Tuesday, March 28, 2017

The Maestro and the BBC

It's always a relief to meet someone new that can happily navigate open relationships and who enjoys sex. But rarely do I meet someone more pervy than me.

For my third date with the Maestro, he orchestrated a threesome with another open, bisexual woman that he's seeing. Yes, our THIRD date.

And it was fantastic.

We've also played with another couple. Actually, we were the wife's Valentine's Day gift. And I was her first taste of woman.

But the Maestro enjoys watching, a lot. And while he certainly enjoyed watching me with women, he was interested in watching me with another guy.

"I've never had BBC (big black cock)," I had revealed to him early in our relationship.

"Really? We should make that happen. I'd love to see that."

A few weeks later, we'd set aside an evening to spend time together.

"Want to order in dinner?" The Maestro texted.

"I thought you were getting me a BBC," I joked.

"Oh I can do that."

I thought he might also be joking, but when I arrived at his house, the email responses to his craigslist ad had begun to roll in, his phone dinging every minute or two.

I began to think that maybe I hadn't been joking with him. It seemed like a great idea. I could get BIG cock and the Maestro would get to watch. And once again, I'd get to share a pervy experience with him.

I chose the guy and gave him my limits but I let him coordinate. I let the Maestro orchestrate it.

It went off without a hitch. The guy, later described as "A black god" by the Maestro, was indeed hot as fuck, ripped and had a giant cock. But he was also a great kisser and very gentle.

I had envisioned having BBC while someone watched many times before but it was always with cucking and forced bi as part of the scene. In my head, it was going to be about enjoying BBC without regard to whoever was watching.

This was very different from everything I'd imagined. Yes, it was very much about enjoying BBC but there was no D/s involved at all.

Well, I MIGHT have gotten just a little toppy. I did ask him to stand in a certain spot and slowly remove his clothes. But I didn't dominate him.

Seriously. I didn't.

I had fun playing with him while the Maestro watched. It felt liberating to enjoy a scene I didn't have to coordinate.

There's a certain freedom in enjoying a hedonistic guy like the Maestro and his non D/s perviness. He doesn't give a shit about my Mistressness and I'm able to engage with him (and whoever else we involve in our shenanigans) on a purely sexual level.

My boy, the Maestro

D/s relationship status: none

Relationship status: dating 

The Maestro came up as a high match for me on OKCupid, probably because he also enjoys open relationships. Although he does have a little bit of a kinky side, he's not into BDSM. He's a consummate voyeur with a network of sexually open people. He earned the pseudonym "The Maestro" because of his innate ability to orchestrate group sex fun.

Read blogs about the Maestro

Tuesday, March 14, 2017

My type

Until a few years ago, I'd always claimed I didn't have a type. True, I'd enjoyed an exotic men phase (Indian, Egyptian, Iranian, French and Italian) and I'd always enjoyed younger men, but physically, there were few similarities among the men I dated.

And then nodder shaved his head.

Well, actually I shaved nodder's head but that's another story.

Nodder, bon-bon and my pet object, I realized then, were all bald, submissive guys from New England. Nodder and my pet object both sported goatees also. I had to finally admit I have a type.

And then almost a year ago, I started dating Hando. He wasn't submissive when I found him and isn't from New England but is bald and has a goatee. He's also the same height and roughly the same build as bon-bon and my pet object.

It was about that time that I started noticing an attraction to random bald guys I'd run across. I'd immediately think of how their head and bare shoulders would look from my point of view as they bent between my thighs to lick my pussy.

I mean seriously. How hot is that?

This fall I took my pet object to a sporting event where he met many of my coworkers including bon-bon. In fact, he was seated right next to bon-bon and they chatted a bit about New England throughout the event. They even shared a joke about me having "a type."

When I visited Hando during Thanksgiving, I posted some pictures on Facebook of us and wondered if my coworkers would notice that it wasn't the same bald, medium height guy with light eyes and facial hair. No one ever commented so I never had to laugh off the whole "Yes, I have two boyfriends" idea as an explanation. I figured they'd assume it was the same guy if they even cared at all.

This past weekend, bon-bon and his girlfriend hosted a party attended by many of our coworkers. I took Hando.

I wondered how many of my coworkers would mistake him for my pet object. In fact, I texted my pet object right before the party and told him.

"Wanna make a bet on whether someone mistakes him for you?"

"Oh that's gonna happen," he said.

Each time I introduced Hando to someone who had met my pet object, I waited for them to say, "Good to see you again" or "I think we've met before" but it didn't happen.

And then bon-bon caught me in the kitchen without Hando and said, "Hey, I didn't want to say anything but isn't that the guy you brought to the sporting event?"

Bon-bon and I have grown close over the past year. He's begun introducing me as one of his best friends. He knows me well, knows about both Hando and my pet object and KNEW I was bringing Hando to the party.

So needless to say, I was blown away that HE was the one who couldn't tell them apart.

I guess I should be grateful it was him and not another coworker. The last thing I need is for my and bon-bon's coworkers to notice that I have a type and that type is bon-bon.

As we circulated and said our goodbyes, I found Hando talking to bon-bon. Their height, their coloring, their shiny shaved heads - even their eye glasses are so similar that as I approached them, I had to smile.

Yep, I have a type. Now let's just hope my coworkers don't figure that out.

Monday, January 9, 2017

What I learned in 2016

In my Domme prime when I regularly considered new subs, I steered clear of newbies. I'd learned very quickly that boys who were new to the lifestyle had learned what they thought was submission from porn and didn't understand the loving relationship aspect of the lifestyle that I treasured. I found many who identified as submissive simply had a submissive fetish or two and wanted a Domme as a fetish delivery system. I've also found that newbies are more likely to disappear when confronted with a new experience that overwhelms them. They simply aren't committed because they haven't had enough experience to know definitely they are submissive and that they sincerely want D/s.

Seasoned subs understand that my pleasure comes first without me explaining it. They're basically happy as long as I'm pleased. And because they know what they are getting into, the usually don't disappear. They actually show up and they stick around through the tough stuff, even when they are overwhelmed. I enjoy the simplicity of the arrangement so when I consider a new sub, I look for a seasoned sub.

When I met Hando a year ago, I immediately disclosed that I was kinky. He wasn't kinky but mentioned a curiosity so I gave him a link to my blog.

When we started dating last spring, other than being very much a gentleman, he gave me no submissive vibes and didn't stoke my Domme fire at all.

As much as I love making a boy a subby puddle, there's a lovely freedom in having a partner I'm not dominating. I'd really thought Hando was going to be that. However, when we began sleeping together, I stumbled upon a few things that triggered a submissiveness he didn't know existed - one that I hadn't suspected was there either. One that my finely tuned Domme radar had missed.

It's not the first time I've "turned" a vanilla guy. If there's any submissiveness in a guy, I'll find it and drag it out of him. It's who I am - a sub magnet. However, I must admit, I'm always a little disappointed when that happens because I really do treasure the partners I have that do not submit.

So when I found Hando's subby triggers, I was surprised to find myself excited to show him the ropes, pardon the pun.

Why is it different with Hando? The obvious answer would be our connection and my affection for him. The fact is, when I love a sub, I'm a different Domme. Softer for sure. Perhaps more patient, definitely more tolerant and open.

Maybe it's how naturally he took to kink. It's taken very little direction or redirection to get the behavior I am looking for from him and even that has been FAR more enjoyable than I recall it being with other newbies back in the olden days when I still considered them.

I really love to watch Hando process new kinky things. He's an amazing communicator who has zero issue telling me pretty much every thought in his head and that gives me enormous insight into what's going on in there. And it's so fucking hot to be a part of that.

I must admit, I have really enjoyed watching him experience everything for the first time. It wasn't a chore. It wasn't frustrating. It was beautiful and I will always cherish being a part of that.

As I tell Hando, you never get another first time. Each first should be savored and enjoyed.

And that's how I feel about this first for me. What I learned in 2016 is that I CAN enjoy a newbie.

Wednesday, December 28, 2016

Fucking priorities

Hando has been working abroad through much of our 10 month relationship. In those precious times we are together, we are in bed 90% of the time. And I'm just counting the time we are awake in bed.

"You know what I love about you?" Hando asked last summer as we got dressed after yet another round in bed. "I love that you just assume we are going to have sex before we go anywhere, even if we are just going out to dinner."

The truth is, I haven't had a partner I've wanted to constantly fuck like I do Hando since I was in my twenties. So when Hando brought it up, it gave me a little pause.

Was I using him? No, I decided after some consideration. When we are apart, we text and talk on the phone constantly so it's not like we don't know HOW to communicate or don't want to. We communicate amazingly well as best friends and lovers. And we do occasionally drag ourselves out in public with friends.  It's just when we have time to spend together, we prefer to spend it in bed.

So as we planned my November visit, we joked about leaving time in the itinerary to fuck. Well, it wasn't much of a joke. We were pretty serious about making it a priority. Still, he had a long list of places he wanted to show me. And I knew I needed to take lots of pictures so I'd have evidence I didn't fuck my way through the islands.

Upon my arrival, I found Hando looking as delicious as ever even though he was standing in a light drizzle of rain in a t-shirt, swim trunks and flip flops. As we kissed for the first time in three months, my hands moved from his neck to his shoulders and down his upper arms before my thumbs found his nipples. He sighed into my mouth.

I was ready to take him back to his room and have my way with him but we had a driver waiting and plans for the afternoon. But for that moment, I didn't care. I didn't care who was waiting or who was watching.

We eventually tore ourselves away from each other and proceeded with our afternoon plans to snorkel. The fish were beautiful but what I'll remember about that day was wrapping my legs around him and making out in the waves. Or perhaps it'll be how I had to leave him in the water while his erection diminished, smirking as I made my way across the sand.

When I finally got him alone in his room, we made love and fucked and fucked and made love until he had to get ready for work. It was damn near miraculous he wasn't late since we didn't really know how to do a quickie.

No, really. We didn't. We've even tried once last summer. Still in bed two and a half hours later, we found ourselves laughing at our attempt.

I say we didn't (past tense) know how to have a quickie because we kind of figured it out on my second day there, though perhaps it was mostly because we fucked in the backseat his tiny rental car. Twice. We had been in a hurry to leave that morning and had begrudgingly skipped morning sex and there was clearly no way we were going to make it through a whole day together without fucking even with the gorgeousness of the island trying to distract us. Thank goodness for dark parking lots.

(My apologies to the guy who had to clean the car after we returned it. I wonder if they noticed I squirted all over the seat.)

Although we had an invitation to meet his best friend out, we opted for alone time in a proper bed so we could fuck and play properly.

The rest of the week was a blur of waterfalls, sea turtles, beaches and surf. We drove so many places to see so many beautiful things. I'm glad we have pictures - far too many selfies of us as well as a few shots of the beauty around us - because the memories I will treasure were not of landmarks but of moments.

Sitting on the sea wall watching the black crabs scurry across the rocks below and making up stories about warring crab tribes living on opposing rock groupings.

Using a crowd counter to tally my orgasms and how he snickered each time he heard the click.

Laying on the beach with my head in his lap.

Watching him perform and not being able to stop thinking about how he had looked under me just minutes before.

What the ligature marks on his wrists felt like on my tongue after I'd untied him.

Being constantly distracted by the tiny circles his thumb made with the hand on my thigh as we drove around. Distracted and so aroused.


Watching the sunset over the ocean.

Frolicking naked in a beautiful waterfall while Hando watched and cheered me on. Swimming to the waterfall and then floating away on my back as the pounding of the icy drops on my body became a soft misty caress, then swimming back to the falls and floating away again.
Too many amazing memories to list here.

And yes, there was plenty of sex. Not as much as either of us would have liked, but honestly, if we'd stayed in bed the entire week, I don't know that it would have been enough. That's just who we are. We may never get enough of each other and fucking is simply a priority for us.

What I learned from my week with Hando is that it IS possible for us to be together for more than a couple of hours without fucking. Improbable but possible if we have the beauty of tropical islands to distract us.

Saturday, September 17, 2016

"It's not like I need it anymore" - by my pet object

My pet object recently surprised me with this delicious little morsel of writing. It's a piece from his perspective on the fun with chastity and strap-on play that I've written about in "Lack of dickstraction and my perfect fuchsia dildo" and "'Why do I like it so much?'" 

I just HAD to share it. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

I thrust into Mistress Lilyana yet again with the fuchsia cock she had replaced mine with, feeling the pressure of her orgasm through the base of the dildo against my skin. It was only one of many orgasms she had that afternoon but this one caused a delicious smile to creep across her face. 

She was sated, for now. 

She was sated in a way I could never be capable of, sweat dripped off me as I fucked her to the edge of my own body’s stamina. My own cock was locked in the clear cage it had been locked in all weekend. Smashed against the hard plastic, hopelessly trying to escape it’s prison. Unable to feel anything whatsoever besides the pressure of it’s own frustration.

“My cock is so hard right now,” I exclaimed with a sheepish grin on my face, still breathing heavily. 

“I don’t know why,” she responded with a laugh, missing no small amount of sadistic glee. “Is it confused?” she asked sarcastically. “It’s not like I need it anymore.” 

A rush came over my body as the words exited her mouth. My face turned red and my whole body tingled as a flood of conflicting emotions coursed through my body. Unable to respond my mouth hung open, agape in shock while the corners of my mouth betrayed my true feelings as they simultaneously curled into the slightest of smiles.

Sunday, September 11, 2016

Boys with handles

Something happens to me when I put on my cock. To say I get aggressive might be an understatement. And with every whimper, cry or moan, my aggression grows.

When I'm wearing a strap-on, I can't get deep enough or fuck him hard enough. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to. 

Oh but do I try.

I've found that rope helps. Well, it goes without saying that everything is better with rope BUT I've found that it really helps with pegging. 

How, you may ask? Well, the title of the blog gave my secret away. I give boys handles. Beautifully tied hemp rope handles. 

Most recently, I've tied two different types of handles on two different boys. 

On my pet object, I used a gunslinger harness to give him handles along both his hips. I didn't stop to take pics. I wish I had. That happens sometimes when I'm playing. I'm more into the moment then I am preserving the memory. But this is kind of what it looked like except there were handles on both hips. And he was naked. 

I pulled out two 30 foot lengths of my scarlet hemp rope and watched my pet object's eyes light up. I sat on the edge of my bed and had him stand before me as I added handles to him. Due to the wrapping on the sides, the tie takes a bit longer than others and we both savored every moment.

I'd forgotten how much he enjoyed me tying him up. Or maybe he enjoyed it more this time than others. Or maybe I just happened to notice this time. But he was all subby shy smiles while I wrapped my rope around his waist and thighs. 

When all 60 feet of hemp was securely tied to him, I pushed him face down over the edge of the bed I'd been sitting on and prepped for pegging. 

Although my style of strap-on play might be best characterized as brutal, I'm not a total monster. I lubed him thoroughly and warmed him up a bit before shoving my cock into his ass. 

Okay okay, if I'm being truthful, I gently pushed it in the first time and even let him adjust to it. 

And then I brutally fucked him. 

On Hando, I created handles on the back of chest harness. This time, I remembered to stop and take a picture.

As I pulled out my rope, Hando stood in in front of me and extended his wrists together expectedly.

"Nope. Today I'm giving you handles."

I turned him away from me, reached under his arms in front of him and started wrapping my rope around his chest.

Once I'd completed the harness with wrapped handles, I grabbed the handles firmly, gave him a shove and yanked him back towards me. He gasped a little at the surprise.

"That'll work."

And then I guided him to my dresser mirror so he could look at himself in the mirror.

"Do you see how hot you look in my rope?"

"Yes, ma'am," he almost whispered.

And then I prepped him for pegging before I brutally fucked him.

As much as I enjoy pegging in a missionary position so I can watch their faces, sometimes I just want to unleash my aggressive side and fuck a boy HARD and deep. And that's just what I did.

The rope handles provide the additional grip and leverage I need to get deep. I can pull him onto my cock HARD as I'm thrusting into him. I can easily establish a rhythm.

And it's a great upper body work out. The day after giving my pet object handles, my shoulders were a bit sore because at one point, he'd totally surrendered to become a pile of subby boy goo, almost limp from sensation, and I'd seized the rope handles on his hips and continued fucking him without much of any help from him at all.

He was hole for me to use and I told him so. "Yes, Mistress," he moaned into my mattress.