The Beast With Two Backs

I had fun writing about how sex and laughter go together and it felt like the perfect opportunity to describe one of the funniest sexual experiences I’ve ever had for this week’s Thursday nostalgia post.

There’s a trope with online dating that all men lie about their height and say they are 6 foot. Despite being a fairly early adopter of online dating, I’d never had it happen to me and so secretly wondered if it was really true.

I am fairly ambivalent about men’s heights and I rarely looked too much at them in the descriptions on online profiles so didn’t really notice that the guy I’d arranged to meet for drinks was exactly 6 foot tall. Plus I was distracted by the fact I was running late for our date because I was stuck behind Hare Krishnas on Oxford Street on a day that was unexpectedly too warm for the boots I was wearing.

I arrived fifteen minutes late, incredibly flustered and slightly sweaty to find him sitting as cool as cucumber in the dark basement bar I’d picked out and he stood up from the stool and I realised I’d met my first fake six footer in the flesh. Except this guy just kept going as he stood up. He’d lied to make himself seem smaller than his full 6 foot 6 inches.

Turns out women can be a bit Goldilocks when it comes to height and like their men not too small, not too tall but just right. I on the other hand just like them funny and quite filthy so we hit it off immediately and spent the rest of the afternoon getting quite drunk before deciding to go back to mine to fuck.

We tumbled tipsily through my front door in broad daylight and started getting frisky on the sofa quite quickly. I’d just had a glimpse of his well muscled and heavily tattooed lower legs and felt his very well sized erection against my thigh when we realised we had no condoms.  He very chivalrously put his jeans back on and went out to the shop to buy some.

While he was doing so I realised I was less co ordinated through booze than I’d thought and having difficulty getting my boots off. Not wanting to end up flustered and sweaty in front of him for the second time that day, I used the doorstep to pull them off and slipped out of my skinny jeans too so that when he arrived back he only had to pull my knickers down and put the condom on so we could fuck.

I might not be a height queen per se but I do love the weight of a man on top of me. Something about it makes me want to sink into the bed, wrap my legs round his back to pull him deeper inside me to maximise the weight and make sure he fucks me all the harder.

And with a guy this tall and well built, I was in my element. That delicious weight going straight to my cunt. I had my legs almost round his neck and my eyes closed enjoying that filled up being fucked senseless feeling when something felt odd enough to make me open my eyes. And just as I did I saw a fairly well sized slug drop from my curled in pleasure toes onto his bare back.

I tried to manoeuvre my foot down a little bit as if changing position to see if I could brush the slug off onto the bed but it turns out slugs are less malleable than you might think for a strip of muscle. My cover up attempt just managed to push the slug onto his arse cheeks.

I don’t know if he felt it on him or because the thought of it all began to give me the giggles in that way that makes it hard to breathe without laughing more, but he opened his eyes too at this point and saw my foot still trying to flick the slug away and asked if everything was ok.

It’s hard not to be compulsively honest with someone when you’re quite drunk and they’ve got their dick inside you and between sobs of laughter I managed to tell him there was a rogue slug on his bare arse. I think I even managed to explain that it must have come from the doorstep when I had taken my boots off.

He took it better than I expected, alternately reaching his hand behind him and trying to seek out the slug and leaning his weight back on it so he could keep fucking me. It was quite something watching such a big burly man battle his horniness and his disgust. But despite twisting and turning and slug hunting, he kept fucking me in a deep steady rhythm that actually managed to make me less hysterical and make me come.

A combination of calming me down and feeling me come round his cock made him come hard and collapse on top of me rather than hold himself up anymore. For a few moments I wasn’t sure if he was still coming or laughing and then I realised when he flapped his hand behind him again that he was in fact laughing almost as hard as I had been earlier.

This set me off again and we lay like this for several minutes before he managed to pick himself up and we found the offending slug cosied up in the duvet. I brought a tissue for the condom and one for the slug and both went in the bin while he showered any snail trails off him.

I expected him to shower and make his excuses to get away from crazy slug lady but not only did he come back to bed we met up again four or five times again as fuck buddies. He never let me live it down though making me go on top and keep my feet where he could see them next time…

The Beast With Two Backs

Got the Giggles

In many ways I take sex very seriously. It’s a massive part of my relationship with my Master and Princess, it’s been the source of many of my biggest life events, a way to meet people and one of my most long enjoyed hobbies. I’m the sexual equivalent of those people you’d describe as a ‘foodie’.

Yet I also have a tendency to laugh while I’m having sex. Not at anyone I’m having sex with I hasten to add because that would make me an asshole above anything else but I have always found laughter during around having sex a fundamental part of how I have sex.

Part of this is because sex is intrinsically hilarious to me if you think about it. Imagine yourself describing the act of sex to an alien that had just landed from outer space and didn’t understand humanity. It sounds both baffling and hilarious when you spell the whole thing out as something we do for pleasure (and spend so much our energies on generally.)

Sex involves doing intimate and slightly awkward things with other people and it’s fraught with the possibility of embarrassment and vulnerability and definitely some bodily fluids. All these things can be nerve wracking and the best antidote to that is laughter. If you can’t laugh with someone you probably shouldn’t be naked with them is a rule I’ve always lived life by.

And sex is fun. People laugh when they are having fun. It’s a natural part of human interaction and for me it really adds to the enjoyment of sex. It’s the bit that smoothes over the fact I can’t tell my left from right when I’m trying to get into a certain position or makes the moment I fell off on the bed funny rather than a break in the proceedings. And it’s really the only way to handle it when someone else walks in on you mid fuck.

But I also laugh when I’m out of my depth sexually and want to make myself feel less awkward. Giggling is a reflex when I’m not sure how to else to respond. Like when Princess sticks her tongue in my mouth or licks my face. I dissolve into the kind of laughing that means I just don’t have any other ideas what to do. It’s as bratty as I can get basically squirming away from that or when my Master touches the soles of my feet.

I used to be so super serious submissive with him that I was practically formal. Some of that trying to concentrate on the specific kinky act we were up to at the time because for example bursting out laughing when someone is trying to fist you is incredibly off putting. But a lot of it was because the kink and BDSM scene talks about kinkiness as something almost sacredly serious that can never be light hearted or you aren’t doing it ‘properly’.

For someone who takes sex and submission seriously in that it’s an intrinsic part of who I am and who had struggled to feel kinky ‘enough’ for a long time, the idea of not being seen to serve my Master ‘properly’ really bothered me. It was important to prove that my submission was serious and that my Master mattered to me and I didn’t think I could do that if I was giggly or silly while I submitted.

I’m not suggesting that I start doing stand up or making puppets out of rope while I’m submitting to Sir, but I really like that I’m getting better at being more light hearted with him. We’ve always been good at teasing each other while we’re fully dressed but I like that I don’t feel like I don’t have to be so stiff and formal any more to perform my submission. Instead I feel more confident in being able to be kinky in the way I feel comfortable with.

Also it seems ridiculous that since my Master and Princess make me happy in so many others that I wouldn’t show that while we’re actually being sexual. Plus I’m sure that getting the giggles helps with orgasms too…

 

Got the Giggles

Submitting

Princess is away for a few days visiting friends and my Master and I were at a loose end without her to entertain us. Our minds both went to latex and submission almost instantly as an answer to our dilemma of what to do with ourselves.

It wasn’t much of a debate for me whether I should wear the latex stockings or my catsuit for Sir. Princess does not care for the feel of full latex (although she seemed not to be put off by me wearing the stockings the first time we fucked) so it seemed appropriate to make the most of a more receptive audience and dress right up for Sir.

I’ve spoken before about how my mindset for submission starts long before my Master walks into my house. It begins with deciding what to wear for Sir and builds with each deliberate act as I dress from sliding into latex to tightening my corset. Each act excites my mind and my cunt so that by the time I’m on my knees waiting for my Master I’m ready to be completely submissive.

And he built me up very nicely indeed with fifteen minutes riding the John Holmes toy on my living room before he let himself into my flat and took charge so that within seconds I was sucking his cock while still holding that huge toy in my cunt. Unfortunately while my cunt and mouth were incredibly willing, all that time on my knees had made my legs go to sleep and I couldn’t hold my position like I wanted.

So while chuckling at my misfortune Sir used the clear cut logic of a man getting his cock sucked and simply knelt down to make it easier for me to keep him in my mouth. I’m not sure he’s ever knelt in front of me before but not only did it feel incredibly subversive in the circumstances, it also made his cock feel incredible between my lips too.

Unlike Princess who has the skill needed to completely swallow Sir’s cock when she sucks him, I do not enjoy deepthroat and struggle to take cock too deeply as the act of gagging is not sexually enjoyable to me and tends to simply make me panicky. But at this angle of my Master’s cock being lower down than usual I was able to comfortably and confidently take his cock much further into my throat than normal and really savour it.

I haven’t just concentrated on sucking Sir’s cock for ages and I’d forgotten just how much I enjoy it. He tasted particularly good and I was quite happy when he moved from his knees to the sofa so I could just keep on using my mouth on him. The angle wasn’t just as deep but it still felt fantastic to me and judging by the sounds Sir was making he was thoroughly enjoying it too.

I would actually have been quite happy if Sir had told me to keep riding the toy inside me as I rocked my body back and forwards on my knees with his cock in my mouth and that he was going to come in my mouth. But I also didn’t object either when he ordered me off his cock and onto the toy as deeply as possible and told me to see if I could make myself come like that without touching myself or him.

I wasn’t sure if I could until he told me that under my blindfold he was watching me on my knees and stroking his cock in rhythm to me riding the toy. With that image in my head I couldn’t have held myself back from coming unless he’d pulled the toy out of my cunt to physically stop me. Few things go straight to my cunt more than the thought of my Master stroking his own cock.

Unless of course it’s my Master ordering me onto my hands and knees on the sofa and using his cock to fuck my John Holmes stretched cunt while using my corset to pull me closer onto his cock and feeling his whole body press and push against me with each motion. That goes so deeply to my cunt that it didn’t long to feel another orgasm building.

But I’d missed him using my corset like that to completely dominate and overwhelm my whole body and I wanted to make the most of every moment of it, stopping myself from coming to really feel his weight and warmth of his skin against the latex I was wearing. I only let myself come when he ordered me to stop holding back and came so hard my arms and legs gave way under me and I sprawled face first into the sofa cushions.

My Master pulled me back to my hands and knees with the corset and fucked me deeply to the point of plenty of noise and another orgasm for me before coming so hard into me that there was no way I could stop his come dripping out of me and down the shiny black latex I was wearing.

You know you have the right Dom in your life when you can enjoy the incredibly hot sound of his fresh come dripping out of you onto latex and the ground beneath you while you both catch your breath with his cock still inside you and then laugh together about the state of my upholstery afterwards….

Submitting

Near Miss

I’ve been enjoying re-living the men I’ve fucked in the past for the last few weeks here as a little Thursday nostalgia trip but this week I thought I’d shake things up a little bit with a man I didn’t consider I’d fucked at the time.

Back in my 100% straight days I had the heterosexual special view of sex that with men and women it had to be penis in vagina to count for me. Some of this attitude was social conditioning (see how society views the concept of virginity for example) and some was an arbitrary rule to keep my already socially very unacceptable number that little bit lower.

Surely oral didn’t count? Or not actually having an orgasm? Maybe not being completely naked? Had we been formally introduced? Did he pay me? I wasn’t ashamed per se but slightly overwhelmed I think. So if his dick hadn’t penetrated my cunt, it didn’t count in those days. My mileage has changed somewhat since.

I wasn’t really debating the finer points of sexual politics though when I met him. I was on a work night out with all my colleagues and hating every single second of it. It was how I imagine hen dos are without the aggressive penis branding. All Saturday night shrieking and I went to hide at the bar instead of joining the table service shots.

I got chatting to a tall broad shouldered handsome man with a voice like velvet and hands like paws. He was Norwegian and a carpenter and a million times more interesting and soothing than Flaming Sambuccas. And as luck would have it free the next night for drinks. I escaped back to my co workers without them spotting him and arranged to meet him in my favourite hipster Shoreditch bar.

I was a bit nervous when I went to meet him. I was worried he’d seemed much more handsome and alluring because I had been in such a bad mood the night before. Maybe he’d be dull and my standards had been low. Perhaps he was blonder and more wholesome than I recalled?

I needed have worried. His hair and conversation were just the right shade of dirty and the evening flew by in a haze of strong cocktails and intense flirting. I ended up sitting on his lap on a sofa in the bar and even if it hadn’t been closing time on a Sunday night, that was the cue to go home together.

He lived nearby in a beautiful flat unsurprisingly full of  wood and stylish furniture he’d made himself. He led me round by the hand giving me a full tour and somehow setting the pace for the rest of the night it seemed. He guided me into the kitchen, pressing me against the wooden worktops as he opened the fridge and handed me a bottle of very expensive champagne to open.

I was literally twisting the bottle and edging the cork out when he said ‘by the way, you should probably know now that I’m impotent’. There was the merest breath of a pause as his words filled the kitchen and the cork fizzed off the bottle over my hand with the most inappropriately judgemental sound I’d ever heard and a timing you simply couldn’t fake.

Still holding the champagne and suddenly sober I reached up and kissed him, half horny, half desperate not to make things awkward. It was the right thing to do. I felt him imperceptibly relax and kiss me back. What could have been a cold shower suddenly got very hot

Next thing I knew he was lifting me up onto the kitchen counter and pulling my underwear down and his face was pressed into my soaking wet cunt. I was still holding the bottle of champagne and being drunk on both nerves and booze, leaned back with my legs wide open and pussy pressed up into his face and let him lick me to an orgasm while I drank champagne straight out of the bottle.

Champagne and cunt taste excellent together when you kiss someone straight from yourself and we continued kissing and him making me come repeatedlly with his tongue and fingers on the sofa til the bottle was empty as we took turns to swig from it before we eventually fell asleep like that.

I woke up a few hours later on the sofa alone and realised he’d gone to bed without trying to move me or even cover me up and sensed that he wanted me and my knowledge of his body gone. I hunted in the semi darkness of the kitchen for my underwear and left without it when there was no sign.

In the brighter light of the street it really couldn’t have been more obvious that I was doing a Monday morning walk of shame. My bare legs and bare cunt felt like bare faced embarrassment at the bus stop especially when I had to stand in the crush and sway of the lower deck at rush hour because I’d have committed public indecency if I’d tried to walk up the stairs.

All I could tell myself was that it would have been more awkward to have stayed and exchanged small talk with him over the empty champagne bottle on the living floor. My justification to my flatmate that I hadn’t fucked him was how I attempted to save face…

Near Miss

Born This Way

I have always wondered if I was wired differently to most women. Not only do I seem to be more highly sexed than many of them, I also love love love penetration. The harder and deeper the better. I will always pick penetration over clit stimulation. Fingers, fist, toys or cock. My cunt loves to be filled up.

Other women seem to have limits in comparison and I always wondered if I was somehow weird compared to them but was it nature or nurture? Do I like penetration so much because I’m so highly sexed or am I so highly sexed because I’m used to getting fucked so hard?

I might never unravel the dilemma completely but I did discover today that I am genuinely wired differently to many women. I went for my scheduled smear test and learned all kinds of new things about my own cunt in the process. It turns out that my actual vagina is much longer than most women’s and my cervix tilts really far back and slightly off to one side.

According to the nurse, that combination makes tampons extremely difficult as they have to go in much further to actually do their job but she also winked and said it made me ‘very accommodating’ in other ways. Basically I’ve got more depth to take dick or any other object and there’s no chance of it hitting my cervix and creating a sexual cul de sac. I’m literally built to be fisted frankly.

I may be the only person who’s ever laughed during a smear test when I realised what the nurse meant. Not only is it reassuring to get a medical check that stretching myself isn’t causing any issues but it’s incredibly encouraging to find that I’m built to keep pushing further and further.

I wonder what my Master will do with that endorsement….

Born This Way

Come Together

I’ve never been one for associating music with sex. I’ve never really understood that whole ‘our song’ thing and back in my teens and twenties when music was much more a part of my day to day, my tastes didn’t really suit sex unless you could move like your life depended on it. I was also put off by the occasions men would pick a soundtrack to fuck to, never sure if it was worse to hear ‘Let’s Get It On’ for the millionth time or the utterly jaw-dropping choice of Sham 69’s ‘Evil Way’ once*.

But the other night my Spotify Discover Weekly came up with The Beatles ‘Come Together’ and it definitely made me think of my Master and Princess. How could I not with the lines “He say. One and one and one is three. Got to be good looking ’cause he so hard to see. Come together right now over me”?

It’s not often songs reference three people without one of them being a home wrecker so that certainly tickled me as much as the title summons up filthy images. One of the best things I’m finding about a  long term sexual relationship is that sense of knowing someone so well you can adapt to them and have those simultaneous orgasms that most people think only exist in films.

Both my last threesomes with my Master and Princess ended with us all coming at the same time first with her watching my Master fuck me stupid and then with me watching her take three cocks at once and him coming in her mouth as I made myself come with the Doxy.

Princess is by no means the cock slut I am so when she took a huge extender that Sir had bought to fuck me more open with and started fucking herself with it while his cock was buried in me both Sir and I were very pleasantly surprised.

I’d started her off with the pink toy in her cunt and she clearly wanted more, filling herself up with the extender and taking advantage of its open side to slide a second cock inside it to push two fingers inside to get her going while she watched Sir fuck me for the second time that day.

My cunt was so well fucked after his cock twice and the Doxy once that unusually I wasn’t quite as greedy for cock as normal and unable to take my Master as deep as is my habit. Princess however wasn’t filled up enough with the extender and put the pink toy inside it to help fuck herself harder as she rode both on her knees and begged for the Doxy on her clit too.

Sir is always scrupulously fair with us both and always makes sure we both get fucked equally so if he hadn’t taken himself out of my cunt and into Princess’s mouth then and there, I would have felt greedy keeping him all to myself considering how desperate for dick she was.

Lying on her back with the double toy in her cunt and Sir’s cock deep in her mouth, she’s rarely looked sluttier and I can’t remember if Sir told me or I couldn’t help myself and I lifted the Doxy onto her clit while she swallowed him and fucked herself in tandem. I knew exactly when to turn the wand up so she would come and open her mouth even wider and wetter for Sir to come into.

Watching both of them change pace, catch their breath, tense their muscles, make noise and deepen in concentration was so fucking hot to see. There’s no boredom in knowing the pitch and sway of their orgasms so well, no sense of ‘seen it all before’ but more the flow of a well rehearsed performance piece coming (literally) together.

It meant I knew exactly when to press the Doxy full power on Princess’s achingly greedy cunt and lean against them both so that the vibrations of the toy and the way she lifts her hips when she comes would go straight to my cunt and make me come at the same time they both did. Pitch perfect timing even with the element of  surprise of Princess being so cock hungry for once.

The only thing that would have been hotter than that synchronicity is if Sir had actually “come together right now over me” and come over Princess’s face or tits instead so I could see it even more clearly than in her mouth. We might need an encore next time….

 

*Spoiler alert: someone actually played me this song while we fucked and my orgasm curled up, died and moved to Australia. Just seeing the lyrics is bad enough but it’s sung in a mock Cockney accent that could wilt a dildo.

Come Together

Home Sweet Home

These days the housing crisis in London is such that landlords can abuse it by putting adverts for a free room and board if you fuck them and some women are so desperate for somewhere to live that they feel they have no choice. These men are predators and I hope the women involved at least sew prawns into the curtains when they leave.

They also make me feel a tiny bit guilty about the time I fucked my landlady’s husband when I was first living in London. Not because I was under any pressure about housing but because he was actually quite attractive and I could basically which formed a lot of my sexual decision making when I was 24.

His wife had been given our rented house as an ‘investment portfolio’ by her mum who owned a lot of property in the area and she wasn’t especially overjoyed to discover the work that came with being a landlady so while she stayed out in the suburbs being a stay at home mum, she sent her husband who worked in the city round to deal with us.

It started innocently enough that he’ call round to collect a rent cheque or look at a problem and join all of us in the house for a glass of wine before catching his train home. Then one night around Christmas he crashed on our sofa too pissed after the works do to go home and we sort of didn’t mind him occasionally using the place as a crash pad as it got our rent cashed quicker.

I tended to be round the house more as I worked much more irregular hours than my flatmates and I was the one who could deal with practical stuff like boilers and taps so we talked more. And then the talking expanded on his part into the classic ‘my wife doesn’t understand me’ stuff. How he hated commuting, didn’t know his kids, felt his wife was only interested in his salary.

I forgot I wasn’t his friend nor was I still actually a sex worker and that I didn’t have to listen to this stuff for free but I liked him and I could see he had genuine worries that a friendly ear would help with. We ended up having dinner a couple of times and then I think he panicked that it looked like an affair and kept his distance for a few months.

Then one night he was there when I came home on the invitation of another one of my flatmates. I happened to know that everyone else in my house was out for the night because I’d just left them in the pub after just enough early evening wine to make me impulsive.

I poured him a glass of wine while he fixed the kitchen tap or whatever he had come to do and we chatted slightly awkwardly. Our kitchen was tiny and you could barely stand without touching anyway and the proximity and wine and discussing why he’d been avoiding me all came together and the next thing I knew he was lifting me up and kissing me while carrying me toward the kitchen table.

He laid me down on the table and was on top of me kissing me and it was hot. He was one of those men in his early forties who was ageing well and worked the silver fox look and I could feel a surprisingly good body from him being on top of me. I wanted to fuck him. He wanted to fuck me.

But first I wanted to suck his cock because if there’s one thing married men whose wives don’t understand them always want, it’s their cock sucked. I started pulling his trousers off and was delighted to see that he had a beautiful cock. Long, just the right side of thick and incredibly hard, it was just the kind of cock I wanted in my mouth.

I wriggled round on the kitchen table so my head was hanging over the edge slightly and looking up at him on my back so he could stand and dip his cock into my mouth. This is a good way to take someone’s cock for deep throat but I didn’t take him in that far. Firstly I’m not a fan and secondly, I think if I had he’d have come instantly.

Instead I opened my mouth wide and licked his cock lazily before sucking on his balls to tug at them before slipping his cock in and out of my my mouth so that I could really tighten my lips up and down him to make him moan and gasp. He was so close to coming and each time he seemed to lose control I’d loosen my mouth and flick my tongue round and lick him lazily again.

I hadn’t decided if I’d fuck him or let him come in my mouth this way since I was in my kitchen with no condoms to hand and was mentally running through my head where the closest ones were before I decided. Then I remembered I had some in my bag lying in the hall outside the kitchen.

I pushed myself off the table by taking his cock as deep as I could and then using my tongue to push him out of my mouth so he stepped backwards and jumped off the table explaining why. When I turned back round into the room holding the condoms, he had his cock in his hand and seeing him horny, hard and clearly making bad decisions went to my cunt so much.

He pushed me back on the table as I pulled my jeans off as he rolled the condom on and slid straight into my soaking wet cunt like he hadn’t fucked in a lifetime. The table was the perfect height for one of my my favourite ways to fuck so I had my legs wrapped round his neck pushing him deeper into me and fucking me so hard the table was banging off the wall.

I was surprised that he lasted as long as he did considering how ridiculously horny we both were and how close to coming in my mouth he had been. He came into me so hard the table lurched and he literally howled as he orgasmed. The only thing better for me that being fucked that hard is the feeling of a man coming into me and it always tips me into coming too.

He could hardly move himself off me as we lay there enjoying the afterglow of our orgasms until we realised that the table as at an odd angle. Turned out we’d broken one of the legs while we were fucking. That made us move before we crashed to the floor and really had something to explain.

Luckily my flatmates came home wasted later that night after he’d left and assumed they broke the table. I was smart enough not own up but horny enough to allow my landlady’s husband to come round a few weeks later to measure up for a new one. This time we fucked on the sofa though to be safe…

Home Sweet Home