A new position for fucking

I awoke in the early morning, and found Amy sleeping in roughly the position below, except nude of course.
With my erection already pressed against her naked ass, it was a simple matter to swing up and straddle her extended leg, press the other up and out of the way to open access to her pussy, and then force my way into her as she woke up.

With lovely easy access to her breasts as well, I found I could hold onto her thigh for hard thrusting, or lean forward and seize a nipple between forefinger and thumb, and gripping it tightly, rest my weight on that hand.

The net effect of gripping her nipple is to basically pin her to the bed by her nipple. A little pressure on her shoulder, pulling her as if trying to roll her onto her back, stretches her nipple in the most wonderful way, and gets an instant reaction from her.

It took a little persistent thrusting to open up her pussy fully for a good hard fucking, since she wasn’t fully awake when I started, but once we were under way this turned out to be a wonderful position to fuck her in. Plus, I easily rolled her over and fucked her the exact same way as she lay on her other side.

We will do this again.

Should you call your girlfriend cunt?

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Amy told me, the other night while we were cuddling in bed, that she doesn’t like it when I call her cunt when I am fucking her.

WTF?

She was hoping I’d call her something more romantic, like “Sweetie,” or “Angel,” or some such name.

Now, keep in mind I don’t call her “a cunt.” No, she is “Cunt,” an entirely different creature altogether.

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She has since claimed to be teasing me, but what am I to guess from this? I know the humiliation I make her feel sometimes through word and action is very hot, for both of us. So, does she really not like being Cunt, or is this a ploy to make me think she really doesn’t like it, and therefore I’ll use it more, heightening the humiliation factor.

Amy doesn’t play mental games.

She does tease, though.

I just think she doesn’t like being Cunt.

Amy is easily the smartest person I know. I have shifted to a new technique when debating topics with her. Namely, don’t pick any position, because Amy will outflank and outmaneuver any logical position with my old nemesis, accurate facts. I hate accurate facts. And she seems to know them all.

Amy reminds me of a Vulcan. All brains and thinky thinky until pon farr hits, and then she’s an excited mass of sexual passion. Seriously, Amy is very intelligent and articulate, but during sex, when she has been properly aroused, she speaks, but the sounds don’t form proper words. All she can say that you understand is “no,” and “please.”

To me, she has become thoroughly female. Completely, 100% cunt.

And what other word could I use? Vagina? Pussy?

No.

I remember running across the word “queynte,” in my old Chaucer reading days. A form of “cunt,” and also meaning knowledge, or cunning if you like. The word “cunt” seems to have been formed from the feminine syllable “co,” pronounced “coo.” Long recognized as a feminine syllabel, you see it today even in phrases like “hootchie-coo,” for example.

While nothing is certain, it is put forward by some that the word evolved through numerous usages, possibly through the Latin “cunae,” which you will recognize as related to “cuneform,” and is seen in the word ” cunnus,” Latin for “vagina.”

The final syllable is often linked to Scandanavian usages of the word meaning “wife,” or “woman” or related meaning such as “kone,” “kut,” “kuton,” “kunta,” and “kutte.”

The Dutch are given credit, ultimately, for the addition of the “t” to the word, and their influence seemed to have been what resulted in the final shape of the word. To run the risk of over-simplification, the “cu” seems to have evolved from the Proto-Indo-European language, the “n” from the Latin, and the “t” from the Dutch, to find a final amalgamation in the word “cunt,”

It’s first recorded in England as a street name in various redlight districts of cities such as London and Oxford, which had streets named “Gropecuntlane.”

Cunt.

A fine word, with a distinguished pedigree, but currently in disfavor, and out of polite usage.

I, however, am not so polite.

When I am fucking her…

Amy is Cunt.

Amy’s breasts

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I write this in bed tonight, in the dark. Amy lies beside me nude, the duvet pulled down to her waist, her soft breasts bare in the pale light and her nipples semi erect. I stroke her breasts very, very lightly, feeling their softness, the firmness of her nipples. Even in her sleep just the slightest touch makes them harden.

I can’t touch them like this; not when she is awake.

The slightest touching of her breasts, let alone her nipples, sends her into immediate arousal. Touch them for more than a few seconds, and she begins to writhe and grind and whimper, so much that in can be hard to even keep contact with her breasts as she lies beside me in the bed, squirming and heating up quickly with desire.

I’ve never seen anything like it.

I swear, her breasts have a direct connection to her clitoris. She has a phenomenal sex drive as it is, and with such sensitive and responsive breasts it’s hard not to keep sending her into a state of eager and compliant arousal.

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Amy compelled to pull her t-shirt up and show her breasts

Amy has learned that she has two kinds of orgasms. The first is an all encompassing clitoral orgasm that leaves her exhausted and satisfied. The second type is less focused on clitoral stimulation, and milder, without relieving the urge for the first type. This second type can come repeatedly, sometimes without even touching her. There have been instances when she has been very aroused, and something I say can send her into this second type of orgasm.

With extended breast play, Amy can go through multiple orgasms. Oral sex especially sends her into one long orgasmic plateau. When aroused, she has no idea how many she has had, nor how long she has been having sex. I have no idea either, as I don’t know when she is having them. I am aware of when she suddenly holds her breath while I am playing with her clitoris, but I don’t know if that exactly corresponds with her minor orgasms.

Her big orgasms are always solo; she doesn’t have multiples of those. When I first started playing with her, I couldn’t identify those either. Amy would just go very still, and hold her breath, not making a sound. She focused entirely on the sensations washing over her, but to an outside observer, it looked like nothing was happening at all.

Lately, during her big orgasms, she has been moaning ever so slightly, and rocking a little from side to side. Still not much demonstration of the powerful sensations she describes rushing over her, but more evident than before, if just barely.

I have teased her about becoming my anal slut. She hates that, and resists the idea very strongly. The other night, I held her in my arms, and ever so slowly, began to separate her ass cheeks, and slowly stimulated her ass hole. Her hips betrayed her arousal, and when I whispered in her ear about fucking her ass, she came twice, the little orgasms that don’t relieve desire.

She is not happy with the implications of that.

Making her starved for orgasms

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Amy hadn’t cum for a day or two, and really wanted to cum. The previous night, at some small hour of the morning, I awoke when Amy bit my neck in her sleep. She wanted to cum, she told me. I told her the next night I wanted to put her in chains and explore her body with my mouth, and that I would have her cum then.

We went to bed early that following night, skipping dinner, and neglecting the rest of “The Last Tango in Paris.” Amy was anxious; a woman used to coming daily, and now orgasm starved for – well I don’t remember exactly how long. Long enough, apparently. I reminded her about the chains, which she had thought was just a sleep induced thought of mine from the night before, and offered to go get her chains.

I said “No.”

I didn’t want her doing anything.

I got the chains myself.

I made her lie patiently on the bed, awaiting my return. Then, as I fitted the chains to her body, I explained to her that this was for my pleasure, and she wasn’t to do anything, just to respond in whatever way her body led her. I carefully made certain that she knew I wanted to explore her body for my own interests, and that I wasn’t interested in giving her an orgasm, but that I would play with her as long as I felt like it, and when I had had my fill of exploring her, she would then masturbate for me.

After chaining her, I flipped her over on her belly, and began exploring her back and arms with my mouth and hands. After a while, I moved down to her lower back, and then to her ass. With the chains on her ankles, I couldn’t open her ass cheeks as easily as I would have liked, as her legs could only spread so wide, but I was still able to use my tongue and fingers to test her little asshole in various ways. Her hips began to move rather rhythmically at times.

Gentle whimpers.

A pleasant background music to my own focused interest.

Some time later, I rolled her onto her back, and explored her belly and thighs with my mouth and hands. I left aside her breasts, as I knew she would likely writhe and thrash if I explored them, and I wanted a quieter, more contemplative ambience.

I eventually found my way to her pussy, and played with it until I grew tired of exploring, my lips fully satiated with the taste of Amy’s delicious body, and moved alongside her to twist her nipples as she masturbated herself to a mandated orgasm.

She came fast.

I held her for a while after she came, then later I fucked her, long after her own orgasm had subsided, for the delicious pleasure of just using her body. The chains make entering her a bit awkward, but the different angle of penetration is always welcome, and I came in her with a sharp intensity.

Going in BDSM full-time

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I’ve been meaning for a while to talk about how Richard and I got together. I mentioned in an earlier post that we met online, and that we IMed for several months before we finally met in person. Originally we interacted in a very vanilla way, and I thought he was fantastic. He was so smart and funny and articulate.

But stepping back, the first time I saw his avatar (the small picture that is attached to a post), I felt like I’d been kicked in the stomach. His face – he was magnetic. I had a gut level, primal response to him. I wanted him.

We flirted for a month, showing up in the same threads on a BDSM board, teasing each other, dancing around a more personal connection. Tease, retreat, watch, tease, retreat.

After a month, after being teased to a frenzy, I emailed him. Still very light-hearted, flirtatious. I didn’t expect a response; I felt like a freshman girl making eyes at the quarterback. He was so gorgeous, so self-assured, so charming. Why would he be interested in me?

He replied almost instantly. I answered; he replied quickly again. I told myself that he was a very friendly person, that he was probably emailing many women at the same time, in the same way. I had butterflies in my stomach every time I checked my email.

It heated up quickly. I read through our old emails yesterday, in preparation for writing this, and was surprised at how often we wrote over the first two weeks and how soon we were talking about serious things.

We began talking on the phone after a week or so, then began IMing a couple of weeks later. At least a couple of hours a day, talking to each other and, as I said before, most of that talk pretty vanilla. Any “kink” talk was more…theoretical. A bit about what each of us liked, but more of Richard answering my questions, since I’d never had a D/s relationship.

Then, one day, I was IMing with a friend and Richard wanted my attention. He sent me an email commanding me to perform a specific task. At first I thought he was joking, and I sent him a cyber-kiss back and said I was IMing with my friend. He sent a stern reply, basically asking if I knew what happened to girls who didn’t do what they were told.

Wow. I can’t explain it. It was like the ground shifted under me. We had teased a little before, about chasing and spanking, etc. (He’d sign his emails “catch you soon” – it always gave me a little thrill.) This was different. He’d changed the rules. He was commanding me. He was treating me like a submissive, something noone had ever done before.

I said goodbye to my friend and got right on my task. He was pleased but still stern, because of my delay. I didn’t sleep much that night. I was on fire.

After that, we would still have long discussions and joke and tease, but always there was the underlying current of his dominance and my submission. He began demanding more of me, first pictures and then more of me on cam. It would be hard to overstate how shy about my body I was then and how unlike me it was to agree to this.

He was patient, but persistent. A little more every day, and I never hesitated when he commanded me. It never occurred to me. Occasionally I would get insecure or sad after a session – what is called “sub drop” – but we would talk through it and within a day I was back on track. Richard wrote about this happening recently in an earlier post. Both of us were surprised by how unhesitating I was in my obedience. I had always thought that, if I were ever lucky enough to be in a D/s relationship, I would be one of those bratty, sassy subs, always challenging my dom. No way. I’m too invested in being a good girl, and Richard is way too scary to disobey. Occasionally I fantasize about it, but even when I make noises about disagreeing I back down really fast.

During one email exchange at this time, I had asked Richard some questions about the logistics of us getting together. He replied that he needed to complete some things over the next few weeks and then he was coming to get me, to claim me. It gave me goosebumps. I replied jokingly that I had thought we were going to have a nice vanilla discussion about logistics. His reply: “We are done with vanilla”.

And we were. More than I knew. As I’ve said before, I had really thought of myself as a bedroom submissive, and expected to be my usual dominant, assertive self outside the bedroom. And I am in all other relationships, but not with Richard. I submit to Richard, always and in all ways. He is unquestionably my Master.

And yet. I have never had a partner who was this concerned about my feelings and needs, so willing to share in the work as well as the pleasure of a relationship, so much a partner. I can talk to him for hours, about everything from politics to child rearing to science to literature. We laugh about everything and tease each other unmercifully. Last night he put me in chains and then explored my body with his mouth and hands for two hours. I came again and again. A few nights before he gave me a full body massage. Slavery – I can live with this.

I was going to talk about our first meeting here, but this post is already getting long, so I’ll save that for a later post.

Orgasm denial for my girlfriend

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I had fucked Amy like a stranger in her chains the previous evening, and didn’t let her cum, despite her obvious need.

In the night, I removed her chains, and when morning came, began to play with her again. I fucked her from behind for what seemed like a gloriously long time, then flipped her onto her back so I could make her masturbate. I like her to cum while masturbating, then I enter her still pulsing body to finally empty myself into her as well. Amy is a delicious fuck while she is in the afterglow of orgasm.

This time, I forced her to masturbate, and knew that her frustration from the night before would make her need intense.

I whispered in her ear as she masturbated, and played with her nipple roughly, and ordered her to play with herself.

I could feel a difference today – she was very aroused, but some sort of frustration was holding her back, keeping her from cumming. She kept coming sooooo close, and then losing it, and then finding it again and sending herself close once again.

I love watching Amy masturbate, I love feeling her movements, but I wanted to fuck her now. I was tired of her masturbating, and I wanted in her. I took her hand, and pushed it harshly to one side, and moved between her legs. Amy cried out in frustration, but I entered her, and began fucking her. She whimpered, and I could feel how much she wanted to cum, but instead I fucked her, came in her, and then I was finished with her.

She can cum later.

Maybe tomorrow.

How I chained my girlfriend

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The chains took me by surprise.

Three chains, very simple, very light, medium length.

Got them at PetSmart.

One links her wrist cuffs to each other, the other links her ankles together, like a horse hobble, and the third loops through her collar, and has a padlock dangling at the end between her breasts.

I kept her in them for the evening, that first time, and took her to bed in them. I could easily control her body as I played with her, by holding the chains, and found her easy to arouse, and found myself actually indifferent to her pleasure or pain. A very different feeling; I’ve always thought of pleasure and pain as ways to control her, but in the chains, I found little desire to ether give her pleasure, or pain.

Hard to explain, but her pleasure and pain didn’t matter – she was just “there” to use, to fuck.

I talked to her about it a little bit, then I fucked her like she was a stranger, some beautiful woman bound and placed in my bed that I would never see again, a woman I had no relationship with, a woman who didn’t matter. Just a pretty body to use for pleasure.

Disconcerting. No reason, then to hurt her, and none to pleasure her.

I fucked her at a different angle, the ankle chains keeping her thighs closer together than usual, and she responded to the new sensation of this penetration with obvious pleasure. Of course it didn’t matter.

I had told her I would not let her cum. I fucked her, and took her chained and aroused body in my arms. She wanted to cum, but I wouldn’t let her.

We talked after, about the emotional disconnect from each other, and how it made her seem more owned and helpless, and yet more distant. Closer, and yet further away.

I think it is that the chains amplify how I am feeling, rather than simply bringing in a whole new set of feelings.

I am sure I will want to hurt her while she is chained. We will see.

Why being chained is the hottest thing

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Two evenings in a row I’ve worn chains. We are both surprised by the strength of our response to them. I hope Richard will talk about his feelings separately.

Night before last (which I wrote about in the post below), I asked Richard to take off my chains after we had been in bed a couple of hours. I had a bad headache and they were making it hard to sleep.

Last night I was surprised when Richard told me to get my chains. He loves variety and we seldom do the same thing two days running – shibari, corset training, spanking, face fucking, etc. – all of those happen once or twice and then something new catches his fancy in the short term.

The mood was very different from the night before. We watched a movie (Honeymoon in Vegas), then sat on the couch and talked for a couple of hours. Well, Richard sat. I lay with my feet in his lap. We were talking desultorily, joking, Richard was rubbing my feet on and off. In other words, not a highly charged, D/s erotic mood.

Around 11 pm he said it was time for bed and we headed upstairs. He didn’t take off my chains. He didn’t fuck me. He just pulled me to him and we fell asleep.

 

I woke up around 5:30 feeling very…different. Richard was still asleep; usually he wakes up before me. I laid there, quietly watching him. I needed to go to the bathroom, but I never thought of asking him and I didn’t think of getting up and going without permission. I just waited.

After about 15 minutes, he woke up. He didn’t smile at me, like he usually does. Maybe because I wasn’t smiling, like I usually am. He just stared at me with his beautiful eyes. After a minute or so, he pulled me up against his chest. I still needed to pee, but I didn’t say anything. About 10 minutes passed.

“You need to go pee. Go.”

So I went. He watched me walk slowly across the bedroom, careful not to trip on my leg chains. On the way, I tried to think about how I felt. I always feel submissive to Richard, always. This was different. I felt…passive is the best word I can think of. I wasn’t going to disturb him to ask permission; I waited until it occurred to him. I think I would have waited a long time.

When I came back to bed, Richard rolled me onto my back and pulled my hands above my head by the chain attached to my wrist restraints. He played with my breasts for a while, rolling my nipples between his fingers and pulling. I started making little noises in my throat, and my hips started moving of their own accord. He slid his hand between my legs and began playing with my clit.

Sometimes when I become aroused, the intensity of it causes me to pull away. I tried to roll away from Richard, but he pressed down with the palm of his hand, never taking his fingers from my clit. I tried to pull my hands down to cover myself, but he wrapped the chain around his fist and pinned my wrists more securely above my head.

My attempts to free myself were clearly hopeless. There was nothing I could do to make him stop. He could do anything he wanted to me. I stopped fighting and quieted down. When he told me to masturbate, I did without a sound. I came, and he fucked me, without any talking, without words. It was so intense, so different, almost like being fucked by a stranger.

Writing this, I finally understand what was so different for me. Yes, I am submissive to Richard. I’m submissive all day, every day, in the bedroom and out. I have never disobeyed him. But I always have that option. I always have the option to say no, to leave, to quit. When I am in chains, that is no longer true. Richard can do whatever he wants, and I can’t stop him. I am truly at his mercy.

Hot.

I got chained by my master

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I came in from work this evening, showered and changed into a sarong. Richard likes me wearing just a sarong, tied around my hips, when I’m at home. He put on my collar.

Later I tied on my new jingle skirt (I call it) that I use for belly dance class. I looove how it sounds when I move.

Then Richard brought out some new toys that he got yesterday. (He wouldn’t tell me what they were and I have been squirming about it for 24 hours straight.)

First he put on my leather wrist restraints, and locked a chain between them. He gave me enough slack to work on my laptop. (Thank you, Sir.)

He put on new ankle restraints, and locked a slightly longer chain between them.

He locked a short chain onto the front of my collar.

He sat back to look at me, reached out and grabbed my collar chain, pulled me to him with a growl and kissed me roughly.

“It’s a short leash. I like you on a short leash.”

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He handed me the packaging from the locks and told me to throw it away in the kitchen. The leg chain didn’t stop me from taking normal steps, but it was easy to trip on, so I had to walk very slowly and carefully. He watched me the whole way there and back.

When I came back, I curled up against him. I was a tiny bit scared he was going to make me sit at his feet. I was already feeling a bit overwhelmed by my chains, and when I’m feeling nervous or insecure I like to be as close to him as possible. So I nuzzled up against his chest quietly and hoped. But I think he was too happy looking at me and hearing me jingle to make me sit on the floor, so I’m still up on the couch.

Occasionally he reaches over and pulls me to him by my leash, then kisses me or fondles my breasts. I’m so happy to be next to him.

The only thing marring my happiness is the nipple clamps sitting in a heap on the coffee table. I’m hoping he’s forgotten about them…

How to manhandle a cocktease

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My girl is a tease.

She’s very playful all the time, but tends to curtail that playfulness sexually. In bed anyways.

Not anymore.

I woke up groggy the other morning, with a velvet hand stroking my nether parts to firm attention. The sudden shift of blood to a region well away from my brain did nothing to decrease my foggy state of mind. Suddenly, Amy lifted herself up and over me, carefully lowering herself with a big playful smile onto my cock.

Well.

She leans forward, with her wonderful 38D breasts right in my face, and begins some very slow movements with her hips. Very slow, very teasing.

I make a few thrusts up into her, and with the third thrust she rises up into the air, preventing my cock from actually driving into her. She begins the slow movements again, which I savor, until I give her a few deep upward thrusts, which she teasingly interrupts again by rising up out of reach, matching my motions with a playful movement that keeps my cock poised just inside her pussy, and no deeper.

Plus she pulls her breasts out of reach and away from my mouth from time to time.

Devilishly wicked, and very wonderfully sensual.

Every so often I simply grab her hips, and hold her in place while I fuck her from below for a few moments, before I allow her to continue teasing me again.

She’s sexy.

And smiling the whole time, except when she gets a little overcome by the sensations herself.

Eventually, the teasing session evolves into her getting flipped onto her back on the bed, and seriously fucked hard.

As she should be.