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

Category: Smut Page 1 of 5

Driven to Distraction

I can’t get the image of you fucking me out of my head.

This isn’t just an image in the visual sense. When I think of it I can feel the ghost of the sensations you evoke within me across my body. My cunt clenches around the lack of you. My chest aches, missing the caresses and the pain from your fingers, lips, tongue, and teeth. My fingers curl, wanting to feel your skin beneath them, to hold you closer as your hips pump your hardness into me.

Why is it that every time we fuck it just makes me want to experience your hardness inside of me again? My nipples are sore and aching today because of you, not surprisingly. I have a few bruises on my thigh and one where your teeth dug down deep into the flesh of my breast.

I want you.

Jack Off

It wasn’t sexy or elaborate. Really it was downright mechanistic ((a fabulous old post from Ellie Lumpesse, read it if you have not before!)). It had been a while since I had rubbed one out alone and the fast-paced lives Onyx and I have been living lately haven’t lent themselves to as much sex as either of us would like. It was time to remedy this situation.

I didn’t even move the pile of freshly washed clothes from on top of the bed, just nudged them aside so I could lay down ((I have more in the washer and dryer, I will put them all up at the same time. What? Don’t judge me.)). I grabbed my Eroscillator, pushed aside my underwear, added a little lube, and arranged it to just the right spot. It had actually been a while since I’d gotten off with it, my Wahl has had preferential treatment as of late with its amazingly deep and strong rumbly vibrations. I had almost forgotten how much I love my Eroscillator, but tonight I was reminded.

While the Eroscillator has nothing on the Wahl as far as the bang you get for your buck (($12.49 on Amazon! Seriously! Go get one now! I thought this was such a good deal I even bought one for my best friend for no reason other than it is wicked cheap and she needs one.)) I forgot just how deep and different the oscillations are from normal vibrators. It still produces a different kind of orgasm than any other toy, one I can’t put into words even though I’ve been trying to finish this sentence for ten minutes.

Though I had contemplated my Eleven or Pure Wand, my go-to dildos, I decided to forgo the internal stimulation. It wasn’t needed when the goal was release but not effort or sexy intricate fantasy. It still wasn’t many orgasms until I felt the need to squirt all over the bed.

Yes, many orgasms. When I come I can’t just stop at one, I’ve never really been able to. Onyx has tried to stop me after one and discovered just how irritating I can be when not fully sated. Although I suppose that implies that I am ever fully satiated and I’m not sure that can be said. There are times when I am exhausted, finished, and needing a break, but sated? Those are usually the same times that my clit burns ((not from the chemicals in the lube, just from wonderful overstimulation!)) as if to say “I NEED MORE.” There is often a point where I am unable to deliver or even come anymore but I wouldn’t call this sated.

I contemplated squirting for only a few seconds before dismissing it. I didn’t have my Throe under me and I wasn’t about to ejaculate all over the clothes I had just washed. Plus, this was mechanistic so the effort to get it and position it just right before coming again so I could ejaculate just seemed like too much work. Although even now as I write this I can feel that delightful pressure inside of me telling me to release it, a sensation I used to compare to needing to pee but now I know the difference.

So I came and held myself back from squirting, which in and of itself made the experience slightly less satisfying. How many times I came I don’t know. I always used to lose count after three so now I don’t even attempt anymore. There’s probably an app for that ((Orgasm Counter for the iPhone?–or not, since Apple is all anti-sex apps, but it sounded good anyway)). I stopped, even though my clit was screaming at me to keep going, and stumbled out of the bedroom in a post-orgasmic daze.

Lights, Camera…

Not too long ago near the beginning of this month I answered a post in the Seattle Area Personal Ads group on FetLife (login required) for a project titled Process of Pain for Raise Your Fist Productions. It explores masochism, giving a taste of what pain is, what masochists and sadists love about pain, how we play, and other various things. I was very interested in doing this and Onyx agreed to be part of it as well, as a part of being in the documentary was agreeing to do a scene on camera.

Last Monday Amanda came over and we shot a breast play scene. Onyx pulled and twisted my nipples, slapped my breasts, pulled my hair, slapped my face, and made me come on camera. He also used crops, a cane, and nipple clamps on me. It wasn’t a super heavy scene, though there was a good amount of pain, and we didn’t fuck on camera but I did come multiple times. Amanda said she got some very nice shots. She’s filming other couples for this as well and I’m sure I will post about it again when it is done. I’m very excited to see the finished result.

It’s brought up a lot of interesting things for me, as I’ve always loved porn and for a long time I’ve had a fantasy about doing it, though I’ve not always had the body-confidence that I have gained over the last few years. I’ve been seriously considering exploring phone sex work again in the last couple months, I made a couple NiteFlirt accounts but have not yet utilized them to their full potential, and now after this experience I’m seriously considering getting into ethical queer pornography as well.

I say ethical queer pornography because that’s the only type I would be willing to do. This documentary was a great first step, I think, it proved to me that it was something I could do on camera, and I enjoyed doing so. I have a lot of theatre background and have been on stage and in front of the camera many times so I always kind of new I would be able to do it, but there was always some doubt. Now that doubt is gone.

I’ve also recently been reconnecting with my Goddess Babalon after a slight deviation from her path and I believe that getting in to sex work and pornography would be a great act of devotion to her. She was part of the reason I started exploring phone sex work two years ago as well.

Since filming I came across this quote while reading Demons of the Flesh: The Complete Guide to Left-Hand Path Sex Magic for the Sacred Sexuality Book Club Onyx and I are hosting at our place which first met today.

“The moral pornographer would be an artist who uses pornographic material as a part of the acceptance of the logic of a world of absolute sexual license for all the genders, and projects a model of the way such a world might work. His business would be the total demystification of the flesh and the subsequent revelation, through the infinite modulations of the sexual act… the pornographer has it in his power to become a terrorist of the imagination, a sexual guerilla whose purpose is to overturn our most basic notions of these relations, to reinstate sexuality as a primary mode of being rather than a specialized area of vacation from being and to show that the everyday meetings in the marriage bed are parodies of their own pretensions. –Angela Carter

Helpless

He straddles my waist where I lay and pins my arms against me. I’m still able to squirm but know that even if I tried to get free it would be difficult. Not that I want to try. I look up at him, helpless beneath him, and he just grins and slaps first my left cheek and then my right. I whimper my false protests as my cheeks turn rosy red and sting from the impact.

The same hand connects with each of my breasts in turn. I squirm and try to cover them but am unable to free my arms. He likes me like this: helpless, unable to stop his ravaging of my body as he chooses. I like me like this: helpless, without the ability to move or cover myself, knowing my protests will not stop him.

A few more slaps and he moves to unzip his pants, not bothering to take off his clothes or my own as he rises up a bit. He shifts enough to let my hungry mouth find his cock, or for him to shove it into my mouth. They both happen simultaneously. I try to move my head as best as I am able but for the most part he is just fucking my face. Yet he’s not just fucking my face, he’s telling me through his actions that I am his for the taking, and I’m lapping it up.

It doesn’t take him long to lean against the wall behind my head and really start moving his hips up and down, his cock gliding in and out of my wet mouth.

Occasionally as he fucks my face he presses all the way in until his balls hit my chin and I have difficulty breathing. Sometimes he pinches my nose shut when he does this. I fight my gag reflex for as long as possible before my throat contracts around his cockhead in the way I know he enjoys. I gag once and then twice at the minimum before he lets me breathe again.

He’s usually gracious and gives me a few breaths to recover with after gagging. I sometimes cough or sputter but always move my mouth toward his cock soon after, taking the initiative in a way even as I’m still trapped beneath him. Most often he will utilize this moment by slapping my face, or playing with my breasts or nipples.

Sometimes he will come in my mouth like this, but this time he moves down between my legs which spread easily for him and he slips his cock into my cunt, made wet from his rough treatment. My throat lets out a moan as I move to meet his thrust as best I can. He takes me effortlessly, occasionally grunting his own pleasure but mostly staying silent as my own sounds fill the air.

We move together for what seems like forever, I clench myself around him as he drives in and out of my wet cunt. I am able to hear my wetness with every movement, the realization of which makes me blush internally, my face already flushed from the activity. He moves my legs so they are up straight against him, my feet on his shoulders, changing the angle so his cockhead hits my g-spot perfectly. My moans change and hands start gripping the wall behind me for support.

Suddenly he pulls out and pushes my legs to the side, guiding me onto my knees. I catch a glimpse of his face which is devoid of expressive emotion. He is at once distant from me and present with me. He is treating me like his fucktoy and I am more than happy to receive it. I quickly move into the right position, backing my hips up against him until his hardness slips inside me again and he continues fucking me with renewed fervor.

I am in heaven for the next few minutes as his cock continues to stimulate my g-spot, the familiar feeling welling up in me, so akin to needing to pee yet not the same at all. I brace myself against the wall again as his movements become even more demanding, shoving my body forward with each thrust. I let my body move with the force of him while also pushing back. His hands are on my hips both to stabilize himself and to guide my movements, a constant reminder of his control.

He starts grunting even more, almost growling as he nears his orgasm, focused on taking his pleasure out on me, letting me feel the depth of his lust for me as I absorb it all into my being.

I am His in this moment, completely and utterly.

Soon he lets out a loud growl as he begins to come. I can feel him exploding in me and make sure to squeeze my cunt muscles tight around him, my feet move to hook around his shins as he kneels behind me, a small gesture.

Once movement stops we both pant for breath and he rolls us over onto our sides. Our clothes still separate our flesh from each other in most places. I can feel the roughness of his jeans against my ass.

Spooning, he wraps an arm around me, the other serving as my pillow. My hand entwines with his and my legs slip between his. My ankles rest on his shins. I am enveloped by him even as he is still enveloped by me. I am again trapped by his limbs, this time helpless against the love and comfort he provides.

30 Days of Kink: Fantasy

This is the sixth of my 30 Days of Kink in which I will be answering each of the thirty questions in different posts. I thought these would be interesting to answer and (hopefully) interesting for you to read. These will be posted in order, but not always back-to-back. Technically I published seven before six but… oh well.

Day 6: Describe your weirdest/most interesting sexual fantasy.

I’m in a fortunate position where just about all of my fantasies are able to come true relatively quickly. I don’t have to wait too long between a fantasy striking me and being able to play it out, assuming it does not require multiple partners or some implement or another which we don’t have. Most of my fantasies, however, revolve around things that we do on a regular basis, because those are what really get me hot, pretty much everything on my kinks list. Onyx and I are remarkably well matched and seem to just be getting more and more so as time goes on. This pleases me.

There are quite a few things I want to try that I haven’t, but for the most part I don’t really fantasize about them I just want to do them. I used to fantasize about being in the type of situation that I’m in now: pretty solid power roles with the ability for switchyness and bratting within it when desired. I can honestly say this time around with Onyx is pretty damn perfect.

To not cop out of the question, though, there are some fantasies that Onyx and I often dirty talk about while fucking. Mostly they revolve around the inclusion of others of any sex/gender. Probably the most common that we talk about is the idea of orchestrating a gang bang for me. We both love the idea of me being used constantly to utter exhaustion by numerous others.

I always have the idea of a single mattress on a concrete floor, chairs set around it in a circle in case the participants get tired, that sort of thing. It’s a bit of a clichéd setting for a gang bang scenario and probably in my mind because when I first read about them they were usually gang rape scenarios (as I’ve mentioned I started reading non-consent erotica before reading bdsm-themed erotica).

Onyx would be there to participate, watch, and direct as needed, making sure my safety was always taken into consideration and that I was alright. I would be used over and over and made to come until I reached a point of exhaustion. I would be slapped and pinched and teased and all manner else that was desired to be done to me and I would love every minute of it.

I can say we are taking steps toward making this happen, but in a slow way, we don’t want to rush into anything with people we don’t know very well, but someday it will happen.

Wavelengths

My mother has been visiting for the last little over a week. She’s been staying in the living room of our tiny one bedroom apartment which means Onyx and I really have only had sex once in the last little over a week. I would say this is quite less than usual, though our number and frequency varies from time to time depending on how busy we are etc. Last night especially I was ready to about jump him, however. Today she is heading East to visit family over there. A text message exchange from earlier today:

Onyx: Is your mom heading to PA today?

Me: I believe she is, she hasn’t left quite yet. I would very much like some rough sex when she is gone. ;D

Onyx: I was just thinking about slappin’ you around a bit.

Me: Excellent. I love when we are on the same wavelength! :D

The minute she was gone I went into our bedroom where he was taking a nap and proceeded to wake him up with kisses and a blowjob, or facefucking, whichever you would prefer to call it. That is, I started the action but he quickly took over leading the movements of my head with his hands usually via my hair and including the occasional slap on the cheek. After a bit of this he quickly guided me over and down onto my stomach and pressed my head and chest into the bed, easily sliding into me and pinning me down as he began to fuck me. Needless to say, I was happy.

His hands played with my head a little: he pulled my hair, he slapped my cheeks, he slipped his fingers into either side of my mouth and held my mouth open, he covered my mouth and nose so I couldn’t breathe. All of this while continuing to pound into me as I lay trapped beneath him, as I moaned and tried to thrust back with my hips as best as possible–though that wasn’t too possible. He then took each of my wrists and brought them behind my back, pressing down again to keep me against the bed and fucking me with extra vigor until he came inside of me.

We lay there, both working on catching our breath before rolling over, snuggling, kissing, exchanging “I love you”s. Soon his fingers were on my clit with his other hand in my hair. We kissed and I panted and squealed and moaned my way to four or so most delicious orgasms culminating in the strongest one last. I’ve just about gotten this coming on command thing down, though that’s another post.

Casual Sexuality

Since I’ve been back from Juneau my number of sex partners has increased by four. This may not seem like a lot, but it’s about a thirty-three percent increase from my previous number (assuming I’m doing my math correctly). The small amount of casual sex I had before Onyx and I got together was minimal and done so out of a place of loneliness and depression, but this has been done out of a place of joy and openness. Even so I’m not having the best time with it.

Two of the four new partners were spur-of-the-moment one-time deals, people I didn’t really know and knew there wouldn’t be much chance of anything further developing. For one of the two I thought maybe there would be the possibility, but that was quickly nullified. Neither of these are sitting well with me.

The other two are a couple, I’ve written about them before. They are friends, continue to be friends, and the possibility for more fun is there. There is no awkwardness or uncomfortability, it’s just the way it is. I have no problems with this.

I have always been drawn to the idea of having casual play with friends and I’ve often fetishized the idea of sex with anonymous strangers, but the reality of the latter is not sitting as well with me.

I’m more than a little bummed that of the four sex partners three are male and one is female, but I also find that I tend to be more romantically interested in females and physically interested in males, that’s just how I’ve always been. I enjoy sex with everyone, don’t get me wrong, and I’m generally more physically attracted to females and transpeople than males but I’m also far more timid and reserved when I’m actually interested in someone.

While, as I mentioned, I’ve had some casual sexual encounters before pre-Onyx they were few and far between and usually circumstances of the internet and not really all that satisfying. These new experiences were all enjoyable but have left me unsettled. At the same time I’m drawn to the idea of the casual hook-up. Of the two one-time-only encounters one has turned out well and the other is a little awkward, and I do wonder if the awkward one were to be defeated perhaps that would put a better light on the entirety of casual hook-up-ness.

This is still a work in progress, so perhaps simply more research is needed before I can have a fully formed opinion.

Want Perpetuates Want

ABY101209e by jvrsta

There are times when I can’t escape from want. Want perpetuates want until all I can think of is taking or being taken. Lately it’s been the latter. The most mundane movements crackle with the electricity of my desire for it. With each moment want increases exponentially until it consumes my entire being and I feel my body begin to sing with it, unsure if anyone else can sense the desires within me threatening to explode.

Every movement of my lips makes me think of cool steel being placed between them, forcing them open a little to wide, almost painfully, after not too long my jaw beginning to ache. My mouth open and available for use or just for amusement as I am unable to contain the spit dribbling out onto my breasts. Or I think of a hand covering my mouth, pinching my nose shut, controlling my breath and stealing my air, not letting me breathe for just a little longer than I think I can handle before releasing and letting me gulp for it, even my most essential of functions controlled.

My fingers lift up to absently run through my hair and suddenly I can think of nothing else but a hand gripping and pulling on the short purple mess, making my scalp burn. My head tingles with want and later, when I am alone, I will allow my digits to curl around those locks and tug, although the feeling is nothing like when the fingers aren’t mine.

Using my hands to gesticulate or type or simply any movement in which I become aware of them makes my wrists ache for want of the bite of rope or cuffs lining them. The bracelets I always wear feel heavy with my own perception as the pressure they place increases the want, and awareness of my wrists makes my attention also focus on my ankles. I want to be bound, helpless, enveloped by the power of my partner and trapped in that moment where all I can fixate on is the sensation. Maybe blindfolded, maybe not, but unable to see what is coming next and my entire body alive with anticipation.

Every time I shift my attention is brought first to my ass and then to my cunt, the attention itself enough to make my lips tingle and grow with want. I know that were I to sneak a finger into my core I would feel the hot wetness that is even now creeping out onto my underwear. I would feel my vulva puffy with want of use, my holes craving to be taken.

My ass, on the other hand, tingles with a different kind of want, aching for the smart sting of a cane, hoping to be bruised this time as bruising does not come easily. I want a hand, a flogger, a cane, anything that will make me quiver with desire and make my cunt that much more overtaken with want. I would close my eyes and imagine the pattern the glowing lines are making, imagine the perfectly lined angry and raised red marks against my pale skin.

I want the continual moments of perpetuation of desire to last forever, hanging in a state of anticipation that my mind or my partner has created. I want everything in those moments, my entire being overtaken with want and desire to be taken to a different state of mind. Power is a drug and I am an addict, but I will happily drown in my addiction so I may feel the want again and again. With a good partner our addiction feeds each other, my discomfort is our pleasure, my pain our high, the power exchange our masterpiece.

Over the Weekend

This weekend was, in a word, amazing. Lots of sex, new friends, Tristan Taormino, and our first foursome. Though not in that order.

Wait, though, I need to back up a bit.

While I was in Juneau Onyx met Terra and her husband Storax. Onyx and Terra were attracted to each other and began talking, flirting, getting to know each other, and playing with the idea of more. I was hesitant to endorse this potential new relationship as the triad was so fresh a wound but I was also determined not to hinder Onyx if that was what he wanted to do. After some talk and a lot of overanalization that I do so well and acceptance that this was my own shit that didn’t need to hinder Onyx from exploring this new attraction, I became more and more okay with it.

When he told me they had done things together I reacted in a way I didn’t expect. I expected to have a pang of jealousy, insecurity, envy, anything, but instead I didn’t feel anything like that. I can’t say I was completely to compersion as I can’t say I experienced joy because of it happening, but I didn’t feel negatively about it, which actually confused me. I had felt negatively previously when he first brought the possibility up so I expected to feel that again, but it simply wasn’t there. It was strange, honestly, but really nice.

On Friday Terra came over for a few hours and we pretty much hit it off. We three talked, I showed her my sex toy collection, we all flirted and, eventually, kissed. She left with a play date scheduled for Sunday when she and Storax would come over and we could see if things progressed further between her and I, or basically just see what would happen.

That night Onyx and I were up late. I’m still sore, actually. We talked about the possibilities that Sunday might bring which just added to the usual high level of lust that has become the norm between us again.

Saturday was spent recovering, mostly. We cuddled and kissed while we watched shows, ate, enjoyed each other’s company, and fucked. We’ve both become quite into him slapping me in the face or tits and pinching and twisting my nipples hard.

Sunday we got up early to finish some things we had not gotten to the night before. I had been wanting to do a batch of dishwasher dildos for a while, by which I mean sterilizing my sterilizeable toys by running them through the dishwasher on the top rack with no soap, and so I did while we did some general cleaning up, showered, got ready, and so forth.

They brought coffee and we all sat around talking for a while, further getting to know each other. We put on some porn, Storax and I were scratching Terra’s back which progressed into some groping and kissing before determining it would be best to move into the bedroom. Once there we all began gentle exploration and a good four hours or so was spent in such blissful fun that I only remember it in fragments, snapshots.

The three of us using various implements to smack Terra’s ass. Terra and Storax remarking about my cunt piercings. Onyx’s fingers on my nipples, Terra’s tongue on my clit, Storax sucking my toes (which I never thought I would enjoy, but I did). Terra coming around my fingers as my tongue flicked against her clit, Onyx’s cock in her mouth, Storax’s fingers in my ass. Terra sucking Onyx’s cock as I licked his balls. Onyx helping me suck Storax’s cock. Using an enema syringe for the first time. Onyx coming as he stroked himself, Terra licked his balls and fingering his ass, Storax’s cock in my ass (that happened a lot). Storax coming in Terra’s mouth as Onyx and I watched and I softly sucked Onyx’s spent cock.

Lots of kissing. Lots of anal for everyone. Lots of grinning. Lots of groping. Lots of check-ins, both verbal and non-verbal between pretty much everyone, everyone making sure everyone else was having fun and enjoying themselves. Lots of breaks for whatever we needed, but the ease of sliding back into play when those needs were satiated.

It was beyond wonderful. It was so different from our threesome experience, it was all about fun, play, and making sure everyone was having a good time without obsessing about it. There was no jealousy or negative feelings, things were taken slow in some areas, especially where Storax and I were concerned, and he was extremely good about asking me if I was alright with him doing something before he did it, especially since we had not talked about it at all before things happened.

I was a little reserved, apprehensive, unsure of how much to assert myself, unsure of what I should or should not do at times, but also wanting to just sit back and see what the others wanted to do. I was happy to relax and let things progress as they all wanted, especially knowing that this is likely to happen again.

As evening rolled around we all rinsed off, dressed, and Onyx and I got ready to go to Tristan Taormino’s workshop on “Making Open Relationships Work,” which seemed like a fitting end to a lovely day. Although we lamented having to stop the fun we were all having, but were reminded that Terra and Storax live here, unlike Tristan, and they both had no qualms with emphatically assuring us this would be able to happen again.

After the workshop (for that itself is a separate post) we came home, relaxed, and went to bed exhausted. Fortunately the excitement of the weekend was enough to encourage another hot and intense rough fucking session complete with multiple orgasms for me. The weekend ended in cuddles while Onyx drifted off to sleep.

Breathe and Let Go


via Squall Leonhartt cropped by me for use in this post

I feel his hand cover my mouth and know what is about to come. Taking a deep breath through my nose quickly before he pinches that shut, my eyes fly open to look into his as he looms above me. My hands are at my sides, gripping at the sheet beneath me, trying to hold on for as long as possible as he pauses his movements inside of me, his cock buried in me, my legs splayed open wantonly aside his hips, my feet curling up around his waist.

I close my eyes again and embrace the sensations flooding me. The pressure of his flesh sunk deep within me reminds me I am his to be used. His hand covering my mouth and fingers holding my nose closed remind me I am his to be played with. I feel my head become lighter with lack of oxygen, my lungs start to strain for anything they can get and, so denied, begin to burn with the desire for air.

My hands come up toward his arm without thinking, my eyes open again to look at him, but I stop myself from tapping out, wanting to withstand the torture for as long as possible before wordlessly asking him to stop. Once I do ask he will wait for just a few moments longer before giving me back the breath that he has stolen.

I feel my lungs tightening and straining more fiercely now, my head becoming dizzy, my thoughts fuzzy, and my movements slightly weakening. My body is screaming with the need to fight or flight, but I am calming it as much as possible as I endure his control over my breathing.

I tap his arm once and then again and again as forcefully as I can muster, the next few moments seem to drag on as he takes his time releasing me from his grasp.

I breathe.

My lungs are full again, and in breathing my mind clouds even more. I am sunk down into deeper submission as the feeling of his control and my vulnerability washes over me. I roll my head to the side just slightly. His movements resume, hard, forceful, pressing me into the mattress as he takes my cunt and moves my ankles to his shoulders.

I respond autonomically, my hands resume their place gripping the sheet and my moans and whimpers escape my throat without any coercion or thought on my part. He draws the responses from me with his movements, his hands now at my breasts to arouse me further, playing with and pulling my nipples.

My mind is blank other than the sensations he is causing in me and I cry out softly as his hand now impacts with my left cheek, my face burning from the slap, both cheeks reddening as I recognize my enjoyment of being treated so roughly. His hand that just slapped me moves again to cover my mouth, and I take a deep breath through my nose quickly before he pinches that shut.

Though I’m not referencing any direct incident in this scene it is one that has happened many times, especially when Onyx was up visiting. While writing it I had the most interesting physical reactions to the scenario, not becoming aroused ((though I most certainly did become aroused while writing this)) but also feeling the burning in my lungs and lightheadedness that accompanies this type of play.

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