Category Archives: Life
Jesus I want this. Fucking hot.
Question.. is this a female dominated fantasy? Because I have never had a man try this with me…
*You might have to click on it to get the gif to work.*
staying in between the lines..
I had a bit of a revelation. I can’t say that I didn’t already know it, or that it is a big deal. My thoughts have just been swept away by it. Before I got married, I was always able to satisfy my curiosity. If I met a man, found him interesting, attractive, I wanted to know.. Know how he’d feel against me, how he’d feel in me, how his mouth would kiss mine. Where his hands would stray, what conversations we may have. Overall just general curiosity, a yearning for knowledge of people.
I’ve been thinking, just because I satisfied that with one man, making a decision to keep learning him for an undetermined amount of time, the need for knowledge of others did not go away. I’ve found myself slipping slightly back into my previous character, doing things or wanting to do things that I haven’t done in years. Touching for no reason, itching to shock people with inappropriate statements, really just take my flirtatious self to the next level.
I know that the need to satisfy is always there. Even if it lay almost dormant for years, I doubt it’s something that will go away. It’s a part of the person that I am. I can’t feel wrong about that.
Every late Saturday night or early Sunday morning, it’s a ritual for me to check Postsecret. Last night, this one was a few down, and I was struck with thoughts. How many people have been through something similar to this?
I know that while the things I may want possibly seem tame, my very vanilla husband, can’t quite grasp any understanding of them. It’s been over a year and a half since I first mentioned that I was interested by “open” relationships. I had always joked about interest in women, but I also brought that to the forefront. After the huge fight we had, where I thought I honestly might leave, we kinda just dropped it. But it has consistently hung over us like some dirty fog. Anytime anything even remotely related to people going outside of their relationships is mentioned, he gets almost furious. The interest in women bothers him less, but I feel it definitely still grates a little.
I wonder how long this will stay with us. The fact that I was open and honest, and he shut me down. Pretty much acting as if there was something wrong with me. I wonder about the secret writer, does it still hang over him or did she actually believe he was joking?
I know other people who have dealt with similar things, and I think it leads to resentment on the part of the honest party. When you love someone, and that person can’t love you for who you are… It’s sad.
The most common sexual conversation the Hubs and I have been having for around six months is the debate of anal sex. I’ve always felt myself an open and adventurous person but this has consistently been a ‘no’ coming out of my mouth. A little backstory..
When I was eighteen, bright eyed and curious, I had a ‘friends with benefits’ situation with a twenty-three year old. He had obviously done a lot more than I had, and was very open with his past to me. I knew that a previous girlfriend and he had done anal frequently. I was interested, intrigued. Finally one night I decided to give it a try. A little liquor in me, (but in no way intoxicated) I felt ready.
Here’s the thing, I barely remember the lead up, or even much about it. Other than the fact that it was extremely painful. I ponder now if there wasn’t enough lube, if I just wasn’t ready, if he wasn’t the right one to try it with. I do remember that he was very gentle and understanding, once the tears sprang from my eyes he withdrew. Never did we try again.
This was seven years ago, and I can’t get over it. I can’t push away the memory of how horrid it was. Even though I really want to try it, my paranoia is overtaking my desire. I’ve told the Hubs that when I am ready, I will definitely let him know. He is a somewhat of a flip-flopper on this subject. While we fuck he begs me to stick it in my ass, then later will say he was just fucking around. He’s used his fingers some, normally I am okay, sometimes I have to tell him to stop. I have even told him that his cock is so big it intimidates me. Yet, I love for him to just touch it, for him to fuck me doggie style his body hitting into it hard, or pushing my ass cheeks apart.
This is definitely the one thing I am trying to open my mind to. Even buying some expensive new lube recently, hoping to let him know, it won’t be long now…
I always had what I would describe as a “thing” for being dominant. But I could never fully put myself into it. I would occasionally smack my hubs with the crop but it was normally a laughing matter. Not really to be taken seriously. I eventually decided my horse crop and flogger needed to touch flesh, for real. I’ve written about this before, how my hubs eventually got into doing these things. But I just now realized, it was for me. Yes, I asked him to act a certain way, to hit me with objects, but I didn’t command him to do it.
I ran across a blog post, http://delvingintodeviance.wordpress.com/2011/06/03/the-devaluation-of-male-submission/. Something that was said struck me:
I love pain. It makes me come. I instruct him in exactly what kind of pain I like and how to administer it, just as I tell him exactly how I want him to lick my cunt or finger me. I tell my submissive to do something that makes me come, and he does it. Exterior trappings or individual acts are not what make dominance and submission. It is the connection, the control; one person leading another on a journey of trust and intimacy. I am the one who leads.
Since “I am the one who leads” in those situations in my life, does that make me the dominant? Even though he is “acting” as one?
I haven’t written about one of the last times we pulled a prop out. It was my flogger, and I am pretty sure he was the one who said to get it. But once it was out, I instructed him what to do.
He was to hit and tease me with it, while I played with myself. I also wanted him to tell me to do things and if I said ‘no’, to hit me with the flogger. This worked incredible, my skin pink, from excitement and the lingering of leather to flesh. I came incredibly hard as the flogger continuously fondled and stung me.
After, he shoved his cock into my face and said “Suck my dick.”
Wanting to follow through on our plan, I looked him straight in the face, “No.”
Then he broke! He sheepishly nodded and said, “Okay.”
I got irritated- “What the fuck? You are supposed to tell me I have to. And hit me if I balk.”
He slipped back into dominant mode and did as I had instructed him. This was incredible, albeit slightly unreal because I knew he was really having to think about what was happening, not just doing.
So here’s my source of pondering, am I the dominant one? The line is too blurry for me to see clearly.
As a recent, yet avid, listener of Dan Savage’s podcast “Savage Love”, I heard him mention a book several times. I picked it up from Amazon after reading a Kindle sample.
After reading it, I felt I had to mention it, as some of my like-minded bloggers might want to check it out. I learned so many things that I knew nothing about, and really made me expand my mind on the things I thought I knew. I have already discussed the book with some of my close friends/husband. It definitely gets things perked up in a conversation.
I’ve discovered recently that since I write about my fantasies, I get a little out of control while masturbating. It’s like the scene is being written out in my head as I fondle myself. Sometimes I lose a little pleasure because my mind is working over drive on how I want the fantasy to be.
Is he on top of me and I’m grabbing his hair? Or is it the opposite?
Is he fucking her, oblivious to me watching? Or is he watching me, me not noticing him?
Where are we at? In the car? At a house?
See how this gets confusing for me? Scenes shifting rapidly, so it ends up being totally disjointed. It’s okay to let yourself run wild, that’s what fantasies are for. I just need to learn how to not analyze so much. I may just be a freak. Anyone else have this issue?
Image via : Fuck the Sex
*This might end up being the most explicit post I’ve written on here, you are forewarned.*
I was double penetrated last night. No, no, not the DP most would think of. I was DP’ed in the pussy. I’m not exactly sure how I heard of this, but somehow I did. From that my obsession grew. I’ve watched porn where a woman takes two men into her pussy, and how I longed to experience it. I had casually mentioned it to the hubs, (however casual that can be brought up ) and he had almost brushed it off. Pretty much in the vein that it would never happen, so I might as well forget it.
So.. Yesterday morning, I had said to him, “I want DP. Dr. Pepper and double penetration.” Dissolving into laughter at his expression. Somehow this was brought up again last night, and I decided to educate him by showing him some porn. The only I could find was MFM, but figured, what the hey, let’s just get him used to that idea. This was only a five and a half minute video, and around four minutes in, he was gung ho.
“Go get your dildo.” He practically commanded me.
Once dildo was obtained, sufficiently lubed, and me on my knees, we figured out the logistics of the situation. I won’t lie, being filled beyond belief by a cock of exceptional girth, plus a normal (but on the small side girth wise) dildo, was slightly painful at first. It was an odd mixture, pain + pleasure. Confused I almost asked him to stop, but I decided to be patient.
Thank goodness I did. It was fucking incredible. Orifices of me barely explored were tingling with sensation. While I’m sure it was definitely different than two actual cocks, at least I got a little taste of the possibility. I am now wondering, when can I get it again? And where might this lead? Hopefully somewhere orgasmic..
Friday night we had family over, then Saturday all went to the lake together. I decided to wear a bikini, and ended up feeling overly sexy. The cut of my top showing my cleavage perfectly, my bottoms cupping my ass low, my little back dimples on display. The hubs obviously picked up on the flirtatious look on my face, breasts taunting him as we left the beach and family behind. Laughing at the burning hot sand under my feet, we were both breathless as we hopped into the car. Windows rolled down, music turned up, he reached out and pulled my breasts out of my top. Pinching my nipples, caressing my breasts as he drove. Ever the gentleman, he asked if I wanted to stop somewhere. Even around the hubs I have a tendency to be coy, murmuring ‘Sure’. Amped up, my bikini bottoms feeling slightly damp, I held my composure till he motioned to where we’d stop. Right under a railroad viaduct, the highway visible. He turned the car off right at the edge of the opening, so we’d be blocked from the sun, but not completely closed in. We both got out and he came around to the passenger’s side, pushing me against the side of the car, kissing me full on the mouth. I pushed my bottoms down, he turned me around, leaning into the car. His hands latched onto my hips as he drove into me. I met the rhythm, pushing back and forth with him. My cheek rubbing the hot metal of my hood, the sounds of my mouth echoing in the concrete enclosure. He unhooked the back of my top, my nipples slightly burning on the heat. Then told me to get on my back. I hopped up, him grabbing my thighs and pulling me to the very edge of the car. My head tossed in both directions, watching the cars speed past on the highway, the other direction nothing but dirt road. My ankles on his shoulders, legs straight up. I moaned until he lost control, taking every ounce of me he could. Fingers digging into my legs, a ragged sigh escaped. We both took a while to recover, back in the car, a/c cooling our bodies, our whole beings euphoric.