There’s that closeness from having him in my mouth. First of course, the shuffling down, wherever we are, either on chair as I snuggle up in his lap, or shuffle down to my knees to be between his legs... or in bed as I curl up first in the nook of his arm, my leg across his body and then I can’t help but wriggle down beneath the covers to seek him out.
In the spirit of the June prompt for Sinful Sunday, Black and White, I have included both colour and black and white photography. As I was trying on some new lingerie for a review this week, my man and I were playing. I was teasing with my lace underwear, and I realised the light shining through made some very pretty patterns. I snapped this shot so I could share my saucy, sinful shadow!
He moved on his side to face me, both of us on top of the bed. His nose almost touching mine. There’s no argument which could ever be brooked with those dark eyes, brooding doesn’t even come close. Determined? Of course. Expectant. Dominant. In control. To be obeyed without question or hesitation. To stare into them means to know this is what you really want, to know your own mind and be strong enough to go where it and he leads. I'm proud enough to face those eyes openly and without hiding or running. They were out of focus range, suddenly… and his mouth was on mine, tasting and invading. The first penetration.
By Cara Sutra: Why am I talking about a 60 day vibe chastity challenge? After reviewing the Palm Power Wand earlier today, an interesting point came up in convo on Twitter. A fellow blogger's personal route back to a manual orgasm only came after a set time away from vibrating sex toys. I must confess that I do find it difficult to orgasm without the help of vibrations against my clitoris these days, if not impossible.
I have been musing recently on how some women are like cats, and some like kittens. The kitten play fetish is quite popular with those identifying as women, and puppy play more usually seen in those identifying as men or boys. There's a whole world of furry fetish fun out there in BDSM!
The night was spent shifting in steamy, torrid dreams of debauchery and sex. As I lay and ponder on nothing much at all, I realise the sensations of my body. My clit feels like its been expertly strummed for hours, aching, throbbing and pulsing so hard. In reality it hasn't been touched at all. Yet. Remnants of dreams filter through my consciousness, bodies entwined, the feeling of dreamed orgasms, the taste of my lover on my lips and the feel of them pervading and invading me all at once.
The question I've been musing on over the past couple of months has two distinct elements. Am I addicted to sex toys – and is this having a detrimental effect on my sex life?
I love when we have those tender private times together, those reassuring moments of intimacy. It’s so good to feel like his special girl and I know (well, hope) that he loves feeling like my special man. Our relationship is far from what you’d call standard, normal or boring, and very often it can involve other people. Not that we’re swingers – not that there’s anything wrong with swinging but it’s not us. I may have girl lovers though and he may have boy lovers; we’re both very bi.
...if he ties me up, spanks me and uses ‘dirty talk’ before fucking me. Telling me what he’s going to do to his filthy little girl, that I’m all just for Daddy and that there’s nothing I can do to stop him, he’s going to fuck me anyway, nothing I can do about it. No choice. Tied up and no way out, no escape. Just a little fucktoy, a ragdoll for him to use and abuse at will. That sort of thing.
All such a blur now, afterwards, as always, the echoes of memories remain though, of hot breaths close to my ear, the spine tingles as he tiptoe walks his long nails over my flesh, flesh bound tightly with beautifully worked bondage rope, rope so red to contrast my pale skin. The knots that hold the frame together marking me like bullet points I can feel right to my centre.
I'm a very feminine woman. In the lesbian world, there are terms to describe the different types of lesbians. Of course not all women will fit these categories exactly, it is impossible to pigeon hole absolutely everyone with a few labels. However, I do identify with these types both from personal experience with women and how I feel in myself.
I feel the heat of your spirit, your heart, your passion, even as you walk past me. It calls to me on the very air itself. There is a spark in the unspoken connection between us, something that we know has been, that isn’t now, but that yet will be. Your scent lingers as deep as a kiss and evocative, like fire pulsing through my veins. Every touch from you is like an addictive syrup of love, a nectar that you dose out, the required medication for my madness.