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.*
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.
“He sang of the first permission of flesh and flesh to entangle
how we abandon the guard of our heart and throw our borders
open and welcome a sweet invader to take possession
the sudden exquisite catch in a throat and the slow hush
of a breath unfettered the sweetest sounds to a lover’s ear
He sang of hands finding shyly at first their way
to another shelf of hips oh how the heart flares
and melts like wax spilling over a candle’s lip”
I can’t get Craig Arnold’s words out of my mind the last few weeks. Re-reading poems again and again..
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…
There you were on the other side of the door. Smiling widely at first sight. Your top shirt buttons undone, relaxed you walked in. The light was on, yet dim near the door. I was barefoot, boy shorts peeking from under my satin cami. You lightly grasped the hair framing my face, twirling your fingers through the strands. Leaning in, your lips brushed my cheek in shy greeting. Visibly arrested my skin pebbled at the moment of contact.
I ran my fingers along the collar of your shirt, then down to the first confined button. They deftly worked each button open, memorizing the feel of your body on my way down. Tugging your shirt out of your pants. The smooth leather of your belt sliding free of each notch. As I got your pants undone, your fingers trailed my neck down to the satin covering my breast, my nipple already hard as your finger found it over the tank. We stood for a moment just staring, your pants gone, shirt open.
You reached for the back of my neck, pulling me to you, lips finding. Mouths open, hot and scorching. You kissed me thirsty with need. Our bodies pressed together, you found the bottom curve of my ass, your thumb stroking, hand grabbing. I strained against you, the evidence of your desire apparent. My body shook, ready, wanting. You pulled my shorts off, and knelt to kiss my nipple over the tank. Leaving a wet mark, and my mouth sighing.
Unable to take any more, the rest of our clothes discarded. The city lights were twinkling outside the huge window. You turned me around to look out, standing behind me. Your body curved into mine, mouth close to my ear, “How many people do you suppose are watching?”
I couldn’t answer, my ass grinding against you, wanting you to know, I was ready. You moved in me with ease, hard and silky. My hand found balance, open flat pressed to the window pane. I could barely catch my breath as your hands gripped my hips, then my breasts. I reveled in the feel of your body, hot with lust, meeting mine with each thrust.
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.
*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.
The hubs has become more comfortable with his sexual dominance over me. A few nights ago, he instructed me to move to the end of the Zeppelin, legs slightly spread, face to the floor. He moved onto my legs, so that he was sitting on me, and pounded ruthlessly. My cheek rubbed into the rug, my elbows tried to hold myself in place, but it was a lost cause. He put one hand onto my shoulder blade, forcing me to keep position. The mix of the angle he was penetrating me, with the sheer intensity of his lust, caused me to scream out over and over. Only stopping to try and catch my breath a few times, I’m lucky my neighbors are apparently oblivious to my loudness. This was exactly what I have been craving, him losing himself, becoming a creature of need.
*This is the longest story I have, and it’s cut down quite a bit.*
Night was barely falling in the hot dry heat of my hometown. I was relieved that I had put on a sundress at the last moment before leaving my parent’s spare bedroom. The slight breeze tickled my cleavage and wafted into the open skirt of the navy blue dress, dotted with tiny flowers in shades of gray and blue. I was only visiting a week, and had run into an old friend, Tom, who immediately invited me to a barbeque at his house. I was a little unsure, considering it had been 8 years since I had last seen any of the people that would be there.
Familiar faces swirled about me, asking questions on my life, job, etc. Tom helping me remember everyone and trying to include me in the conversations. There was one man there, I did not recognize, and he appeared to be a friend of everyone. I stared, trying to place him, only barely concealed by the glass I held to my mouth. I took him in completely, jeans, sky blue button down shirt, cap, boots. I could see his sideburns were a light reddish color, a weeks worth of beard across his jaw and square chin. His smile was wide and infectious. I stepped out of the throng of people surrounded me, his eyes finally finding mine. The smile wavered a little, before he put it firmly back in place. He dislodged from his group some, coming closer to me. I set my glass on the railing of the deck, I felt him approach, prickles of apprehension racking my body. When I turned to face him, I still couldn’t figure out who he was. All I knew was the attraction pulsing within me, urging me to smile and tuck a strand of chestnut hair behind my ear.
“Could I get one of those?” He motioned to the cigarette in my hand.
“Sure.” Still smiling, composure waning, as I passed it to him, fingers brushing. The cigarette between his lips, one hand cupping the end. The flame lit and made his face more visible. I knew him somehow… I stood in a stupor as he took the first drag, then flicked the ash.
“How have you been Quinn?”
My forehead pinched as my eyes looked at him curiously.
“I’m sorry, I just can’t seem to place you. I feel as if I should, but my mind is a little weak at the moment.” I tipped my head to indicate the cold glass beside me.
“Wow, what a bitch you are still. It’s Matthew. Matt.” His smile was gone, instead two hard lines of lips pressed together.
“Seriously? Call me a bitch, when I never did a thing to you. You’ve only treated me with disgust since I met you.” My jaw had dropped at his admission. I couldn’t believe this man I had been lusting over all night, was Matt. Or Matthew now apparently. I felt fifteen again, cowering under his cruelty. I walked away, into the house and closed the bathroom door.