Hmm... OK. Another one from the vaults.
I remember posting this story on tribe.net. It's not the sexiest one, but it sparked an interesting discussion.
I used to have this play partner. Damn, he had a sexy little body. I thought of him as my slightly nerdier Lance Armstrong. He rode bikes, and was working on his novel. Too cute. And a nice, athletic build, and big, fat... but I digress.
...oh man, but could he ever use it, too. He could stay as hard as he pleased for as long as he pleased (and this was before the days of free Viagra over the internet, so this actually took work and willpower). Both being committed anal aficionados made it even more impressive of a feat...
OK girl, stay focused... stay on target...
...oh, yes. OK so we had only been playing in private for a few months. This would involve getting a cheap motel, as we both had living situations that would not allow us the privacy we desired. One day, he expressed interest in coming with me to the club. He said that he had played there once or twice before, and would like to get to know it a little better.
Of course, I was enthusiastic. I love showing "my" playground around to new friends.
I was making good money at the time, and being the power slut that I am, it turned me on to pay his entrance fee and have him be "my date," instead of the traditional vice versa.
We browse around a bit, and make our way upstairs to the (in my opinion) more beginner "straight-people" area. He seemed to be more comfortable there.
Me, I'm comfortable anywhere, and so proceed to strip down to my then favorite outfit- a bra, some heels, and my big black butt plug. I loved having strangers come up and push the plug. Purr.
Well, so much for straight people- of course I make a bee-line to a threesome who are having some fun on a far bed across the room. An old guy is getting his cock sucked by this big, curvy black lady with short, almost shaven hair, and the most beautiful African-looking shell jewellry. She was the most beautiful curvy lesbian. I came to know this after a nice conversation with the lady who happened to be fisting her as she sucked cock.
Now, this was the first time I had ever witnessed someone being fisted. So, the woman doing the fisting was happy to provide some insights as she played, as the other had her mouth full at the time. She told me about how it is one of the most intense, focused and intimate things that someone can perform- it's not just intense for the one receiving. The sensations being as big as they are, and tiny movement on the part of the giver results in crazy reactions from the receiver. You are both so in-tuned to what the other is doing. Intense connection, indeed.
And so it was. Although, as the giver pointed out, it was a little more challenging gauging how the receiver felt with her mouth full of cock. But experimenters are always thirsty for a challenge...
Spitting out the cock for a moment, she told me that I was cute, and expressed a desire to have me suck on her tits.
Yes, ma'am! They were ample and of course, so wonderfully soft. It's a challenge to remember that you need not necessarily be delicate with them, soft as they are. So, my head was lost in those beautiful, black tits for a while.
At some point I realize that somewhere in the background is the nerdy Lance Armstrong. He is waiting like a good little pet. Now, that is not exactly what I had been going for, and our relationship had never "gone there" before, but I have to say it tickled me a bit. Like I said, power slut.
So, I realize it's time to give pet a little attention. I beckon him over with a little touch, but he seems to feel a little awkward, and doesn't know where to move next. I lead him over with a hand, like a dancer, to the other side of the bed. I get up on my knees as was our tradition. He asks if I would like it in the ass, as per tradition.
"No, I'd like to keep the plug there, and have you elsewhere."
"OK."
He mechanically takes out a condom and places it where it needs to go. I notice he looks nervous and sweaty, which I've not seen before with him. He had always been perfectly cool, before.
We start to fuck, and he really does feel jerky and nervous. And the sweating continues. He still has his sweater on. I suggest he take it off.
"Uhm, no, I kind of like it on."
Is he being... shy?
The robot fucking continues for a few more minutes, when I feel an unfamiliar softness, and he pops out. That is very bizzare!
"Hey, sweetie, no worries."
"I'm sorry, I can try again in a few minutes!"
"Well, good, but are you feeling it? I mean, are you having a good time?"
"Well..."
"If you're not really feeling it, don't worry about it."
"I guess it's not really my scene like I thought it was before."
"That's fine! And anyways, I know I paid and all, but I hope you didn't feel pressured into performing. You aren't a hired hand, OK? I was just feeling generous, that's all."
"Oh, OK, that's a relief. I did kind of feel like, pressured..."
Which of course I never wanted him to feel. Me getting jollies from power doesn't mean I ever want play to not be fun for both of us. In fact, it has to be. A friend tells me that the mark of a good domme is a happy sub. And so it goes. We didn't try to play any more that night- he went home and I stayed and talked to the happy three.
All's well that ends well.
I remember posting this story on tribe.net. It's not the sexiest one, but it sparked an interesting discussion.
I used to have this play partner. Damn, he had a sexy little body. I thought of him as my slightly nerdier Lance Armstrong. He rode bikes, and was working on his novel. Too cute. And a nice, athletic build, and big, fat... but I digress.
...oh man, but could he ever use it, too. He could stay as hard as he pleased for as long as he pleased (and this was before the days of free Viagra over the internet, so this actually took work and willpower). Both being committed anal aficionados made it even more impressive of a feat...
OK girl, stay focused... stay on target...
...oh, yes. OK so we had only been playing in private for a few months. This would involve getting a cheap motel, as we both had living situations that would not allow us the privacy we desired. One day, he expressed interest in coming with me to the club. He said that he had played there once or twice before, and would like to get to know it a little better.
Of course, I was enthusiastic. I love showing "my" playground around to new friends.
I was making good money at the time, and being the power slut that I am, it turned me on to pay his entrance fee and have him be "my date," instead of the traditional vice versa.
We browse around a bit, and make our way upstairs to the (in my opinion) more beginner "straight-people" area. He seemed to be more comfortable there.
Me, I'm comfortable anywhere, and so proceed to strip down to my then favorite outfit- a bra, some heels, and my big black butt plug. I loved having strangers come up and push the plug. Purr.
Well, so much for straight people- of course I make a bee-line to a threesome who are having some fun on a far bed across the room. An old guy is getting his cock sucked by this big, curvy black lady with short, almost shaven hair, and the most beautiful African-looking shell jewellry. She was the most beautiful curvy lesbian. I came to know this after a nice conversation with the lady who happened to be fisting her as she sucked cock.
Now, this was the first time I had ever witnessed someone being fisted. So, the woman doing the fisting was happy to provide some insights as she played, as the other had her mouth full at the time. She told me about how it is one of the most intense, focused and intimate things that someone can perform- it's not just intense for the one receiving. The sensations being as big as they are, and tiny movement on the part of the giver results in crazy reactions from the receiver. You are both so in-tuned to what the other is doing. Intense connection, indeed.
And so it was. Although, as the giver pointed out, it was a little more challenging gauging how the receiver felt with her mouth full of cock. But experimenters are always thirsty for a challenge...
Spitting out the cock for a moment, she told me that I was cute, and expressed a desire to have me suck on her tits.
Yes, ma'am! They were ample and of course, so wonderfully soft. It's a challenge to remember that you need not necessarily be delicate with them, soft as they are. So, my head was lost in those beautiful, black tits for a while.
At some point I realize that somewhere in the background is the nerdy Lance Armstrong. He is waiting like a good little pet. Now, that is not exactly what I had been going for, and our relationship had never "gone there" before, but I have to say it tickled me a bit. Like I said, power slut.
So, I realize it's time to give pet a little attention. I beckon him over with a little touch, but he seems to feel a little awkward, and doesn't know where to move next. I lead him over with a hand, like a dancer, to the other side of the bed. I get up on my knees as was our tradition. He asks if I would like it in the ass, as per tradition.
"No, I'd like to keep the plug there, and have you elsewhere."
"OK."
He mechanically takes out a condom and places it where it needs to go. I notice he looks nervous and sweaty, which I've not seen before with him. He had always been perfectly cool, before.
We start to fuck, and he really does feel jerky and nervous. And the sweating continues. He still has his sweater on. I suggest he take it off.
"Uhm, no, I kind of like it on."
Is he being... shy?
The robot fucking continues for a few more minutes, when I feel an unfamiliar softness, and he pops out. That is very bizzare!
"Hey, sweetie, no worries."
"I'm sorry, I can try again in a few minutes!"
"Well, good, but are you feeling it? I mean, are you having a good time?"
"Well..."
"If you're not really feeling it, don't worry about it."
"I guess it's not really my scene like I thought it was before."
"That's fine! And anyways, I know I paid and all, but I hope you didn't feel pressured into performing. You aren't a hired hand, OK? I was just feeling generous, that's all."
"Oh, OK, that's a relief. I did kind of feel like, pressured..."
Which of course I never wanted him to feel. Me getting jollies from power doesn't mean I ever want play to not be fun for both of us. In fact, it has to be. A friend tells me that the mark of a good domme is a happy sub. And so it goes. We didn't try to play any more that night- he went home and I stayed and talked to the happy three.
All's well that ends well.