♦ He said he was too ill for sex. He’d hurt his foot in the rain and his stomach in a Mexican restaurant (I blame the greedily-gulped wine rather than the food). I told him I was tired anyway. My sister had just been shipped back to the Old Country and I’d spent too long browsing pens and paper and pins.
It was hot. I was hot. Summer seems replaced by stickiness and no sun.
I stripped off my clothes down to my underwear and lay back on his bed, cuddling my new owl cushion and flicking interestedly through The Encyclopaedia of Unusual Sex Practices. Absorbed in coprophagy, child marriage and corporal punishment, my flushed skin cooled and my body relaxed.
He came to give me some affection and noted my all-but-bared body with interest.
“I’d fuck you right now if I were feeling better.” He said, with a mixture of lust and disappointment.
We moved into my room to play a boardgame, but it didn’t quite turn out that way. I decided that the short journey required more clothes, especially if we wanted to be sociable and leave the door open. So I donned the khaki jumpsuit from our little military coup the other day. It’s light and not fussy and seemed perfect.
I’d have thought I’d be less alluring to Crush with more clothes on, but no. Covering up just made him all the hornier, it turned out. He crawled over me as I lay on the bed, breasts trapped by poppers that were so easily undone, skin tightly dressed in smooth fabric. He ran his hands over the khaki and ripped the poppers apart.
He pushed me down and swiftly pulled the top of the jumpsuit from my body. I removed the bra straps from my shoulders and he flipped down the cups, exposing my breasts to him. He smothered them in kisses before leaping up and tugging at the bottom half of the jumpsuit.
I toyed with him, struggling here and there, obstructing his efforts, playfully trying to resist him. But I wanted it too badly to really protest.
He whipped off his trousers and rubbed the fat head of his cock against my pussy. I was already slightly slick, but he still had to take things slowly, pushing his cock in and out, adding a centimetre of length at a time until suddenly my cunt resisted no longer, he was inside me and could fuck me with abandon.
And so he did.
He moved like an animal as I writhed underneath him. I bucked my hips and watched his feral movements in amazement. His haunches rocked back and forth, driving his shaft deep into me, his hands gripping me possessively. I moaned and wriggled and soon he was coming loudly within me, spilling himself into me, spending all his little energy.
He collapsed, head on my breasts and I stroked his hair. We’d already reclaimed the room, indeed bed, my sister had borrowed for the week: a week of late nights and camaraderie but not one single bit of sex to speak of.
Well, ill or not, tired or not, it was all better now. ♦
♦ My sister will be visiting me tomorrow and staying for about a week or so. I’m telling you this for two reasons: A) to let you know that the blog may well be on hiatus for the next week or so as I’ll be too busy having fun and B) I fancy having a bit of a ramble about it.
I’ve been tidying my room ready for her to stay in it (since I sleep with Crush in his room) and that got me thinking about my attitude to my family regarding this blog and sex in general.
Now, my family (by which I mean my dad and my sister) don’t know about my blog (heck, neither do my friends). They don’t know I review sex toys (one friend, my housemate Alt, knows that) and they don’t even know I use them (some of my friends tell legendary tales of parties involving items from The Drawer, even if it is actually now two drawers plus lingerie). They don’t know I’m kinky and they don’t know I’m bi. Or rather, I haven’t told them.
They basically know nothing about my sex life except who I’m dating, who I have dated and that we sleep in the same bed. Except my sister, who knows about the whole Fractal break-up thing and therefore knows I was in an open relationship then. She knows it’s how Crush and I started, she had to, to help me through the whole messy business. She was shocked, a bit, but took it in her stride, bless her.
And that’s all.
I moved house just recently and my dad came to help with his car because he is an angel. But I made very sure to pack all of my sex toys and my few kinky porn mags into a massive hold-all (man, that thing really can hold all!) and put my sex books in a separate box and let him touch neither of those containers in any way. Just like the last time I moved, in fact.
He’s a bit of a fuddy-duddy, my dad, and we don’t talk about that kind of thing. I’m not an idiot, I’m aware my parents must’ve had sex, maybe even – gasp – for pleasure, but there’s no hint of that at all in his personality. You know how people tend to give off cues that they’re OK talking or even thinking about sex, that they’re open about that sort of thing? Nothing. So, I hide it all because I really can’t imagine him reacting in a “cool dad” way about it. I’d expect bemusement at best.
So, what am I going to do about my sister living in my room for a week or so? My sex books (visual and not) are happily in my bookshelf, my sex toys (whilst supposedly living in The Drawers) are strewn about my desk, my lubes are lined up on the chest of drawers, my handcuffs are fixed to the radiator (classic), my hitty things are stood in the corner and my blog is the very first link on my Opera speed dial if she uses my computer. It’s all right there.
I’m sure that last time she stayed with me, which was ages ago now, I hid it all very carefully, but this time, things have changed. She’s really matured over the years, she accepts my casual hints towards liking women without comment and she’s a strong advocate in her own right of equality in sex and gender. I think she might have even known what “cissexual” meant before I did. She’s an awesome girl and I’m actually certain, despite worrying when I was younger, that she’ll accept me no matter my sexuality or kinks or what have you. I’m not scared of exposing an “innocent young thing” like her any more because I’m proud of who I am and, frankly, treating her like a child would be insulting.
So I’ll tidy my room to make it nicer for her, I’ll put those stray dildos back in their drawers, but the books will stay where they are, the lubes will be lined up neatly because that’s where they live, the toys will be there if she looks for them and the blog will be on that speed dial if she’s curious enough to click it.
And I’m OK with that.
And if she does click the blog and does read this, I’m OK with that too. If you’re reading this, sister, hi! I hope you don’t mind. If you want to pretend you didn’t find this, that’s totally fine, it’s your choice and I understand. And if you want to talk about it, hell, I’d love that. It’d be awesome and I’m happy to explain whatever you’d like. Don’t be afraid to ask me anything. Always.
So, that’s my family planning, really. My sister’s earned a peek into the ‘adult’ side of me if she cares to look for it. I’m proud of her. My dad, weirdly enough, is now the one I care about corrupting or confusing. I doubt that’ll change, but that’s OK.
Anyway, I thought it was interesting to look at how I change aspects of my personality and sexuality to suit two different members of my family, to talk about how much of myself I’ll hide or show and why. And I hope you thought so too! What about you? What do you hide or show to your loved ones?
See you next week! ♦
The Sqweel 2, made by Lovehoney themselves, is touted as the “world’s best-selling oral sex toy”. Of course, apart from its predecessor, the Sqweel, I can’t think of another “oral sex toy”, but that’s probably besides the point. What the point is, is that this isn’t quite your average vibrator. In fact, you can’t really call it a vibrator at all.
The Sqweel 2 is basically a series of ten inch-long flexible silicone tongues arranged like soft Stegosaurus spines on a wheel, a wheel which then rotates at various speeds to produce a sort of lapping sensation, supposedly like oral sex. But let’s be honest here, whether it’s that much like oral sex (a bit, not really) isn’t really important, does it make me feel good? We shall see.
The toy comes in a plastic insert inside a light cardboard box with an open front. Inside is an instruction booklet in several languages and the Sqweel 2 itself. The box is unnecessary for storage really, as the toy comes with a lid and is fairly self-contained. The only thing you might want to worry about is it turning itself on accidentally, which it does very easily. Not a travel toy unless you first remove the batteries. The Sqweel 2 itself is about five inches tall and about four and a half across with a depth of around two inches. So it’s pretty bulky for a clit toy. In fact, it’s about the size of my open palm.
There is a battery case on the back which takes two AAAs and on the front are two buttons and a cover with a slide lock. The soft tongue wheel is protected by a see-through pink plastic lid which comes off to allow access to the tongues. The main plastic of the case comes in either glossy white or glossy black. I have the white version and I have to say it looks pretty stylish in a girly but not too girly way. It actually reminds me of the Phoenix armour from Mass Effect, for any nerds out there.
The toy has three speeds: slow, medium and fast. And three modes: normal, reverse and flicker (which alternates between back and forth). All the speeds work with all the rotation modes. The two buttons on the front, which light up blue when the toy is on for a nice touch, control the speed and spin. What I think is great is that the speed button (the “play” symbol) is bigger and more central, as I’m a no-frills girl. I almost always prefer straight up power and no fuss than messing about with patterns. You press “play” to start and again to cycle through the speeds, while mode button cycles through the rotation modes. Simple. To turn the Sqweel 2 back off, you have to press and hold the “play” button for about two seconds.
Above the buttons there is a slide lock, which unlocks the front cover of the Sqweel 2, allowing you to take it off and remove the tongue wheel for cleaning. Since the toy is ABS plastic and silicone, it’s safe as well as easy to clean in terms of materials, though it’s not waterproof. There are some nooks and crannies to watch for, especially given the relative lubeyness of using the Sqweel 2, but it’s relatively easy work.
One thing I really like about this toy is the layout and functions of various buttons and locks. It looks good and it’s simple and easy to use. Though the toy does have some design problems for me (which I’ll go into in a sec), this part of it seems well-designed and not over-thought.
The Sqweel 2 is an odd beast to wrangle. It’s unlike any toy I’ve ever tried before and so I didn’t know what to expect, despite trying out the original on my fingers back at Eroticon. Besides which, I knew the original was a toy which divided opinions, so I wasn’t sure if I’d like the Sqweel 2 or not. It pleasantly surprised me, but was by no means without fault.
To use the Sqweel 2, you need a good bit of lube between your clitoris and the tongue wheel. Trust me, without lube is not a good idea unless you’re a fan of pain. So, lube is needed, but it’s a bit hard at first to know how to go about that. On my first go, I unwittingly poured far too much on and created a lubey mess. I thought it’d be a good idea to slowly spin the tongue-blades while I drizzled lube on them. While it didn’t go as badly as it could have (lubesplosion!), I didn’t realise how much I was putting on and ended up with a puddle in the bottom of the case under the tongues, which proceeded to leak onto my nethers and the bed when I tipped it up for use. Ick.
On my second go I used too little lube, or rather it dried up over time, and ended up with rather a lot of friction on my clit. I was coming at the time, so I didn’t mind, but when I finished: oh, my God. Ow. My clit was incredibly painful and sore. I don’t think I’ve ever been that sore before, so do please watch out for that. To be honest, I’m not sure I like the idea of a toy where it’s so easy to fuck up. It seems easy to use either too much or too little lube and, although I got better at gauging it over time, I just don’t like that it can go so badly. It’s all a lot of faff for an orgasm, especially when I don’t use lube at all when I’m focusing on my clit normally.
What makes it worse is that the Sqweel 2 is often incredibly hard to grip when lubey, which means you need to be even more careful how you lube it. The case is just far too slippery when wet and hard to grip. It could really do with textured or grooved areas to grip along the inwards curves at the side. Though it does have a few dents that mimic the shape of the tongues, I don’t think these are made for holding as they’re in a really awkward place for that. It makes the toy a bit of a two-hander, which can be really inconvenient, and I’ve struggled not to drop it a few times.
Of course, being a two-hander doesn’t affect this toy as much as it could as the sheer bulk and awkwardness of it makes it pretty clunky to use a dildo in me or anything like that anyway. It can be done, but it’s a bit awkward and just not worth the hassle. As well as clunky, it’s not exactly discreet either, though not stupidly loud. It could be heard through my door on medium and high speeds and on high flicker, but you could probably use music easily to cover it.
What about how it feels? Well, like I say, I was pleasantly surprised. It feels pretty cool! The tongues lap in a sort of soft-but-firm way and sort of brush past your skin using only the top half a centimetre or so of their surface. It’s an interesting sensation and hard to describe, sort of a cross between oral sex and actual vibration, like a gentle flicking. The reverse setting makes the tongue-blades spin in, well, reverse and seems to provide a slightly rougher, slightly more intense feel to the flicking. The speeds range from a fast kind of slow to a slow kind of fast, though I personally thought an extra speed at the top end would have been nice. But I always think that. I find the “flicker” back and forth mode pretty eh, preferring a steady and continuous feeling. But I always think that too.
The main issue that I think will divide people on the Sqweel 2 (as with the Sqweel) is that you’ve got to be OK with not squeezing it against yourself or really putting any pressure on at all. The rotation just can’t cope with resistance very well, which is a shame, and the wheel will either slow down or stop entirely. If you need pressure on your clit, back away now. I love pressure on my clit and find it’s a natural instinct the more into it I get, but I managed to control myself here and it worked out pretty well. It’s a slow build-up every time I’ve used the Sqweel 2 and it doesn’t always pay off for me. It feels great, but sometimes frustrating. It won’t make me come every time and I’m not always in the mood for “the journey”.
So, to Sqweel or not to Sqweel? Well, for me the Sqweel 2 is a bit of a conundrum. I want to like it, I’m just not certain I do. It’s innovative, it shows a lot of improvement from what I’ve read over the original, it’s stylish and fun and brings something different to the bedroom. But that’s perhaps the root of my problem. I like it because it’s something different, a unique sensation, and I don’t like it for the same reasons. It’s a very interesting toy with a unique sensation that is worth a try if you like different things, but it’s just a bit too much effort and faff for me to use often.
I want to love it for offering me something truly different from my usual fare, but it’s too unreliable for me. It’s hard to lube to the right amount, it’s hard to use because you have to not use too much pressure, it’s hard work because the sensations are very subtle and it therefore takes a lot of work to make me come. It just doesn’t make me come often enough. It’s not so much a fun ride. I’ll give it points for offering something unique and I’m sure I’ll experiment with it further, but it’s not good or orgasmic enough to become a toybox staple and the amount of effort involved for me in using it just puts me right off.
That said, if you’re bored of the everyday and want to try something different, this will certainly provide that for you. And good different too. Just not great. You can get the Sqweel 2 here from Lovehoney. ♦
♦ I came across this absolutely fantastic and apt quote about sex and our attitudes towards it by a Norwegian writer. Heck, you all know me enough by now to know I think this way, but it just sums it up so well and I really think it bears repeating. On sexual morality and why it is mostly bull… ♦
People speak of ‘sexual morality,’ but that is a misleading expression. There is no special morality for sex. No matter what you do with yourself, whether you go to bed with girls or with boys, and no matter what it occurs to you to do with them or with yourself, no moral rule applies to that sphere of activity other than the principles that govern every aspect of life: honesty, courage, common humanity, consideration. – Jens Bjørnboe
The RodeoH Harness is not the kind of strap-on harness you’ll probably be used to seeing. Instead of a tangle of leather or webbing straps, it looks like an innocuous pair of boypants. Now, I actually like the look of a standard strap harness when it’s done right, don’t get me wrong, but this is something else. It’s a different appeal altogether and I’m certainly damn glad the RodeoH briefs exist. They fill a great niche and look and perform fantastically.
The RodeoH Harness comes in a soft drawstring bag printed with the name RodeoH and some product information. Included in the bag is a metal dog-tag with the word “rodeoH” stamped on it. I know some people don’t really go for the dog-tag, but I loved it. It’s possibly because I think dog-tags are awesome, though.
The iconic RodeoHs, and the ones I own, are black with red accents and a light grey piping, but you can also get them in black and light grey as well as black and dark grey (though those styles don’t go as big as the main style does). The black and red is my favourite, though. I initially thought the piping was white when I saw it online, but it is actually a very light grey, which is great as any possible discolouration will be less obvious. I’m not the best at domestic malarkey.
The RodeH harness is, as I say, basically a pair of boypants with a wide waistband to support the weight of your various cocks. The front of the pants has an O-ring sewn in discreetly to the material, through which you place your dildo. Behind the O-ring is a flap of fabric (red in my version, making for a distinctive look) which keeps the base of the toy from contacting the skin and getting all hot and sticky. Like a little cock pocket.
The harness is made from 95% cotton, 5% spandex, if that means anything to you. Washing instructions are to machine wash cold or handwash for best results (this will keep the colours stronger for longer) and then hang or lay flat to dry.
You pick your size of RodeoH by measuring around your hips and I was between sizes at 51″. I was sent the 52″-55″ harness, their biggest size, but feel I could have actually easily fit the 46″-49″ too simply because of the comfy stretchiness. Handily, if I do need to shrink my RodeoHs at all, I can tumble dry them carefully on medium.
Pesky details aside, let’s get down to what the RodeoH harness is like. Firstly, I look hot in my RodeoHs. And I don’t think it’s just me. I’m pretty certain everyone would look hot in these things. They’re sexy but not too revealing and they’re very flattering. What’s more important, for me at least, is that I totally kink for this kind of boypants. Like, ridiculously. Heck, the RodeoH Tumblr is practically porn for me. I mean, look how sexy these things are:
I love the masculine aesthetics of the harness and it just looks fantastic. Not only that, but I really admire the brand image and style too and I think that RodeoHs as a company really seems to be a part of the communities they’re catering for, which is amazing.
So the looks are great, but what’s even more impressive is the feel. The RodeoHs are super comfortable. In fact, when I wear them on their own, I forget I’m actually wearing them. They feel supremely smooth and kind of cool on my vulva too. I feel snug, though they have plenty of leeway for weight loss/gain. I’m quite happy wearing them all day instead of normal knickers and they are just wonderful. That means you can be ready to go any time and you can even pack all day. Honestly, I cannot tell you enough how fantastic these are just to wear.
Let’s be honest, this is what these are all about for me. The little “cock pocket” does very well at holding my packing cock and wearing my RodeoHs all day with my packer in was also incredibly comfortable. It was a bit weird at first as obviously the shaft of my packer comes through the hole and then hangs freely on the outside of the RodeoHs instead of being tucked inside pants, but it worked better than I thought. I only occasionally had to deal with the shaft going AWOL and adjusting how you hang is totally natural. If I want to be a bit more “in place”, I can wear a pair of boypants over the harness to keep my package where it should be instead of swinging free.
Very occasionally the top edge of the packer will come out through the O-ring, but there was no way it’d come loose or fall out, so I don’t mind that much. Perhaps a packer with a firmer base would work better, though.
The most important thing about packing with my RodeoHs was that I almost forgot I was packing at all. That’s it, it’s just so natural. When I pack in normal boypants, I can feel the packer stick to me (not fun), I have to worry about slippage and it feels basically like I have something shoved down my trousers. With RodeoHs, it felt like I had a cock. Sure, some kind of cock with no sensation, but I adjusted myself like a man and it hung like a man’s cock and it was just all so normal and natural. I now wouldn’t pack any other way. No going back!
I don’t actually get to use my strap-on harnesses for girlsex or pegging (packing only, sadly), so I can’t give as full a review in this area as other users, but I did of course try out several dildos in the RodeoH harness. The only big downside I found to using these harness-pants is that the O-ring is sewn into the fabric itself and so there’s no way of swapping out O-rings. This means you’re limited as to what dildos you can use with your RodeoHs. RodeoH themselves recommend dildos 5″-6″ long by 1.5″-2″ diameter, which is a pretty decent range that will accommodate many cocks. It can take my Acute, my Adam (as seen above) and my VIP Super Soft among others, but it can’t cope with the width towards the base of my BS Is Nice Basic (Medium). And there’s no way I’m getting the Max in it.
The dildo sits well depending on where you position the waistband of the pants, so it’s somewhat adjustable in position. It’s perhaps not quite as sturdy as a strap-based harness, but then my RodeoHs are a little on the loose side and could be tightened up via careful shrinking if I want them more secure. If you get the right size for you, I’m sure you’ll be impressed with the firmness given by what is basically a clever pair of pants. Given my RodeoHs are a little loose I actually can access my vagina and clit whilst wearing them, which is handy, but you might not find the same with a tighter pair.
The RodeoH Harness is a fantastic addition to the world of strap-on play and packing as well as, I don’t doubt, to the transgender and genderqueer communities. They’re an endlessly stylish pair of masculine-style pants that look incredibly sexy and are also very functional. I love their style and the company itself. I definitely love how smooth and comfortable they are. As I say, I don’t get to used them in play at the moment, but for packing I can barely even think of going without them any more. They have absolutely changed my packing experience.
Before I was limited to using ordinary underwear to hold my cock and I was often afraid of it falling out or going astray in my pants and looking ridiculous. It also wasn’t comfortable, tending to stick to my skin, and it just didn’t feel sexy. It felt like a lump of blah shoved down my knickers. With the RodeoHs I feel secure, stylish and wonderfully masculine. With these I take pride in my cock. It feels natural and comfortable and transforms the whole experience. If you pack, I highly recommend these. And hey, since they’re so, so comfy, they make great boypants too, if a bit expensive for just that!
I highly recommend this harness/packing pants combo, so if you’re keen head over and get a RodeoH Harness from RodeoH themselves right now. And check out their Tumblr while you’re at for some incredibly hot and aesthetic shots. ♦
♦ “Close your eyes,” I said and he did. He lay back on the bed and shut them firmly, anticipating, always eager to obey when he knew I had something planned. I did have something planned, even if that plan had come together in the space of five minutes in the next room, rooting through The Drawers for kink and kit.
We’re having our housewarming this weekend and it’s fancy dress, because fancy dress is fucking fantastic. I’ve been making a military beret for mine and something clicked in my head when I saw it lying there, discarded. I’d been thinking lacy and stockings, but now…
I shut the door behind me and straddled him at the hips. When I allowed him to open his eyes he saw me dressed in the green beret and a very military-like khaki jumpsuit buttoned to the collarbone. I carried a crop under my arm, swagger stick style. I swear his eyes almost bulged from his head.
He was dressed only in his trousers and he looked beautiful. I’d already been impressed earlier that day by how gorgeous his arms looked: swimmer’s muscles, lean and lithe but strong.
You’ll have to forgive me. I may say it myself, but what he said to me and what I said to him and the roleplaying was so fucking hot. But I forget. My waves of orgasms are too good at wiping out the coastal villages of my memory. The details merge, the lines become brush strokes of eroticism on an Impressionist painting.
So, yeah, I forget stuff.
But the night was swimming with “Yes, Ma’am”s and permission asked and occasional cheek given. I enjoyed ordering him around and domming shit up and punishing insubordination where I found it, rewarding good behaviour too.
I unbuttoned the top of the khaki jumpsuit to show my breasts, naked but for a fishnet bodystocking and, supporting them, an almost Steampunk “bra belt”. My nipples poked through the black fishnet and I leant in towards his face. He sucked on my left nipple with ardour and I gasped and ground into his body beneath me.
Before I knew it, I was surprising myself with an orgasm. My grinding into him wasn’t even involved! This was all from his attention on one of my nipples and I inwardly praised my body as I shuddered on top of him.
Military-style banter that I so wish I could remember followed. Trust me: fucking hot. Crush respectfully suggested we try the experiment again to see if we could reproduce those results and I agreed, but this time I demanded to lie on my back.
He took my nipple in his mouth again and he began to suck, but my nipple wouldn’t be so easily swayed this time. No matter. As he sucked hard I began to rub my crotch over my jumpsuit and, not that he knew that, my black PVC thong underneath. I rubbed furiously, so turned on by his desire and the sheer fucking hotness of it all. Soon I was shuddering, a second orgasm rippling through me.
Now Crush was bold with lust and, as we switched places again, asked me if he could spank me.
Well, I was in charge as his Commanding Officer, so what to do? But a filthy thought occurred. I quite like the idea of hurting a man, something he might not necessarily like, as a form of payment by him to get something he really wants. I’m not sure what it is about it. Perhaps the idea that his lusts have overtaken him so?
In any case, I offered the price of five pinches of his nipple for an undefined period of spanking me. He accepted nervously and I began, gently, to pinch him. I brusquely told him to count and he did. But he tried to be cheeky, tried to count three when it was two. So I started again. He counted the fourth pinch before I’d actually done it, so guess what? I started again.
This time there were no mistakes and I dismounted him, leaning forward on hands and knees as he spanked me with the red paddle. Sometimes I hate that paddle. Sometimes, as you’ll see, I love it. But right now it was a hard one to take.
Take it I did, though.
Now naked, he sat on the edge of the bed and I produced my black metal handcuffs from the little pile of toys I’d brought in. I set them down and, hot from our exertions, stripped the khaki jumpsuit from my body. Now he saw the thong and the full glory of my bodystocking as its netting covered my sticky-hot curves.
The hat, I noticed, fell some time during the spanking. Now it was pure kinkwear, but we kept up our roles nonetheless. My geek society would be proud. :P
I opened the cuffs, managing to hook them into my fishnet on the way. Sigh. Unhooking them, I instead attached them to my intended target. I grabbed them by the chain and hoicked his arms above his head, scratching at his chest and back and eyeing him fiercely.
Letting go, I made him scoot up the bed and knelt between his legs, bringing my beloved Tango vibe with me. I placed it between my labia, cushioned by them and kept in place by my thong and thighs. I turned it on and felt it throb. I kissed my way up Crush’s body, crawling seductively, reaching his cock and…
…running my tongue playfully a centimetre above his shaft as if licking, but not. A tease. A torture.
The kisses marched up his chest and neck before I turned and swooped back down on his cock, licking for real this time, making love to him with tongue and lips. I was feral, enthusiastic, I moaned when he leaked pre-come and writhed back and forth, managing to rock against the vibrator nestled in my folds. I came once, twice as I licked fervently and then collapsed on his cock.
I offered to let him fuck me, right then and there. But Crush was on task. He knew I had a goal to reach and figured one more towards it before moving on couldn’t hurt. He asked me to carry on licking and sucking and coming on my bullet vibe, but this time he wanted some dirty talk. And, narcissist that he is, heh, dirty talk about him.
So I told him as I licked him about how hot he makes me, how sexy he looks, his gorgeous body, his thick cock and I licked and sucked. I wriggled and turned up the rumble on my vibrator until I came again, moaning on his cock, gagging myself with his erection.
The finest part of the evening was still to come though. And I’m not even talking about the penetration. No, while that was fantastic, I think I liked the next part better. Remember I said sometimes I love the red paddle?
He wanted to use it on me again, this time while I continued to use the vibrator on myself. I was only too quick to oblige.
It was interesting how through the whole thing, I was still in charge. Even when I asked him what he wanted, even when I shuddered under his hand as he spanked me. It was strange, although it shouldn’t be, and wonderful. I was his superior officer, he a lowly subordinate and I was using him for my kicks. Simple as. Whether he spanked me or not, it was my will and I could easily have him court marshalled in a snap, naturally.
I discarded the ridiculously-named “bra belt” and the thong and leant forward on the bed. He spanked me as I toyed with my clit using the vibrator and for a while it was much the same as the first spanking. Then the rumbling on my clit began to kick in and, as I worked myself towards another orgasm, I found myself wanting more and more and MORE.
“Harder,” I begged and Crush obliged. “Harder,” I cried and he hit harder still. With each gain in arousal I wanted more force, more pain. Soon I was coming hard and Crush was pounding on me as hard as he could. I had never taken this much force for this long before and I kept it up as I rolled into another fantastic climax. I was out of breath, sweating, shaking, I was full of the most wonderful feelings and sensations. I collapsed forward and turned onto my back, gazing at my beautiful lad with wide eyes.
“I love you,” I said, breaking character momentarily.
“I love you too,” he replied.
The sex that followed was frantic and amazing. Once I’d warmed to the large cock inside me, I told him he could go as hard or soft as he liked. I think he tried to teach me a lesson and soon I was bouncing, shrieking, revelling in the wonderful pleasure/pain of his rough thrusts. He came inside me after a time and we flopped next to each other, spent… ♦
♦ I’m doing a little project that was suggested by the wonderful Bondara sex shop thanks to a very serendipitous misread of a title online. What project is this? Well, only to have 100 orgasms in 10 days and write some sexy things about my experiences .
It sounded ridiculous at first and then I thought, hey, that’s only ten a day. It’s totally doable and weirdly intriguing. So I mentally signed myself up. I hadn’t planned to start until the weekend but then I noticed: it’s apparently National Orgasm Day today. How could I not start today?
So, I shall be writing a series of different things about what I get up to in my quest for roughly ten orgasms a day. This blog post is the first. I don’t have a particular long-term plan in my head for this little series, as I’m quite looking forward to seeing what my orgasms inspire in me, what comes out if I go in with an open mind and a blank sheet.
Anyway, below is a little bit of poetry based on orgasms number one and two of 100: a wake-up wank on a dozy morning. Please let me know what you think! 2/100 ♦
Sleep seeps into my bones
Like hot water into a sinking teabag
My face is fire, eyes heavy, mind a cartwheel
Of wheeling bodies and sandbags
I haul myself to solitude, away from the buzz
Trudge and slump
My idle hand seeks to make a plaything of me
Hisses between white hills and grey cloud cover
To a slumbering country of pinks and troughs
Where it plays
Staccato rhythms, the lark ascending
My middle finger circles, a motorist on a starting handle
A dynamo whirring
Cranking, shooting a Tesla coil hum through my wires
Static shivers along once-sleeping skin
Or perhaps I play
The fireman to my traction engine
The stoker of my coals
I feed the furnace, steam seeps between my thighs
The boiler of my cunt builds and sends
Hot, damp power through my body
White fills my vision
My body shudders and shakes, reawakened
Reborn, renewed, replenished
Bolts fly from their housings
An engine explosion
A singing, ringing crescendo of steam and smoke and white-hot metal
A hissing hot leak
Fingerprints dance over sodden skin
An aftershock blooms large and causes
Tender flesh to tremble again
A second spike
Lightning: a modern Prometheus cries “Live!”
The fog of sleep lifts
Dawn hits and my nerves turn to busy industry
I wake for the first time since
Opening my eyes
And trundle, alert, a purring machine