Microfantasy Monday - Silence

This wonderful enlivener to the most dreaded of workdays is brought to you by Ang, the Sweltering Celt - thanks Ang!


“How many items?”

I glance over the clothes draped over my arm. “Six.”

“This way please.” She glances back at me over her shoulder as she leads me to a dressing room, smiles slyly and… was that a wink?

She holds the door open for me as I walk through. “Here, let me help you hang those up.” A quick glance around and she’s behind me through the door, swinging it shut behind her. She yanks the clothes out of my hands and tosses them onto a corner of the bench, then swings me around by the shoulders and slams me up against the door hard enough to make it rattle. Her grin is mischievous, yellow-hazel eyes gleaming from a face framed by glossy black hair.

I blink, and then her lips are on mine, crushing, tasting, biting, soothing and riling. My own clothes join the samples on the bench. Hers join mine. Skin joins skin. The smoothness of her palms, seeking fingers. My eyes go wide and I gasp as they find what they seek.

Before my gasp can be released, though, her other hand is over my mouth, smothering the moan about to escape, smothering the breath about to whoosh out. My eyes go wide as the pressure from her palm and fingers arrows right to my cunt.

“Shhhh,” she whispers. “I’m on the clock!”

When It All Builds Up, Then Spills Over

I have a confession to make.

I am a sex blogger who doesn’t like to be fucked all that often.

Yes, yes, I know. Blink a few times, shake your head to clear it, let’s move on now shall we?

The thing is… one of the things that gets my rocks off the most is anticipation. Letting the desire and frustration build to a nigh unbearable point and then jumping recklessly off the cliff into the wonderfully turbulent sea below. I love to let days or even weeks of hot dreams, dirty texts, teasing and allllmost-but-not-quite-getting-there build up to the boiling point before satisfaction is finally achieved.

What’s really great about all this is that M and I seem to be settling into… well not so much a routine, really, but a style that works for us. See, M has come to the conclusion that penetration really does not work for him – which, uh, makes sense given the circumstances. And that works for me because I love to give him clit orgasms. I get more of a reaction out of him by playing with his clit – the sounds he makes, the looks he gets on his face… all better when I jack him off than when I fuck him.

Also wonderful is that when I’m not in a receiving mood, I can push him back and get him off – which, oh hey by the way, is one of those things that builds me up to my boiling point! In addition, when he is satisfied (which it seems he needs more often than I do), he is less likely to want to pin me down and fuck me, which… oh hey by the way, gives me more time to build up to my boiling point! So basically, we’re both really finding what works for us in terms of giving the other what he/she wants. And, well… the other night, this whole grand theory was proven in a big way.

I’d reached my boiling point.

It had been building probably for a good two weeks at least. My dreams weren’t helping, nor was each and every time I got M off – I mean really, you can’t imagine how hot that is. Nor was the evening I spent with J. Nor was the evening M and I spent at our friend’s birthday party – the night I got tied up. It all built. And built. And built.

Finally, the morning after the party, it boiled over, and I got some of the best sex ever. It was long lasting, it was rough, it was multi-orgasmic, and I was as limp as an overcooked noodle afterward, except for the muscles of my face stretching into one very satisfied smile. Hell, even M was out of breath.

There is one very interesting phenomena that occurs when I am well and truly horny – like boiling point horny. Usually my nipples are very sensitive. Well, it would be better to say they are usually extremely sensitive, to the point where they are generally untouchable. But when I get that horny, they desensitize and a person could do just about whatever they wanted to do with them. They go from untouchable to practically begging to be pinched, bitten, pulled, twisted… you name it.

Yes, I was that horny.

But I think M took care of that, and took care of it very well.

:-D

Who's That Creepin' in the Window?

In light of it being one week and one day after my glasses-forsaking LASIK surgery, I bring you:

My eye, unobscured.

Happy HNT, y'all.

Rope Bondage

This past Saturday night was the birthday party for one of the local Doms in the scene and one whom I truly count as a friend. Being that it was a bunch of kinksters throwing the party for him, it naturally was also a play party. And man did we play!

This experience is notable for the fact that the house where the party was held has a smallish outbuilding in the back yard that the owners have converted into a play room complete with rigging equipment. So of course the theme of the night was bondage, although I must say some very impressive spanking and flogging also occurred, since the birthday Dom’s sub had to take every one of the Dom’s birthday spankings. :D

But I digress. Bondage was the theme of the night. My interest in rope bondage has been piqued for a while, but not having any opportunities to try it, I simply held that interest in check until such an opportunity arose. Well, one arose that night.

M told me later that the Dom in charge of the rope rigging had been eyeing me for a good portion of the night, I think because I had expressed some interest in the process. So finally M stood me up (by tricking me into thinking I was just standing up to hug him, I might add) and after some playful struggle, rope was applied.

It was quick. It was simple. We’re not talking any breathtaking masterpiece of shibari or anything. But it was fun. Being able to wiggle only my fingers since my arms were bound to my sides and my wrists were bound to each other – it was a kind of simple playfulness. The rigging Dom and M then laid me back and bound my ankles to a spreader bar, and then hooked the bar up to a ringbolt high up on the wall. That was fun, just kind of swaying my lower body back and forth.

At that point they began to untie me, which was kind of disappointing because I was enjoying myself! They could have done more and I would have been happy with it. There will always be next time, though. And I definitely want there to be a next time, because I really enjoyed myself. Rope bondage is definitely a fetish I could get into!

Microfantasy Monday - Growth

He used to have a clit. But why would so fine a man be satisfied with a small, delicate nub of eager nerves? All that is changing now.

His mini-cock throbs and swells beneath my touch as he moans, his head falling back on the pillows. It stands to attention as I run my fingers along the shaft which before had been entirely hidden beneath the veil of a clitoral hood. His moans turn to gasps and deep, guttural utterances of mindless pleasure.

His cock is growing. And the new man behind the cock is growing on me.



Thanks as always to the Sweltering Celt for providing us this excellent Monday distraction!

A Femme on a Budget

To quote the wise and everlasting Kermit the Frog… it isn’t easy being femme! You know what’s even tougher than being femme? Being a femme on a budget.

To put it simply, being fabulous costs money. And when you don’t really have money that isn’t going towards bills and taking care of family (even if the family consists only of fur-kids), it’s hard to be fabulous! Let me tell you, I get edgy when I’m craving new tops or shoes and I can’t afford them. Or even when I need new work clothes because mine are all getting worn down from so much use, and I still can’t afford it. To be frank… it sucks!

So really, what is a femme to do when she can’t afford to clothe herself as a queen? Well, Bahamadia says it right: she gets her shopping on in Wal-Mart and dollar stores. (Oh, and I want to add eBay to that list. The world can be bought at a cheap price on eBay, as long as you know how not to get yourself ripped off.) For example, last night I bought two pairs of insanely cute shoes – one basic black fabric Mary Jane style, wearable for work and anywhere else, and a pair of green polka dot slingback flats that couldn’t be more perfect for the upcoming summer – for less than $15 total. The green pair were already on clearance for $7.00, and all clearance items in the store were going for an extra 50% off this weekend, so that amounted to less than four dollars for a pair of shoes that literally made me squee when I saw them. Now THAT is how to make a frugal femme happy.

So yeah, we less financially comfortable femmes have more work to do. We can’t just walk into Tiffany’s or Saks Fifth Avenue and charge all the fabulosity we want on our American Express. But it’s doable if you know where to look and how to shop wisely. For me, discount stores are my friends, sales are my love and clearance is the Holy Grail of my consumer existence.

And in the end, much like a double bacon cheeseburger after weeks of cheap ramen noodles, finding femme perfection on the shelves after long, torturous bouts of window shopping is sweet, sweet satisfaction.

A Very Marked HNT

I thought this picture was too wonderful not to share - and who doesn't love a tongue-in-cheek HNT every now and then, huh?



I would say, "Rest assured, that's not my arm," except that while it's not mine, it's M's! And nooo, unfortunately those lovely markings were not from me or J... they were from a 12-week old kitten! See the little reddish specks? Yeah - tooth marks. Kittens may be cute and fuzzy... but they're lethal! ;)

Oh, and all that hassle was over a simple nail trim. *snort* Go figure!