Restrained and Released

A few weeks back, I did some more online shopping and bought stuff specifically for The Boyfriend. Namely, two different types of masturbators. I also got an under-the-bed restraint system.

I always think we’re going to use the stuff the same day it arrives, but it normally ends up sitting in the box for a few weeks without even a thought given to it, before we finally open it up and look at it.

We had experimented with the masturbators already, but I decided that last night, I was setting up that restraint system, with or without his pre-approval. And so, after a good long almost two-hour bath, I decided to set this thing up. It took me about two seconds and being that I wasn’t betting on it’s use, I just kinda slid it under the mattress and left it there.

Even though The Boyfriend had now been up for almost 36 hours, I was determined we were having sex. After three weeks of riding the red wave, I was finally not bleeding and all I could think about was finally having something other than a solitary mastrubatory orgasm. And he was excited to oblige, which I wasn’t expecting and added to the anticipation.

We stayed up way later than we were expecting to. I mean, the kids didn’t go to bed until almost one in the morning, so it was way late. And I don’t know how he managed, other than a great deal of determination and for that I am thankful.

It started on the couch after we had both taken baths separately. I had gone first and then when he was up in his bath, I played games. When he was done, he had me keep playing while he did some playing of his own. As zombies attacked me and I smashed cars into tree after tree after tree, his fingers playfully roamed my freshly shaved flesh. About half an hour or so passed before we finally made our way upstairs.

Almost immediately, he was putting the restraints to use. He laid me on my back and roughly grabbed my left leg, yanking it up above my head and securing the velcro on the first strap. Then, he gently lifted my right leg and kissed my ankles as he strapped the next restraint onto me. I told him that he could tighten it by pulling “this” strap, I signaled with my chin. He smiled and pulled on the straps, my feet now touching the wall behind my head.

He sat back for a minute and admired his work. I delighted in this probably more than anything else. His hands went from around my ankles, where the straps were, to slowly make their way down the back of my legs, across the fold of my knee, up my thighs and resting nicely on my ass at the end. He smiled at me, this mischievous look in his eyes, and I could tell he was debating about his next move.

He grabbed my hands and strapped them into the cuffs at the bottom of the bed and tightened them a little bit. He raised up his hand and brought it down quickly on the left side of my ass, hitting the best spot possible. He did again on the other side and followed it quickly with soft kisses – and his facial hair set my body on fire. I shivered violently as he kissed the tip of my clit.

He just gently rubbed the tip of his cock against my wet slit and I knew he was ready for penetration. “Go slow, because I think it’s going to hurt” and he went really slow. The way that felt… I could feel every single little bump and ridge of his cock perfectly and I cooed at all the different sensations.

I’m a pretty flexible person for the most part. It’s not very often that we struggle to get me into all sorts of crazy positions. But with my feet above my head and my hands stretched below my ass, it felt like the angle he was going in at was much more intense than normal – as if he was filling every piece of available space. He was also leaning more back on his heels, so that right there always changes the way it feels.

He was obviously enjoying the show and I was obviously enjoying that. And when he pulled himself almost all the way out and raised his hand, we both exchanged devious smiles as he quickly brought his hand down onto that delicate area where ass meets thigh. I pulled against all four restraints and said, “My body…”, and he engulfed me, putting his hands in my hair and showering my cheeks, forehead, neck and ears with lingering kisses. His hands caressed down my sides, taking in the curve of my breasts with his weight bared upon them, and the fold of my hip from my bent up legs, and ran his fingers over my wetness and around his girth.

I relaxed back, the cool breeze from our open window hitting the line of sweat that had formed across my forehead, and he lifted off of me and played in the wetness between my legs. His fingers kept traveling further and further back and when he pulled out of me, I knew he was going to try for anal. If I wasn’t already absolutely sure of it, the succession of two or three good whacks on the ass and the rubbing of copious amounts of precum right on the entrance point were damn sure signs.

He moved his head around the straps now dangling in my face and kissed me hard. I reached my hands to my ass and gently pulled at my cheeks, hoping to make the interaction easier than it has been of late. Slowly, he eased his way in. He asked, “Are you okay?” and I nodded fervently. He whispered, “Good girl”, as he ran a finger over my temple and up through my hair. He pushed just a little bit harder and I gasped, “Wait!”. He stopped dead and waited for my next move.

I groped with my hands and he released the right one – my clit rubbing hand. I reached between my legs and felt around at what was happening and he sat completely still waiting for me. I tried to make it feel wetter, easier somehow. But he felt so massive, so unbearable. I tried rocking against him a little bit, relaxing onto him. But I felt so small, so breakable.

I said, “I can’t…”, defeated. He bent over and kissed me hard, “Such a good girl”, and I slowly guided him out of me. I commented right then and there that I did not realize how deep he was and I could not believe that I chickened out right then and there. He paid no attention and put his tongue to work on my still wet pussy.

My toes had begun to tingle. I wriggled them for a good five minutes, not wanting to released. One final slap on my ass was all I could handle, and as I pulled hard against the cuffs, I asked him to let my legs down. He did this part so sensually. He pulled slowly at the velcro strap, and was careful to not let my leg just fall or bounce down. He kissed all the way around my ankle where the strap had been left and gently set my leg down on the bed beside him, rubbing his fingers back up over it. The same on the other side and I immediately wrapped them around him, pulling him in tight for a good long mid-sex session hug.

We took a five minute drink break and I don’t think any drink has ever been so refreshing.

I had been fantasizing all day about taking his reversible masturbator and putting it on him and then sitting on him facing away from him, so that he could see the masturbator/penis/pussy combo. I decided now would be the perfect time.

The masturbator was a bit stubborn to put on, but we had anticipated that from a previous session with it. Once it was securely in place, I eagerly crawled on top of him and he was excited about the position (as he always in anytime I’m on top). He had the smooth side of the masturbator against him and the nubby side was sticking out. Man, were those nubbies ever noticeable at first, and almost not in a good way. It took quite awhile of going back and forth on them for them to start feeling anything less than weird and then, almost as soon as I got to that point, I got to the point of not being able to feel them at all. I could feel the veins in his cock better than I could the nubs on the toy.

He had had enough of the feeling of the masturbator. I have no idea how it felt for him, but he was ready for the real fucking of the night to begin. He was ready for orgasms.

He laid me on my back and swiftly penetrated me, hard and deep, his hands roughly on my shoulders pushing me down onto him. He told me to cum on his cock and I manically worked on my clit as he thrust hard into me. I came quickly and he said, “Now onto the next one!”. He pulled my legs this way and that, adjusting for deeper penetration and then easing up and going hard again, varying his speed, depth, angles, and rhythm. I continued circling my clit frantically.

I told him I was close and he thrust harder and faster. At the exact same moment, we both grunted out, “I’m cumming!” and my orgasm seemed to suspend itself on the pulses of his orgasm. I could literally feel his every drop deep within me. His orgasm finished and I immediately went to work on finishing that suspended orgasm. I felt like I had had my second but like I wasn’t done at all.

I’ve never worked harder to make something happen faster in my life!

He gently rocked his softening cock inside of me and his hands freely explored every exposed piece of flesh. The breeze brushed my nipples and the sweat in my hair made me shiver. His hands gathered up both my breasts and as I erupted into a blissful orgasm, he lowered his lips to mine and we kissed passionately as I quaked beneath him.

I sprawled out beneath him and he laid on me, putting his ear right next to my lips. Our hearts slowed, our breathing synced and his hand gently pushed my hair back away from my face. One last long kiss and an “I love you” was exchanged, before he gently rolled off of me.

I rolled onto my side and he wrapped his hand tight around me, his arm between my breasts, our bare bodies snuggled tight against one another. He kissed my shoulder, “Have a good sleep”. Next thing I knew, it was dinnertime the next day.

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The Perfunctory Blowjob

I always forget that my sexuality isn’t the everyday normal sexuality. I always forget that not every girl loves to give blowjobs and not every girl loves to swallow. I always forget that mine is a rare breed.

I’m not your average cock sucker, this is true. If we were into labeling around here (which we’re not), I would be considered a cock worshipper. And while I really totally and truly am, I hate calling myself that. I would like to think that it wouldn’t matter what genitalia it was in front of me, that I would worship it regardless. Because I believe so strongly that these phalluses and vulvas and all the goodness that spans the spectrums deserves to be worshipped.

I can’t speak for cunnilingus, because I’ve never had the pleasure of sitting down to that meal, and so I unfortunately can’t help but only qualify as a cock worshipper.

And I really am.

As a good cock worshipper would say, “J’adore le phallus” – and I really and truly do. I always have. From the first time my eyes ever laid on a cock, I have been utterly and hopelessly fascinated by and drawn to cock. And from the first time I ever tasted the sweet precum and the bitter orgasm, I have loved every single drop. The veins, the pulsing, the ridges, the smell, the taste, the feel – everything!

Oral sex is one of my most favorite things to do and I am always surprised at how absolutely aroused the act of giving head makes me. I willingly and passionately give blowjobs as often as I can because for me, it’s a chance to show off some of my serious skills – and I’d like to think I have a lot.

I’ve never given a blowjob that ended in anything less than, “That was the best I’ve ever had” and I’ve even gotten guys off who have claimed that they couldn’t cum from oral. I don’t just jump into sucking a guy off and just carry on my merry little way as if he’s detached from his organ.

No, I take my time.

I feel like I learn everything there is to know about a man during that sensual act of exploring his shaft with my tongue, lips, throat. I learn his insecurities and his ego, I learn his fears and his regrets, I learn his pleasure and his release. I learn about the deepest parts of him, the parts he wasn’t even aware of, as I caress and fondle him. It’s more intimate than sex in a lot of ways, because it’s the one rare time where I am in absolute control.

And, of course, I am always in control of everything, but it’s different in this situation. I can’t exactly describe how it’s different. It feels different and affects you differently. There are rare circumstances, in relationships such as mine, where the bread-winning male seems to be more vulnerable than the stay-at-home mom. But when his cock is between my lips, I feel like I own the world and he is small. And that is a control that is rarely felt.

I never suck a cock with the thought of his orgasm in my head. I never think, “I’m sucking this so that it will cum”, because I’m not. I’m not just performing some act to get him off. Because it doesn’t just do that. I mean, it does do that, but it doesn’t just do that. I think of it as his total and utter release, just as my orgasm (the good ones) do for me.

When all the pressures of society and family life, work and bills, all disappear. When the negative thoughts that bombard your brain about your failures, your mistakes or that one thing you forgot to do, melt away and become distant memories. When, for a single second in time, the only thing you are aware of is the pounding in your chest and drop of sweat dripping between your breasts.

It’s not about the orgasm. It’s about that release.

I want him to be able to feel that. To know that that is what the goal and mission is. Not for him to explode his spunk everywhere, but for him to release his problems onto me. Let me carry the world for a moment.

And obviously, this is all figurative. The load is really his spunk, and the release is ultimately his orgasm. But for me, it’s so much deeper, so much more than that. And so the perfunctory blowjob, now becomes an artful and sensual experience that connects us deeper and more intimately.

It’s rare to find a guy who can think of it that way. For most, it is the perfunctory blowjob. But that doesn’t take away from the intimacy I feel from it. It doesn’t take away from the way I feel about the whole thing. To me, it has always and will always be a more profound and deep way for me to know and understand a man.

And I’m sure I would say that, again, regardless of gender. But I can only speak from experience (oh, how I wish it wasn’t so…).

I always forget that that’s not the way it is for everyone…

Finally, That Moment…

After two weeks and a period that ended up starting later than expected, I finally got to have not one, not two, but three orgasms and a whole lot of sex that I am now going to commence bragging about.

We basically knew we were going to have sex. We had gone shopping for all sorts of body cleaning supplies, we knew were all the clean clothes were and we made time to ensure that both of us took our necessary showers/baths. We could’ve and normally would’ve just showered together but it had been a bit since I had last shaved, so it was time for a really good clean up and that is something I prefer to do in a bath. So, he showered and I took a beautifully blissful bath in which I read another little hunk of Manifesta.

After my bath, we immediately went to our room. He was more than ready to go, from long before the end of my bath, so it wasn’t long before the touching and kissing and heavy breathing began. His hands took in the newly smoothed skin of my legs and I snuggled into his cleaned up face.

We decided we had forgotten to grab a few things, including the vibrator that we bought weeks ago and hadn’t used yet. I stood up before him and he came up behind me and wrapped his arms tight around me. I opened my legs to let him between them without actually penetrating and the warmth of his cock made me instantly wet. I had told him “not yet” when he tried to slide into me, which at this point is always more easy than I’d like it to be. Upon feeling how wet I actually was, I bent forward and popped back onto him suddenly.

The sound he made… I can just imagine the look that was on his face at that moment. I’ve seen it before and it’s one of my most favorite faces in the whole universe.

Just as suddenly as the moment happened, I was orgasming hard. He had to hold me up as my knees buckled beneath me and I held back any noise whatsoever, my entire body straining to contain the screaming that wanted to escape.

We literally ran to get the stuff that we had intended to get, both of us desperately wanting to be back in that moment.

I got back to the bed before him and sprawled out on the bed with my legs wide open. He came and curled up next to me, his hands exploring every fold and curve. He grabbed the vibrator and pushed it as far into me as it would go and then turned it on. It was the strangest thing I have felt in a really long time (probably since the last time I owned a vibrator) and I’m sure my face scrunched at the sensation.

He turned the vibration off and pulled and pushed on the vibrator a few times. Then, he asked me politely to take over. I reached down behind me and continued the same motions he had and experimented with the bent tip of the vibrator. He watched on in a way that I’ve craved and let his fingers explore freely.

He removed the vibrator and rolled me to my side. I stuck my rear out far to give him the best access. He playfully penetrated me and we both giggled at how wet I was. I knew when he reached his hands between my legs that there was a good chance he was going to do something to my anal area and man, do I ever know my man!

He slid a finger easily into my tight hole and I gently rocked against him trying to keep my body as relaxed as possible. I’m not all sure what exactly he was doing back there but there was a lot of different feelings going on, so that remains a mystery to me.

He moved my leg and his body just slightly and I decided I wanted, nay needed, to feel his lips on mine. I put my fingers to his lips then to my clit and he excitedly obliged. Have I ever told you how good The Boyfriend is at this?!? It really is a shame that it only happens about once a year, because I would much rather it happen everyday…

He knows just the right moves to make at exactly the right moment and he loves all the things that I love during oral. I like to have my hand in his hair, and he loves for me to be rough with his head. I like to say what I want and he loves to be given those directions. He knows exactly the right moment to switch from just tongue and teeth and lips to fingers and he knows precisely how to bring me to orgasm every single time.

And that’s exactly what he did.

It was no rest at all. My face was red, my hair was drenched in sweat and my breathing was erratic, but he was ready for more, more, more. He laid next to me on his back and pulled me on top of him. He roughly grabbed as much of my breast as he could manage and sucked hard on a large portion of it as I lowered onto him and he continued to manhandle my chest.

I leaned back on my arms and the view intrigued him and so he moved position to better see and this resulted in my laying on my back, halfway off the bed almost upside down and him coming at me vigorously from on top. My breasts were bouncing so hard that my breathing naturally matched the rate of his thrusts. He was, for lack of a better word, mesmerized by what he could see and he intensely watched the meeting of our soaking genitals.

I don’t know how he does it. If I were a penis holder, I am almost positive that I would not be able to go as long as he does. As a non-penis holder, I cannot stave off orgasm for that long. It makes sense when he slows down in between the rhythmic pounding, but when he’s going for the 20-30 minutes it takes for my third orgasm, never once slowing his pace, it seriously shocks and amazes me. I look at him like he’s some kind of superhero afterwards and like he should win an award for his performance or something.

What I’m trying to say is that it took me forever and a day to orgasm. At this point, my whole vulvular area becomes numbed, again for lack of a better word. I can still feel everything just as much as I ever did before and in some cases, more so, but nothing is nearly as sensitive as it is in the beginning, especially my clit. By the time I came, I had both hands down there working as hard as they could and when I erupted into my third orgasm it was loud.

I don’t know how he does this one either, again an award should be given and received, but just as I’m cumming he erupts too and we have this blissful moment where our hearts and genitals contract and release at the same time and it’s as if everything else fades around us. I suppose we’re normally exchanging dreamy swoony looks at the same moment, though I’m far less aware of that…

We had to move to the other end of the bed to get back to our pillows. I laid on my back, he placed his warm hand on my stomach, to ease the discomfort in my cervix, which had been thoroughly poked and prodded, and within moments we were dead to the world asleep.

All day, all either of us could say to the other was, “Oh my god, such great sex last night…”.

 

A Secondary Partner… Not So Crazy, Right?

Being a high sex drive kinkster with a low sex drive vanilla partner in a monogamous relationship is just about the hardest thing ever.

I reached that breaking point again last night. That point where I’m sick of putting my desires aside, sick of putting my sexuality on the back burner, and blurted out again that I wanted a secondary partner.

It seems to happen every single time we get here. I don’t want him to be something he’s not, but I don’t want to deny myself something that I so desperately desire. Like my favorite part of Nymphomaniac, I want him to be Shia Leboeuf and tell me that I’m a tiger and I need to be fed… Alas, he doesn’t and I’m left wanting more.

It’s terrible because I have this intense internal war with myself that seems to grow and build and grow and build. I feel guilty for my desires a lot of the time because they seem so all consuming. Maybe it’s because it’s the only complaint we have in our relationship, but it feels like it’s this huge unsolvable problem. And my desires are the cause of that problem, my constant, nagging, neverending urge to have sex and then have more sex and give head and orgasm. And then, I argue that I shouldn’t feel guilty for these desires because they are the most normal desires in the whole entire world. I beat myself up for feeling guilty because I shouldn’t feel guilty for wanting to be my “authentic sexual self”.

And by the time the internal war is raging beyond bloodshed in my head, I have no choice but to blurt out these thoughts. Because he falls asleep on me during yet another attempt at a second orgasm, I am pushed over the edge on the internal war, and with him going to graveyards soon, I am just terrified of what it’s going to be like.

If at this moment, I feel like I’m not getting enough sex, not getting enough of the kind of sex I want, not being sexually satiated, then how the hell am I going to feel when he’ll basically be incapable of having sex at all in a few months?!?

And yes, there are workarounds and it’s not like I won’t be getting any action at all. I did get pregnant with his child while he was working graveyards, so it’s not like it’s total celibacy. But, I just can’t see it being a better situation than we have now and I definitely can’t see it staying like this…

I hate that in these moments it seems like the only logical move is to break up, because I feel like it’s so irrational. But then I do stuff like go to groups on FetLife for kinksters with vanilla partners and I think back to conversations on the web from long ago, and I just can’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. The reality is that he will probably never suddenly become kinky and we will have to “compromise”. And by compromise, I mean that he will continue to get what he wants and I’ll continue to get nothing that I want, except the irregular vanilla sex session.

So, I blurt out things like I want a secondary partner. What I really want is for him to wake up and become the man of my dreams, or at least put some effort into becoming the sexual partner I deserve!

I deserve someone who is going to worship every single curve of this body that has brought four beautiful children into the world and nursed them and raised them. I deserve someone who will hunger for the taste of me and relish in the delicate folds of my wet lips. I deserve someone who will nurture my intelligence and care for my mind. I deserve someone who will sacrifice sleep just to watch me orgasm one more time. I deserve someone who cares enough to be that someone…

I blurt out things like I want a secondary partner, because I don’t expect him to miraculously change. I know that he can’t give me it all, especially being that there’s a lot of it. And like I said to him, “It’s not that you’re inadequate. It’s that I’m a lot. It’s ridiculous to think that one person can handle it all!” – and I honestly believe that.

He says an absolute no to the secondary partner idea every single time. It’s an immediate response. I don’t know why I expect anything different every single time, but I do. And I am disappointed every single time.

The exact same conversation plays over and over at this point. Me going on about how a secondary partner isn’t that outrageous of an idea, that I can’t stand the way this makes me feel, drudging up deep and profound thoughts on my sexuality. He basically sits there pouting and every once and awhile will interject something about jealousy or how my feelings on this whole thing make him feel insecure.

The conversation always ends with no resolution, no solution, nothing. Basically, we both spout and then act as if the whole thing never happened. Normally, I’ll get really great sex that night – not kinky or anything and he’ll probably still fall asleep as I attempt my second orgasm – but great sex. And in a few weeks time, this whole process will repeat itself.

How many years can a person survive like that?

Dream Fighting

Last night, I dreamt that The Boyfriend and I had a massive fight. It was probably the best thing that could’ve happened, because having that fight in real life would’ve sucked. Having it in my dreams meant that I was able to get all the crap off my chest without hurting anyone’s feelings or saying things that I don’t actually mean.

It always happens when I officially reach that point where I’m no longer sexually satiated. Typically, I last about three days after the last orgasm, and then I start to get cranky and irritable. If I was single, I know I can go months and months. But when he sleeps next to me, smelling the way he does and all shirtless and sexy, three days is the longest I seem to be able to get.

And he’s been holding out on me something fierce.

I could understand it more if I, in anyway, required him to do any of the work during one of our sexperiences. I have made it abundantly clear to him that I count his orgasm, and his orgasm alone, as the orgasm that begins the three day limit. I don’t need sexual intercourse to feel sexually satiated. I receive so much pleasure from his pleasure that the experience doesn’t need to culminate with my orgasm – and so, even a blowjob or handjob would do me well!

But, he’s holding out on me something fierce.

I want so much more than he’s giving me sexually and it’s very frustrating. I don’t want to force him to do anything with me or force him to be a certain way with me sexually, but I sincerely wish that he would choose to take strides to be more of the sexual mate that I desire. It would be entirely different if I didn’t clearly define it for him on a regular basis, than I could understand his lack of motivation or his uncertainty. But I tell him what I want and how I want it, it would be nice if he could choose to do some of those things for me.

Especially being how quickly I’ll do them for him. I don’t know how many times I have to reference it, but I don’t enjoy anal sex. However, I don’t reject the possibility of it because I know that he does enjoy it. There’s also the whole thing where he mentions a fantasy and that night gets to live it out, but I mention a fantasy and immediately get turned down. It just feels like I’m giving and giving but getting very little in return and that can be an incredibly irritating experience.

Plus, he’s holding out on me something fierce.

Lately, our actual sexperiences have been lacking for me, but only because of one thing. We start with a lot of foreplay for him. Then, it’s sex. Normally, we orgasm together or he gets me to orgasm first. Albeit, all my orgasms are from my hand and my hand alone. The sex though, is always incredible. Typically, my first orgasm comes on really suddenly and fast and doesn’t last very long. It feels like a pre-cursor to the main event and this almost always results in me craving a second orgasm.

This is where it begins to lack. By this point, he’s typically orgasmed. He lays beside me and places his hand on my leg and starts to fall asleep. He’ll rub his fingers across my skin and then begin to doze off, and then will wake suddenly and rub his fingers and then begin to doze off. I stay in this place where my orgasm is literally just a certain touch away for such a long period of time and instead of focusing on my orgasm, I start to think about him and his lack of interest and his obvious thoughts about my sexuality and how much I bore him and stay in that place for such a long time.

By the time I actually get the second orgasm out, because I have to or I know that I will spend the next however many days until he decides to put out again in aroused agony, it is an orgasm that leaves me feeling dirty and empty and full of shame, anger and disappointment. It’s negativity overshadows the sexperience, no matter how positive, how amazing, how mind-boggling it is.

The talks we have about it in real life, often end up leaving us both just feeling defeated. They are mostly unproductive, we both say a lot of things we don’t mean to say the way we end up saying them – so it results in a lot of hurt feelings over things that probably wouldn’t hurt so much if we just said it differently. Solutions are incredibly difficult to come by, especially being that his sex drive just doesn’t adhere to any of the solutions…

I am glad that the fight over sex happened in my dreams this time. When I woke up this morning, I felt like I had chipped off a chunk of weight from my shoulder. I felt less angry, I felt like I had gotten petty and useless stuff off my chest and I didn’t feel like telling him he sucked, my code phrase to him that I’m officially at my limit.

The first thing I said to him this morning was that I fought with him about our lack of sex last night in my dreams. He bowed his head and apologized, then kissed me on the cheek. Somehow, I felt better.

Sexual Bitching

I’m always completely surprised by how bitchy I can get when I’m not getting the sexual experiences that I want. Suddenly, I become someone I don’t recognize.

It’s not that I’m not getting sex, although I haven’t for the last few days thanks to a period. And all those days that I haven’t been getting sex, without even being 100% aware of it, I’ve been incredibly sexually needy. So much so that The Boyfriend has gotten head every single night for the last four nights and my orgasm hasn’t even been on the radar.

I’ve been having a lot of sex dreams or sudden midday “visualizations”. I wouldn’t say that they’re necessarily fantasies, because sometimes they’re not even of things that I want. Like for example, the other night, I started visualizing giving The Boyfriend head, but then another person appeared behind me. He roughly grabbed my hair and thrust himself hard and deep into my ass, shoving The Boyfriend’s cock deep down my throat, muffling the screams. After he came, The Boyfriend scooped me up and wooed me with plenty of “Good girls”, and slowly, intimately, nicely made love to my ass. And when the visualization was over, all I could think is that that is nothing that I’d ever want, what the hell?!?

However, all these sex dreams, visualizations, thoughts about sex, sex on the brain, it tends to get to me. First of all, my sex life is nowhere near what I thought it would be by now. I figured I’d have a girlfriend and a boyfriend by now, I’d be getting my pussy worhsipped and daily spankings and tied up in rope and punished and rewarded for my sexual behaviour. I figured I’d at least be getting some kinkier sex. But nope, still just the same ole vanilla sex – and I’m not complaining, because I love that sex, but it’s not what I had hoped for…

Second, I’m much more interested in sexuality than any of my partners ever have been. And they hook me by pretending to be interested in the beginning of our relationships and then six years into it become absolutely complacent. To me, sex isn’t just sex. I mean, it can be, but what’s the point of that when you’re intimately and lovingly sharing your sexuality with your monogamous partner. Not everytime needs to be magical but it should be something that you strive for every once and awhile.

And I’m not saying that he doesn’t at all, he just doesn’t often enough or in the right ways. I want someone who is going to explore my body the way I explore theirs. I want someone who is interested in tasting or even seeing my vagina, even half as much as I enjoy tasting and looking at and exploring his penis. I want someone who isn’t going to fall asleep when I’m left to masturbate at the end of an exhausting session. I want someone who will fulfill one of my fantasies, not because it’s his fantasy, but because it’s mine!

See, these times just make me one big ball of bitchy. It even begins to roll over into the non-sexual areas of life. Last night, I told The Boyfriend to force me to play guitar while we were at my Mom’s. Spent hours at Mom’s today and not once was it mentioned. And the thought that runs through my head is along the lines of, “He doesn’t care”, and it’s not true. I know it’s not true, he knows it’s not true, everyone knows it’s not true. But during these times, I can’t help but hate him a little.

I hate him because I want so desperately to not hate him and a little effort on his part would go a long way towards making me not hate him and that makes me hate him even more. And then I rationalize with myself and I say, “But he works hard all day” and “He deals with so much at work” and “The kids have been a handful”, and I hate him even more for being such an amazing guy, so amazing that I can’t just hate him.

It’s very confusing for my brain, not to mention how confusing it is for my body.

Your Safeword is Bananas

Yesterday, The Boyfriend was convinced that he had to be at work for 9 AM. We woke up early and everything so that we could have coffees before work and it was the first time in weeks that I’ve been up way before noon. At about 8:30, he left for work and I started my online work.

An hour and a half or so later, he shows back up. Turns out he was closing, so he would have to go back to work later. He sat down next to me and played on his phone as usual. After a little bit, he turns and says to me, “God, you look good giving head” – here he is, on his phone, finally watching some of the videos we’ve made. I giggle as he continues to watch and he mentions that maybe when Carter goes to school we can have a quickie before work.

The day carries on and then he goes and drops Carter off at school. When he gets back, he sits for maybe 20 minutes and then whips off his pants, grabs my ponytail and directs my mouth to his already stiff self. I happily oblige. After another 20 minutes, he says that we’re going upstairs.

We both race up there and remove the rest of our clothing in a hurry. I lay back on the bed and he swiftly penetrates me, all the while kissing any piece of skin that comes near his lips. I have my first orgasm very quickly and his response to that first orgasm was purely epic. He pushed himself deeper and deeper, very slowly and stayed so still, me shaking furiously beneath him. And he kept kissing me everywhere.

He asks me to get on top of him for a little bit. As soon as I get up there, he says somethng like “You’re so sexy” and it always throws me off my game a little. I want to contradict him and be like, “Seriously?”, but I don’t. He absolutely delights in my breasts when I’m on top – he can’t even see any of the other flaws because all he sees is boobies. I was shaking so bad that I could hardly move an inch. Didn’t help that he kept reaching his hands between my legs to play with my clit, causing me to quiver violently.

He sat up and took my breasts hard into his mouth and wrapped his arms about my body, pulling me in so tight to him that I could feel his heart beating against my stomach. He gently laid me down without ever leaving me, and began to whisper in my ear.

I didn’t hear all of what he was saying. I heard the words “slowly, deeper” and “you have five minutes to cum or…” and “You’ll be saying ‘No Daddy, No’, and my brain and body turned into mush. He doesn’t have a particularly sexy voice but the second he does that whispering thing during sex… Geesh, just thinking about is making me a little hot.

He turns so that he can see the clock and he’s watching the minutes tick by as he continues to thrust. I’m still trying to figure out exactly what he’s got planned, when he suddenly pulls back and roughly turns me over. His hand pushes down on my upper back and he says firmly, “Your safeword is bananas”, and I melted beneath him.

He thrust hard into my pussy and roughly penetrated my ass with his finger. I yelped into my pillow, trying my hardest to muffle my overly loud sounds. After a few moments, he was trying hard to get his dick in my ass. The first push, I thought I could take it. The second push, I noticed myself tightening up. The third push, which seemed so much harder than the rest, caused me to pull up away from him and he whispered, “Are you okay?” and I moaned. The fourth push caused me to shake and everytime I tried to relax, the shaking in my legs and back began so violent, I said bananas…

He continued from behind but left my ass alone and it took no time at all for him to orgasm, thrusting so hard and so deep that I felt like I was going to burst. He asked if I was okay again and I purred into him, “Better than okay” and he laid back, both of us sweating in places we haven’t sweat since the summertime.

We finished with just enough time for a smoke before he had to leave for work. The rest of the day, bananas were on my brain. As I walked to pick up Carter, my legs still jelly-like, a dorky smile graced my face as bananas floated through my mind. As I watched TV and made dinner, I kept thinking “bananas” and when he came home from work, the first thing I said to him was bananas.

Nymphomaniac

Netflix recently added two titles that I decided to spend four hours on last night. Nymphomaniac Volume I and II. It’s one of the rare times I’ve left a movie on Netflix and had to give it a 5-star rating, because this movie seriously moved me.

I often have a huge attraction to these types of films for a whole lot of different reasons. Firstly, because they’re the only movies where women’s sexuality closely resembles my own desires, and you don’t feel isolated by that which you can’t relate to. I tend to be more moved by stories of highly sexualized women, because I am one.

Second, they are often very artistically done, and I can’t tell you how much I really appreciate that in a film. For example, Nymphomaniac started with a black screen and just sounds in the background. Then, there was a good few minutes where you were following sounds of a desolate alley as a light rain/snow fell – like the rain falling on the tin roof, or the squeak of a fan slowly turning, or the gentle clink of some kind of windchime. Scenes like this are so poetic to me and touch me on such a deep level. The movie is 100x better because of this small attention to detail.

Thirdly, these movies are often really great at making you think and use your brain – and movies like this always really excite me. They make you question your current ways of thinking about gender and the roles that plays in your life, sexuality and your thoughts regarding the whole spectrum of things that term encompasses, relationships and love and intimacy. All my favorite things to think about! I often walk away from these movies feeling like some profound change in my person has occured, and it’s one step closer to being the me I’ve always dreamed of being – and a movie that can do that to you… Pretty spectacular!

The Boyfriend came home from work about half an hour before I finished Volume II – the longer of the two movies. I paused to explain what was going on so that he could at least kind of watch, and in that paused time we talked and talked and talked. From his updates about work, to my thoughts about the movie so far, and even a quick run-down of the news aritcles we had both read throughout the day. Then, we watched the final thirty minutes.

Let me tell you, I was absolutely blown away by the ending. I was so upset by that ending (as I seem to be with many things that I’m watching lately), and I ranted and raved about the validation and then the sudden violation, I gawked and moaned. It was the perfect ending and the absolutely most terrible ending all in one swift blow and I loved it more for it and hated it all at the same time!

Since it was already getting late, The Boyfriend suggested we move upstairs. I had a feeling that we were probably going to get sexual with each other, but I wasn’t exactly sure since he was feeling pretty exhausted. After I laid down in bed and got all comfy, he kinda wrapped his arms around part of me so that he could lift me up on top of him. I was absolutely surprised to find him absolutely hard.

The sex was incredible! So incredible that out of nowhere, after years of begging, three hard slaps befell my rear and the experience from that point on was blissful. I had gone into the whole session thinking to myself that this and this and this thing was not going to happen because of all the denials that have been made to me. Like my go-to, I’m not going to give him oral sex unless he gives me oral sex – and all of those thoughts floated out of my mind and I couldn’t wait to give him more, give him anything.

And, after a really long time, too long of a time, I finally got oral. It felt so different than I remembered it, as I’m sure it always does after a long time of not having it. Two new modifications to a position spiced things up near the end and even though he basically begged for anal, we never actually got there. The orgasm, at the exact same moment, where I held him tighter than I ever have with my legs and arms wrapped about him and he gently kissed and stroked my neck and moved the hair out of my face, was the perfect cap to the incredible sex.

I rolled to the side, a sort of euphoric glow surrounding me, and he came up tight behind me and rubbed my arm gently before giving me the final kiss and saying “I love you”. I felt nothing but extreme gratefulness and absolute relief.

Today he kissed me and bit my lip gently as he pulled away. That grateful relief came flooding back to me.

It All Started Over a Hashtag…

On Wednesday or Thursday, shortly after The Boyfriend and I awoke from a great sleep, I jumped on my computer as usual and through a variety of articles on Mashable discovered the #WhyWeNeedFeminism hashtag.

For quite a long time, The Boyfriend and I have been having this ongoing debate about feminism. But this hashtag changed things. We were going at it this one morning. I’ll often say to him, even prior to learning about this hashtag, “And that is exactly why we need feminism”, because he’s absolutely terrible for saying things he doesn’t exactly mean.

So this one morning, we’re hardcore in heated debate mode. And when we both feel really passionate about a topic, there’s often a lot of interrupting that goes on and usually we both just take it in stride. It’s not often that we debate on serious topics though and apparently we both take our opinions on feminism pretty seriously. As the conversation heats up, he’s trying to make a point and I say something and he booms over top of me, “Can you just be quiet and let me finish?” and I immediately apologize and let him finish.

But ever since that moment… Things have felt very weird between us. And as the days march on, it just feels weirder and weirder.

Obviously no, we’re not still debating feminism and actually I’ve avoided bringing the topic up at all because I feel like we’ve both said all there is to say. No, when he asked me to be quiet, it wasn’t rude or upsetting for either us and we continued on just as we always do in a heated debate. But the feeling between us seems to have changed – and I don’t know if I’m the only one whose noticed or if I’m just perceiving things oddly or what’s going on – but it doesn’t feel right.

Then, to add to that feeling of unease, I have been beyond sexually frustrated the last couple of weeks. Finally last night, I reached that point where I just had to say something, I couldn’t help myself. Now it’s not that I’m not getting sex at all, because I am and it’s not frustration because I haven’t orgasmed in awhile, because I have. But it’s that not right feeling following us around…

As I’m sure I’ve said somewhere at sometime, The Boyfriend has an incredibly low sex drive (and I probably would’ve never even considered dating him had I known this 6 years ago…) and rarely, very rarely, wants sex. And I have a very very high sex drive and most people know that something is definitely not right with me when I’m not thinking about sex, because I almost always am. We clash a lot over it, but we manage.

So this last week, he was on holidays. I always think going into his holidays that it’s going to be a sex-filled week and I’m always greatly disappointed. But it’s not the lack of sex that’s been frustrating me, it’s the lack of interest on his part that is getting to me. And it’s outright jealousy…

When he walks into a room, I’m immediately turned on by him, especially if he’s wearing jeans or has his shirt off. If I had a cock, I’d spring a chubbie. I’m always telling him how sexy/handsome/amazing he is and every fantasy he’s ever brought to this relationship has been realized the same day he mentions it to me. He doesn’t even have to ask for sex to get it.

I, on the other hand, can be completely naked, half-clothed, in a bra and underwear, wearing a short skirt, in whatever form I’m in, and he doesn’t even feel a twinge in his cock. No one ever tells me I’m sexy/beautiful/amazing, not even when I actively seek it out. The list of fantasies that I’ve brought to this relationship that have never been realized is extensive and most of my fantasies have been flat-out denied. I have to hint for days and days that I want sex and then when I finally do get it, he acts like he’s only doing it because he’s obligated to do it… Like it’s a chore or a job.

Then, since our feminism debate, I just feel like we’ve been completely disconnected. Like it flipped some sort of switch. I’ve felt incredibly angry at him almost all week and have been quick and easy to snap at him for no reason (which is absolutely unlike me altogether with him), he’s been tip-toeing on eggshells constantly. And I just feel a little bit like we’re spiraling out of control.

Last night, I decided that I needed one last orgasm before he went to work. He obliged and while the orgasm was great (and much needed), the build up to it felt like a completely solitary experience, even though he was lying right next to me doing all the work. When I was done, I said something a long the lines of “It just feel like you haven’t been very interested…” and then we both fell asleep.

Things just feel awkward right now. I feel off and our relationship feels off. It’s discomforting and it sucks…