Oct 192014
 

Kyle,

In my fantasy you show up at my hotel room, sweeping me off my feet with your suave and dapper style, but it’s Daddy’s hand on my backside that makes me melt. I can’t stop kissing you. I want you in my mouth. Oh Kyle, we only have a few hours. Whatever will we do?

At the hotel door

First kiss

Taste you
Under your boot
Spank me Daddy
Tongues and teeth
Nipples
Grind like this
Take me now
On my knees for you
In your mouth
Your chest

Sweet in your arms

 

(Special thanks to Kyle from Butchtastic for helping me to shoot this fantasy sequence! Stay tuned to see what happens when a couple of gender queered sex-positive bloggers get wild. There’s lots of kissing, talking, giggling, and strap-on wars…)

Sinful Sunday

Aug 252014
 

Love the tuxedoWhen I look in the mirror I am usually pretty happy with what I see. I like my body, my hair, my face – but sometimes I get frustrated when what I see doesn’t fit with how I feel inside. I like being female, but there are times when I feel very male. I struggle with how to present myself as a male. How do I express who I am as a man?

I recently fulfilled a long time fantasy to dress as the man I see myself as and it was really pretty much a perfect evening. I had so much fun! My friends got married and held a masquerade ball. (Congrats guys!) The invitations said, “dress to impress” and I immediately thought about wearing a tuxedo. I’ve always wanted to wear a tux. It seems the epitome of men’s fashion, suave and debonair. What could be sexier?

I fetishize tuxedos to such an extent that just picking up the tux gave me a high like participating in a BDSM scene for a couple of hours. I went to the Tuxedo Club in Kirkland and they were amazing. I had a lot of anxiety going in because I worried that it wouldn’t be right. I was there for over an hour while they explained each piece. I love the details – cufflinks, spats, pocket watches and such. They worked with me to make sure that I had exactly what I wanted in a tuxedo. I left feeling exhilarated.

DW and EvoeI wanted the perfect date for this wedding reception, so I invited DW. I got dressed at his house and he was full of useful information, like tips on how to better use a compression vest to bind my breasts. (“Pull together and you’ve got cleavage, pull up and out toward the armpits and you’ve got pecs.”) I am so grateful to DW for all of his graceful instruction and sense of humor. He also looks damn hot in a tux.

We had fun at the party. I saw people I hadn’t seen in years, and a few of them didn’t recognize me! I felt amazing: strong, sexy, grounded. DW and I got increasingly friskier, groping each other surreptitiously while everyone focused on the bride and groom cutting the cake. It felt good when his fingers brushed against my clit, but I kept wishing that I had decided to pack so he could feel my cock.

DW and Evoe kissingWe left while the night was still young. We stopped at a grocery store because DW insisted on getting me food I could eat, something that earns him a hundred gold stars in my book. Walking through the store in a tux made the experience real. I was not just going to a costume party, I was in public. It was awesome. I want to own a tux so I can put it on to run to the grocery store. (After 5:00 p.m. of course, as DW pointed out.)

Once we had taken off the tuxedos and I had eaten, we retired to the bedroom. DW has a perfect way about him. I feel comfortable and I trust him, which makes it possible (just barely) for me to submit to him. He brings me right up to the point where I would have to stop. I find myself sitting in uncomfortable places that I would not normally tolerate with anyone else. And then I feel amazing afterward. This man has incredible skill.

Pre masquerade He called me “boy” the entire time. I dropped to my knees in front of him. He urged me to take his cock deeper and deeper into my throat, slapping my face when I didn’t try hard enough. I gagged and tears ran down my face, but I eventually found my rhythm.

He wrapped his fingers in my hair and dragged me to the bed. He bent me over the edge and bit my back while I squirmed in protest. He was gone briefly then came back with what I think was a belt. He used it to encourage me to use proper responses to his attentions. It sounded like this: “SMACK. (breath, breath, moan…) Yes Daddy! SMACK. (sucked in breath, exhale) Yes Daddy!” Between the belt and his hand I started to get the hang of it.

Our play got gentler after that. I did more cock sucking. We snuggled. I orgasmed. He is a fabulous kisser. He wove incredible fantasies for me. He rolled me over and fucked me hard, like I had been wanting in a desperate kind of way. I also wanted him to come all over me, so he straddled my hips. We took turns with lube and his cock. He talked dirty to me (cuz I’m a dirty boy). I played with his nipples and really felt like a boy. I could feel my cock and I wanted him to sit on it. I wanted to fuck him with my cock while he spilled on my chest. It was toe-curling, back-arching, super-hot fucking.

Morning strollI had so much fun. I’m still on that high a couple of days later. It’s interesting to me that none of the (sometimes crippling) anxiety I feel in social situations plagued me at the reception. Perhaps it is the power of the tuxedo. Maybe I feel more confident as a boy. Could be that DW puts me at ease. Whatever it is, I’ll take it.

I’ve felt great all weekend. I put on the tux again to take some photos with Harold, this time with me on top. Those images turn me on so much. Like crazy horny. I’ve never had that experience with photos of myself before! I don’t even know what to make of it. Renting a tux has been more than a costume for a party, more than cross-dressing, and more than a fetish. It’s been a dream come true.

Aug 212014
 

Going downWe’ve been laying naked on the bed, chatting in that comfortable stream-of-consiousness way that we have together. The windows are open to the warm air and the sounds of nature. My body is alive to his touch. I am drawn to him, but without any sense of urgency. We belong to each other and we have all afternoon together.

He gets up – I think he is in transit, maybe to get a drink of water or check his phone, maybe get something from the sex toy bag – but he gets stuck. He snags between my legs. My knees fall open, his gaze glued to my cunt. Before I really register what is happening, his tongue is lapping lazy circles around my clitoris.

I had been pretty relaxed to begin with, but I close my eyes and drift through waves of pleasure. He’s good at using his mouth and he knows my body. I just give myself over to his care. My mind wanders. I think about the very first time he gave me head. I was lying in exactly this spot, but in my memory it seems different. I feel myself getting wetter as I get more aroused and I remember that first time being the same, although I interpreted it differently.

I open my eyes and look down at him, “Hey Sweetheart?”

He opens his eyes and looks at me, but doesn’t stop licking, “Uhmmmm?”

“When you do that, do you kind of…spit on me?”

His eyebrows raise, but he doesn’t answer.

“I’ve been thinking about the first time we made love and I was pretty sure you spit on me on purpose to have extra lubrication.”

He sort of nods, keeps licking.

I’m feeling a little foolish but continue on, “I thought that it was a good idea to have extra spit. Now I do that when I go down on someone.”

He pauses for a moment, “I drool.” He goes back to teasing my clit.

“What?”

“I drool during oral sex. I can’t keep it all in my mouth.” He lifts his head and I can see that the whole bottom half of his face is wet.

I begin to giggle. So much for my suave oral sex techniques!

Jan 182014
 
Pleasure is a journey

Image by David Steinberg

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.

Pleasure is a journey

Image by David Steinberg

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?

Pleasure is a journey

Image by David Steinberg

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.

Pleasure is a journey

Image by David Steinberg

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.

Pleasure is a journey

Image by David Steinberg

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.

Jul 172013
 

kissA week without sex – too busy, too stressed, too sad to even get myself off in the shower. A serious lack that I feel in my bones, but at the end of the day I am sticky with sweat and bone tired. I am touched-out and depleted after caring for kids, dogs, chickens, gardens, house and home. I love these things, but my cup is empty. As a brilliant woman once said, I need a little a little sugar in my bowl.

The air presses against my skin like damp socks in hiking boots. I chafe against the weather and a sudden change in plans that threatens to prevent me from running away with Harold for a few hours. I need to unwind. I need to be the center of someone’s full attention for longer than a sentence. I long to be stroked and kissed and free of need. Our eyes meet over the head of our loquacious child and I know that he feels it too. We both pray for a release.

And we get it. Our planets align after all. We are quick to be out the door and into the forest. I feel lighter already. The atmosphere is different under the trees. With each step, I make an effort to let go of my stress. I picture myself as a tree shedding leaves, old dried up cares that no longer nourish me. It starts to rain.

I need to experience the rain with my whole body. Off go all of the clothes. We lie side by side, naked, as big warm drops fall. Finally my walls come down and I start to cry. His fingertips trace a pattern on my stomach, but he lets me have my space. I know he is with me. The rain washes everything away.

My mind drifts, blessedly free of the need to perform, while Harold’s hands caress my body. This is what I’ve needed – to be able to let go and have my love hold the space for a few moments. I come back to myself and lay on top of him, my skin hungry for more contact. My back is caressed by the light rain. I look into Harold’s eyes and see the whole world.

It still takes me a while to get to a place where I want to go further, despite a strong desire for intercourse. I’m on my period and I don’t really want him to go down on me, even though sometimes I love the messiness of it. Today is different, but we get me off anyway, with the canopy of green leaves above and his kisses on my breasts and his fingers inside me and the rain coming down.

Harold breaks the tension in my body like the rain broke the oppressive humidity. I come in twinges and spasms before letting the huge waves pass through my body. We both ride that wave as far as it goes.

Finally, I am wanting to give to him. His cock feels good in my mouth. I like the pressure on the roof of my mouth, the friction of movement, my tongue tracing the ridge of the head. This is where I feel closest to the divine. I could do this for hours but I start to ache for a different kind of fullness.

He enters me and I am riveted by his eyes. I often close my eyes in throes of passion, the experience being largely internal, but not now. I need to see him. I feel so raw. I am penetrated, pinned by cock and gaze, and it permeates some place inside me that has been unable to feel loved. I caress his face and he doesn’t look away. It feels almost unbearably honest to fuck this way. There is no place to hide.

It’s getting harder for him to meet my eyes as he get close to coming. His face contorts, eyes squeeze shut. For an instant I feel everything – the pulse of my cunt welcoming his cock and ready to take his jism, the trees and the forest around us, the sky and the rain kissing my skin, and the entire universe out there – and then my awareness collapses back to Harold’s hoarse cries as he thrusts into me. There is only this moment. I want it to go on forever.

We can’t get closer than this (but every time I think that, we find a way to get closer). My heart is wide open. I am so in love. Suddenly we are laughing and reality reinstates itself. We are covered in tears, sweat, menstrual blood, cum, and glorious rain. There are mosquitos. It’s getting dark and cold and we need to go home.

Feb 092013
 

His cock is erect and twitching before me. My hands brush along his thighs to meet in his groin and lightly trace his impressive erection. I am charmed, reverent. I take my time exploring. I run my tongue from the V of his frenulum, all around the base of the head. Pre-cum dribbles out of the tip – my favorite part, the sweetest taste. I take it with a nimble flick. My hands continue to explore and stroke. My whole world is this, right here, basking in his lust, drawing it out so slowly, letting it build. I take his whole cock in my mouth while I caress his balls. I alternate tempos, seeing what takes him to the edge and what boosts his desire. This is my art, he is my canvass. Together we create love…

Licking the head

Going down

Kissing your cock

 

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Sinful Sunday

Dec 022012
 

Evoë asleepHe says that he doesn’t like to have sex in the morning. He can’t get hard, he says, when his blood sugar is low, let alone muster the energy to come. The morning is my favorite time. I am relaxed, languid with warmth and sleep. Desire flows easily in my body; I feel safe and cherished. He wants to get things done while he is fresh. I want to twine my arms and legs around him, kiss him slowly, sensuously. I fantasize about getting sweaty under the sheets while the morning light shines on us.

This morning he came to me after he had been working for a couple hours, just as the light gathered outside my windows. He snuggled in beside me, faces close enough to draw each other’s breath. I burrowed into him, sleepily enjoying his nearness. We talked, about everything and nothing, simply sharing space, until my hand found his cock.

It wasn’t intentional, me feeling him up. My hands seem to wander his body independent of thought, but we both noticed that I was caressing his penis and balls through his jeans. I unbuckled his belt and unzipped for better access. I discovered that I could get just the head of his cock in my mouth. This seemed to drive him crazy. He was quick to pull down his pants and his boxers after that.

I felt like there was a snake inside me, coiled and deceptively still, waiting to strike. Or the warm glow of a bed of coals awaiting a breath of air to flower into full flame. His fingers slowly circling my clitoris and pinching my nipples sent heat surging through me. I took the whole of his erect cock into my mouth, flicking the tip with my tongue every time I drew back. The liquid tingle in my cunt increased and I had to lay back.

Looking in his eyes, I covered my palm with lube and stroked him while he teased me. I squirmed and groaned, wanting to be penetrated. His cock was so hard that the skin had no give as a slid up and down it’s length with my hand. I could tell that he was getting close to orgasm when he jumped up to take his pants the rest of the way off.

I rolled onto my stomach, lifting my ass up, wanting so badly to be fucked like that. He obliged, letting me help guide him into my cunt. His motions were gentle at first as we found the angle that worked best and settled into a good rhythm. Soon he was pounding into me, my face pressed into the bed. My back ached from being arched in that awkward position, but I didn’t care because it felt so perfect. His cock hit just the right spot inside me.

Our building passion brought us right up to the edge where we hovered for a moment, gasping and moaning, before exploding into a shared orgasm. I lost all sense of self in that moment, a beautiful perfect moment of total union, my body clasped underneath his. Then we were laughing and kissing.

Being a sensitive and caring partner, he immediately found the vibrator and slid his fingers into me. You can’t come too many times, right?  This is my default, no-fail, way to orgasm. If I’ve come a few times already, I’m likely to squirt with him caressing my g-spot. We make love in a lot of different ways, but this just always feels amazing, especially when he adds in nipple stimulation. I think I came in about 60 seconds.

I love morning sex.

Maybe he can have sex in the morning, he says, maybe he can come. (Maybe it’s just my influence.)

Jul 142012
 

Washington coast This week the whole family went camping – all four parents and the four children still at home, at the ocean for five days and four nights. It was fabulous. Despite requiring amazing feats of planning and packing, I think our trip was highly successful. We all worked together to make sure that everyone’s needs got met. I believe that this is one of the main advantages to polyamory – sharing goals and responsibilities so that everyone can have more fun.

We definitely focused on the children’s experience, but we also took care of ourselves. One of our priorities for our vacation was to make sure that each couple in our family had a few hours to themselves to do what they wanted. I think it’s important for the grown ups to have adult time alone together to keep relationships strong. With four of us, it meant that no one individual was ever saddled with all of the children by themselves. My perception is that this arrangement built trust and relationships all the way around.

Pleasing myself in the tentFor my “dates” I was interested in making love. Joel and I were sleeping in the tent that we had fucked like crazy in when we were first together, causing an international scandal. I wanted to make sure that the magic was still there inside those green nylon walls. Harold and Melanie took the children hiking so we could have the campsite to ourselves.

The moment they were gone, I was naked and digging out the only sex toy I brought with me – my vibrator. Joel also removed his clothing, watching me get myself off. He had been reading Rachel Kramer Bussel’s Going Down, Oral Sex Stories so he was eager to bury his face between my thighs, bringing me to orgasm again with his tongue and mouth. There is a lot to be said for creative inspiration!

Joel going downHe was good and hard by then, so I guided him in, my feet resting against his shoulders. It felt amazingly intense to have his cock so deep inside me. He rocked against me while the walls of the tent shuddered in the ocean wind. It was so good, his flesh on mine, surrounded by all of the camping smells, snuggled down on the sleeping bags. When Joel asked if he should come, I was ready.

Afterward, we took a long walk on the beach. We were more relaxed than we normally can manage, talking about whatever came to mind and enjoying the sand and sun. I felt closer to Joel than I have in a long time. It was very sweet and lovely.

The following day I spent time alone with Harold. He had some local sights to show me so we drove around for a while. He took me to the best general store ever, which just proves that he knows how to show a grrrl a good time. We talked a lot, and finally ended up parked on the beach with our picnic lunch. There were people in the distance and the occasional car drove by, but it felt as though we had the beach to ourselves. Seagulls surrounded us.

hand job in the carAfter eating lunch, I started feeling Harold up. We were both pretty hot for each other. He took his pants off altogether so I could play with his cock. There’s something particularly sexy about a hand job or blow job when he’s in the driver’s seat. Maybe it’s that I can beat his cock against the steering wheel.

I was wearing a dress because I had hoped that we would find a way to fuck, so I just slid off my panties, hiked up my skirt, and climbed into the backseat. Harold came around the vehicle and managed to find a position where he could go down on me. I did my best to keep my eyes open to look for anyone passing by.

Come oozing outI wanted Harold to put his fingers inside me, but his hands were not very clean and he’d sliced his finger open the night before shucking oysters. Luckily, I carry black latex-free gloves in my purse for just such a possibility! Before long, I was desperate for Harold to fuck me. He knelt in front of me and I braced my feet on the ceiling.

There we were fucking in the backseat of the car, right in plain view of anyone who might happen by. And a car did come toward us. I pointed it out to Harold and he made a point of coming before it did. We are more than a little exhibitionist. We laughed and held each other, his jism dripping out of my cunt onto the leather seat. We had managed to use our risk taking to renew our close bond.

After, we walked down to the waves and both of us peed in the sand. Peeing in nature always makes me feel both wicked and empowered. We finished our date by feeding the gulls and then going for coffee. We returned to camp feeling closer to each other, our partners, and the children.

peeing in the sandI’m pleased that I managed to have good sex with both of my partners while we were camping. Sometimes it’s difficult for sex outside of the norm to be a tool for intimacy, but I think that in both cases the novelty of the experience, combined with a level of relaxation, worked for us. We did a bunch of fabulously fun things with the children – sandcastles, fort building, lighthouse climbing, dodging waves, kite flying, go-karts, going to the movies, hiking, roasting marshmallows, and telling stories. Giving the adults a chance to do what they want is important too, and it makes everything else more fun. This is poly family camping.

 

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Jun 072012
 

BlyssThe people I love are pretty wonderful. I’m glad that I am polyamorous, in multiple relationships with other people who are also in multiple relationships, because I would hate to have to chose among them. This way I can let each relationship be exactly what it is, without trying to force things into some preconceived ideal of a relationship. It’s not that I don’t believe in monogamy – that totally works for a lot of people. I’m just very thankful for my many loves.

Recently I needed a break and wanted to hike to Goldmyer Hot Springs. Joel willingly held down the fort so I could go. He’s fabulous that way, taking care of the children so I can work or play. My other two loves, Harold and Blyss, hiked with me. Blyss and I are new together and still figuring out how things go, but we’ve all been friends for a long time. She and Harold get along well. In fact, I loved watching them flip each other shit as we walked.

It felt natural to hold hands with one or the other for a time then drift apart. Harold and Blyss are not romantically involved with each other, so rather than forming a triangle together, we are a V, with me at the point and either of them at the ends. Lucky me! Lots of kisses! But my favorite part was just how easy and relaxed everything was.

oral sex in the hot springsThe hot springs are such a magical place. When I’m there my cares melt away. I feel more present, more in my body, and more turned on. Maybe it’s the inundation of the senses – the soothing roar of the river as it rushes past, the sting of cold raindrops on warm flesh, the fresh smell of the water and surrounding plants, the bright flashes as birds dart by. The power and serenity of the space lets me feel more myself than normal and lucky for us, no one else was there that day.

I made my way back into the cave where the spring comes out of the rock. In the heavy, moist air, I sat in the darkness and meditated. My Blyss came to sit next to me. My fingers slowly traced the broad curves of her breasts. I kissed her in the wet darkness, feeling the line of her jaw, her neck, and the hollow between her breasts. I had a moment of knowing perfection – a sacred being connected to another sacred being, in a sacred place. We parted without words and I made my way back out of the cave.

making out in the hot springsLater, I came together with Harold, our bodies intertwined in the water. Our intimacy slowly grew with kisses and groping. I stood over him and he licked my pussy while squeezing my ass. I eased back into the water and took his cock in my mouth before moving up to kiss some more. We looked into each other’s eyes and I carressed his hard on. We had a delicious sense of connection without any real urgency to act sexually.

We got home just in time for Joel to get to his engagement. We talked on the phone to make sure we were both doing okay. Later, when I burst into tears for reasons I was not able to articulate, Blyss and Harold bundled me into bed and both snuggled me. Cozy domestic things comfort me.

It’s this kind of togetherness that makes me happy to be poly. It’s the normal, everyday life things – making dinner, reading bedtime stories to the kids, taking a hike together. Yes, the sex makes me very happy, but in the end, it’s love. And I have lots and lots of love.

 

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Apr 262012
 

We were going to do some bondage photos for you, really we were. We were talking about it, making plans. It’s just that I started to feel all horny. I do have some self-restraint. I would have taken that energy to the photo shoot, but then Harold started getting all Toppy. Harold doesn’t Top very much, actually not at all, and I would like him to Top sometimes, so this was a BIG DEAL.

He kept putting his hand on my throat and handling me roughly. He yanked my shirt up and pulled my nipples free of my bra, pinching them painfully. One hand slid into my jeans. His finger tickled my labia before dipping into my cunt and then rubbing my clit with expert flair. It drove me wild how he handled my body with the ease and competence of ownership. It makes me feel loved. I writhed and moaned at his touch. When he pulled my jeans and panties off, all thoughts of rope and cameras fled my mind.

He went down on me and everything was pure lust and sensation. I can’t think of anything better in the world except for what came next. He pulled off his pants, revealing his hard-on. I lifted my legs, resting my feet on his shoulders, and he slid into me. I might have had a vague thought that we would still take photos, but I was pretty swept away. How have we never fucked with my feet on his shoulders and my back arched before? It’s fucking fantastic! I’ve never had my g-spot so thoroughly probed before.

It didn’t take long for an orgasm to blow my mind. I think I came for three minutes. Then we switched to a side-lying position, which also felt amazingly exquisite. From there, I need a bit of a breather. Harold buried his fingers in my cunt. I reached for my vibrator, thinking that we might try to get me to squirt again, but I got distracted. Again. This time, I simply had to put Harold’s cock in my mouth.

He has a beautiful cock. I derive a lot of pleasure out of licking and sucking it. I like tracing the contours with my tongue, sucking the whole thing into my mouth as hard as I can, and finishing with a swirl of my tongue – over and over. He didn’t let me go very long, however, before he was ordering me to fuck him.

I did my best to ride him hard. My eyes roll back in my head when I think of how good it felt. I felt on the verge of coming for so long. Mostly my eyes were closed, following the sensation, but my few glimpses of Harold showed him with his head tipped back, eyes screwed shut, and mouth wide open – silently screaming in ecstasy. I moved faster and faster, chasing my orgasm. Finally, I collapsed on his chest, panting and spasming. I thought that I was going to die. My heart beat fast in my throat and I gasped out endearments. Coming like that certainly convinces me that I will love him forever.

When I had regained my ability to breathe and articulate speech, Harold asked me if I would play with his ass. But of course my dear! I lubed up and slid a finger in. My other hand rubbed his cock. Almost immediately he started to leak – little drops of ejaculate pooled at the head and ran down his cock to form a river across my hand. I added another finger, reveling in the feeling of manipulating his pleasure.

I could stay there forever – rubbing his prostate and alternating between my mouth and my hand on his penis, milking him slowly, knowing that this feels blissful for him. It’s a good lesson for me, because I always worry that he will get bored fingering me. I need to believe that he loves to give me pleasure as much as I do for him. I need to give him a chance to give to me because that is also a pleasure.

We finally stopped due to hunger and exhaustion. I was starting to get a bit limp with oxytocin overload and lack of food. By the time we cleaned up and got lunch, we didn’t have the time or energy to do a bondage shoot. That’s the truth of it, I spent my day engaged in wild, spontaneous, passionate sex instead of getting you your photos. Well, you know what they say about the best laid people…

 

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