Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Sex Drive in High Gear
I've always been a big fan of driving. Long roadtrips (or short ones) provide ample time for music, musing, and if you're lucky, great conversation. If you are extra lucky, like me, you might even get a sexual thrill out of it...
I've had countless orgasms behind the wheel - in at least three states! It's a great way to sneak a little exhibitionistic thrill; Anyone driving by could figure out what you're up to, if you let them. On the flip side, it's fun to see all the cars full of utterly unsuspecting people drive by. None of them realize that they are mere feet away from a throbbing, dripping cunt on the brink of its next orgasm!
I'm quite good at maintaining my actual driving - even while Master's expert fingers coax out as many orgasms as he cares to give me. But sometimes the occasion calls for a pause longer than a red light. I've had Master instruct me to pull into a rest area so he could bring me off amid all the other parked cars. I was so nervous that we would be discovered, as it was afternoon and there were others about. But we were not. And then, before I knew it, we were back on the road as if nothing had ever happened.
We had a similar experience in a grocery store parking lot. An afternoon drink on a semi-secluded patio, a miniskirt, some dirty conversation, and Master's sexy touches on my bare thighs had me dripping wet and aching for more. Fortunately, he decided the grocery shopping could wait a few minutes. He rubbed my throbbing pussy until I had a few really intense orgasms. After all that, I could hardly concentrate on shopping!
And let's not forget how nice it feels for a girl to drive in a pair of tight jeans! Particularly when I'm already in an aroused state of mind, the pressure of that denim seam right down the middle of my cunt can be downright maddening. And still, no one else on the road would ever expect that the girl in the next lane is building up a frenzy for a good orgasm!
One thrill I've yet to accomplish is giving head while Master is driving, though it's always sounded like such fun. I'll keep you posted when that one finally occurs!
Learning to Love Anal: New Year's Resolution
So... anal sex. For so long it was my Achilles heel, but I am finally going to conquer it in 2013!
For years I've viewed it with a sense of fear, most likely a carryover from the couple of times in the past that it was painful/uncomfortable. My poor husband, who absolutely loves fucking my little asshole, has been so patient with me. And now I aim to give him his reward.
Yes, among the typical fitness and financial pledges, I've made a commitment to get good, really good, at anal sex.
Master helped me out by surprising me with a pretty purple butt plug, a small one, just in time for New Year's Eve. After we'd inserted the plug, he fucked my pussy while it was in. Although the plug is much smaller than your typical dick, it still gave me a glimpse into how DPing porn stars must feel!
When he had his fill of my snug little pussy, Master was ready to take my ass.
I lay on my belly (the only anal position I'd had any success with in the past), took a deep breath, and felt his thick, hard cock slowly sliding in. I let myself relax completely as he slipped deeper and deeper inside. He started fucking, and I let out a little gasp. It felt so intense, and yet not unpleasant at all.
I'm not yet able to cum from anal alone. But I'll get there (I hope)! So, Master reached down and rubbed my clit as he pumped his cock deeper and deeper. The intensity of orgasm while my tightest hole is stuffed full always comes as a bit of a shock. I think this is where it often starts to get way too intense to continue and I tell Master that he needs to finish soon!
And finish he did, dropping a huge load of warm, creamy cum in my hole.
I always feel a sense of pride whenever I've "made it through" and pleased Master in this way. This time was no different. I smiled up at him like a pet in need of a pat on the head. The look on his face after a really good orgasm is unmistakable.
"That wasn't even bad at all..." I said, coyly. "In fact, it was kind of good..."
And it's going to get better this year! Just wait and see. I will be sure to keep you updated on all of our anal adventures!
For years I've viewed it with a sense of fear, most likely a carryover from the couple of times in the past that it was painful/uncomfortable. My poor husband, who absolutely loves fucking my little asshole, has been so patient with me. And now I aim to give him his reward.
Yes, among the typical fitness and financial pledges, I've made a commitment to get good, really good, at anal sex.
Master helped me out by surprising me with a pretty purple butt plug, a small one, just in time for New Year's Eve. After we'd inserted the plug, he fucked my pussy while it was in. Although the plug is much smaller than your typical dick, it still gave me a glimpse into how DPing porn stars must feel!
When he had his fill of my snug little pussy, Master was ready to take my ass.
I lay on my belly (the only anal position I'd had any success with in the past), took a deep breath, and felt his thick, hard cock slowly sliding in. I let myself relax completely as he slipped deeper and deeper inside. He started fucking, and I let out a little gasp. It felt so intense, and yet not unpleasant at all.
I'm not yet able to cum from anal alone. But I'll get there (I hope)! So, Master reached down and rubbed my clit as he pumped his cock deeper and deeper. The intensity of orgasm while my tightest hole is stuffed full always comes as a bit of a shock. I think this is where it often starts to get way too intense to continue and I tell Master that he needs to finish soon!
And finish he did, dropping a huge load of warm, creamy cum in my hole.
I always feel a sense of pride whenever I've "made it through" and pleased Master in this way. This time was no different. I smiled up at him like a pet in need of a pat on the head. The look on his face after a really good orgasm is unmistakable.
"That wasn't even bad at all..." I said, coyly. "In fact, it was kind of good..."
And it's going to get better this year! Just wait and see. I will be sure to keep you updated on all of our anal adventures!
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
On Writing... About Sex
I've heard that writing about what you know and love is the key to writing well. I am not sure if that is entirely true - at least for me!
I love to write, and yet I feel I perfected my craft on emo poetry in my teenage years. So now, when I try to write about things that make me happy, the absence of blood-drops and icy tears tends to throw me off. My attempts at happy poetry (almost!) always feel so clumsy and cloying.
Yet... despite all that, my exhibitionist's heart can't resist the opportunity to share my sexcapades with the world. So into happy territory I plunge.
Thank you for coming along for the ride!
I love to write, and yet I feel I perfected my craft on emo poetry in my teenage years. So now, when I try to write about things that make me happy, the absence of blood-drops and icy tears tends to throw me off. My attempts at happy poetry (almost!) always feel so clumsy and cloying.
Yet... despite all that, my exhibitionist's heart can't resist the opportunity to share my sexcapades with the world. So into happy territory I plunge.
Thank you for coming along for the ride!
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Captivity
Frantically fighting the ominous darkness,
Watching the tiny sun steadily flee...
Demons are hiding - some of them mine -
Behind the darkening shadows.
Trying to hide behind pillars, myself,
I am always unwittingly on display
In a cage of mesh and metal,
Unable to see who is watching.
Longing to once again sink into plush,
And leather, and metal, and warm white wax.
To gratefully beg on my knees -
Bring it all back - insouciant summer,
Sweat dripping determined down my back,
Arms held outstretched for I know I now can fly.
And fly, little dove, I do.
But in those chilly winter gusts I have no choice but captivity.
Draw tightly the shades and resign myself
To a tiny snowglobe world- "Cell two hundred and ten"
Walking outside, an invisible leash -
The most delicate ropework of fear -
Keeps me unable to stray and unwilling to try.
Inside, sometimes those walls
Posses a sense of dread.
They feel like they are closing in -
Suffocating in low light.
Grip around my throat so tightly
If I move I might just black out
And then come back to, in a flurry of hysterical tears.
Dreams of reading "Heathcliff" and "Earnshaw"
Scrawled in morning dew on the walls...
The beautiful siren I await
Arrives in a vision of repression turned to evil.
A hideous sight - and I tremble awake.
Mummified in Egyptian cotton,
The grip of flesh keeps me grounded,
He holds me down where I know I am safe.
I hate the reasons to live hidden away
As I hate to dream of walking in hallways alone,
Yet once I am in it, sufficiently barricaded,
I can breathe a little more.
Freedom can live within my cell walls,
As long as I remain obedient
To the rules of this delicate game.
I am the prey, this is understood.
But in this particular captivity
I am kept safe from the evil snakes
That quietly pass us by each day,
Whispering in hisses that this game is not over yet.
Caress my bound hands and tell me "It all was only a dream"
And in this calming room I could
Relax enough that my wrists
Are at one with the fear and desire for safety
That marked my skin so red.
And it could become a part of me
Enough that still I could find
Some content in captivity.
Watching the tiny sun steadily flee...
Demons are hiding - some of them mine -
Behind the darkening shadows.
Trying to hide behind pillars, myself,
I am always unwittingly on display
In a cage of mesh and metal,
Unable to see who is watching.
Longing to once again sink into plush,
And leather, and metal, and warm white wax.
To gratefully beg on my knees -
Bring it all back - insouciant summer,
Sweat dripping determined down my back,
Arms held outstretched for I know I now can fly.
And fly, little dove, I do.
But in those chilly winter gusts I have no choice but captivity.
Draw tightly the shades and resign myself
To a tiny snowglobe world- "Cell two hundred and ten"
Walking outside, an invisible leash -
The most delicate ropework of fear -
Keeps me unable to stray and unwilling to try.
Inside, sometimes those walls
Posses a sense of dread.
They feel like they are closing in -
Suffocating in low light.
Grip around my throat so tightly
If I move I might just black out
And then come back to, in a flurry of hysterical tears.
Dreams of reading "Heathcliff" and "Earnshaw"
Scrawled in morning dew on the walls...
The beautiful siren I await
Arrives in a vision of repression turned to evil.
A hideous sight - and I tremble awake.
Mummified in Egyptian cotton,
The grip of flesh keeps me grounded,
He holds me down where I know I am safe.
I hate the reasons to live hidden away
As I hate to dream of walking in hallways alone,
Yet once I am in it, sufficiently barricaded,
I can breathe a little more.
Freedom can live within my cell walls,
As long as I remain obedient
To the rules of this delicate game.
I am the prey, this is understood.
But in this particular captivity
I am kept safe from the evil snakes
That quietly pass us by each day,
Whispering in hisses that this game is not over yet.
Caress my bound hands and tell me "It all was only a dream"
And in this calming room I could
Relax enough that my wrists
Are at one with the fear and desire for safety
That marked my skin so red.
And it could become a part of me
Enough that still I could find
Some content in captivity.
Labels:
bondage,
breath play,
candle wax,
display,
leash,
poetry,
ropes,
slavery,
submission,
symbols
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