My Whole Sex Life

I like sex in all seasons, but I am especially gleeful when it is time to fuck outdoors again. This past week has seen a wide range of activity and temperature.

A week ago I woke up to it snowing. I spent a quiet morning in bed with my coffee, watching the flakes drift down and stick to the tree bows. That afternoon I made love with Harold in the cabin, by the blazing fire. I took him hard, pushing his limits, making him mine. I cuffed his wrists over his head and did terrible things to his balls. Bondage combined with cock-and-ball tease might be my favorite thing ever. I enjoy taking control and overwhelming him with sensation.

Only two days after it snowed, we fucked outside for the first time of the season. It was suddenly 75 degrees. I was reading on my little veranda and Harold came to talk to me. It was one of those situations where all of a sudden I was just turned on. The sun and fresh air swept us up and we had to be as close as possible.

At first Harold got me off and I thought that was going to be it. Sometimes we focus on one or the other of us – simply following what feels right. But this time I really wanted to fuck. I needed the primal connection between us. Harold took a little persuading, but I can be persuasive. I’m good with my mouth and my hands.

When he entered me, everything in the universe felt right. His cock hit just the perfect spot inside me, the sun was shining, the green leaves waved above me, and I could drink in his golden love like honey. Whatever else we have going on in our lives, we have moments like this.

And it got better! A couple of nights ago I had a beautiful group sex experience. It was incredible to be surrounded by people I trust who are all focused on my pleasure. I stopped taking care of everyone else and opened myself to being receptive. Six pairs of hands caressed me all over; lips brushed my flesh. When I asked for it, 60 fingers lightly scratched me from head to toe. I floated in pure bliss for what felt like forever.

It was a gorgeous night. We lay on cushions and blankets before the bonfire, looking up through leafy branches at the brilliant stars in the clear night sky. I was both sweaty and cold, naked under the blankets, limbs tangled on either side, full of love and lust. I felt Harold’s breath against my neck as I listened to people making love on either side. I watched Joel’s face as he gave himself to a woman I admire, respect, and care about very much. I am thankful for that moment of observation, when I realized that I was experiencing a perfect moment.

Like sunshine in Western Washington, sex is meant to be somewhat ephemeral. We get swept up and filled with joy. Sex should make us feel good, whatever we are into, and we can carry those good feelings into all the other areas of our lives. But by all means, fuck outdoors when you get a chance.

I got sexy new shoes for my birthday. I’m putting them to good use.

See what other people are up to this Sinful Sunday!

Anyone who thinks that being polyamorous means not feeling jealousy, is sadly mistaken. I don’t often feel jealous, but it does come up – and often not in the ways that I expect. I want my partners to be happy and fulfilled. I get off on them getting off even when it isn’t with me and even if they are doing things that I wouldn’t be into. But I do occasionally get jealous.

Harold and I did get a chance to play with Blyss and Holt. It was fantastic. I got to see a side of Blyss that I haven’t seen before, her very excellent Toppy side, as she took fantastic care of a totally adorable Holt. I got to admire how beautiful Holt is and run my fingers over his gorgeous skin. We got to explore CBT technique. I love teaching moments. Harold helped me come while I had a person on each nipple. Totally ecstatic. We spent hours in a casual sexual environment.

I felt very good about the whole thing – close to everyone, sexy, comfortable, happy. It wasn’t until I looked at the photos that I felt jealous. No, thinking back, I believe I felt jealous just after, but it manifested as a bout of extreme insecurity about being parted from Harold. See, Harold, to his dismay, is not very attracted to men. He would like to be more physically attracted to men. He’s had a bit of a crush on Holt since Blyss showed us pictures. I don’t mind that at all. I think it’s sweet.

I want Harold to explore every bit of his sexuality. Fuck every mountain, leave no stone unfucked, and all that. We’re good for each other like that. I’ve done my best to help Harold explore gender in the context of our sex play. I’m a very good man to his woman. It works. I was honored to help hold the space for him to explore with Holt. I know that the safety of having me there, the grounding of our relationship, made it possible for Harold to be comfortable making love with Holt.

At the time, I was so caught up in the energy that all I felt was the glory of the moment. Later I looked at the pictures. The lens didn’t capture how sweet it was for me to watch Harold. Nearly every shot has Harold looking at Holt with longing. No, that’s not true. That’s the jealousy talking.

My jealousy is two-fold. First, I am jealous because I don’t have a cock and balls and I never will. Harold wants something sexually that I can not provide. Realistically, I don’t expect to be everything for him, but emotionally I feel sad that there are places I cannot meet him. Second, I feel jealous because what I see in the photos is Harold pursuing Holt. Again, logically I know that Harold pursued me, but my lizard brain says that I had to stalk him.

Jealousy often comes up around something that I perceive as a lack, either a lack I can’t meet for my partner that someone else can, or an emotional lack in myself that I believe can’t be met. Paying attention to these feelings can be really helpful in working out areas that might otherwise become grounds for resentment in the relationship.

Talking to Harold about my jealousy is incredibly helpful. He doesn’t judge me for my emotions, but helps me see them for what they are. He’s very responsive which makes me feel loved and supported. It’s important too, because I’m realizing how I felt after the fact, to know that my feelings of jealousy don’t have anything to do with Blyss or Holt, or even Harold. These feelings are natural and normal. Even for poly folk.

I’ve been playing out little videos in my mind for weeks, imagining what might happen when my girlfriend, Blyss, has her boi, Holt, come to visit from out of town. I’ve never met him before, but I hear about him all the time. Blyss even shows me sexy pictures of him. We’ve said hi to each other over Skype. I think I’ll like him. I certainly am enjoying the fantasies of Harold and I having sex with them – maybe even Joel too.

I know the new boi likes cock-and-ball torture as much as Harold, so I’m drooling over the idea of having a cock in each hand and two sets of balls to squeeze. I’m visualizing the positions I will put them in, where I will place myself and Blyss. There is a heck of a lot you can do with four people who are all willing to be intimate together! It’s like a very grown up version of playing with dolls. I hope I get a chance to teach Blyss what I know about CBT. I hope I get to make the bois fuck each other in the ass. I want to dress them up in lingerie. I want to Top them all!

I have amused myself with these thoughts while I have driven the children around or while I did the laundry. It’s these kinds of happy thoughts that make life worth living. It doesn’t matter that it might never happen. That’s not the point of a fantasy. My fantasies prime my sexual pump, get me going. I think that there is power in imagining what you would like to have happen in a sexual context, but you have to be careful to stay flexible.

The map is not the territory. What I mean to say is, a fantasy is a good representation of sex potential, but actually being there having the experience is very different. There are things that will happen that you can’t anticipate. Chiefly, if you are having sex with other people, they will also have their own boundaries and expectations. I also find that sex works much better if I have a set of fantasy ideas, rather than a set script. That allows me to follow the energy of what feels right in the moment. My fantasies are mostly a good jumping off place to talk about what I might want t have happen.

I don’t even know if we will have an opportunity to get naked together. I hope so, but I know how things go sometimes. It’s important to me to develop something of a relationship with someone before I jump into fucking. Holt may be my girlfriend’s boyfriend, but that doesn’t mean that we will necessarily hit it off. Either way, I have some great wanking material happening in my head. And that may be the best use of a fantasy.

I love how life gives me so many opportunities to practice the things that I’m learning. Like how to listen to my emotions and communicate them during sex play. A few days ago I got the chance to stop a public sex scene in the middle when it wasn’t feeling right. I’m pretty proud of myself.

Harold and I were in San Francisco. I was excited to go to a sex club I hadn’t been to before to see how it was run. I like getting dressed up and thinking about the kinds of sexy things we might do. We brought some of our favorite toys with us just for the occasion. I went without panties, which pushes my boundaries a bit. I felt wicked and slutty, in a fabulous way.

I was also experiencing a headache from flying. Over the course of the afternoon and evening I tried a variety of medications, hoping to eradicate this headache. My migraine meds finally did the trick, but I think they interacted badly with some of the over the counter drugs in my system. I was pretty out of it – impaired in a drunk-like way. I almost decided not to go to the club, but in the end, I just went with it.

I’m glad we went. It was fun to dance and talk to people. There was a whole back room filled with naked fucking people. I adore the vibe of that, and the visual – a sea of writhing, groaning bodies taking their pleasure. Beautiful! I was totally having a good time. And then the dungeon room opened up!

I knew that this is where I wanted to be for the kinds of things I like to do to Harold. For some reason, ball torture tends to squick some people. We laid claim to a bondage chair, but sadly I had left all of my rope in Seattle. I just told him to stay put where I arranged him. I spread out my tools, slipped off my heels, and started to get to work on some CBT.

We play together often. I know Harold’s body and his responses. I know when to push him and when he needs more of something. What I enjoy most about our sexual connection is the exchange of energy. Playing in public is interesting and fun because anyone observing is also contributing their energy. I am an exhibitionist. I like to perform and I want to be watched. I was looking forward to displaying my skills and the endurance of my boi in a new venue.

I tied off his scrotum so his balls wouldn’t roll around. I ran my hands all over Harold’s body and gave him a few experimental slaps. I took his cock into my mouth. I was just sinking into the space I inhabit when I Top. I started giving his balls light taps. Generally, I expect the energy between us to slowly build when we play – for every one of my actions to incite Harold into a greater state of arousal, which then turns me on more, and I go a little further. This feedback loop wasn’t happening.

My internal voice said, “This isn’t working. We should stop.” Now, if someone was doing stuff to me and I thought this, I believe I would say something pretty quickly. As the top, I took several more breaths before I acknowledged the thought. Then I thought about the fact that I really wanted to have this scene and people were watching, before realizing that I needed to listen to that voice.

I wrapped my arms around Harold and told him how I was feeling, that things were not building like I expected them to, and that I thought we should stop. He was totally in the same spot. The energy was not building for him either. I decided to be proud of myself for following my hunch. We reconnected, cleared out of the dungeon, and went to join the mass of naked fucking people.

I’m not sure what wasn’t working for us. I suspect it has to do with me being slightly altered and not as present. I do not think that I will ever again try to Top when I am (even slightly) inebriated. I want to be entirely present and high on endorphins, if anything. It doesn’t actually matter what was going on. The fact that I stopped the scene in the middle because it felt wrong, is huge.

It’s been difficult to get in touch with that inside voice. Dealing with abuse in my life meant that I didn’t get to say yes or no, so it took some time for me to be able to hear myself. I’ve worked hard to be able to say yes when that’s what I want. I’ve learned to let myself have pleasure. Part of that journey was also learning to stop the action if it felt wrong for any reason. Now I’m getting to practice those skills as a top.

Everyone is responsible for safeguarding their own sexual experience. Trusting your own voice and your partners’ voices, especially in the middle of some intense sexual play, is vital. Yes, I’m a little disappointed not to have the experience I hoped for, but I have no doubt that if we had continued in the direction we were headed, it would have felt icky for both of us. I want our sex to feel intense and amazing, which means that every time, always, we need to listen to the inside voice.

Related posts:

• Fantasies
• Sometimes sex makes it all better
• Queers on vacation!
• Freak of the week
• The bondage chair
• First date

Labels get in the way sometimes. I’ve been asking myself if I’m a sadist or a masochist, as though there is a continuum with each term on either end. What I’m coming to understand is that sadism and masochism are separate things. It doesn’t have to be either/or, you can enjoy giving and receiving pain. Or neither. I’m not hung up on the labels, I just want to understand myself and be able to communicate my preferences to others.

I’m not much into pain. I don’t get off on feeling pain, but… sometimes pain is a very nice sensation in the midst of sexual play, like having my nipples pinched when I’m just about to come. The important thing is context – foreplay. I don’t like to be fucked dry and I don’t enjoy being slapped in the face over dinner, but if we work up to it and I’m in the right frame of mind, I would love to be fucked and slapped. Does that make me a masochist?

Maybe if we make a scale of masochism from 0 to 10, with 0 being no fucking way and 10 being I can’t get off without experiencing a lot of pain. Then I think I’m maybe a 2 or a 3.

If we have the same scale for sadism, with 0 being I would never hurt anyone and 10 being I whipped 3 people before breakfast, then I’m probably still a 2 or a 3. I was just starting to believe that maybe I was a bit of a sadist when I tried it out for real.

I was angry yesterday – one of those days where I just hate everyone and everything for no particular reason. I tried talking it out, first with Joel, then with Harold. I was feeling like having some rough sex and so was Harold, so I strung him up in leather cuffs. I tied up his balls and gave him a thorough work over. I started with some squeezing and light taps and steadily increased intensity until he was sagging in his cuffs.

This may seem like sadism on my part, but it’s not. No really. I love doing CBT (cock and ball torture) with Harold because he loves it. It turns me on to see him respond so much to something I am doing to his body. I like kissing him and blowing him for the same reason – he gets off on it. Harold’s obvious enjoyment gets me totally fucking wet. Am I sadistic if he likes it?

But I was feeling pissy. I thought that maybe I could work out some of my anger on Harold. For all that he loves to have his balls abused, he is not into cock torture. I decided that I would inflict a huge amount of pain on him by caning his penis, thereby assuaging my rage. I got his consent, making sure that he understood. He is a dear man and was willing to put himself in my hands for whatever I needed to do.

I was very nervous. That’s probably why I missed on the first stroke. I hit him on the chest. The chest is nowhere near the cock. I was mortified at how un-smooth my moves were. All of my anger kind of dissipated in my embarrassment and concern over the welt that was forming. Still, I gathered my resolve and tried again. This time I hit at the base of his cock, instantly forming a series of purple blood blisters. I was horrified. I actually hurt him!

This is why I say I am not a sadist. Causing pain makes me anxious, not horny. Unless of course, my partner is into pain, and then I’m totally there. I have liked pushing Harold’s boundaries, but only where it turned him on. Yes, I do amazingly painful things to his balls, but is it perceived as pain?

This is what it’s like in my head. I think about this kind of thing a lot, but it’s all just labels. In the end, the only thing that matters is what works for you and your partners. Examining my inner workings can be excruciating… and if I’m not a masochist (or a sadist), why am I torturing myself?

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I’m skeptical of reviews done by people who don’t have the proper equipment to evaluate the product – for example, me reviewing the JackStrap, a device meant to help people in possession of a cock and balls to get off. I do not biologically possess a set of cock and balls. But here’s the thing, I approach sex like science. When I’m testing out a new product, I’m collecting data. I always try something several times before I review it, collecting as much information as possible, and lucky for me, I have two guys – so I can get both of them to try a penis-oriented product.

Jack Strap was sent to me by Ntimate, the same company that made the ingenious FleshWrap. I am eager to try out everything they can come up with based on my experience of FleshWrap. But what does the JackStrap do? From their website, “This simple silicone strap loosely connects your balls to the fingers you wrap around your cock. So, every stroke of your cock now also tugs and bounces your nuts.” Is this a good thing?

I rely on my guys to give me good information about penis-oriented things, like jacking off and the things they might do on their own to get off. Joel and Harold both confessed that sometimes it feels good to get some ball-bouncing action going, which is what Jack Strap is all about. Harold enjoys rough play with his balls, Joel is extremely sensitive and generally doesn’t like me to touch his balls.

It was Joel that tried JackStrap first. It really is a simple silicone strap with loops at either end. We struggled for a while to get his balls into the round opening, but he felt very cautious about pulling his scrotum through. I wrote to the company saying that we couldn’t get him in it, even with lube. The CEO of Ntimate, Jack Campbell, emailed me back himself:

Hmmm… That’s odd, as the JackStrap is stretchy enough to go around a 16 oz. drinking glass.

The procedure is to put both sets of fingers (both hands) into the larger round hole and pull them apart, and stretch the bejesus out of the JackStrap opening. Pull your hand maybe 4-inches (100mm) or so apart, creating an opening much, much larger than the target scrotum. Then while holding it that way, put it over the balls, and slip your finger out.

The point is that you cannot hurt or break the JackStrap by tugging it WAYYY open. And, a delicate approach is not best. Be aggressive. Grab the thing, slip all your fingers into the hole, pull it apart between your hands like you’re trying to break it, and just yank it wide freaking open.”

I gotta love a CEO who gives that kind of advice! Unfortunately, Joel wouldn’t let me near his junk again with the JackStrap, so I had to try it on Harold.

Harold I can be quite rough with and he had no problems getting JackStrap over his balls. His problem with JackStrap is that, sadly, he is not hung like a porn star. His penis is of average size and the finger holes for JackStrap hit much higher than the place he would normally hold his cock for beating off. Having too much give in the strap means that there is no ball-bouncing. It just didn’t really work.

Both of my test subjects said that, while the concept of JackStrap is good, there’s not really a lot of point in purchasing an item to do what they’ve already worked out ways of doing when it feels like the thing. They demonstrated masturbation techniques that elicited results similar to what JackStrap purports to do. My guess is that most men who would be interested, already have their method as well.

My conclusion to this science experiment? Based on my sample of two, JackStrap is not the ingenious device that FleshWrap is. It’s probably not worth shelling out the bucks for. But I have to rave about the company. Ntimate is an up and coming name in the sex toy industry, creating innovative products for men. Their customer service rocks my socks and I can’t wait to see what they do next.

Bottom line: unless you are a porn star who wants to jiggle and bounce your balls, wait for Ntimate’s next big breakthrough.

Grade: C-

Related links:

• Review: My Hand
• Review: FleshWrap
• Review: Ophoria v-ring
• Review: Tenga Eggs
• A trampling table for me
• The bondage chair

FleshWrap, by Ntimate, has me more excited than any toy I’ve reviewed in the past year (except maybe the Mystic Wand). It’s difficult to explain, but the results are spectacular. It’s a “male pleasure system,” different from anything I’ve ever seen, and Harold and I have tried a lot of testicular experiments.

Don’t get me wrong, FleshWrap is not a CBT device. It’s like an oval made of hypoallergenic polycarbonate rod, bent into the shape of a taco. You massage and stretch the testicles until you can place the scrotum into the FleshWrap, with one end up against the perineum and the other resting against the balls. Then you carefully work the skin of the scrotum into the frame until you have enough room to insert a stainless-steel crossbar that holds everything in place. I know that sounds confusing, but it’s fairly easy in practice, and just takes a bit of time. Harold can do it faster by himself, but I think it’s more fun as part of our foreplay. I only worry that I might pinch him!

The result of wearing a FleshWrap is that the balls are pushed up toward the cock, while putting pressure on the perineum. It pulls the skin of the penis tighter, increasing hardness. It had an amazing effect on Harold. His erections while wearing this product have been incredible. We’ve even been able to fuck at times when he didn’t expect to be able to. His orgasms were improved because of the extra stimulation to his balls. It seemed to work especially well when I was on top.

Of course, we are into CBT, so we used FleshWrap to get up to some serious stuff. We usually tie off Harold’s balls for any kind of impact play. If he’s standing, I like to stretch his balls down. I love Fleshwrap when he is lying down because his balls are presented to me so perfectly. It also gives him a hard-on in an impressive way. I can smack his balls easily in this position. We also used FleshWrap as a platform for some needle play that was very successful.

Sadly, Fleshwrap does not fit all men. They say on their website that you have to be able to put your thumb and forefinger around the base of your scrotum after some massage and stretching. I know it also helps to be in a warm environment, but Joel was not able to fit into the FleshWrap no matter what. I hadn’t realized that there were such dramatic differences in scrotum type. Joel’s is more round, Harold’s more dangly. I was very disappointed not to get a second perspective.

I would mention that it’s easy to get confused about which way the FleshWrap goes. It can be frustrating to be trying to insert the crossbar and it not fitting no matter what you do, until you figure out that you’ve got the frame turned sideways. Two different sized frames come in the package, along with two different sized bars, and each bar can be used with either frame. While this gives you a fair amount of latitude for finding the best possible fit, we didn’t notice much difference no matter what the combination. The largest frame and smallest bar was the easiest to get into to.

I am so impressed with and excited by this device! I wish I could use it on both of my guys. I recommend Fleshwrap for everyone with a scrotum. Don’t be scared off if ball pain makes you cringe, because FleshWrap is NOT just a CBT toy, although it’s certainly an excellent starting point for CBT. I really love balls. I love to caress them and suck on them and squeeze them – and now I want to put them in a FleshWrap.

Bottom line: try out this brilliant scrotum device for intense pleasure!

Grade: A-

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• Coming outside the box
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It doesn’t snow in Seattle very often, so when it does, everything stops. Right now we have about a foot of snow. It turns everything magically beautiful. I love the snow. I like walking in the cold expanses of white, as though I am the first person in the world to tread there. I like the soft silence of snow falling and when a branch dumps it’s snowy load all at once in a cloud of white. I even like being naked in the snow, with my nipples hard and my skin alive with the touch of snowflakes. Snow days are a time for inner work, playing outside, drinking tea, and getting cozy with the ones you love.

Today Harold and I walked out into the woods to his cabin. We built a roaring fire and curled up to talk out all of the things going on in our lives. When it was nice and toasty, I slipped out of my clothes and ran around in the forest in only my boots. It makes me so happy. I feel really alive. It’s simultaneously like being in a fairy tale and experiencing intense sensual delight (but better than Anne Rice could tell it). This is the childlike wonder that I approach sex with.

And we did have sex. We went back to the cabin and warmed my chilled flesh. Harold wrapped his arms around me. His scent, that smell that is unique to him, filled me with desire. It’s just goes straight to my animal brain and I think, I know this man. I want him. I simply wanted to come right away. I asked him to use his mouth and his fingers, and later a few toys, to bring me to climax. As I orgasmed, I looked out the window at the gorgeous wintery weather, with the snow falling down. I felt more peaceful than I have in a long time. Then I looked in Harold’s eyes and took in all of the love I saw there. It makes me smile.

For days, I’ve been fantasizing about all of the wicked things I wanted to do to Harold. The snow gives the illusion that we have all the time in the world. We were insulated from the rest of the world – two children in a magical clubhouse. I suspended his balls from the ceiling and did wicked things to them. Amazingly enough, one of our leather wrist restraints fits perfectly around his scrotum! I attached clamps to his nipples and stuck things in his ass. Fellatio is one of my favorite things, so I spent extra time sucking his cock.

Then we reached that moment of decision. The point at which we lament he has but one orgasm to give at this juncture and we must debate the best method for him to spend it. I want him to jizz all over my face, but that didn’t seem quite as nice as both of us coming together. Love tends to win out big time. I just wanted to be as spiritually deep inside him as I could get, so I sat on top of him. I adore the feeling when his cock first fully slides into me. It’s amazing. I always have an “oh, there you are” kind of moment, like my body has been incomplete without him.

I twine my fingers into to his and begin to rock back and forth. His cock is rubbing against my g-spot. I alternate between gazing into his eyes and rolling my head back in ecstasy. I tend to lose my sense of self and just melt into him. Then I feel heat build all over my body. And I come. As soon as I start to orgasm, he is right there with me. We both scream and laugh and cry and hold each other. Today was like that.

I kept him inside me while I held him and cried. I do this sometimes. When I open up, things come out. Today I was just so relieved to feel how much Harold loves me. I think the snow can feel isolating as well.

We lay for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, as the sweat dried from our bodies and the snow glittered outside. Eventually, Harold coaxed another sweet orgasm from my cunt. I think each one gets better as we play longer. After, I really had to pee

I’m no stranger to peeing outside. I’m very proud at how adept I’ve gotten. Harold is quite delighted at how he’s corrupted me into being a wild grrrl who will squat in the dirt. But today it was snow and I didn’t want to squat down in a foot of snow. So I peed standing up! I’ve never done that before. It’s very satisfying. I’m not up to writing my name in the snow yet, but look out!

The fire was dying down and our time was running out. We put our clothes back on, gathered up our things, and set off back to civilization. The snow crunched under every step and we walked with all the magic of a snow day in our hearts. And satisfied smiles on our lips.

While Harold is gone for a few days, I am thinking a lot about him. I’m thinking about all of the really hot and sexy things we’ve done together and fantasizing about the things we haven’t done yet. The things that push us past our comfort, but turn us on like crazy. I want him so much. I want the things that scare us as well as all the lovely things that we enjoy together every time. I want everything. Today I am spinning a fantasy out of our desire, both tested and untried…

We are enjoying dinner together at our favorite restaurant. We’ve both dressed up a bit, as though for a special occasion. You’re laughing at something I’ve said. Your hand rests on top of mine. I look into your eyes and see how much you love me. I feel warm and happy. You smile and say, “I’m going to fuck you.”

I’m suddenly aware of the wetness between my legs. I press my palms against my legs. Through my napkin and my skirt I can feel my garter straps against my thighs. I want to touch my clit. I decide to go to the bathroom. You look at me with some amusement as I place my napkin on the table. “Bring me your panties,” you say, as though you know exactly what I’m thinking.

I’m a bit shocked, but also intrigued. I stand up carefully and step over to your side of the table. I bend to kiss you, aware that I am flashing the tops of my stockings to the gentlemen at the table behind us. It’s a long kiss, full of lust and tongue. After, I whisper in your ear, “You can have my panties, but only if you wear them.”

I sashay toward the restrooms. They are off a dim hallway, across from the abandoned coat-check. The ladies’ room is first and thankfully empty. I go in and lock the door. My hands run over my breasts and down my hips. I hike up my skirt and slide my fingers under my panties, finding my clitoris with my first two fingers. I lean against the door, breathing hard and thinking of how much I love you. My body is rigid, close to orgasm, when someone knocks on the door. Damn.

I quickly slide my underwear off and shove it in my purse. I smooth down my skirt. I flush the toilet for good measure. I wish that I were having an orgasm. I open the door. There’s no one there. Then I notice you back in the coats.

“You interrupted before I was done!” I accuse, but you don’t care. You press my back against the wall. Your hand holds the back of my neck, firm with your fingers in my hair. I want to argue, but I’m melting into you. I want you to kiss me so bad. But you don’t. Your other hand lightly traces my arm from bare shoulder to wrist. I’m pinned by your gaze. You cup my ass and pull me up against you. I can feel your erection. Finally you kiss me. I’m losing all sense of self. There is only this desire. And your tongue probing my mouth while you hold me tight.

You could fuck me right here and I would be happy, but I know that someone is bound to come by at any moment. Besides, I want to torment you some more. I grab hold of your balls through your slacks and squeeze. Your knees buckle a bit and you groan, but keep kissing me. I love you so incredibly much. I break off and push you back. “I have something for you Darling, “ I say as I pull my panties out of my purse, “Go put these on, I’ll take care of the check.”

You look at me for a moment, then take the lacy underwear and turn toward the men’s room. I’m waiting by the front door when you walk out. I wonder if anyone but me can tell that you are walking a little funny. I love knowing that you are secretly wearing my lingerie. I’m so turned on that each step to the car threatens to make me come.

Once in the car, you head for home. I’m quiet, thinking about who might get tied up when we get there. You put your hand on my knee, but it wanders up my thigh to my cunt. Soon my skirt is pulled up and once we’re on the freeway, your fingers are either buried in my cunt or rubbing my clit. I lean the seat back and let go. Soon I am moaning in pleasure as I finally find release, rocking against your hand. I watch as you lick your fingers.

Of course I’m going to return the favor. I unzip your pants and slip my hand inside, running my fingers over the hardness of your erection under the lace of my panties. I pull your cock out and pump up and down a few times, liking your reaction. I lean over and put my head in your lap. I lick the head of your cock, favoring the sensitive frenulum. Then I slowly take the whole thing in my mouth, as deep as it will go. I hope that you can still focus on driving, but I don’t want to wait until we get home.

I am focused on giving you the best blowjob ever, so I don’t notice at first that we are slowing down. When I pop my head up to see what’s going on, I’m not sure where we are. It appears to be a deserted dead-end road with a park. There’s only one streetlight, but the moon is full and bright. You drive to the end and park the car.

I think that we might just fuck here in the car, but you tell me to get out. You come around to my side of the car and carefully remove my heels, stockings, and garter belt. You kiss me again, deeply. “Now run,” you say.

I’m confused. Run? You nod toward the park and start to remove your own shoes. I laugh, perhaps with an edge of hysteria, and start to half-heartedly jog. After 20 paces I stop and look back. You are just removing your pants. I see you start after me and I run more seriously.

I race across the grass, dodging branches and ferns. I feel my limbs go liquid, so that I seem to be gliding across the ground. I feel animal. I am chased. I love it. You are a beast come to take me. I run deeper into the brush.

I’m not sure how you manage it, but you circle to the side and surprise me. You leap onto me, taking me down. We roll together, landing in a pile of leaves. You are on me instantly, flipping me face down and plunging your cock into me. We are both grunting and howling. I exist only for the thrill of each thrust, for the rhythm of our mating.

I feel you so deeply and intimately. I can tell your orgasm is building to match mine. We get closer and closer with each thrust. You are fucking me so hard. I love how wild and savage we are. Suddenly your yell fills the night and I am coming with you. We are rocking together with the fierce joy of the moment and declaring our passion for the world to hear. We have claimed each other and been taken.

We murmur soft lover’s words to each other as we pick leaves from our hair, animal grooming for animals in love. Slowly we find our feet again and make our way back to the car, arms wound around each other. We put our clothes back on, grinning at each other foolishly. We climb into the car and I think again about who gets tied up when we get home.