HNT - All Tied Up

From my professional shoot.
What better way to be 'half-nekkid' than with items of bondage? :D

The Importance of Keeping Your Mouth Shut

Up until just now I had no idea what I was going to name this post, but I think it fitting. If I hadn't kept my mouth shut, the reason for me writing would not have happened, which would have been a real shame and probably would have made the day rather sour. Because this post is about play time.

For a bit more background, the Satyr and I used to go out. There were unfortunately various problems, some linked to past trauma of mine, and quite a few to do with communication. When we finally sat down and talked things through we found we wanted quite different things. I'm very glad that we've remained close - there's very few I can be really at ease around.

Being at ease unfortunately doesn't mean being open. I don't know what keeps me from doing so with him, it might be the previously-mentioned trauma, but as he is the only one I've started a new relationship with since then I can't be sure. Its led to some awkward situations and some major miscommunication.

On Friday night he came around for the watching of dvds. Unexpectedly we ended up having the house to ourselves. There were many warm cuddles, and some serious flirting. Some serious serious flirting. Yet I could still feel that wall inside, that damned wall that despite being so at ease with him just would not crumble, jabbing at my insides whenever I gave it a nudge. I have to wonder if it gives me a glazed look or something from his comments. No sweet Satyr, you're not meant to know what that look means, that's the whole purpose of a mask. I was almost literally biting my tongue at his question - first instance of keeping my mouth shut. Its never a good topic, almost guaranteed to leave me in tears.

At one point I offered to show him a rather revealing piece of lingerie I had recently acquired. And then to model it. It was a rather cold night, so it took a bit of mental prodding on my own part, but I so wanted to see that look on his face, and I was certainly rewarded when he stepped back into my room. His hands were cold to start, but it felt so good to be touched again, and they warmed fast. In fact the whole room got quite warm fast, warm enough for him to shed his jersey, and for my shaking to not be from the chill any more.

He pulled me onto his lap, whispering in my ear just what he could do with me in such a garment, his hands demonstrating hot on the heels of his words. The panicky part of me was yelling to tell him to say, not show. That night though it had fallen in a pit and was sounding rather faint, so I was actually able to tell it to shut up. Second instance of keeping my mouth shut.

Then he swept me up in his arms and laid me down on my bed, and that's when I felt the wall finally vanish, laid out trembling and vulnerable beneath him.

Is it any wonder that I enjoy submission so much when its the only time I feel like myself?

I love to feel a man's hands on me. I love to writhe and squirm and moan for them, to show them what a slut I can be, to delight them with my responses. I can't stop to think with him touching me, and that's probably a good thing, because odds are I would over-analyse the situation. His hands on my skin, on my breasts, inside me, that's all there is.

Then he asked if I would like him to cum.

Oh crap, here? On my bed?

Many times I've felt like a selfish lover with him, getting off so much from his touch, never giving the same in return, and always feeling guilty. As much as I want him to enjoy as much as I am, I hit that mental block again. Yet more trauma scars. How can I ask him to leave, or to wait? I know what it is prompting such a response, but I can't even trust myself to speak, for fear of spoiling it all.

So I say nothing, and trust and hope that he will do what he feels comfortable with.

Soon enough he frees his cock, as big and hard as I have ever seen it, and strokes himself to orgasm. And I am very glad that I kept my mouth shut, because I liked seeing just how much he enjoyed it too, despite my initial reaction.

Curled up on the bed with him, the lingerie long ago discarded, we basked and dozed and chatted. I could feel the wall going up again brick by brick. Sigh. But at least I had something warm and fuzzy to keep with me behind it until it came down again.

Was a much nicer return to reality than it could have been, as we were still like that when we heard my mother in the hallway, having completely missed the door, and snapping the wall up that fast isn't so nice. I'm glad I had been in a dressing gown already before she left, so she wasn't surprised when I came out in it to divert her from poking in my room. Though she didn't know that now I was naked under it!

Unfinished Business

I've been meaning to post this for a while, but I seem to have lost my motivation fairy. I found a replacement tonight (thank you Dee) but I wish mine would come back!

Thursday night I had a sex dream. These are not all that uncommon for me (I had another one last night), but this one I felt was worth mentioning.

It took place in a medieval setting, stereotypical big stone castles and rocky moors, except with central heating and without the plagues and invasions (there was an ambush by raiders on one of the roads through the woods, but that doesn't really have anything to do with the main story). After a bit of fussing with several other women over clothes, we all went to a feast hosted by the king, quite a tall, well-muscled and handsome fellow. At some point during the dancing, the king came up to me and shouted to the hall that I was in fact fae. I immediately shed half my clothes, spouted wings and fled, with the king swiftly following after me.

For what seemed like days I flew across the rolling grass and rocky outcrops, sometimes flying low from exhaustion, and doubling back occasionally to see if the king was still pursuing me, which he was, with a full hunting party, but never did they make a move to strike at me and several times I got quite close. At one point when I was exhausted and flying quite low, my wing was injured on an outcrop, and so to escape the king, who had gotten quite close now, I flew to the top of a sheer cliff and sheltered in a tiny medieval-themed apartment, my wings vanishing once I set foot down, still in just my shift from the feast. And of course the king just appeared! (The impression I got was a hidden elevator right in the cliff, no magic here!)

He strode (yes, strode, definite emphasis) across the room, grabbed me tight and kissed me fiercely, whispering of how he lusted for me, and I trembled as I felt his need through every inch of him as he clutched me close. He dragged me, by now willingly, towards the bed, threw me down, looming over me as he reached to disrobe ... and then I woke up. Typical.

At least it made good fantasy fodder for morning masturbation. And afternoon masturbation too!

HNT

It might be warming spring breezes for the Northern Hemisphere, but here in the South its finally starting to get the winter bite. Perhaps a bit too cold to be stripping down for HNT?

Talk to the hand, winter cold!

I have enough stock to last, and send the Northern Hemisphere into boiling point.

Yes, I'm chipper tonight. Sorta.

May is Masturbation Month

Masturbating is a wonderful thing. Some bloggers are finding out just how wonderful by challenging themselves to daily masturbation through the entire month, like the gorgeous Dee has (see my blogroll for her stories and results). Myself, I was well aware of the benefits of such a daily ritual. I've previously gone a week of once or twice a day a few times, though unfortunately never a whole month. Either my hormone cycle or outside influences prevent that.

The major problem I have is that to masturbate requires a minimum level of energy, horniness and ... well, just lack of 'other things' that get in the way. Frequent masturbation lifts my spirits and my general enthusiasm for life measurably, but unfortunately to get to that high I have to start off at least somewhere midway. If May hadn't turned out to be such a terrible month for me, I would have loved to have joined Dee in her challenge. The way things have fallen out though, I've only had two orgasms in a fortnight. Pitifully few, and that is during the horniest part of my cycle. Stress really affects my sex drive, and right now I have a mountain of it.

But this isn't a blog about all those 'other things'. This is a blog purely about sex, and things to do with sex, and I intend to keep it that way. Right now I just really wish things would let up enough so I felt like writing about all the stuff I want to write about!

My First HNT

I've been in a bit of a slump lately, but this is a tradition that I still wanted to become a part of. And I mean NOW.

So for your viewing pleasure, the misbehaving blue dress of play-party fame.

No its not my crop, borrowed it from Phoenix for some 'domme'ish pics, and I look damned hot. Only hint of the theme you get from me is three pics.

Happy Half-Nekkid Thursday

I am Woman

While I was thinking of things to write for my next post, a thought entered my head that threw me so much it brought up a whole new topic to discuss and I completely forgot what my original idea was. It went like this: "(blah blah blah) really satisfies me as a person."

I don't expect many, if any, people to understand what I find wrong about this thought. Have a think about it anyway before reading on.


I'm heavily influenced by Gorean philosophy. One of the big ideas put forward in the Gorean books is that the society of Earth has become choked, frustrated and stagnated sexually. The sexes have been merged into one genderless blob, rather than having our uniqueness acknowledged and celebrated. We are no longer man and woman, but 'people', the same, equal. (Granted this was written some time ago and deals purely in male/female poles, but by no means should anything in between or converts be ignored. If I end up slipping into the male and female poles its not to be leaving the rest out.)

My thought should have read "(blah blah blah) really satisfies me as a woman."

If I had been thinking of something mediocre or general, that is experienced pretty much the same by both genders, I doubt I would have even noticed that I had put 'person' instead of 'woman'. But I wasn't, I was thinking about sex. Based on your own physical gender and the gender of your partner, sex is experienced differently. Penetrative sex is an experience unique to man and woman. While gay couples might have penetrative sex, its in a different way and is a different experience, simply because of how we're built and how we're wired. Lesbian couples its different again. Even with a sex change, you're still you, genetically and psychologically.

So what really got me thinking is: why was I thinking in generic, sexless terms when expressing something that is so intrinsically linked to gender and sexual identity?

Despite knowing what sex was from quite a young age (its rather hard to ignore when you have a variety of birds and other pets doing it in your backyard) my sexuality was heavily repressed, at home and at school. I don't mean in the development of it though. My mother had gay friends and we were brought up to see them as no different than straights. There was a cross-dresser among the committees she was part of who was 'kind of weird' because he just liked to dress up and identify and didn't want a sex change. I'm glad that I didn't find out she was anti-bisexual until after I had figured out I was quite straight. Kind of mixed signals, but not repressive. What was repressive was in the expressing of it.

We were kind of a skin friendly household only up until the first of us started going to school. Sex was not discussed beyond 'this is birth control', 'this is where babies come from' and 'this guy likes guys instead of girls and that's okay'. A good foundation but not really expressive.

What I would really like to see is the ingrained sexiness of men and women celebrated. And I don't mean flooding our media with more images of sex and what sexiness and sexuality is, I mean learning that we are what we are, and that it is not only acceptable, but should be exciting and liberating. Our deepest darkest urges should not be so deep nor dark, we should not have to hide who we are and what turns us on. I think the truly vanilla would be shocked at how many kinky people would arise, and the supressed kinksters shocked as well. I could certainly do with a bit more choice among kinky partners.

So, yes. I am woman. I am sensual, sexual, and oh so kinky.