Thursday, May 12, 2016

Banana Pussy Motivation

"Sure you don't wanna make that "who gets some first" bet? Looks like your odds are better than mine." 

Hando had a gig that took him 2500 miles away for three months shortly after we began dating in March. 

"Sure," I said, enjoying the idea of a little healthy competition. "What's that bet? Think of something. It's little challenge to me as you'll do pretty much anything I ask without having to make a bet anyway."

"Pretty sure of yourself, aren't you?"

"Yep."

"Who says it has to be a "do something"... It could be a banana split. Or a prize."

"Ok suggest something." My mind had immediately gone for the gutter, it's true, but I was open to seeing what he would come up with. 

"Now you've got me thinking of all these big sexy things, but it doesn't have to be that huge a deal."

"Ok banana split then."

"Ok. That's good I guess."

"But whoever loses has to be the dish."

"You TOTALLY read my mind!"

"No way."

"Way."

"Ice cream is COLD. I don't wanna lose," I said. 

"Me neither! Now I have some extra motivation... And I kinda wanna eat a banana out of your pussy."

"Because getting laid isn't enough motivation."

"Ha! True.I'm totally guessing you're gonna win. But now I might have to go out tonight after work for the first time in a while." 

"Banana pussy motivation."

"BPM."

"Which will make you smile even more when you fuck her. Thoughts of BPM."

"True. I'll totally be thinking of that. She'll never know."

We talked and texted daily, often for hours, and usually covered how each of us were progressing. 

"She's not super cute, but she's age appropriate and probably DTF. Maybe the bet is winnable after all..."

"I'd be happy to lose the bet if if means you're getting laid," I responded. And it was true. 

"Awwww, #compersion #polyforthewin #icecream"

And there was the one rather lengthy discussion to define what winning actually meant. You'd think it would be pretty straight forward but considering my bisexual and kinky proclivities, it did require some definition.

"Does it have to be penis in vagina sex? What if I peg a guy?"

"You can't cum from pegging a guy so it shouldn't count."

"Oh yes I can!" 

"Oh. Well if I get a blow job and cum does THAT count?"

"Of course it doesn't. Ok, can we say it counts if someone's penis goes in a vagina or ass? Or if I have sex with a girl?"

He agreed but tried to convince me fucking Dr Dom / Mr Subby shouldn't count because he was a sure thing. I won that argument, mostly because he lives far enough away that a visit before Hando returned was not a sure thing. 

At first I was hellbent on winning. I really didn't want a banana in my pussy or cold ice cream anywhere on my body. I mentally ticked off the possibilities and focused on a few I felt like were easy prey. I even reached out to a couple of them. But my heart wasn't in it and I never broached the subject. 

The thing is, as good as I am at casual sex and keeping my emotions separate when I want to, I rarely fuck someone casually. And when I say rarely, I mean like once in past three years, maybe more. 

I just enjoy sex more when it's with someone with whom I have a connection. It's that simple. Not very slutty of me, I know. 

I decided to win or lose the bet organically. I was talking to women and men I was potentially interested in dating but in no hurry to seal the deal. And yet it still looked a bit like I was going to win as Hando was experiencing some challenges and it was looking like a visit from Dr Dom / Mr Subby, AKA "a sure thing," was going to happen before Hando's return. 

And then suddenly I received a text.

"The girl I told you invited me for drinks just texted me she just got fired! Gonna go to her place now and find out what happened. Tell you more later or tomorrow 😘"

Then less than an hour later: "Just won the bet... Well, I'm still winning it. She's on her way over."

"LOL good job honey! Have fun!"

I love that we have the kind of relationship where we can make bets on who gets laid first. That I can talk to Hando about Dr Dom / Mr Subby and potential partners. That I was genuinely happy he won the bet and had sex with someone else. 

The purity and unselfishness of compersion astounds me. It is a beautiful thing and I love experiencing it from both sides. I just didn't truly consider that it would mean ending up with a banana in my pussy. 

Sunday, March 13, 2016

You should

"Ooh looks like you have a little tiny bruise here," I said, touching an area of slightly discolored skin on Hando's shoulder about the size of a dime.

"I told you I get marked easily," he said. He glanced at his shoulder, "That's not very bad though."

"Well, I wasn't trying to leave a mark."

"You should have tried harder."

"Oh really," I said, pleasantly surprised. Or maybe I wasn't all that surprised. Despite his lack of D/s experience, he'd been giving me intermittent subby vibes since we'd met. 

"Yeah," he responded with a sigh. 

"I could do it again." It was a question, really. It was as close to asking permission as I could get in Domme-mode. And he'd definitely activated my Domme-mode with this line of discussion. 

"You should."

And I did. 

That night, I met him in a dark parking lot behind a breakfast restaurant. As we stood making out between our parked cars, I yanked the neck of his shirt aside looking for the mark I'd made.

"It's already fading," he said.

"I can fix that."

"I bet that you can."

"Oh I know that I can."

"You should."

"It will hurt," I said, again asking permission without asking.

He moaned in the way that already drove me crazy even though we'd only been seeing each other an impossibly short time. "I know."

I pulled back the neck of his shirt again and kissed the bruised spot gently. "You have to ask for it," I whispered against his skin.

"Please hurt me," he whispered.

And then I did.

"It's still stinging," he said a few minutes later.

"Good," I said. My inner sadist was happy.

"I usually hate it when someone leaves a mark on me. I don't know, why but with you I kind of like it."

"I know why," I said. And then I kissed him hard.

My boy, Hando Likekissinhim

D/s relationship status: Undecided

Relationship status: dating

I met Hando Likekissinhim expecting to make a new poly friend in March of 2016 but instead found a powerful and instantaneous connection. He's a musician in his mid forties with gorgeous hands who I truly adore kissing. Add to that a few of his references to the Force being strong with me and his alias was born.

Hando was curious about BDSM but inexperienced before we met. He'd read some of my blog so he had a little bit of an idea of what he was getting into. Still, I hadn't planned to push his submissive side until I found that he'd triggered my Domme-mode.

Read blogs about Hando Likekissinhim

Friday, January 8, 2016

My swinging New Year's Eve

Las Vegas locals understand New Year's Eve is amateur night. Tourists flood the strip, traffic is a nightmare and the weather is always bitter cold. But the Gentleman wanted to ring in the new year with me in a fun way and I agreed.

He'd booked us into a high end swingers party at a club with an after party for play. I'd been on their mailing list for years but had never attended an event. I donned fishnets, my sexiest heels and a cocktail dress and stepped back into swinging, an interest I'd previously abandoned. 

I've always enjoyed sharing. Threesomes are among my favorite sexcapades. But the one full swap I'd attempted years ago with my FMT was a failure and I've since grown to appreciate the quality sex that comes from a quality relationship. I'd also grown frustrated with trying to find youngish, attractive couples in the swinger community. 

There's something about being involved with a new person you really enjoy that gives you a new perspective on things and, never being one to avoid a new sexual adventure, I agreed to give swinging another shot.

During the first couple of hours of the party, we drank, flirted with the bartender and scoped out the other couples. I was pleasantly surprised at how young and attractive the other couples were and that it seemed the new guy and I had similar taste in women. 

As the night progressed and we consumed more alcohol, we began to get to know other couples. After toasting the new year and watching the fireworks at midnight, we returned to the warmth of the club to find one particularly hot couple at the bar. She was wearing a sexy dress that displayed most of her amazing breasts and one of those New Years crowns.

"Go ask her where she got her hat," Gent suggested. I'd warned him I'm terrible at hitting on women and he was "helping." I protested a little and then went up to her. 

"Happy new year!"

"Happy new yeeeear to you too!" She said with a thick, Southern accent. 

"Where did you get that?" I asked pointing at her crown. 

"That barteender gave it to me," she said. I just wanted to keep her talking so I could try to guess where she was from. It's a hobby of mine, placing a Southern accent. I'm pretty good at it. 

"Wow her accent is worse than yours," Gent declared. "You're from Texas aren't you?"

She and I both said, "No," at the same time. 

"Ah'm fruum Georgia," she said. 

"Ooh mah gawd," I said, my own accent emerging, "I'm from Canton! Where are yoooou fruum?"

She reached out to touch her date in excitement. "Did yooou heear where she's fruum? She's from Canton!"

Her date looked at me with something between terror and delight in his eyes. "Ooh mah gawd! When did you graduate high school?"

"'91. You?"

"Ah'm 9 years older'n you," he said. 

I gave him my name and asked his. He told me his name and it was the name of someone I knew but didn't know well.

"Ooh yeeaah! I kneew you! You were on the yearbook staff riiight?"

His date laughed and punched him playfully. "Tell her who you reeeally are!"

He somewhat reluctantly gave me his real name. "Ah'm sorry but ah just met you at a swingers party in Vegas! I didn't want to tell you who I reeeally ahm!"

I had never known him but I'd known his sister. And of course we knew all of the same people having grown up in the same tiny town. 

We probably spent a half hour comparing notes on people we knew and places we'd frequented, my accent becoming thicker by the moment. She was from the next town over and knew my cousins so she had something to contribute. My date, however, was lost in our heavy accents and talk about people and places he didn't know. Gent laughed that they probably knew more about me than he did. 

"Ah bet you've been out on Turtle Creek," the guy said.

"Of course ah have! I had sex on the creek bank with mah first boyfrieend. Had a huuuuge bruise on my back from the rocks for a week!"

And so it went for the rest of the evening. Like every boy that grew up in my hometown, he'd fished in the lake my grandparents had lived on. He'd had beers at the bar my eighth grade crush now owned. At the after party we continued to learn how much more we had in common, such as neither his lady nor I wore panties. 

Gent and I circulated around the after party, my fishnets in his suit pocket like a naughty handkerchief, making out with each other in pretty much every room in the house. I may or may not have ruined his shoes when he made me squirt in the laundry room but I definitely sucked his cock in the bathroom. 

We didn't swing but had a lovely, sexy evening nonetheless. At about 3:45 AM, we decided to call it a night and went to find our new friends to say our goodbyes. 

"Y'all are leavin'?" the guy from my hometown protested. His partner was happily being chatted up by two single guys while he played pool. 

"Yeah, it's late. But it was so great to meet y'all," I said as I moved to hug him. 

Somewhere in the process of untangling myself from his hug, he kissed me. And I kissed him back. 

"Mmmm NOW I believe you're from Canton," he said. 

"What? You didn't believe me before?!?"

"Nah."

"It's not like we don't know all of the same people or anything."

"No, you coulda been lyin' to me but now that I've kissed you, I KNOW you're from Canton. You kiss just like a Canton girl. Dayum. Yummm."




My boy, The Gentleman (Gent)

D/s relationship status: N/A

Relationship status: dating

After a more than 2.5 year hiatus of intentionally not bringing anyone new into my life, in December of 2015, I decided to start dating again. The Gentleman was my first, first date in a very long time. He's an entrepreneur in his mid forties who has lived all over the world. While he's naturally dominant, loves threesomes and is super open minded, he has not had a ton of exposure to the BDSM or swinging lifestyles and is enjoying exploring with me.

Read blogs about The Gentleman (Gent)

Wednesday, September 23, 2015

Playing with (and kissing) bon-bon again

Bon-bon walked in to find me lounging on his sofa, sipping Riesling, watching porn and texting my friend. Ever the good boy, he came to me and kissed my hand in greeting.

"Hello, Mistress."

He looked delicious as he always does in the crisply pressed white shirt and jeans I'd requested he wear to work that day. But perhaps even more delicious was the anxiety that rolled off of him in waves. 

It had been a couple of years since we had  played together but he knew that little fact wouldn't buy him any leeway with me thanks to our texts the night before our first play date. 

"Getting very excited about this... Kinda nervous."

"I promise not to kill you or permanently injure you."

"I am putting myself totally in your care and I know that you will protect me."

"No, I'll most certainly hurt you but you'll enjoy letting me."

And during the two times we've played since, I've certainly hurt him and he's definitely enjoyed letting me. 

During the first session, I tied his wrists with my beautiful scarlet hemp rope that had been neglected for far too long. I secured it to the stairway bannister so that his hands were stretched over his head and I could admire his sculpted body completely before I unloaded my impact toys and beat him with most everything in my bag. 

During our second session, I switched between deceptively sweet strokes to his cock and hard smacks while I watched his face contort from adoration to something akin to surprise and pain and back again. 

His responses were as beautiful as I remembered. What I'd forgotten, but was reminded of again quickly, was how much he seemed to crave my kisses. As he knelt naked before me, he couldn't seem to get enough of kissing me. Even blindfolded and taking whatever pain I dealt out, he turned to me seeking my lips and my tongue frequently. 

And in that way, I did not deny him. 




Thursday, September 10, 2015

She's baaaaaack!

Nodder has been in and out of my life for five years as a play partner, lover and much much more.

In February, things ended. He moved out of my home and, eventually, out of my state. We continued talking until April when I finally severed ties completely. 

It's been difficult in some ways but overall, it's been much easier to get over the love of my life than it should have been. Certainly easier this time than the other times we've broken up. I should probably go into detail on why but I won't. It's a very un-sexy explanation. 

Let's just say I lost myself and leave it at that. 

I also lost my Mistressness - my sexy, sadistic side - the thing that attracted nodder to me in the first place. He didn't take it with him when he left. It had been eroded slowly over time as I fell more in love with him. 

I've always found it difficult to be a good Domme to someone I love. For me, it takes a little distance to dominate someone well. But being IN love with my sub seems to make domming even more challenging for me. 

Cohabitation didn't help matters. It was impossible for me to feel dominant after working all day and coming home to a messy house when he'd spent the day napping and watching TV. 

My main love language is service. It makes me hot to have a guy do things for me. I came home once to a clean kitchen and was instantly wet. Unfortunately, that only happened once. 

Don't get me wrong. I didn't expect him to be some kind of slave and he wasn't a lazy bum. But a little more help would have gone a long way. I just didn't feel dominant when I was picking up his socks off the floor and, admittedly, I found it difficult to articulate that effectively to him. 

While I did, in fact, feel my dominant desires fading during the last six months of our relationship, our domestic bliss more than made up for it. The pseudo-vanilla sex (I cannot say it was ever totally vanilla) was amazing and we'd built a happy life together. I enjoyed having him as a partner and barely missed my Mistressness. 

And I didn't miss it much after he left, at least not right away. In the months after our breakup, as I began to heal and find myself again, I would occasionally feel a fleeting pang of dominant desire. However, it took a visit from Dr Dom / Mr Subby to reawaken my Mistressness. 

After a year apart, his visit was more about reconnection than kink. Still, his yummy subbiness and the fact that we'd completed one item off my kinky bucket list left me feeling adored and powerful. I'd found my RAWR again. 

And now, seven months post breakup, one of my favorite boy toys, bon-bon, is back for more. 

As I plot and plan for our playtime next week, as I carefully consider every kinky detail, I hear a little voice saying, 

"She's baaaaaack!"

And I feel more like me than I have in a really, really long time.