgot about it. Until recently…
Last month there was an occasion when I really wanted some sort of anal stimulation and what Harold came up with was the tail plug. We were also doing some power-play, where Harold was Topping me, so this was an interesting layer to add to the energy mix. Wearing the tail while being bound and spanked was super hot! Now I just have to figure out how to keep my tail out of the way.
In my original review, I was obviously worried about being branded a Furry. I have matured since then and could not care less. Wearing that tail is wild, sexy fun – truly fundamental.
Oh yeah, now I remember why we stopped playing with e-stim – it was that time I had Harold all wired up and he ended up coming blood. It was the sound in his penis and not the electroplay that caused the bleeding, but I still have a strong association. If I recall correctly, though, electrosex was getting pretty interesting before that.
My experience of using electricity sexually is that you have to be intelligent about it (take your brain with you while you are playing) and that it leads to creativity and making stuff. Also, there is not enough information out there about what to do or how to play safely. I find that I have no trouble running current through Harold in a way that is sexy for him, but I still have yet to figure out anything that is more than mildly interesting for me.
Santa brought me a new TENS unit, presumably because I’ve been very bad. I’m sure he meant for me to use it on my neck pain, right? The instructions are in Chinese and it plays a cute little melody when you turn it on. It can handle six leads and it has more power than the old unit. Based on recent experience, I can tell you that it works very well to torture balls.
E-stim seems to work best anally, perhaps because it’s easy to stick something conductive into your bum. Harold just made an anal probe out of copper plumbing bits. I’m excited to see what we can come up with in the future, using the conductive self-adhesive tape we found on the internet! I’m planning on wiring up a couple of our favorite anal toys and maybe a dildo or two.
I can’t say if figging, the fur tail butt plug, and the electrosex experimentations will continue to be a thing. Our sex life is always evolving and expanding. We follow our desires. If it continues to have heat, we’ll keep doing it, but I’m sure that we’ll keep playing with our assholes. That’s fundamental.
It’s so easy to take something for granted. Like the tip of your tongue. I never fully appreciated how awesome my tongue is until a few weeks ago, when I had some dental work done and the tip of my tongue never stopped being numb. It’s just the end on the left side, but I’m going crazy.
I guess this happens sometimes – some damage to the lingual nerve occurs accidentally during the numbing shots for routine fillings. I’m harder to get numb than most people, maybe my nerves run differently, I don’t know. It is supposed to get better as the damaged part regenerates. Nerves are slow to heal. I am not patient. I want my tongue back.
It feels weird and tingly all the time, sort of similar to when I’ve scalded my tongue on something that’s too hot. Only it’s been going on for nearly a month, leaving me hyper-aware of the tip of my tongue all of the time. This problem with my tongue is affecting me in several important areas: speaking, eating, and kissing.
I find it hard to talk. It feels so strange. I don’t think anyone notices but I feel self-conscious, like I am speaking with a mouth full of cotton balls. I keep scraping my tongue on my teeth or biting my cheek. Articulation is frustrating. Since expressing myself is pretty important, feeling speech-impaired is getting to me.
I normally enjoy eating rather immensely. Food is a sensual pleasure. Now, not only is it physically more challenging to eat on that side of my mouth, my taste buds are also affected. SO sad!
Kissing is by far my most keenly felt loss. How can I explore my lover’s body with my mouth if I can’t feel anything with my tongue? How can I flick the tip of my tongue across sensitive areas? How can we make out, our tongues darting in and out of each other’s mouths, if my tongue feels dead?
I’m whinging. All in all, things are not so bad. Numb tongue is a minor discomfort. It could be so much worse. People don’t even notice that there’s a problem, I bet. The damage to my tongue is unlikely to be permanent. I just have to wait. And take my vitamins. And try not to accidentally bite my tongue, lip, or cheeks.
Patience is not my strength. I need distraction.
This morning he woke me with a cup of coffee and some snuggles. I happily wiggled around in the blankets, rubbing against him, kissing, and feeling sleepily sexy. His hands found my skin under the covers. I wanted more of that. I shifted, throwing the comforter back below my ass. I was offering him my butt, expecting that he would squeeze and caress the flesh there. Instead, he pulled the blankets back up around my chin and patted me like a child.
I was hurt. I felt sad that he didn’t want me. Then I felt angry – cuz why didn’t he want me when he started this cuddle session?!? Did I miss some of his cues? It is hard to feel rejected when you are giving yourself to someone you love.
This pattern has been playing out in my sex life way too often lately. I’ve known that fear is the opposite of love, but seeing that anger is the opposite of lust is a new realization. How many marriages fail because of anger and resentment? Oh, I know that some people use anger instead of lust, it’s very passionate, and hate sex has it’s place, but I find it impossible to feel my desire when I am angry.
I am often angry lately. I desperately need more time to myself. I feel all touched out, giving so much of myself to the family for the holidays, and the children being home on vacation. I love these things, but I need some space to be me. I have managed to have amazing wonderful sex in the past few weeks. I want to acknowledge all of the good things in my life, yet I am angry. I sometimes walk around in a dark cloud, hating everyone.
My therapist says that anger is a sign that something needs to change. When I start to feel angry, I ask myself what I would like to change. This is tricky because I am mostly experiencing anger over things that happened long ago that I’ve just recently been able to access. What do I do with ancient anger when it comes up now, when I’m getting intimate with a partner who hasn’t done anything wrong?
I think what I most want is to be able to express anger without retribution. I’m hoping for a better outcome. I want a chance to be in a sexual situation, get angry (about whatever), be heard and reassured, let it all go, and move on. I need to build that kind of trust.
It’s not working that way most of the time. Unfortunately, yet predictably, my partner tends to get angry back. He doesn’t understand why I can’t see him. He feels hurt because he believes he’s done something wrong, even if I tell him it’s not him that I’m angry at. He’s confused because things seem to be going just fine until I blow up.
It’s driving me crazy to have the same basic fight over and over, but I haven’t stopped sharing my feelings with him. We keep trying to pull the anger apart and use it to be closer to each other. We have strong communication skills to draw from, even if I am not skillful in this area. I have faith that we will figure it out.
This morning when I explained to him how sad I was that he didn’t want my ass, I could see him start to respond in the usual fashion – hurt and confusion, expressed through self-defense, beginning to give way to anger. Then he stopped. I don’t know what was going through his mind. He was loving and gentle, but didn’t say anything. I lay on top of him and slowly started to feel incredibly turned on by our bodies touching. I wiggled and his cock got hard against my crotch. We made love. It was awesome and reassuring.
I got the outcome I was hoping for. I was heard and reassured, even though my anger is often very triggering for him. I think it worked for him too because he did get hard and that usually only happens if he is feeling open and trusting.
Anger is really tricky. A lot of my power is caught up in anger. I want to be able to express anger in a way that releases the yucky feelings and is empowering. I hate feeling stuck. I don’t want to walk around hating everyone. And I certainly don’t want anger to get in the way of feeling desire.
I want to use anger to create change, especially in ways that develop more intimacy. I’m so scared of being rejected for my anger, but it’s a part of me and it matters. He says he wants all of me, so I’ll keep sharing everything. Fuck anger.