Cum and go

 

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Dogs. Their behavior.

Unpredictable at times, it seems.

Nothing is wrong, nothing has happened other than life happening. But that said, I have noticed something of a shift today. Or maybe it was last night, and I didn’t notice. But something is different. I have my suspicions, I’ll write about them here, and maybe my dog will read this post and it will generate a conversation. Okay if it does, okay if it doesn’t. Either way, it won’t really change how I am feeling right now.

My dog had a big, beautiful cum Saturday night. He wasn’t supposed to do that, but he did. And really…..he didn’t even get in trouble for it because it was that big, and it was that beautiful.

We played Saturday night. At the event. The picture in this post is from that scene. I liked the web-like device I had him crawl into as I beat him. He liked that web-like device he  was made to crawl into. It is a simple piece, but I love the way it looks. I caned him good and hard while he lay entangled. It was pretty hot… so much so that he had an orgasm without ejaculation while being caned. I love when that happens… it’s truly an amazing thing.

From that room, with the web bed, we moved to another room. In this room were no fewer than 26 queen sized mattresses. They filled the entire space of that room…..wall to wall mattresses. Some were stacked 4 mattresses deep, others two deep. It was a Minecraft of mattresses, all covered in clean, white sheets. The point of this room is that couples can enter the space and occupy a stacked pile and have a sense of separateness from the other piles….the other coupled couples.

I chose our pile, and we started to slowly sink into one another. We didn’t fuck, we didn’t rape or beat. We made sweet, penetrating love. I think what turned us on was a myriad of things. The earlier beating. The naked time in a group setting. The collar. The kink that surrounded us. All of it, really. But I do know for me that I got pretty turned on by knowing we were in room with 3 other couples who were sharing their own versions of intimacy. I could hear the love making all around me, but because of the different heights of stacked mattresses, I could not really see what was going on around me. If I looked (and I did), I could see a stockinged leg or an arching foot, but that was really about all.

My boy and I were really into one another in that moment. It was sweet and tender and it was driven by our hunger for one another. I used my boy and had a big cum as he pushed deeply inside me. My cumming pushed him over the edge. As my orgasm intensified, it grab at him… squeezing, pulling, clutching. It was more than he could bear and he could hold on no longer. He spilled. He spilled a lot. He spilled the contents of 45 days of not spilling. His cum was like my cum… hard, hungry, happy. We lay gathered in one another and smiled. There would be no punishment for this, because it was perfect and I was happy and that was all that needed to matter.

I don’t know if it is biology or psychology but damn… I have come to my conclusion: Every time my boy has an ejaculation, things are different for at least a week. There seems to be something about his deep and gathering hunger when he is denied cumming for prolonged amounts of time that make him become more compliant. More submissive. More slave-like. More proper. More… I dunno… more everything. It is as though that once he has that biological release, he has a psychological one too. I can’t say that I like it all that much. It can be confusing. Unpredictable. I can’t say that I am a big fan of this. I like him to be consistent. I already cornered the market on inconsistency; that ship sailed some time ago. I should know – I am the Captain of it, after all.

So, here we are… in a quiet moment, in a quiet month. It was an excellent weekend, it really was. No complaints, but rather observations. Last night had me feeling withdrawn. He seemed a bit snippy. Short. As though he forgot his manners. I pull and prod at him all the time to keep his mind and mouth open because he has the propensity to get too quiet sometimes. We are living proof that opposites attract, and his quiet overall as a personality type is something I have become used to. So, when the quiet gets quieter, it pushes me beyond my comfort zone. Not too far from it, but enough so that I withdraw a bit and wait for his balls to start to fill again. Because when his balls become full, his mind steadies and his submission rises. That is what I am used to, that is what he aspires to. It’s just weird to be right next to someone and to feel like they are miles away.

I shrug. This too shall pass.

Birthday orgy, hold the cake.

 

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I love parties!

I love when other people have birthdays!

And I love birthday parties!!

That is exactly what we had yesterday, on a Wednesday, at 4pm, in a home, in a town, on a Main Street. All because the stars aligned, the adults were willing and able, and someone had a birthday.

It was perfect, really. Totally and completely perfect for a last minute plan.

It started a few days before when three exceptional women got together to socialize, catch up, visit, share, laugh, and maybe even plan. All three of us are kinky to varying degrees. All three of us struck me as beautiful, confident, strong, centered, happy, grounded, solid. That is the absolute best kind of woman. Money cannot buy that kind of sexy.

So the three of us met. We drank wine, ate food, and talked about getting together to celebrate the birthday of the husband of my friend who was sitting across the table from me. We talked about a big birthday blowjob celebration. Could we pull something like that off?? Could we, in only a few days’ notice, with many of us being scatted across the southern part of the state??

As fate would have it, all of us were available on the appointed day, and I felt certain that I could get my two boys to leave work a bit early and join the festivities. I needed them and wanted them to be there. Their participation was paramount because I am not exactly the “down on my knees” kind of gal. I like telling others to get on their knees, that’s the key difference. I needed my boys to be good cocksuckers on this day, and to pour the wine and put out the food. They would be busy, and I needed and wanted them to be all of those things.

The birthday plan was to give the birthday boy an orgy of blowjobs. To lavish birthday attention on his birthday cock. Three, maybe four lovely adults climbing their naked bodies over and atop one another in order to take turns worshiping birthday cock.

Imagine your wife (if you have a cock that you like to be sucked) picking you up from work, telling you that you are  going to make a brief stop before heading home, bringing you to a private home where are four naked, smiling lovers await you, and you doing nothing but lying back on the sofa, getting your cock sucked? That is the kind of day this man had. A good day, a birthday kind of day, with a group blow job to top it all off. The icing on the cake, as it were.

I personally did not suck cock; I was the only one who didn’t, but I did give it a few smiling  kisses at the end.  I actually have my own personal, private play date later today. But yesterday, I watched and grinned and played the roll of conductor to the sex symphony that lay splayed out before me. At one point I felt mesmerized as the naked, beautiful, joyous, touching friends all moved their bare bodies on and around one another, while the birthday boy threw his head back in groaning, touching ecstasy.

We live on that main street I mentioned. The house was cozy, warm, soft lighting, big leather couch. Candles, music, smiles, laughter, happiness filled the air.  Outside the bay of windows was all of the main street traffic, filled with people driving past, heading home, having no idea what was taking place a few feet away in an ordinary house with extraordinary people on the inside. I looked at my boy john in all is naked glory, watching the pleasure on his face as the cock he was sucking was happily familiar to him. I watched troy as he embarked on an experience that was new to him, and I could see by looking at his face that he was living the stuff of dreams.

Does this sort of thing happen to regular people, in Anytown, USA? It does. It happens in our town, and I love that it does. It doesn’t happen often enough, but it happens, and that makes me very happy.

At the end, when the birthday boy had his candle blown with a little help from his friends (hahaha…couldn’t resist that one!), we sat around the big pub style table, eating and drinking and talking. I looked around at the six of us, and it struck me that all the women at this point were clothed, and all the men were naked. It was the perfect moment to a perfect afternoon. I don’t know if others delighted in that image as much as I did, and it doesn’t matter, but I captured that photo in my mind, and it is seared within me. It is how I like life to be. How wonderful it could happen! How lucky we are.

And how much I love a good party!

 

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t time and cowering

Heart shaped owie

Heart shaped owie

Last night’s dinner was a happy success. Date number 1 is now going to be referred to as “t”. I might change this later on, but for now, “t” will suffice.

“t” was on time and dressed in shirt and tie, just as instructed. Both boy toys were given the same instructions, and both looked incredibly dashing.  He met us at the door, and I could tell he had some nervous but excited energy about him. I smiled at this. I had a good feeling that he and my boy were going to hit it off, and they appeared to do just that.

We got a corner table in the back. Not one I would normally seek or even approve of (no one puts baby in the corner, remember??) but it seemed appropriate.

I had instructed each boy toy to bring with them three to five questions that they would present to the other. They each wrote down five things they wanted to know about the other. The list also included one thing they wanted to share with the other regarding something they were concerned about. An example could be, “I am worried about pain, and how much I can tolerate”. That sort of thing.

We each ordered a big, lovely cocktail and that helped set the stage. All three of us are foodies and specialty cocktail people, so it was a good platform form which to start chatting. The tally of similar interests what significant, and talking was easy. We filled the minutes as the minutes turned to hours. Every gap was filled.

Our talk was largely vanilla. I did not want to scare him off. I know he was deeply nervous but as the night progressed, he admitted that his anxiety was waning. He was enjoying himself, as we all seemed to be.

I am not going to say much more, except that I did have to keep sexy and evil thoughts at bay during certain points of the evening. t would be talking, maybe something about work, and in the privacy of my mind, I really wanted to see him in my kitchen, naked, with a gag in his mouth, doing some cooking or cleaning. Nothing major, nothing to scare him off, but certain enough to make sure he knows who runs the show.

It was a great evening. I am pleased.

I don’t know if john is all that pleased, though. Not with dinner, but with what followed dinner. I am not sure what got into me, but when we got home, he sort of pushed upon me the seventh fucking of the day, and I got a bit rough with him in return. I needed to hear his whimpering and begging to make sure he knew who really was in charge. It’s me, in case there is any doubt. I was rough on him. I beat  him for a while, simply because I wanted to. I made sure he spent some moments cowering because I wanted him to cower for a bit. Not too many moments, but some.

The photo that accompanies this post is a mark I left on his body. My mouth put it there. I like how it looked.

Even in our consensual pain, there is love.