Friday, September 30, 2011

A novella from reality, part II

He rested, stroking my body, talking to me. I whispered that I was sorry and I wasn't planning on sassing him the next time he asked me to sit with him. He told me that was good. His hand wandered down my body and he found me incredibly wet. Everything from here is a little fuzzy - so I will try, but make no promises. I don't think I can properly relate the scorching heat or the intensity of what transpired between us - my words aren't powerful enough.

A novella from reality, part I

The ruler

I've mentioned before that he loves hurting my nipples. "They make such tempting targets," is his response when I ask why. I had purchased a transparent plastic ruler and put it in our toy drawer, and he was really loving using that on my nipples. On a recent shopping trip, I spied a large, thick wooden ruler that didn't have a metal edge on it (probably due to its cheapness), and I purchased it and slipped it into the toy drawer as well, without mentioning it. He noticed it several nights ago, but hadn't touched it yet. It just lay there, waiting.

My mind is blown

Oh, man. I so want to share this, to be able to record it in its entirety, but even as it was happening my brain was going "Too much, too much, can't process, can't record, can't" and my mouth was just going "Oh God, oh God, oh God." So I am going to do what I can and I'll try and post later today.

Thursday, September 29, 2011


I hate it when I'm scrubbing myself in the tub at night, I am finally all clean, everywhere... and the sudden feeling that my teeth haven't been brushed strikes me. Yuck. I have to end the bath and go brush my teeth right then.

Talking dirty

maui girl mentioned in a comment that my husband talks a lot during sex.

Oh yes, he does. It is fantastic. My brain latches right onto his words and they are so hot they burn into my brain and I remember them until the next time.. hence my ability to repeat them in writing verbatim.

It wasn't always like that though. Once upon a time we had hot sex, but all the talking was in my head. I'm a  woman with a lot of varied interests, and if there's no dialogue to keep me focused on what is going on right at that moment, no matter how steamy it is, my mind will drift. To programming problems, to a new recipe I want to try, to the price of copper and how much it'll cost to rewire a house, to what happened in the last episode of some intriguing show we watch, to some assignment that was due... so I would craft a dialogue in my head to anchor me in the present. I often told him this. Sometimes he would actually talk and it would clash with what was going on in my head, and that was disorienting for me and not terribly encouraging for him.

But clearly, what I wanted was him to talk more. His voice was the most important first turn-on I got from our relationship. We met online, not at any kind of hookup or dating site, just an entertainment themed chat. Back in the day that was a bit odd and we were just friends for years first, but it worked for us. Webcams weren't nearly so prevalent, nor were cell phones. We had neither. We did have crappy digital cameras to send occasional photos to each other. In between physical visits we had a lot of IM sex, and an occasional phone call. He was shy on the phone. Still is, actually.

I knew from the IM sex that there were words in that head of his, and I wanted them in our real relationship too. Once in a while he would rise to the occasion and those were the best times - but mostly he was still reticent and kept the glorious words from me. "I'm shy," he'd say. "I don't want to say the  wrong thing," he'd say. Of course, in an instant message he had time to craft his responses to perfectly tickle my fancies. Naturally that was a bit easier for him. I remember the last IM chat we had before he got on a plane for the last time to come and marry me, I talked about how I would miss those chat sessions. Not enough to keep him away, no, because that was torture all by itself. I knew, though, that building in reality what we had built in fantasy would be hard.

It was. I shan't recount our first night together after being married.

Eventually he (or I suppose, we, as I didn't know it either) discovered that a nice quick way to turn me on was to whisper to me directly into my ear. I started actually placing my ear as close to his mouth as I could get it during sex, and he would oblige me by whispering naughty things to send chills down my spine.

The clashes with what he would say and what was going on in my head didn't work for either of us. For me to truly submit to him, he has to talk to me. That's the only way to bind my mind. He asked me for a list of the types of things I'd like to hear; he also wanted to make sure he avoided any words that would directly turn me off, so he'd be free to venture from my list of likes so long as he didn't venture onto the list of definite dislikes. He started pretty slowly, with things like "You like that, huh?" and slowly graduated into the sex talk GOD he is today. Each time he would speak and bring me more into him and turn me on more, generating an actual physical response from me, it just urged him further. He has become more and more comfortable with it, and he enjoys it now probably as much as I do.

His literal response to maui girl's comment - "She should tell her husband she'd like him to talk more." Which is basically what happened with us... but it wasn't as easy as he makes it sound.

As a sidenote: Another morning!

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Morning after insatiability

Long break of us sleeping naked together, wrapped in each other... I kept waking up and practically purring at the pleasure of just being so close to him before drifting off again... then this morning I was watching him shave and brush his teeth after his shower (still nude). He noticed, and came over to sit next to me on the bed where I’d turned myself sideways to watch him. I rested my head on his thigh, he rested his hand on my ass. “That’s a funny way to sleep.”

 “Not sleeping.”

“What you doing then?”

“Enjoying the view.”

“Silly girl..” We chatted for a bit, I kissed the bits of him I could reach, he rubbed my back.. I don’t remember what we were talking about, but it was turning him on and then his cock was standing up from his lap, right next to my face. I took it in my mouth, despite the extreme awkwardness of the position. “What are you doing?” he asked me.

“Mmm,” I responded, my mouth full.

“Looks like you found a cock to suck..” His hands tightened in my hair and he guided my pace for a while, thrusting up into me as he pushed me down... then he laid back and merely tapped my head lightly, seemingly unconsciously, lost in sensation, as I moved on him. The position was extremely difficult and copious amounts of drool escaped from me, but I was determined and I got what I was after. I sucked him dry and then sucked all the drool that had pooled in his lap away.

“You are quite the cocksucker,” he told me, briefly resting with my head on his shoulder before he went to have breakfast and make his lunch. “That was lovely, thank you.”

Two mornings! Ha!

Insatiable slut

He came into the bed and immediately was on top of me, kissing me like a drowning man sucks in air. I was stunned. Two nights of him falling asleep from exhaustion and now this? We kissed hotly, mouths open, lips sliding across each other, for a long time. He rolled off of me and pulled me against him, never letting his mouth come away from mine.

He worked his way down my body, spent some time kissing my inner thighs, teased me briefly by licking my clit, then worked his way back up to my mouth.

 He started talking into my mouth, between kisses "Have you been a good girl? Because I'd like to punish you, but I don't want to if you've been good."

Tuesday, September 27, 2011


I've heard wonderful things about the Liberator wedge/ramp combo. I've been wanting one for a while. Looking around just now, I found that had a 20% off your first order + free shipping, and for some unknown reason they sell Liberator stuff. AND IT WAS PURPLE.

So I bought it. Squee! $192, all told. Don't come telling me you got a better deal. Just don't. Purple is worth a lot to me.

Monday, September 26, 2011

A question

My relationship with my husband is easy. It's always been easy. We belong to each other, and we always have, since before we met. I am his - completely, without a doubt. But he is mine too.

We might have misunderstandings once in a while, as humans are wont to do, and our drives for sex do not always match up, but by and large we are perfect together. I can tell him anything, absolutely anything. He can do anything with me and it will not affect his love for me. I wondered for a while if it would; if me submitting to him would somehow affect his opinion of me. It never has. He says all kinds of horrible things to me during sex, but still respects my opinion and my abilities to do most things even above his own. He has his areas of expertise, but I'm better than him at most things, and he's okay with and acknowledges that with wry amusement.

I have familial relationships, and I find them to be not so easy. Like walking on eggshells, some of them. Careful what you say in case it is taken the wrong way, careful how you hold your face or move your eyes in case it's taken a way you didn't mean it, because you know you'll never be able to convince the other person that the way they took it was not the way you meant it. After a while I begin to avert my eyes when answering questions because I'm afraid of eye contact expressing something I didn't mean - and that, too, is taken badly. I'm a grown woman! Why must it be like this?

What I want to know is this: What's normal? What's the majority relationship form factor? Easy, eggshells, or something in between?

A vacation interlude - stream of consciousness

Hotel shower. On my knees with the water running down. Hard to get a grip on the shower floor- knees sliding all the way to the edges. Sucking, sucking, holding on to him to keep myself up, sucking. Water running down his body sometimes going up my nose. Gasping for air, sucking again.

Bed. Bedside lamp on very dim. Face fucking. I begged for it. He stopped me after a time...beat my nipples with a ruler..fingered me. Told me I mustn't like being fucked much because I never asked for it. I asked for it. Several times.

Left me... bereft. "Where are you going?"

"Not far."

Stood up on the floor next to the bed, dragged me over to the edge. I lifted my hips up to him, begged. No purchase for my feet. Hard to lift on the edge..feet wanted to slide off. He teased me for several minutes like that, standing there, teasing me with his hot cock sliding around my wetness. Finally gave it to me after more begging. Scrabbling for purchase got harder as he rested more of his weight on me...hooked my ankles to each other around his back, using his body as my leverage to fuck back into him. Constant stream of moans coming from me.

This spurred words from his lips: "Oh, you like being all open to me like that, huh?" and I lifted my legs into the air...he hooked his arms behind my legs and I eventually put my ankles over his shoulders.

"You..are...such..a...slut." as he thrust into me with each word. He came soon after. He worked me with the dildo... I squirmed, sore. He stopped, got back onto the bed with me..then his thumb inside me while I was on my stomach with my ass in the air and his fingers played with my clit. Glorious. I orgasmed; shuddered in his arms. He held me, wrapped me in his love. We slept.

Oh yes he did

He remembered!

Ten minutes of cocksucking, ten minutes of snuggling with his arms and leg wrapped around me. Beautiful.

"Sweet sweet cocksucker," he said to me, after.

Yes, I watched him leave and told him to have a good day while I was so turned on I worried I was leaving a wet spot on the bed... but, so worth it!


Sunday, September 25, 2011

I was so excited

There's this thing I've been widely hinting at to my fantastic man. He hasn't really taken the hint.

I desperately want to blow him every morning before he goes to work. Or, even 3 out of 5 mornings. Or just one. I want to be able to bring him off, to suck his orgasm down my throat or have it all over my breasts or...wherever, without him worrying about anything like fucking me afterward - he normally holds back so much when he's fucking my face, just so that we can continue on and enjoy his cock in other ways afterward.

He worries it will drive me insane with desire.

This morning we woke up earlier than we had planned in the hotel room where we were staying. We had about 30 minutes, and he fondled me and we talked and our hands wandered all over each other, and then there was a lovely hard cock that my hand happened to brush against by accident. I tried to ignore it; I failed. I begged him to let me suck it. He told me I had sucked it last night already; I begged a little more. He relented.

He came down my throat about 20 minutes later. It was awesome. I breathlessly asked him "Have I mentioned how I'd like to do that every morning?" he said I had. Then, wonder of wonders, he said maybe a few times a week! I was a mass of exclamation points.

Then he got some bad news when he checked his phone, and it distracted him... who knows if he'll remember?

Friday, September 23, 2011

So much smut, so little time

I do have smut on the brain a lot. Anyway.

We are huge fans of the musical "Wicked," and in it there is a song called "For Good" - one of the best songs in the show, really. Yes, this is relevant. If you're not familiar with it you should totally listen to it.

Last night, my husband picked up a ruler and playfully whacked me on the ass with it.

"You're evil." I told him, laughing.

"I am what I am today because I met you," he said. I laughed, and he laughed too, and continued on "Who can say if I've been changed for the better..... I guess YOU can!"

I love this man.

A story for foreplay

My husband was pretty distracted the other night, and he couldn't focus on what we were doing. He asked me to tell him a sexy story, so I did (great sex then followed; that's another post). I wrote it out for him the next day, minus his interjections and questions, of course. This is the result. I apologize for the weak start; I was a bit shy at the beginning. Everyone have a great weekend!

Thursday, September 22, 2011


During the time this happened, (a few weeks ago) I had a cold sore on my lip. Kissing and cocksucking during this time are off limits - it's dangerous since casual contact with the sore can spread the virus, and who wants those things? I certainly don't. I generally get them when I stress out over something - not something I can actively control, but my stress response is sometimes triggered for odd reasons. This time it was a video game. Thankfully it was a small sore and healed up relatively quickly - I have had some large ones during very stressful life moments that took weeks to clear up.

I was cuddling up to my love, and he was holding me oh-so-tenderly, stroking my hair and face, and I was burying my face against his shoulder, enjoying the attention. He murmured: "I wish I could kiss you." and I whimpered my own agreement to this desire into his shoulder. He followed that up with a musing "It's not very nice of you to make yourself unkissable."

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

D/s sex in unlikely situations

(thanks to maui girl's comment on Neo Dom Tom's blog for this topic)

Thin walls, nearby people, desperate need for silence.

I once sucked my husband to completion in the back of a moving minivan with three other people in front. No one noticed. It was a long trip and it was chilly back there. I was already lying down under a blanket with my head in his lap.. he got hard, he kept humping my face.. naturally some sucking had to occur.

He's also forced orgasms from me with his hands in hotel rooms we were sharing with others (including my mom) while they were asleep. We fucked in the spoon position - very very slowly and quietly - in that situation as well. His hand on my throat, his constant whispers to be quiet, twisting my nipples hard as a way to quietly punish me if my noises rose above a squeak. It was very hot.

We are not exhibitionists. We have no desire to involve or discomfit other people with our activities. We didn't do these things for the thrill of it, but just because we can't actually keep our hands off each other. In the hotel situations it was because we actually had a bed to ourselves and that didn't happen very often at the time. So it would be a REALLY big deal if the other people found out. They never have.

Anyone else with similar experiences?

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

When is it not vanilla?

My husband actually posed this question to me recently, and I found I couldn't answer him.

Where is the vanilla line? If he grabs my hair during sex, does that make it not vanilla? If he moves me where he wants me, and I of course comply with it because doing what he wants turns me on, does that make it not vanilla? Does whispering "Take it, come on, take it" during sex make an otherwise vanilla experience BDSM? Does that even make any sense?

Is there a set of actions that is vanilla? Or is the entire range of vanilla actions already encompassed by TTWD? Is it like this:

Or is it like this?

I know they're not completely separate - they can't be. But are there things included in vanilla sex that no one involved in TTWD will do? I doubt it, which leans me more toward the first diagram. We have these labels, but I can't seem to properly define them. I say I enjoy vanilla sex with my man, but I'm not sure I even know what that is anymore.

Where do you draw the line?

My husband is a card

He posted something nice about me on facebook. I saw it and smiled a lot, told him he was sweet.

We went to our bedroom and he said on the way: "See, I thought if I said nice stuff about you on facebook, I might get laid."

"You did, huh?"
"Well, you might just be right.."
"What do you think my chances are?"
"Hmm... a hundred percent."
"Cool. What were my chances before?"
"A hundred percent."
"It's fun being married to you!"

Monday, September 19, 2011

Get out of my head already!

A few weeks ago, I had a strange dream.

(Isn't it funny how no one ever says "I had a perfectly normal dream?" Or just merely, "I had a dream." No, it's always strange, weird, funny, unsettling, or, perhaps if you're lucky, good.)

In this dream I got an email from an old flame, my first, who treated me badly and ended things without really ending them at all - he just stopped talking to me. It's a wound that has healed but left a permanent scar, and it doesn't help that he has a pretty common name. I have called him asshole, but I later realized that was an insult to assholes... seriously, what did an asshole ever do to deserve such a thing as being a detrimental name for a bad person?  We'll call him jerkwad, because that's my mom's favorite name for him.

So I got an email from jerkwad, and it was explaining why he ended things the way he did.

"I tried to take your submission slowly, but it just wasn't working." There was more, but it being a dream means I don't remember the rambling bulk of it, and just this one phrase sticks out in my memory.

To this my dream-self thought "WTF? I never offered my submission to this jerkwad. He can't take it from me. Of course it wasn't working."

Why would I dream a thing like this? To what end? I never even brought up the concept of submission to jerkwad. Why would it resurface in this manner over a decade later?

Clearly the dream is still bothering me. I keep worrying at it in my mind.

Anyone else with similar experiences? I don't want this guy in my head anymore, but he just lives there.

The submissive act

"Correct me if I'm wrong," he said to me, kissing the top of my head, "but wasn't there a time when this submissive act was something you only wanted sometimes?"

I had been nestled up to his side, purring happily with the closeness, stroking his chest. I stopped. I was completely silent for many many seconds, and then I said, quietly. "It's not an act."

"Well, for want of a better word.." he backtracked, correcting himself.

Too late, that seed had been planted. I exerted all of my willpower to remain open and nestled against him and not withdraw emotionally as well. "You're wrong." I told him, managing to say it lightly and with a grin. "Just because you didn't know it doesn't mean I didn't want it. I didn't want to be pushy and make you uncomfortable."

"I see. Kiss me." he said. I did. Things happened. I was well and thoroughly submissive.

After, he held me, my head on his shoulder. "It's not an act." I said again, a little breathless, still quiet.

"I know." He kissed the top of my head, clapping a nice set of bookends on the interaction.

He says he does. We've discussed this. I've told him how turned on I was at a young age by certain passages in unlikely well-known and well-loved books, that I won't even mention here because it's that weird. And I have been known to attribute him with far more complexity than he possesses - it could well be that he really couldn't think of a better word. I should probably take him at his word. But it's hard.

I think too much.

Sunday, September 18, 2011

The consequences of forgetting

This is long. I go a little overboard on the details. Apologies. Mmm.

He's told me not to wear pants to bed, but there's this period of time  after I bathe and before we go to bed when pants are necessary due to shared living space. They were long underwear this time, actually. He was brushing his teeth and doing other get-ready-for-bed things, and I, already having done all those things, slipped under the sheet and started reading my book. He joined me and started talking to me, slipped his hand under my shirt to stroke my breasts. He mentioned that I'd probably like a little more attention from him, more often, and I agreed.

"But you'll take what you get, won't you?" and I agreed with that as well. His hand wandered downward, then paused.

"What's this?" he asked, fingering the waistband.

Saturday, September 17, 2011


I stumble over blocks that I keep removing from our bedroom. Wooden blocks and plastic Duplo blocks. They really hurt when you step on them in the dark... and in the light too, come to think of it.

I say to my husband "Toys really do not belong in our bedroom."

Then I hear what I have just said, and I correct myself: "THESE toys really do not belong in our bedroom." We do make quite some effort to keep the bedroom for sleeping and sex, so that neither our sleep nor our sex suffers from distraction. Our child has other ideas.

But, speaking of toys...whee! I was at Lowe's today and I saw their yardsticks had been lowered in price - to $0.69. It amused me, considering the things one can use a yardstick for. Yes, I'm still a teenager.

In other news, today I got this: (but not from Lowe's)

Lelo - "Ella"

I'm intrigued. It's certainly an impressive piece of design... and it feels lovely to the touch. I have nothing further to add - yet.

Something even more different

Last night I was exhausted. I went to bed very very early, and I fell asleep waiting for my husband to come and join me. He woke me up and then a long, long sex session started, starting with a nice long lying-on-our-sides face-to-cock face fucking. He told me didn't care if I was asleep, that he needed to fuck and that's what was going to happen. This turned me on immensely. He kept changing what was going on, "to keep me awake."

"No sleep for you!" he kept saying, or "You'd better not be falling asleep!"

As if I could with the ass-beating and his hands on my throat from behind me, with his cock shoving into my ass to "keep me awake."

After this very long and exhausting bout of physical activity, during which I chased an but did not catch an orgasm, my brain was on overdrive and there was no chance I was going back to sleep. I also found a series of pains starting in my ovary and continuing on to my knee, ankle, and foot and they were intense enough that I started folding up and groaning, trying to make it stop. He held me and asked me what was wrong, and I told him. I was almost crying. I started begging him to make it stop. I took his hand and put it on my breast.

I feel the need to add here that, while I do enjoy him hurting me once in a while, I have never identified myself as a pain slut and he is certainly not a sadist. So, what happened next overwhelmed and surprised me.

He twisted my nipple sharply and then slapped my breast, hard. This wasn't new, I'd enjoyed that during sex before and he's "punished" me for too much cocksucking by beating me like this. I gasped. He hit me again. I was lying on my side cuddled up to him, and both my breasts were held up by my arm against the bed. His left arm held me close against him. He slapped me across both nipples, and I buried my face against his chest as he unleashed a torrent of blows against me. I found myself murmuring "hurt me, hurt me, yes, yes" each time he'd land a blow, or I'd moan. I was arching into his hands. He'd stop once in a while and stroke my flesh or squeeze my nipples. The other pains in my body were quickly receding from my consciousness. His lips sought out mine and we kissed as he kept hitting me and hitting me. I was gasping and toward the end of the forever each time he hit me I just breathed out "Oh God..." and occasionally "it hurts, it hurts."

I was writhing against him and I buried my face in his neck, a litany of "Oh God" escaping from me against his skin. My brain exploded. There was nothing in the whole world but the two of us. He stopped, and stroked my VERY VERY sensitive breasts gently.

"You hurt me," I whispered, kissing his shoulder.

"I won't hurt you anymore," he said, continuing to caress me. "How are your pains?"

I paused and took stock of myself. Just the ankle hurting again, which was a helluva lot better than what was going on before that. I told him as much. I kept my face buried against his neck, not wanting to look at him, not sure what had just happened.

"What have you done to me?" I asked him, in between "Oh God"s.

"I hurt you," he stated matter-of-factly, and stroked my hair, still gently rubbing my abused breasts.

"What have I done?" I queried, still quite overwhelmed by everything. "Oh God."

"You took it." He squeezed me even closer to himself, told me he loved me.

I told him I loved him too, and continued whispering "Oh God" for a while, and we drifted off to sleep.

I just don't know what came over us, but as a pain relief technique, it beats the hell out of acupuncture. (Ha, beats the hell out of..)

Friday, September 16, 2011

You don't say

Am I the only one who would find this amusing as a captcha for making a comment on a sex blog?  I hope not.

"Issa dong, k?"

Things I adore

  • My sexy awesome magnificent husband.
  • Going places with this aforementioned man. He's fabulous company. 
  • Curling up with my head on his shoulder and his arms wrapped around me with his left hand on my ass and the other holding the back of my head against him, his right leg over my hip and my left leg between his. My favorite place in the world.
  • Sucking his cock. Everything about it. The way it feels as my lips slide down over it, the noises he makes, his hands tightening in my hair. If it's not already hard when I start, feeling it harden and lengthen inside my mouth. (I rarely get to feel that one though.) The feeling of the head pressed into the opening of my throat. The insane amount of drool I generate from this activity. The noises that my throat makes without me doing anything at all when he presses in deeply enough. The way my voice sounds when I finally stop and pull away and haven't had enough air and the thrusting has pushed my voice all weird. Bonus points if we're comfortable and lying on our sides and he puts his leg over my shoulder. He has been known to punish me for not coming away from the cocksucking quickly enough when he asks.'s..right..THERE. So hard to stop. Nothing gets me wet like sucking his cock.
  • How he rests his hand on my thigh when I'm driving.
  • Any activity that involves him touching me, and hopefully me touching him back. Sex of any kind ranks very high here, naturally, but just sitting next to him with our feet rubbing against each other while watching TV is wonderful for me.
  • Turning him on. This is much harder than it used to be when we were young young, so just getting there is quite its own reward.
  • The moment when I think I can't stand something anymore, but he tells me to take it anyway, and I can/do.
  • Weekends. Oh, yes.