Purveyor of Pleasure

Pleasure is my business, my life, my joy, my purpose.

Tag: queer (Page 2 of 8)

Doublethink Over Dissonance

Onyx and I have settled in to a remarkably comfortable D/s dynamic. We have talked extensively about it, but the difference this time is that it just clicks, for lack of a better term. All the background issues that were making so much noise the last time we were trying these power roles have been resolved, thanks in large part to the many things we learned through the trial of the triad. I find myself enjoying to do things for him, and he is now more able to push and guide me than he was before. It is, in a word, wonderful.

I have noticed that I am hesitant to share this power dynamic with others, even on here to an extent. I believe this is in part due to it still, in some ways, being so new and foreign but mostly it is because it is still private and vulnerable. Despite the abundance with which I share my private feelings and thoughts on this blog (less so now than I have before, but I’m working on writing more when I don’t have writer’s block) I have an extremely difficult time sharing personal things with others, especially in person and especially those I don’t know very well. Hell, I even have trouble expressing things to Onyx sometimes which I would have no issue writing to him.

The last couple of weekends while going out with amazing people I’ve noticed myself being slightly more comfortable but still not all that comfortable with expressing my submissiveness, and that was with fellow kinky perverted people who have read my blog including stories of me being slapped and dominated and fucked. I don’t mean showing my submissvieness to them, but just talking about it.

I see others so secure in their submission and happy to proclaim to the world that they are submissive and I find myself having trouble with that. Perhaps it is because I am a switch. I can’t fully embrace my role as submissive because, although I feel submissive to Onyx, I do not feel wholly like a submissive. I cannot throw myself into submission with complete abandon because I am also a Top. Or, that is the roadblock I come to in my mind.

Although I don’t consciously think this is true, there is a part of me that thinks embracing submission fully would mean giving up the parts of myself that are not submissive. Call it internalized binary programming that says I have to be one or the other but never both. The way some people say someone can’t feel Dominant and submissive at the same time, but I highly disagree, I say I am always both and it is the people I am with and situations I am in that bring each out in me.

However, I don’t have any hesitations about expressing my dominant side. I think in part this is because it is less vulnerable, less private, in a way. I am more comfortable with it, but also because it seems to be less normative. It’s more “okay” to express because it somehow shakes up the expectations.

I feel the same way with sexuality and gender, I’m far more comfortable expressing my desires when they have to do with cis-females or trans-people than when they have to do with cis-males. Essentially, I’m far more comfortable expressing my queer sexuality than what would be seen as a hetero-sexuality, as if expressing desire for cis-males somehow makes me less queer. Of course, in some minds it does. In some minds it would completely invalidate any other expression of queerness.

Similarly with gender I have been desiring lately to express my masculine side, the personae (yes, plural) I designate as Quyn or Sebastian sometimes. I used to dress more masculine and drifted to the feminine and now I’m working on finding the way to be both or neither, to dress as I please. While I’m more comfortable expressing my femme drag queen gender identity I think because that, in some ways, is the one that is less normative, despite being assigned female at birth, but that’s a whole other post.

Perhaps in the same vein expressing submissive desires could somehow invalidate any expression of dominance. I’m not saying this is the case, but I do think that Aristotelian logic is so ingrained in our culture that it is difficult to work against. If we express ourselves as being on one side of a cultural binary we are not only saying what we are but we are saying what we are not. By this logic when I say I am submissive I’m also saying I’m not dominant. It works for everything, really: power, sexuality, gender, etc. All the identities I hold middle ground on, certainly, and others as well.

I’ve talked about this many times before, I know, and read about the phenomenon. It’s not new, but it is significant. The point I’m trying to make here, though, is that I’m more comfortable expressing one aspect but not another on these supposed binaries (and I should point out that I do not see power dynamics or sexualities as part of a binary system, but they are largely seen culturally to be so which makes operating outside of them difficult and that is why I am referring to them as binaries), and my comfortability seems to be backwards. I am comfortable expressing the non-normative desires, those outside what is culturally expected, when it’s usually (or so I think) the opposite.

I want to be just as comfortable expressing and embracing all of my identities, and the first step just like with anything is acknowledgement. I have internalized binary and aristotelian logic programming. I have internalized power dynamic programming. I can actively work on acknowledging this programming and work to move beyond it, and that’s what I’m trying to do. Instead of thinking of these socially contrary ideas in terms of conflict and feeling dissonance over them I want to get to a point of doublethink, where I am comfortable with embracing these identities that seem to be contradictory and am, further, comfortable in my own skin. That’s what it’s all about in the end, anyway.

Gender Exploration: Femme Fagette

I’ve been gravitating toward a much more “masculine” gender expression lately, really since we moved to Seattle. I’ve been slowly making my way over, though it’s only selectively masculine, it’s my fagette persona, my feminine masculinity that I’ve been working on developing.

Like my transition from bottom to Top to switch I believe this gender exploration will bring me from femme to fagette to femme fagette. Just as I knew I would end up a switch I had to explore the individual parts of that identity expression before I was able to really claim switchness for my own.

I believe in order for me to truly embrace all that is my gender identity of femme fagette, my own gender phrase and identity, I will end up never staying still in one gender for too long or coming to rest, much like switch is it’s own identity along with being Top and bottom identities and various other aspects of power and sadomasochistic and any other sexuality aspects thrown in. I claim femme fagette in the same way I claim switch, as a identity in perpetual motion, forever morphing and changing to fit my current desires.

The fagette aspect of my gender identity is somewhat femme in and of itself, so the two really are tied up within each other no matter what I do. I have days where I want to pack, wear a binder, and walk with a swagger and other days when I feel like putting on a ruffled skirt, corset, and a wig, and those days might not coincide with the identity automatically assumed.

My gender definitely has to do with both masculine and feminine energies but also a purposeful queering of those energies as much as possible. I often feel the most feminine when wearing traditionally masculine clothing, and visa verse. For me it is less about the specific gender expression than it is about playing with gender and experiencing it in a way that jives with me, however that might be.

As I mentioned in my last post I’m a bit of a chameleon, which is why, I think, I cling to such transitory identities. I enjoy labels, as I’ve gone on about ad nauseum, but the labels I end up claiming tend to be ones that are fluid such as queer, switch, poly, and femme fagette/multigendered/gender fluid, each of these can mean different things depending on the day and my mood.

One thing I worry about with terming myself “femme fagette” is that damned gender binary.

I recently opened FetLife and Twitter accounts for a “masculine” persona, Quyn or Quyntin Ari St. Syr. It was somewhat of a spur of the moment thing and inspired by Mina Meow and her persona Aiden. Ever since I’ve been thinking about what that means to have the two accounts and I know I as a whole am not fully represented now by either Scarlet or Quyn, but I wonder if I’m even partially represented.

I don’t feel like I have split personalities, both Quyn and Scarlet are me but are aspects of me but not the end all and be all of me either. There’s something missing there, and maybe that’s the complexity of how the two personae interact and feed off each other and there may be another aspect of me not yet fully grasped. I occasionally toy with the idea of getting rid of the Scarlet persona and expanding the scope of Quyn, but Scarlet has been such a part of me for so long.

I worry, however, that splitting the personae up in to, basically, a “masculine” and a “feminine” persona isn’t doing justice to what I’m actually feeling and is just working to reinforce the gender binary, as if in order to express an “other” gender identity I have to break it down into accepted gender norms. Though it could have the opposite effect, I suppose, since although I am setting up these two personae I think what I do with them could be potentially gender explosive and bust through the confining ideas of binary gender. I guess it all depends on how it’s perceived and what I do with it more than anything.

I’m still exploring and getting used to my newly embraced identities and I’m excited to see how everything progresses. I have had a lot of time recently to think about myself and my genders are something that I am working on figuring out more.

Coming Out

I’ve never really had to come out before. Until I met Onyx I was heavily involved in queer activism, which isn’t to say there aren’t straight queer activists because there are, but people assumed I was queer instead of the other way around. I had to come out as in a relationship with a man on many occasions after Onyx and I got together, which was weird in and of itself, but I got used to it. I’ve come out as queer a few times while living with Onyx, but usually it was to queers or queer allies and involved musing about the circumstance of being queer while in a heterosexual (though not straight) relationship.

Now that Marla and I are together, however, I am realizing coming out in a way I’ve never really had to before.

I recently started a new job (hooray!) and I haven’t officially come out to my co-workers. While I do sport my newest rendition of a super short awesome fauxhawky hairdo I also wear skirts and generally have fun bluring gender lines as much as possible. I don’t really make it a habit to talk about my personal life with coworkers, but the one time I referred to Marla in a conversation I called her my roommate. It was odd, and I’m not sure why I did it.

For the record, I’m not upset that I said “roommate,” and Marla isn’t mad about it or anything as that is what she called me for the first few weeks at her job, more than anything I’m curious as to why I said it and why I didn’t just say “girlfriend” or “partner” or something like that, and I’m interested at this new position I’m in to actually come out to co-workers in a fairly uncomplicated way.

I know the store I work at is queer friendly, as there are plenty of other queers that work there, and I think part of it has to do with my position of having not just a girlfriend but also a boyfriend and not wanting to get into the whole poly business with people I barely know and may or may not get to know much better in the future.

I have a feeling part of it is because of the temporary position of my job. While I’ve worked with many of the people multiple times I haven’t yet been offered a permanent position despite applying for various different ones. I think in some ways I don’t see the need to be open and honest about it with people I don’t know if I’ll ever truly be seeing again. Then again, I can’t tell if that’s even a reasonable reason, or if any of this really matters that much.

From the way I look and the way I dress now I think I’m much more visibly queer than I used to be. I also have a rainbow bracelet that I wear which Marla made for me and am sure that is a tip off for those who actually care.

Maybe that’s part of it too, though, those who actually care. If they care they would probe and it’s not as big of a deal to me as it used to be, it’s part of life but not something I feel the need to shout to everyone like I used to when I was in high school and would wear my shirt that says “I kiss girls” in rainbow letters. Maybe it’s not as big of a deal anymore because it is how it is and these aren’t people who would really care if I have a girlfriend or a boyfriend or both, as the case may be.

Size and Sexuality Study – Jane Doe

adipositivity278Image from The Adipositivity Project

This is the eleventh of many posts with answers to my Size & Sexuality Study questions within them. The responses have not been edited in any way. I hope you find them as interesting and informative as I have. I have gotten a huge number of responses already and I still want more! If you would like to answer these questions you can find more information on The Size & Sexuality Study here including links to the other responses.

This set of responses comes anonymously from a 34 year old “woman? not butch, not femme” lesbian who is “in an (open) relationship (i say open in brackets since neither of us have actually acted upon the opening up of it yet, and we haven’t quite worked out how this will take place exactly).”

What size is your body?
quite big all round, especially my thighs, I am a US size 18 for pants (UK size 20) – if they’re cut right… tops are easily 1-2 sizes less. (I don’t live in either of the countries I mention, and where I live I am way above average). if this helps, medically I am obese (and no longer just overweight).

How comfortable are you with your body both in general and your body size specifically?
I have always been overweight, ever since I can remember. I tend to oscillate between not paying any attention to it (as long as I don’t put on any more weight), and dieting strictly. I get very frustrated when I make a big effort to diet and it doesn’t work. I don’t recognise the image I get from mirrors – my inner image of myself hasn’t kept up with my weight increase.

Having said that, I do like my body in itself. I do wish it were smaller; but I also wish all that social pressure and absurd anorexic role models didn’t exist.

So, when I’m on my own and away from society I love my body- I feel self-conscious with people I don’t know, but I am happy to walk about naked on my own (I rather enjoy this), and also when my girlfriend is there. I probably don’t look at it much though…

How has your relation with and attitude toward your body and the size of your body changed over time?
Though I am bigger now, I am more comfortable with my body size now than as a teenager, when I would hide it more deliberately. I look at photos from the time and can only laugh at what I thought about it then -didn’t like it!-, and I’d love to come even close to the size I then was!

I have recently (3 yrs or so) done some sporadic yoga practice, and partly through this I have stopped thinking of myself and my body as two separate things. I hadn’t realised how I was doing this! I am trying to treat my body better.

How important is sexuality to your life?
Sexuality is very important right now. I have since my teenage years been very aware of my sensuality (my body’s!) and enjoyed that aspect very much, although not consistently, rather on and off (I have also gone through very, very nerdy, ultra-intellectual phases).

How has your relation with and attitude toward your sexuality changed over time?
This has also changed, it used to be that if I didn’t have a sexual partner I would try not to think about sex (but would seize any occasion to express this!). Nowadays I fell a lot more sexual and am exploring this intensely.

How comfortable are you with expressing yourself and your body sexually?
I am extremely comfortable – in the privacy of my home or my partner’s, on my own or with her. But not outside. I can be very self-conscious. I often don’t wear prettier, more striking clothes for feeling that dressing up a lot looks ridiculous on my body. I go for neutral, trying not to stand out. I am also shy by nature but my size has never helped… If I am considering approaching a girl I find attractive, it never occurs to me that she might not reject me because of my body, since that is the reaction I expect from everyone; I assume only after they get to know me there might be a chance that they decide to overlook the fact that I am fat… and so, unless I am already desperately in love, or maybe if I’m very very drunk, I never approach anyone.

How comfortable is society with the idea of viewing your body as sexual?
I am very aware of the anorexic role-models in today’s society and all the pressure put on women through them. I always comment on -and am comforted by- how famous paintings depict women with nice round bellies and hips as sexual, eg in famous artistic nudes. Look at the first bikinis and the girls who modelled them – they all had a belly and a nice round bottom! So I am aware that the extreme rejection of body fat is a circumstantial, prejudiced view of our times, and cannot be accepted as objective. I rebel against it; however, I still feel the enormous pressure out there and I hate it. – I also realise I am much bigger than the female figures I mentioned, but it is in this society where I will be furthest from the touted ideal. I also feel it is unfair that men are not rejected immediately for their size, at least if they are intelligent or succesful, and women don’t have that luxury. This I find particularly harrowing: I am successful on an intellectual level, but will stay a social pariah.

Through answering these questions and/or thinking about your relation to your body and your sexuality, have you noticed any links or similarities between the two? If so, what?
Of course! I have slowly come to terms with my body, but the outside obstacles to expressing my sexuality remain. This excludes my girlfriend, but they would reappear if I were single again, or when I consider whether or how to actively seek fuckingbuddies withing my open relationship. It’s not just a stupid hang-up: first impressions are extremely important, and I can’t help my body size (or stupid social obsessions) from playing a big part in them.

Anything else you would like to add?
I do feel very lucky to be lesbian, though, because the pressure on straight women is so much greater. Until I fell madly in love with a girl and realised I was a lesbian, I used to date men, and I felt even more inadequate. Either growing old or lesbian relationships or both have helped immensely in the positive changes I described in earlier answers.

Butch/Femme (HNT)

This week’s HNT was Marla’s idea. We’ve been doing a lot of gender play since she got here in many different forms, and that combined with my newly cut hair, walking through this park a couple days ago and wanting to take pictures in front of the waterfalls, and the dress she’s wearing (which I was wearing yesterday) all gave her the idea for these shots.

I set up and took the pictures with my tripod and little camera remote (so handy!).

We got a little naughty in the park, it’s rare I’m on the other side of the skirt and I took full advantage of the fact she wasn’t wearing panties. Luckily there weren’t too many people around. You can see a hint of that in a couple of the pictures below.

Click any picture for a larger version of the same.

First a little of me…

butch2

butch3

One of her…

femme2

Then a little of us…

butchfemme2

butchfemme3

butchfemme4

butchfemme5

Check out Marla’s HNT for some of the same and some different photos!

Where the Kisses are Hers and Hers and His

It’s always funny how life gets in the way of blogging about life. I have had a dramatic decline in posting since meeting Marla, which is understandable because everything has been going so intense and so fast and I have just had less time to do things like post. I miss it, though. Having weeks where the only things I post are Pleasurists’ and HNT’s kind of makes me sad. While I love doing Pleasurists and posting HNT’s I am definitely itching to post.

Marla moved here on July 5th and it’s been rather crazy and amazing ever since. This is the first time she’s moved far away from her family and has never not been able to see her mother and the rest of her family on a semi-daily basis, that in itself has been difficult. In addition she also had to had emergency surgery only a few days before moving, which has also added to the stress.

The connection between Marla and me is amazing. I can’t really describe how wonderful it is. I’m constantly floating with NRE, and the strong desire and love we have for each other is a big part of the reason why she moved here so quickly.

While Marla and Onyx love each other they hadn’t had nearly as much time to build a relationship with each other than Marla and I had, which has been the largest issue since Marla arrived. It’s been hard on all of us, but the combination of stresses and not knowing how she and Onyx are going to relate has been extremely difficult on Marla. Being in the middle of it all has made me, the one who wants to fix everything immediately, often extremely frustrated as there isn’t a lot I can do to help.

We hit a breaking point a few days ago and we all spent some time apart collecting our thoughts and overanalyzing as we always do. Luckily since then things have been wonderful and the two of them have been closer as well.

Since Marla and I are both not working we have quite a bit of time together on the days Onyx is not working, which is very nice for all that NRE business to get semi out of our systems (for lack of a better term) before he comes home so we can all focus on being together. It’s really quite an odd situation, but we are doing our bests to make it work. The most amazing thing is that despite all the downs we all have amazing ups and even when we were at our lowest we all wanted to be together.

It’s quite a crazy ride, but we’re all getting closer every day, and I really do think that once we all get through this transition period and get past the extremely fast changes that are happening we will all be happy and solid together. We are all willing to put in the work and we all know it’s not going to be easy but it will be worth it.

Sickeningly Sweet (HNT)

These were taken less than an hour before we all went to the airport last time she was here. A lot has happened since.

three-way kiss

I think her latest post sums up quite a lot, and captures the excitement and fear we all are feeling for different reasons on her moving here. She will be here on Saturday the 4th indefinitely.

three-way kiss

She is making a wonderful sacrifice for us, leaving her family, friends, and life behind to come up here to Seattle to be with us, to start a new life. It’s not going to be easy, and we’re all apprehensive about what lies ahead while also being extremely excited to be together.

three-way kiss

I love them both so amazingly much. Every day brings her closer to us, and every day brings us all closer together in one way or another. We are all realizing past mistakes and committed to correcting them. We are dedicated and committed to each other, and that will get us farther than many.

The thing I’ve heard most from people when telling them about our relationship dynamic is that triads aren’t easy. This is undoubtedly true, though no relationship worth having is going to be easy. Throw in the fact that one partner has been thousands of miles away for the last six months and that just makes it that much more complicated. It hasn’t been easy, but it’s definitely been worth it.

As we creep closer to that wonderful moment when we will all be together again my excitement builds far faster than my fear. I know everything will work out, we’ve been through so much already that we know how committed we all are to the other. Living together will create new unique challenges and issues to work through but we will get through them together and be stronger because of it.

The Day & Parting: The End of the Beginning

holdinghands
from ArTeTeTrA

Chances are I’ll see you
Somewhere in my dreams tonight
You’ll be smiling like the night we met
Chances are I’ll hold you and I’ll offer
All I have”
-Chances Are

This is the fifth and final installment from my NYC/DC trip continued from The Beginning: New York City, The (Un)conference: Getting to D.C. & Sex 2.0, The Meeting: Kissing At Red Lights, and The First Night: Getting Down to Business. This is less chronological than the last few and more just what I remember.

We awoke after just a few hours, hungry for each others bodies again, first moving to snuggle before fucking. It was Sunday, which was also Mother’s Day so we both called our mothers and wished them well. I didn’t get ahold of mine right away, but my Dad called and I talked with him. I had mentioned to my parents about meeting Marla prior to our actual meeting and although I had never talked with either about my being polyamorous they were both completely unphased at the idea of me being involved with more than one person. I hadn’t really gone into any other detail.

After our daughterly duties were done I crawled back into the big fluffy white bed with her and we called Onyx, eager to hear his voice. Although he had said the night before that he wasn’t sure if he would be able to hear us fooling around on the phone I decided that he needed to because I knew how much he wanted to. I assumed his hesitance came from fear and potential pain, so I made sure he was included every step of the way.

I started rubbing Marla’s clit and inserted two fingers into her, making her tell Onyx what I was doing each time I changed something, calling her names and getting her hotter, letting him hear us both as I played with her. I soon inserted a third finger, and then a fourth, stretching her deliciously around my fingers, making her beg for more as I opened her up. Onyx was stroking his cock at this point while I was fucking her with my fingers and rubbing her clit with my other hand.

I remember she came like that, but I don’t remember how many times.

My thumb slid into her wet and open cunt so that I could press my hand further inside, all the while curling up and playing with her g-spot and rubbing her clit, driving her mad while Onyx listened and I took pleasure in making her writhe and come. I delighted in the feeling of her spongy slick walls gripping my hand as she got off on me pressing more and more of my hand into her, pulling out and doing it again, over and over, filling her up.

Once she was sated, I believe we listened to Onyx come over the phone as he stroked his cock for his two happily listening partners thousands of miles away. He grunted and groaned and we encouraged him as he got to the edge, asking him to come for us.

Then attentions were turned to me, though I protested a little because I hadn’t completely been able to come despite wanting to and also I was feeling a little insecure about coming with Marla while on the phone with Onyx, I was stupidly thinking that he would prefer to hear her be fucked than me. This way of thinking has since been cleared up, but it was present at the time.

I lay on my back and Marla began rubbing my clit and pressing her fingers into me, doing what I had done to her earlier, fucking me with her fingers while I sat back and took it. I told Onyx what she was doing so that he knew what was going on. I moaned and writhed as she fucked me so wonderfully, and despite my previous inability to I ended up coming while she fucked me with Onyx on the phone. It wasn’t as hard as any of us would have liked, but it definitely was an orgasm.

Onyx declared that he wanted more pictures, so we ended up taking a few for him and chatting until we decided we really needed to order something to eat. We decided on Thai food and after much roundaboutness and much distraction (read: fucking) we ended up getting it a few hours later. Sitting in bed we ate our food, Marla’s first introduction to Thai food, and made makeshift chopsticks out of coffee stirrers.

We lounged, fucked, talked with Onyx, twittered, and played Mafia Wars and My Zoo for the next few hours before as we got in touch with Jay and Ellie who were at Sex 2.0 and were staying a couple extra days after the conference to see the sights and such. We all decided to meet up to go swimming and just generally spend some time with each other.

Once we got more fucking, fooling around, and cuddling out of our system we finally got our suits on and headed to the pool waiting for Jay and Ellie to arrive. We had the desire to have some pool sex, but there was a lifeguard and other people around, but we did sneak in much fondling and groping under the water. Ellie and Jay arrived for the last 20 minutes or so of swimming, then we all headed back to our room to dry off, change, and chat.

After much great conversation about a wide range of topics they left and we were alone again and hungry! We called Onyx, ordered food, snuggled, and again ate it in bed. That night we were too damn tired to fuck again, which was pretty remarkable. We lay in bed cuddling and drifted to sleep in each others’ arms.

The next morning we awoke later than we would have liked, and after cuddling we immediately started packing and getting ready to go. We had to be out of the hotel by 11 but Marla did not have to head back home until about 1pm. I nearly cried while we were packing, knowing that we were going to part. After packing and hurrying out of the hotel we got to her car and headed to the same Thai restaurant we had delivered to us the day before.

We were both filled with sadness that we would have to part so soon and ate our meal sitting next to each other and often holding hands. There were moments tears filled my eyes and I wanted to cry for I was anticipating the missing of her and having to say goodbye.

Once we were finished we made our way to the Bolt Bus and said goodbye in her car. Many tears and hugs and kisses were exchanged, although I teared up I didn’t cry as hard as she did because I wanted to be strong for her and help her with the pain I had been struggling with for hours. It took us quite some time to actually part, preferring to linger in each others’ presence for as long as possible.

I watched her car until she was too far away to see, waving and sending my love with her for her long drive back home. We exchanged texts and calls while she was driving home and I was on the bus back to New York. I had a couple more days in New York after that, but quite literally all I did was sleep and see my sisters, recovering from the amazing weekend and lack of sleep. On Wednesday I made my way to JFK and headed back to Seattle.

The First Night: Getting Down To Business

fucking
Found via The Alexa Collection.

“It’s business time
You know when I’m down to my socks it’s time for business
That’s why they’re called business socks ooh”
-“Business Time” – Flight of the Conchords

“There’s nothin’ wrong
With me lovin’ you
Baby, no, no
And givin’ yourself to me can never be wrong
If the love is true”
-Let’s Get It On
(which has a special place in our relationship, as Jack Black’s version of it is all of our ringtones for each other)

This is the fourth installment from my NYC/DC trip continued from The Beginning: New York City, The (Un)conference: Getting to D.C. & Sex 2.0, and The Meeting: Kissing At Red Lights.

There are many aspects of our first time that are a blur, but I remember playing with her breasts quite a bit, licking and sucking on her nipples and flicking them with my fingers.

I remember her bra and shirt being taken off, then going for her cunt beneath her jeans, at which point she protested that she couldn’t get completely naked before I had even taken off anything. I chuckled and told her that wasn’t going to happen, she tried to get her hand under my skirt, I pulled away and continued to molest her until I acquiesced and took off my shirt and bra then slipped out of my skirt as she took her pants off.

Most else after that is a big happy endorphin-rushed blur. I remember when I first slid my hand across her cunt lips, felt her wetness, found her clit beneath my fingers and sunk my fingers into her. I can still see the way she writhed, how her body arched and shook as she came from a stimulation so simple as a thumb on her clit and two fingers inside her.

What amazed me the most was how casual it all felt, how right, how perfect. Nothing felt forced or unnatural, fucking her came as easy to me as breathing, and I wanted to do it as often as I breathed. There was no time with her that I did not want to push her down and enter her, feel her coming beneath me as I kissed her or played with her nipples.

Once I had fucked her and made her come a few times, she excitedly rolled me over and got out her Pure Wand so she could introduce me to it. All I can say is: holy fuck. I knew I needed a Pure Wand but I didn’t know how much I NEEDED a Pure Wand. It was both hot and amusing because the six steel rings through my inner labia kept jingling against the steel of the Pure Wand and she either started singing Jingle Bells or just alluded to it. See what I mean about comfortable?

I was having a hard time coming, which often happens to me. This was extremely frustrating for us both. I have since postulated that the more aroused I am the more difficult it is for me to come, which seems counter-intuitive but somehow seems to also be true. I take not being able to come as simply a sign that I was way too aroused for my own body to handle.

My inability to come combined with my intense desire to fuck her and make her come at any given time ended up meaning that she didn’t fuck me as much as I fucked her. I didn’t mind as much as she did, though, because I was mostly frustrated at my body and much preferred to spend my time exploring hers. This wasn’t really fair to her but I have promised she will have the chance to make it up to me this coming weekend.

Once we fucked sufficiently and were coming down we called Onyx immediately to see how he was doing and check in. He mentioned he wasn’t sure if he would be able to handle hearing us on the phone with each other, but there was much talking, many professions of love, and many Facebook games played (we are all addicted to Mafia Wars and My Zoo and couldn’t resist playing them during breaks in fucking).

We both had our Big Foot storage bags with us and we dumped them out on the bed, effectively covering half the bed with sex toys! While we didn’t use all of them we certainly got a lot of mileage out of most of them.

As Marla said in her post, “while time seemed to stop, my stomach did not,” once we could tear ourselves away from both fucking and talking with Onyx long enough to figure out what we wanted to eat it was already past 11 and most places were closed for delivery. Room service was out of the question due to expense so we ended up ordering a pizza, the only thing we could find so late for delivery, and after burning up many calories the best way possible and having not eaten since noon for me and earlier for her it was possibly the most delicious pizza I have had in quite some time.

We talked with Onyx again after pizza and got super tired, deciding that sleep was in order. We snuggled, eskimo kissed (which I do a lot and love to do), caressed, and eventually I started rubbing her cunt again until she came. I just couldn’t take my hands off of her!

At some point the blindfold came out and she instructed me to lay back because we were going to play a game: Guess That Dildo! It was quite fun, actually, though I still couldn’t come. She fucked me with dildo after dildo while she rubbed my clit, I rubbed my clit, I used Gigi on my clit, and while I was feeling it and definitely aroused it just didn’t happen. Needless to say we were both disappointed and frustrated.

The game did lead to me exclaiming “my cunt reads dildos like braille!” Which I was highly amused at saying, as I guessed every toy correctly except for Ella simply because I forgot that she had brought Ella with her. I think I fucked her again at this point, because if I wasn’t able to come at least one of us should, dammit! After that we turned off the lights, snuggled up, and joked and eskimo kissed our way to sleep.

Just as she said in her post, because I can’t think of a better way to say it: “Waking up next to her the next morning was the closest thing to perfection I have ever felt. Sunday is another post, for another day.”

The Meeting: Kissing At Red Lights

caresses
Found via The Alexa Collection, photographer unknown.

“I remember clearly how you looked
The night we met
I recall your laughter and your smile
I remember how you made me
Feel so at ease
I remember all your grace and style

And now you’re all I wanna see”
-Chances Are

Now that I’ve written about New York City and Sex 2.0 I feel I can get into what you really want to hear about: meeting Marla!

She already wrote about it a few weeks ago and said she wouldn’t write the second installment of her version of it until I got mine out, which gave me the push I needed. It’s not that I didn’t or don’t want to write about the amazing time we had together it’s just kind of painful to rehash all those memories because I miss her so much. However, she is going to be here on Friday so I really need to write up our time together before I see her again! Or so I think.

Like I said near the end of the last post…

I had been reading and responding to her tweets and texts of her getting closer and closer and knew she would arrive around 5:40 or so. Once the last session was over I said my goodbyes and zoomed up to my room to pack everything up. As I was packing she called me informing me of how close she was (her TomTom said less than a mile at that point, I think!) and suggested I pack things up, though I was already a step ahead of her. Once I was finished packing I went downstairs and waited for what felt like ages for her to show up.

Butterflies were overwhelming. I had asked her earlier what color her car was so every time a gold car passed by I would look to see if she was in it. I was so excited and so nervous I wasn’t even sure what to do when she got there! She drove up and parked in the little hotel pick-up/drop-off area in front of where I was standing, jumped out of the car and came rushing over to me.

I was grinning like an idiot at this point, I’m sure, and she threw her arms around me and tacklehugged me so fiercely I stumbled a little and thought I might actually fall over. This woke me up a bit out of my stupor and then we were kissing, and somehow we got to the car and put my stuff in after kissing more and me sliding my hand into her hair and tugging. She made the most wonderful sounds as I pulled her hair, which would continue through the weekend. I knew that we both were extremely nervous but that this was going to be amazing.

We started on our journey through D.C. to Virginia and our hotel. I had to tweet about meeting her and she did so too while we were making our way to the hotel. We quickly called Onyx so he could take part in our meeting and we all remarked on how strange it was for the situation to be reversed! We all were so used to Onyx and me on the phone with Marla and not Marla and me on the phone with Onyx.

After much conversation with Onyx, passing the Washington Monument on our way to Alexandria, VA, and a few failed attempts to kiss at red lights (damn seatbelt kept getting in my way) we made it to the hotel, did the check-in stuff, parked, and went up to the room. We had swimming, as well as food, and getting to know each other biblically *ahem* on the agenda but it took us a while to get to the first two.

I could tell when we got into the room that she was as nervous as I was, we set our stuff down and got comfortable, I plugged my computer in so we could look up restaurants in the area and whatever else two net-addicted people need to do. She was on her stomach and I sat beside her and began rubbing her shoulders, we were talking about… something, I don’t remember, probably her drive and if/when she had eaten. I leaned down and bit her shoulder, and things progressed from there…

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