Archive for the ‘Sexy Times’ Category

Mister S and I were texting the other night as he is currently out of town on business. We weren’t discussing anything serious, just talking about my reminder marks and how we missed each other. Then he asked me if he could play with himself.

“May I play with myself Ms?”

“What’s the rule?” was my response, to which he requested I FaceTime with him. The rule is that he can play if he sends me a picture. Watching in real time was absolutely acceptable, and in some ways preferable. I love to watch and he loves to be watched so it’s a win-win.

I called so we could FaceTime. He quickly walked me through a hallway and into what I am assuming is his room during his stay. Then my view flipped from his handsome face to his cock. I watched as he lay on the bed pulling and tugging and showing his cock off to me. He asked if he could cum and I said no, not yet. We hadn’t done anything like this previously and I wanted to enjoy it.

My “not yet” was ignored, or unable to be followed, and before I knew it he was cumming. I made some comments about how I hated to see his delicious cum go to waste and wished I could clean it all up for him. My view soon changed from his cum covered cock back to his handsome face, for maybe a whole two seconds or so before he thought he heard footsteps approaching and said a quick goodnight.

The entire call was about two minutes from beginning to end and I was left hanging. Which was fine really because I hadn’t brought up my desire to play as well, so he was completely unaware. I can’t fault a guy for not knowing something that I didn’t tell him. I don’t expect him to be a mind reader.

The thing is though, I was pretty much irrelevant to the whole thing. At least that’s how I felt. If he had said he was going to jack off and asked if I wanted to watch I would not have any issue. Him being excited just by me watching would have been fine. I will gladly watch him stroke his cock any day of the week.

My issue is that he asked me if he could play. Then he asked me if he could cum, and yet he came anyway when I told him no. He set my expectation by asking and thereby assuming the submissive role, which put me in the dominant role. And if he wants to be the submissive partner then he needs to listen and abide by what I say. How would he react if he told me to do something while we were playing and I didn’t obey? How would you react to your partner?

I can see your question already. Yes, we switch. Although our main roles are him the Dominant and I the submissive, we do enjoy switching and will do so with each other.

Obviously this was my experience. Mister S may have a completely different view on it, one I will share if he so chooses.



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Workplace Fun

I was going to start this post by saying that although I have dreamt and fantasized about a co-worker I’ve never actually brought it to life. Then I realized that would be a lie. Maybe it was the prompt itself, office affairs, that made me forget about it. We didn’t work in an office after all. Not back then. Not like I have been for the past twenty years. There was this one time a few years back when I almost got busy with someone in my office, but that didn’t pan out and he wasn’t a co-worker. He was someone from my past that I should have let stay in the past.

It was one of my first real jobs in high school. I got a part-time job at the local Denny’s as a hostess and cleaning staff. It was great fun actually. I used to work the night shift on Friday’s and Saturday’s. Being a 24/7 restaurant we always had a big after the bar crowd. It’s funny being completely sober and listening to drunkards trying to have intelligent and philosophical conversations. What is it about consuming alcohol that makes us become all knowing? My Dad was that way. A handful of drinks and he wanted to discuss the meaning of life.

The senior employee who was assigned to me, I can’t even recall his name, was to die for. Young, handsome, and very flirtatious. We started from the very first shift. Quick whit and innuendo, never out rightly saying what we wanted to do. Good girls don’t say those things, and boys didn’t ask. One must beat around the bush about such things apparently, reading between the lines.

I’d been there about a month or so when we were working together on a Sunday evening. I was covering a shift for someone else as I didn’t normally work on Sunday’s. The place was quiet and rather empty. The back area was closed and we would all use it to go sit during our breaks. I was sitting at one of the big corner booths when he (why can’t I remember his name?) came back and sat with me. I became nervous and fidgety. I knew we would cross the line at some point, I just hadn’t thought it would be that night.

He leaned in and kissed the back of my neck. I swear, I would have melted into a puddle right then if it had been possible. When I turned my head to look at him he reached his hand out to caress my cheek then came in for a real kiss. It was gentle at first but quickly became more urgent. His hands moved to my breasts, unbuttoning my blouse and sliding in under my bra. It was electric, his rough hand on my delicate skin squeezing and pinching. I couldn’t help but let out a moan of pleasure. I felt his smile form against my lips.

Opening my eyes I was staring straight into his clear blue eyes. I saw his questions in them. Was I ok? Did I want to go further? Did I want him to stop? I answered by closing my eyes and kissing him deeply. He in turn pushed me back against the seat, reciprocating the kiss and moving his hand from my breast to between my legs.

To say it felt good would be a major understatement. I had fooled around before, had a few boyfriends, but I was still a virgin and had only been penetrated by fingers other than my own a few times previously. This was the first since moving to Ontario about six months earlier. I was too busy missing home and trying to talk my parents into moving back there to make new friends or even consider a boyfriend. The co-worker was a perfect distraction.

As good as his fingers felt I wanted something else and knew he would be up for it as well. Moving his hand from between my legs it was my turn. I pushed him back, undid his belt and unzipped his pants. As my hand wrapped around his cock I heard an unmistakable moan of pleasure and felt him relax into the seat. A few strokes later my hand was replaced by my mouth.

It was a very enjoyable break until we were interrupted by another employee with a rude “ahem”. He was not very impressed with us. Too bad. He could have joined in the fun.


*Note: “Office affairs” was last week’s Wicked Wednesday prompt. I didn’t get this posted then but wanted to link back to it so you could check out what others had to say about their office affairs.

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Last Wednesday I missed posting to the blog. As a result I decided two posts today, with one of them being your choice, would make up for it. I’ve been posting two posts a day all week with The Devil’s Deal, but that doesn’t make up for anything. It is #DragonWeek afterall.

I had a few suggestions and the consensus was that people enjoy seeing me with a cock in my mouth. Wouldn’t want to disappoint. 😉






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Have you ever had an experience you were too naïve to understand or appreciate? So erotic, but you were too insecure to just let it be and embrace it? I relive the following experience in my head over and over again. It’s been 25 years, yet when I close my eyes I am transported back to that little bedroom with that amazing young man I was completely mad about yet unable to love the way he wanted and deserved. I’ve had this written for a while but couldn’t quite get the style of it the way I wanted. I didn’t want a poem or a long story so I was left with breaking the rules.

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Standing in the middle of a dark room,

nearly pitch black

and I can’t see a thing.

But I can feel him,

his breath against my neck,

his hands gently caressing me.

I tingle all over.

My breath grows shallow.

No words.

He stands in front of me.

Close enough for me to reach out and touch,

but I don’t dare.

The buttons on my blouse

slowly, ever so slowly,

come undone.

His hand glides across my shoulder

pushing my blouse off.

Next, the other shoulder

then he pulls the sleeves

one at a time

and lets it fall to the floor.

Gentle kisses on my neck,

my collarbone,

as his hands now move lower.

The pop of another button

precedes the sound of a zipper,

my zipper,

slowly going down.

Achingly slow.

I hear every catch of the zipper as he goes.

Two hands now move across my hips

down the back of my jeans

pushing them down,

past my behind,

down to my knees.

Lift, he says.

One foot,

then the next,

as my jeans join my blouse

on the floor.

His arms are around me now

tugging at the clasp

of my bra.

Easily unhooked

it is swept from my shoulders

and drops to the floor.

The pile of shed clothing grows.

He cups each breast,


and kisses them tenderly.

My nipples ache for more

but I dare not ask.

I am a good girl,

I don’t do such things.

He kneels in front of me

and slips his hands

under the waistband of my panties.

His hands slide down my thighs

bringing the soft fabric with them.

Lift, he says again.

One foot,

then the other,

and I am naked.

He leans in now,

buries his head

between my legs.

I tremble


yet completely turned on.

Soft moans escape

as his tongue makes contact.

Oh my!

Off his knees now,

he kisses me

before taking my hand

and walking me over to the bed.

He pulls the sheets back

and sits me down.

I hear the sounds of his clothes

now being removed

and left in their own

crumpled pile on the floor.



he takes me.




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I did it. Finally. After more than a week without Him, even longer of him not having me do it, I masturbated. Late the other night, or rather very early the next morning, I pulled out a couple clips and a vibrator and gave myself an orgasm. And even though I am hard pressed to remember the last time I did that, it still took a while.

I wasn’t horny or already wet and excited. I wasn’t led by His words. I wasn’t even feeling like I wanted to. What I was feeling was a need to, an overwhelming need to let go. It wasn’t about pleasure or exploration, it was about releasing the tension and angst I’d been carrying. It was also, quite possibly, about turning off my brain and getting some sleep.

Sure I’ve had orgasms, great orgasms, recently but having them given to you by a very capable man is far different from getting yourself off, especially when you aren’t even in the mood. So why masturbate when you aren’t in the mood? Well, why would you go to work when you don’t feel like it? Same thing. Sometimes it’s something you have to do. Sometimes it’s just a means to an end. So, after laying in bed for hours, my mind wandering and wondering about things, I decided that an orgasm was in order. I wasn’t thinking about how good it would feel, how turned on I would be when my wetness began to coat my bits. I was thinking that it would release the tension that was built up and relax me enough to get more than an hour or two of sleep.

I first put my hand between my legs, pushing, testing. Nothing. I took a couple clips and my big blue vibrator out of the bedside table. At first I just tried the vibrator, leaving the clips to the side. That didn’t work either. The vibrations on my clit weren’t exciting or pleasurable, because I wasn’t really in the mood. I then took the clips to my nipples. I hadn’t tried that at first because I wasn’t in the mood to play to have a truly enjoyable experience. I just wanted to get it done and over with. Once I attached the clips though, my cunt almost instantly responded with a trickle of wetness. I should have known better and went for the clips right off the bat. I was being resistant though, I was fighting it.

Once the wetness came I thought I was home free and the orgasm would quickly come. How wrong I can be at times. It was still stubborn and elusive. I wasn’t going to give up though. That would have just made me feel worse and I didn’t feel like crying myself to sleep again. I left the clips on and kept the vibrator working on my clit, gently moving it around and around trying to make it give in and give me an orgasm. I pushed it down to my opening, getting it slick and glistening before moving it back to my clit. I used my other hand to spread my lips, leaving my little nub open and vulnerable. The vibrator, now well lubricated, moved again over my clit. Slowly I began to feel the familiar tingling and as I thought about it it began to wane, to pull back and shy away once again.

Damn it! I needed this. Maybe too much and that was the problem. I was still thinking too much, feeling too much. I had to stop and just let it happen. I closed my eyes and thought about His hands on me, His fingers splaying me and His tongue teasing my clit. Finally my body reacted like I knew it could. My clit ignited, my body bucked and trembled, and my cunt did a few back flips as the dam burst.

It felt… good, fine. Honestly, it wasn’t the stars the moon and fireworks. It was more relief and satisfaction, which was exactly what I was going for. I didn’t even take time to savour it, to let myself enjoy those wonderful contractions and sensations that always linger at the surface. Once the orgasm was reached and my body made its last big twitch I threw the vibrator aside, rolled over, and went to sleep. I slept all night. ALL NIGHT. Waking up the next morning rested and realizing that I had slept through the night, that was the big finish.


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I couldn’t very well let the 100th Wicked Wednesday go by without a word now could I? I hadn’t intended on posting this piece for Wicked Wednesday but being the prompt is “full circle” I thought my orgasm, or the big O as some call it, story was a good fit. Congratulations to Marie on reaching this milestone on the wonderful Wicked Wednesday meme. This marks my 76th entry to Wicked Wednesday. 76 out of 100. Not too shabby. I look forward to the next 100 prompts.


Wicked Wednesday


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Orgasms are good things. We can all agree on that, right? No? They aren’t good things? You must mean they are great things. They really are mighty fabulous. What? You think they are bad things? How is that remotely possible?

There are times when an orgasm isn’t a good one, at least not for some people.

Sometimes my orgasm taunts me… Here I am Stella. Right here, come and get me. Let’s play hide and seek! Oh, not quite right there, over here. Ooh, that’s good. Oops, you moved the minutest of fractions and now I’ve moved to the other side of the world… It happens. Don’t tell me this has never happened to you. You are right there, on the brink, and it disappears. Damn you orgasm. DAMN YOU!

Bad orgasm for not cumming (pun totally intended).

The guy you are with just doesn’t know what he is doing. He thinks he’s the best thing since sliced bread when it comes to pleasing a woman. He’s pleased plenty, or so he keeps telling you. You are inclined to believe his previous partners have done the Harry met Sally thing and faked the screaming orgasm part. He can’t even find your clitoris for crissakes! Do you do the same thing as those other women or do you admit it just isn’t working for you? I’m inclined to admit it isn’t working. I’ve been called a bitch, told I had issues that I couldn’t orgasm, had someone try even harder in their not so pleasing way. It doesn’t matter how hard you go at it if there’s no finesse, no skill, no clue as to what one is doing.

Bad orgasm for not even showing up to play the little hide and seek game.

You are home alone, he is away somewhere or just not able to be with you right now. You’ve been reading some sexy blogs, seeing some quite lovely pictures. You are hot and horny, dripping before you even touch yourself. You are so worked up beforehand that it takes the slightest of movements to give you your orgasm. You’ve totally worked yourself up and it’s over in what seems like mere seconds. You are done, so now what?

Bad orgasm for cumming too soon (yes, I know I’m punny).

You’ve been playing for a while and he decides to deny you your orgasm. He keeps bringing you to the brink then pulling you back, letting the feeling subside a bit, then bringing you to the brink again. You feel like you are going to explode. You can’t handle much more of his teasing you before you have a complete breakdown. He starts again. Every inch of you is excited and sensitive. Just as he is about to let you release he stops and denies you again, one too many times. You’ve had it. Your sensitive bit retreats and refuses to come back out. Now you are resenting him for teasing you to that point and continuing to deny your orgasm rather than enjoying the immense pleasure that can come once the denial phase ends.

Bad orgasm for being denied release.

Let’s stay with orgasm denial for a moment. Sometimes he tries to deny you but you orgasm anyway. You succumb to it. You ignore him telling you that you aren’t allowed, or you hear him but you can’t stop the orgasm train from cumming (seriously, how many times can I write this in one post!). Now he is displeased because you did not obey him. You will have to deal with the consequences of your actions.

Bad orgasm because it comes with consequences, punishment possibly,  for not obeying him.

He bought you a new Hitachi wand for your birthday. You’d heard stories about how fab they feel and had been eying one for a while. To break it in, and to celebrate your birthday, forced orgasm is on the agenda. You are restrained and the wand is secured against your clit. It is slow at first then gradually builds bringing your first orgasm with it. In the middle of your bits thanking you for the orgasm another one is already building. Again, a crashing orgasm. You want to squirm and buck but you can’t, he has you securely restrained with minimal allowance for movement. You try to fight the next one as it comes crashing down on you, then another and another, they continue rolling over you… You lose count as you ride this massive wave. You scream and whimper and cry. You beg for it to stop. You will surely die if you are forced to continue.

Bad orgasms because they are all by machine, without his touch. Yet, he is involved and watching, so majorly fantastic orgasms as well.

What would you consider a bad orgasm? One you don’t have sure, but what about one you do have, or have had?

Wicked Wednesday

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It’s midnight here and I am sitting up, tired but unable to sleep. Laying down is not conducive to breathing at the moment, and breathing is quite important if I don’t want to die. Yeah, I don’t want to die.

What I do want though is to play. Not fun little board games or cars and choo choo trains, but naked games. I want to be pushed, to be taken and used, to taste a cock and be fucked into oblivion.

Reminds me of an episode of Friends. The one where Monica is sick with a cold and fever, all snotty and slathered in Vicks or some such thing. She is coughing and sneezing and dripping. Eww! Not that I ever found her character particularly appealing but exceptionally so in this episode. Thing was though, that even though she was sick and pretty disgusting at the time, she felt sexy, or horny as the case may be, and was trying her damnedest to turn Chandler on and have sex.

Not that I feel that disgusting, although I am sick and breathing is a real concern at the moment, but I just want to have sex. I don’t want it all soft and gentle like either. I want my hair pulled and my holes ravaged, I want you to tell me how much I turn you on and what a good girl I am.

I want to feel hot wax across my chest. I want to feel the leather bear down across my backside. The pain from the clamps. The binds around my ankles and wrists. Your hand against my throat. I don’t want too use a safe word or to to even think.

When it comes down to it what I want is to feel, to feel alive.

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