Today, I went over to RHF's place. And hit his girlfriend, Columbia, with various floggers and paddles - which was excellent practice. She's a lovely bottom - more responsive than the Cloaked Norseman. Then, after my arm was tired, and RHF had cooled her down with judiciously applied ice, I bit her. Hot damn. I am hesitant and very much still finding my way with regard to impact play, when I'm on the giving/topping end. But when it come to biting and hair-pulling, that I can do, confidently and joyfully, given an enthusiastic subject. And Columbia was quite enthusiastic. I learned, in college, that there are several boys who melt into a little puddle when you firmly grasp the hair at the nape of their neck. I learned that these same boys tend to make very pretty noises when you sink your teeth into their shoulders. Oh, I love that. I love the rush, knowing I'm awakening those pretty, pain-filled pleasures in them. I looked at Columbia, nekkid on the cross, and relished the thought of those shoulders, bare to do with what I pleased. I wrapped my hand in her jet hair, and pulled, tight and firm. I bit into the top of her shoulder, above her collarbone, wide and hard. And I felt the protectiveness well up in me, the caring. The profound knowledge that I have responsibility for this creature, that she's trusting me to hurt her, to push her, and to bring her through safely. I stared in wonder at her hair, the curves of her back and ass, open to me. When I top, that's what I want to feel. That wonder, at the gift I'm given. That enthusiasm for giving sensation. The profound satisfaction in the care and safety I provide.
I am, I believe, still primarily a bottom. But it was interesting to find what triggers the top in me, what pushes me to lose myself in action rather than reaction. And to observe how I top, what my goals and feelings about it are. Mm.
After I left Columbia and RHF's place, Apollo and I went to meet Church Goth Boy, hereafter Eldil, and his wife, hereafter Pomona, for dinner and gaming. Pizza, wine, ice cream and Munchkin made for a lovely night...then Eldil took me to his room (not like that you perverse people) to see the flogger he offered to loan to me (he found out, over lunch one day, that I was kinky and eager to learn to perform the skills I enjoy receiving). It's pretty. It's purple, and not too light, not too harsh. Not quite as spongy and thuddy as I'd like - but it'll do very well for a practice flogger.
Then he asked me, "How do you feel about collars?" "Um, well, I've only worn one once, for a very short time, when I was at my friend's house and she was showing me, very informally, all her tools...but they're something I'd like to explore..." Next thing I know, he's pulling a very plain black leather collar out of the closet, and telling me to turn around and lift my hair. As he fastens the collar and locks it, I feel the weight of subspace start to descend. Eldil is not a playmate. Since, to my knowledge, he is not poly, he will never be a playmate. As such, I should probably not let him put a collar on me again, even so informally. The weight descended, and my latent attraction to him rose. He commented on the fact that it fit me perfectly, where it's not quite right for Pomona, and proceeded to remark that I now had something new to wear to the upcoming fetish event.
"Oh...er, I don't want to appear as though I'm actually collared," I said. Really...I don't want to look as though I'm off-limits - that might spoil potential fun! "Well, you could turn the collar around so that the D-ring is out of sight, or you could attach a chain to the D-ring, then attach it to your own wrist, showing that you own yourself." My immediate reaction to this was, "That's what a fluffy sub would do! Someone who just wants to wear the pretties, not walk the walk that goes with them." But I've been thinking. I really like the idea, at this point in my exploration, of the collar, of my collar being first and foremost about my sovereignty over myself. My right to say where and how and to whom I give myself (of course, this is tied, at a higher level, to spirituality, with my first binding and commitment being to Deity - and I give myself in accordance with Her wishes for me). When I put it on myself, I am signaling that I am in control. When I permit someone else to put my collar on me (if I permit it - I have not yet decided), I have given that control willingly into their hands for a fixed time, a scene. I am not ready to commit my collar into the control of any one person, any one lover. Granted, once offered, any lover to whom it is offered will have the option to use it or not, as they see fit...but they are not the sole owners/users of my collar.
I feel, on some level, that I'm misusing the symbol that is the collar by making it about my own control and sovereignty (under Deity, of course). This, though, stems more from my fear of public opinion and what others will think about "that sub who owns herself" or "that sub who carries the key to her own collar" than about any personal objections. Hm. I'd appreciate thoughts on this.
On the note of personal sovereignty, a word about the Magician. In the midst of my kinky exploration, there is RHF and my Lovely Long Distance Friend/Mentor who are very much helping me explore what my submissive side is all about, helping me feel out my boundaries for giving up control, and helping me relish the sensation of surrender. By contrast, the Magician doesn't play power games. They don't interest or amuse him. He is all about sensation, and, more relevantly, about asking for what you want. In that sense, he is all about personal sovereignty and owning your own desires. And while it might be strange that I care so much for such diametrically opposed relationships, I care for them precisely because they are so different. They are causing me to grow in equally important, wonderful ways. RHF and My Mentor push me to learn about endurance, about giving up control, about taking what I'm given, and serving another's pleasure. The Magician pushes me to name my own desire, to search myself and ask boldly for what I want. He pushes me to find my voice, so often silenced in arousal, to give words to the longings in my heart and cunt. I am so very grateful to have this sort of balance in my life, in my exploration.
Showing posts with label biting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label biting. Show all posts
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Monday, June 2, 2008
In Which Joy Goes To A Party
So, I'm not fortunate enough to live in/around NYC, where sex parties are sort-of normal. Where people like Jefferson and Adam have Those Parties on a semi-regular basis. However, there is, in my local community, a couple who throws one of Those Parties (tm) every so often - every three to six months, depending. And they had one on Saturday.
Originally, when I heard about this (from the husband, hereafter Hedonist), I thought "Wow! That's a great opportunity to get Apollo out into this community...let him at least see some of what I've been enjoying." Because, as Hedonist explained to me, the parties are low pressure, high on consent. No one will be pressured to "participate" at all, much less to do anything beyond their comfort zone. And, unlike Jefferson and Adam's parties, He and Shedonist's parties are really Parties At Which Sex And BDSM Happen rather than Sex And BDSM Parties. Granted, most folks there are there for the sex-and-bdsm factor, to one degree or another...but you could also keep your clothes on all night and just stand around the bonfire talking. Of course, you might be talking to a naked girl...but you could just talk. So, I thought this would be a perfect opportunity to allow Apollo some exposure to the kink/non-monogamous community. We'd go together, observe, talk, and not play unless we both agreed to. It would be wonderful.
Too bad Apollo's job had him working this weekend. Fuck. Working both Saturday and Sunday, even, so no chance of even going for a bit, early on. Curses. And I had really been looking forward to it. He and Shedonist are wonderful people and hosts, so any chance to go to their lovely abode and partake of their hospitality was an opportunity I wanted to take. Especially as the Magician had offered to go with me, and my friend Ceres had urged me to go with her.
So I asked. Making it very clear that, since we had been thinking of this as an "us" event - something to give Apollo a chance to get integrated into What It Is I Am Doing - that I would absolutely Not Go if he had any objections. But he didn't. Granted, he wished he could go - but saw no reason for this to hold me back. So I went.
It was, according to all outside opinions, pretty tame as Those Parties (tm) go. There was no fucking on the coffee table, or around the bonfire (though, I'm sure the upstairs beds and couches saw some play). There was no blood drawn in the BDSM room. But, damn, it was a good time. As soon as the BDSM room was set up - the cross for impact play and the bench so the Magician could use his violet wand - I got a Crash Course In Topping, with Hedonist as the instructor and the Cloaked Norseman as my bottom. The last time I had been at He and Shedonist's abode, CN had informed me, in a voice that brooked no dispute, that at some point I needed to whip him. He evidently has a thing for being people's First Time Topping experiment. So I went through the gamut of instruments - the rubber flogger, to the deerskin, to the slapper, to the crop - and back to the deerskin, finishing with the bullhide flogger. It was fun. Not as fun as being hit with those things, but it was fun. I think I would have preferred fewer spectators for my first time topping - but so it goes. I wasn't aware that I had the ability to kindly request that they get the hell out of the room during my scene - but now I know. CN was very patient with me, giving his preferences when asked and letting me know how I was doing. I found the deerhide flogger to be very heavy - it has a helluva handle on it - and the weight combined with the length of it made it very difficult for me to control. Which resulted in quite a bit of wraparound. But, as first times go, it was fairly good, with only the requisite bit of Awkward.
After that, CN and I cuddled and bit (well, he bit me) while the Magician finished tormenting his first victim of the evening - a lovely, slender girl who seemed like she could come from the electricity alone. When she finally left the bench, the Magician asked if I'd like to take my turn on the cross. But of course! I stripped out of my shirt and bra, and mounted the cross, sliding my hands into the fantastic cuffs. He began with his rabbit skin flogger, which I'd never experienced before. Oh, it was delicious. I was a bit amazed at the satisfying amount of force - not pain, but force - which it can deliver. When he switched to the deerskin, I had been hovering on the edge - but now I flew. Off, off into the land of Liminality, of Incoherence. Oh, the steady beating on my back, the rhythm giving the pain a trance-like quality. The occasional, much sharper blows, disrupting, while at the same time deepening, that liminal state. I opened my eyes, once, to see a face below mine. The Goddamn Gorgeous Asian Man that I met at the fetish night was present at the party. I had seen him downstairs, talked a bit - he remembered me - and had observed me topping CN. He was standing, looking at me with a slight grin. I believe he observed that I like being hit much more than I like hitting, and I think I nodded. I don't know. Then, his face was replaced by CN's. CN thrust his hand into my hair, pulling firmly, and asked if I was enjoying myself. "Yes," I said, "very very much." "Very very much?" CN queried. "Yes. Very very much," I repeated. "Good," he said. Their faces. In that state, seeing their faces while being transported by the pain and the rhythm...was shockingly powerful. The intimidating beauty and strangeness (as I don't really know him at all) of the GGAM sent me reeling, spinning with mingled delight and confusion. The bearded face of CN, framed by his looong, soft locks made my breath catch, and his voice sent me further, further Out There into the stratosphere. I want him, very badly. The predatory look in his eyes right before he bites me - oh, it makes me tremble. And the force of that desire combined with the flogging to put me Right Out of normal modes of functioning. When I finally came down off the cross, the Magician cuddled and helped me ground down (a bit, at least. Enough to function. :P ). And it was sweetly lovely to come down into his arms - a safe, stable place, still filled with desire.
The rest of the night was a melange of people and experiences. There were continual bites from CN, kisses and hair-pulling from the Magician, good coffee, and roasted marshmallows. There were cool girls to talk to, and the Magician's redheaded friend who asked very nicely for access to my breasts - and was most gracious when I told him that I wasn't sure about that, as I didn't really know him at all. Though, if his attentions to my neck and ears are anything to go by, I think I may acquiesce to his request the next time he makes it. On a trip to the upstairs bathroom, in the very wee hours of the morning, I was ambushed by CN. We ended up fooling around on the breezeway above the living room, since the upstairs couches and beds were already taken by other partygoers. Not for the first time that weekend, I cursed the fact that the moon has a cycle, and so do I - and I was On It. So it was hands only. Probably for the best...but, oh, did I mention how much I want this man (Did I mention that he wears a kilt?? Hot!!)? Not that I particularly want intercourse with him, but simply that I want to be able to fuckin' roll around naked with him. And the really neat thing about this is that several times, when I had my hands up under that kilt of his (Oh yes. That's right. It's true about what they don't wear beneath their kilts.), people came wandering upstairs, mainly for the bathroom. But, it was ok, because it was one of Those Parties. And being "caught" at Those Parties...is ok. It was still a little embarrassing for me...a little strange...but neat to know that no one was judging me for it or thinking that I should "get a room."
When we finally detached ourselves from one another, I looked at the time and realized that I would not be getting back home (I had ridden with the Magician because it's out in BFE and gas is expensive and I don't do well with finding places in the dark) until after Apollo had gotten up and gone to work. Oops. I had not realized that this would happen. Had not realized just how late/early it was. So, I called Apollo and apologized profusely. Fortunately, he was very understanding, and told me not to worry about it. By the time we finally got back to the Magician's place, I did not feel competent to drive, even the short distance to my home, and dawn was breaking. So, I burrowed down in the Magician's bed and...well, we did eventually sleep. But, oh, it was pretty before then. Again, I cursed my period. But even so, it was beautifully fun. And the Magician...now, him, I want intercourse with. As much as he turns me on and makes me come, I also feel very comfortable, safe with him. He's lovely and patient - except when he's passionately telling me just how much he wants to fuck me. But he wouldn't ever try unless I told him it was ok, that I had permission. And knowing that makes it incredibly hot - knowing that he wants me so badly, but will wait until it's truly alright, expressing desire but not pushing. It makes me want him even more.
In conclusion, my right arm and shoulder muscles are very sore, my body is spotted with bruises and marks, and I slept twelve hours last night. It was a good, good weekend.
Originally, when I heard about this (from the husband, hereafter Hedonist), I thought "Wow! That's a great opportunity to get Apollo out into this community...let him at least see some of what I've been enjoying." Because, as Hedonist explained to me, the parties are low pressure, high on consent. No one will be pressured to "participate" at all, much less to do anything beyond their comfort zone. And, unlike Jefferson and Adam's parties, He and Shedonist's parties are really Parties At Which Sex And BDSM Happen rather than Sex And BDSM Parties. Granted, most folks there are there for the sex-and-bdsm factor, to one degree or another...but you could also keep your clothes on all night and just stand around the bonfire talking. Of course, you might be talking to a naked girl...but you could just talk. So, I thought this would be a perfect opportunity to allow Apollo some exposure to the kink/non-monogamous community. We'd go together, observe, talk, and not play unless we both agreed to. It would be wonderful.
Too bad Apollo's job had him working this weekend. Fuck. Working both Saturday and Sunday, even, so no chance of even going for a bit, early on. Curses. And I had really been looking forward to it. He and Shedonist are wonderful people and hosts, so any chance to go to their lovely abode and partake of their hospitality was an opportunity I wanted to take. Especially as the Magician had offered to go with me, and my friend Ceres had urged me to go with her.
So I asked. Making it very clear that, since we had been thinking of this as an "us" event - something to give Apollo a chance to get integrated into What It Is I Am Doing - that I would absolutely Not Go if he had any objections. But he didn't. Granted, he wished he could go - but saw no reason for this to hold me back. So I went.
It was, according to all outside opinions, pretty tame as Those Parties (tm) go. There was no fucking on the coffee table, or around the bonfire (though, I'm sure the upstairs beds and couches saw some play). There was no blood drawn in the BDSM room. But, damn, it was a good time. As soon as the BDSM room was set up - the cross for impact play and the bench so the Magician could use his violet wand - I got a Crash Course In Topping, with Hedonist as the instructor and the Cloaked Norseman as my bottom. The last time I had been at He and Shedonist's abode, CN had informed me, in a voice that brooked no dispute, that at some point I needed to whip him. He evidently has a thing for being people's First Time Topping experiment. So I went through the gamut of instruments - the rubber flogger, to the deerskin, to the slapper, to the crop - and back to the deerskin, finishing with the bullhide flogger. It was fun. Not as fun as being hit with those things, but it was fun. I think I would have preferred fewer spectators for my first time topping - but so it goes. I wasn't aware that I had the ability to kindly request that they get the hell out of the room during my scene - but now I know. CN was very patient with me, giving his preferences when asked and letting me know how I was doing. I found the deerhide flogger to be very heavy - it has a helluva handle on it - and the weight combined with the length of it made it very difficult for me to control. Which resulted in quite a bit of wraparound. But, as first times go, it was fairly good, with only the requisite bit of Awkward.
After that, CN and I cuddled and bit (well, he bit me) while the Magician finished tormenting his first victim of the evening - a lovely, slender girl who seemed like she could come from the electricity alone. When she finally left the bench, the Magician asked if I'd like to take my turn on the cross. But of course! I stripped out of my shirt and bra, and mounted the cross, sliding my hands into the fantastic cuffs. He began with his rabbit skin flogger, which I'd never experienced before. Oh, it was delicious. I was a bit amazed at the satisfying amount of force - not pain, but force - which it can deliver. When he switched to the deerskin, I had been hovering on the edge - but now I flew. Off, off into the land of Liminality, of Incoherence. Oh, the steady beating on my back, the rhythm giving the pain a trance-like quality. The occasional, much sharper blows, disrupting, while at the same time deepening, that liminal state. I opened my eyes, once, to see a face below mine. The Goddamn Gorgeous Asian Man that I met at the fetish night was present at the party. I had seen him downstairs, talked a bit - he remembered me - and had observed me topping CN. He was standing, looking at me with a slight grin. I believe he observed that I like being hit much more than I like hitting, and I think I nodded. I don't know. Then, his face was replaced by CN's. CN thrust his hand into my hair, pulling firmly, and asked if I was enjoying myself. "Yes," I said, "very very much." "Very very much?" CN queried. "Yes. Very very much," I repeated. "Good," he said. Their faces. In that state, seeing their faces while being transported by the pain and the rhythm...was shockingly powerful. The intimidating beauty and strangeness (as I don't really know him at all) of the GGAM sent me reeling, spinning with mingled delight and confusion. The bearded face of CN, framed by his looong, soft locks made my breath catch, and his voice sent me further, further Out There into the stratosphere. I want him, very badly. The predatory look in his eyes right before he bites me - oh, it makes me tremble. And the force of that desire combined with the flogging to put me Right Out of normal modes of functioning. When I finally came down off the cross, the Magician cuddled and helped me ground down (a bit, at least. Enough to function. :P ). And it was sweetly lovely to come down into his arms - a safe, stable place, still filled with desire.
The rest of the night was a melange of people and experiences. There were continual bites from CN, kisses and hair-pulling from the Magician, good coffee, and roasted marshmallows. There were cool girls to talk to, and the Magician's redheaded friend who asked very nicely for access to my breasts - and was most gracious when I told him that I wasn't sure about that, as I didn't really know him at all. Though, if his attentions to my neck and ears are anything to go by, I think I may acquiesce to his request the next time he makes it. On a trip to the upstairs bathroom, in the very wee hours of the morning, I was ambushed by CN. We ended up fooling around on the breezeway above the living room, since the upstairs couches and beds were already taken by other partygoers. Not for the first time that weekend, I cursed the fact that the moon has a cycle, and so do I - and I was On It. So it was hands only. Probably for the best...but, oh, did I mention how much I want this man (Did I mention that he wears a kilt?? Hot!!)? Not that I particularly want intercourse with him, but simply that I want to be able to fuckin' roll around naked with him. And the really neat thing about this is that several times, when I had my hands up under that kilt of his (Oh yes. That's right. It's true about what they don't wear beneath their kilts.), people came wandering upstairs, mainly for the bathroom. But, it was ok, because it was one of Those Parties. And being "caught" at Those Parties...is ok. It was still a little embarrassing for me...a little strange...but neat to know that no one was judging me for it or thinking that I should "get a room."
When we finally detached ourselves from one another, I looked at the time and realized that I would not be getting back home (I had ridden with the Magician because it's out in BFE and gas is expensive and I don't do well with finding places in the dark) until after Apollo had gotten up and gone to work. Oops. I had not realized that this would happen. Had not realized just how late/early it was. So, I called Apollo and apologized profusely. Fortunately, he was very understanding, and told me not to worry about it. By the time we finally got back to the Magician's place, I did not feel competent to drive, even the short distance to my home, and dawn was breaking. So, I burrowed down in the Magician's bed and...well, we did eventually sleep. But, oh, it was pretty before then. Again, I cursed my period. But even so, it was beautifully fun. And the Magician...now, him, I want intercourse with. As much as he turns me on and makes me come, I also feel very comfortable, safe with him. He's lovely and patient - except when he's passionately telling me just how much he wants to fuck me. But he wouldn't ever try unless I told him it was ok, that I had permission. And knowing that makes it incredibly hot - knowing that he wants me so badly, but will wait until it's truly alright, expressing desire but not pushing. It makes me want him even more.
In conclusion, my right arm and shoulder muscles are very sore, my body is spotted with bruises and marks, and I slept twelve hours last night. It was a good, good weekend.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
"But the May Day is the Great Day"
But, really. It's fuckin' Beltane. And I don't care if you celebrated it on May 1st or May 3rd or are waiting till tomorrow - whenever you celebrate it, remember that It Is A Season, so we've got till Litha for all this hotwethoneysweetsex-energy.
My Beltane - Let Me Show You It:
Wednesday, April 3oth -
I went and watched Firefly ("War Stories" and "Trash", for those Browncoats out there) with the Magician and his roommate. I had been promised a Good White Russian (my hands-down favorite mixed drink) in exchange for a Good Back Rub. Mmm, liquor drinks. After the drink and back rub, there was cuddling. And my First in a Long Time handjob-to-completion - I'm out of the habit with Apollo...we normally just get to fucking after a little bit. I get so neurotic over giving pleasure - it's like I'm afraid I've forgotten how. But it was a goodness. As are the Magician's soft hands and sweet nails.
Thursday, May 1st -
I went out a-wandering around my neighborhood, making a clover chain to the Goddess, admiring Her loveliness and re-committing myself to Her work. Later that evening, I had drinks with my Victorian Lit class. After that, I went home and jumped on Apollo. Because yes.
Friday, May 2nd -
Acted as a chaperon for the alternative prom that my church was sponsoring for the GLBTQ kids in the area from 7-9. What amazing clothes! I should've been queer in high school...alas, alack. I felt really wonderful about helping to provide a safe space for these kids to dance and have a good time - and so VERY pleased that my church was so supportive. After that, I headed over to the club for the Voltaire show. It was my first Voltaire show, and hot damn. That man. Would let him fuck me six ways to Sunday. I already knew he was clever, much like his historical, satirical counterpart...but damn. The Magician showed up, and Church Goth Boy (CGB) was there with his wonderful wife. My friend Ceres brought her middle-school-aged daughter and her daughter's friend - and they were terribly cute in their excitement and embarrassment. Also, about half of the normal RHPS cast was there...so I was wondering who the hell was working the show. I think the highlights of the night were his parody of the Dresden Dolls' "Coin Operated Boy" as "Coin Operated Goy", the Star Trek song about how Data is "fully functional...and anatomically correct," and his final encore song. He introduced this song by saying that it was not one of his...but a song from a movie which he felt had definitely influenced him, and probably most of us, in becoming the perverse people we are today. The light was coming on at this point, but I didn't dare hope. He continued to say that we should sing the words if we knew them...and the other words, if we knew them. HA! And he began:
"Micheal Rainer was ill the day the earth stood still
and he told us where we stand! ("On our feet!" "On your knees!")"
Ahhh. The Rocky folks in the audience supplied the (fucking, sucking) callback lines, and it was wonderful.
Saturday, May 3rd -
Got up and went to the Magician's for breakfast (ok, brunch) and hanging out. I had told him, last night, that when we hung out today, he owed me a back rub this time. This back rub ended up with me topless on his black satiny sheets - which, let me just say, is a luxurious experience. There were nails and hair-pulling (ahh), and my hand on his cock (an observation: the more familiar and varied your experience with genitals are, the more attractive they look on their own merits. I don't think that before Wednesday night I had ever actively thought "What a pretty cock."). After he came, we cuddled, me still in jeans, him nekkid. Laying there, just being in contact, was lovely, luscious. But I was starting to ache for more. On Wednesday, I had initiated the taking-off of pants. I was hoping, quietly, that this time would see a reciprocation of that. But part of the Magician's charm and beauty is that he doesn't push. He has Patience. So, I lay there stewing in desire before finally working up the chutzpah to ask him for another bite, at least. He cheerfully obliged, staying to run his hands, his fingers over my breasts, tweaking and pulling. Eventually, his nails crept to the border of my pants, slipping under, slipping around. Then slipping over my jeans, pressing between my legs until I gasped.
"So, um, I guess this might be a good time to have the 'rules and boundaries' conversation," he said.
"Yeah...well...my boundaries are pretty flexible. I have standing permission for...pretty much whatever I want to do. I would want to check with Apollo before we have intercourse, if we get to that point, but that's it. Oh, and...well...I guess you should know that it generally takes me a long while to be comfortable giving oral."
"Ok. Well, you get to set the pace, so that's fine."
Then the conversation dissolved into the movement of hands, hands down the front of my jeans, hands helping me remove my jeans. Fingers pressing through my undies as I spasmed on the bed - so gentle, yet so effective. Really. I...I sometimes despair of a partner's manual clitoral stimulation being truly orgasmic, but my faith is hereby renewed.
"Are you always so responsive, or am I just special?"
"You're special, and I'm always this responsive," I grinned, "I do tend to prefer penetration to clitoral stimulation..."
"Well, if that's how you respond to clitoral stimulation and you prefer penetration...I'm not sure if I can keep up with your moving."
"Mm. Well, honestly, you're better than most. And besides, I figured those nails would make penetration pretty difficult anyway."
"You just have to be careful. It is possible." And yes, yes it was possible. And beautiful. And utterly...wow. I came down, slowly, walking to my car, clutching my prayer beads, grounding into them.
From there, I headed off to Ceres's place for the Beltane ritual and party. As usual, Pagan Standard Time was in full effect...so the ritual started an hour later than it was supposed to. But it was lovely. I started in my cranberry colored robes, and read to the participants about Shadow and Bast, and hot, feline sex. Then I led them into guided meditation to meet their Wild Love - the personification of their desires and passions. While they were in meditation, I slipped out of my robes so that when they opened their eyes, they saw me in fishnets, black underwear, my crimson corset, and my knee-high boots. We're talking transformation here. :)
Afterwards, we poured drinks and got ready to watch Secretary. Before we got the movie in, however, I found myself chatting with Ceres's friend, the Amazon, and her girl - a beautiful, newly transitioning girl, Kwan Yin. At some point, Kwan Yin remarked that it would be really hot if the Amazon and I made out. Of course, I began blushing furiously, and asked if she was serious. The Amazon gave me her best "come fuck me" look, and Kwan Yin assured me that she was, indeed, serious.
"But...the boys are watching. I don't know that I want to put on a show..."
"Why the fuck not? Who the hell cares, really?"
Well, when you put it like that...I edged towards her, and she extended her arms. And her lips, woman's lips, soft and succulent. Strong passion and soft body. Lips creeping to the neck, my shivers beginning. Kwan Yin touches my shoulder, and offers me her lips too. I kiss, oh, I kiss. My hands weave into her hair, and she responds. She, too, finds my neck, finds my shudder.
"You're so much fun," they agree, "You're so easy." I am easy, that way. Easy to please, easy to arouse. I like it that way.
We've formed a pile of arms and legs and hands - making out on the floor. I don't remember that the boys are there. And they are there, watching. But it doesn't matter. All that matters are their lips and their hands in my hair. Amazon gets up for a moment, and returns, saying:
"Ceres has cleared off her bed...I mean, no expectations, but we could take this in there...it'd be more comfortable and more private."
"Let me call my boyfriend," I say. Apollo gives me his full blessing, and I join them on Ceres's bed.
"I don't know how I feel, " Amazon says, "about having sex with you. Or about Kwan Yin having sex with you. But I definitely want to play with your breasts." Oh, that's fiiine by me. Beautiful. She undoes my corset, slow and careful, praising the softness of my skin, the luminescence of me, the responsiveness of my nerves. Kwan Yin is at my mouth, and what kisses! I am confused, though, when Amazon goes for my undies and fishnets.
"Wait...what constitutes 'sex'?"
"Oh, I don't count hands."
"Excellent!" And it was. Friendly and passionate and gorgeous. I watched them in ecstasy, kissing them while they went down on each other. I put my fingers inside my second woman, ever, and felt the wonder of clenching vaginal muscles. I felt their fingers inside me, heavenly, heavenly. Kwan Yin, merciful lady that she is, was fingering us both, at one point. I clutched them in my passion, and embraced them in theirs.
I had only met them that day. And still, it was sacred. Still, it was holy. Still, it was my Beltane.
My Beltane Bliss, Let Me Show You It.
My Beltane - Let Me Show You It:
Wednesday, April 3oth -
I went and watched Firefly ("War Stories" and "Trash", for those Browncoats out there) with the Magician and his roommate. I had been promised a Good White Russian (my hands-down favorite mixed drink) in exchange for a Good Back Rub. Mmm, liquor drinks. After the drink and back rub, there was cuddling. And my First in a Long Time handjob-to-completion - I'm out of the habit with Apollo...we normally just get to fucking after a little bit. I get so neurotic over giving pleasure - it's like I'm afraid I've forgotten how. But it was a goodness. As are the Magician's soft hands and sweet nails.
Thursday, May 1st -
I went out a-wandering around my neighborhood, making a clover chain to the Goddess, admiring Her loveliness and re-committing myself to Her work. Later that evening, I had drinks with my Victorian Lit class. After that, I went home and jumped on Apollo. Because yes.
Friday, May 2nd -
Acted as a chaperon for the alternative prom that my church was sponsoring for the GLBTQ kids in the area from 7-9. What amazing clothes! I should've been queer in high school...alas, alack. I felt really wonderful about helping to provide a safe space for these kids to dance and have a good time - and so VERY pleased that my church was so supportive. After that, I headed over to the club for the Voltaire show. It was my first Voltaire show, and hot damn. That man. Would let him fuck me six ways to Sunday. I already knew he was clever, much like his historical, satirical counterpart...but damn. The Magician showed up, and Church Goth Boy (CGB) was there with his wonderful wife. My friend Ceres brought her middle-school-aged daughter and her daughter's friend - and they were terribly cute in their excitement and embarrassment. Also, about half of the normal RHPS cast was there...so I was wondering who the hell was working the show. I think the highlights of the night were his parody of the Dresden Dolls' "Coin Operated Boy" as "Coin Operated Goy", the Star Trek song about how Data is "fully functional...and anatomically correct," and his final encore song. He introduced this song by saying that it was not one of his...but a song from a movie which he felt had definitely influenced him, and probably most of us, in becoming the perverse people we are today. The light was coming on at this point, but I didn't dare hope. He continued to say that we should sing the words if we knew them...and the other words, if we knew them. HA! And he began:
"Micheal Rainer was ill the day the earth stood still
and he told us where we stand! ("On our feet!" "On your knees!")"
Ahhh. The Rocky folks in the audience supplied the (fucking, sucking) callback lines, and it was wonderful.
Saturday, May 3rd -
Got up and went to the Magician's for breakfast (ok, brunch) and hanging out. I had told him, last night, that when we hung out today, he owed me a back rub this time. This back rub ended up with me topless on his black satiny sheets - which, let me just say, is a luxurious experience. There were nails and hair-pulling (ahh), and my hand on his cock (an observation: the more familiar and varied your experience with genitals are, the more attractive they look on their own merits. I don't think that before Wednesday night I had ever actively thought "What a pretty cock."). After he came, we cuddled, me still in jeans, him nekkid. Laying there, just being in contact, was lovely, luscious. But I was starting to ache for more. On Wednesday, I had initiated the taking-off of pants. I was hoping, quietly, that this time would see a reciprocation of that. But part of the Magician's charm and beauty is that he doesn't push. He has Patience. So, I lay there stewing in desire before finally working up the chutzpah to ask him for another bite, at least. He cheerfully obliged, staying to run his hands, his fingers over my breasts, tweaking and pulling. Eventually, his nails crept to the border of my pants, slipping under, slipping around. Then slipping over my jeans, pressing between my legs until I gasped.
"So, um, I guess this might be a good time to have the 'rules and boundaries' conversation," he said.
"Yeah...well...my boundaries are pretty flexible. I have standing permission for...pretty much whatever I want to do. I would want to check with Apollo before we have intercourse, if we get to that point, but that's it. Oh, and...well...I guess you should know that it generally takes me a long while to be comfortable giving oral."
"Ok. Well, you get to set the pace, so that's fine."
Then the conversation dissolved into the movement of hands, hands down the front of my jeans, hands helping me remove my jeans. Fingers pressing through my undies as I spasmed on the bed - so gentle, yet so effective. Really. I...I sometimes despair of a partner's manual clitoral stimulation being truly orgasmic, but my faith is hereby renewed.
"Are you always so responsive, or am I just special?"
"You're special, and I'm always this responsive," I grinned, "I do tend to prefer penetration to clitoral stimulation..."
"Well, if that's how you respond to clitoral stimulation and you prefer penetration...I'm not sure if I can keep up with your moving."
"Mm. Well, honestly, you're better than most. And besides, I figured those nails would make penetration pretty difficult anyway."
"You just have to be careful. It is possible." And yes, yes it was possible. And beautiful. And utterly...wow. I came down, slowly, walking to my car, clutching my prayer beads, grounding into them.
From there, I headed off to Ceres's place for the Beltane ritual and party. As usual, Pagan Standard Time was in full effect...so the ritual started an hour later than it was supposed to. But it was lovely. I started in my cranberry colored robes, and read to the participants about Shadow and Bast, and hot, feline sex. Then I led them into guided meditation to meet their Wild Love - the personification of their desires and passions. While they were in meditation, I slipped out of my robes so that when they opened their eyes, they saw me in fishnets, black underwear, my crimson corset, and my knee-high boots. We're talking transformation here. :)
Afterwards, we poured drinks and got ready to watch Secretary. Before we got the movie in, however, I found myself chatting with Ceres's friend, the Amazon, and her girl - a beautiful, newly transitioning girl, Kwan Yin. At some point, Kwan Yin remarked that it would be really hot if the Amazon and I made out. Of course, I began blushing furiously, and asked if she was serious. The Amazon gave me her best "come fuck me" look, and Kwan Yin assured me that she was, indeed, serious.
"But...the boys are watching. I don't know that I want to put on a show..."
"Why the fuck not? Who the hell cares, really?"
Well, when you put it like that...I edged towards her, and she extended her arms. And her lips, woman's lips, soft and succulent. Strong passion and soft body. Lips creeping to the neck, my shivers beginning. Kwan Yin touches my shoulder, and offers me her lips too. I kiss, oh, I kiss. My hands weave into her hair, and she responds. She, too, finds my neck, finds my shudder.
"You're so much fun," they agree, "You're so easy." I am easy, that way. Easy to please, easy to arouse. I like it that way.
We've formed a pile of arms and legs and hands - making out on the floor. I don't remember that the boys are there. And they are there, watching. But it doesn't matter. All that matters are their lips and their hands in my hair. Amazon gets up for a moment, and returns, saying:
"Ceres has cleared off her bed...I mean, no expectations, but we could take this in there...it'd be more comfortable and more private."
"Let me call my boyfriend," I say. Apollo gives me his full blessing, and I join them on Ceres's bed.
"I don't know how I feel, " Amazon says, "about having sex with you. Or about Kwan Yin having sex with you. But I definitely want to play with your breasts." Oh, that's fiiine by me. Beautiful. She undoes my corset, slow and careful, praising the softness of my skin, the luminescence of me, the responsiveness of my nerves. Kwan Yin is at my mouth, and what kisses! I am confused, though, when Amazon goes for my undies and fishnets.
"Wait...what constitutes 'sex'?"
"Oh, I don't count hands."
"Excellent!" And it was. Friendly and passionate and gorgeous. I watched them in ecstasy, kissing them while they went down on each other. I put my fingers inside my second woman, ever, and felt the wonder of clenching vaginal muscles. I felt their fingers inside me, heavenly, heavenly. Kwan Yin, merciful lady that she is, was fingering us both, at one point. I clutched them in my passion, and embraced them in theirs.
I had only met them that day. And still, it was sacred. Still, it was holy. Still, it was my Beltane.
My Beltane Bliss, Let Me Show You It.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
There is no smoking in the fucking theater...
- and no fucking in the smoking theater!
I leaned against the railing, breathing and allowing the Frankenfurter's voice to become background noise. Waiting.
"This is a loud venue, so hand signals will be important," he reminded me.
"Ok. One for yellow, two for red, yes?"
"Yes. Ready?"
"Yes."
Waiting. Then the thud begins. I can tell, even after just these couple of times, that he's hitting harder, faster. Not giving me as much warm-up time. And that's ok. I am pulling back, into the flogger's path, into the rhythm, encouraging a deeper hit. I feel myself floating away, easing out of normal space. He pauses to check in. I am still very good. He resumes. Suddenly, there are hands pulling at my hair while the flogger strikes my shoulders, ass and thighs. I gasp deeper, but don't look up. There are teeth in my neck, teeth on my shoulder. A hand, under my chin, raising my eyes. Oh, beautiful Cloaked Norseman, more serious than I'd previously seen, eyes half-lidded. He briefly confirms with RHF, that yes, it's is alright and even appreciated that he add his efforts to this scene. Then the hands in my hair, and the teeth on my neck, and the flogger on my ass. And suddenly, the flogger licks between my legs, my fishnet-and-underwear covered legs. I tremble. The sensations continue, building, until at some point, there are three sets of hands on me, for RHF's girlfriend has joined, and I'm shaking from the stimulation. Shaking.
"Are you good for now?"
"Yes. Oh yes."
"If I sit you down somewhere, will you stay there for a while?"
"....Yes. Yes."
I am seeing why one doesn't necessarily go to Rocky for the movie...you go for the kink and the company. Time to flirt, time to play, time to drop the seriousness of GradStudentTA self, and be Shining, Touch-Loving Joy.
I leaned against the railing, breathing and allowing the Frankenfurter's voice to become background noise. Waiting.
"This is a loud venue, so hand signals will be important," he reminded me.
"Ok. One for yellow, two for red, yes?"
"Yes. Ready?"
"Yes."
Waiting. Then the thud begins. I can tell, even after just these couple of times, that he's hitting harder, faster. Not giving me as much warm-up time. And that's ok. I am pulling back, into the flogger's path, into the rhythm, encouraging a deeper hit. I feel myself floating away, easing out of normal space. He pauses to check in. I am still very good. He resumes. Suddenly, there are hands pulling at my hair while the flogger strikes my shoulders, ass and thighs. I gasp deeper, but don't look up. There are teeth in my neck, teeth on my shoulder. A hand, under my chin, raising my eyes. Oh, beautiful Cloaked Norseman, more serious than I'd previously seen, eyes half-lidded. He briefly confirms with RHF, that yes, it's is alright and even appreciated that he add his efforts to this scene. Then the hands in my hair, and the teeth on my neck, and the flogger on my ass. And suddenly, the flogger licks between my legs, my fishnet-and-underwear covered legs. I tremble. The sensations continue, building, until at some point, there are three sets of hands on me, for RHF's girlfriend has joined, and I'm shaking from the stimulation. Shaking.
"Are you good for now?"
"Yes. Oh yes."
"If I sit you down somewhere, will you stay there for a while?"
"....Yes. Yes."
I am seeing why one doesn't necessarily go to Rocky for the movie...you go for the kink and the company. Time to flirt, time to play, time to drop the seriousness of GradStudentTA self, and be Shining, Touch-Loving Joy.
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