Tag Archive | Bisexual

Witticisms: Sexual Morality

♦ 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

Niagara Fallen

♦ I have a strap-on harness. Two, in fact, though I think one may end up going back to the shop soon as it’s just not as good as the other. Well, technically, three, but one is Vac-u-locked to a phthalatastic Doc Johnson ‘dong’ that I am never going near again. It’s basically waiting on death row for a suitable demise. Fire’d be nice.

Anyway, I have a strap-on harness, or a few, and a goodly number of dildos. Long and fairly thin (like the one below, which is the Tantus Niagara), small and veiny, gorgeous and realistic, neon and slim, curved and chic, flexible and artsy. Heck, with the latest review item I’ve been sent, I even have a fantastic take on the stereotypical massive black one. And all of those have just the right base for putting in a harness.

Crush isn’t into anal or harness stuff, though, so why bother? Well, several reasons actually. Firstly, I originally bought the evil rubber one to experiment with my thoughts around gender. As you may know, I’m into androgyny. I’d love to have a cock of my own to play with and I can even make myself orgasm, in the right mindset, by stroking a cock or strap-on and pretending that I do. A strap-on harness allows me the fun and exploration of make-believe. Plus, it’s great for boinging around and doing the helicopter dick. :P

And besides which, I’m on the lookout for a nice girl to hopefully play with. And oh, how I’d dearly love to fuck a girl with my cock. A real cock would be better, but science continues to fail me, but this would certainly do. I find myself often shifting to a more masculine me around girls, actually. So hopefully if the opportunity arises, my harness will be good for that too.

Until then, I’ll have to stick to strapping one on and hanging out with my wang out. Like so… ♦

TMI Tuesday – You Inspire Me

1. List ONE word to describe your last sexual encounter.


2. Can you recall your worst sexual experience? Why was it so awful? Did you do anything at the time to try to make it better?

I don’t know about worst ever, there have been quite a few potentials on that list, despite having had two very loving partners over the years. Occasionally I become irrationally hard to please, which makes everyone upset, occasionally I had to stop mid-scene with Fractal because it wasn’t working and was making me upset.

The one I’m thinking of isn’t like that, though. It’s not THE worst, probably, but sticks out in my mind. It was one where circumstances screwed it all up. Crush and I were trying to fuck in my front room while Fractal was asleep in the bedroom (please bear in mind I was in an open relationship). Sadly, it was summer and the sofa we were trying to shag on was that awful fake-leather kind that sticks to you like glue. Crush has sensitive skin and that bastarding sofa made it so bad for him that even when we moved to the floor, fun was off for the evening. Poor lad.

3. Do you fuck outside the box?

We all have a laundry list of things–features, demographic characteristics, etc. that we like and/prefer in a sexual partner. Do you ever deviate from that list? Give an example.

To be honest, I’ve not done an awful lot of sleeping around. I would, but my open relationship with Fractal only had two flings and my relationship with Crush is closed. Well, OK, it’s closed but I’ve recently been told I can fuck women, at least. Which is huge progress, by the way, but I’m not scouring the Net for hotties just yet. That said, if you’re interested… ;)

Anyway, point is, I haven’t had a lot of opportunity to “fuck outside the box”, really. But I still think I have.

I had sex with a woman. But I’m bisexual, right? Well, I wasn’t then. Or rather, I didn’t know I was. I don’t know if it exactly counts, but since my “type” at the time was geeky brunette men I knew well, hooking up with a random blonde girl off the Internet was pretty much as far out of the box as I could get at the time. I had no idea if I’d like it. I did.

Of course, now I consider myself bisexual, so girls aren’t “out of the box” any more. But girlsex is still probably my top fantasy-that-I’ve-already-done-but-need-to-do-again-and-more.

4. Do you blend BDSM in to your relationship? If yes, just in the bedroom or in other areas of your life? Explain.

Yes, I do. Pretty much just in the bedroom in any serious way, but it creeps into our life in playful little ways and in teases and flirts. In the bedroom, I am a switch who almost always submits and he is a dominant who is happy to be my occasional plaything. My Blue Moon Dom doesn’t come out much, hence the name, but is a real part of me that needs airing now and then. There’s so much to cover on all this that I’ll leave it here, but feel free to ask.

5. Does the thought of your partner/significant other having sex with another person turn you on? Would you want to watch the act? Would you like to join in?

Yes, yes and yes. Crush knows this. I would love for that to happen. I genuinely don’t think I’d mind him having sex with another woman (or man, but he isn’t into that) and I think it’d turn me on a lot. Especially if she enjoyed herself. I’d totally whore him out. :P

If I could watch or join in it would be just amazing. I really want a threesome and I really love the idea of voyeurism.

I’ve always found it a shame that in my open relationship with Fractal he never once did anything with anyone else (as far as I know, anyway) even though I kept encouraging him too. He admitted that he was just too lazy to find someone when he had me, even though he knew how much I’d enjoy it. Not impressed.

Bonus: Fill in the blanks. I like it _____ on the outside and ______ in the middle.

Crunchy and smooth. Armadillos are the surprising alternative to sex.

King of Hearts

♦ Her heavy breath brushed the lobe of my ear as she leant in to kiss my neck. She smelt faintly of men’s deodorant and alcohol. Her lips brushed my skin teasingly before she nipped at me, catching me off-guard, her teeth finding purchase. She released me and grinned; I stifled a giggle. Her eyes were full of sparks and japes half-remembered.

I remembered what those eyes could lead to only too well.

I shifted in anticipation, my bare thighs cosied and comforted by the warmth of the bare duvet beneath us. She leant back onto her knees, exposing the worn-through holes in her jeans. Her delicate fingers probed under my buttocks, feeling for the hem of my too-flimsy dress.

I shifted again, this time to allow her to free the hem from my weight. Her brown eyes caught the light as she lifted my skirts, her irises seeming to shift colour like a cheap mood ring.

She pulled my skirts up my thighs slowly, letting the sheer fabric glide over my skin, her eyes staying locked to mine until the skirts reached their destination at my waist. Once they had, her eyes travelled down to fix on my shamefully bare and smooth crotch. I fancied I could almost hear the word ‘whore’ echo in her pretty blonde head, but who knows what she was really thinking?

I felt like a butterfly on a pin.

I pressed my thighs together, hiding as much of my naked slit as possible. The heat rose on my cheeks. I was enjoying this too much.

Her hands came to rest gently on my wrists, squeezing tight before quickly bringing my arms up above my head. She leant in, pressing my captured wrists into the wall above the bed, her left hand dropping to tangle in my hair as she kissed me full on the lips.

My tongue sought hers and I pressed forward into her, kissing back fiercely. My wrists tested her grasp a little but not too much. Deep down I knew that if I escaped her I would only leave myself wide open to being caught again. I didn’t want to be free of her; the fight wasn’t in me. Whatever hold she had on me physically was nothing when the mental hold she had on me was so much more. Like so many times before I was falling into submission before even really being pushed.

She leant back suddenly and, letting go of me for a moment, moved to straddle my legs. I could still feel her on my lips as I watched her. In one agonisingly slow move that in truth probably didn’t even last as long as our kiss, she pulled the tight grey vest from her body. Her beautifully round breasts quivered slightly from the movement, her nipples erect and inviting.

I took her by the waist, loving the feel of the soft skin there and enjoying the curve of her body under my palms. To me, her waist was sculpted more finely than a Rodin and squeezable beyond belief. I pulled myself forward into her body, my mouth fluttering kisses over her breasts like moth against a light bulb.

A sigh hissed out from her lips as I tasted the tip of her nipple, my tongue circling the bud slowly, tentatively, before taking it into my mouth. I sucked gently and removed one hand from her flank, running it up her body, taking the scenic route at her breast before coming to rest behind her neck.

She took that badly; a step too far, too impertinent. Her fingers tangled in my hair again, this time to pull back firmly as I lifted my mouth from her nipple. I gasped and went with the tug.

My neck now exposed, she drew a long, firm scratch down it and then under my collarbone, hooking her finger under the strap of my dress and pulling it from my shoulder. She did the same on the other side and my dress slipped down over my breasts under its own weight, exposing my chest.

She darted forward and bit me hard on the top of my breast, making me yelp in surprise. Her teeth pinched in and she sucked at the soft skin a little into the bargain. Desire fizzed and rolled in my cunt. I sighed heavily. She let go and her lips brushed over my nipple before she took another firm hold, this time on the round underside of my breast.

I wriggled, but made no move to stop her. I liked playing defiant now and then, liked to test the limits, but with her there was really no question as to who, no matter the outfit, wore the trousers. It didn’t come up in humdrum life. No sign of it showed in our ordinary friendship. But once in a while she’d decide to pull me into another world with her. A world where unspoken rules were made clear by look and touch and a knack for punishment on her part.

Here, in this world of sighs and ecstasy-as-flesh, she was king.

She spoke for the first time since we sipped drinks together at the party, since she’d taken my hand and led me giddily upstairs.

“Pass me my bag and then turn around and close your eyes. I want your hands on the headboard bar at all times. No peeking. You’re in enough trouble already….” She paused with a smile that would have fooled Red Riding Hood in a wink. I was not so naive.

“..and I’m going to enjoy showing you just how much.” ♦

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this since it’s my first attempt at girl on girl fiction. Don’t be shy to leave a comment! Story kindly beta read by the lovely Maddie, thanks!

Sweet Dreams Are Made of These

♦ Well, whaddya know. I was wondering what I’d write about for the next blog post and then my own sleep-encased imagination hands it to me on a plate.

Thanks imagination… thimagination.

You see, I had a rather interesting weekend in terms of dreams. On Friday night I dreamt about some pretty graphic hot sex with a man (which I’d write about but have unfortunately forgotten pretty much all of, except that blowjobs were involved) and on Saturday night I was treated to some sinful sapphic stuff.

Sex dreams are fairly rare for me, two in a row rarer still, but this, this was so real. I could feel the soft matte of her skin, see the glean where she was moist, see… but I get ahead of myself.

I was at her house, I was picking her up for a date, a fairly important one, like the prom (or whatever, I’m not a Yank) or something. And, now bear with me, I was a boy, or sort of. I was dressed like one, I was playing the role of one. Still a girl though. I guess this must sound like pretty old news to proper lesbians but it’s a kind of new one to explain for me.

Very hot, though. I’d clearly be the butch one ;)

Anyway, I was in her bathroom (dreams eh?) waiting for her to finish getting ready (women eh? :P) and she comes in, half-dressed, or should I say, half naked, midway through getting changed. She was wearing cobalt, which matched the walls, but instead of the top being around her neck it was loose, one of her perfectly smooth round breasts exposed.

She was innocent about it, or at least made a convincing portrayal of innocence, as I made eyes at her. I made my intentions pretty clear, she told me we had to do things properly, that I’d have to wait until after the dance. But I couldn’t.

I pinned her quickly, firmly but gently to the wall. I held her as my lips found their mark on her breast, the other falling free as she let go of her dress top. I kissed and licked and sucked and she wriggled and sighed and moaned. My hands explored too and all hint of protest from her had disappeared. It’s still pretty vivid now.

And then something in her flicked. She changed. She pushed out from the wall and looked me in the eyes. She told me, commanded me, to kneel. Her voice was full of power and lust and I knew I’d just released a demon with my kiss, one who’d wring every drop of energy out of me for her pleasure. And mine.

I knelt. I could do nothing else.

As I did so she raised her skirts and gently lowered her underwear.

“Lick me” she said. And her voice went straight to my core, bade me to obey.

So I did. No helping it, not that I’d have wanted to. I flicked my tongue at her sex, gently spreading her labia as she hopped up on a nearby surface, sitting. Her sex open to me, I let my tongue roam. And as I said before, the dream was so real I could see her arousal, see the pores on her reddened, glossy pussy.

I began to lick her clitoris and she shifted like a contented cat….

Unfortunately that must’ve been where I woke up, because it’s all I can remember and I think we’d all agree a dream like that is pretty unforgettable. And don’t get me wrong, all is going very well in the sack with Fractal, but good lord do I need a woman. Men don’t have boobs after all.

I wonder where I can find a lovely young lady to play with…  ♦


♦ I’ve been having restless nights.

It’s been so long since he slept either with me or beside me that I’m starting to mix the two with my own sleep. Lying awake, unable to grow sleepy thanks to thoughts of him.

‘Well, I just couldn’t help imagining you next to me in bed, behind me specifically, running your hands over me. Lifting up the back of my dressing gown to caress my behind before drawing close enough to rub your groin against it. Your cock hardening.

Imagining you kissing my neck, parting the gown at the front to stroke my breasts. Then imagining you rubbing your hard cock against my behind as you move your fingers to my sex. And you rubbing my clitoris as you enter me like that. And the slow, slow thrusts and strokes that would soon force us to grow frantic and change to a position more suitable for the wilder kind of sex.

And that was about it really, snippets of that repeating as I tried to go to sleep…’

For the last three nights at least it’s been like this, on this same set of thoughts, so strong I can almost feel him, like tactile hallucinations. Keeping me awake and my sex tense.

This is the longest time apart from him since the summer, or perhaps even Japan. It’s strange that this time, unlike every time we’ve been apart so far, I’ve not been missing him in a melancholy way, not been tearing up at the length of time we’ve been separated. Perhaps its because I’ve had exams to focus on and I know that that won’t help.

I talk to him every day, which also helps, but that can’t convey the look in his eyes when he smiles, when he laughs, when he pins me to the bed and takes me. Nor the warmth and softness of his touch as he holds me, nor the needful grasps as he feels me, fucks me.

Gods, I need him here. I need his body and, somewhere behind those Penfield eyes, his beautiful mind.

Of course, knowing that I’ve been getting, er, worked up, he hasn’t sat idly by and watched, oh no. He’s been encouraging every wanton thought, the devilish boy, and I wonder how long I can stand this thirst ♦

Latex leads to lust


♦ Last night lust invaded my dreams too.

I was getting ready to go to somewhere kinky (for some reason this all started in some caves, I dunno why everyone was living in caves, but meh). Not sure exactly where, perhaps a fetish club or something, I think perhaps for a sexy rendez-vous. Either way I had black latex gloves on, and a black latex skirt, all very shiny . And stockings like that too, I wasn’t wearing any top except a shiny black PVC jacket, open.’

‘That sounds like a fucking amazing attire.  We’ll keep it mind, for later.’

‘The bed I was getting ready on was large and dark red and had a few bondagey things on. I tried out some leather cuffs on myself. Then tried them on my legs, before taking them off, perhaps even with me, and leaving. But I got a bit lost on the way to this place and ended up outside these caves. I was walking down the street, it was early morning, very sunny, but there were still people around. I felt a bit self-conscious but also brazen, thrilled a little by the scandal of being seen by such normal vanilla people, whereas I was clearly some wanton hussy. They mostly tried to ignore me, but there were glimpses.

The rest of the dream involved a lot of wandering around trying to work out where to go and in the end I got bored finally. I decided to try and find a nice quiet spot in these woods I was by now in and either enjoy myself or find someone to seduce. It ended with me seeing some fairly attractive guy relatively alone and wondering if I could try seducing him, since everyone else was annoyingly not so vulnerable, all prudes or couples.’

Ooooh. Seducing another *guy*’.

‘If it helps I believe all the people at the place I was trying to get to were ladies. At least I remember when getting ready thinking of one or maybe two very sexily dressed ladies briefly, can’t remember anyone else.  So I may have been off to do some half-nekkid fetish bisexual threesome flirting. They were dressed in the same sort of things as me: one with gloves but with a wasp-waisted shiny black PVC corset and a lacy blindfold, she had longish black wavy hair, piled slightly on her head. The other was less clear, perhaps simply wearing black latex gloves and a black latex skirt, I think she had a very straight black bob…’

‘No, it doesn’t help, you filthy girl…’

Never quite reached


♦ Discussing the dream was almost as fun as the dream itself, perhaps moreso given that the dream seemed keen to get me all dressed up and with nowhere to go, I feel sure I’d never have got to the really good bits. We discussed how I felt about the idea of being all kinked up in front of others, the likelihood of getting away with going to meet Fractal in just my black PVC halterneck dress (very un- :P), and the likelihood of me being a complete wreck/cock-hungry slut (in my own semi-serious words) by the time he gets here in a week (very :P).

The half-hallucinations, the dreams of unfulfilled lust seeking outlet, the way my sex aches at the thought of him, like some fever I can’t quench. And just as I think I can’t take any more he tests me further, describing in detail what he’ll do when he does get here…

Which shall be the subject of my next post, dear reader…   ;)  ♦

The Morning After the Night Before

♦ Okay, okay, so it’s now some time after the morning after the night before, but that’s what you get when this is the first time you’ve been out and the venue happens to be that dingy, offers drinks that cheap and is that full of mad moving bodies. And also when you’re trying to keep up with your housemate who has a good several hours and drinks headstart on you, having actually finished her exams. Still, not long now for me either.

(I started writing this the morning after, honest! But then multiple episodes of ST:TOS distracted me. Then the net sucked)

And it is said housemate that caused such a fuss that it warrants bloggitude. To give you a little bit of background this is a rather attractive young lady who seems, despite having been happily taken since long before university and my knowing her, to attract men like flies. She just has this…energy, I guess, and a quirkiness that for some mildly baffling reason is like catnip to all sorts of men. All of whom go home disappointed, because she’s also very loyal to her man.

She was also a bit of a subject of awe for me in my tamer days when I found she had – shock! horror! – shared a few fun just-for-fun kisses with female friends. When I slightly drunkenly (but not so drunkenly to not know what I was doing) told her and her boyfriend about my little lady-encounter the other day the direction of awe was entirely reversed, and at quite a strength. She admitted that it was something she wanted to try herself but her and her boyfriend both said they weren’t sure if they’d be entirely okay with it, which is fair enough.

Since my little revelation though, I swear I’ve caught her looking at my breasts a few times. And last night seemed to suggest (at least according to Fractal during my post-night out report, because frankly I fail at noticing dishonourable intentions) that some part of her would like to do the quadruple-melon-jiggle with me…

As I say, she was drunker than me (I find my inhibitions to be rather stubborn tenants not easily dissuaded by mere alcohol), and kept kissing my cheek. At one point she seemed (and I say seemed because for coherence Mr Vodka Is Not Your Friend) to be suggesting at one point either that I could seduce her, or that she could seduce me or both or something along those lines… I wasn’t sure exactly what the sentences were but the words were sex-tinged and the tone of voice moreso.

When we reached the club there was a quick moment of confusion that created the brush of her lips briefly against mine, and the rest of the night seemed to include an awful lot of her doing some dancing against me that could probably set paper alight simply by being in the same room. The sexy hip-swaying, boob-rubbing, crouching down low and rising up kind of dancing that I could by no means keep up with (largely on account of seeming to have inherited the knees of an old woman. I wonder if she wants them back?). I mean really sexy. I mean, I’ve seen her dance sexy before, but this was something else and much of the time her eyes were looking right at mine. And I swear I felt like prey.

You all know I’m hardly a prude, but really, I felt out of my depth, wondering if she’d pounce. It was baffling and almost frightening, in a fun way, to feel the full force of it. I’ve always thought her sex life must be rather vanilla, but I now wonder whether she might not be a bit of a tiger.

(She also told me again that night that she’d really like to try sex with a woman, though in contrast to her above behaviour this seemed the more friendly-girly-confession stuff I was used to)

Not that I’ll be finding out. Firstly, alcohol was abundant that night. Secondly, her and her boyfriend clearly need to sit down and talk about that whole issue before they try experimenting with it; she seems keener than him and both of them had some rather strict criteria, further it seems jealousy is more of a factor in their relationship than in mine and Fractal’s. Lastly, and I have to say I feel a bit of a fraud for saying this, but she’s my housemate, y’know? I mean, not for much longer, but still. It would feel a little awkward.

It’s been on my mind though. She does have some very attractive points. And I guess there’s no harm in just thinking one or two guilty thoughts? ;)

It wasn’t just the possible Sapphic intentions of my good friend that made the night bizarre enough to warrant boring you all to tears with it, no no! There was also a friend of a friend of a friend that I met for the first time, who shall henceforth rather unimaginatively be referred to as Ice Guy.

Ice Guy was seemingly obsessed with ice. I’ve had the whole ice-down-the-back trick pulled on me before, but this was really something. He would just periodically take ice from his drink and drop it down my back or place it on my bare shoulders. He did this somewhat to the aforementioned housemate, but I think she got a little sterner about it than I did. It was slightly unsettling, not because I disliked it, but because I love ice and it was hard not to suffer a chain-reaction to it and get flustered.

Though I attacked back he was far more prepared than I and I wasn’t sure whether encouraging him too much was wise. He later half-apologised for it, saying that ice was just too much fun and that he only didn’t do the cleavage variety because it was ‘too obvious’. He told me, as if I didn’t know, that there were much more perverted things that he knew which could be done with ice, and I’ve still not worked out whether this was a come-on, a brag or mere drunken TMI. Not to be outdone by, and determined to live up to my admittedly unknown sex-blogging reputation, I informed him that I too knew of some very perverted things to do with ice.

The conversation derailed under the extremely loud music and the pressure of alcohol on the coherence-producers of the brain, and some time later he buggered off home anyway.

Speaking of coherence, I apologise if this post has also been somewhat lacking, but it was a very confusing, wonderfully baffling and hugely fun night. I honestly don’t think I’ve had a night out with such semi-sexual surrealism in it before, and the whole experience left me very glad I’d gone and in that sort of mystified happiness you get from having fun in a slightly nonsensical way.

Some rather high-intensity bisexual flirting and some bemusing fun with ice, one of the most sexed up Nights Out (as opposed to nights out :P) I’ve ever had. I love my city, and I think, especially with Fractal here with me for the next year, that things can only get better, and sexier, in it. ♦

Popping my Girl-Cherry

♦ By now most of you will know about my daring little bit of self-exploration that I undertook last week, and you’ll also know, albeit somewhat briefly, that it was a case of mission accomplished. But I promised details.

Now you get them :)

We were shy, both of us. But she was pretty. Prettier than in the photos in fact, if a little larger. But I’m hardly skinny myself. We met in a pub, had a drink, then another, chatted, perfectly innocent all of it. Few hints of flirting beyond smiles and laughs. We left, ostensibly to go to another pub but ended up in my room.

A good five, ten minutes at least of idle chatter. I was willing and wanting to get things a little further, but I’m shy, as I say. I don’t know how to do seduction, at least not on anyone other than Fractal.

Luckily for the both of us she turned and said “I’m just going to kiss you now”, to which my rather suave/lame response was “Good”.

We kissed. She had soft lips. I’d seen that she had a tongue-piercing earlier, it didn’t seem to make much difference though. So there was kissing, and then I put my hand on her leg. And she put hers on top of mine and after a little bit, dragged my hand to her crotch.

Hold Me


So I rubbed a little, through her jeans, while running a finger or two above her decolletage, slightly hooking a finger under her the top hem of her vest, to just above the beginning of the bra. She ran her fingers likewise, and squeezed slightly at one of my breasts.

It was funny afterwards, to think of the similarities, but the way we undressed was so like my first time with Fractal. I wonder whether it’s something fairly common for one’s first time with a new person. I wonder if it’s somehow ingrained slightly, or if it was just a coincidence. A sort of way of undressing that reminds me a bit of poker.

“I’m just going to be forward and take this off” And she started to remove her top and bra.

“Forward is good. I guess I should too.” And I followed suit.

I should say now that every item of clothing went this way, when its time came. You’ve got no knickers? Well, I see your knickers and take off my own! As I say, a sort of tentative style of undressing that I’ve now decided to call Texas Hold’Em :P

Anyway, now bare-breasted I saw that she really was rather well-endowed and her large breasts were adorned, on one nipple only, with another piercing. As expected a curious cat like myself went straight for the piercing, taking it between my fingers, her nipple with it. I admit though that I wasn’t quite sure what to do with it, I’d never seen a real one before, let alone touched one. But I treated it the same as any other female nipple, I rolled it between my fingers, squeezed it as she did the same to my own.



She made some nice noises, softer than my moans when I’m with Fractal, breathy murmurs. My breathing had changed too. I bent my head and put my mouth to her non-pierced nipple, sucking and nibbling and flicking my tongue over it. After that she took one of my nipples between her lips.

I feel I should apologise now for being a bit of a girl… I wasn’t exactly communicative with her. She was gentle. She wasn’t as rough as Fractal, as rough as I like. But I didn’t say anything. Perhaps I should have. In future I will, I know that. But it was our first time together, my first time with a woman. I didn’t want to get all demanding, especially as I might get difficult demands in return for someone as n00bified as me. Besides which it was nice, not *as* nice, but still nice. Still making me wet.

She tried to run a hand up under my skirt, but my skirt wasn’t having any of it. So I offered to take it off. She rubbed at my knickers then, feeling my labia and clitoris beneath. A short while later her jeans followed and I did the same to her as she snuck a finger under my underwear to touch the skin. Feeling that she was cheating a little, even with that brief touch, I slid my hand into her knickers, fully feeling her wetness. She did seem to be very wet. Wetter than me. And I started to rub.

Now, I’m going to sound like the worst woman in the world here, but there’s a damn good reason for this problem I swear: at first, I had a little trouble working out what was her clitoris. Wait! Don’t leave! I do know stuff about sex, honest! There’s a reason! It seems she had yet another piercing… A clitoral hood one. So for a brief minute I had trouble distinguishing between little nubby bits of metal and a little nubby bit of flesh.

But hey, as Fractal later pointed out, with a piercing like that even touching the metal and moving that around would feel pretty damn good. And I got there eventually :)



Soon knickers were off entirely, naturally in the Texas Hold ‘Em style ;) I kept my stockings on, lacy black hold-ups, a more informal approach than my preferred garter-belt variety.

We rubbed along each other’s labia then, and after a bit she tried to bend her head to my sex. The angle was wrong so, with me sat on the edge of my bed, she knelt on the floor, put her head between my legs and began to lick. It’s at this point I should quell the rumour that there is something hugely different and superior about lesbian cunnilingus. Don’t get me wrong, it was very nice, but it wasn’t earth-shatteringly better, or even better, than what Fractal does to me.

Anyway, she licked and fingered and I started to get very breathy and after a little bit I came. She kept going. I kept shuddering, halfway between orgasm and not-orgasm. This went on for a little while, after which she knelt back up and we rubbed our fingers over each other’s genitals again. I started to finger her and she opened her legs wide, trying hard to give me better access. Soon she started to shake and shudder, until she had to sit on the bed before she collapsed from the tremors.

I returned the favour then, bending my own head to lick at her clitoris, then a few casual licks over her labia, before going back to licking at her clitoris. I alternated this with rubbing it with my finger, all the while using my other hand either to spread her further or to place a finger or two inside her, stroking her G-spot. The combination of all these things made her soon start to shudder again and soon she was coming as her legs shook around my ears, my face pressed into her.

When she had finished shuddering I knelt back up and she motioned me onto the bed. She told me she was going to make me kneel, which I think just meant really “kneel, please” since I saw no signs of any ‘making’. I was still a little surprised though, if anything I’d thought to be in charge, but ho hum. Still, she was hardly very dommy. She fingered me as I knelt on all fours, occasionally ‘spanking’ me. I say ‘spanking’ because like everything else she was very gentle, and it certainly wasn’t going to do much to me anytime soon.


But the fingers did. And then when she started to tease my anus with her other hand, that felt wonderful. Really, really good. She was rubbing a finger over the hole, and then slowly partly inserting the tip and moving it about. It felt great. I came again.

Finally, after that was done I moved back and knelt behind her, on the floor again. And, still playing tit for tat, I started to tease her anus with my finger, causing her to open her legs slightly as she lay on her side. Using this to my advantage I rubbed my other hand over her slightly exposed pussy. She opened her legs wider, moaning softly again, and, whilst I put my thumb into her ass slightly and two fingers from the same hand into her vagina, she started to rub her clitoris.

Soon, she had run quite out of breath and shakes and we sat there for a few minutes before slowly getting dressed again. We parted at the door, and she said that we’d definitely be doing that again. ♦

♦ So there you have it, I guess. My first bisexual experience. Popping my girl-cherry. I enjoyed it, she seemed to as well, so I guess that crosses out any worries I had that I might be shit at it. And I figure it also clears up whether I’m bisexual or not, once and for all.

I guess as a last note I should point out one thing. It was fun. But it was not, nor will it ever be, nor will sex with anyone else ever be, as good or as fun or as wonderful as sex with my beloved Fractal. He’ll always be the one who truly makes me wet, makes me sexy, makes me come and makes my heart melt.

Sex without love is possible, certainly. But it is always inferior ♦