Tag Archives: sex

Sometimes…

Jul 11, 2019 | Posted by in Writing About Kink | 3

…things just feel good. Not good like the perfect strike of a whip, or the rope that cinches down just the right amount, though for sure those times feel good too. I’m talking about the times that just seem to be balanced, seem to hold you in this warm bubble of contentment, of rightness… I’m headed out for a “girl’s weekend” at a kink event in a neighboring town. I’m pretty damn excited, especially as I orchestrated the whole adventure. Someone I met at Kinky Kollege last year, and with whom I hit it off and had a delectable scene, and someone local that I consider a good friend as well as someone I’ve been hoping to play with, and I are all going together. It’s crazy, considering the fact that I’m the introvert here! But here we are, less than 24 hours away from spending the weekend together. I’mRead more …

Day 27 – A Musical Night

When it;s good, it’s very, very good. V came over last night. We went to listen to music at the Garden and have a little picnic; it was a pleasant evening, if a bit cold and wet, since it had stormed earlier. But at least the free concert wasn’t canceled – they have already canceled 3 out of the 4 weekly concerts due to rain so far this summer. One of the reasons V switched our date nights to be alternating Tuesday/Wednesdays was so that we could go to them – it’s a favorite summertime activity of mine – so the cancellations have been doubly disappointing. Anyway, in spite of the not-ideal conditions, it was nice, feeling like we were on a date. Walking back to the house afterward we got into the never-ending discussion we have regarding schedules, though. When we got to the front door I put myRead more …

#AtoZChallenge – V is for Viper

He’s talking in my ear, saying nothing really, just words to fill up the space between us. Between my hotel room and where he is. I interrupt. “Where are you? Right now. What are you doing?” A pause. “On the couch. Looking at the trees…” “Are you alone in the house?” “Yes. For the moment. E is shopping for the weekend.” “Then what are you doing on the couch?” Another, longer, pause. “Where should I be?” “Well,” I say, slow, thoughtful. “I think you should be upstairs. In the room we share. In the bed we sleep in when I am there. Where you can pull your cock out and stroke yourself.” “You do, huh?” He’s quiet a moment. “Feeling kind of bossy, are you? I think maybe we need to create a protocol for when you decide you want to be a bossy kitty.” Then, a moment later, “That’sRead more …

#AtoZChallenge – Q is for Questions

So this post started on…oh…Thursday? But here it is Saturday and since it IS Saturday, and since I am definitely giving the shout-out to some pretty amazing bloggers that happen to host some kick-ass memes, I’ll include this as a “Share Our Shit Saturday” post. We will not be silenced. Q is for Questions Questions, I have so many questions! I really do. About everything. Well, maybe not about “everything.” Mostly about people. What makes them (me) work, why we do the things we do, who we are and how we got here. Our motivations, our hopes and dreams and sorrows and joys. Things like that. This blog is mostly that kind of questioning. Introspection. Musing on the human condition thru my own experiences. Though sometimes I recognize it for the self-centered endeavor that it is. Me, my life, my thoughts… Except that I’ve seen the domino effect that meRead more …

Ask for It

Jan 30, 2019 | Posted by in Wicked Wednesday | 14

It’s 3 a.m. We’ve just climbed the stairs to bed after a night out, in which we’d had drinks and talked to people, but not played. I was too cold, and even when we got home, asked if we could just build a fire and cuddle on the couch until I got warmed up. I ended up falling asleep in his lap. “Get me a cane from the cane bag,” he says now. I had taken note that he had had me bring the cane bag up to the bedroom, something he seldom does. But it was 3 a.m. I looked askance at him. “The skinny white plastic one,” he said. I hunt through the cane bag, a little shiver going through me. I know the cane he’s talking about: thin, hard plastic. Short but severe. I bring it back to the bed where he is laying on his back,Read more …

The Mechanics of Sex

Jan 16, 2019 | Posted by in Wicked Wednesday, Writing About Kink | 6

When I read the title of the prompt for this week’s Wicked Wednesday, I thought maybe it meant “technologically enhanced” sex. Like…I don’t know, with toys maybe, or VR if you’re really adventurous, or maybe fiction about sex with an android (or AS an android…a sex bot maybe? Hmm, liking that idea…) Anyway, seeing as one of my partners is definitely a technophile, I figured I could come up with something that would appeal to him and satisfy the prompt. Turns out I was wrong: the prompt is, “What technical aspect of sex do you find challenging?” Oh, well hell, there’s a lot of ways I could go here. How certain positions that everyone seems to love don’t work for me, such as 69; How the changes in my body, in its flexibility, has caused me challenges; or How certain kinds of sex (like sex in rope) that my partnerRead more …

Two Weeks-at-a-Glance

I started using a daily journaling app on my phone so I can quickly jot down what I do each day. Not journaling like here, but more bullet points to jog my memory. Or that I can refer back to when I’m struggling to remember what the heck I did last Thursday, or what happened on a certain play date (“Was that the time you made me push the ball around on the floor, or the time I had to roll the dice to see what implement you were going to use next?”) The cool thing is that it connects with my calendar, the gps on my phone, with Facebook and my photos app automatically. It has an activity feed that shows where I was when, and pulls in any FB posts or pictures I took, and then I review it, decide if I want to keep it, or atRead more …

Hello, kitty

Jul 10, 2018 | Posted by in Writing About Kink | 2

We were on the phone, chatting about when we’d see each other later that night. He was coming to my house, and I was excited to have him in my space, as I always am. “Do you have any strong preferences for how you’d like the night to go?” he asked. “N-o-o…” I replied, chewing my fingernail. I want to play! was what I wanted to say, but I didn’t want to be pushy. “I can make pasta for dinner, though, if you want to eat in.” I thought about what I might wear. Maybe I could show him I wanted to play… “Is your roommate home tonight?” “I don’t know about later,” I replied, “but she has an appointment right after work, so if she is home, it won’t be until after 8.” “Okay,” he said. I waited for more. Finally, since he didn’t seem to want to beRead more …

Round Two

Jul 2, 2018 | Posted by in Masturbation Monday | 3

We laid in bed, the sheets and our limbs in a tangle, the cold rectangles of light from the uncovered windows by turns illuminating and throwing shadows across our bodies. A sheen of perspiration coated our skin, testament to earlier exertions in that very bed. Earlier we had played in the new basement. It wasn’t the first time we’d played there, but it was the first time we’d orchestrated a “scene” rather than have it happen randomly, organically. I’d gotten some whacks, felt the blunt trauma of steel sex toys shoved inside me, ass and cunt, felt the brutal impact of the Viper against my flesh. And then… Fucking. Honestly, I don’t exactly remember the first fucking. The last time we’d fucked he had denied me release, over and over again, while I begged and pleaded, all the while knowing he wouldn’t give in. This time? I’d have to askRead more …

June 20 – Release

Jun 20, 2018 | Posted by in Every Damn Day in June, Fictions, Wicked Wednesday | 1

Her Story She trembles on the edge, biting her lip in an agony of straining muscles, strangled breath, quivering limbs. She wants it so badly, craves that fall over the edge into ecstasy, after the delicious torment of the climb up, after the pleasure has rolled and twisted like a ball inside of her, dragging her up and up and into this space, to this moment, where she hangs for an eternity. She pants and her fingers dance over her clit, stroking, circling, teasing, then pressing hard as she feels the pressure begin to build. She backs off deliberately when she knows the release is inevitable: stalling, stalling. Teasing; tormenting; holding herself back from the edge. This is the place, the moment, she loves, almost as much as she loves the actual release, that sweet explosion, when it comes. Holding it back is an exquisite torment. Up and down thatRead more …