The Right Note

I loved music when I was a teenager. All my spare time and cash went on getting my hands on music or going to see live music. I love the aspect of collecting it and seeking things out  and finding people you had the same musical tastes in common with. And I loved that it was a great way to meet men.

Men love women who are into things’ they think of as ‘boy’s interests’. Girls who love football or computer games or drink beer are often jokingly referred to as ‘cool girls‘ with the slight sting in the tail that no matter how  much you really love ninja movies or comics or whatever you will be accused of only doing it to impress men.

So while I loved the bands I was into, I also learned quite quickly that I could happily subvert the sexual stereotype to my own advantage and get fucked in the process. And on a couple of occasions I got my hands on an import only issue album as well as their cock. A win-win situation for me frankly.

On this occasion though it was a gig. I was about seventeen and they were a local band done good internationally coming home to an adoring crowd. It was the kind of night you know you’d talk about for years as a teenager and it would be packed. There’s a certain kind of freedom that comes with crowds.

I went with some friends and before the support band had even finished the set I’d some how lost them in the mass of people. I can’t remember if that bothered me to be on my own in a crowd of handsy men as a kid or I felt liberated by it. But I remember glancing round looking for a little space to carve out for myself and tucking into it.

Then I noticed the guy standing there too. Maybe I’d noticed them already and that was why I picked out that space, but I was completely aware of his presence. He just seemed to fill the space in a way that wasn’t at all intimidating. More in the way that made me want to lean against him.

We exchanged polite pleasantries, just enough to make it definitely consensual not not creepy. For some reason I remember that he was from Southampton which meant he was passing through and I wasn’t likely to see him again. This gave me permission to misbehave and embrace the fact he was in holiday mode when people behave the way they want not the way they should.

Luckily I was wearing a skirt. My grandmother would have described it as a belt with that tone of disapproval but that’s exactly why I loved it. It was probably the shortest skirt I’ve ever owned and looked like black leather. That skirt was my secret weapon for several years and I’ve always wanted to find one like it again.

Being December I was also wearing tights but as I slipped in front of the guy and leaned into his chest like guys do with their girlfriends at gigs to hold them in place away from thrashing arms and grabby hands, he reached down and used his thumbs to rip the crotch of my tights open. My underwear was easy to push aside so now he had perfect access.

I was pressed against him in an incredibly dark crowded space where no one could hear a single thing except the band and despite several thousands of people round us we had a surprising amount of privacy. He took advantage of that by using his fingers to make me arch my back and have to hold my myself up while he made me come in public.

He teased me that the more I squirmed and seemed to collapse against him he’d pull back and leave me on the edge making me stand up straight several times before allowing me to come and using his spare arm to hold me up as I ground down on his fingers and pressed against his incredibly hard cock.

Neither of us were paying any attention to the band. But luckily everyone else was. After the second, maybe third orgasm, he spun me round and started walking me out of the crowd. There was a balcony of seats upstairs in the venue which a few people were using for smoking and drinking smuggled in booze, but it was dark and barely noticed.

We went upstairs and he selected the darkest corner of the seats and sat down pulling me onto his knee turning my head so we could kiss looking for all intents and purposes like many of the other young couples at any gig who use it as an excuse to snog their partner to their favourite bands.

The only difference was that he had pulled his cock out of his fly without pulling his trousers down (I do miss when low slung baggy trousers were in fashion for men. They offered excellent opportunities for access) and was slowly positioning the rip in my tights over his erection.

For a few seconds I had to hold myself up enough to pull my underwear aside and line the angles up before his cock slipped right into my cunt so I literally slid down his dick and sat down hard on his lap. Still with my head turned as we kissed, it looked entirely more innocent than it was.

To keep it that way, he used the tilt of the cinema style seats to tip his hips forward and back gently to fuck me while I had to basically sit still and push my clenched cunt down onto his cock to get as much movement and friction as possible. Sometimes it doesn’t take much to make someone come and this was one of those moments.

He came hard into me, pulling me down tighter onto his lap and pressing his face into my back I presume to hide any noise or facial expressions that might give away that we weren’t just hugging. I remember he seemed to come for what felt like forever as he thrust into me more. I don’t recall if I came but when my Master does that now the feeling of it always pushed me into another orgasm so I presume I did.

We sat for a few minutes with his cock still in my cunt, leaning back and allowing the energy to come back for both us before disentangling ourselves. He walked me back downstairs and we watched the rest of the gig in comfortable silence.

The only difference was that while an hour earlier I had been delighted with the shortness of my skirt now I was hoping I wouldn’t accidentally flash the rip in the crotch that advertised I really was a slut not just a fan of short skirts…

The Right Note

Base Urges

I enjoyed my Master’s texture challenge the other night even if it was less show and tell and more hide and seek inside my cunt at the time. It was interesting to focus on a different kind of feeling for once when masturbating and concentrate on tactile sensations rather than just the sensation of fullness.

This different focus kept me on my toes nicely to stop myself falling into my old bad habit of rushing orgasms when I masturbate so they don’t really satisfy me properly. Like snacking mouthfuls as you pass the fridge fills your stomach up but doesn’t engage or satiate your brain’s hunger, my tendency to come almost for the sake of it is wasteful.

That kind of functional orgasm does nothing for me. It doesn’t turn me on, it doesn’t help me sleep and it gives my sex drive the same sickly feel as eating too many sweets or snacks between meals. In a long term relationship that makes me as bratty as I’m ever likely to get but in my single days it lead to impulsive sexual decisions like being hopped up on sugar or food colourings from eating junk food.

One of the first things my Master did when he started training me was to regulate this tendency teaching to slow down and savour masturbating so I really got to know my body and feel the orgasms instead of the equivalent of bolting down the main course to get to dessert.

It really worked to focus me on his dominance and not my own flights of sexual fancy and  without being taught to pace myself and be less sexually superficial I would not have been able to submit to my Master properly or stretch myself as much as I have been. Psychologically I’d have lost my nerve if I’d rushed and physically it’s not a good idea to mix haste and large objects.

I haven’t been able to fuck properly for what feels like forever recently. First I was ill. Then that bout of bacterial vaginosis and the the antibiotics I took for it really knocked my cunt off course with it taking ages to get back to normal levels of lubrication. Then life has got in the way of seeing my Master or Princess to actually fuck and if that wasn’t annoying enough, my cunt now has thrush from the antibiotics. My body feels like one of those over stimulated toddlers that needs to sleep but forces itself to stay awake even though it’s miserable.

Some people just get really obviously horny when they go without sex. You know the kind that starts humping the furniture without totally noticing they are doing it? Other people use all that untapped energy to motivate them into other non sexual things like going running to burn off the frustration.

I get irritable and oddly un-sexual despite being incredibly frustrated and horny. It’s like if I don’t have sex I know I’m missing out on something but lose the ability to read the cue and just get grumpy and wound up emotionally while my cunt forgets to connect to my mind. I can’t tell if I’m tired, hungry, thirsty or horny until I’m reminded obviously like someone offers me a cup of tea or tells me to get on my knees for them.

I’m not sure why I’m so bad at translating my own bodily urges but it’s like I need constant reminders to work those almost primal muscles so they stay fit and active. I don’t really understand why my body’s response to a lack of things like food and sex in my day to life is to go into hibernation mode to wait out some kind of famine rather than actively seek out things that are essential bodily needs.

But I end up irritated and out of sorts but without the focus that I’m hungry or horny and need to go and do something about it. Instead I annoy myself with my bad mood and hope someone will offer me a sandwich or a threesome and then my brain finally makes the connection and starts communicating with my cunt or my stomach.

I’m in this stage at the moment but with the added frustration that my cunt is attention seeking in all the wrong ways and not welcoming the feeling of getting fucked. It’s like realising you are starving hungry and then discovering you can’t taste anything because you’ve got the cold.

If my body is forcing me to slow down so much my mind is starting to run away with itself  with ideas of submission to balance it out. I think I might have to ask my Master if he has any ways I can actively submit to him to keep me engaged but not likely to do something ill advised like fuck myself too soon out of frustration.

Only problem is that suddenly everything on that menu looks appetising to me. Now I know why women let men order for them…

Base Urges

Texture

Is there anything more disappointing than a dodgy dildo? I haven’t had the chance to play with the monster my Master bought me for my birthday because there’s a problem with the texture of it. I’m not sure if it’s a fault with the toy itself or the way it’s been stored in the packaging before being sent out.

But it’s not safe to be near my cunt right now sadly so to make it up to me (especially after the awkwardness of taking a two foot long dildo to the Post Office) my Master set me a little challenge. I was to take three toys and compare the textures of them in my cunt before coming round each of them.

It wasn’t about length or girth this time per se but about touch and texture instead so I used it as an excuse to delve deep into my toy box and compare and contrast to make my choices. Although it says a lot that my first stop was actually the fridge for my beloved glass dildo chilled to perfection under the emergency bar of chocolate to start me off.

I love the feel of that glass toy. One side is dimpled and the other is swirled and curled and the toy works best with extremes of temperature. I slid the cool dimpled end inside me and enjoyed the fact that glass is by it’s very nature incredibly firm and inflexible. It’s like the hardest cock possible and that over the top-ness makes it feel so much a like a toy all for the pleasure of playing with.

The unyielding texture of the toy actually works with your cunt more than you’d expect. The cool feel allows the heat of my cunt to transfer to it and the rigidity allows the soft wetness to contrast with it so the toy slides in and out gracefully and gloriously as I fuck myself deeply and steadily with it. The little clink as it slips in as far as possible and skims across the metallic piercing in my swollen clit always pushes me over the edge into an orgasm.

In contrast my next toy was a new experience for me. A little purple jelly vibrator designed to work like a rabbit with clit stimulation, it came free with a Lovehoney order and I’ve never used it on me. Princess responded well to it but it was unchartered territory for my current cunt.

My first ever sex toy was a gift from a friend in that stereotypical pink glittery jelly and I never warmed to it abandoning it quite quickly to go back to using my hand. This was the first time I’d revisited the texture and I suspect it’ll be the last. There’s something about the sticky squishiness of jelly toys that causes my cunt to shrink away from them and considering how tiny this toy is by my standards that’s a very bad thing.

It did not slip inside me anywhere as easily as the glass toy. No glide, more stopping and starting like trying to learn to use the clutch pedal on your first driving lesson than getting fucked. The texture seemed to suck the moisture from my cunt with the wrong kind of friction for fun.

Adding the vibrations didn’t help much. I’m used to the jumbo jet style roar and reverberation of the Doxy and this was more like someone sneezing on my clit instead. Like many starter style sex toys, it has a lot of functions and less impact cycling through all kinds of whispers of vibration that never quite go anywhere. Especially when half the settings seem to involve that on-off buzz pattern that builds to pleasure before dying away in frustration.

I haven’t worked that hard for an orgasm in years with the soft little toy feeling limp and damp inside and against me definitely not filling me up or fulfilling the promise of vibrations. I haven’t felt anything that half hearted near my cunt since I stopped fucking straight men and my orgasm was more like a defiant fuck you to the clammy fumbling toy than actual pleasure.

I was very pleased I’d kept my eternal favourite pink G spot toy from Lovehoney for the finale. Bought as a  substitute for the much more expensive Jopen Comet G spot toy I couldn’t justify spending so much money on, this toy has given me more pleasure than I ever imagined. Made of smooth sleek silicone, I’ve used it in my ass and my cunt and loved it in both.

It has the slight tackiness of silicone that goes with lubrication like salt goes with pepper to compliment and enhance each other and this toy just feels like it comes home in my cunt. Not as rigid as the glass and not as languid as the jelly toy, it feels more like the hardness of an actual cock and my cunt is definitely on home turf with that feel.

Silicone doesn’t seem to absorb heat the same way but it loves lube making it slick and sleek inside you to make sure the toy really builds up good friction against the slightly raised swollen spongy feel of my G spot when I’m really turned on. It butts against it but slips just enough to give a twisting motion that always makes me come so hard I feel like I might squirt as well. And last night was no difference.

I lay back after my third consecutive orgasm and tried to decide which toy was my favourite. I love that clean cool feel of glass and never tire of playing with it but the pink toy just works for me getting me turned on and fucked to orgasm every single time with the least effort. And it’s not just good with myself, both my Master and Princess can use it on me to incredible results too.

I think I might be a silicone slut but Sir has set me another three toys to play with tonight too so who knows…?

 

Texture

Foundations

If I counted up the amount of time I waste on Twitter, I’d probably hang my head in shame. But occasionally it comes up trumps in making me use my time well. Having seen a tweet going round this week asking about your five ‘foundational’ crushes I spent the afternoon trying to remember who any of my crushes were.

Luckily Twitter had a prompt when I saw a friend post her top five and I was reminded that I knew my type early on. I had a huge crush back in the early Nineties on the guitar player Nuno Bettencourt from the band Extreme back in the days when all men seemed to have long hair.

Over time I’d mistaken the long hair and his pretty pouty look for not being my type and rather cute and feminine as if I’d been playing it safe back then. Then my friend posted an image and not only did I very clearly remember buying the magazine it was in, but I realised that pout was in fact all about pure filthiness.

In hindsight a poster like this on my bedroom wall was pinning my colours to the mast early on. While my peers were kissing pictures of Take That goodnight and publicly discussing wanting to meet them, I was sleeping under a photo of a man I knew I wanted to be alone with and having some very private thoughts about.

Years later I was at a party with my then flatmate and feeling slightly awkward when I realised there were ten men in the room and I’d fucked them all. My flatmate chuckled when she realised it too and commented that you’d never guess what they all had in common because they all looked so different to each other so I clearly don’t have a type.

While she was right in that none of the men that night realised the extent of my slutty ways, she was also wrong in that I definitely have a type. Aesthetically I’m a sucker for good cheekbones even now even if I never find long hair attractive on men these days but my type is the sort with that filthy twinkle in their eye.

Put me in a room of twenty men with only one who’d throw you down on the bed rather ask nicely and I will sniff them out like a trained slut hound. I clearly started this game young so I’m well practised and my strike rate is so good I could count the accidental vanilla men on one hand.

I wondered if I’d had to hone this skill and after rediscovering just how dirty Senhor Bettencourt was I tried to think who my other foundational crushes had been. There was David Bowie, particularly in Labyrinth of course. More cheekbones and filthy looks. And something stirred deep inside me when I first saw The Rocky Horror Picture Show and encountered Frank n’ Furter.

I don’t know if the other men I dreamed of in those days of youth count as foundational but my thoughts were filthy all the same. I pictured myself running off to the big city and sucking the cocks of unsuitable but attractive men when I got there. It took me years to realise I actually did fulfil that aspiration in many ways but it wasn’t quite as glamorous as I expected at the time.

So it was good to be reminded I knew my tastes early on. And even better to discover my original foundational crush actually looks filthier now twenty five years later…

Foundations

Extreme

I’ve been enjoying recounting some of my old sex stories recently even if it’s been mildly embarrassing to realise what dubious taste in men younger me had. But I thought this week I’d treat you all to a tale of a decent guy for once.

I have never understood that line about men being more visual than women because trust me all the women I know have a finely honed sense of spotting someone they find hot at a hundred paces. It explains why we all bought so many women’s magazines in our teens to eye up the hot men (and maybe the women too.)

That’s where I spotted him first. A shared copy of a magazine with some friends on an article about the growing interest in extreme sports in the UK. In amongst the fellas with their trousers barely clinging to their arse, he looked more normal as well as the kind of good looking that turns your head.

I could see why the interview featured him so prominently as he had model looks combined with that air of pure filth. He was hands down the best looking man I’d ever seen. I bought a copy of the magazine on the way home from my friend’s house and developed an interest in extreme sports all of a sudden.

This turned out to be an excellent choice on my part. Not only is there quite a skill to admire in chucking yourself round on a BMX bike or skateboard, but it also does incredible things to a man’s arse. Which is how I found myself several years later sitting on a kerb watching men throw themselves at a ridiculously high ramp for fun when who should appear out of nowhere?

I thought I was hallucinating (or had died and gone to heaven) when he walked directly towards me and handed me two tickets for the after show party later before winking and walked off again. I nearly lost my balance on that kerb and definitely lost my cool when everyone stared at me and started trying to invite themselves along with me later. Men that good looking do not come along often.

Which made it ironic that I couldn’t bloody find him later at the party. I had to spend a lot of valuable time chatting to other men about ollies and half pipes and bike brakes like I actually gave a fuck and wasn’t just there to find the ridiculously good looking man who’d been on my mind for two years.

By the time the lights went up at the end of the night he was still missing in action and I was convinced I’d imagined meeting him earlier like some kind of handsome apparition. And then just as I went outside to hail a cab he appeared out of nowhere. I immediately forgot the cab and accepted his offer of a drink back at his hotel as I left to all eyes on me with the good looking stranger from out of town.

We bypassed the bar back at the hotel and went straight to his room instead, piling through the door like a movie cliche kissing each other frantically, pulling at clothes to get naked and falling onto the bed to fuck as quickly as possible. He had a body to match his beautiful face and the hotel had the kind of panoramic view over the city below that goes to your head.

I was on top of him in no time staring down at him and riding his cock lit only by the lights outside as he fucked me stupid that way so few men can do when you’re astride them. All too often men lie flat with their hips pressed to the bed making you do all the work in an awkward way that always made being on top the only way penetration didn’t make me come.

But this guy fucked me like nothing else I’d encountered. That well muscled arse and legs from all those extreme sports led to some very extreme fucking where he seemed to lift me off the bed with his cock so that I had to tip my body forward to stay on and pressed my clit and cunt against him making me come repeatedly in a way that I didn’t know was possible on top until then.

I’d lost count of how many times I’d come before he practically fucked me flat onto my back with the intensity of his own orgasm. We collapsed onto the bed in that breathless giddy well fucked way that feels like floating on air. I was about thank him for the amazing sex when we both jumped about ten feet in the air as someone’s voice said ‘oh you’re finished. I thought that would never end’.

It turned out that in our haste to fuck, neither of us had noticed that his room-mate was there sleeping in the room’s other bed until our enthusiastic fucking had woken him up and given him a full floor show. I was too orgasmed out to care that he had witnessed the whole thing and appreciated that at this point he took himself off to meet other people in the bar so we could carry on.

And carry on we did. Not only did we fuck again that night, we continued to fuck on and off for the next five years despite never living in the same city once and not exchanging contact details for the first two years. We just had a knack of bumping into each other around the UK and Ireland and falling into bed together every time, even once hiring a room by the hour to fuck before his train left London.

We eventially ended up dating properly for a year although we were much less successful at that than being fuck buddies. He remained the only man ever to make me come from being on top until I met my Master and I admit I was almost tempted to meet up for old times’ sake when he friended me on Facebook last year.

But I wasn’t surprised when he mentioned his friend had asked after me after all that time….

Extreme

A Small Favour

I don’t ask for much (since I’m already rather lucky with two hot partners to have orgasms with) but occasionally I like to ask a favour from people. I enjoy writing the blog here and interacting with readers but I find the sex blogging world a bit intimidating.

There’s a lot of who you know that makes me feel a bit like there’s a gang I’m not invited to join. Some of this is because some people who able to be less anonymous online and can go to conventions, meet ups etc to network and chat in person.

But because it’s my cunt featuring prominently here rather than my charming personality I find the idea of putting myself out there to interact with other sex bloggers a bit tricky. There seems to be a dividing line of sex bloggers who review toys and write erotica and post naked but not necessarily pornographic photos and those whose online presence is more about porn or sex work which is more overt.

These camps don’t seem to overlap and I’m not entirely sure which I belong to so I’ve never ventured into either preferring to read blogs that appeal to me and spend my spare time finding erotica on sites like Literotica that I enjoy.

But I really enjoyed coming across new Tumblrs and blogs when I did the guest post for Girl on the Net so I want to use that to keep finding new filth online so I’m looking forward to the Molly’s Daily Kiss Top 100 Sex Blogs as a way to find people all in one place. And I’m hoping that one of you lovely people might nominate this blog to join them?

I’m sure you’ll all reap the rewards if I have to up my game and post more often to prove my place….

A Small Favour

Posed

My cunt still isn’t quite back to full functioning so my horniness has had to be in my head recently which has given me lots of time to think of sexual scenarios I think I’d enjoy participating in.

I keep coming back to the idea of blindfolding Princess to rein in her brattiness so I can take control of her more. But the problem is that if she saw a blindfold coming she’d wriggle and try to brat her way out of behaving.

I’d have to surprise her with a hidden blindfold. The logical place to stash it is in what I’m wearing so it’s close to my cunt. Then when I put it round her face she can breathe in how wet the idea of this is making me.

What I can’t decide is if I want to tell her to kneel on the bed or the floor while I put the blindfold on her. If she’s on the floor, I can lead her to the bed trusting me in the process which gets me ridiculously wet when my Master does it to me. But if she’s on the bed already I can simply push her down and start teasing her.

Flat on her back I can pull her legs open to make sure she feels exposed and watched, unable to see what I’m doing. So she doesn’t know whether I’m about to bite her, lick her, pinch her or flog her. Or maybe all of them? The best bit for me is that I don’t need to decide just yet.

But once I’ve got her wet and squirming and probably likely to start begging, I’m definitely going to really tease her with her new Doxy. Not straight on her clit, nor even her cunt but buzzing it along her thighs and over her nipples until she’s gasping and then onto her still clothed but soaking cunt.

And just as she’s arching her back to push her cunt harder against the Doxy aching to let it make her come, I’m going to lift it away and place it on my cunt instead. So she can still hear the vibrations of the toy but doesn’t know where they’ve gone. I can just see her wanting to pull her blindfold off to find out but knowing that’s brattiness gone too far.

Instead I’ll tease her with the sound of the toy rumbling against my clit piercing and maybe even make a tiny bit of noise myself to show her how much I’m enjoying masturbating while watching her blindfolded on the bed with her legs wide open for me.

I’m just deciding whether to inch my body forward on the bed so that it means the Doxy presses against both our cunts or not when my Master comes into the room to surprise me as much as I did Princess with the blindfold.

I like the idea of him also blindfolding me and taking the Doxy out my hand so I can’t tell whether he’s using the new one on her and the old one on me at this point or pushing my body towards hers so that we have both Doxies vibrating at once against us as he holds me down and she keeps her legs open.

Maybe he’d be so enjoying seeing her helpless and open like that he’d pull her panties off and put her into the spreader bar to make sure she stays that way. Perfect for pushing my face into her cunt to lick it while he fucks me with my upper body pushing against the bar as it rattles and moves so Princess has to guess and picture and fantasise about what he’s doing to me.

I like to think he’d take pity on her and pull the blindfold off just in time to let her see him come into me. He’s generous that way…

 

Posed