Seasonal Surprises

I’m a fan of the concept of Christmas but like many things less keen on the reality of it. I’m also not a fan of organised fun so it was surprising to me that I went to a Christmas panto with my Master and Princess the other night. I mean admittedly it was a queer panto at a gay bar with at least three jokes about fisting. The minimum of awkward audience interaction and the opportunity to get quite drunk definitely made for festive cheer.

It also meant it was much fun to stay at their house than go home afterwards and we all piled in bed drunkenly and my Master and I discovered we were both horny. I’ve never had properly drunk sex with Sir before and I’ve definitely never fucked him in the dark. I was enjoying being pressed up against him only able to work out of what he was doing using all my other senses.

Feeling his hands on me, then hearing him reach for the lube and the sound of him applying it and feeling his hands in me. It was hot in that frantic way you fuck when you’re drunk and horny with none of the of the niceties of sober sex. Just the urge to come and then fall asleep together. I’d forgotten that aspect of drunken fucking.

I’d also forgotten that when I when I’m drunk I never get as wet because alcohol dehydrates more than just my mouth. So I was enjoying my Master manhandling me into positions he could fuck me hard and deep with the simple purpose of coming hard instead me while Princess listened to us and played with her clit at the same time.

But it was also uncomfortable at times. Friction in ways I wouldn’t choose and I definitely took a few deep breaths at times. It didn’t stop me coming but as I fell asleep after helping Princess come I really felt that my cunt had been used and suspected Sir might have to go gently with me in the morning after that.

I didn’t think anything else of it when I woke up at 3.30am dying for a pee. I still don’t know my Master and Princess’ house well enough to be get up in the middle of the night in that barely conscious autopilot I do in my own flat and I have to remind myself to have manners and close the bathroom door even though no one would really notice.

I sat down sleepily and was jolted more wide awake than I think I’ve ever been when there was a noise like a cannonball ricocheting around the bathroom and the feeling of something heavy dropping out of my cunt. When I turned the light on I discovered that my Master had not put his fist inside me earlier but a giant metal ben wa ball*.

I think we can say my stretching training has been extremely successful because I had completely failed to notice the large weighted jiggle ball inside me until it fell out and I was standing in Sir’s bathroom thinking two things. Had I just broken his toilet and how the hell was I going to rescue a metal ball in the middle of the night?

I really had no choice except to put my hand down the toilet and fish it out before scrubbing it and myself in the posh hand wash and go back to bed hoping that I hadn’t woken anyone up with a peace shattering noise. This time I went back to sleep half horrified, half amused at the capacity of my cunt.

I did worry a bit what my Master would say when I told him this tale in the morning and luckily he found it hilarious. I found it slightly less funny when he told me there were two of them and asked where the other one was. Princess volunteered to check my cunt to no avail and they were both surprisingly good humoured that it had probably caused chaos with their plumbing just before Christmas.

We got up and made breakfast chuckling about when kinks go wrong and my Master joking about how as Christmas presents go this one had excelled itself with the sex and the amusement even if they were never a pair again and he had an awkward hour with a plumber as pay off.

After breakfast I went to brush my teeth and shower while he and Princess were clearing up and as I finished brushing my teeth, I sneezed and got an even bigger shock than in the middle of the night when I felt the second supposedly missing ben wa ball slide out of my cunt.

My mental reflexes are clearly faster than my cunt’s because I managed to avoid dropping it on my bare foot or breaking the bathroom floorboards even while laughing that I had absolutely no idea that it had been inside my cunt for the last twelve hours and I hadn’t even noticed.

The only feeling better than realising just how stretched but strong my cunt is after all that training was the moment when I walked into the living room and held a jiggle ball in each hand and watched my Master and Princess’s faces as they realised the ben wa ball was no longer missing and my cunt can perform magic tricks….

 

*in case you missed the small print in that link the two jiggle balls weigh 1.6 pounds in total. That’s 725g metric if you prefer. And I can’t decide if not noticing that I have something the weight of three blocks of butter in my cunt is my finest kinky moment or utterly terrifying.

Seasonal Surprises

Polish and Shine

I think regular readers of the blog know I have a thing about painted nails. I feel undressed and exposed not having my nails immaculately painted at all times. A little chip else is like being as undone as a ladder in my tights or discovering I spilt toothpaste on my top and have to wear it all day.

I’ve loved nail polish since I was a child. It was the ‘acceptable’ femme indicator in a country where make up beyond a little powder and lipstick for church were ‘fast’. It also had the glamour of the city that sat much more comfortably with me than the scrubbed bare hands of the side of my family who were farmers.

Every single year for Christmas I asked Father Christmas for a bottle of pink Tinkerbell nail polish which could be peeled off and didn’t make the whole nail polish thing seem quite so adult to actual adults. Santa clearly had opinions about the subject though because he never noticed that bit on my letter.

So when I was old enough to start going shopping down the town on my own at the age of about eleven or twelve, the first thing I bought was a bottle of black nail polish. I wore it religiously throughout my teens even if I had to pull my sleeves down to hide it from teachers and relatives who couldn’t decide if it symbolised Satan or sluttiness.

I still fall back on black nail polish as a perennial favourite nearly thirty years later but since I started blogging here I’ve branched out to appreciate the power of perfect red nails too. Not just on me either, but on Princess’s fingers too interspersed with orders that proved I was definitely on the side of slutdom not Satan all along.

It’s hot to paint her nails (and this fantastic piece from Tits and Test Tubes on using nail polish to domme a girl made me very tempted to give Princess festive red tipped fingers this week) and I do love the impact a little extra colour adds to fucking myself. But it never occurred to me if there’s dominance in painting nails, there’s submission too.

Until I found myself painting Sir’s nails the other night that was and then it was as crystal clear to me as the best top coat in town. He and Princess were trying out Torture Garden to see if it was smutty and slutty enough for us to play at and in absence of being able to go with them, I had offered to help them dress up.

Sir’s make up needed the edge of nail polish to tie everything together to make sure it was an outfit not a costume. Black latex top, black leather shorts, stockings, suspenders, the sharpest pair of black boots I’ve seen in years and black eye make up that shimmered dark green if you looked closely. The nails just capped it all off.

I didn’t expect that sitting across a table from Sir fully clothed with a tiny bottle of beetle black nail polish in my hands would be one of the most submissive things I’ve ever done. I didn’t touch anything except his hands and yet it felt so incredibly submissive I could feel myself slipping into that subspace that feels like the calm focus before sleep. The state where you could take any order at all.

I am very well acquainted with my Master’s hands. They’ve held me up, pushed me down, made me come countless times and been completely inside me. I’ve often glanced at them in public and remembered what they’ve done in private but I’ve never just sat and held them before.

Completely non sexually, just spread out on the kitchen table in front of me, letting me position his hand as I needed and apparently give him the directions for a change. Patiently allowing me to turn each finger and pay attention to each nail. Pointing out when I missed a bit. Sitting still to let each coat dry. Making sure they were absolutely perfect and that I wasn’t rushing the task or cutting corners.

It was a full hour of my full attention on him and his hands and it reminded me that submission doesn’t have to be inherently sexual. In fact sometimes taking the direct sexual content out of it makes it deeper. We didn’t fuck, we didn’t touch apart from doing nails then his make up.

But I couldn’t stop thinking about it when I went home. Some of that is that he looks even better in stockings than I’ve spent the last three years imagining and I could look at his legs all day in them. Yet despite always wanting to see him in stockings it was submission that was on my mind instead.

I’d definitely be interested in more acts of non sexual submission to him in the coming year but then again I’m also very interested in him letting me paint his nails again and then fist me knowing how perfect his hands look…

Polish and Shine

Trade

I’m in the middle of trying to get a bit of work done to my flat. It’s one of those very practical things that feels very adult indeed. I’ve been comparing quotations and checking people’s insurance and credentials. And laughing at how much I’ve grown up in the last few years because the last time I hired anyone to work on my flat, the fact he was incredibly fuckable was just as much a concern as how well he could lay my floor.

But don’t worry, even my formerly slutty self didn’t let him lay me as well. I just spent two long days flirting outrageously with him and respecting the fact that temptation wasn’t going to make him cheat on his clearly adored girlfriend. In a world where so many men will fuck you if they think they can get away with it, his honesty and conscience even when his cock was whispering in his ear made him even hotter.

That wasn’t where I learned to flirt with workmen. I think I developed that skill in my teens when I started working in service industry jobs and learned that male manual workers are often the only men who understand the use of emotional labour and platonic flirting as social interaction.

There’s probably some class dynamics in there about being the ‘hired help’ around middle class women who are paying their bill, but either way I have always loved flirting with workmen. Partly I can’t help playing up that stereotype that girly girls like me know nothing about practical things like paint or shelving because it often allows me to flirt my way to discounts or use the element of surprise that I actually know much more than I’m letting on if needed.

But mainly a lot of manual workers are hot. There’s something about the physique of a man’s body that comes from the simple act of using for hard physical work in the course of a day that always appeals to me in a way a gym honed body has never done. I love that hint of muscle and promise of strength in a body that moves and builds things for a living.

And watching people do something they are skilled at is one of my greatest turn ons. It doesn’t particularly matter what the skill is but seeing someone do something they are so confident and skilled at that they make it look easy gives me that pinch in my stomach of attraction as well as stirring in my cunt. Doesn’t matter if it’s cooking a meal, re-roofing a house or tiling a floor really. The attraction is in the expertise.

So when a friend asked me if I would stay at their flat for a couple of days while they were having some work done to the windows I agreed readily. Rather than them take time off work to let the guy in and out all day, I was happy to supervise and hope I hadn’t set myself up to stare at builder’s bum and make tea all day for a man with dubious political views which is the flip side to spending time round men who work with their hands.

But the slutty gods were smiling on me because he was young, handsome and Hungarian. I’m usually not a fan of Aryan looking men but his wholesome ashy blonde hair and blue eyes were complimented by an underlying air of filth that made me much more interested in making him tea and discussing Central European politics than I’d usually be.

He really did work on those windows the first day although there was much more flirtation on the second day. But by the third when the work had moved indoors, things stepped up a notch. I thoroughly enjoyed seeing him leaning over the sills with his ass right in my line of view all morning.

This time he took his lunch break and as we moved round the fairly small kitchen he brushed against me a few times that way that could be accidental if the response wasn’t favourable. I brushed back as he insisted on helping me wash up the mugs and plates used before he went back to work.

I spent the afternoon very aware of that sensation of where he’d grazed against my ass with his crotch feeling the tingle linger in my cunt and distract me. He’d stayed out of my sight line since then and I wondered if he was feeling awkward. I decided bringing him a beer when he finished work was the way to go.

He thanked me and finished clearing up. I slunk back into the kitchen feeling foolish and horny for mistaking porn for real life and started putting the washing up away. Clattering plates I didn’t hear him come up behind me until he set the beer bottle on the counter and slid his hands round my hips pressing me against him.

I went soft against how hard he was and he brushed his hands increasingly firmly across my tits and hips before pulling the zip of my jeans down, letting his fingers explore my clit and then inside my cunt as I leaned back into him. He had strong hands to hold me but with fingers used to small skilful movements and he made me squirm as I came.

Only then did we end up facing each other and we kissed before it was my turn to run my hands over him, slipping the straps of his painters overalls down to reveal that he wasn’t wearing any underwear and his cock was right there for me to play with.

I pulled the overalls right down and slipped his cock into my mouth. I was right that he was the right kind of filthy. He was shaved smooth and scented with just enough hard work and sweat to make me really want to suck on his balls too. I alternated between cock and balls with my mouth until he pushed his dick further into my mouth.

I balanced myself by cupping my hand under his balls as I sucked his cock and he reached down and cupped my fingers further back pressing against his asshole. I paused and he widened his stance so I knew he wanted my finger inside him. I put my fingers on top his cock and drew them down it as I sucked them slick and then slipped one into his ass.

He stiffened against and then opened up so my finger was able to slide in and out in time to my mouth on his cock, literally sucking and fucking him at the same time staring up at his face from my knees. His eyes were closed and he was only moving in synch with my actions almost like he was in trance.

Suddenly he startled forward grabbing my shoulders so my finger pressed inside his ass and he came so hard into my mouth I couldn’t swallow it all running down my chin and making his cock slip out of my mouth as he was still coming. It was dripping off his cock and my face and onto the floor as he was still gripping my shoulders.

He let go and I stood up to kiss him still covered in his come. I pulled my jeans up and he stepped back, pulling his overalls off completely so he was naked from the waist down and taking a cloth he got down on his hands and knees, back to me with his just fucked arsehole visible and slowly and deliberately mopped up his own come as I watched.

Still on the floor, he tossed the cloth in the sink and pulled my jeans back down and buried his tongue in my cunt with his cock in his hand. We both came again and only just had time to get dressed and composed again before my friend arrived home with more beers to thank us both with.

I have no idea what we sat and  talked about because both my mind and cunt were still completely distracted. I’m not sure I’ll ever look at a pair of painters overalls again the same way….

Trade

Puttin’ On The Glitz

The older I get the more I love sparkle and shine and all things glittery. When I was younger one of my few life rules was no loose glitter in the house. I hadn’t learned to handle the hard stuff back then and couldn’t bear the trail of dubious decisions it inadvertently signposted if not careful.

But this week when my Master and Princess decided to go to the legendary Torture Garden for their pre Christmas party, I decided I was grown up enough to use glitter on Princess to  help show her off in style. A wise old whore once taught me how apply glitter to the eyes with eyelash glue and it was time for me to share that tip with Princess.

She had chosen to wear a harness bra of mine to show off her small but perfectly formed tits but wanted something more than just nipple to complete the look. I found the answer through a Pinterest image of Swarovski crystals used as a more sparkly and sexier answer to nipple covers or pasties.

Nipple covers always seem to have that Puritan hide the nipple look that gives the weird formless boob of a Barbie doll to everyone and I’m not a fan. I like a bit of visible nipple myself. After all I am a woman who once got sent home from work to put a bra on and took three hours to do so, including going out for lunch only to return to work in the only bra I owned at the time which actually made my nipples more noticeable.

My boss compromised by not firing me and allowing me to stick tape over my nipples to make them less obviously there. I left the job soon after and fifteen years I’m actually worse about letting my nipples announce me entering a room since I got my piercings. I’m not the audience for nipple covers clearly. And I’ve spent one too many nights trying to find missing nipple pasties on the floor of a drag bar to bother with those either.

Princess was getting rhinestones instead for her night out. I think I enjoyed spending time smoothing small sparkles onto her nipples more than I would enjoy clubbing itself. The practice run here used the pale pink spares in the packet I bought and I tested how good the standard adhesive was by pinching and playing with her nipples withe my mouth while she used the Doxy on herself.

They held up surprisingly well but I decided to make them debauchery proof with some good old Duo eyelash adhesive for the real deal. This time I used black rhinestones to cover her nipples to go with the slutty black fishnet of her top and the sheen of her first piece of latex and they looked excellent. Almost more obscene than bare nipples.

And that eyelash glue holds so well a night’s dancing followed by fucking Sir afterwards and they hadn’t budged. I’m looking forward to testing their staying power even more this week by pressing my pierced nipples against her shimmery sparkly nipples and using a little friction as we fuck this week….

Rhinestones on nipples

Puttin’ On The Glitz

Awarded

So I’ve been busy with the non kinky world for the last few days and had no time to blog my second threesome of last week or write up any Throwback Thursday posts. I’ve been doing all kinds of boring life admin things like wrestling with my highly strung internet connection and out of the online world.

Logging back in knocked my socks off when I discovered that the blog is in the Top 100 Sex Blogs on Molly’s Daily Kiss! You lovely lovely people nominated me and I’m in there at number 94 feeling as proud as punch to be in such good company along with so many fantastic bloggers.

Thank you so much to Molly for compiling such a comprehensive list and putting so much work into it. And thank you so much for everyone who nominated me and continues to read and support the blog. It makes writing something so personal so much more enjoyable and engaging for me and of course it appeals to that exhibitionist streak I pretend I don’t have…

Top 100 Sex Bloggers 2017
Awarded

Waves Of Pleasure

When I started fucking my Master and Princess, I thought I was pretty sexual experienced. And I knew what orgasms felt like. What more was there to learn?

Well, self awareness for starters. I was fairly good at fucking before I met them both but I was an intermediate at best on orgasms. I’d had a few that knocked me off my feet and they still surprised occasionally (like the time I found my own G spot by accident) but actually orgasms weren’t the biggest part of of sexual activity for me.

I’d never had a multiple orgasm. I rarely got ones that reached past my immediate cunt. The idea that I’d have to lie down unable to speak after an orgasm because it left me so dazed and delighted. I never came from oral sex. I had never squirted or ejaculated. I had no idea nipple orgasms were a thing. I clearly had a lot to learn and my Master and Princess have taught me in abundance.

I’m spoiled bloody rotten these days. Multiple orgasms have become something I am very familiar with but not blasé about. I always come twice when Princess licks my cunt. I can come extravagantly with my Master’s cock inside me. I assumed I was pretty advanced level with orgasms now. And then I learned something completely new and unexpected in the shape of a cervical orgasm and have had to re-write my mental map of orgasms all over again.

The cervix is an interesting thing. Usually only thought about in time of gynaecological things such as smear tests or inducing pregnancy, it crops up in terms of sex usually when women complain their partner’s cock hits at an odd angle in a painful way. It varies in size, shape and depth depending on your menstrual cycle and I never ever think about mine normally unless a nurse is pointing it out.

But my Master had other Monday night plans this week. Clearly whatever he’s doing at work at the moment leaves him very energised at the start of the week because he had it in mind that Princess and I should fist each other while he watched. I began with her letting my fist slide and inch into her cunt as it stretched and welcomed me inside and she clearly enjoyed the orgasm given my clenched fist and her Doxy.

As is fair we switched places and while Sir played with my piercings alternating between nipples and clit, Princess let my cunt just swallow her whole hand up with ease. It felt incredible because I do love a fist in my cunt after all. But then I don’t quite know what happened and her hand found my cervix which she described as small and hard and I had an orgasm quite unlike anything else.

I have no idea if she was stroking or rubbing my cervix but it produced an orgasm that simultaneously felt like I was floating outside my body while so utterly deeply present in it. I was aware of Sir playing with my clit and pressing against me but this orgasm rolled down my arms in waves through my whole body and made me come for what felt like minutes of pure unadulterated pleasure.

Usually an orgasm of that intensity would thanks to my weird body leave me like a limp rag unable to move but this one left me almost giddy like I was slightly tipsy and euphoric. It was incredible and completely unexpected.

When Sir fucked my open gaping cunt straight afterwards, I could still feel a huge amount of sensation in my cervix that felt like just the delicious edge of pleasure/pain and savouring every thrust. No wonder when he came into me it felt like my cunt was absolutely ruined, dripping come, lube and ejaculate all over Princess when he pulled out.

I’m going to want to be fisted even more often than I usually do now I’ve discovered this. Somehow I think Princess and my Master might oblige me if even I don’t beg nicely…

Waves Of Pleasure