I’m just waking up, sitting in bed with coffee in hand, but I haven’t had a sip yet. He comes out of the office and stands at the foot of the bed, talking to me. I’m not really hearing what he’s saying. I’m watching his body language and wishing that he had woken me up with sex this morning. It’s not that I’m feeling sexy, really. I just want him close to me.
I tell him I want him and like a shot, he slips off his shoes and slides into bed with me. We fit together perfectly. I press tight against him and our mouths meet. It’s an explosion of sweetness in my heart. Our lips are soft together. A flurry of little kisses draw us closer. My hand follows the broad expanse of his chest. His tongue parts my lips and I open for him.
It feels incredible to kiss like this. I’m so present in the moment… lips pressed… mouth inviting… tongues exploring… breath shared… this is heaven. His fingers are cool against my skin as he rests his hand against my throat, gripping slightly. My heart races and my cunt spasms. I adore the feel of his hand on my neck. It turns me on, but I’m intent on making out.
I thrust my tongue deep into his mouth. He starts to moan a bit and his fingers follow my spine to the small of my back. He pulls me tight against his side while pressing his lips tighter to mine. His hand happens to be applying pressure to the bruises on my back that I acquired yesterday when we fucked on the floor of the office. I am thinking of that and how hot that spontaneous sex was while we kiss. We’re pretty good together.
I am floating in love and bliss as I nibble on his lips. I don’t think that I am interested in anything very sexual for the moment, but his hand wanders down to my crotch. He teases me, not actually hitting anything that would be just right. At first I wonder why he’s being obtuse, and then I realize that he’s doing it on purpose to get me riled up. All of a sudden I very much want him to bring me to orgasm.
He shifts and slides down my body so his face hovers over my vulva. I spread my legs for him. I want him to kiss these lips. He lowers his face, nuzzling into my furry cunt. My breath catches and my fingers trace the edges of my mouth as I lose myself to the sensations.
His fingers slide into me. Each thrust is exquisite and his tongue is sending heat up into my belly. My body rocks in time with his motions. I can feel myself getting close to orgasm, my cunt sucking at his fingers to try and bring him deeper inside. I want to draw it out, revel in the sensations, but it feels too good. I come hard around his hand, hips bucking and rolling. His hand cups my mound, letting me push out a few final spasms of pleasure against his palm.
We’ve made a mess. His hand is soaked and I’m lying in a big wet spot. I don’t care because I feel fantastic. We kiss again. I love him so much – and not just because he makes me come. I feel a little guilty that our love making is rather one sided this morning, but he reminds me of how I feel when I go down on him. I enjoy it immensely and laugh at the idea of it being one sided. I can see that it would be the same for him.
We kiss some more, then he goes downstairs to make breakfast. I sip my coffee. I gaze out the window, remembering the feel of his lips on mine. I love making out!
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I had my whole hand inside of her body. I keep thinking that. Last night I worked my whole hand into her cunt. It was so amazing. Fisting is incredible. I can’t get over how close I feel to her, even now. She’s so beautiful. I’m so lucky. I had my whole hand inside her.
She showed up last night after the children were asleep, bearing lambic and dark chocolate. I told her that I felt unworthy of her affection, having only Folgers and cheap sulfite-free wine to offer such a goddess. She kissed my doubts away. We curled up on the bed, talking and stroking exposed bits of flesh.
I love her eyes. And her wicked smile. She has many different smiles that say a multitude of things, but I especially like the one that lets me know that she has done something very clever and deliciously bad. Usually to my benefit. Then there’s her hands, her fingers lacing in and out of mine while we talk.
We caught up on the last couple of weeks and discussed our other relationships. It’s nice to share with each other about all of the love we have in our lives. We talked about sex. Then I pin her to the bed and ask what she can’t live without in sex. I imagine the things she might detail, perhaps oral sex or orgasms or pain, but I’m surprised when she answers: connection. OMG, I’m in love. Of course connection is why I have sex. I want to know someone through sex. I’m so in love.
We’re still new to each other. We are learning each other’s bodies and preferences. I wanted to go down on her in a major way, but I was nervous. I haven’t actually had a lot of practice at cunnilingus, especially recently. I got all shy and awkward telling her what I wanted, yet warning her that I’m fairly inexperienced. She looked baffled for a moment, as though unsure how to respond before reassuring me that that she wouldn’t judge me too harshly. It made me laugh.
Determined to give it a good go, I worked my way down her body, kissing, sucking, and biting. Her cunt is gorgeous. She has 3 rings through one side of her labia. It’s just perfectly right. I nuzzled around in her pubic hair, taking in her earthy scent. I thought about what I like in oral sex and tried to do the same on her. I took my time and explored. It turned me on. As things heated up, I found myself with my whole face buried in her cunt, licking with wild abandon, following her rhythms. After she came, I kissed her, everything a juicy mess.
Then I wanted to be inside her. The vagina is such a mysterious and amazing place. She is so hot. I slipped a couple of fingers in and worked up to my whole hand with lots of lube and erotic play. I found myself glad that I had trimmed and filed my nails and worried that it hadn’t been enough. Her body writhing and contracting around my hand filled me with intense awe. I was so grateful to her for allowing me in, for sharing herself with me. I wanted to fill her and surround her and melt through her.
I thought that she should go to sleep then, but that wicked grin showed up. My turn. She explored my cunt, letting me know that she thought I was beautiful. What she thinks matters a lot to me because of my abuse history and having given birth 5 times. I am not always comfortable with my body. I was absurdly touched by her gaze and her compliments. Then she did wicked things with her mouth.
I’m not exactly sure what she did. Her mouth latched on to my clit and she rode my bucking pelvis until I came, hard and fast. My new favorite thing is her eyes looking at me while the rest of her face is obscured by my pubic hair. Have I mentioned that I’m in love? Because as soon as I’d come, she rode the waves of that orgasm straight into the next. Then I held my beautiful girl in my arms and she looked very smug. Deservedly so.
There’s a certain satisfaction to snuggling down in bed, with the smell of sex everywhere and a naked woman pressed against me. I felt at peace in the darkness for the first time in a while. This morning we woke early so she could go to work. I allowed myself the luxury of falling back to sleep, smelling her scent on the sheets. I’ve got it bad.
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I’m floating in warm water, my limbs entwined in his. Above us are tree limbs and blue sky. Nearby the river cascades past with lots of spray and froth. The rushing noise it makes is a soothing soundtrack. His fingers glide across my bare flesh, covertly ending at my nipples. My desire ratchets up a notch. I look into his eyes, knowing that he sees my reaction to his touch. We’re hardly aware of the man next to us in the hot springs, but the intensity of our connection must make him uncomfortable because he gets out.
We let the hot springs relax us. We massage the knots out of each other’s shoulders. We talk and kiss, making love in a slow, unfocused manner. I want him in a way that reaches through my cunt, through my feet, deep into the rock of the cave we are in, as though we are making love for the earth itself. In full view of everyone at the hot springs, but not making a big deal of it, I knead his balls with my foot. I progress to rubbing his cock between my toes. Then I am leaning against him, caressing his dick with one hand while I bend over in front of him. He traces the lines of my vulva, feeling how slick I am there. I know that the caretaker is right behind us. The thought of him watching us turns me on even more. He politely moves past us.
I am getting off on how much we can do to each other with people all around. They can’t really tell what we are doing. We are quiet, but totally absorbed in each other. I suck at his lips and tongue, wanting his cock. He seems to understand because he suggests that I sit on the ledge so he can lick my pussy, but it feels too blatant. We talk some more and unwind some more. I’m thinking of going off into the woods to fuck. I want to be bent over and boned hard. I want his fingers to dig into my hips and my breasts to slap against my face. But it’s really cold. Finally all the other guests get ready to leave.
I am fantasizing about how we will have sex, when another woman shows up. She’s obviously in her own world, unconcerned with us. I think that we might go to the back of the cave to fuck, but he is too hot. We move down to a cooler pool. I am at that place beyond teasing that quickly becomes totally frustrated. I am near tears with wanting. It feels like I will never again have an orgasm. I float on my stomach next to him, while he rubs my clit. It feels amazing. I don’t come, but I am greatly reassured. I love him so much.
We move to a slightly warmer pool. I tell him to keep a look out and I put my head in his lap. I squeeze his balls and suck his cock. I so enjoy the sounds that he makes and the looks on his face that I manage to see. The warm water cradles us both as he stiffens in my mouth. His fingers reach around my ass to get to my slippery cunt. The danger of someone seeing us excites me. The strange woman is still in the cave.
We go down to the lower pool. He insists on pulling my pussy over to him so he can lick it. Seeing my thatch in his face looks beautiful and I wish I had my camera, but I’m not about to stop him. The other guest gets out for a moment then goes back up. We stop for that, but then I’m serious about fucking.
We come together in the water. Somehow I end up on top. The moment that he enters me is sheer bliss. I have been aching for this. I tighten all of my vaginal muscles to let him know I care. We move back and forth in the water, where movement is muted. The woman coughs loudly several times as though to tell us that she can see us, but I don’t care. It’s not obvious that we are having intercourse anyway. We are holding each other’s faces as we revel in the sensation and connection. I am in love, love, love.
And then the lubrication gives out. It still feels fantastic, but I can tell that it’s starting to chafe. It’s not worth going on. Fucking in the water is often problematic. We stop moving (mostly), but he stays inside me. It’s glorious. It feels like the center of everything.
Sadly, we need to go. I briefly consider the cabana, but we need to make our way back to civilization. Perhaps we can fuck in the car. Regardless, I am feeling relaxed and recharged. I look forward to the orgasms that are sure to come.
Many families get together over the holidays and snap a few photos. Our family is no exception, but we can boast that our family includes porn stars! Harold and I teamed up to take some photographs of the incomparable and totally adorably in love, Ned and Maggie Mayhem of meetthemayhems.com while they were here visiting.
It was fun to watch them together during the very active photo shoot. Ned and Maggie are both athletic and playful. There was wrestling and Ned doing pushups bearing Maggie’s weight. Their sense of humor permeates their interactions, but mostly what I see is love. There is nothing as sexy as people in love.
As though my libido were a light switch, my body was toggled on. I spent days in heat, every glance loaded with lust, every brush of flesh or fabric against my skin a direct line to my cunt, and always ready to fuck. I have some restraint. Normal life carries on. Family obligations must be met. Work needs doing. The trick is to bank the heat without letting it consume everything. Then, when the time is right, let it all flare up.
It’s not an easy thing for me, letting go. It doesn’t feel safe to be wildly sexual. What if I lose control and make terrible choices? I’m already a sexual person, but letting the heat of my lust make my choices is so taboo. I want the freedom of wanton desire, if I can do it safely. What if I just let go…
It’s morning. I stumble into my office wearing only a tank top and panties. Harold stands up to hug me. The hug becomes a passionate kiss. My hands caress his cock through his jeans. He gets hard. We continue to kiss as his hands roam from my breasts to my pussy. He rubs my clit and slides a finger or two inside me. I come, but it’s not enough. I bend over his desk chair and he frees his cock from the jeans zipper. We fuck, him pounding into me. We stop after a few minutes. I don’t want him to orgasm yet.
I shower, letting the water flow over me. I soap up, feeling the slipperiness across my arms, breasts, belly, and legs. When I am all clean, I switch the spray to the hardest setting and direct it to my nipples. That’s good, but I need more. I move the water to my pubic hair. The jet hits my clit and I jump. Within minutes, I’ve come again.
I’m getting dressed and I ask Harold whether I should wear pants or a skirt. I point out that if I wear a skirt, he could have easy access to my cunt. He says that if I wear a skirt, it better be short and I’d better not wear underwear. I put on the skirt, but I wear underwear too. We go about our day, teasing each other and enjoying the sensual pleasures. We kiss often. He makes another comment about my panties. I take them off on the spot and shove them in his pocket.
Harold and I cook. Although we have different tasks, we manage to intersect frequently. His hands dart under my skirt. I’m so turned on. Everything I do feels sexy. I feel loved and owned. It’s so slutty to wear this skirt without underwear. I feel dirty in the best possible way. It’s all good. I love Harold’s hands all over me.
We’re in bed. I know Harold is tired. I don’t want to bother him, but I am full of longing. I say something to him and he is instantly at my side. We are attracted like two magnets. We click together. He is all over me. His hands cover my neck and I arch my chest into him. I am so his. I love his nails down my back, fingertips on my collarbone, pressing my body into the bed. It’s not about orgasms, it’s all about sensation and desire. I’ve never wanted him so much. We make love in the darkness. Eventually, we fuck and we come.
The next day is much the same. We have hours together, in which we repeatedly come up to the edge and retreat again. He reads erotica to me as I lie on his chest, naked and turned on. The words come alive. He spanks me, makes me beg for each firm strike. We kiss long and slow. I get lost in that kiss. Harold rigs a harness to hold a dildo inside me, then puts a finger in my asshole and a vibrator against my clit until the orgasm explodes out of me. I return the favor, making him come with two fingers on his prostate. We spend the day pleasuring each other.
The next day I am less on fire. We make love in a sweet and lazy way in the shower. The intensity is gone. In it’s place is love and a sense of well being. I still feel sexy, but the heat is spent. It’s all warm and cozy, not flaming. We’ve ridden out the conflagration. I have what I’ve wanted. I’m learning to let go and let my lust drive. There’s a lot of joy in being in heat!
On this American holiday of Thanksgiving I am contemplating the many things I am grateful for. I am so blessed, especially with all of the love in my life. I never expected to have five children, two partners, and a metamour. I have a fantastic sex life. This morning I came twice in the first two hours I was awake! I have a job that I adore. I get to meet all kinds of fascinating people and create art.
That drive to create gets me in a lot of trouble. This morning, in an effort to teach myself Adobe Premiere Pro, I created a silly little video to share about the things I am grateful for. Enjoy your day!
I step forward, he steps back. We sway to the music, our hips pressed against each other. His eyes are closed. Our lips brush. His body spins away from me and back again. I show him what I want him to do with subtle cues from my body. He’s following my lead.
Joel and I go on a date every week. It’s our investment in our relationship, the time when we can catch up about everything going on in our lives, a chance to strengthen our connection and enjoy each other. We tend to be fairly traditional. Usually we go out to dinner. Sometimes we catch a movie. Sometimes we have sex. We always relax and have a good time, but occasionally I just have to mix it up a bit. Last night we went blues dancing.
The Center for Sex Positive Culture in Seattle was offering blues dancing after their monthly poly potluck. We opted for spending more family time at home rather than attend the potluck, but we were in for the dancing. It sounded like a great idea – a chance to go dancing among other people who understand that even though we’re together, we may be open to other people. Poly blues dancing seemed like an inexpensive, yet fun date.
It can be hard to get out of the house. I tend to feel ambivalent about going out. I’m tired at the end of the day. I get involved with projects at home, but I do love to go out. I like to get dressed up. Last night I was feeling kind of butch so it was a tank top, pinstripe pants, and combat boots. Then we had a 45 minute drive. It let us talk and sync up.
We arrived just in time for the beginner’s lesson on how to blues dance. Five couples circled up on the dance floor. We practiced stepping from side to side in a standard high-school shuffle. We danced forward and back. We were asked to find a partner. Easy enough since everyone had arrived as couples. Then we were told to figure out who was the lead and who was the follow. I appreciate that there was not an immediate gender assumption about who would lead.
There was a bit of a scuffle between Joel and me. I always want to lead when I dance. Joel didn’t feel comfortable leading because he’s very new to this kind of dancing. Yet there is the tradition of men leading. We realized that everyone was waiting for us to figure out our power dynamics and quickly settled on me leading. I placed my right hand on his shoulder blade and my left hand up “as though I was holding a beverage.” We practiced our shuffle.
Then our instructor told the follows to thank the leads and move to the right. Wait a minute, what? I greeted my new female partner and smirked at Joel in the arms of another man. We were certainly mixing things up. I learned a lot from the people I danced with. Each of them had good advice for how to be an effective lead. Joel also got a bunch of advice. While I felt a bit awkward at first, being a lead was turning out to be fun.
Blues dancing is sex-on-a-stick. I adore blues and watching people dance was hot. It felt good to dance too. You have to be in your body to blues dance. I could feel myself relax and open up to Joel. I loved leading him around the floor, firmly in control, yet letting the sexy flow.
The vibe followed us off the floor as well. Joel started rubbing my back and planting little kisses all over. The fantastic thing about being at the Center was that I could invite Joel into the back room, where we got naked. Joel kept telling me that I was the lead. It made me feel very much in control, which made me feel safe and turned me on. I’m such a top!
The blues music oozed through the walls. We kissed, slowly and passionately, our hands roaming all over each other’s skin. We floated in that place of pure sensuality. Eventually, I rolled him over and climbed on top of his face so he could lick my clit. I returned the favor by going down on him. Then I couldn’t stand it, I just wanted him. I told him to get on his knees. I rested my feet on his shoulders and he fucked me, cock plunging deep into me.
Afterward, we lay still, listening to the blues and softly talking. It’s such a luxury to be together like that. It’s a space that isn’t always easy for us to get to with all that we have going on in our lives. I love him so much and I feel so blessed to have him.
A chill in the air and a desire to use the bathroom got us back in our clothes. We danced to one more song then we made our way to the car. Exhausted and blissed out, it was all I could do to keep my eyes open on the drive home. Joel took care of everything and let me tumble directly into bed. I dreamed of him following my lead.
Book: “A Year of Sex”
Author: Mia Martina
Where to buy: Amazon Kindle, Barnes & Noble Nook, Apple iBooks, and Google Books
Mia Martina’s debut memoir is brilliant! I devoured the whole book in one rainy Sunday. I generally like reading about sex, but what really drew me in was her brutal honesty about herself, how appealing she is as a person. It’s easy to care about her ups and downs over the course of a year of sexploits and relationships because she seems real. Her voice is so authentic, I want to be her friend. It helps that I can totally identify with her experiences, but I’ve never read anything like this before.
Mia offers some of the best observations I’ve ever heard about sex parties. In her book she says, “Just because you can get naked and fuck doesn’t mean you’ll want to do it.” and “I’m learning that the unknowns about couples’ dynamics are the most interesting part of attending sex parties.” Both very true, in my experience. She does a great job of examining all aspects of a sex-positive lifestyle.
“A Year of Sex” is well written, which is a turn-on in itself. While the sexual content is fabulous and hot, Mia’s story it isn’t like typical erotica; it’s real life, where sex is seldom zipless or seamless. This story titillates, but is dedicated to authenticity, not getting you off (but don’t worry, there’s a happy ending). I even loved the bonus materials: a glossary of sex terms, tips for attending sex parties, music suggestions, and resources for further research. Like parting from a lover after a weekend of bliss, I’m left feeling turned on, emotionally engaged, and sated while yearning for more.
Sometimes you have to hunt happiness down and force it into submission. At least that’s what my day was about. This past week has been very challenging emotionally. I’ve worked hard to take care of myself. I got a pedicure, went to the spa to meditate, had a two hour long therapy session, spent long hours talking to my partners, played with my kids, ate and slept well, and got into a huge fight with Harold. And still, things were occasionally so bad that I considered every out. I hurt. I’m angry. Being angry makes me feel helpless. But none of these emotions is about anything that is happening now.
Right now, I want to feel close to my family. I want to experience joy. I want to make love. I’m doing all of the self-care, but spontaneously joyful moments elude me. So now, I have to muscle my way to happiness. It isn’t easy. But it is possible. I just have to grab hold of my bliss.
For example, yesterday was Harold’s birthday and I wanted to do something nice to surprise him. We had a date scheduled and we almost always spend our dates in the cabin he built. So I plotted and planned ahead and went to the cabin a couple of hours before we were scheduled to begin. I built a fire. I put out a tray with champagne, glasses, an assortment of Harold’s favorite pastries, and fruit. I put roses everywhere and covered the bed in rose petals. Then I scattered rose petals on the trail up to his house.
I was so excited to have him see my work. I felt bad about fighting the night before. I wanted him to see how much I care. I figured he would be there in about half an hour. I was about to head back to my house, when our teen daughter’s school called to say that she was sick. Damn. Harold was the closest parent to her location at that moment. Of course I want to take care of my kids, but I also wanted to surprise Harold. I realized that it would just put us back an hour and came to terms with that. Harold went off to pick up the girl.
I waited, impatient and miserable. It’s so difficult to feel bad and desperately want to feel good. I get very struggly. But I keep trying to fake it until it works. I thought a lot about the sex that Harold and I might have. I haven’t been very into penis-in-vagina sex recently, but I still like to come. I thought about some of the toys that I have to review. I watched it start to rain, and I thought about all of the rose petals on the path. I wondered if the wind was blowing them away. Finally Harold showed up. I put my daughter to bed, checked in with the nanny, and we were off.
I felt as nervous as I would on a first date. It was pouring rain. We decided to walk down to the cabin naked, on the principal that our clothes would stay dry. It was sort of a mutual dare. We walked past the first few petals and Harold didn’t say anything, but I smiled. A few more steps and he mumbled something about Melanie doing a project. Then he started to suspect something.
We got to the cabin and Harold opened the door. The warm air wrapped around us like a blanket. Harold’s eyes filled with wonder. It was like watching a 4-year-old on Christmas morning. His face at that moment is going to be my happy thought for a long time to come. Yes, some of the desserts were melty and the champagne had gotten warm and the roses had wilted a bit, but it didn’t matter. He was touched that I had gone to the trouble and I was delighted to make him happy.
The best part, of course, was making love. I’ve never rolled around on top of rose petals before. It’s nice. We talked and our joy melted away lingering tensions between us. We got to a place of surrender, just flesh on flesh, hearts open to each other. We fed each other delicious morsels and used champagne in oral sex. We kissed, slowly and sweetly, lingering in the depths of each other. When the time was right, I invited him in and we fucked. It felt divine.
As is our want, we continued to make love long after Harold had orgasmed. There is always so much more to do. So many sensations to experience. Kisses to place in little hollows. Skin to taste. Important topics to discuss. Love to share. And as always, our time was over too soon, but I think my plans worked. I’ve managed to make happiness my bitch. Well, for a while. I’m still feeling pretty good. Things are still emotionally challenging, but I have a secret weapon. I’m not afraid to chase my own happiness and I am loved. I hold that in my heart for all of the gray days.
I miss having a girlfriend. It’s been a year since I went to visit Erika in Hawaii. I haven’t been intimate with anyone female in that year. It’s been longer still since I had a regular girlfriend. I keep thinking about what it felt like to kiss girls a few nights ago. It’s so different from kissing boys.
I really love kissing. Girls are so soft. And some of them bite! And girls have yummy curves that I want to run my hands all over. They have breasts and smooth skin. I like the way that most girls smell. And some girls have cunts. I miss being able to stick my whole hand inside someone. I miss the joy of bringing someone to orgasm over and over until they can’t stand it. I like feeling my breasts pressed against another set of breasts. I want to twine my fingers in her hair and pull. I want to massage her back and ass. I want to take sexy photos. I want a fucking girlfriend!
I just haven’t been in the best place to start a new relationship. I have so little time as it is. I have 5 children and two life partners. What do I have to offer a girl? I have an abundance of love. I also have a fair amount of 
desire. I’m working through my emotional stuff. I’m actually pretty stable, but I’m coming out of a needy phase. Would I be a good grrrlfriend? I’m enthusiastic.
And how would I go about finding a girlfriend? Shop around on OKCupid? Start looking at my friends in a different light? I know a lot of attractive and wonderful people. It seems so much easier with boys. I can tell when boys are into me, but I have no idea with girls. When I was younger I just turned straight girls, but now I’ve gotten all careful and responsible. Maybe when I’m ready the right girl will appear and I will recognize her.
Is the time for a girlfriend soon? I’m full of longing. I kissed a girl.
