♦ Here’s another of my fantasies from when my relationship with Fractal was dealing with a separation of several continents and countries. I don’t much get to be in charge these days, perhaps I’ll get around to that some time soon, but Fractal does still love the idea of me as his teacher, even if that is normally so he can take charge half way through ;)

This time, though, he’s all mine… ♦

♦ Recently you were decidedly naughty, teasing me into submission with my desire for you, and I have decided that the time is right to exact my sweet revenge. I enter my room from taking a shower, wearing nothing but wrapped in a towel. You raise your head from where you are sat and the wicked fire in your eyes shows that your wilfully teasing streak of late has still not subsided. You smile coyly, slowly licking your lips as you come towards me and kiss me passionately, your arms wrapping my body. You pull back and notice a stern look in my eyes.

“Turn around” I command, and you oblige. You stand there for some minutes, your mind racing as to what I could be about to do, your ears pick up only the slight susurration of fabric. You stand for some minutes, every second wondering when I will act, the anticipation and the unknowing driving you crazy. You feel a firm hand on your shoulder then, turning you back around to face me. I am dressed strictly, my hair tied back, my glasses perched sternly, wearing an above-the-knee skirt over what seem to be exotic stockings, and a white shirt, thin enough to show just a suggestion of my nipples. I circle you once, seeming to appraise you, undress you with my eyes.

“You have been very dirty,” I say sternly, drawing closer “you have been a very bad boy.” My body is now pressed against yours, my hand stroking your crotch area as I say “You have been letting your lusts command you. But now you will follow my commands. To the letter. Or it will go so much the harder with you. Am I understood?”. You answer yes, but I am not satisfied, “you will address me as ‘mistress’”. You reply again, this time correctly.

“You need to be taught a lesson, boy,” I say, “and I will be your teacher.” I hand you a little book where our fantasies have been written and then move to sit on the bed. “Read to me, and read well.” You reply with “yes, mistress” and begin to read from the book. As you are doing this you see me undo the first few buttons of my shirt and pull up my skirt slightly, as you realise I am wearing no underwear.

One of my hands starts to caress my nipple as you read me your passionate words, the other moves slowly as I masturbate, my eyes half closed as I listen. You continue to read and are finding it harder to pay attention to the words as I writhe, small moans escaping my lips as you finish the fantasy.

I lower my skirt, but leave my shirt half-open as I stand and shake my head firmly. “Your diction is terrible, you haven’t been doing your homework, filthy boy. Your lusts are interfering and your sinful ways must be corrected. Lower your trousers a little and come over here.” When you have done so I pull out from a drawer a tie and bind your hands behind you, telling you to lean over the desk, though leaving both your behind and your sex accessible.

“I think a private lesson is in order. You are running out of chances. Please me, or face the consequences.” I explain to you that I will give you a task: you must repeat over and over a simple tongue twister until I deem you to be satisfactory. However it will not be as easy as all that. For every perceived imperfection I will punish you, striking your behind firmly with the thin cane-like object I now pull from the drawer. You start to say the phrase, and for the first couple of cycles all is going well, until I move my hand round and take hold of your sex, starting to stroke and caress it. You begin to make tiny mistakes, and each time you do I bring the cane down on your buttocks, swiftly so that the feeling is an intense mix of extreme pleasure and a sharp sting.

You struggle on valiantly but my attentions to your genitals become more focused and after a moment, I turn you away from the desk, kneel before you and start to flick my tongue along the length and tip of your sex. Soon the punishments are coming frequently as you are too busy shuddering in pleasure as I kiss and nibble gently, switching now and then to passionate sucks and strokes of my tongue. This continues until you are almost ready to climax, when I halt, and command you to do the same.

I rise, drop the cane and stroke your behind for a moment, before giving it one last sting, this time by hand. “You disappoint me. Such a very dirty, filthy boy like you does not deserve such pleasure. Why should I continue to indulge you, when even such punishments will not tame you?” I start to move away and you drop to your knees, begging. “Please, mistress, one more chance. I beg you.”

I turn back, smiling wickedly, and you know now as I untie you that I never had any intention to end things yet. “Perhaps there is one way yet that you can regain my favour. Take off your clothes.” You do so, and I command you to lie on the bed. I remove my skirt, but leave my other clothes on. I straddle you then, my warm, moist sex against your hard one. I grind you for a moment and then let you enter me. Holding your arms down I writhe on top of you, pleasuring you with my movements, until you are again close to orgasm. As you approach it I slow, and do this several times, forbidding you to come. “You are an irredeemably naughty boy. You cannot be tamed. You must be punished often. And I like it that way.” I confess. As I say this, my motions become more intense as I finally allow you to climax.

As we move together, at the height of orgasm I bite you roughly on the neck, leaving a red mark. We lie exhausted then and I tell you “You take your punishment well. You are a good student after all. And you are mine.” ♦

♦ Fractal’s previous entries are: ‘X’, Sexy-Grr!, Summer Shower, Tomboy, Devil Girl and Whip.

Mine are: Punishment in Black, Doctors and Nurses, Tease, Quick Seduction and Honey ♦

♦ Life has been very busy and very full. I’ve plenty to write about and no time to write it. Huzzah! Oh wait. That other thing. Not huzzah.

In any case I did a Hallowe’en picture post last year so I may as well go for it again. Perhaps soon I’ll have five minutes and some energy to put aside for a proper proper post. ♦

♦ I turned over onto my front, my bare bottom arched slightly up as I lay, all but naked, on our bed. The room was a little cold and my skin a little chilled; goosebumps were scattered across my thighs. Fractal knelt next to me, admiring the leather jacket that was the only thing keeping me from shivering.

It felt good on. Another bargain from another charity shop: tight, shapely and tough, with smooth lines that encased my flesh, hugging and slightly restraining me.

I wiggled my hips out at Fractal provocatively and he reached for the matte can of massage mousse. It had been a long day for me anyway and relaxation was in order. A perfect opportunity to try out the Play Massage Mousse that Durex had sent me.

Sssssshhht!

The mousse squirted easily onto my skin with that soft, rustly, slurping noise so familiar to such spray cans. It was cold, but not shockingly so. A pleasant, ‘ooh’ sort of chill. I wriggled against the bed and Fractal started to smooth out the foamy, creamy mixture over my ass.

That felt very nice.

It wasn’t the most instantly erotic feeling in the world, but it felt very pleasant, relaxing and intimate. He massaged the mousse carefully and thoroughly, making sure to revisit his favourite areas, the foam making a sort of tchss-tchss noise as it spread. It sounded a fair bit silly, to be honest, and I couldn’t stop giggling.

Luckily, the mousse slowly calmed down into a liquid halfway between lube and massage oil. This was very soon spread down between my legs and into my pussy as my giggles turned to groans.

The spanks came quickly, though I can’t say whether or not the mousse made any difference to their intensity. I cried out as Fractal hit harder and faster, before letting my shudders overcome me.

So far, the mousse was doing fairly well. It wasn’t stupid-hot but it felt lovely, had a fun texture and smelt pleasant but not too strong.

The problem came when I followed my liberal use of it on Fractal’s cock, which he thoroughly enjoyed, with a little over-enthusiastic cocksucking.

Yech!

It tastes fucking awful. I mean just really, really bad. All cloying and chemical, like washing your mouth out with soap. Icky icky icky. And very, very off-putting.

I gave up on the cocksucking rather quickly, spluttering to get the taste of it out of my mouth. A bit of a mood killer, that. Nonetheless we carried on valiantly, Fractal easing me back onto the bed and slipping his still-moussed sex inside my own well-lubricated one.

At least, I say well-lubricated. Unfortunately in this case, that was pretty much all my doing. The supposed lubricant qualities of this 2-in-1 massage mousse and lube were almost nowhere to be seen. Put it this way, if you’re the kind of person who needs lube, you won’t get anything out of this. And frankly even as an ‘added bonus’ it doesn’t add much: too light and dries too quickly.

Don’t even think about using this for anal. Seriously.

Durex Play Massage Mousse is a fun product, sure. It’s squirty, flirty, it chills slightly and smells like any good beauty product might. It could be good in a play-fight, that’s for sure, but squirty cream still wins out there, because at least then you get to lick it off.

It tastes horrible, it sucks as a lubricant and it’s perhaps a mite too silly to be sexy. On the plus side, it’s different to your average sex product and the packaging doesn’t scream sex, if you consider this a pro. Which I don’t, though hardly a con.

The bottom line? Fun, relaxing and brilliant for a romantic, calming massage or a bit of a giggle. If you’re on the vanilla side of things it’s a fairly unintimidating place to start, as it is easily passed off as a beauty product and is not so risqué that it might threaten. However, it’s no good for people looking for a serious lube or wanting to anything too ‘adventurous’ (like, shock horror, blowjobs).

It really is just a slightly unusual massage lotion, I’m afraid. And for over six quid, not worth my money, personally. But not perhaps worth a look for a couple beginning to explore new ideas. ♦

“A dress has no meaning unless it makes a man want to take it off.”

François Sagan

I was having trouble finding a decent pair of knickers to put under my skirt last week, so I didn’t wear any.

I pushed my bare toes into the soft, nude nylon of my tights and wriggled the delicate material up my calf carefully. I’ve taken to cutting my now long nails sharply recently, but that’s a tale for another time. All the better to claw you with, my dear.

I shimmied the tights up first one thigh, then the other. The gauzy, clingy fabric hugged my pussy as I let top snap back against my waist. The slight, healing nicks on my flanks, trophies from sexually-charged scuffles, reminded me of their presence by complaining petulantly of the friction.

They loved it really. I knew I did.

My hands teased the fresh skirt over my hips; the glossy lining was cool against my slowly heating flesh. The skirt was just long enough for comfort and just short enough to thrill. The back slit seemed to wink dangerously at me in the mirror.

As I left the house that morning, I felt the morning air wisp around my legs and the chill of the new day was no match for the heat rising up in my sex. It felt exciting. My own little secret, but with the slight hint of a fear/thrill that maybe, just maybe, everyone knew my dirty little shame.

The tingles as I walked to my bus were like those of going to meet a new lover for a brief afternoon of hot passion and hysterical paroxysms.

I chose my seat carefully.

Just above the wheel arch, where the vibrations whilst idling are best.

The hum of the engine felt extra sharp to my senses.

I spent the day wonderfully tensed up. Every swish of my skirt against my tights reminded me that I was bare underneath. Every breeze as a door swung shut reached up inappropriately to caress my naked sex.

Inappropriately… Something delicious about that word. Something delicious about the hidden lust caused by the hidden sin.

I thought dark, warm, silky thoughts on the way home. The day had been too long, but hardly dull. I was going home to my Fractal, who’d spent the whole day wondering whether I’d gone through with my plan. No peeking, honey, I’m getting dressed. You’ll have to guess.

As he turned me over on the bed not long after I arrived home, he got his answer. He’d suspected nothing less. But then, what fun would life be if we all played by the rules?

Soon I was handcuffed to the bedframe, legs spread wide with a metal bar. My nipples used as pseudo-reins as he pumped into me.

A simple omission of a garment. Oh, the fun it can provide.

Of course, the next time I let myself go commando, Fractal will be working alongside me. I wonder what new twist to the tale that will lend…

♦ I’m all for learning as much as I can fill my brain with on the finer techniques of sex, as you know. I yearn for new tricks and tips, enhanced sensations, recommended oils and lotions.

‘Tis good practice and I learned it from the best.

Fractal gave me copies of several of Anne Hooper’s books in the very early days of our relationship. He’d studied them in anticipation (and, to be frank, there’s something very hot about that very idea). I soon learnt the value of those lessons.

So, as I say, I don’t just leave sex to look after itself. Making an effort is important.

That said, some of the best sex I’ve ever had is so… unpracticed. Unrefined.

Last night I was feeling lurgified and went to bed early. Fractal came with me to settle me to sleep; fanciful thinking, as it turned out, when he told me that it was shame I was tired. He’d planned to surprise me with one of my favourite things. The jeans he wore touched bare skin. No pesky underwear in between. Just hard denim and soft skin, with the slow but sure addition of hard arousal as I told him he should spank me for troubling him.

The smacks came hard and fast. He’s become used to my tolerance for pain and these days has less qualms about providing it. He straddled my back, facing my bare behind. His jeans pressed into me. I moaned as he continued to strike, over and over.

When he’d sorely punished my ass he relented finally and dismounted, moving to lie next to me, spooning me.

His erection felt sublime through the rough fabric.

It wasn’t long before the fabric was no longer in the way.

I rubbed my ass back against his soft-skinned cock.

He slid it in between my cheeks.

I angled myself so that he slipped slowly, excruciatingly into me.

The sex was fraught, frantic. We needed each other. He felt amazing as he thrust into my helplessly wriggling body. I’m not sure how ‘orthodox’ a position this is, but it soon got less so. Twists and turns of our bodies as we desperately, clawingly sought better angles meant that we were a tangle of limbs and lust.

He breathed heavily as I gasped and we both grew closer and closer to climax. I raced ahead, as usual, greedy to get more than my fair share.

There’s something wonderful about that jumble of flesh. I love the way we’re happy to ignore the aesthetics of it and pant and flail and manoeuvre into whichever odd positions increase the sensations. Sort of organic sex, or at least the kind of organic there was before hippies stole the word.

My legs were wrapped around his, my body almost perpendicular to his. He had a warm hand on my breast whilst mine was behind his head, fingers plunged into his thick hair.

His cock was rigid, rampant, driving like a piston into me.

I moaned into another orgasm as he joined me in the crescendo, his come spilling out and up into me before soaking the base of his sex and the nexus where our two bodies made their pleasure.

Unpracticed. Unrefined. Unforgettable. ♦

♦ Okay, look, I can explain. I really can. I just can’t promise it’ll be very satisfying.

I know I’ve been bad.

I know that there’s a decent-sized handful of you out there who can have rather….strict views on bad behaviour.

But forgive me?

Don’t look at me that way, or you might make this fun. You don’t want to encourage me to be naughty, so be nice.

The last thing I need at the moment is yet another reason to suck at blogging :)

All right, I know. It’s sub-par. No updates in over two weeks. It’s not my fault. The geek side of me has been rather pushing its way to the front of the queue lately. Time is sparse and I’ve been filling what there is of it with roleplaying and board games and geek friends and Left 4 Dead and Only Connect.

Blame the geekery.

Please?

…

I can make it up to you.

I can.

Okay, I know, geekery has taken me away from blogging and I haven’t the time to write anything more in-depth tonight but how about I repay you with something?

Hmm, I’ve got just the thing. It’s geekery that has caused the lack, so I think it fitting I give you some of my geek-themed naughty pictures from my hard drive.

Will that do?

Some nerdy nudity? Some gamer girls? Something to fill your hot niche?

I was not being crude. I refer only to the pictures.

Here, take your fill… ♦

♦ Y’know, I was a little worried that I didn’t really have all that much to write about for the blog at the moment. I mean, yeah, I’m still getting a good amount of very good sex with Fractal and I’ve still got plenty of pictures from my hard drive to share and so on, but I felt all that to a little bit same-old same-old.

So, hurrah for well-timed serendipity, eh?

We’d just woken up, more or less, and Fractal left the bed and bedroom first to go and make some coffee. Since he was off elsewhere and I was still in bed I figured I’d have some fun with myself. It’s nice to masturbate in bed without company now and again, after all.

Plus, I get to be alone with my thoughts. Mostly these are of Fractal but sometimes he is joined or replaced by others: anonymous ciphers with all the right parts, girls online or else people I know like Flirt (the ’straight’ female friend of mine) or Crush.

Today, I had Crush on my mind, at first. Last night had some rough and tumble and play-fighting and whilst in reality he’s out of bounds now (being in a closed relationship an’ all) there’s still the chemistry and mutual attraction.

I took out my purple Rosebud vibrator, removed the increasingly pointless-seeming rubbery tulip-like bulb and placed the bare silver egg against my clit. Wasting no time, I turned it up to full whack. I started thinking of Crush fucking me, imagining his cock sliding deep in and out.

The vibrations were starting to really kick in. I love the luxury of patience and contemplation that a vibrator gives me over my fingers. No need to work hard for my pleasure, all the time in the world to lie back and toy with myself, play with my orgasm, really explore the build-up.

It wasn’t long before Fractal, mentally, entered the scene.

I guess I get greedy :P

Soon, in my mind, I had Crush fucking my pussy and Fractal’s erection deep in my mouth. Someone was twisting my nipples, hard.

The sooner they invent VR, the better.

But anyway, the vibe is really buzzing my clit now and I know I’m going to come and come hard. I relax back into the preliminary muscle-pulls and orgasm blissfully and intensely. As I do so, I distinctly feel fluid rush from my sex and onto the sheets, partly coursing the curve of my ass.

Did I just-?

Did I?

I mean, I’ve suspected a mini-squirt before, but this, this is pretty full-on.

Not one to spoil my fun by ending prematurely however, I gave myself another strong orgasm before finishing up to take a look.

Yeah, that’s definitely a wet patch. Clear, big and damp. Smells fine too, thank God for that, because the alternative is much worse. Wow. Holy crap, I just ejaculated.

It’s a damn good job I even know it exists, because even then I had to double check to make sure. Most sites I’ve seen seem to think it’s the G-spot that gets you to squirtsville, but hey, clitoral isn’t unknown and as a girl who’s orgasmed purely from touching someone else, who am I to quibble?

After feeling mildly dazzled and mildly self-satisfied for a second or two, I went into the other room, naked and sheepish, to tell Fractal. He didn’t even know what I’d been up to, so he was quite surprised. I showed him my own little come-patch. I told him about the bare vibe and the thoughts I’d been having.

He told me that I’d certainly have to be spanked for such bad behaviour.

I turned up my bare ass towards him and offered myself for some ’sample spanks’.

Smack, smack. One on each cheek, sharp.

Aroused he pressed his hardening cock against my cheeks.

Not only had I just had my first experience of squirting, but I was sure there was fun to come…. ♦

♦  It’s that time again, ladies and gents. The time for ole Auntie Blacksilk to come and tell you what she’s been getting up to with the nice shiny gloops that Durex sent. You remember? I’ve already told you all about my slippery fun with the Piña Colada from their range.

I figured it was time to give some more a good thorough test-run.

Not so long ago Fractal lay back lazily on our bed, his body exposed in the summer night air. He was naked. I was naked too. It was warm and our feelings had also been warming, our bodies brimming with desire for touch and expression, my sex and his sex growing hot.

His cock was hard and my hands ran playfully over it before turning more seriously to their work. It was getting late. Too late really for fun and games. But minds are easily betrayed by hearts and bodies combined.

I worked up and down his silky shaft, as he lay back like a young god. He wanted something special from me. He wanted my parlour trick. He wanted to come, writhing and whimpering at my touch, heart leaping. I was keen to oblige. I rummaged for a new bottle of lubricant to try: the last demands of a mind trying to be sensible and constructive, just the once, before being silenced by lust.

I slathered his cock in the Heat lube and blew, as per the instructions. Nowt. Unfortunately, I wasn’t too surprised. We’d actually tried Heat before and so we knew what to expect. As fellow reviewers Lacestockings and Innocent Loverboy have said before, the warming function doesn’t really work.

You can blow all you like but you won’t get anything. At least, I couldn’t get anything. Neither could Fractal. Nothing warmer than things would already be with my body-temperature breath, anyway. Still, that didn’t stop us from enjoying it. I ran the palm of my hand relentlessly around the rim of his glans, slick from the lube. He was starting to shudder.

I love using this particular trick on him. I really need to come up with a name for it, because it is kinda my speciality. From the two test subjects I’ve had its had a remarkable response, I call that a success. And it always gets Fractal wriggling, no matter what. Properly wriggling too. Helpless. Mine. I should really use that to my advantage more.

He came hard after not too long. He groaned and buckled and shook and finally begged me to stop. I did. Eventually.

And the lubricant? Well, no, Heat doesn’t heat. But it is still a darn good lube. It tastes pretty nice, Fractal and I are both reminded of children’s Calpol, which, for a medicine, was always rather tasty. Trust me, we don’t mean it in a bad way. It’s pleasant and sweet. It also feels good. It works well as a lubricant. It lubricates.

That’s the bottom line with it, really. It’s an inexpensive but very nice lube that works wonders for making things all nice and slippery and gooey and gorgeous. Just don’t go buying it expecting the heat effect to spice things up. Whilst it may well work for you, I haven’t heard anyone get it to do that just yet.

So, yes, by all means buy it but treat it as a standard, decent no-frills lube. So far it’s got a way to go to beat that Piña Colada.

Mind you, soon you’ll be hearing all about the Tingle too… ♦

“Love can sweep you off your feet and carry you along in a way you’ve never known before. But the ride always ends, and you end up feeling lonely and bitter. Wait. It’s not love I’m describing. I’m thinking of a monorail.”

Jack Handey