Category Archives: sex

Musings on shared experiences

“I hope you enjoy the sex as much as I do!”

“No?”

“Well, given what you’ve told me about how it makes you feel…”

He was very apologetic. He looked so genuinely sorry but at the same time so very happy that he could make me feel that way. I know he loves me. And I do enjoy our sex in a way that is both visceral and transcendent. It’s amazing. But.

I want to share that feeling with someone. Not only be taken there with someone, but share that with them. And if it hasn’t happened by now with him, it won’t. It makes me sad.

I suppose I should be happy. I know this won’t be a permanent relationship. That leaves a space for someone in my future with whom I can share this feeling with. Some day. I should be able to be more excited about that prospect. And still enjoy the magnificence that is my current sex life. And I have two magnificent partners. Both are amazing lovers. Head and shoulders above all the other lovers I have had over the years.

But the frightened, jaded parts of my mind are pointing out how long it took to find this feeling at all. And the astronomical odds against finding it ever again with someone else, let alone someone I can share that feeling with. Then I will have lost it forever.

Suggestion: let there be better sex for all!

It has been quite a while since I have written anything. I’d love to say that I’ve been too busy solving the economic crises of the world or curing cancer, but really I’ve just been somewhat unmotivated to blog. I have been busy doing other very boring life things. Work. Play. Laundry. That sort of thing. (Well, the play isn’t boring at all… but I figured I’d just throw that in there too.)

Plus, I haven’t found much that inspired me to want to write. Except…

Sex. Always a popular subject, right? I found a fantastic sex blog. No, not the kind that you wank to. A science blog. The kind you read if you want to actually figure out how to have better sex. And that’s a big YAY in my book! I don’t know about you, but I certainly would like to have even more awesome sex. And reading blogs has also been keeping me away from writing here. I have actually done quite a few things worth blogging about. I just haven’t gotten the motivation up to actually do it yet.

Also, I’d just like to have more sex with the Husband and the Wild Thing. And I’d especially like to have sex with both of them together. A woman can dream! (I think I’ve been reading too much yaoi lately.)

This is my life: miracle weekend

It’s late in my part of the world. The night is dark and cool. Nobody here but me. It was an intense weekend, and I’m both elated and a bit exhausted. I have missed 3 days of work, played, argued, made up, fucked, and cried. Not necessarily in that order. I feel I’ve been living in a different land for the past 5 days. Tomorrow I go back to the real world. There may be repercussions for missing work. I believe it was worth it. Even if I end up being fired, it will have been worth it. The Husband and I have reconnected. I feel wonderful!

Now I am looking forward to the future. I feel that things can work. For all of us. Times are changing. I am changing. Again. More hope for more kink and more love and more togetherness. It may not be perfect, but what is? Nothing. And this is good. This weekend has been a much needed catharsis. And now for some sleep!

This is my life: chiarascuro

We’re running around the house lighting candles so we can see. We’re a team. I know where the candles are and which ones will create the most light. He has the lighter. In the dark, we create enough light to see by. At least enough so we’re not bumping into the furniture. It’s enough. We don’t need the television or the internet to entertain ourselves. We have cuffs and rope and our own bodies. The way our bodies fit together is magic. It shouldn’t work, but somehow it does. It’s beautiful and transcendent like it almost always is. The thundering storm outside stopped at some point. When I come back to this world and my bed, I can’t hear it any more. The lights are still off. I leave him cuffed and tied to the bed and snuggle up between his cuffed arms. Then we think it best to eat the ice cream in the freezer before it’s just cream.

We have a whole weekend together. Somewhat of a rarity. I didn’t know it was going to work out this way, and have already made plans for Saturday evening. A few hours with the Wild Thing and some of his friends. He says it’s fine but behaves opposite. He’s sullen. Withdrawn. Pouting around me but coolly polite to the Wild Thing and his friends. He doesn’t want to be here. He could have stayed home but didn’t. He doesn’t want me to be here. I appreciate spending time with him. Sorta. I would appreciate it more if he weren’t so sullen. The sullenness continues all weekend. The bed is occupied with bodies. Bodies that should fit together like magic. But they aren’t. He doesn’t want to hold me. I don’t want to hold him. We are occupying space but not being together.

It’s difficult when being with one is so simple and freeing and being with the other is so fraught and difficult… but I truly want to be with both of them. I feel myself disconnecting again. And only one of them is allowing me to connect to him and to the rest of the universe through him.

This is my life: the parking lot

I hadn’t seen him in way too long. We were both hungering for each other. I met him for dinner though I had already eaten and wasn’t hungry for anything other than the sight of him. The touch of his lips. I had prepared for our particular relationship complications by putting a pillow and sleeping bag in the car.

We climbed in the back with the windows rolled partially down. It was warm and he was soft. It was quiet and I was enjoying holding him as he held me. I was so comfortable that I almost fell asleep. He shifted and I pulled him back to me for a kiss. Then he said it:

“I want you so badly.”

I wanted him too. When I pulled him back to me, I felt him hard against my belly. I grabbed it through his pants. Then I wanted to feel his skin. I had his pants unzipped and his cock in my hand. My mouth sucking on his tongue. He put his hand down my pants. His fingers inside me. I bit him hard as I came in the parking lot in the back seat of my car, hoping I wasn’t being loud enough to attract unwanted attention.

I pulled away from him and his lazy smile looked so pleased. But I wanted him to cum too. I pushed him back and put his lovely cock in my mouth. Until he came all over his shirt. In the back seat of my car in the parking lot. I pulled back to see the dreamy look on his face. A few minutes later, someone walked by and looked in at us. Both fully clothed but looking quite languidly satisfied. Maybe the passer by noticed the large wet stain on his shirt. It was hard to miss.

Nobody can’t get no satisfaction (sometimes)

The problem (aside from not getting nearly enough of it) with having sexual experiences so shockingly exceptional is… that it can become a craving. And anything less can seem undesirable. This isn’t to say that I don’t treasure that night. I do. I wouldn’t change it or give it up for the world. If I had it to do over again, I’d do the same thing. But now I have this odd love/hate relationship with sex when it comes to the Wild Thing. I hope for something transcendent again. Every time. But I also fear I’ll never feel that again.

The other problem is that I am now giving something (partially de-kinked sex*) to the Wild Thing that I don’t seem to be able to manage with the Husband. It isn’t for lack of trying. It’s just that they are two different men and I have two different dynamics with them. I’ve given it some thought. My current conclusion is that my dynamic with the Husband includes a very healthy dose of S/m. And for him, sex is intrinsically linked with pain of some sort. Emotional, physical, both. So though he tells me he wants vanilla sex. Lovemaking. No kink. His cock won’t cooperate with that idea in his head.

And really, neither of these are gargantuan problems. I still manage to fuck the Wild Thing whenever I get the chance. Sometimes it’s transcendent. Sometimes it’s merely wonderful. And while it probably looks like “lovemaking” or “non-kinky” sex to the Husband, it isn’t. *The D/s dynamic permeates every interaction the Wild Thing and I have, including sex. So whether it’s transporting me across the universe or just across the room and into bed, my sex with the Wild Thing is D/s sex. It isn’t vanilla by a long shot.

30 Days of Kink: 26 – 30

This went significantly longer than 30 days! But finally, the last installment.

26. What’s your opinion of online BDSM play?

I think it’s not at all the same as playing in person. There is a very different feel to a scene where someone else is administering the pain/bondage/etc. Yes, the bottom can always (at least in theory) stop the scene with a safeword when playing in person. However, when playing online, it’s as easy as simply stopping since the other person is not there to prevent it. In addition to that, another person doesn’t know exactly how it feels in the moment to be tied/flogged/spanked/etc, and s/he is going to be the one doing the actions. When administering pain or bondage to yourself, you can simply not hit quite as hard (or hit a bit harder) to get the desired (by you) result. The top is usually going to hit harder/softer to get the reaction (or desired result) s/he wants. All that being said, I wouldn’t go so far (as I’ve seen others do) as to call online play “fake.” It’s real, it’s simply different.

27. Do your non-kink interests ever find their way into your kinky activities? If so, how?

In an extremely roundabout way… I enjoy reading, so researching new techniques or new ways of structuring relationships can be fun! I also need to know a fair amount about human anatomy for my work, so that has come in handy on several occasions.

28. How do you dress for kink/BDSM play? What significance does your attire have to you?

What I wear runs the gamut from a leather corset over a latex catsuit with 6″ heel boots to… playing totally naked. It really depends on where I’ll be and what I’m doing. Sometimes the venue has a dress code, which I will abide by. That is often defined as “something kinky.” Often one can’t show nipples, genitals, or butt crack at the more public fetish events. At home, I still might wear boots (there can be no boot worship without boots) or latex (I find the dressing & shining process quite erotic) or other kinky clothes. If I’m going to be crawling around on a bed or the floor (if I’m going to do a significant amount of floor rigging or I’m going to be sexing up my play partner) then I am most likely not going to be wearing the boots or corsets. I’m much more likely to be naked or nearly naked. So I’d say that some of the clothing is significant in that it is a kink of mine either directly (boot worship) or indirectly (I love shiny clothing such as latex or pvc), it certainly isn’t necessary for me to enjoy some fun kinky times!

29. Do you have a BDSM title (e.g. mistress, master, slut, pig, whore, princess, goddess, ma’am, sir)? What is your opinion of the use of titles in general?

I don’t have any attachment to any title. The one quirk I have in regards to titles is not appreciating anyone who isn’t my property calling me master or mistress. Other than that, I am fine with anything from my name to Grand High Mistress of Everything! Though the last one might cause me to burst into laughter. I also don’t particularly care if others want to use titles. As long as they understand that I, and anyone I own, may or may not choose to use them.

30. Whatever BDSM/kink related thing you want to write about.

Sometimes, it’s good to remember things…

Like just because I’m the dominant partner, it doesn’t mean that I get everything I want. Or get to do everything I want. And that’s generally fine. Sometimes I still don’t get what I want because what I want isn’t in the best interest of my partner(s). Sometimes I have to make the call that nobody is going to get what they want because that’s what is best for everyone. Sometimes I don’t get what I want because there simply aren’t enough hours in the day. Sometimes I don’t get what I want because I chose to sacrifice that in favor of getting to have a wonderful relationship that has other benefits than “This person/these people will be able to give me everything I want.” Sometimes I don’t get what I want because physics or nature simply don’t allow for it. Sometimes that’s just the way the cookie crumbles. But you know what all those things have in common? I am still the one making the call about whether or not I’m getting everything I want. (Except for the physics/nature issue. And if I could change that, I really would.)