The Taste.

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Image: @tastyartgurlerotic3

 

Followers of my blog will know of my ongoing relationship with an online friend on Instagram… It will come as no surprise to them that this post is going to be a further piece of writing based around that wonderful liaison. The term “muse” is used heavily these days, and in my view rather too loosely. I see the term as describing an inspirational relationship between a person, the muse, and an artist, but recently it seems that it is used to simply refer to any particular fixation with an individual whom they find appealing.

Without wanting to sound pretentious, I think that my online relationship certainly falls into the former definition. Describing myself as an “artist” may be stretching things… but she certainly inspires me in my writing deeply, and as such, she is most definitely my muse. The relationship, based around Instagram, obviously revolves around imagery and so I am sure many might assume that my obsession is with a woman who posts provocative images of herself and I am fixated. Wrong! Her images are subtly nuanced and in no way gratuitous. In fact there is far more dialogue than picture sharing. The intensity of our conversations are quite astonishing and she constantly encourages me to write. The following piece is a transcript of one such conversation, albeit only my words, and not her comments, as this is what she inspired me to write.

So here goes…. 

The Taste.

You stand before me… wearing only the lingerie… you knew exactly what Master liked. My hands clasped together around your ankle… I slide them up slowly… over your shins… your calves… sliding over your knee… your thigh… the top of your thigh where the lace stocking top hugs you…

…my hands hold their position… my fingers unclasp and stroke the silk like skin between your stocking and your panties… my slow touch has you pinned… my fingers dance over your flesh… letting their tips occasionally brush dangerously close to where you want me to touch you most…

I slide my fingers between the lace of your stocking and your skin… and slowly drag it down your leg… pulling it off your foot as I look up at you and smile. I do the same with your other leg… sliding the fabric and lace down… letting it fall to the ground…

I lean forward in towards you… and rest my head against your belly as I slide my hands slowly up the backs of your legs…. my fingers linger in that heart shaped space below your most intimate place… I feel your hands in my hair…. I inhale your scent deeply as my fingers find the edge of your panties… and begin to remove them…

You suck in your breath when you feel the damp lace pull away from your skin… you feel the heat rise in your face and smile as you feel my breath exhale over your swollen little clit… you hiss and tighten your grip on my hair as you feel my gentle kisses on your skin…

You want so badly to lock your thighs around my shoulders… pinning my warm face in place… keeping me there until you drown me in your sweet nectar… but you don’t… you stand perfectly still… as I told you… “Let me” I tell you…

You let me…

I use every bit of my self control not to devour you… wanting to bury my face and fingers inside you as you need me to… my fingers relax on the swollen lips of your intimate place… my hands reach around you and cradle the delicious femininity… I hold you there as I stand… my hardness brushing the whole length of your leg as I rise… it rests in the heart shaped space as I stand in front of you.

My hands come from behind you… and explore the delicate lace of your bra… I can feel your nipples hardening beneath the texture of the fabric… all the time my hardness is teasing the heart shaped place…

You gently peel the lace away from one of your beautiful heavy breasts… I lower my head and kiss your porcelain flesh… eventually finding your now erect nipple. You gasp as I delicately take you between my teeth…

You cradle my head in your hands as I worship your breasts… the breasts I have dreamed of for so long… the breasts you have used to torture me with tantalising pictures… slowly you step back, taking me with you, and rest against the table…

Your fingers entangled in my hair…  I feel you pressing me down… my muse is determined… such is her hunger… but she must be patient… she will wait a little longer.

Our eyes are locked on each other’s… just centimetres apart… I trace my hand slowly down across your exposed breast… lingering on that beautiful curve on its underside… wonderfully smooth, perfectly formed, like melting wax on a candle… cupping it in my hand momentarily…

My thumb finds your nipple… their beautiful softness which I have secretly admired in the glimpses you have shared… now so hard… my hand commences its journey… down… leaving your nipple brushing my chest and your other breast still encased in lace, pressed against me…

My fingers stroke the soft flesh of your belly… circling your naval… the delicious womanliness… and down through the trimmed hair of your most intimate place… Your breathing is heavy… as my fingers tease…

Delicately I open you… the way you have dreamed… I hear you groan… your knees becoming weak… as I purposefully find that tiny place… where your lips meet… hidden beneath the hood they create… safely hidden… but not from my inquisitive touch…

…my finger probes further… into the velvet of my dreams… the soft filigree of your inner lips… and the heat of you… the nectar I crave clings to my fingers… you part your thighs… I know my muse wants more…

I know… it is so much torment as you read this… at work… busy… but unable to resist reading… even as your cheeks burn… your colleagues oblivious to the torture you are enduring… I will not stop…

…the delicious torture that my muse craves… that her master administers… for her…exploring her darkness… her unspoken desires… the pleasures of the flesh she yearns for…

…you gasp as my fingers leave… you cling to my wrist… desperate for me to stay a while longer… your eyes wide with desire… I raise my hand against your wishes… your breathing heavy on my face… my fingers brush against your breast… a silvery trail of you is left… I delicately touch your lips… as I have seen you do… they part… but different… the nectar of your intimacy…

…I watch… as your tongue touches my fingers… a pause… is this a new taste…? …we both know it isn’t… in the intimacy of your own privacy… it is a taste you know well… but this is so deliciously different… this is from the touch of your master… and you devour him…

…I draw close… and our tongues meet around my fingers… our hunger is intense… I taste you on your tongue… on my fingers… this time my muse has her way… I kiss my way down her neck…

…across your chest… the kisses are no longer words… they are real… your small hand raises your breast to my hungry mouth… the pure sensuality has taken over… I claw at the lace covering your other breast… an overwhelmingly erotic vision before me… my temptress has seduced me… she knows this…

…I know my muse has surrendered… not just to her master… but to her desires… the desires she has held within for too long… and now she is empowered by them… finally free… free to explore her self… as a beautiful sensual being…

…your hands press down on my shoulders… your eyes are burning into my soul… I trail my tongue across your belly… your hands are impatient… you grasp my head… your fingers entangled in my hair… I move my face against you… feeling the soft hairs of your intimacy against my cheek…

You watch as I back away slightly… kneeling at your feet… I use my thumbs to part your lips… spread you open… and before my tongue swipes up… I look up into your eyes… breathing against your need… you are trembling… I can taste your overwhelming desire… your fingers clenched in my hair…

You feel my arousal against your ankle… the heat… the hardness… your mind is full of the need to have me… to hold me there… to guide me inside you… but you don’t… you remain… each exhale of my breath against you is intoxicating… I devour you as the intensity builds inside you…

I inhale your scent deeply… and place one final kiss over your clit… I hold my lips there… for just a moment… and suck gently as I pull away… the sound that escapes from your mouth… resonates inside me… “Fuck me now Jim…”

To be continued….

The Good Girl.

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My writing recently has been focused on a delicious relationship that has been unfolding with a follower of mine on Instagram… In my last post here, I wrote of a dream I had about her. She has since read the piece and things have moved on. I now write for her regularly, sharing fantasies and exploring our dreams together. The muse/master dimension has developed further and it is a common theme in our conversations and the post today is one of the stories that emerged from one of these. I couldn’t have written it without her… her input is so very inspirational to me as I write.

Without further ado… here is the story of ‘The Good Girl’. 

You had been a good girl… you had followed the instructions I had left for you perfectly. Wearing only the black lingerie I had left prepared, you had tied each of your beautiful slender ankles loosely to the bedposts at the foot of the bed with the polka dot silk scarves. Your legs held invitingly apart…

You had carefully tied another silk scarf as a blindfold… before finally clicking the handcuffs closed around your wrists, tethered to the cold steel of the ornate bed head. That final act of submission had left you helpless… at the mercy of the unfolding adventure…

You know how much I desire you… the intense lust I struggle to control. The demons contained within me that you are determined to unleash. You know this… and much more. You have prepared for me meticulously… blood red lips… the black lace lingerie perfect against your pale skin. Thin, like gossamer… barely concealing you… and in places simply unable to conceal the arousal you are feeling.

You hear the door opening… your body tenses in pure anticipation of what is to come. Your sweet surrender so soon to be rewarded. That moment so rapidly approaching.

You loved toying with me… teasing me with glimpses of what I yearn to see. Letting me see just enough… but no more. Never quite enough to satisfy my lust for you. You know this.

…but now the time has come. Your deliverance to me. My turn to tease… to torment… to torture.

That first touch… fingers stroking the calves of your legs… running down to your feet… delicious through the fabric of your stockings. The stockings that made you feel so very sexy when you wore them… now that sexiness was real. Your body tingles. You feel the weight on the bed beside you. The fingers disappear… leaving you desperate. Your lips parted as you inhale deeply. The lips you always touch when you think of me.

You feel the fingers return. Brushing your cheek… and then on either side of your neck. Your whole being is on fire… as the fingers, barely touching, continue across your chest. Tracing the silky straps of your bra… down. You are burning inside… deep inside. Delicately they touch the fullness of your breasts… the thin lace struggling to contain you as you gasp. The fingers circle your hardening nipples through the texture of the material. You exhale deeply as the fingers gently tease them. Your back arches… pushing your chest upwards to meet your torturer.

The fingers find the edge of the fabric that encases your breasts… slowly peeling it away… exposing you… freeing you. Your nipples proud and urgent… their darkness against your pale skin… desperate for attention. You feel a tongue touch… then circle your hardness… as fingers squeeze the other. Your breathing now coming faster… your mind dizzy at the intoxicating thoughts swirling around. The torment is becoming almost too much to bear… your hands desperate to be free from their restraint. Your whole body quivers with the intense torture your senses are struggling to contain.

There is a brief pause in your sensual onslaught… the fingers and tongue disappear… only to return. Now trailing across your soft belly. Fingers brush your sides… you shiver. Slowly they move down… hardly touching you… but they are there. You are moaning softly as they lightly caress the soft inside of your thighs above your stockings. Your mind sees yourself… your sweet submission… your surrender… exposed and restrained. The picture you see is so overwhelmingly sensual… your fantasy becoming reality… your dream is here and now.

You feel the fingers approach… your legs stiffen… your senses are deprived of the stimulation you crave… you crave to touch… to taste… to see. Instead, your mind is going crazy with the torture you are enduring… the delicious torture. You long for release… to feel the sensations build inside of you. For so long you have waited… the aching inside… for too long it has been your own fingers administering the pleasures that you desperately need. Longing for your master. For him to liberate you… free you from the shackles of everyday life… to set free the wild horses inside you.

When that touch arrived… it was as though your entire body had become completely beyond your control… such was the intensity of the waves of sheer pleasure. The fingers delicately touched your most intimate place through the fine lace of your panties…  one finger slowly and precisely teased you along the length of your delicious place… your temple.

Your body began to writhe… your hips moving against the movement of the touch. You feel warm breath through the lace… the fingers carefully pulled aside the lace… your arousal is impossible to hide… your lips swollen and ready. Gently the fingers go about their heavenly work… you open your thighs in surrender… frantically pleading for more… the fingers part your lips and find your most sensitive of places…

You know the moment is coming… it doesn’t prepare you though… nothing ever could… it is as though the tongue is delivering a magical spell on your whole body… at first delicately teasing… but then forceful… first probing your depths, devouring you, and then pressing hard against your erect clit… you can feel your orgasm begin to build… wave upon wave… each one stronger than the last… your body no longer your own… you are overcome with carnal desires.

Your moans are becoming more urgent… you are so close… you struggle to be free… to return the passion… to participate in the giving of intense pleasure… I know you are ready… I know…

The point of no return is approaching… the sensations are becoming violently intense as the tongue hungrily devours your nectar… that is when your whole world begins to spin… the moment you feel my lips kiss you and find your tongue… stifling your cries… as the other tongue tastes your climax… your release…

The end (or the beginning?)

The Dream…

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It has been a couple of months since I have written anything… several reasons I suppose. Firstly, I lost some inspiration following a rather unpleasant online experience, and secondly I have been focussing more on my photography. To a certain extent, I thought I had lost my mojo… but recently I have somehow restored my motivation, not least because I have had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of a woman who has inspired me to write again. Even though we have never met in person, something inside us both connected in a deeply meaningful way. She has been an enigma to me for some time… I have admired the imagery she has posted to her Instagram account for some time and I could sense a kindred spirit. A sensual soul who has a depth I simply had to explore. We have become extremely close… sharing ideas and passions with an enthusiasm that is so refreshing and exciting. Her sensuality to me is quite intoxicating and I find her in my thoughts a great deal of the time. I shared with her a dream I had which I found intensely vivid and entered around the general direction some of our conversations have taken. In so many respects I have seen her as my muse… and there has been a slight hint of me taking on the role of “Master” in these conversations. This is a new experience for me… but something I am finding incredibly arousing. So anyway. I am going to share the dream I had here in my blog in it’s entirety. I know she will read it… which makes me so very nervous, but I had to do it because it has had a profoundly sensual effect upon me. Here goes!

The Dream.

I knew you could hear the key in the lock as I turned it. I had instructed you to wait patiently for me. I knew you would. I knew you would be there, just as I told you. I slowly opened the door… longing for that very first time my eyes see you for real. In the flesh. You are more beautiful than I could have imagined. You come into view as the door opens. I stifle a gasp.

You are sitting on a chair facing the door, in the middle of the room. You are dressed exactly as I had asked. A white shirt of beautiful thin cotton, perfectly fitting your delicious body. A black skirt which hugs your curves and stops just above the knees. Black stockings adorn your smooth legs, and black shoes with high heels complement your slim legs. Your hands rest on your knees… waiting. You cannot see me, but you know I am there. The silk scarf covers your eyes, tied at the back of your head. I can see your chest rise and fall in anticipation as you breath. I approach you.

The atmosphere is like electricity between us. We have been waiting for this moment for so long. Your lips are slightly apart… beautiful in the dark red lipstick. I see your tongue move slowly across them, almost tasting the tension. I stand before you… devouring you with my eyes. Taking in every detail of you. The rich chestnut colour of your hair. The skin like porcelain. The fabric of your bra… visible against the white cotton if your shirt. The fullness of your beautiful breasts.

My eyes drop. Your figure hugging skirt accentuating the pure femininity of your thighs… and then the sheer texture of your stockings. Your delicate hands clutching your knees. The wonderful muscles of your calves… enhanced by the black high heeled shoes. I whisper your name… You gasp.

I move my hand towards you… almost terrified of touching my beautiful muse. But I do. So very gently, I delicately brush my fingers along the underside of one of your breasts… your whole body responds. An uncontrollable tremble runs through your whole being. You throw your head back. I remove my hand and watch. No words are needed. I know you want me to replace it.

Slowly I bring my face to yours. This moment has been so very long in coming. My lips touch yours… and I gently run my hand across your cheek.

I feel your tongue on my lips… delicately exploring me. Tasting me for the very first time. There is an urgency as our hunger for each other takes hold. We kiss deeply, tongues entwined.

I pull slowly away and watch you… your breathing is now heavy and your breasts strain against their constraints. I am mesmerised by your beauty. The pure sensuality that you own and that has been hidden from me for so long. I reach for the buttons of your shirt. Although your eyes are covered, you can see in your mind what I am doing. You have wanted this for so long. Ravenous for my touch. You tremble with desire for your Master…

Gradually, the beauty of your body is exposed to me as I unbutton your shirt. My eyes fall upon the wonderful cleavage of your breasts. I hear you whisper… “please…”.

I slowly open your shirt… I gasp. I was not prepared for the magnificence that is before me. The pictures you had sent me were beautiful… but I am overwhelmed by what my eyes have before them. The delicate lace that encases your voluptuous femininity… the tiny bow in the middle… the fabric cannot conceal your arousal. It is quite obvious.

My desire to touch you is overpowering and I give in. my fingers settle on the delicious fabric of your bra and delicately trace the intricate patterns that cover your breast. I can hear you panting breaths. Your hands grasping your knees tightly…. desperately resisting your desire to reach for me. You know that is not allowed… yet…

My fingers run along the edge of your bra… where fabric meets flesh. Very gently I slip my fingers beneath the fabric. I feel the softness. The fullness. The lace peels back as my hand encircles you. I can feel the weight of your breast in my hand…. your breathing is rasping now… the desperation so very apparent. My thumb brushes your hard nipple. Tentatively at first. Feeling your shiver. I draw little circles around your beautiful sensitive skin with my fingers.

I slowly bring my mouth to it and delicately take it between my teeth… your chest now heaving uncontrollably with desire.  Your hands now clawing at your thighs… your skirt riding up.

I move away from you and watch. My muse is in a deeply erotic and sensual heaven. I want this moment to last forever.

I slowly drop to my knees at your feet… taking in every detail of you. I slowly run my hand along your stocking covered skin. You visibly tremble at the touch. I do the same with the other, stroking your beautiful legs and appreciating your smoothness beneath the the sheer material. One hand glides over your knee… and reaches your thigh, briefly touching your hand. You desperately want to reach for me… but you know the rules of our game…

My fingers find the cool skin above your stocking… You are struggling to control yourself… the delicious torment. I reach for your other silken thigh… ‘Did you do as I said?’ I ask…. you nod your head vigorously ‘Yesss’ you stammer. Your voice breaking slightly at the immense sensuality of what is happening. I can see your cheeks are burning… your mouth is dry and you slowly run your tongue along your lips.

‘Show me…’ I tell you. Incredibly slowly you part your thighs. The tension in the air is as though the world has stopped turning. My eyes drop from your face… their gaze falls on the smoothness of your thighs as they gradually reveal their secrets. I have forgotten to breath. I am entirely enthralled… completely under your spell, and you know it.

Without me uttering a word… your hand moves beneath the edge of your skirt. My eyes follow. Your fingers glide along your thigh… I am suffocating with desire for you. You slowly and so incredibly delicately run a finger along the swollen lips of your of your most intimate of places…. I hear you inhale deeply at your own touch. I can only watch… as a rabbit in headlights as you gently tease yourself.

As I watch… you spread your stocking clad legs even wider, your skirt riding high and exposing you to my hungry eyes. You gently pull apart your delicious lips and show me a glimpse of something I only dreamt of. You are so very wet and your clit is so very prominent… desperately needing….

With one movement you raise a hand and pull the silk scarf from your eyes… I see the fire burning within you. Our eyes locked. Your hand drops back to the heavenly place… I devour you with my eyes as you delicately but purposefully begin to touch yourself.

My arousal is intense as I watch in pure lust at the wonderful sight before me… You know what you are doing to me… as your fingers go about their delicious work. I gasp as you gently place a finger inside yourself… enveloped in your heavenly pinkness… your head thrown back.

I can see the intense pleasure in your face as you reveal to me what you have been doing as we have chatted… but this time it is for real. You know my eyes are on your every movement.

I see the wetness your arousal has caused… the delicious nectar I have lost sleep over. You know this… Slowly you withdraw your finger… and painfully slowly bring it to my lips. I smell your pure femininity as I touch your finger with my tongue… before hungrily devouring it.

Your other hand reaches for my hair… your fingers tightly clenched, you pull my face to your secret place… I am at your mercy. I know you desire this. I run my tongue along the length of your beautiful lips and find your most sensitive part… my tongue pushes into you and slowly presses up against your clit… your whole body is shaking. I taste your arousal. I hear your voice… ‘Take me my master… now’

Sharing The Love….

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Art work courtesy of @tastyartgurlerotic3

Apologies for the hiatus in my blog updates… I have been a bit overwhelmed with work for the past couple of months and have also lost touch with my psychologist friend who I relied upon to talk through my experiences with and help me interpret their meanings and significance.

Anyways, during this absence I had found myself thinking quite a lot about one particular period in my life of which I have really quite intense memories. Central to these memories was an encounter with probably the most liberated two people I have ever met. They were deeply in love with each other and yet completely disinhibited sexually, their trust for each other was beyond question.

I had just arrived in London having returned from living in the Middle East for a few years and was living Primrose Hill, a leafy enclave nestled between St John’s Wood and Camden Town. I spent a lot of time socialising and getting to know people in my new environment. Primrose Hill has always had something of a Bohemian atmosphere about it, being home to many artists and writers over the years, and has become a particularly trendy bolt hole for for actors, musicians, models and many from the creative world generally.

It was a quite intensely hedonistic time for me. Single, with money in my pocket, I was certainly enjoying myself and my new community of friends and acquaintances. A regular haunt was a pub in the heart of Primrose Hill which was always busy and had real buzz about it. I used to be found there most evenings, soaking up the vibe and generally watching the world go by.

I had befriended a young middle aged couple, John and Julia, with whom I had quickly struck up a rapport. She worked in the city and he was a partner in a design consultancy. We shared a passion for music, and John and I had a great love of photography. Many an evening was spent chatting over a bottle of wine (or two) before going our separate ways. It was on one such evening that they invited me over to their place. I was new to digital photography and as John worked in graphic design and working with digital images all the time, it was the perfect opportunity for me to get some pointers on how to use my new camera with my computer.

There was distinct tension in the air whenever we met. Not an uncomfortable one, it is difficult to explain. It was as though I was being flirted with. Something unsaid. Not blatant innuendo, just a certain ambiguity.

I agreed to call around that Friday after work, intrigued by my new friends and eager to discover more.

As I stood at the door of the large Georgian terrace I could hear the sound of heals on the tiled hallway. Julia opened the heavy door and greeted me with her usual warm smile. She had also just finished a long week in her office and judging by the large G and T in her hand was in the mood to relax.

“Hi Jim. John will be home later but shouldn’t be too long so come on in.”

I followed her through the spacious tiled hallway to the lounge. “Fancy a drink?” I thanked her and asked for a vodka tonic. As she walked through to the kitchen to prepare my drink I watched her. Julia is probably around 45 and of average height. This evening she appeared taller in her heels. A well-kept woman looking good for her age, she looked spectacular in her work clothes. A sheer white blouse and fitted skirt stopping just above her knees. Her figure had the fullness that mature women carry so well yet retaining an elegance that younger women struggle to achieve. The fullness of her breasts accentuated by the sheerness of her blouse and the white lace of her bra revealing itself where it touched.

She returned with my drink, momentarily breaking my train of thought, but only momentarily. As she placed the drink on the coffee table in front of me she flicked her highlighted bobbed hair from her eyes and caught me briefly gazing at her breasts. I quickly looked away and complimented the pictures on the wall. They were mainly photographs by John, several urban black and white shots and a couple of portraits of Julia. The portraits were not the cheesy wedding style shots but stylishly taken natural light pictures taken candidly but perfectly capturing Julia’s beauty. “Johns passion” she told me, “natural light, and black and white.”

“They are very good. Particularly the portraits,” I told her. She sat down at the coffee table and crossed her stockinged legs. Whilst sipping from her drink she told me that John particularly enjoyed photographing the female form, and that she found it quite erotic, not the over the top kind of stuff on the web, tasteful well lit portraits. I agreed, “It is wonderful the way a talented photographer can capture in one image the passions that feed the mind, without resorting to a graphic series of images which tend to look stilted and choreographed.” She was impressed. “A woman does not need titillation like that. Just that special hint of something. It allows space for the mind to explore.”

I could only sit and admire this woman. Elegant, mature, and with clear views of sexuality and the power of the mind. My admiration was starting to become obvious as I kept glancing at the crossed legs and the way one foot curled around the calf of her other leg. Again I was snared. A smile crept to her lips as she knowingly let the heel of a shoe slip, leaving the shiny leather dangling from her elevated toes.

“What is it that you look for in images Jim? Are you a tits’n ass kind of man, or am I being too open?”

“Not in the least Julia. It is usually subtle things that arouse me. Simplicity. The tension a bra causes on a woman’s back. Loose flowing cotton over naked skin.”

“All very heterosexual. All very female orientated then,” she interrupted.

“Well….”

At that point there was the sound of the front door closing. John was back. “Julia. Julia I’m home.”

“We are in here,” Julia called.

John came into the room carrying a battered messenger bag and wearing his usual denims and a leather jacket over a white T-shirt.

“Hi Jim. How goes it? I see Julia is looking after you.”

“Good John, very good. How was your day?” I replied.

“Oh the usual stuff. Deadlines and more deadlines… Pour me a drink love. We will be through in the study. Come on Jim its through here.” John strode back into the hall, kissing Julia fully as he went.

I followed him, still partially stunned by Julia’s last comment to me.

John’s study was adjacent to the lounge. A sofa sat along one wall whilst a huge desk sat in the opposite bay window. The walls were covered with photographs, many of them pictures of Julia. On the desk sat a powerful looking Mac with a large flat screen. At the desk were a couple of chairs.

“Sit down Jim,” John said pointing at one of them. I walked towards the desk whilst taking in the pictures.

“So what is it you are having problems with Jim?” John asks me.

“Well its mainly Lightroom issues.”

“Not a problem any more. I am your man,” he replies throwing his leather jacket over the back of the other chair and firing up the Mac.

Whilst this was going on Julia has returned with John’s drink and a top up for me. I cannot help but notice that her blouse has been unbuttoned a little further than it was previously. The angle of her reaching has caused it to gape and reveal. I could only stare, captivated, and uncomfortably aroused. This woman was teasing me to an extent that would become too obvious too soon.

“I think I will take a bath John. You boys are OK with that aren’t you?”

“Fire ahead babe,” John replied. “We are fine. I am going to work through a few pics with Jim.”

John tapped a few keys on the Mac and opened up Photoshop. “So what do you find tricky?”

“Well it’s tweaking my pics really. When white is too white and black is too black. No detail, you know?” I replied.

“Gotcha. You want to sort out the exposure. I’ll open a few pics and we can play around a bit.”

John scrolled through some files and opened up a photo of Julia. I will never forget that picture. It was a waist up shot and all she was wearing was a beautiful white bra. The fullness of her breasts pressing against the fabric. All the while John was telling me technical aspects of the shot and I was not hearing a word. A few clicks later and I was seeing a full frame close-up of one breast. The detail was fantastic. The texture of Julia’s nipple was visible through the lace of the bra.

“………You are not listening Jim!” John said loudly.

“I am so sorry John. It is just that the pic. is so good…. I was taken away.”

“I can see that Jim!” he replied looking down at my crotch. “She’s wonderful to photograph. Let me put on a little slide show for you. Maybe that will get it out of your system!” With that he quickly typed a few commands and immediately the screen darkened and then flickered to life. The pictures changed every ten seconds or so. It was a series of pictures depicting Julia undressing. It was really erotic stuff. Not over the top, just sexy shots of a mature woman. That was until the next photo! The camera view had widened and panned. Two guys were sitting on a sofa naked. Both of them had large erections. What made the scene really provocative was that one of the guys was holding the others cock. It was then that I realised that the guy being held was John! Not only that, it was taken in this very room! My heart was racing and my cock was solid. I looked over at John. To my amazement he was holding his cock luridly through his jeans. As I watched he began removing his clothes, standing and letting his jeans fall to the floor.

“You are welcome to join me Jim. In fact Julia will be back soon and she will be so disappointed if things haven’t started hotting up.”

“Are you sure John? I mean this seems like a dream”

“Just get naked Jim. Not shy are you?”

I responded by simply gazing at John’s now rampant cock. The large purple head was totally engorged and a bead of pre-cum had formed at the tip. I slowly began to unfasten my jeans, letting them fall to the floor and kicked my shoes off. The sudden freedom allowed my cock to fully harden and start bursting through from the tight foreskin. As I removed my T-shirt, in that moment of blindness, I felt a hand on my cock. The T-shirt gone, John was standing close and loosely holding my oozing hardness. As I watched, John gently ran a finger around the head of my cock and caught a dribble of pre-cum. He slowly massaged the juice into his left nipple and then licked his finger clean. Our two cocks were now gently bouncing off each other, duelling and blending the free-flowing fluid. I lowered my head and brought my lips to the nipple, tasting myself.

Unbeknown to John and myself, Julia had returned. She was standing by the sofa wearing exactly the same white underwear that she had worn in the pictures. It dawned on me that all of this was a plot. I was a willing participant in a devious seduction that they had schemed, and probably one they had enacted before.

Julia slowly sat down on the sofa, and without saying a word lay back and slipped a hand inside her panties and guided a finger to her clit. John took hold of my cock again and led me towards her. Standing at her feet, John pressed me down to my knees by my shoulders. I needed no more guidance. John’s cock was alongside my head whilst I watched Julia’s frantic fingers. I turned my head slowly and took John into my mouth. An almost silent gasp came from Julia as I held John firmly with my lips. I could feel the warmth of her skin against mine as I went to work. I perched on the edge of the sofa and slowly but urgently rose up and down on the shaft of Johns cock. Julia’s elbow nudging me as she slid her slender fingers through the wet groove of her pussy. I watched as I sucked on John. His head was thrown back in his approaching orgasm. I took John from my mouth and wanked the solid manhood. Julia had pulled down the fabric of a cup of her bra and was pulling her nipple between her fingers, her other hand still doing their own magic. I could feel the solidness of Johns cock start to intensify, and his balls had tightened. Julia could sense his imminent cum and arched her back to greet it. With a firm long pull on John’s cock I could tell he could hold on no longer. With a deep groan John’s cock erupted, a violent spurt of cum arced through the air and fell on Julia, some on her bra but most on her exposed breast. A second less violent jet landed on her panties covering her busy hand. The remainder of John’s orgasm trickled down my milking hand. Julia reached for my shoulder and pulled me down to her breast. I eagerly started to lick her heavy breast, devouring the cream her partner had deposited. Her thick, hard nipple felt wonderful between my lips. I lifted my head and Julia kissed me deeply, devouring the cum from my tongue. With a gentle pressure she pushed me down to her panties. I could smell her deeply feminine wetness mixed with John’s cum. As my tongue probed her labia John was being fed cum from her mouth. His cock was resting by my cheek, I turned and took his semi erect and oozing cock into my mouth. He was slowly hardening again with my attentions. My head bobbing, I slid the wet panties down Julia’s silky thighs. The wet fabric clinging to one slender foot, she parted her legs. I took John’s cock from my mouth and brought it to Julia’s waiting wetness, running my tongue along one of the lips as I teased her clit with the head of his now solid cock. Julia gripped his waist firmly and pulled, forcing him into her as I guided his thrust. Briefly motionless, John started slowly gliding out then in again, my tongue greeting the exposed length of the shaft. The mingled tastes sent my head spinning. My cock by now had reached the point where it desperately needed attention. I firmly gripped myself and then felt Julia’s hand clutching my wrist and pulling my hand away, only for it to be replaced by her waiting mouth. Hungrily she sucked hard on my dripping hardness whilst John drove deeply. I felt the sear of cum start it’s inevitable journey. I pulled away from Julia just before I exploded, her mouth pleading for satisfaction. A thick rope of cum flew across her chin and over her breasts, as John continued his journey into satisfying the couple’s frantic needs. She threw back her head and arched her back as I reached for her swollen clit, her hands clinging to the sofa as John’s urgency took over. My fingers frantically worked on her, desperately trying to intensify the approaching violence of her approaching ecstasy. She moaned unintelligibly as her whole body began to spasm uncontrollably. With my free hand I massaged her heaving wet breasts, coating my fingers with my seed. I raised my hand to John’s gasping mouth and fed him. This was the trigger for his release. I could feel the shaft of his cock swell against my fingers as he filled her. Julia was shaking as the overwhelming sensation rippled through her body. John collapsed forwards across her, his breathing heavy from his exertions. She clung to him as they came down and I watched on… alone.

Led Astray…

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When I look back over the years at my sexual encounters, I have discovered that some aspects seem to be common factors in many of them. Take age for instance. Quite a few of my experiences have involved older lovers. I have thought long and hard as to why that might be and have been drawn to the conclusion that this is probably because of one of the other recurring aspects… I am aroused by the notion of being led astray. This explains my attraction to more mature playmates, their experience and being less inhibited in their demands, manifests itself as them taking a very leading role in the encounters. Even in my last blog post, Emma, though the same age as me, took the leading role in regards inviting the other man into our play. Had she not done that, then it very likely wouldn’t have happened. She led me into accepting him.

We mustn’t forget the “forbidden fruit” component either… the tantalising reward, the lure. In my first blog post, Patrick seduced me. He implanted an idea which he knew I could not resist. Such is the intoxicating nature of the desires to fulfil what had only been fantasy. I genuinely believe that the only way we can ever manage this, is by allowing ourselves to be exposed. Rid ourselves of the constraints that convention shackles us with, and embrace new experiences. 

I ran this past my wonderful friend and confidant and she suggested that I was displaying typical “submissive” traits in this. I was taken aback at first. I had never considered that. I explained that I enjoyed the power that I felt in my giving pleasure, and she replied that this is a huge component in the submissive role and not to be fooled by the job title! It was becoming clearer to me that she was right. I was relinquishing the responsibility of “leading” the direction of play by permitting others to “lead me astray”.

My story today centres on an encounter that occurred when I was mid twenties. I was at my parents home during the Easter break from my studies. They were away on holiday and I was looking after the house for them. 

I had spent the day out climbing with friends and returned to the house around seven in the evening. It was unseasonably warm weather we were having, and even though the sun was going down, it was still pleasant enough to sit out. I got myself a beer and went out into the yard. It was a lovely evening and I decided to roll myself a joint to have with my beer in the setting sun. I’ve never been big on drugs but during university years I did mess around a bit… as everyone else did. 

As I sat in the evening light I could hear my neighbour, Mrs Moore, getting her two year old ready for bed. It was such a peaceful scene, starlings calling as they prepared to roost for the night. All was good. The joint was hitting the spot.

I was disturbed from my daydreams when I heard Mrs Moore calling my name. I opened my eyes and saw her walking from her kitchen into the garden to gather her drying laundry. “Can I smell what I think I can JIm?” She asked me, with a grin on her face. Flustered, I replied “I don’t know what you mean Mrs Moore”. “Don’t play the innocent with me young man!” She mocked me as she plucked clothes from the line. She smiled knowingly. I blushed.

I had always admired Mrs Moore. Her husband was always working away and when he was home he spent most evenings in local bars. She pretty much did everything for the child and held down a part time job as well. That aside, I had always found her an attractive woman. She generally dressed conservatively, but as a young man, her very womanly charms were not lost on me. She appeared at first rather plain, but there was something alluring about her. I would guess she was around her early forties or so, a little younger than my mother. Shoulder length brown hair, usually always tied up, and a olive complexion which revealed her Mediterranean roots. 

As she made her way back to the house I watched. She was wearing a button through summer frock which flattered her curves, which was unusual because she would normally have a cardigan concealing her figure. “So when the cats away the mice will play” she giggled. I smiled. She obviously knew my parents were abroad. “Fancy sharing some of that?” She asked. Taken aback “Really? Well are you sure?” I blurted in reply. “I was doing that when you were a twinkle in your mothers eye Young man!” She told me. “Let me get Toby to bed and I’ll open a bottle of wine”.

I was stunned. My mind was racing, unaccustomed to my neighbour being so forward. I had always seen her as quite reserved and rather staid. Almost matronly. 

About fifteen minutes passed until Mrs Moore appeared at her back door and waved me over. As I entered her kitchen I asked where Mr Moore was and she said he was in Paris for the week. She got two glasses from a cupboard and opened the fridge door. “White Ok?” She asked. “Yes Mrs Moore” I replied. “Well you can stop calling me Mrs Moore straight away! Especially if we’re going to share a spliff” she said laughing. “Call me Anne”. I was blushing again. She began pouring the wine and we chatted about how university was going as I rolled a joint at the kitchen table. As we chatted I couldn’t keep my eyes from her. The front of her dress was soaked from bathing her son Toby before bed. The fabric of her bra was visible where her breasts touched her dress. The strap had slipped from her shoulder and hung down her arm. I sprinkled the weed into the cigarette papers. “It’s been twenty years since I did this…. Glastonbury Festival!” She said as she walked towards where I sat with the two glasses of wine. I am sure she knew I was watching her. I took a glass from her, “Cheers Jim!” I raised my glass to hers and we chinked them together. I could feel her eyes on me as she brought the glass to her lips and sat down in the chair beside me. She crossed her legs slowly and caught my downward gaze as I rolled the joint. Silky smooth and toned, the lower two buttons of her dress were undone and exposed her soft thighs. One of her sandals dangled from her foot precariously. I brought the joint to my lips and lit up, drawing on it deeply and then passing it over to her. She slipped a hand inside the shoulder of her dress and retrieved the slipped bra strap, watching my eyes as she did so. I detected a hint of a smile. She inhaled deeply on the joint… her full breasts pressing against the fabric of the dress. The damp material like a second skin, revealing her femininity. I was mesmerised by her, and she knew it. She exhaled and took a sip from her glass leaving just a hint of lipstick on the rim. She handed me back the joint and stood up. She stepped nearer to me and reached up to a shelf above me and switched on some music. I could feel my body responding. I was being toyed with. Every movement she made was designed for specific effect… and it was working. My words came out as stuttered nonsense. I was completely captivated. The tension in the room was unbearable. She was talking to me and I wasn’t hearing her, such was the effect of her proximity. I felt her leg brush mine as she returned to the table. Instead of sitting in the chair she perched herself on the edge of the table. “You’re not listening Jim!” She spoke. “I’m sorry I’m sorry” I stammered, brutally aware of my embarrassment. “I said! He doesn’t look at me like that anymore” she said. “Who?” I replied, “like what?” I added. “Don’t play dumb Jim.. I’m not fucking stupid. You’ve been undressing me with your eyes ever since you walked through the door!” She said, her voiced raised. I couldn’t find any words. I just stared back at her, mute. I got to my feet and turned towards the door. I felt her hand grab my shirt and stop me in my tracks. “Oh no you don’t!” She hissed. I turned towards her. I will always remember the look in her eyes. “Go on… touch them”. I froze. She took my hand and brought it to her breast.. Slowly she released my hand. Still she stared at me. Gently I let my hand explore the contours. I could feel her breathing become heavier as my hand gradually encircled her and stroked the tense fabric of her dress and her breast beneath. My thumb searched for and found her hardening nipple. I felt her hands begin to unbutton the front of her dress, her hair brushing my face as she looked down. I shivered. She looked up and brought her face to mine. The kiss was tentative. Gently brushing lips. Then savage. Desperate and wild, our tongues hungrily probing deeply, discovering. My hand slid inside her open frock and clawed at the heavy lace. I found the edge of the fabric and pulled down, allowing her to spill free. I felt her do the same with her other breast and push down on my shoulder. Gradually I kissed my way down her neck, down, down. I could feel the perspiration on the heaving flesh of her breasts. With one hand she held my head and pulled it to her breast which she cupped in her other. I licked the deliciously roughness of her hard nipple. Gently I took it in my mouth and delicately nibbled… “Harder!” She groaned at me. Hungrily I obeyed. My hand reached for her other breast. I roughly squeezed the voluptuousness of her. Her thighs gripped my torso as she slid back in the table… her dress fell apart. I looked up at her and saw a woman possessed. Her eyes piercing mine. She grabbed my head in both hands and pushed me down. Our eyes were locked as I followed her guidance. My chin rested on her lace covered pubis, her eyes instructing me. With one hand she pulled the damp material aside and pressed down on my head. Her musky smell filled my nostrils as I gently ran my tongue delicately along the length of her swollen lips. Violently, she pulled at my hair and ground herself against my face. “Fucking eat me!” She snarled whilst kneading at her breast with one hand. I gently parted her thighs wider and began to devour her delicious femininity, exploring every fold. My fingers probing her pinkness. First one then two, sliding against the smooth walls as I focussed on her clit with my tongue. With one hand I struggled to remove my shorts… the moment had taken over completely. I slowly got to my feet. As I did so she brought her thighs back together and I slid her panties down her legs and she spread them wide again, wrapping her legs around me, drawing me closer. She reached for me, gripping firmly. Slowly she began to part her lips with the engorged purple head. I looked at her before me. An intensely erotic vision… this beautiful mature woman spread before me. Even in her dominance, she retained an exquisite vulnerability. She had led me astray… and now she had unleashed me. The roles had shifted, for now she was mine. Where her eyes had been full of confident intent… they now told a story of a desperate yearning.

A Stranger.

 

 

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Image courtesy of @tastartgurlerotic3

In today’s post I am going to explore my memories of the first time a third person was introduced to my lovemaking… I say lovemaking because there was the emotional attachment that is missing from the previous blog posts. I write about this because of it’s relevance in my sexual/emotional development… in many respects it was a pivotal moment and has been a backdrop to so many of my erotic fantasies ever since. Emotionally it is of enormous significance to me because it challenged my previously held view that sexual pleasure in a loving relationship had to be enjoyed solely between the couple. I had struggled with the guilt I harboured through my promiscuous activities, and this was because of my upbringing and how sexuality was dealt with in my family… or not, as the case may be!

That aside, there is still a certain social taboo associated with extra-relationship sexual encounters. Of course we all know it happens, but never in an open , transparent natural way. It is always regarded as an object of gossip and rumour… a point of fun making, and clearly the behaviour of kinky perverts. Then there is the question of “How could she/he ever let him/her fuck another?” ….and the endless denial that each and every one of us has of secret fantasies in our minds and never explores beyond the constraints of monogamous relationships. This is before we even consider the jealousies that are unleashed.

 

Jealousy is one of our most visceral of responses and can be triggered incredibly easily by a vast array of influences and once our psyche starts to process these the outcomes can be quite devastating in effect, not only to the host of the feelings but to the relationship as well. 

I generally feel in control of any irrational jealous responses I might experience, but such is the intoxicating nature of the emotion that I have fallen into it’s trap, even when the “threat” to the relationship is really quite irrational. Recently I have experienced precisely that… falling for someone online and even though, intellectually, I am fully aware of their ongoing commitments to their “real life” relationship, the pangs of jealousy I have experienced have been quite intensely palpable, even having never met the person.

The complexities and vagaries of how jealousy manifests itself in our psyche are far beyond the scope of this little blog missive. Suffice it to say that it was not a factor in the encounter I am describing here, far from it.

Jealousy, whilst being a potentially painful and destructive force, also has a positive value in that it drives individuals to examine their behaviours if they are to maintain their valued relationship.

There is a fly in this ointment… Polyamorists talk of “Compersion”, essentially the opposite of jealousy. The idea being that whatever makes your partner happy is pleasing to you. Wonderful in concept, but requires a deep understanding between the individuals for the visceral nature of jealousy to be authentically overcome. Feeling secure in a relationship is an intoxicating item, with even the slightest hint of it being breached invoking intense responses.

Personally, I don’t see myself as truly compersive, or for that matter, at all. I adore giving pleasure, I adore my partner experiencing pleasure. Do I experience the same pleasure if I am isolated from the experience. Well no. If I am complicit, that is different. It is actively consensual between us. It is clear between us that our mutual joy is relevant.

My experience involves a complete stranger participating in my partner and I’s sexual play… perhaps his being a stranger allowed me to overcome any feelings of jealousy that arose. I can honestly say that at no point did I feel any emotional anxiety during the encounter, or for that matter since, indeed if anything the sexual activity between myself and my partner was enhanced considerably by it.

During the summer break from university, I found myself in the Greek islands backpacking, hopping from one island to another, sleeping in cheap accommodation or on the beach. About a week in I hooked up with a girl, Emma, who was on a gap year. We hit it off straight away as we were both at Manchester University although with 20,000 students and on different faculties, we hadn’t met before. This was in the early to mid eighties and the music scene in the city was electric and ecstasy had taken hold. We both went to the same clubs and enjoyed the same bands… it wasn’t long before things developed between us and our relationship took on a more intimate nature.

After about three weeks of simply enjoying each other and moving around the islands, partying late and sleeping even later, we found ourselves in a remote corner of Corfu. The south of the island is full of tourists during the summer, but in the north the island is much wilder and less spoiled. On this particular day we had been having lunch in a small beachside taverna, miles from anywhere. Only a handful of families enjoying the normal civilised family things that families do on beaches. The lingering lunch had taken it’s toll and a bottle of wine worse for wear we took to the beach. We found a secluded cove backed by dunes where we threw down our towels and snoozed of the boozy lunch. It was quite idyllic… distant sounds of children playing, waves gently lapping.  

We awoke a couple of hours later and the sun was now much lower in the sky. The families had all gone and we were alone. The setting sun was the perfect backdrop as we made our way down to the water, hand in hand. Emma had removed her bikini top and her nakedness was having its effect. The remoteness, the freedom. Without even thinking I pulled off my shorts and we ran into the waves, giggling at our boldness. It was like a cliche scene from a romantic movie. Young lovers making out in crashing waves as the sun goes down… or at least that’s how I remember it through the rose tinted retrospective spectacles! In truth, we were just as horny as fuck and it could have been a downtown parking lot for all we cared.

Long story short… we made our way back to our towels and dried ourselves off. Emma giggled as I shyly tried to conceal my erection. “Don’t be so silly! No one is here” she scolded me and snatched my towel away… I stood before her with my cock standing obscenely erect. I could see the gleam in her eye as she reached for me. I gasped as her hand grasped the shaft. My knees were trembling. Slowly she stroked me, firmly but slowly. Her eyes were fixed on my glistening cock head as she milked precum from me. She drew closer and delicately ran the tip of her tongue around the rim of my helmet. The sensations were like electricity. Without warning, she took me fully in her mouth, swirling her tongue around the head, all the while staring me in the eyes. I reached down and ran my fingers through her wet hair. Her firm grip around my shaft, backwards and forwards. I slowly pulled away from her and lowered myself to the ground. As I lay on my back Emma untied her bikini bottom and moved towards me, straddling my waist, her glazed expression was a picture of pure erotic desire. I could feel the moist heat of her pussy on my tummy. My cock nestled between her ass cheeks. I reached for her breasts, feeling the delicious weight of them and tracing a finger around each nipple. The puckered skin of her areola reacting immediately, her nipples hardening. My fingers tracing the sensual contours. Slowly she began to shuffle up my body. I knew what she wanted. I wanted it too. Her swollen wet lips protruded from her close cropped hair… her arousal only too apparent. As she approached, a movement in the corner of my eye caught my attention. A man was approaching along the waters edge. I nudged Emma.. “There’s someone coming!” I made to move her off me but she ground down hard on my chest, clamping me to the sand. “I am NOT stopping now!” She hissed at me. Our arousal took over and I grabbed her hips and pulled her to me. I felt her hands grab my head by the hair and pull my face into her pussy. I was hers… and yet she was mine. I knew her needs. My tongue searched the length of her and found its goal. I pulled her lips apart and delicately ran the tip of my tongue across her clit… her whole body responded. Her trembling turned into an intense spasm as her body responded to this most intimate of stimuli. I slid my tongue inside her and drank from her copious juices. She pressed down hard on my face and I felt her hands pulling my hair. I was in heaven. My sole objective was to give pleasure… pure unbridled pleasure. She reached behind her and grabbed my erect cock, my precum flowing freely from my sheer arousal as I fucked her with my tongue. A deep yet feminine growl emanated from her. “I want you inside me” she moaned, and began to slide herself down my body. Her erect nipples grazing my chest. She reached between us and grasped me, guiding me to where she needed me. I could feel the engorged head of my cock parting her lips and she began her slow downward journey… delicately impaling herself. That beautiful moment when my head slipped through her inner lips. She held me there and slowly withdrew me and repeated it again. She knew how she wanted me. She pressed her hands on my chest and sat up… and glided down my shaft in one movement. I gasped with her as her pubis met mine. She bore down, desperate for me to be even more within her. Slowly she began to rise on her knees… her pussy gripping my shaft as she slid up it, and then violently hard back down. Her head thrown back, she fucked me… hard and fast, and then slow, so incredibly slow. Then it came… “He’s watching”. I froze, like a rabbit in headlights. Slowly I turned my head. He was about ten yards away. Emma looked down at me, our eyes met. No words were required. I raised my hips off the sand and penetrated her deeply. This must have been a signal of acceptance for him because he came closer, pulling down the front of his swimming shorts to reveal his erect cock. He was just a couple of paces away. Both Emma and I were transfixed. “FUCK ME” she demanded whilst simultaneously beckoning him with a reached out hand. We had found our rhythm as she met each thrust I gave, her heavy breasts rising and falling. He approached, wanking his cock strongly. Her reached out hand found it. Her fingers encircled his thick shaft and held him. She looked down deeply into my eyes. It felt almost like our souls were as one. No jealousy. Just pure unadulterated erotic lust. We were as one… anything else was just enhancement, purely intensifying our arousal more. We were taking each other… with someone along for the ride. It was clear he was close. I could see his balls start to contract. Her hand on his cock was doing its work as we violently fucked. I felt his foot touch my arm. He was imminent and wanted to share. A low animal groan came from him as he announced his arrival. The first white rope of cum hit Emma’s heaving breasts, its whiteness stark against her deep tan. The second jet came my way, spraying down over me. Thick globules of hot cum rained over my chest.. I looked up at her. All I could see was ecstasy. She was massaging her breasts with both hands, coating herself with this other man’s gift. I cannot put into words the effect this had on me. Our fucking intensified. Deep and hard. I could feel myself so very close. Her fingers appeared at my lips. I couldn’t last any longer. She forced her cum covered fingers into my mouth, feeding him to me. That was the trigger. She knew it. My whole being shuddered as  my cock swelled and the overwhelming pulsation began. Emma forced her entire weight down on me, her body pleading for all I could possibly deliver. I could feel her breasts touch my chest. The heat of her. The mixture of our endeavours intoxicating. Her body pressed on mine. Both our bodies heaving. Her breath on my neck as her slick body glided up me and I felt the weight of her head on my shoulder. I slowly opened my eyes. The stranger had vanished. Was he ever there? Only his taste on my lips told the true story.

The Submissive.

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Image by Kate Mac (@my_sexual_discovery_2)

Over the past few months on my Instagram account, @ego_exploratio, I have found myself engaging increasingly with protagonists of BDSM as their chosen sexual preference. My personal experience of this vast spectrum of activity has been largely restricted to mild bondage play in the bedroom. Readers who have followed my blog from the beginning will know that I struggle with labels and sexuality… Well for me, this is a classic situation where a label has been applied whilst simultaneously being essentially meaningless. A bit like replying “North America” to someone asking where you are from. The term BDSM in my eyes is generic to the point of being rather ridiculous.

Quite unwittingly, I had participated in activities which would be attributed to this loose term, having been “used” by partners, both male and female, as a “toy” to be used for their satisfaction. I decided I wanted to explore much further into the various sub genres of BDSM because, clearly, I had a lot to learn.

One particular activity which I have encountered frequently is that of women assuming a submissive role and being “owned”, most commonly by a male (but not exclusively) and who is often referred to as “daddy”.

Ownership is a tricky one for me… it is counterintuitive to my whole ethos of how relationships are, but in the parlance of the bondage/discipline/dominance area of the BDSM world it is a common term which is used during play to symbolise the submissive/dominant roles. The “daddy” term really grated on me, that is until I sought advice from a close psychologist friend who set me straight. The use of “daddy” is to symbolise the father figure, as in looking after, caring for, teacher, confidant, protector and one who can be relied upon. Although there is usually a sexual component in the relationship, it does not promote incest or paedophilia in any way. Outside of the play setting, this can easily be misinterpreted if not represented within it’s true context.

So ‘is BDSM a turn on for me?’ Well there are aspects which I find intensely arousing but equally there are others which leave me cold, particularly where there is implied cruelty and disrespect.

Personally I adore the concept of femme dom but in a more nuanced role… as in the woman to be in control whether they are being submissive OR dominant. I am serving their need. I love the power dimension of the submissive role.

Whilst exploring this whole new world, I met a woman who, like me, is a born explorer and sees herself on a voyage of discovery when it comes to her sexuality. We shared many thoughts and fantasies and during one of our conversations I asked her if she would write a short piece for me to include in my blog. She has a deep fascination with the submissive role which extends to her attending Kinbaku classes and which she employs in her photographic work. I am so very grateful that she agreed and below is the fantasy piece that she wrote.

 

“Welcome Home”

You just arrive home. You set your briefcase down. Remove and hang your coat. Slip off your shoes. Then you turn to me. Deep and seriously you say to me “get your fucking clothes off.” I don’t move. I’m feeling defiant. You grab me and push me up against a wall, pressing your body into mine. You slide your hand to my throat and squeeze it closed. Forcing my legs apart with your knee. In a low growl in my ear you say to me “I said, get your fucking clothes off now. If I have to say it again I will hurt you.” You kiss me hard and deep. Then you remove your hand from my throat and step back. I’m shaking and getting wet with eager anticipation. I start undressing. You say to me “Good girl. That’s much better.” I pull my dress down. Undo my bra. Slide my wet panties down. You are standing there. Your shirt removed. You are wearing dark grey dress pants that are now unbelted and unzipped. You remembered how much I love that. I see you preparing your rope. Before we get started, you walk up to me, push my wet panties into my mouth and demand that I lick them. Then you shove them the rest of the way into my mouth, effectively gagging me. You force me to turn around and you bind my arms crossed behind my back. You get to work securing my arms and binding my breasts. I am completely bound and helpless. You remove my panties from my mouth telling me “There are no safe words today little girl. You are mine and I am going to do with you as I please.” You kiss me deeply again and then put a ball gag in my mouth. “I want to watch you drool all over yourself like a good little slut. My little slut. You belong to me.” You bend me over our kitchen table. My pussy is swollen and soaked and completely exposed. “Spread your legs… Spread. Your. Fucking. Legs”, as you kick my feet out. You secure my ankles tightly to the legs of the table. You push my face down onto the surface of the wood as you start to caress and feel me. All of me. I’m so warm and wet and eager. Then you take your fingers and wipe them across my face. “Smell yourself you whore.” You pull down your pants. You then slip the tip of your cock into me. Then pull it out and rub my clit with it. “Do not dare cum until I give you permission. If you disobey me, you will be severely punished.” You thrust deep and hard into me. Forcefully, violently, with the intention of hurting me. You grab me by my hair and give good hard, deep thrusts. You pull out, “That’s all you get for now.” You start slapping me over my ass. You don’t stop until tears are sliding down my cheeks. Smeared mascara. Ass red and bruising. You have marked me. I won’t soon forget. You start fucking me once more, taking what you want and how you want it. I am screaming but cannot manage any words. You wouldn’t give a damn even if I could. When you’ve had enough of my cunt, you pull out and slide into my ass. So tight. I’m gripping your hard cock. The unexpected shock I feel is causing me to grip you even harder. “Relax your asshole. It’s mine and I’m going to fuck it.” You fuck me hard. Unforgiving. You cum inside of me. Then you start massaging my clit. Fast and hard. “Now that I’m completely satisfied, you may cum. And you will cum. You will do as you are told.” I cum hard. Soaking your hand. You rub it off on my face again. Your cum is starting to drip out of me. Mixing with my own. You go to shower and clean up, leaving me where I am. Only once you are finished do you unbind me and allow me to clean up. You kiss me hard. Deeply. Passionately. I shower and clean up. We spend the rest of the night cuddling and watching T.V. Just like any normal couple. But we are so so much more.

By Kate Mac (@my_sexual_discovery_2) 

This scenario is incredibly widespread in erotic writing and imagery… it takes on an almost cliche status such is the frequency of it appearing in women’s fantasies. It is clearly a highly erotic story and forms a backdrop for so many of Kate’s fantasies. 

I struggle with aspects of it. I could never threaten hurt. The phrase she uses “Forcefully, violently, with the intention of hurting me” leaves me cold.

 I know there is an implied consent to the scenario of course… and it is clearly highly erotic and may be a common female fantasy, but it isn’t a fantasy of mine to ‘take’ a woman violently with any intention to hurt.

Overall, I find the story deeply arousing and provocative, asking me profound questions about my innermost desires and fantasies. That has to be what erotic writing is about, not simply to sexually arouse, but to make the reader re-assess their personal status quo…. Kate manages this perfectly I think. I cannot thank her enough for having written it for me.