Delaying sex to make her more horny

As I mentioned in a previous post, I’d hoped to get Richard drunk on daquiris and seduce him Tuesday night. To no avail. A few minutes after posting my wicked plans, I passed out face down on the couch. Honestly, he must have slipped something into my drink because no way do I get drunk that easily. Or maybe the long day had weakened my tolerance…

I woke up to the dog barking. Richard came over because I was so confused and gently helped me up. I couldn’t figure out what time or day it was. He finally managed to get me upstairs, where I proceeded to fall face first on the bed.

He took off my clothes and tucked me into bed.

I woke up in the morning feeling fine. We sleep in spoons, with my ass in his lap and his arms around me, holding my wrists in his hands. I wiggled around and snuggled up under his arm. He pulled me closer.

I started kissing his neck and nibbling on his chest and shoulders. He squeezed me tighter but didn’t open his eyes.

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I rubbed my chest against his. This usually works to wake him up. Today he just caressed me lightly for a moment then fell back asleep.

I flipped over and wiggled my ass against his belly. That woke him up.

“What are you doing, little girl?” he said groggily.

I giggled. He grabbed me by the hip and pulled me closer. I ground into him.

He groaned and buried his face in my hair. I could feel him nuzzling the back of my neck. His hand reached around to my breasts. He caressed them gently then began playing with my nipples.

But after a couple of minutes he fell back asleep!

This was challenging. I really needed him to fuck me. After a couple of minutes of fruitlessly rubbing and wiggling and snuggling, I knew that I had to do something more.

“Would you please spank me?”

“What?”

“Please spank me Richard. I really need a spanking.”

“Really? You WANT a spanking?”

“Yes please.”

He was wide awake.

“Roll over.”

“Yes sir.”

I rolled over. Then I got nervous.

“I don’t need a HARD spanking. Just a LITTLE spanking is fine.”

“Oh really.”

He began smacking my bottom, moving from side to side.

“Oh! Yes, just a little. Oh!”

“You want to decide how much spanking you get?”

He smacked a bit harder, and then he stayed in one place for a few smacks. That hurts worse.

I didn’t want to answer that question. Yes, of course I want to decide. But if I say that, will I get in more trouble? Probably. I kept quiet. Well, except for the inadvertent squeaks when he smacked me particularly hard.

But then he stopped and rolled me over and looked into my eyes.

“I like spanking you.”

“Yes.” (I know that, that’s why I asked him to spank me. I was hoping it would get me laid.)

He reached out, took my hand and placed it on his cock. His hard cock.

“I really like spanking you.”

“Ooooohhhh.”

And then, before I had time to think, he flipped me back onto my belly, hauled my ass into the air and slammed his cock into me. And it just got better from there.

So I did seduce him, eventually. No thanks to the daquiris.

Ownership, sharing and monogamy

Richard has discussed in an earlier post his interest in MMF threesomes, and his decision NOT to pursue them in our relationship. His decision was based on my very clear, very loud concerns about them (basically having to do with the potential physical and emotional dangers of bringing another man into the relationship), which led him to feel that it would be psychologically harmful to me to pursue them.

Mia, who posts here sometimes and has a great blog “What We Did Last Night”, posted about a MMF threesome she had recently. I loved her post and it helped me to understand what Richard meant when he talked about what turned him on about them: the woman’s over-stimulation and loss of self-control.

And for him, it is the ultimate sign of ownership, to share what is yours with another.
Amy – owned by Richard
I have always been monogamous. I think maybe I fall in love with anyone I fuck. I actually read something recently that supported that idea; oxytocin levels rise after fucking, oxytocin is a “bonding” hormone (grossly oversimplified), I figure I probably have the world’s highest naturally occurring levels of oxytocin. I am so completely focused on Richard that it is hard to imagine being attracted to another man, much less fucking him! And fucking him while Richard watches! Or joins in! Ack!

However, I’ve been thinking about threesomes a lot lately, because I know how erotic Richard finds them. I think maybe they are his biggest turn-on. I wonder if maybe I feel secure enough in our relationship to try this. It scares me, but maybe being scared can be part of the eroticism, like it is with being blindfolded or handcuffed. I really don’t know.

Richard says that every fantasy he has acted out/lived has turned out much better than he expected. I’ve always felt that fantasies are just that, and don’t need to be lived to be enjoyed. But now I’m living a life that I didn’t even know enough to fantasize about, and it’s WONDERFUL. So maybe this would be the same.

After we had been talking online for about a month, Richard sent me the following short-short story. (I had to dig and dig through my email to find it. I LOVE reading our old emails. The yearning!) I found the story very hot, but didn’t seriously consider it as something that could or would ever happen. I still find it hot…

Answering Richard’s call, Amy entered the room.

A man she didn’t recognize stood talking to Richard.

“Stand here,” Richard said. Then to the man, “show me what you meant.”

Amy, barefoot in a delicate t-shirt and sarong, waited as the stranger deftly untied the sarong, letting it drop to the floor.

Naked from the waist down, Amy stood shyly as the man used her lower body to illustrate some complex tattoo he had once seen, turning Amy around once to show exactly how it had risen over someone’s buttocks.

The demonstration over, Amy waited quietly.

“Beautiful woman,” said the man, almost as an afterthought.

“Yes she is,” answered Richard. “Listen, why don’t you stay for dinner?” With a nod indicating Amy, “We can sit up later with whiskey, and take turns fucking her by the fire.”

“Sounds wonderful.”

Richard turned to Amy.

“One more for dinner.”

Trying to get him drunk

Shhhh. I’m trying to get Richard drunk.

We’ve been way too busy. And then we went out into the desert which was wonderful BUT I didn’t get the hot tent sex I was hoping for.

Why? Because it was Memorial Day weekend. Doh. We could hear when the neighboring campers zipped open their tent, for goodness sake.

You may be thinking here “But wait. Wasn’t she posing for nekkid pics out there?” Well yes. The campsites were completely full, but nobody seemed to go more than about 10 meters from their site. So that was not a problem.

And by the way. Richard had shown me a lovely picture, a panorama of the desert with, far in the distance, a woman perched on a rock. Me. Naked, yes, if you looked hard enough. But blending in to the natural surroundings, much like the lizard he posted below. That’s what I thought he was going to share with you.

But nooooooo. I open up the blog to see what everyone has said about the desert trip (I’m becoming very attached to y’all) and I get a FACEFUL of Amy. I’m glad people liked it, but I’ll admit it was a bit of a shock.

Anyway. I’ve made a blenderful of strawberry daquiris. I’m plying him with them. Richard didn’t drink until his thirties, whereas I come from Germanic stock and so have been drinking since I was knee high to a grasshopper (as they say in Holland) (not really).

So I’m thinking that I will be able to get him drunk and take advantage of him. Maybe even tie him up? Who knows what can happen when you get a domly type tipsy (say THAT three times fast)?

I’m a teensy bit worried that he may have alternative plans however. I just noticed that his glass is quite a bit fuller than mine. Hmmmm. I’m going to log off now and refresh his drink. Wish me luck!

Going to camping … and fucking in the wild

We are leaving first thing in the morning to go camping! Wheee!

I’ve been focusing on loading our gear, planning menus and getting the house ready for us to be gone. Watering plants, setting the thermostat, etc. Plus it has to be clean because if we’re in a car accident and someone has to come into the house to get stuff for us, it has to be clean, right? Otherwise it’s like if you wear dirty underwear and you’re in an accident and they bring you to emergency and the doctors and nurses see your dirty underwear. Ew. The stress alone could kill you.

I’m excited to show Richard this part of the desert that he’s never seen. I’m excited to be in a tent with him for the first time. I’m excited to be alone with him away from cell phones and laptop computers, where nobody from the office can find me.

We’re doing something in the desert that I’m not excited about though. Or I guess I’m excited, but much more nervous than excited. We’re going to do a photoshoot in the desert. So I’m going to be out in the open, naked as a jaybird, posing for Richard.

I love posing for Richard. He makes me feel very beautiful when he’s photographing me; he’s always very complimentary and appreciative. And I can tell when he’s really gotten something good from the look on his face and his tone of voice.

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He’s quite a perfectionist about his photography, so a session can go on for a long time. One time I just wanted one teeny little picture in my bride panties and ohmygosh you’d think I asked for a portrait of the Pope. Every angle, every room of the house, every light level you can think of. (Before I get into trouble, I will admit that this is a bit of an exaggeration. He probably photographed me for around thirty minutes. Still.)

Photographing me puts me into a bit of a submissive trance. He tells me what to do and how to move, or he simply moves me (or parts of me) himself. He’s very calm and quiet, and I get very quiet (a rare event) and passive. I’m sometimes surprised that an hour or more has gone by, and I’ll notice that I’m a bit achy from holding an awkward pose for an extended period.

Afterwards, when he’s downloading the pictures onto the laptop and sorting through them, I’ll curl up at his feet and lean against his leg. He’ll put the laptop down at my level when he wants to show me a picture he’s happy with or ask my opinion about one (he never posts anything that I feel is unattractive or that worries me in any way).

It’s too bad we can’t show our faces. I just looked across the couch at him working on his laptop and he is the most gorgeous creature! Sorry, off topic there.

I hope everyone has a wonderful weekend. Maybe I’ll come back from the desert a confirmed exhibitionist.

And maybe pigs will fly.

At least I know I’ll be having hot sex in a tent for the first time in my life!

OK, back to packing.