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.

Thursday, September 1, 2016

The night I found him kneeling for me

"Let yourself in. Undress downstairs and come upstairs to me in nothing but the steel plug," I'd texted Hando as I was getting ready for bed.

Just as I was putting toothpaste on my toothbrush, I heard a soft, "Hey there" from my bedroom. I peeked out of the bathroom to find him kneeling naked, palms on his thighs.

I was surprised and pleased and instantly wet at his thoughtful gesture of kneeling for me without me asking. 

He's knelt for me a few times. Not as often as I'd ask of a seasoned sub. I'm not entirely sure why I don't ask him to kneel for me more often. I love the way he looks up at me and he is just so fucking hot while he's doing it. 

"I just want to look at you a while," I said, sitting on the end of the bed while I removed my makeup with a cloth, relishing the very erotic turn my nightly ritual had taken. I soaked up the display that he presented as we made sexy small talk.

"Come here," I finally beckoned. And he walked on his knees the short distance to where I sat in the bed. I splayed my fingers around his neck as he turned his face up to me for a kiss. I put my lips to his and gently bit the bottom one. He sighed and melted. 

He oozed submissiveness in a way I'd never felt from him before as I explored his neck, shoulders and chest with my fingertips. Or perhaps it was my own headspace. Regardless, his reactions provoked my inner Domme and I felt more powerful than ever as I basked in the yummy subby energy that rolled off of him and enveloped me. 

He ran his hands slowly up my legs under my long sundress. I should have chided him for not asking permission but I couldn't. He was simply seeking more skin to skin contact, as he often does. In doing so, I discovered I was craving his hands on me too. 

I continued to kiss him, pausing for a few moments here and there to nibble on his neck and ears. My fingertips traveled down his chest to his nipples as if drawn there by magnets. With each sigh he melted further, dragging me into the dangerous Domme headspace where I wanted to take full advantage of every morsel of subbiness he had to give. 

I wanted to bite him. I wanted to mark him. I wanted to push him down onto my bed, yank out the butt plug and thrust my cock into him. Instead I scratched him firmly but not firmly enough to leave marks. I wanted to grab his chin, look in his eyes, say something filthy and then smirk while I watched him react to my cruel words. But I didn't. 

"You're fighting it, aren't you?"

"Yes," I admitted.

"Can't you open the door just a little? Let just a little out?"

I didn't respond for a what seemed like a long while. I continued to kiss him and touch him while I contemplated.

"No, I don't think so."

Saturday, August 27, 2016

"Why do I like it so much?"

My new favorite thing is watching the range of emotions on a guy's face as he processes a new kinky experience.

So fucking hot. 

I'm seeing it a lot with Hando as I'm introducing new things to him regularly. And to be honest, now that I know how much it arouses me, sometimes I step things up just to see his reactions. 

I'll never forget how he looked the first time I asked him to kneel for me. The first time I made him suck my cock.

Hando's face is among the most expressive I've ever seen. I'm not sure if it's the fact that he's a performer or what but I love to watch his face when we play. 

Wonder. Delight. Excitement. Bewilderment. Surprise. Confusion. I've watched all of those and more play out across his face in a matter of moments as he processes something new. 

I see a lot of confusion. Brows furrowed for a moment or two before he melts into subbiness. 

It makes me smile. I delight in it. 

When we started down this path in March, one night he tentatively licked my ass completely unprompted. I reveled in him doing it, but I didn't realize the significance until we discussed it later. He knew I enjoyed it, but because he's a self proclaimed germophobe, he couldn't believe he'd done it. 

And he was astounded that he found himself thinking about it a lot and wanted to do it again. 

Then he was away for a few months for work but periodically, he'd articulate his desire to lick my ass. 

"Why do I want it so much?" 

I'd always snicker. And in the beginning, I also explained that he wants to please me and he knows I enjoy it. I'd tell him it's in his nature to please. That it's part of our dynamic. 

Of course it's also naughty as fuck. That has something to do with it. 

It's been a recurring question from him, though less as of late. It's not because he's no longer "leveling up" as rapidly as before though. Of course I'm still enjoying watching the conflicting emotions play out across his face, but I don't hear the question as often. I assumed it was because he knew the answer. That Hando understood his subbiness now. 

So imagine my surprise when, in the middle of an intense scene weekend before last, my pet object, a seasoned sub, blurted out, "Why do I like it so much?"

Of course I laughed. I laughed at his confusion. I laughed at the conflict so clearly written across his adorable face. I laughed at his torment. I laughed at the fact that I'm getting such similar questions from both guys I'm topping.

Not only had my pet object read my blog, he'd heard me mention more than once during conversations that there was a pretty good chance he wouldn't be putting his dick in me. Why would I when I could make him fuck me with my perfect pink dildo? 

I'd locked up his cock within an hour of his arrival. And he stayed locked up all weekend long. 

Of course I teased him about it. I asked him if he remembered how good my pussy felt. I told him he might not ever feel it again.

"Why do I like it so much?" my pet object asked as I came on the large pink dildo strapped above his locked up cock yet again. 

I laughed, of course. 

The truth is, they like it and want it so much because it's very naughty and very humiliating. It's also because they both have a connection with me and they know they're pleasing me. 

It's not enough to know those things though. The conflict continues whether they verbalize it or whether it just plays out across their faces while they process everything. 

And it's so fucking hot for me. 

Saturday, August 20, 2016

The ultimate compliment

"I trust you and your judgement. And you know what I'm ready for and not ready for."

"I do but I LOVE hearing you say that."

"I will do whatever you want."

I marvel at how safe Hando feels with me and how much he trusts me when he knows exactly what I'm capable of. 

He's read my blog. He's read the story the girl wrote about an incredibly brutal scene I did with her - one too intense to post here.

He's seen me deny my pet object. He's even commented on my meanness. 

And although I am usually capable of holding back my RAWR, he's seen me slip into the primal Domme headspace for a few moments. 

It's a place I try not to go with him. He's still so new and I feel more certain than he is that he's not ready for me to let my primal instincts free. He's not ready for the biting, spitting, face slapping let alone the stream of verbal humiliation that seems to flow from my mouth when I really cut loose. 

He knows what I'm capable of. He knows I could focus my brutality on him. In the best case scenario, he knows I could put him into a scene that pushes his limits in an uncomfortable way. 

And yet he completely trusts me. 

Am I worthy of that trust? With each deep breath I take as I fight not to sink deeper into the primal side of my Dommeness when I play with him, with each time I elect not to give voice to the naughty things in my head, as I continue to trust the instincts that have never let me wrong, I know that I am worthy of the trust. 

And yet I'm still amazed that he so completely trusts me. It's the ultimate compliment. 

Sunday, July 31, 2016

Lack of dickstraction and my perfect fuchsia dildo

I had my pet object in my bed in a matter of minutes after his arrival. No D/s play, just two people hungry for each other.

I didn't think about the brand new Holy Trainer 2 chastity device still in the packaging just a few feet away as I enjoyed being wrapped around him. If I had, I'd have probably been a little sad about the idea of locking him up. 

The truth is, I like fucking my subs. I just do. I enjoy connecting that way and physically, I just fucking like it. 

For me, D/s has always been about the sex. And I've always been a little conflicted about chastity. The mindfuck is a delicious but in the end, I still want a deep dicking that can't happen when his cock is locked up. 

Still, I gleefully locked my pet object's cock up not long after we had sex. After all, I had the keys. I could unlock him whenever I wanted, use his cock and then lock him back up again. 

The next day, he served me and two friends poolside. I enjoyed knowing he was collared, locked up in the black panties with SLUT spelled across the ass in rhinestones. I had fun tapping on the plastic encasing his cock and hearing him wince or sigh. Or both. 

Later that night, I helped him into my strap-on harness for the first time. After awkwardly pulling at the various straps, my perfect fuchsia dildo was perfectly position beyond his locked up cock. 

With that fuchsia dildo, he proceeded to give me the deep dicking I deserved. I never missed his cock. Not even a little. 

He was completely focused on me and my pleasure. Once he hit the perfect rhythm, depth and angle, I told him not to stop and then proceeded to have multiple orgasms all over my fuchsia cock. There was no dickstraction on his part because he couldn't feel a thing. 

Actually, the latter part of that last statement is not completely true. Miraculously, he seemed to know exactly when my pussy was pulsing around the fuchsia cock strapped onto his groin. His moans and gasps told me he was actually feeling it. 

Only he totally wasn't. He was just very, very focused on me. Not even a little bit dickstracted. 

I teased him about how good it felt. How my perfectly sized and shaped fuchsia dildo was the perfect cock. I told him I may never need to use his cock again. 

It was the heat of the moment - the kind of moment where something ridiculously hot flows out of my mouth on instinct, completely unplanned.

Sometimes I'm surprised by what comes out of my mouth in times like this. But always, upon examination later, I find my truest thoughts and feelings have been articulated.

In the days after his visit, I considered those words I'd uttered in the heat of the moment and asked myself, did I mean them?

Just like everything else I've said in the heat of the moment, it felt true even when the hotness has mostly subsided.

Does that mean that my days of having pseudo vanilla sex with my pet object are over? Not necessarily.

But as long as my perfect fuchsia dildo is nearby, there's a high probability I'll choose it.

My boy, my pet object

One night while under the influence, Dr Dom / Mr Subby reblogged a rather ridiculous tumblr picture with a rather ridiculous caption left by some random guy. When he reblogged it, he tacked onto the end, "I want to be @mistresslilyana's pet object."

When I saw the post the next day, I struggled to put together his statement, his use of the term 'pet object' and weave it together with the picture posted and the caption posted. There was simply no way to draw any real conclusions from his post at all. 

The kink world is full of interesting labels and terms. However, one that isn't used is 'pet object.'

I teased him about the 'pet object' reference and it became just one the many inside jokes we have. It was also a more serious discussion about what it means to feel like a pet object.

We really don't engage in any remote play and since we don't see each other often, the D/s aspect of our relationship hasn't escalated as rapidly as it might have if we lived closer. Still, after four years, I felt like it was time to take the next step.

I've always had a collar I've used with whomever I'm playing with. It's a very plain, black nylon dog collar I purchased at a pet store. Simple and intentionally devoid of anything that might encourage attachment. Whenever I put it on someone the first time, I always let them know it's a PLAY collar. I want to be very clear it doesn't belong to them nor does any significance go beyond play.

To me, collaring is BDSM marriage. I've never collared anyone before and I'm still not sure I'm ready. However, I felt like Dr Dom / Mr Subby had earned the gift of this own collar so before his last visit, I set about to buy one.

I checked my go to shopping source, Amazon, for collars and settled on a gorgeous black leather collar, thick and padded with pale pink leather and stitched in the same pale pink. Very classy.

The day of his arrival, I found the perfect tag and the machine you use to engrave your own tags at the second pet store I visited. On one side, I had MISTRESS LILYANA'S PET OBJECT engraved upon it. On the other, I used my real name.

I could barely wait to give it to him, but I managed to hold out until I could find a private moment with him the next day while he was serving my friends and me poolside.

He loved it. He wore it pretty much the rest of the day, even in the car. And he looked so fucking hot in it.

I took pictures of him wearing it. I took a close up that showed the engraved tag. And then my phone ate it.

When I told him I was going to blog about it, we agreed it was time to decommission his old nickname, Dr Dom / Mr Subby, and making it official.

So he's now officially dubbed 'pet object.' And he's got the collar to prove it.

Read blogs about Dr. Dom / Mr. Subby (before I changed his alias to 'my pet object')
Read blogs about my pet object

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?"


"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."


"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."


"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: Submissive

Relationship status: open relationship

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?!?"


"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)