Sexual Spiritualist

Friends share

2008-11-28T23:40:00.003-05:00

I learned back and closed my eyes as her lips closed around me, and one of my last thoughts before focusing entirely on the exquisite feeling of my cock in her mouth and my hands in her beautiful hair was a mental reminder to thank the friend who had introduced us.

A few days earlier I had received an IM from a friend, asking if I was going to an upcoming play party our mutual friend Topdrop was throwing. When I told him I was, he asked if he could recruit my assistance. It seemed a young lady of his acquaintance was planning to attend said party, but was quite nervous, as she was still just dipping her feet back into the world of kink after some time away. More importantly she didn't know many people who would be attending this soiree. He asked if I would talk to her a bit, both to re-assure her and tell her what I knew about the parties and what to expect, as well as give her someone else she would know at the party itself. He’s a good friend and I like helping people find their comfort in play spaces, so I told him to feel free to put us in touch.

A few hours later she sent me an email through a kink website I’m on, introducing herself and saying that our mutual friend had pointed her my way. I emailed back, mostly saying hello and inviting her to ask about the party, though the spankability of her ass as exhibited in her profile picture seemed worth commenting on. We started chatting online, and quickly formed a connection; the kind of conversation that moves seamlessly from flirting to talking to sharing parts of our past to making each other incredibly turned on and around back again. By the end of the evening we were both quite eager to meet at the party the next night- and she had specific instructions on what to wear to please me. Thigh highs just make everything better, after all.

We met at the party and from the moment I saw her face light in recognition when she saw me, I knew we would be having a good night. We said hello and after I had made the rounds and said hello to a few other friends and gotten myself generally acclimated I took a seat near her. I joined in the conversation a few people were having and after a few minutes I simply made eye contact with her, snapped my fingers once and pointed to the floor at my feet. She didn’t speak a word, though I saw a smile steal across her face, and then she gracefully got up and moved to kneel at my feet. My hand started playing idly with her hair, stroking her neck with my fingers while I continued conversing., and when my hand enmeshed in her hair and pulled, I was rewarded by feeling her whole body go slack, melting slightly along with a soft moan. This was going to be a very good night.

As always, my ability to give a blow by blow recounting of the evening will fail me. My memories of an evening are never a narrative, instead I remember images, moments.

*Pushing her against the wall and slipping my hand between her thighs to feel her literally dripping through the lace.

*Holding her tight by the hair while she knelt next to Rachel as Rachel hungrily sucked me off. Seeing the look in her eyes- such pure hunger and lust and desire and frustration as I held her just out of reach, making her watch but not touch. Yet.

*Wrapping my hand around her throat and feeling her pulse quicken, and her eyes close. Seeing her whole body go slack with my hand around her throat, and then re-awaken when my lips found her's and I kissed her.

*Making her kneel over a bed between Rachel and Emma, and having a friend join me in flogging and paddling and spanking all three of them in turn. Seeing them each react, not only to the floggers and paddles against their own flesh, but to the sounds of the others being hit.

*Finding myself standing by the door, waiting for Rachel and Emma to say their goodbyes, and noticing Topdrop off by himself. I patted Hannah on the ass, pointed to him, and told her to offer herself to him. She looked a bit nervous, but nodded and went to do as she had been told. Thirty seconds later, her had her against a wall and panting. I like helping people make friends.

*Driving her home, one hand on the wheel, the other between her thighs. Its such a cliché, hearing that mix of uncertainty and nervousness about being caught, and arousal from what my fingers are doing as she protests, but so half-heartedly, but I so love it. And with Hannah- she has this wonderful aura of the innocent little thing who just might enjoy being naughty, though shhhh, don’t tell anyone. So very very hot.

*And then the moment with which this story started. Feeling her mouth wrap around me, a few different times throughout the evening. Sometimes leaning back to let her enjoy, others holding her tight by the hair and guiding her, teaching her exactly how to please me and having her react so wonderfully obediently, so obviously focused on pleasing.

A very good night. I owe my friend for introducing us. Though given that since then she’s formed rather nice connections with two gentlemen I’ve put her in touch with, I think the phrase “pay it forward” could be applied.

Rave Review

2008-11-20T19:10:00.003-05:00

One joy of having a job that often pays me to travel, is the possibility of the erotic adventure in a classy hotel room.

Recently, I was out of town and contacted a friend I'd fallen into bed with the last time I was in her particular city. I let her know I was in her neck of the woods and asked if she'd like to get together for a drink. We didn't connect until almost 11pm, but when she suggested we go straight to my room, who I was to complain.

Fucking her silly on a huge bed in a decadent room paid for by my boss- that was lovely.

But the highlight of the evening? My lady friend is rather exuberant in her expression of her passion. At one point we collapsed into each others arms, and were catching our breath- when we heard applause from the hallway.

I never found out who it was clapping, or if they were being genuinely appreciative, or sarcastically telling us to shut the hell up. All I know is, it was hot.

Add to that the fact that to this day I still don't know who it was, and whether it was someone in town for the same conference I was? Someone I may well have been working with the next day? Hot. Damn that was a good night.

Memey goodness

2008-11-20T19:09:00.002-05:00

I normally skip these things, but I played in someone else's blog so I guess I have to allow the same here.

Fuck or Pass game.
The rules are simple.
If you want to fuck the person who posts this, send them a reply saying “I’d fuck you.” But then, you have to post this in your journal, in exchange.

And we can have a wide definition “fuck.”

(Comments will be screened and will remain unpublished unless specifically requested otherwise.)

Pretty noises

2008-10-19T01:46:00.002-04:00

Over the years I've gotten used to going to sleep to a variety of sounds, some annoying, some amusing, some wonderful.

But I think I have a new favorite.

Tonight I'm curled up in bed, about to set down my laptop, pick up my book and read a bit before drifting off to bed, and from the other room I'm hearing the sounds of Emma being spanked by her new girl crush, with occasional giggles and moans for good measure.

Lovely.

New Sex Toys Part I: Wii!!!!!

2008-10-17T09:35:00.001-04:00

A few new toys have made their appearance at chez SexualSpiritualist that seem worth a word or two. One an actual sex toy of a quite devious nature that I’ve been having great fun with and experiencing new things with. But I’ll get to that.

This post is about something that many people may not at first see the broad sexual applications of. I am speaking, of course- of the Nintendo Wii. http://www.nintendo.com/wii/what Basically its game console, like Xbox, or any of the earlier Nintendo systems, but you play by using a hand held remote controller, the movements of which the machine can sense. So you play video games by moving the controller- hit a tennis ball by swinging the controller just as the ball gets to your character on the screen, moving the controller in a swinging motion to bowl, that kind of thing.

Now, when I talk about using the Wii in sexy ways, I don’t mean using the thing as an actual sex toy. I’m sure someone will find a way to connect it to a sybian or other fucking machine, but I’m not there yet. But that being said I give you just two words:

Strip Wii.

Emma and I had a date with another couple recently, and as we all are pretty geeky and liked the idea of some sexy game playing, we decided to give it a try. What we came up with was the following.

Two people would play a single game of tennis. The winner got to remove one item of clothing from the loser. The winner would stay on and play again against the next person. The two who weren’t playing would watch, cheer on, or find ways to entertain each other on the futon. Surprisingly enough, as more and more clothes came off, the people on the futon found more and more ways to stay busy.

The Wii is great fun, but the technology is so basic that there is only some skill involved, meaning all of us had a decent chance to win any particular game. Not to mention I think once or twice someone threw a match because they were eager to get naked!

Suffice to say it was a lovely lovely evening, Both while playing, and during the more adult games that happened when we all fell onto the bed and forget everything else but our sexy new friends.

Now anyone reading this may be thinking, wow, that sounds silly. But that’s the point. I can be deeply serous about my sexuality, and I often am. But sometimes what I love is being able to laugh and have naked fun with wonderful silly people. Some of the best sexual experiences I’ve had have involved people who can laugh the way I can at almost anything. People who enjoy cuddling and caressing and fucking and snuggling with equal abandon, and treasure the long lazy nights when those things bleed into each other.

That’s been the highlight, but there have been a few other amusingly hot uses of our new gaming console.

Challenging Avah to a game of bowling, with the stipulation that for every frame in which she knocked down more pins then, she’d get hit that many times with a cane. It proved quite motivational.

A lovely evening with Emma, myself, and two good friends and lovers of ours, where after a delicious sexual romp, we snuggled and stayed naked and played games on the Wii for hours, before deciding we needed to pounce each other one last time before bed.

Similarly, I found Rachel’s bowling skills increase dramatically when I am able to reach between her thighs and slip a finger inside her, and keep it there as she bowls. She got strike after strike like this, after barely breaking 6 a frame before hand. Now if only we could find a real bowling alley to try that in without getting throw out.

Our most recent addition has been the game “Outdoor adventure” which comes with a pad. Basically it’s the same thing as a home Dance Dance Revolution pad, just aligned a little differently, and with games that involve running, jumping, etc. Lots of silliness

But the sadist in me was quite pleased at making Rachel, who quite wonderfully blessed with what is delicately referred to as “a ginormous rack” play the game naked. Ahhh, the bouncing. Ahh, the whimpering.

Return to writing- sex positive community and friendships

2008-10-02T10:12:00.002-04:00

It’s been a while since my last post. My writing here seems to go in fits and starts, but this was my longest period away since I got started. A combination of life exploding, in mostly good but busy ways, and some other things that had me questioning if I wanted to keep this blog going. But last night I had the kind of wonderful experience that got me started with this blog, that got me started wanting to write about sex and connection and friendship and spirituality.

And I didn’t even get laid.

I was out at a bar, at a gathering of sex bloggers and activists and perverts and assorted good people. The whole night was a lot of fun, I saw old friends and chatted with new people. The best part though, the part that has me smiling the next morning, and remembering why I started this blog in the first place: Three of the people I spent the most time talking to, three of the people who I spent time chatting with, and catching up on life with and making deeper friendly connections with, were all people I’d met at sex parties.

How many times have I heard that sex ruins a friendship? Here were three people, three people I’d consider good friends or quickly becoming such, who I met by having sex with.

The first, I met at a party many years ago. We hooked up, had a lot of fun, and that was that. We then ran into each other a few years later, and re-connected. She’s since become a valued friend and occasional play partner.

The second, was someone I met and played with at a wonderful event documented here and here. Since that time, we’ve played once or twice, but more importantly talked many times and really build a strong connection. I don’t get to see her often, but every time I do it’s like running into a long lost friend. Her face lights up when I walk into a room and I always get a warm hug and for a few minutes everything else stops as we catch up and hear about what’s been going on in each other’s lives. She was telling me about hew new crush and how well it is going and I remembered talking to her some months ago when things weren’t going so well and I just felt how happy I was for her. Those are the kind of moments of friendship I treasure.

The third is someone Emma and I met at a sex party we went to for my birthday and wound up having a deliciously wicked evening with that I hope to document soon. We chatted and flirted and wound up in bed with her, along with a few other friends we’d played with before. Then yesterday she and I wound up hanging out before the bar meet, and it was one of those conversations that makes me feel, wow, this person gets me, this is a person I could really connect with. I have no idea if she and I will fall into bed again, and though I’d love to, more important is that it doesn’t matter. Either way, it was clear by the hug I gave her at the end of the night that she warmly returned, that I’d found a new friend.

Why does all that matter? For me, one of the things I so treasure about the community of perverts and freaks and weirdoes I’m a part of, the communities I discover in part through the blogs I read and that I write about on these pages is the utter lack of sex negativity. The idea that sex is a beautiful thing, but it doesn’t have to come with all the hang ups and baggage. That sleeping with someone on a first date doesn’t have to change how they think about you, or that you can’t have sex with someone and stay “just friends.” That sex can be one of many things you share with someone, and it doesn’t have to fundamentally change your relationship, and that the sexual connection can come and go but not change the friendship.

As I write this I realize I need better friend vocabulary. I’ve found so many different words to talk about sex and God and so many of the things that this blog focuses on- and yet I find I use the word “connect” so many times above, till it sounds like a cliché. But it’s the best word I know.

Last night reminded me of one more way sex can be beautiful. It can start a new friendship, a new connection.

Another tease- watching.

2008-08-19T16:01:00.000-04:00

Last time it was words. This time, it was making her watch. I am developing quite a fondness for turning limits on their head.

Last time it had been with a lady who I did not name- I should ask what she’d like to be called on here. This time I was playing with Stacy. She’d come to a play party I threw a few months ago, and conversation had led to massage, which led to caress, which led to teasing which led to my hand between her thighs as she begged me frantically for permission to cum. We exchanged email addresses, and one or two emails but when contact quickly petered out I didn’t think much of it. She’d warned me that she’s not so good at staying in contact, and I had no illusions that what we’d done was more then a fun night, so I just enjoyed it as a pleasant one time adventure.

So I was pleasantly surprised to see her again this weekend at an event we were both attending. We fell back into flirtation easily, and kept running into each other throughout the weekend, having long conversations and getting to know each other better. I took great enjoyment from the way she’d miss a word or struggle to keep her composure and finish her sentence when my finger would trace her neck or along her thigh just below her skirt.

Finally, Saturday night we found ourselves on a bed in a back room, her body thrashing under my hands as I made her cum, again and again. I would trace a finger along her thigh, gently, my eyes never leaving hers, both of us knowing my eventual goal. My finger would find the edge of her panties and run up against her mound, applying just enough pressure as I reached her clit to let her know I knew exactly what I was doing. Her eyes would take on a pleading look and she’d push her hips just a bit up towards my hand, and my finger would slip under the damp fabric and slip easily into her. My finger would find her g-spot and start to curl inside her and her breathing would get quicker and her hands would claw into my arms and she’d quietly start whispering “please… please” until I let her cum. Her body is intensely responsive, and it was no more then 20-30 seconds from the first time my finger started to move inside her till she was cumming against me. I’d bring her off, and then again, and then again, half a dozen times before letting her rest, catch her breath, my hand lightly caressing her face or chest until it moved to her thigh and we were ready to start again. At first with my fingers, but later I began using my glass toy inside her, to even better effect.

We talked off and on as we played, and she confirmed what I’d already gathered, that my fingering her, or using the toy on her, was about as far as she was comfortable going. I kissed her cheek and told her it was fine, that she should feel no pressure at all to go any further. She told me she knew that, and she trusted me, that she knew she could tell me she wanted something but I’d still respect that she wasn’t ready for it.

Ah, sweet music to my ear.

We played a bit more, and I took great pleasure in teasing her. Telling her in great detail what I could be doing to her, hearing her whimper and moan and press herself against me. But I wanted a bit more then words- and with perfect timing it was then Emma decided to join us.

My hand again found Stacy’s hair and pulled, and as her neck arched I whispered in her ear “now tell me, pretty girl- would you like to watch her pleasure me” She got the most beautiful look in her eyes… both knowing what a tease it would be but also wanting it. I offered her the chance to say no- with just a bit of cruelly in my voice because we both knew she wouldn’t. She took a deep breath- almost stealing herself- and then nodded her agreement. Emma gave a wicked little laugh, and slid down my body to enjoy.

I think Stacy was hoping to curl a bit into the corner and watch, but I had other plans. For almost an hour, I thoroughly enjoyed Emma’s mouth, her touch, her body- but my eyes never left Stacy’s. While one hand was in Emma’s hair, guiding her on me, my other would move again to the toy and start to rapidly penetrate Stacy’s cunt with it, all the while making her watch. When I took Emma from behind, Stacy was right next to us, my eyes locked with hers as I whispered to her, telling her how I wished it was her I was penetrating, hearing her echo the same wish. Emma’s cries and moans were like a soundtrack to my continued seduction of Stacy, as I’d ask her if she wanted to be the one feeling me inside her, and each time Stacy would nod yes, each time with less hesitancy and more urgency. More need.

Words are failing me as I try to describe that dynamic. It contained so much that could have gone so wrong- Stacy feeling pressured to do more then she was into, Emma feeling like she wasn’t the focus of my attention. But this is a dynamic I’ve played with before, and when it comes together, when all are on the same happy page-so hot. It’s a kind of play Emma and I have done before, that I know she adores- she loves being the vessel I take pleasure from as my attention is focused on someone else, loves helping in my seduction, being one more beautiful part of the tease. And with Stacy- we had talked enough, flirted enough, connected enough about what felt right and what didn’t, about trusting each other, about how I read her and how she responded, that I knew this was hot for her, that she would say if it went off track.

And on one level, all that was in my head. I’m a geek I never stop analyzing things. But on another, I just remember the look in Stacy’s eyes as she watched. The way, once we had established that there was a line we would not cross, that I was able to dance her right up to it. As I pounded myself into Emma, holding her by the hips and fucking her for all I had, I could hear Stacy’s breath growing quicker, see her face reddening, her whole body tensing like a spring.

Last time, I teased with words. This time, it was with images. Showing her what was just out of reach.

Gods, I love passion.

The Power of Words

2008-08-05T14:29:00.000-04:00

My hand is at the back of her throat, holding her against the wall as my other hand traces up her thigh. She’s still quivering from a moment before when my hand came down, firm, on her ass; her breath is still coming in ragged gasps. Her face is turned, her eyes on me and I lean in and kiss her cheek softly, treasuring the look in her eyes of not fully believing the sweetness, not knowing what evil thing I’ll do next. I move my lips along her face to her ear, and start to whisper, knowing my lips are close enough that she can feel my breath on her flesh as I whisper about what I’d be doing to her. If only.

We had met earlier that night, shared a few words. Compared tattoos, and the stories behind them, and she’d let me massage her neck. Often I take my time, but for some reason the spark she set off in me made me bold. My hands traced up her neck to her hair, and enmeshed and pulled. When her only response was to moan softly, my other hand started to trace her throat- no massage this time, just ominously, sensually caressing that most vulnerable spot. My hand slid down her neck, tracking her collar bone, cupping her breast through the flimsy material of her dress. She whimpered as my fingers brushed her nipple, and breathed out “just keep my panties on, anything else is fine.”

That’s when I pushed her against the wall, one hand on her neck, the other warming her ass. Her words played in my head as I pondered how best to proceed. It was a casual play situation, and such limits are no problem at all. But tonight, they weren’t limits. They were a weapon. One more thing I could use to torment her.

My lips found her ear and I whispered “you wish I could just take you, here against this wall… rip your panties and violate you , don’t you, little whore”. She had earlier in the night told me how much she enjoyed being called a slut, a whore, dirty things whispered in her ear, and now I was using that to my full advantage. A few times my hand slipped beneath her dress, and brushed against her wetness. I whispered in her ear that she had soaked her panties, and asked her with a cruel, teasing tone if she could even tell me the name of the man who was molesting her. When she admitted she could not, I let my hand come down hard on her ass, and laughed. The noise she made, the look in her eye- both of us knowing it was the words, as much as my hands that were turning her on- hot.

We played like that for a while. My hands exploring her body, first tender then cruel, all the while whispering in her ear. The gentleman she was with at one point intervened, and asked we limit things to a more tame nature, which I was happy to comply with. As I remarked to her, I have a consent fetish, and it applies to all involved, and so I was more then happy to limit myself to what he requested. There was one moment when I did not quite understand what he said, and crossed a line he thought he had explained, but even so it was quickly resolved. In those situations, I am always always going to be happiest knowing exactly what is allowed, and enjoying that, not pushing any boundaries that will make others uncomfortable. I felt bad for inadvertently crossing the line he set, but quickly recovered.

But even that further limitation didn’t stop how erotic it was. My hands were more limited, but neither of our imaginations. Eventually, my hands were almost irrelevant, just lightly stroking her while I spoke in her ear, painting images, and listening to her breathing change in response. Knowing my words were touching her in ways just as arousing as anything I might do with my hands.

God, I love words.

Rope and discussions and spanking, oh my!

2008-07-28T01:24:00.001-04:00

Tying up a pretty friend, learning new things to do with rope, a hot scene with a lady I wanted from the moment I set eyes on her, AND a conversation that left me with interesting things to ponder for days afterward- yea, I’d call that a good night.

Friday night, Dov invited a few friends over for hanging out and ropeplay of a slightly kinky variety. I’ve always been more a fan of a gathering of a dozen people or so then I am of a huge party, and this night reminded me of why. There were enough people to allow for multiple conversations, but you could easily disappear with one person and chat all night. There was a good deal of play going on, but never so much or so many people as to feel overwhelming. I love a good crazy party from time to time, but its gatherings like this I most love, be they sexy or vanilla.

So Emma and I met up after work and headed over to Dov’s, stopping on the way for
gourmet ice-cream. One more reason I love New York. .Not only do we have Mr. Softee- the more fashionable neighborhoods now seem to have ice-cream trucks serving gourmet ice cream complete with fresh fruit. Emma and I shared a cone of currant and cream, which was absolutely delicious, and then headed in to Dov’s place.

When we arrived, it was just Dov, Wendy and a friend of hers I hadn’t met before named Sakura. We sat around chatting for a while, just shooting the breeze till Sakura pulled out the rope and started trying various things.

It’s worth mentioning at this point, that my first thought on seeing Sakura was along the lines of “dear Goddess she’s yummy.” Very much my type, and when a few moments after showing up she started showing off the new lingerie she had recently acquired, my interest was only enhanced. But I was making an effort not to be flirtatious, for a few reasons. Emma and I had talked about this being a very low key night, where we were going to mostly just hang out with friends and learn some things about rope, plus the fact that it was still a small group and who knew what direction the night was going to go in play wise. Put all that together with my normal strong inclination against being “that guy”- the sleazy one who hits on people and makes them uncomfortable, and I was doing my best to just enjoy the eye candy factor she added to the evening. That being said, when she invited me to join her on the coach, and then asked me if she could practice a particular tie on her- who was I to object!

We got to chatting about gender and orientation, which is always a fun conversation- and something that has been on my mind a lot of late. Two different lunches with two new friends earlier in the week had gotten me thinking a lot about how we define gender and attraction and this conversation tied a lot of that together. Mmmm, brains.

Their friend Marcello showed up and jumped into the conversation, which quickly turned to blogging. We were talking about how people react to different posts we make, when we get inspired to write, how we decide how much information to share, and I kept thinking about what an interesting new world this sexblogger thing that I’ve dipped my toe into is, and how I’m still just figuring a lot of it out. Which also probably explains why I feel slightly odd blogging about a conversation about blogging, but there you go.
We showed each other a few fun rope tricks- in particular I learned a new way to bind the wrists which both restrains without being too tight that I’m eager to try out. I tied Emma into a rope harness- one of my favorite creations, and one of the few things with rope I consider myself quite good at, and more people started to appear.

Now the lifeblood of most of the sex blogs I read seems to be narrative, but I tend to remember evenings, particularly ones with so much going on, not as a seamless flow of events but as specific vignettes. So a few other interesting moments from the evening:

***
Maja and Tyr showed up later in the evening, along with two friends of theirs. We’d had some fun times with them earlier in the summer and it was nice to see them again. Towards the end Maja and I decided tying her up would be a lovely idea, and I got her out of her shirt and bra and spent a while putting a rope corset/harness on her. She has the sort of body that is so perfectly accented by a rope outfit like that- all lush curves. I was quite pleased with the result.

***
One of the other later additions to the party was a friend of Dov’s, who I’ll call K. I’d noted her around a few times and played with her a bit once, though nothing much. But at this party we wound up on the same coach. One of us made an off hand comment about connections between poly and kink, and suddenly we were having an interesting, intense discussion about relationships and dynamics and communication. What it means to be a sub, to be a dom, a top or a bottom, where the lines of power and control and pain and pleasure overlap or intersect. It was one of those long rambling discussions where the thread would be impossible to trace if you went back over it, but where you’re constantly making connections, finding new ways to see things, and one thing someone says connects back to an idea from 20 minutes and 3 topics ago.

Most of the time, when I meet people in a social setting like that, even if there is enough of an intellectual connection between us to lead to that kind of conversation, the situation precludes it. Too many people bouncing around, too many other conversations to flit off to and people to say hello to. Generally if I meet someone I seem to have a real connection with, we’ll exchange information and the real conversations start when we’re chatting online, or when we get a chance to have a meal or a drink together on our own. Having the chance, with the evening still going on around us, pretty people tying each other up, to sit and really talk like that- it was wonderful.

Later in the night I got to play a bit with her. I have a set of claws I can slip onto my fingers and do fun scratching things with, and I’d been running them along her legs off and on as we talked, dancing along that line between flirtation and friendly massage. Eventually my hands moved to her cleavage, and when her train of thought was temporarily interrupted by a pleasant sigh, I moved with more precision to her upper thighs. We were both standing at this point, so I moved behind her and raised her skirt enough to run my claws over her thighs, and when I raised the skirt high enough to expose her ass, it seemed incumbent to remind her how much nicer the claws felt on an ass that had just been spanked. Now, such a statement clearly needs scientific verification, so she was soon up against the wall, mewling deliciously as I spanked her ass, and ran the claws over the newly pink flesh.

Things didn’t progress much further, or for very long, but it was a lovely few moments. It would appear that initial research supports my afore mentioned theory. Though further research is, of course, always warranted.

The best part- I’m tempted to draw upon that old cliché about the conversation being foreplay to what happened later, but even that doesn’t quite fit. It was more- a nice finale, but not the highpoint. A lovely dessert that finishes out a marvelous meal, tying up the loose ends nicely, but not necessarily the best part of the experience.

***
Then there were Tyr and Maja’s friends. I’ve not seen a more entertaining couple in some time- those two should do erotic stand up. Between this hysterically funny banter back and forth between them as he teased her about what he had planned for her and she protested to her squealing as he did wonderfully sadistic things to her, to her dress riding up her thighs and over her ass as she squirmed to get away- they could sell tickets.

***
I’ve not mentioned Emma tonight- she was a bit held back from most of the evening’s activities, which, oddly, is a really good thing. One of the things we’ve learned as we’ve built our relationship together is that I’m one hell of an extrovert, while she’s much more of an introvert. We’ve had problems with that in the past, where I want us to go out and be social together, and she’d rather stay home. Over time, we’ve found a happy balance- sometime leaning more to one side or the other, but sometimes, like this night, finding a nice middle, where I can go and be social and bounce around and she can enjoy being among people but be happy to hang back and mostly just watch and listen. Every now and then as I was deep in conversation or flirting with someone yummy, my eyes would find Emma’s for a moment and we’d share a smile, and I knew all was well.

***
Our last vignette of the evening takes us back to where I began- Sakura. As I mentioned I’d been quite attracted to her from the moment I laid eyes on her. We tried a few rope things on each other, and had a few nice conversations, but I wasn’t quite sure if the energy between us was flirtatious. Sometimes I just know, and other times- its not that I miss things, its just that I’ll often be intentionally a little obtuse. I’d far rather miss a subtle signal then interpret something meant as friendliness for more, and be overly aggressive with someone not eager for my advances. It’s an interesting line to walk, since my flirtation style can, not sometimes be rather aggressive in and of itself- I just try and be quite careful when it comes out to play.

Sometimes, I’ll later wind up having some fun with a person and thinking, wow, they were flirting with me all night and I missed it! With Sakura- I’m not sure. She might have been- or it might just be that when she was sitting next to K and my claws were exploring both of their thighs in turn, K took a liking to it. Or that when she had been wonderfully tied up by Dov and my hand found her ass and started to warm it, she hadn’t considered the idea of playing with me before but thought it in the moment a yummy idea. Either way I had great fun getting her to make pretty noises- first with just my hands on her ass and tits, and then later in the night with a few of Dov’s floggers that he was good enough to loan me. Apparently I left a lovely mark or two on her breasts from my hand. Yum.

When you walk into a party and your first thought is, wow that girl is yummy, and you wind up with her in just panties, your arms wrapped around her, stroking her hair as she catches her breath after you’ve had deliciously wicked things to her- good night. Very good night.

The ultimate male fantasy, geek version...

2008-07-22T12:01:00.002-04:00

According to beer ads, and other bastions of male culture, I'm supposed to enjoy the idea of two women fighting with each other over my sexual prowess. Always seemed silly to me, but there you go.

Last night, two deliciously sexy women were arguing over which one could teach me how to read and translate biblical Hebrew, something I've wanted to learn for a while. Then they found a way to work together, and tag-teamed me.

My life is a very good, very surreal, but very good thing.

Hairspray and Shortbus

2008-07-08T21:37:00.000-04:00

I saw two movies this last weekend, both of which had been high on my “to-see” list for a while, Hairspray and Shortbus. On one hand they’re pretty far apart, the campy musical about interracial dancing and body acceptance in the 1960’s, and the full frontal exploration of various people finding their way through a sexual underground in post 9/11 New York. Somehow, though, both movies connected with me and tied into a few of the themes I’ve often visited in these pages of body acceptance, sexuality and spiritual connection.

Hairspray first. I’ve loved musicals ever since I was a kid, but somehow this one just never excited me. It looked too cheesy, too Hollywood, all build up and no real delivery. Suffice to say, I was blown away. The music alone is wonderful; I’ve been humming it for three days since I saw it. And the story, while cotton candy sweet, has some powerful messages.

On the surface, it’s the classic ugly duckling story, where the heroine does not conform to classic beauty standards (in this case being somewhat heavy) but finds that one guy who can look inside and see her true beauty. Nice, but clichéd, and so often those stories seem to never actually challenge the standards of beauty. Those movies often tell us, well its not that the person IS hot, it’s that their prospective partner discovers something about them that makes them hot- even though they are too fat/thin/old/poor/ugly, what have you. The basic idea, that this person does not conform to traditional ideas of beauty and thus must find some other part of her nature which redeems her attractiveness, isn’t really challenged.

Instead of falling into that cliché, Hairspray turns it on its head. When our heroine finally lands her dreamboat it’s not because he’s learned to see past her body- it’s that he’s seen how she dances, how comfortable she is in her own skin, how alive and sensual and sexual she is, and he sees how attractive that is, how attractive her moving, slinking, dancing body is. The more he gets to know her the more he falls for her, but its how she looks when she moves her body to the music that first really catches his eye- her comfort in her own skin and with her sexuality. In contrast to all the other girls who are model thin but terrified to move their hips to the music, Tracy, our heroine, lets her body come alive when she dances, moving as a sensual, sexual creature, and gets noticed for it.

That was pretty refreshing to see from a movie, not to mention the aforementioned toe-tapping, hum along, get stuck in your head music.

The other movie I saw was Shortbus. Between friends I knew who had been tangentially involved in its making to people reading my blog and telling me how much my stories reminded them of the movie, (having seen the movie I would disagree, but more on that later) to just all I heard about it, I had been wanting to see it for quite some time.. When our plans to see Wall-E got sidelined by the theater being sold out, Rachel, Emma and I settled in for a night of snuggles and Shortbus.

I think the best way I can explain my reaction to the film is that I liked the concept of the movie a good deal more then I did the movie itself. As one friend put it and I thoroughly agreed, I’m really glad I saw it, but I would have little urge to see it again.

From the first moments of the film, which jump back and forth between scenes of a man jerking off and trying to suck his own dick, a couple fucking and pleasuring each other in every position imaginable (and a few I’d never considered) to a man being beaten by a dominatrix and then masturbating at her command, all of which are shown in graphic detail, you get the clear impression that this movie is going to talk about (and show) sex in a way most movies only imply. That alone makes the movie worthwhile- it was so refreshing to see a movie that shows people having sex without falling into the conventions of porn. The sex is shown without meaning to titillate or arouse- it just is a part of what is going on. Even during the group sex scenes at the Shortbus parties (a salon style community where artist hang out and perform and where sex parties take place)- there are moments that are incredibly hot, but the camera shows them and then moves on.

More then anything, the portrayal of sex seemed incredibly real to me, in a way you almost never see in movies where everything is perfect romantic lighting and symmetry. A woman gets a leg cramp while masturbating, people awkwardly flirt and find each other at a sex party, three guys laugh and deal with figuring out which body part goes where while enjoying a 3some. That realism- about sex itself, about flirtation, about orgasms, was powerful and something I’d love to see from other movies.

So all of that should be the set up of a great movie, right? The problem is, having done so much to create the backdrop against which to tell an interesting story or introduce us to compelling characters, the movie fails to do either I don’t want to turn this into a review, and calling an art house movie about artists too artsy is probably an exercise in futility. And there were certainly moments that were poignant and character interactions that really hit me. But for the most part the story itself left a lot to be desired.

For one thing, the story focuses almost entirely on people who are newcomers to the sexual world of Shortbus. I would have really liked to see an exploration of at least one or two characters that are already in that space, and living that life. Having characters who are new to it gives a good vehicle to explore and certainly gives more to relate to for anyone who has no context of group sex and play parties, but you never get to see the people who are already in that world as anything more then exotic and foreign.

The denizens of Shortbus seem at their best when they are naked and fucking- the couple who are most romanticized and eroticized, and who in the end seem to provide erotic fulfillment for at least one of the characters, never speaks a word. They are a powerful presence, and certainly that highlights one aspect of the play party scene that can be incredibly beautiful, namely the encounter that is both anonymous and deeply intimate. But when every one of the other Shortbus regulars who does open their mouth is either cringworthily overly aggressive or downright mean, it doesn’t paint a flattering picture.

It doesn’t’ help that all of the characters who are exploring Shortbus for the first time seem to be doing so out of some kind of mental/sexual/psychological hole in their lives. We never meet the couple who have a great sex/romantic life and are excited to bring others into it, which is unfortunate since I’ve so often heard it repeated as almost a mantra that looking to group sex or the like to save a failing relationship or deal with other issues is a recipe for disaster.

For a movie that seems to challenge so many pieces of movie-making conventional wisdom, it was sad to see it fall into so many clichés, particularly a long middle section which seems to tell us that Shortbus is fine for the people already part of that world, but anyone else risks damaging their relationship/emotional health if they come too close.

My last critical point- for all the movies focus on how the people of short bus are the miscreants and oddballs and freaks (which was in and of itself another part of the movie I loved) – everyone of the main characters is beautiful. It’s a movie, I know, and no matter how far from the conventions of Hollywood you get, you’re still gonna deal with that, and I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I was. So much of what I’ve enjoyed about play party/sex community has been spaces where all body types are loved and appreciated, and while there were a few shots of larger people, they came off as tokenistic. On this point I’m probably being far too critical and expecting too much of a movie, but coming right after seeing this issue dealt with so well in Hairspray, I couldn’t help but notice.

As for the parties themselves- I thought the way they were portrayed was wonderful. The movie captures the hotness, and freedom, but also the awkwardness, the spontaneity, the humanness. There was none of the cult of decadence feel of movies like Eyes Wide Shut- part of what I often find so enjoyable about sex parties is that they make things that seem so strange at first, like public sex or group sex or sex with strangers, seem perfectly natural. Beyond that, it challenges whatever made us thing they aren’t natural in the first place. That element the movie captures really well

The party in Shortbus is deeply pan gender, and pan orientation. The sweeping scene shots show people playing in all sorts of gender permutations, and trans folk of all sorts appear throughout the movie. That aspect made me really happy, though it has ironically not been my experience, at least not since leaving California. The movie is based on a real community that existed in New York City at the beginning of this decade, and I’m sure those kinds of truly pan spaces do still exist here, but most of my own experience has been of a gulf between straight and queer communities here in NYC. I’ve been to some great parties where they overlapped for a night, like those thrown by Jefferson or others, but the only place I’ve seen the kind of pan-gender/pan orientation space on a regular basis was in California. The movie reminded me how much I miss that.

While talking about gender/orientation, its worth noting that I was also a little put off by how queer women are portrayed. The scenes in the women only space at Shortbus focus almost entirely on talking, not playing, and that talking moves from chit-chat into full on processing on a number of occasions. Interestingly, one of the deleted scenes actually explores this, with the women talking about gender dynamics at play parties. That scene puts an entirely new spin on the issue, and puts it. into a context. Without it, the scenes just come off as vaguely misogynistic. I don’t know if it was taken out just to cut time or as a conscious effort not to add one more interesting issue to the long list the movie already raises, but I was very sorry it was. The role of gender at play parties is such an important one, and by not addressing it, those scenes just ring a little hollow.

More then anything, I think what struck me about the movie was how it showed the way sometimes physicality and sexuality can break down walls and build bridges and connections where words fail. I think that’s a part of why the movie showed the sex scenes the way it did. We spend so much time talking about sexuality, talking about feelings, talking about connection- why not just show it? Why not just do it?

At heart I’m a talking, I’m a processor, and I don’t think it’s a bad thing. I’ve had friends who extolled the bathhouse culture of truly anonymous sexual encounters, and I just don’t think I could do it. I need the connection of words, of dialogue, even if the first time we speak is while cuddling and catching our breath. But there have been times in my life, times in my relationships, when I’ve kissed, touched, caressed, fucked someone, long time lover or total stranger, and we’ve both known that physical moment said more then we possibly could have with words. Said what needed to be said in a moment when words would have failed. That for me is one of the most beautiful things I’ve found in those spaces, and one of the things that Shortbus captured so well.

She says the sweetest things

2008-07-06T23:10:00.002-04:00

When asked why she got suddenly nervous/suspicious, Emma told me "because your kiss had a devious quality."

I'm deeply flattered. Kisses with a devious quality. I want to see if I can get that on a business card.

Mornings

2008-07-05T10:53:00.002-04:00

This morning found Emma and Rachel, both naked, lying in bed and singing camp songs about Papa Shark and Princess Pat, complete with hand motions.

My life is very surreal.

Scenes from a Weekend III

2008-06-30T23:52:00.003-04:00

I’ve been remiss in finishing my re-telling of the many adventures of a few weekends past, and as more and more time passes (bringing with it even more posts to be written) I am realizing I’m never going to have the time to give it all the full treatment it deserves.

So instead, a few more vignettes to round out the adventures of the weekend that I began writing about here and here.

We pick up our tale where we left off, Friday night still at Topdrop's party:

-Rachel has been making friends with a number of wonderfully evil gentlemen of late, and after playing with him at a party a month or so again, had indicated her terror/excitement about getting another chance to play with Dov. As he made a point of laying out his most ominous looking toys and starting to best position her I reminded her not to worry- that his more evil tendencies would of course be restrained by my presence. He nodded in agreement, and we both discussed how safe she was with my being nearby and watching, as he’d not want to do anything while I was there which would cause me to be less inclined to allow him such liberties with her in the future. The look on her face, and her little squeal of terror, when a few moments later I announced my intention to watch a scene taking place in another room and left the two of them alone was priceless.

-Rachel was in true playslut top form that evening. Towards the end of the night we were gathering up our stuff and saying my goodbyes. I turned my back on her for a moment to pack up my bag, and found she had disappeared. I found her in a back room, bend over Topdrop’s lap, receiving a final spanking of the night. Shameless hussy, I do love her so.

Saturday after a lovely lazy morning and afternoon, we hit the road to drive down to Avah’s beach house. Our adventures on the road have already been documented. As for what happened when we arrived…

-Avah proved herself a lovely host. We arrived just as dinner was served. The meal was lovely, the company even better. Breaking bread together is such a nice way to create community. Whether its people coming together to work together on some activist project, to make music or art together or to enjoy a sex party together, a communal meal is such a wonderful way to begin making those connections.

-Emma watched Match, one of the fellows we met that night, do a needle scene with one of the other guests with great interest. When she volunteered to be his next victim/playmate I asked if I could observe and he was more then happy to accommodate, even inviting me to try my own hand at piercing. I don’t think it’s a kink I’ll play with much, but it was fun to learn something new, and I loved seeing the pure joy he had in teaching.

-I wandered off to watch Avah being tied up in pretty ways (rope blindfold!) while Match kept doing pretty things to Emma’s back. Eventually Emma bounced over to show off the pretty designs, and ask if I minded if Match took her into one of the bedrooms. I kissed her deeply, patted her on the ass and told her to have fun. It had been a while since she found someone who made her really light up like that. Of all the goodness of that weekend, seeing how happy and excited she was to play with a new boy was absolutely one of the high points.

-Speaking of excitement over new playmates- Rachel’s adventures in slutdom weren’t quite finished. She had been reading Jefferson’s blog for years, and been quite a fan, but had never gotten to meet him, as all the parties of his that I’ve attended were on weeknights and she can generally only visit on weekends. She was quite excited to hear he’d be at the party, and I saw him casting a few admiring glances her way throughout the night, so I wasn’t surprised to find her naked and writhing as he took a leather strap to her thighs. I took a front row seat, and got to enjoy the double pleasure of an artist at work while Avah knelt between my legs and worked her oral witchcraft on my cock. For a while I enjoyed the show, one hand reaching out to tease Rachel’s nipples or stroke her face as Jefferson toyed with her, my other in Avah’s hair, guiding her as I fucked her face. A man can only multi task for so long however and eventually I got a condom and started fucking Avah from behind, holding her hips in my hands, and enjoying the sounds of Rachel’s whimpers and squeals of panic and delight.

A bit later in the night, Rachel is in my arms, as we’re both catching our breath. She’s commenting on how much fun she had with Jefferson and I comment that a boy who hurt her so nicely deserves to be properly thanked. She nodded sagely in agreement and promptly bounced over to Jefferson and asked her in her best, cute young thing excited about ice cream voice, if she can give him a blowjob to say thank you. Not surprisingly he quickly agreed.

Watching him demonstrate her own Jersey pride on her knees with his cock in her mouth was lovely. Almost as good- hearing her giggle later in the evening as she thought about how jealous one of her friends and fellow Jefferson blog enthusiasts would be when she heard.

-Our weekend ended with a trip to the beach. We had planned to come back late Saturday night for church Sunday morning, but the afore mentioned blown tire killed those plans. Instead we enjoyed a leisurely brunch (another lovely feast, courtesy of Avah) and then headed to the beach. The water was freezing but we had fun dashing in and out, as well as other general frolicking in the sand. When it was time to go, we made the obligatory stop for ice-cream and snow cones, and hit the road, exhausted from a lovely, wonderful weekend.

The Mets are my abusive boyfriend.

2008-06-30T21:50:00.002-04:00

Rooting for the NY Mets is to be trapped in a cycle of abuse. That's the only way I can describe being a fan of this miserable excuse for a team.

Every time I’m ready to give up on this team they win a game in truly beautiful fashion. They convince me, no, this time it will be different, this time we really HAVE changed. Then they hit me again with back to back ugly ugly losses and I wonder why I ever even bother, and remind myself that I’m a fool to have ever believed them.

Any Red Sox or Cubs fans know of a home for survivors of abusive teams I can visit?

A good night

2008-06-26T13:54:00.002-04:00

Avah paid me a visit last night. We've been getting together about once a
week or two for a few months now, and it’s been quite a nice addition
to my life. We established early on that we're not interested in
exploring things romantically, and it’s become the kind of sexual
friendship I treasure. She's off to France for a month sometime soon,
and has been going through some hard times of late, so I wanted to
make this a particularly nice day.

She showed up just in time for us to make a showing of Get Smart. It's
not Hitchcock, its not art cinema, but if you need to do nothing but
laugh for 2 hours straight, this is the movie for you. Not to mention
the fact that Anne Hathaway in a long slinky, slit up to her hips
dress is one of the most "I'll be in my bunk" worthy sites I've seen
in some time. If Maja's tits can cure cancer, then Hathaway's legs
just may be the cure for the common cold. I'm not normally a leg man,
but dear gods she looks hot in this movie.

Avah and I both thoroughly enjoyed it, and left the movie chatting
about it, and about her interest in corset making. When we got home, I
quickly got her naked but the energy just wasn't flowing in a sexual
way so making out became petting became cuddling became holding each
other and drifting off for a short but well needed nap.

We spent almost an hour in that pleasant, almost asleep, cuddled and
resting kind of way. Eventually I turned on the TV to see if Jerry
Manuel's tirade had awoken any of the fire the Mets had been lacking
of late. When Maine retired the side with ease, I started to get
exited. When Reyes let off the Mets' half of the first inning by
creating a run in the way he does when he's at his spark plug best, I
started smiling. When Wright, deep in a slump the last few weeks hit a
long home run in that same first inning, I started to really believe
this team might not be completely hopeless after all. I doubt they're
World Series bound, and they may still suck the rest of the year, but
I feel like they got back at least a little of the heart, the energy,
the spark, they had been missing since their collapse last season.

We watched the first half of the game or so, my hands lazily exploring
her naked back, my fingers entwining in her hair as we chatted
about fantasy baseball and players from the past. Girls who follow
baseball are hot, plain and simple, and while Avah's interest in the
sport faded a few years ago, she still knew enough to discuss the game
with me, and knew when to root and celebrate. Hot.

A few innings into the game, David Wright came up to the plate again,
and she suggested it would be a good time to hit a home run- which he
promptly did. We laughed and thought it was funny, till the next time
Reyes was at the plate. Two runners on base, potential to bust the
game wide open and she suggests it would be a great time for Reyes to
hit a home run. I'm still explaining how incredibly unlikely that is
given Reyes' hitting style when he sends a ball deep into the
bleachers for a 3 run homer.

I think I'm going to have her at my side making predictions for more
Mets games in the future. Not to mention the next time I buy a lottery
ticket. That's one hell of a skill!

Speaking of her skills, it would be hard to keep her head in my lap
for long and NOT think thoughts of cock sucking. The lady did win a
contest, after all. The game and the victory and the cuddling seemed to have us both a little more fired up, and I thought it a good time test the waters. I'd taken my own pants off for cuddling, and with my hand in her hair, a simple turn of her
head brought her lips to my cock. If I had any doubts that the mood had shifted to a more sexual tone, the enthusiasm with which she took me in her mouth quickly put that to rest.

Talent is good when it comes to cock sucking, and something Avah has
in spades. But if I had to choose, give me enthusiasm any day of the
week and twice on Sunday. When Avah took me in her mouth, she sucked
like there was nothing else in the world she cared about in that
moment. So fucking hot.

Eventually I reached for a condom. Avah moved to her hands and knees
and I put on the condom and moved behind her. I ran my hands over her
ass, caressing her skin, as I lined myself up and started to thrust
into her. Her head was resting on the bed, her ass up in the air as I
fucked her. I could hear her whimpering and moaning and my hands ran
up her back into her hair. I pulled her hair as I thrust harder into her, and
she came up off the bed, arching her back and letting me take her
deeper.

When I knew I was near the edge, I slipped out of her cunt,
pulling off the condom and bringing my cock to her lips. She eagerly
took me in and I felt my whole body go tense, every muscle held taught
for that one long agonizing moment until my cock was spasming against
her tongue and my cum was spilling into her mouth.

We collapsed on the bed together and I just lay there, stroking her
hair, catching my breath, as the sound of the Mets continuing to
trounce their opponent echoed in the background.

Long suffering

2008-06-25T01:30:00.001-04:00

I’ve often said that I’m not much of a switch. That I’m happy to just enjoy sex that doesn’t have a kinky/bdsm dynamic, but when I do play those kinds of games, I’m pretty exclusively a top/dom. But now I’m wondering if in some small way I’m wrong, as its becoming clear that rooting for the NY Mets this season is an act of extreme masochism.

I was at the game tonight and it was just awful. Bad hitting, bad pitching, bad fielding. More then anything the team is just playing like they have no heart, no pride. No love of the game. What I’ve loved about the best iterations of this team, be it 86, 99, or 06 was their grit, their hustle, their pure love of the game and joy playing it. Reyes wasn’t the only one who brought that energy, but he was the symbol of that, their sparkplug. Now, the whole team looks dead, from him all the way down through the line up. Even the manager getting himself thrown out couldn’t get them fired up.

The Mets are my team. Always have been, always will be. But right now, I just wish I could safeword.

Housekeeping, Baseball, and a Request for Help.

2008-06-24T15:26:00.004-04:00

I have a good deal still to tell from that amazing weekend, not to mention a story or two more from this weekend that just passed. In time, dear reader, in time.

For now, a request. My readership is slowly but surely expanding, and I feel if I'm going to have so much company over, maybe its time to pretty the place up a bit.

I started this blog in a very bare bones capacity, but its time for that to change. I want to make it look nicer, as well as add some links and the like. Saying I want this blog to look more professional doesn't seem quite apt but... you get the idea.

So. Any kind soul with a talent for blog design wish to help me? I'd be happy to chat by IM/email or even meet up in person if in the NYC area, and will happily compensate with guitar lessons, massage, sexual services, floggings, a home cooked meal or any other service I can offer. Or just send me ideas and talk a technical newbie through some things online. Any help you can offer would be loverly.

In other news, baseball seems to be in my life quite a bit lately. I found a new blog to read in large part because of her lust for Met superstar Jose Reyes. Emma and I have been joyously flirting with a lovely couple who agree with me that being a Yankee fan is proof of a defect in character. And tonight, we have tickets to the Mets game.

I just hope the rain stays away.

Scenes from a Weekend II

2008-06-19T11:11:00.002-04:00

Scene 2: Topdrop’s house, a little later that same evening.
*note for those wondering why these scenes are all about the kink without the any actual fucking. Topdrop’s parties are play parties, where the energy leans much more toward bdsm then anything that would technically be defined as sex. As for whether what happens is still sexy as hell… read and decide.

Topdrop has Rachel naked and writhing in his arms. He’s sitting down, legs spread and her between them, her head on his chest and her arms wrapped around him in a position that wonderfully exposes her chest and thighs, and he’s using that to full advantage, doing a variety of wonderfully wicked things to her tits, thighs and cunt. He’s quite good at reading his playmate and is keeping her just on the edge of it becoming too much, and I’m watching her face knowing she’s in that delicious mix of lust, pleasure, pain, anticipation and utter terror. I’m sitting nearby, partially to let her know I’m close, but mostly just so I can watch the artist at work.

At one point, I reach my hand out and place it on her thigh. She looks over at me with relief, knowing she’s safe. We lock eyes for a moment and I smile back at her- just as my hand on her thigh tightens and start’s to squeeze.

Scene 3: Topdrop’s house

Maja and I had been flirting a bit on line and when our discussions started to move from idle possibilities to discussions of specific possibilities, she suggested I talk to Tyr, as they feel most comfortable playing with others when both of them are involved. This made my little poly heart flutter. I love when I can invite people in to the dynamic that I share with Emma or Rachel, and it’s a joy to get to similarly invited in.

Tyr and I talked for a while, both just getting a better sense of their dynamic and how I might best fit, and to discuss some specific ideas. We discussed Maja’s love of floggers, and the possibility that she might enjoy a few of my other favorite toys. Most importantly, Tyr and I realized as we talked that we shared similar styles when it comes to topping- we both enjoy the mental as much as the physical and we put our minds together to come up with a few evil ideas.

As to how it turned out- I’ll let them tell you in their own words.

Tyr’s account. As I said in an earlier post, this weekend wound up being all about sharing. Having spent so much time watching the joy on the faces of people I loved, it was quite a pleasure reading his account of similar feelings watching Maja's reaction to me.

As for Maja's account of the evening, and the follow up- consider my ego properly stroked, though I might debate her accounting of my playmates (9 jillion, jessh :) ).

3 scenes down. And the night, and the weekend, was still young...

Scenes from a Weekend

2008-06-15T23:18:00.002-04:00

Scenes from a weekend

*This post wound up being very long, so rather then throw it all at you at once, I’ll put it out in a few posts. If the result is somewhat teasing… all the better.*

Last weekend (a week ago) was a whirlwind and today I finally have enough time to properly write about it. There were pretty girls being flogged, rope bondage galore, sex and sharing, new friends and playmates, most of whom have blogs of their own, frolicking at the beach, ice cream, sno-cones, and re-affirmation that Jersey girls give fantastic head. So I bring you a few scenes from these three days of debauchery and merriment.

But first- the cast of characters for the weekend's adventures: some who are old favorites, some making their first appearance on this page.

Adam: myself, your loyal narrator and guide.
Emma: My fiancé, and partner in crime.
Rachel: My girlfriend. College student, sex-kitten and recent addition to the sex-blogosphere. Also, while currently a resident of NY, she traces her roots to New Jersey, a fact which will prove deeply relevant.
Maja: A young lady I’ve recently met and had the pleasure of flirting with. Brunette, body that could stop traffic at 20 paces, and the most adorable giggle when she’s nervous. Yum.
Tyr: Maja’s boyfriend. Tall, German. Evil minded. A perfect fellow schemer.
Jefferson: Sex blogger, bourbon drinker, and gentlemanly host of some of the best play parties I’ve ever been to. If you spend any time in the sex blog world, you’ve probably already found his writings. If you haven’t- go there. Now.
Avah: I met her at one of Jefferson’s parties about a year and half ago and was quite taken with her, and even more so after the first time we played. We only saw each other at parties and pretty much lost touch, but then a few months ago I found her on Okcupid and she’s been showing up in my life, and in my bed, on a fairly regular basis ever since. A beauty, a masochist and a Jersey girl of the highest order.
Topdrop: I met this fellow late last year when I had the honor of attending one of his kink-play parties, and have had great fun at his events ever since. He had expressed interest in playing with Rachel, and her reaction- a mix of terror and excitement, had me eager to grant his wish. Oddly, for this post at least, he has no blog that I know of.
Match: A friend of Avah’s from DC, with a talent for doing fun things with needles, and then documenting them.
Dov: An old friend who I’ve recently gotten to re-connect with. Skilled at rope, single tails, and all other things sadistic, he and I are finding we work quite well as a team.

Other then Emma and Topdrop, they all have blogs or websites. I feel like such a name dropper.

As for the weekend’s adventures- a few scenes:

Scene 1: Topdrop’s house, Friday evening.
We’re surrounded by people, at a party on Friday night at Topdrop’s house, but when Emma slips out of her skirt, and leans naked against the wall, I’m unaware of anything but her naked form. It’s such a cliché, and of course on some level I don’t fully lose sight of what else is around me- I’m an exhibitionist and love admiring onlookers, and in close quarters, as Topdrop’s parties are, its wise to always be aware of where others are- but as much as that situation ever allows total focus, mine was on Emma. My mood was distinctly mischievous, and I started teasing her- leaning in and breathing lightly on her neck, running my hands down her sides and over her back, just the finger tip brushing against her… and then my hand landing on her ass with a hard smack. She is so wonderfully responsive and when I tease her like that I feel like I’m playing an instrument. She sighs and purrs at the caress and then when my hand finds her ass, it’s like all the tension I’ve built up is released. I once read the phrase “a sensual twang” and it’s the best way I can describe it.

We played like that for a while, my hands and breathe moving eventually to floggers. After an appropriate crescendo I laid down the floggers and took her in my arms, holding her close and letting her feel my body pressed against her back and ass. I turned her to me and kissed her and then I moved to sit on the edge of a coach, pulling her with me. She laid across my lap and I picked up a cane we’d recently bought, that was her special toy. I’m a big believer that part of what makes poly/open relationships work is to have little ways of letting each person in you life know they are special, unique. Emma knows I’ve been doing some pretty intense play with others these last few months and while she loves it and is happy for me, I knew she wanted something special in that world, something she knew was just for us. Given that and how much she also loved canes, this was a natural choice.

So I bent her over my lap, wrapped one arm tight around her, and started to hit her with the cane. Her head fell into the lap of a pretty girl who had sat close to watch, but when I started to apologize the girl told me it was nooooooo problem at all and reached out to stroke Emma’s hair. Glad Emma was getting extra attention I lifted the cane and brought it down on her ass. Then again. At first, just single strokes, letting anticipation build, each a bit harder then the last. After a dozen or so of those, I started to find a rhythm, bringing the cane down on her ass again and again as my other arm held her tight. At first she squirmed, writhing against the cane but after a few minutes her breathing changed and she just went limp in my arms, floating off into subspace as I held her and struck her ass with the cane.

To be continued…

Daddy's pumpkin

2008-06-14T23:05:00.002-04:00

In a recent post I mentioned I'd started exploring Daddy/little girl play again. It was something I played with a few years back, but when that particular partner and I went our separate ways, that kind of play pretty much fell out of my life. It's something I enjoy to be sure, but was never really a major focus of my play, so I was more then happy to go without. More to the point, my enjoyment of it stems from my partner's enjoyment of it. In some ways, that is true about almost everything I do as a top/dom, but in particular it is true with Daddy play. Playing with someone who has that Daddy fantasy, and helping her create a safe space to explore it- incredibly hot. Having someone who isn't really into it, but doesn't mind trying it out cause she thinks it will get me hot- doesn't work at all. With this kind of play especially- what works is if it comes from my partner.

So, for a while I was happy to just let it go entirely, since it wasn't a kink of any of my playmates. More recently, I've missed it a bit, but was mostly happy to just leave it be.

But when Eden mentioned she thought she was ready to explore that with me- suffice to say I was quite pleased. We've known each other for almost a year, and started seeing each other semi-regularly about a few months back, and been having a lot of fun both in and out of bed. Then when I was away for work for a few weeks we wound up flirting heavily online, and it was in those discussions that the Daddy topic came up.

There was a lot of discussion. Preparation. Anticipation. The result- I'll let you read it in her words, as she wrote it so much better then I could have.

We've seen each other a few times since, and some of it was Daddy time, and most of it was not. Which is for the best for both of us, neither of us is wants it to be the main focus of our time together.

But that night- oh my lord. So very very hot.

Sharing is caring

2008-06-11T21:56:00.001-04:00

There are few better ways to enjoy a sex party then sitting back, watching the action unfold around you, with a pretty girl’s mouth sucking hungrily at your cock. Having the two women you dearly love find new playmate to squee over, only makes it better.

I was on the couch with Avah kneeling between my legs, (Avah its worth mentioning has literally won cock-sucking contests; damn that girl does wonderful things with her lips) with Rachel next to me enjoying the attention of Jefferson. In the other room, I could hear Emma giggling happily as her own new friend, a fellow named Match did fun and dirty things to her.

I wrapped my hands in Avah’s hair and pulled, bringing her face up to mine and kissing her, hard, reaching down to play with her tits and run my fingers over her nipples. I nibbled on her lower lip as my hand in her hair held her tight and heard her whimper against my mouth. I pulled her back and was about to instruct her to return her attentions to my cock when Emma bounced up to me with a grin on her face a mile wide, and asked if I minded if Match took her into the bed room. I looked over at Rachel who was floating in happy land from Jefferson’s ministrations and thought, how could I say no? I went to kindergarten, after all. I know how to share.

By the end of the night I’d watched Rachel learn new cock sucking techniques, stroked Emma’s hair as she purred happily in bed after Match had thoroughly fucked her, and taken my own pleasure from Avah, holding her hips in my hands and thrusting into her with people playing all around us until I threw my head back and roared as I came.

I do so love sharing.

I don't THINK they mean group sex, but...

2008-06-11T21:00:00.004-04:00

I went to a private high school, of the sort that is constantly bombarding their alumni with fund-raising attempts of one sort or another. I'm quite fond of the school, and while I rarely have any money to throw their way, I've spoken their on career day and the like, so I stay in touch.

I got an email today inviting me to a golf outing with the president and assorted minor celebrities. The email offers me the opportunity to participate in a variety of foursomes, some accompanied and others not.

I'm laughing. A lot.

Maybe CL casual encounters will be the new goldmine for fund-raising...

Road side assistance

2008-06-09T13:02:00.001-04:00

Image: We’re pulled over by the side of the highway, one tire blown totally to hell, and I’m sitting in the grass just staying out of the way, because I know absolutely nothing about cars. Emma and Rachel are both wearing tiny skirts in preparation for the party we’re going to, but now they’re working together to jack up the car and change the tire. Their thighs and arms and cleavage are streaked with grease and sweat, and both of them are giggling like mad, and enjoying being so incredibly competent.

We wound up needing a mechanic to finish the job because the tire was throughly stuck, but watching them both bent over, skirts barely covering their asses in the air, working on the car together- damn that was a lovely sight.

Rachel speaks! And it's oh so hot...

2008-06-05T00:24:00.002-04:00

Rachel has started a blog of her own, and having read her writings in other settings for sometime, I wanted to be the first to start pointing people her way. The fact that her first posting is a long discourse on biting and mind-fucks, two of my favorite kinds of play, only makes it better.

Enjoy!

Back on track

2008-05-31T11:14:00.000-04:00

The last few days have been lovely, and exactly what I needed after the realizations of my last post. A date with Rachel and afternoon’s dalliance with Avah, one of the afore mentioned ladies who has been gracing my life and my bed the last few months. (I really do need to do an updated cast of characters.) Each was lovely, and very hot, and hopefully will yield a post or two of their own- but most importantly I felt like things were right again. In control, in the ways I needed them to be. It’s good to be back.

Then last night, Emma and I had a quiet evening at home that involved dinner, snuggling, naked pleasures, and watching the Tudors, all to kick off a low key weekend with little planned but having a friend over for dinner tonight. I love all the crazy in my life, I love sometimes letting things go, but its nice to be able to step back from time to time, to see where things are going too fast for me to know I’m being safe, and adjust accordingly.

There are a few things still to worry about in other parts of life. I have a coffee scheduled in a few hours with someone from a very different part of my life that I am hoping doesn’t involve hearing the bad news I’m afraid it does, but in this regard at least, I’m sleeping a lot easier. As for you, dear reader, wondering where the smut and spirituality you came for has gone, now that this short digression is over we’ll be returning you to your regularly schedule program shortly.

Reality check, edge play and enthusiasm.

2008-05-29T00:02:00.002-04:00

Life has been good lately. Very good. A bit too good perhaps. I’ve caught myself lately slipping a bit, getting too caught up in how good things were, and not slowing down when I needed to. Not often, but in a few different ways all in a short enough period of time to let me know, its time for a reality check.

A few different things that all happened recently:

Realizing I’m getting to a point in my life where I really don’t have room for new relationships. Flirting is fun, and new playmates are always yummy, but I was chatting and flirting with someone new and realizing it had potential for something serious and that I really had to step back and say- wait a minute, no, I’m not in a good place for this now. That the last few months have seen a number of new things enter my life almost spontaneously, and it’s wonderful, but for the first time in a long while- I think relationship wise my plate is full.

I’m also pushing myself too much to be social. I’m not playing music enough, I’m not having enough down time. It’s again, the wealth of opportunities- but this last weekend we skipped a party that could have been wonderful and instead Emma, Rachel and I stayed in and watched movies and snuggled and it was wonderful, probably the best night of the weekend. Even as I discover new friends and social circles and play party communities, I need to keep giving myself permission to have nights like that.

I’ve been doing more edge play of late, and it’s been mostly wonderful and in areas that I know well and have discussed thoroughly with my partners- but a few times I’ve slipped, letting thing go a little further then I might have. A while back a dom mentor of mine told me that the one thing he feared was becoming too confident, too cocky, too sure of himself. The last few weeks I’ve slipped into that a bit- and nothing’s gone wrong, but that’s not good enough when you’re playing with edgy stuff. It’s a good time to back off a bit, do a bit more homework and brush up on all the safety ins and outs of some of these kinds of play, and even more important make 100% sure the people I’m doing it with are fully on board. Having them love it afterward isn’t enough, trusting my instincts and knowing they will love it afterward isn’t enough
Writing it out like this always makes it sound more dramatic, it’s not like I’ve jumped overboard. But a few times I’ve gone a bit further then I should have, let myself ‘trust my instincts’ a bit too much. I let myself get too sure of myself. Good time to step back and take stock a bit.

A lover who got hurt because I didn't think things through enough before guiding her into something new. Getting a full round of STD tests, and coming back clean on all counts, but the experiance getting me thinking about how often I'm being intentional, and that a few times I've let myself act first and think later. Fun at times, but not if I let myself, or more important others, get into potentially bad situations. Reality check, and appreciated. Cause now I'm thinking, analyzing. I trust my instincts, and I think they are pretty good most of them time, but what makes them good is that I do stop and analyze, and that's what I wasn't doing enough of lately.

Interestingly, it seems to be contagious. I started IMing with a blogger whose readings I adore, and who holds mine in similar esteem, and we very quickly went from small talk to intense flirting to finding deep connections. I was surprised, but honored at how quickly our interest in each other flared- not in a, oh we’re both cute, we must be in love way, but in a, wow, you really GET this one small but important part of me that I rarely can share with others kind of way. She was quickly talking about coming to visit me- until she realized her own primary that is still new to poly was going to freak at the idea of her dashing off for a weekend of intense kinky sex with a strong religious bent to it. We had a great conversation and talked about how we can keep connecting while slowing way down and respecting his concerns, but it also just made me laugh. I’m not just having a personal reality check for my own over-eagerness- I’m inspiring it in others.

Outdoor sex, drive in movies, and memories of college

2008-05-27T11:25:00.002-04:00

It took 10 years, but I finally got to have sex on my college rugby field.

All the better because it was the end of quite an evening of adventure including drive in movies, car sex, getting happily and thoroughly lost, Rachel’s beautiful tits, and sex under the stars.

Note- this started as a quick post about a hot night. It turned into an epic post involving smut, introspection, tangents, more smut and a long winding narrative. Enjoy, but for those just looking for a hot story, be warned 

Now back to our blogpost, already in progress. Rachel and I hadn’t had a proper date in some time. We’d been having lots of wonderful time together, snuggling and playing computer games and watching movies and having delicious sex, but along with being geeks and perverts of the highest order we both have a silly romantic side (as does Emma, I’m doubly blessed in this part of my life) and as we hadn’t gotten to enjoy that recently, this was the night to remedy it. She’s spending the summer in the town where I went to college, and had discovered that there was a real honest to goodness drive in movie theater in the area. Neither of us had ever been to a drive in, and we decided that sounded cheesy and wonderful and perfect. So I picked up a couple of sandwiches for dinner, and hoped on the train to meet her. She picked me up at the station, I spent a few minutes gawking at how much things had changed since last I was in town, and away we went.

Now, we’re hopeless romantics, but we’re also perverts of the highest order, and so it hadn’t failed to occur to either of us that we’d be in a dark car, in the middle of a dark field for a few hours, with other people nearby but paying attention elsewhere and not really able to see what was happening in our car. So Rachel had been sure to wear a skirt and have condoms available- you know, in case there were dull parts.

A brief comment on the movie itself- it was the Indiana Jones and it was fun, if a bit silly. Russians aren’t nearly as satisfying bad guys as Nazis. But you’re not reading this for my thoughts on movies, so let me get back to the smut.

We’d had a passionate, lean against the car, wrap my fingers in her hair and pull her to me, kind of kiss in the parking lot of the train station and our hands hadn’t stopped exploring each other since. We often have to go two or three weeks without seeing each other, and it’s never fun, but it means when we finally do see each other, it’s this wonderful energy of re-discovering each other, where cuddling and hugging and grabbing each other tight becomes wandering hands and molesting and groping and then cuddling again. Think of silly junior high love birds who can’t stop cooing at each other, but are also having crazy amounts of sex and you get the picture.

On the drive to the theater we mostly just talked and got caught up and I got to hear more about the amazing research she is doing this summer (Rachel is brilliant, btw, she’s going to Stockholm one day for an award, you heard it here first.). All the while as we talked my hand was on her thigh or in her hair, or tracing her neck. Every red light she’d lean over for a kiss and my hand would slip up her thigh and brush her already soaked panties.

We had some time to kill and stopped a few places, but each time our attention was more on the few moments in each other's arms we could grab. One almost empty parking lot saw her pressed up against the car, kissing each other furiously, my hand between her thighs cupping her in my hand, knowing any passing motorist could tell we weren't just hugging. In another, she climbed behind the wheel but before starting up the car noticed the bulge in my jeans and placing her hand on it asked me plaintivly if she could please; please feel me in her mouth? Not one to deny a pretty girl anything when she asks so nicely, I spent the next few minutes groaning softly as I stroked her hair and face and gently pushed my hips upward to meet her tongue and lips as my eyes scanned for passers-by.

Eventually we got to the drive in, and it was every bit as awesome as I'd hoped. Apparently the spirit of indulgence we were both feeling extended beyond the sexual because a trip to the concession stand sent us back with two sodas, popcorn, nachos and a pretzel, not to mention the sandwiches I'd brought with me. Something about the drive in just inspired that kind of over the top, why the hell not, kind of feeling- not to mention that the whole food order cost less then a single popcorn and drink at your average movie theater these days.

As mentioned, the movie was fun but not terribly engrossing- rather perfect for our mood. Sitting in a dark car, in a row of other dark cars, watching a movie of epic chases and dashing heroes and other only barely hidden sexual themes, I couldn't help but think about what a ritual of youth and lust drive ins are; couldn't help wonder how many others before us had come to drive ins fully intending to give the movie only scant attention, or had better intentions diverted by the combination of a less then engrossing movie and an eager and inviting partner.

The geek in me could go on for a while analyzing this but we have more smut to get to. Enjoying the naughtiness factor, and knowing Rachel squirms so deliciously when she is made to choose between sexual thrills and the possibility of being caught, I took off her shirt and bra and spent most of the first half of the movie with the soundtrack of her moaning and whimpering from my touch adding to the movie. We cuddle and watch movies enough that I've leaned how to tease her just enough to have her enjoying it thoroughly without actually taking away from her ability to follow the plot. This continued for a while, with her hand again finding my cock and stroking me through my jeans, our lips drawn to the others neck or ear during a slow moment.

At one point my hand brushed her panties, and the dampness I felt and the way she reacted (not to mention the movie being at a slow point) told me it was time to turn the dial up a few notches. I debated just pushing her panties aside, but an Indiana Jones movie doesn't seem the time for delicate touches, so I grabbed the wet fabric in my hands and just ripped. There was that beautiful sound of tearing fabric and then all I could her was her panting as my two fingers slid into her pussy. Rachel knows I'll always replace any underwear I destroy and the sharp intake of breath and the way her hips pushed forward against me told me she thought they'd been sacrificed in a good cause. Then my pants were open and her mouth was on me, and after a few more moments I was reaching for a condom.

Car sex is always an interesting question of geometry and physics. More so in small car like mine, doubly so when I'm in the front seat and we'd rather not have the whole world aware of what's going on. But, where there's a will… We leaned my seat back, lifted her skirt above her hips, slipped the condom on me and while I held her hips, she lowered herself onto me. Facing away from me, she pressed her hands against the glass, and I held her tight by the hips and thrust my cock into her again and again. I ran my fingers up her back and along her neck, and watched the windshield fog over from the heat we were generating- the perfect metaphor as the movie fell further and further from our awareness.

Eventually I slipped her off me, and we settled back to our seats to keep watching the movie. I knew the night was far from over, and it WAS an Indiana Jones movie and we didn't want to miss the big finish. So we settled back to watching, but our hands still idly wondering and exploring, keeping this wonderful level of sexual tension present between us.

Eventually the movie ended and we decided to head home so we could properly pounce each other. Only problem- we'd both gotten used to driving with a GPS, which her car didn't have, and neither of us was sure which way to go. Since I'd gone to college near there I had a vague idea of how to get back to the highway, but so much has changed and I was quickly disoriented. We found one street that looked familiar and then another and I felt confident I was on the right path back home- till I realized it looked familiar because I had taken us back to my college campus itself!

At this point, we were far beyond any attempt to get home in time, and had pretty much embraced the absurdity of the situation. We were driving slowly around the campus, both letting me try and figure out the best way back to the highway and enjoying some nostalgia as I recognized favorite haunts and wondered where the hell other new additions came from when I realized that one more turn would take us to the rugby field.

A bit of background- as though this doesn’t have enough tangents already- the two major changes I went through in college involved rugby and sex. Growing up, I was the fat slow kid who loved throwing a ball around with my friends but my only involvement with organized sports was debating the manager’s choices from last night’s Met game or playing a computer game. Why in the world I wound up deciding on a lark to go out for the team, I couldn’t tell you- all I know is I wound up sticking with it for four amazing years, and it fundamentally changed me. I wound up lettering in rugby, and starting on a team that won our division consistently. I gained an appreciation of hanging out with other guys in a way I never had, I gained a comfort with my own body and with getting sweaty and dirty and with treasuring my athleticism. I learned to be part of a team, to work together with others, and let them push me further when my endurance was near an end. More then anything, it was on the rugby field that I learned the power of my own will and the things I could do when I set my mind to something. On a team that welcomed queer members, in a setting that valued masculinity without crossing into misogyny, it was on that rugby field that I learned to be a man.

At the same time, college was where I discovered my sexuality. Not as much that I discovered poly, discovered kink- but that I realized there were names for those things that I wasn’t the one weird guy who was into them. College is where I learned that kink, multiple relationships, poly, being an ethical slut, bdsm and D/s- that those things were not just not unhealthy, but could be healing. College is also where I learned about my own attractiveness, and how to attract others.

Yet for whatever reason, those two parts of my life never really came together. My life in college was pretty compartmentalized, and if we wanted outdoor sex there were so many other places on campus that were easier to get to, as the rugby field wasn’t on campus itself, but was down the road a bit- which was also why we could drive there now.

Keeping with the spirit of the night, I didn’t have a plan, I wasn’t thinking, oh lets go to the rugby field and fuck. I just realized where we were, and had this sudden urge to show Rachel the field. So we drove down this long winding road into the woods, until we came to the field and it was just as I’d remembered it. A beautiful clearing in the woods, with one side cleared out for the road that led to it, but trees surrounding on every other side, so with your back to the road it felt like you were in your own little world. It was the middle of the night, but a full moon and bright enough that we could see the outlines of the field, the uprights standing at each end like sentries, watching over everything.

I got out of the car and just looked out over the field for a few moments. Breathed the air, felt the breeze, and had a whole rush of memories. At first I started narrating the experience to Rachel, trying to tell her about the field and pointing out different things, but I quickly realized I didn’t need to. It’s one of the reasons I love her so- there is so much she and I share but sometimes she is so good at just being present as I experience something powerful, something that she doesn’t fully get, but doesn’t need to. She can just be present with me, holding me and sharing the moment.

There was a long moment of just taking it all in, and then I knew what I wanted, what I needed. To take Rachel, right there at the rugby field, under that beautiful night sky. The grass was soaking wet from a storm earlier that day, so I kissed her hard and leaned her against the car. The engine had been off long enough that the hood wasn’t hot, just pleasantly warm, and she practically purred as I pulled off her skirt (her top had never made it back on) and laid her against the hood, kissing her lips, her neck, her breasts.

My hand slipped between her thighs and she was soaked ( a theme of the evening) and my fingers slipped into her so easily. My mouth was all over her breasts, flicking my tongue and teeth against her nipples, as my fingers curled inside her, finding her g-spot, and feeling her moan and squirm under me. Like Emma, Rachel is so wonderfully responsive, especially to my fingers. Sometimes I tease her, but now I was just pumping my fingers into her again and again, feeling her g-spot with the tips of my curved finger, her naked body splayed against the car looking so wanton, so lush with the grass and trees in the background.

We’ve been playing for over a year, and by now I know her body, know her reactions, and I know when we’re at the point that fingers aren’t enough. She was pushing her hips against my hand, and looking at me in that pleading way and I knew it was almost time to get a condom. Almost. Because I wanted one other thing first.

I kissed her hard and wrapped my hand in her hair and pulled, hard enough to arch her neck and hear her breath out softly, in that way she does when she feels the pull and wants only to fully give in to whatever I desire of her. My lips went to her ear and I whispered just two words, “suck me.”

In a flash she was off the car, and on her knees in the grass, pawing at the front of my jeans. I was quickly freed, and without a word she took me deep in her mouth. When girls ask how to give better head, I rarely know what to tell them, because while there are a few ways in which talent is important, it is always trumped by enthusiasm. Rachel is skilled to be sure, but what makes her blowjobs so amazing is the pure LOVE she has for it. She took my cock in her mouth and started bobbing hungrily on it, licking me, savoring me, as though in that moment nothing else in the world mattered. Leaning against the car, looking out over that beautiful field that held so many memories, leaning back to look up at a starry night, feeling her mouth sucking hungrily on my cock, slowly fucking her mouth with my hips pushing myself deeper into her- I felt like a God.

I could easily have finished in her mouth, but that wasn’t what I wanted. Taking her hair in my hands I pulled her onto me one last time, feeling my cock slip all the way into her mouth and throat, feeling her lips kiss against my base and enjoying that one moment of having her so utterly wrapped around me before I slowly pulled her off and then brought her up to her feet. We kissed again and then I pushed her back against the car.

I slipped on a condom, positioned myself between her thighs and started to thrust into her. She was still so wet, so slick, I could feel her against my thighs as I slammed into her. I told her to look up at the stars, as I leaned over her, kissing her neck, biting her lightly, thrusting into her, taking her.

It was almost ten years since I’d last set foot on that rugby field. But thrusting into Rachel, hearing her cries, and mine, creating one more beautiful memory on that space that was holy ground to me so many years before- it was perfect.

Gotta love delivery

2008-05-12T02:04:00.002-04:00

I had a lot on my mind tonight- nothing bad, just a lot to process, and I wanted some comfort food, but didn't want to have to get dressed or go through the effort of cooking.

So I made a phone call, and half an hour later a nice man from the local Chinese restaurant brought me dinner.

Later in the evening, I was horny, but just didn't feel like masturbating, and Emma was sleeping peacefully and I didn't want to disturb her. So I IM'd a friend and submissive playmate, and a little less then an hour later she was on her knees with my cock in her mouth, bringing me the pleasure I craved.

I love this town. You can get anything delivered.

A beating and a bath

2008-05-09T16:19:00.001-04:00

Emma leaned against the cross, naked, waiting. As ordered to, she had laid out our toys along the edge of the bed so they would be in easy reach for me. I walked toward her, and couldn’t resist taking one long moment just to admire the beauty of her back and ass. I’ve seen this sight so many times, the way her back, so smooth and strong tapers down to her waist and then explodes outward in the curve of her hips. I see her naked every day, have had her in that exact position so many times, and yet each time I can’t help but stop and just look.

But I had more to do then look tonight. Emma has been under quite a good deal of stress and she’d asked me for a night of total release- when she could do an intense scene that took her deep into submission and masochism and let her break down, and release everything that she’s been holding inside for so long.

Earlier in the night, she had knelt at my feet and I’d stoked her hair and given her her instructions. She spent a few hours preparing the house for a party we were having the next night, and bringing me my dinner, following my exact instructions in perfect obedience. When she finished she again knelt at my feet, expectant of what was to come, but patiently waiting for me to be ready for her. I had another 20 minutes of work to do but I wanted to put her to good use, so I had her move to her hands and knees, staying perfectly still as I rested the computer on her back and finished my work. Occasionally my hands would leave the keys to stroke her hair, or caress her hip or tease her clit- enjoying her reactions but keeping my focus on my work.

But now all of that was done. She was leaning against the cross, and I took the chain and fastened it just above her ass, the metal cool against her waist as it held her in place. I ran my hands over her back, over her ass, and kissed the back of her neck…… and then I started to hit her.

Normally, if I’m doing a scene I’ll go slow, starting with a flogger and building the intensity over time, letting her body warm to it, so she can take more and more. But not this time. This time I wanted to break her. I started with a paddle, alternating between her ass and her thighs, first the paddle then my fist. I used a few more toys, though I couldn’t tell you exactly which came when. Mostly what I remember is the hand on the back of her neck, holding her tight. Leaning in to whisper cruel things in her ear, interrogating her about what she had done with other boys, and punishing her for it. And I remember her starting to cry.

Stamping her foot, struggling to get away, but never able to, between the chain and my hand. At first she was shouting and crying out but as the tears started her words left her, until finally I released the chain and lowered myself to the floor, taking her with me, holding her tight in my arms as she cried and cried. We stayed like that for a long moment, her whole body shaking in my arms. I felt the tears on her face as she looked up to kiss me, to kiss every inch of my face, whispering through the tears, thank you. Thank you.

I held her for a while, letting the tears run their course till she was just lying peacefully in my arms. I stroked her hair and kissed her softly and eventually I whispered in her ear that she should go to the bathroom, and draw a bath.

When it was ready I took her by the hand and led her in, kneeling by the edge of the tub as she lowered herself into it. She closed her eyes, and while holding the soap in one hand, and using the other to brush water over her, I bathed her. Telling her how special she was as she relaxed in the tub, letting me bath her and wash her and love her.

I got up for a moment and came back with a book, and sitting on the edge of the tub, while she smiled and closed her eyes, I read to her.

T'was a good, good night.

I think I need cigars

2008-05-06T21:16:00.002-04:00

I have an odd announcement to make, but one I hope many of you kinky types will properly appreciate.

You see last night- I became a Daddy again!!!!

Now, before you ask if Emma has been with child all this time and I just failed to mention- no, I am speaking in terms of Daddy play, not biology. But still- its a beautiful thing, and something I want to shout from the rooftops.

Last night, a pretty girl I've been playing with and talking with quite a bit in the last few weeks decided that she wanted me to be her Daddy. We'd been leaning that way for a while, but last night we made it official.

I've done daddy play before, and it's only one kink among many for me- but it's a powerful one. It fills just one small part of my heart and my play, but it's been something I had been missing in the two years or so since I'd last done it. It's such a particular kind of thing, and I'd been clear with those who have shared my life and my bed in those two years that I never, ever would want them to try this for me, to go into Daddy play for me, if it wasn't something that spoke to them. So, I've enjoyed many other things in that time, and been quite content. But some small part of me has been missing it.

It will remain one small part of my life, and of hers. And it's something that takes us both into a number of emotional minefields, and we will be exploring this quite slowly, with a lot of stops and starts and pauses, I'm sure.

But tonight I'm just happy. Tonight I am feeling incredibly blessed- by this, by the people who have been in my life, by the new lovers who have entered my life recently, by the new flirtation about which blessing is so literally appropriate a word. And I'm happy because tonight, I'm a daddy again.

I need some cigars to give out.

A sexual, spiritual affirmation

2008-05-04T13:32:00.000-04:00

Whatever you do in bed (or in the kitchen, or the park, or the backseat) whatever gets you hot or wet or hard, whatever you do with whoever you like to do it- you are beautiful. You are sacred. You are blessed.

A few things recently have reminded me of how much hate, anger, and just pure fear still exists around sexuality in this world, and how much of that is based and grounded in the same faith tradition that I see as so affirming of sexuality. Not that I had forgotten- I know those things are out there. The idea that sex is shameful or dirty or wrong and that the body is an occasion of sin and that pleasure is to be avoided- I know those ideas are out there and still carry so much weight, and take most of their strength from the same church I love. But a few things I’ve experienced in the last few weeks really drove them home- put me face to face with all of that.

For the last few days I’ve wanted to grab every kinky, slutty, queer, deviant, perverted person I know and hold them close and tell them, you are beautiful. Not in spite of what you do, not so beautiful a soul that your sexuality can’t tarnish that beauty- but because of your sexuality. Because of your fantasies. You are sacred.

You are beautiful for finding in yourself who it is that you love, or lust for, for knowing and taking pride in your desires and love in whatever form they may take. You are sacred for embracing your sexuality in all of its beauty and glory, and owning it, choosing to share it with whoever you wish, however you wish, on the terms you choose. When you make love to one special person or fuck the brains out of the couple you meet on craigslist whose names you never learn, when you delve into fantasies that are dark and twisted and degrading are evil- to find that in yourself, to explore it with people you trust, and to honor it- that it divine.

The joy of boots

2008-04-01T17:36:00.000-04:00

As a part of the D/s dynamic between us, Emma is responsible for caring for my boots. She puts them on me and laces them up when we are getting ready to go out, takes them off when we come home, and keeps them polished and looking pretty. Until recently I just had a basic pair of leather boots that I wore into the ground but recently, as that dynamic between Emma and I increased, and after attending a few classes on boot-blacking and all the hotness that surrounds good leather boots, we decided I needed something more.

So after some research, shopping and planning- I am now the proud owner of knee high, black leather, 20 eyelet, steel-toed, British paratrooper boots.

Emma polished them thoroughly after we got them and they look- amazing. So incredibly sexy. I don’t think I ever really “got” why boots are so sexy to some people before, but the first time I put them on- Gods, it was such a rush. Wearing them I feel sexy- powerful. It effects how I walk, how I interact with the world- every step I take, I can feel my whole calf being held tight and snug by the leather, I can feel the weight of the steel toe. You can’t meander in those boots- every step you take has purpose.

My dominance isn’t a role I play, nor is it all I am. I’m quite happy in vanilla sexual situations, or situations where none of that I relevant. When I do slip into a more kinky mindset, when I’m with a lover who enjoys my hand in her hair, or my teeth on her flesh or my voice whispering commands in her ear- whatever it is that comes to the surface is something that’s an integral part of who I am. But whatever that is- putting on those boots brings it to the surface.

There are a few hitches. They aren’t exactly easy to take on or off. That’s the point and having Emma kneel and tie me into them is deliciously erotic, but not terribly convenient. Though for the most part that’s not a bad thing, it just means they are saved for special occasions, which is fitting. The only real downside is that they are a bitch and a half to drive in, which is when I most notice how much work they are to put on and take off.

But that’s one small sacrifice to make, and oh so worth it. I love these boots. I love the woman who cares for them. I love that I’ve heard stories for many years about boots and their meaning in the bdsm worlds, and now have some idea what that’s about. I love that I can wear these boots and a few places I go, a few people will look at me just a little differently. I love playing with power, and respect and all the things these boot represent.

I love these boots.

A delicious evening of kink and sex at Chez SexualSpiritualist...

2008-03-29T11:51:00.002-04:00

So Friday night, Emma and I hosted a play party. It was something of an experiment, and quite a successful one, and we’ll hopefully be hosting more in the future. In a later post I’ll talk about what we learned, what went well, what didn’t, want will change for next time. Because I’m a geek and I love to analyze everything, and enough of you out there in sexblog land attend/plan play parties that it seems a good topic for discussion. But for now- just a few moments from a very very hot night.

The party happened to fall on Good Friday, which was wonderfully ironic since we were celebrating the fact that we had acquired a wonderful new St. Andrews Cross, a piece of bdsm play furniture. So a few of my guests thought it only fitting to do a crucifixion scene. Two of the gentlemen in attendance are quite skilled at needle play, and decorated a few of the ladies quite beautifully. One of them got needles through her arms, and then had a ribbon wrapped around the needles and then the arms of the cross. Not nails but- it made quite a visual.

One woman who attended the party, who is quite tall with deliciously long legs, spent most of the evening in nothing but a sweatshirt that just barely covered her ass, and thigh high stockings. So wonderfully hot.

Two of the women arrived and promptly starting making out on the couch. This seemed to be their default- both girls played with others and chatted with people and moved around the party, but anytime they both had nothing to do they went back to making out A few times Emma joined them for a three way kiss or many handed grope session.

Rachel was on spring break and had been spending the last few days in “slave mode”; basically a time of high protocol submission. For the party she was wrapped up in a chain harness, with the remainder of the chain running along the floor to where it was secured, giving her plenty of room to roam throughout the party. Guests greatly enjoyed her outfit, and hearing the light clang clang as she moved about. She was not allowed to make eye contact with the guests, but had to refer to all as Sir or Ma’am, speak only when spoken to, and do all she could to keep our guests happy. She kept drinks refreshed, brought people toys when needed, and even made a willing plaything for those who wished to enjoy her. Early on in the evening, a boy she’s flirted with and played with in the past and is quite fond of asked to play with her, and as she wasn’t busy I gladly agreed.

He had her strung up on the cross and spent a good deal of time making her squirm and whimper by running blades against her skin, and then grinding against her and kissing her hard. Eventually he had her worked up to distraction and after some quick whispering she came over to me and asked me in a quiet voice if she could take the nice boy in the other room and suck him off. I asked everyone to quiet down for a moment, and told her to repeat her request for all to hear. She blushed and fidgeted and looked generally adorable, but when she finally asked in a loud voice if she could suck off the nice boy, I kissed her and told her to go ahead. She squee’d and ran into the other room with him and from his grin a little later had a wonderful time.

It was a good night to meet new people. I spent various intervals of the party with my face between the thighs of a pretty new friend, hearing her sigh softly and using my fingers and tongue to make her moan. She enjoyed watching and a few times I’d have her on the edge of the bed, my finger inside her as we watched other things. Later, I invited a fellow who I’d seen her eyeing earlier to have some fun with her, and got to watch her eyes go wide with excitement as he started to finger her.

The other new person I played with had come with a friend of mine; a gentlemen who I’ve found makes a wonderful ‘team mate.’ I got to watch him do a host of delicious things to her, including the crucifixion scene described above. Later in the evening I started chatting with her and then using my claws on her thigh- which then became her back, and then her breasts. Before long she was naked with my fingers inside her and my friend, the teammate, toying with her nipples, as we took turns making her hold off on cumming until given permission. My hand would leave her clit and move up to wrap around her throat while his fingers took my place, and she’d squirm and buck and cry out. I do so love teamwork.

There were other wonderful moments that I saw, and still more I missed while otherwise occupied but heard about later. And there will be analysis soon.

But all in all- a hot, hot night.

The sweetness of anticipation

2008-03-16T08:30:00.001-04:00

I woke up early this morning. I woke up in the best possible way, slowly coming awake at my body’s own pace, no alarm, no rush. I woke up knowing I had plenty of time, and I could lie in bed for an hour or more before it was time to be on my way.

More then anything though- I woke up horny.

Emma is still sleeping. I’m typing on my laptop, and her body is curled up against me as I sit up in bed, and I can hear her soft breathing, feel the warmth of her against my side. In an hour or so the alarm will go off, signaling its time to get up and get dressed and head to church. But it won’t be the alarm that wakes her this morning.

For now I want to let her sleep. But soon I’ll lean over and kiss her, let my hands start to trace over her body. Sometimes I’ll wake her by simply taking her, but this morning I want to seduce her. I want to see her slowly come awake to the feel of my hands on her breasts and hips, my lips and teeth brushing her neck. I want to hear her sigh contentedly and feel her arms wrap around me and pull me close as she lets herself wake up, but only just- awake enough to know what is going on and to respond, but still hazy enough to just float along as I caress her.

She and I have both been so crazed and hurried of late; we’ve not had much time for each other. Soon that will change. Rachel is asleep in the other room and she and I have a lot planned for the coming week, but this morning is all about Emma and I.

Soon I’ll take Emma in my arms. But not quite yet. Right now, I want to let her sleep just a few more minutes. Stroking her hair. Marveling at how beautiful she is and how lucky I am to have her in my bed. Wanting her. Anticipating what is to come later this morning.

Soon.

Sex and Money and Kink, oh my....

2008-02-26T16:28:00.000-05:00

A friend and occasional lover is eyeing an ornate bookcase of mine that she knows I’m planning to sell as I get ready to move. . She asks with a coy look if I might accept alternative means of payment, and when I nod and smile, she sinks to her knees and reaches for my belt…

While Benjamin looks on hungrily, I strip Rachel down to nothing but a thong, boots, and her collar and leash. Holding her by the leash, we walk slowly around the modified St. Andrew’s cross that Benjamin has build for me, and its beautiful. Sturdy, eye hooks appropriately placed, visually striking, and most importantly able to be broken down and stored in my closest when I have vanilla guests or just need the extra space. I run my hand appreciatively over it, and tell him its perfect, exactly what I wanted. I kiss Rachel hard, and then tug her leash and bring her to the cross, fastening her wrists and adjusting her body so her ass is displayed just perfectly and ready for hands or floggers or other attention. I turn to Benjamin and tell him its time to collect his payment, the first of five hour long play sessions with her in exchange for the cross, and with a grin he starts to run his hand over Rachel’s back, ending with a smack of her ass. She squirms and whimpers and I can tell from his face he thinks he got the best end of the deal. As he starts to torment her, I lean in and whisper dirty things in her ear, telling her that soon this gorgeous piece of equipment will be mine, and that I bought it with her body.

It’s a few weeks before the start of the Iraq war, and to help the peace effort, a group of activists throw a “Sex, not Bombs” party. It’s an all gender, all orientation play party, with dance space, social chill out space and play space. There’s a $10 cover charge, an auction where people can bid on sex toys, sessions with sex workers and a few lovely people who have put themselves up to be auctioned off for a play session that night. In one back room, amateur and professionals of all genders and body types are offering lap dances, some with a few “extras”, all proceeds going to the peace effort.

Emma and I are at a conference of kinky folks, and flirting shamelessly with a pretty girl who is working at a booth selling leather and toys.. She’s rather bold in her statements of interest, and when we ask if she can join us for an hour in our hotel room, she tells us she’d love to, but can’t without the permission of her Mistress/the booth owner. We start negotiating with her Mistress and after a quick trip I’m handing a bottle of single-malt to her, in return for which later in the day, the pretty lady is delivered to our hotel room and thoroughly ravished for an hour.

Sex and Money, Money and Sex. They seem to be so opposed, and on many levels they are, which is probably why when played with properly, they can be so deliciously hot.

I heard a great presentation recently on the interplays of sex and money- how it can be bad and how it can be incredibly hot. The presenter has done a variety of sex work and talked a lot about that; picking apart some of the mythology and stereotypes, talking about how it works and how it doesn’t, what she gets out of it, how she keeps herself safe, both physically and emotionally. We talked about all the different kinds of sex work, as well other relationships where money and sex are exchanged in more subtle ways, everything from the sugar daddy to traditional marriage.

And all of that was interesting, and worth talking about. But what really made it a fun discussion was when she talked about how downright HOT, mixing sex and money can be. The fantasy of it as role-play, the hotness that can be found in the reality, all the ways that money and exchange and currency factor in.

We talked about how edgy it all is, and how like any good kink, that’s where the hotness of it can be found. Of naming that, putting it out there, and playing with it. One point in particular that struck me, that I hadn’t really thought about but which is so true, is that it’s so very much a class issue. The presenter, and most of the audience were middle and upper middle class white folk, somewhere between 18-35. Privileged. Elite. For that social background, talking about money was just NOT done- religion, politics, sex, all are more easily discussed then money. So getting that all out on the table, mixing sex up with issues of class, and money, there is so much potential for hotness there. Plus, its utter brain sex- anything that mixes naked bodies with Marxian analysis of economic power--- yum.

So many role play potentials. The way money interlinks with power- the way money can become almost coercive. Rape play role-played through financial coercion? Blackmail? So many potentials.

I had a lot more to say on this, but my computer has crashed twice and auto –save has failed me both times, and I know how to take a hint. So I’ll just suffice by saying she went into great detail about all kinds of ways of eroticizing the role of money and sexuality, both role-played and otherwise, and it was delicious, and gave me so much to think about.

Particularly those adventures listed above, and others like them. I’ve definitely developed a love for that kind of play- not as much the straight up sex for money with a stranger- but where its two people who know each other and there is desire but the money just pushes it over the edge—or where a submissive and her charms are currency for other exchange—so very hot.

Very very interesting discussion.

OMG YAY!!!- Part I

2008-02-17T22:07:00.005-05:00

That was the text message Angela sent me a little while after slipping out of my hotel room (and bed) after taking part in a late night romp- “OMG, YAY!” One of the joys of hot sex with new friends is enthusiastic comments afterwards and while I’ve gotten some good ones over the years, that one takes the cake.

Rachel, Emma, and I, had gone to a hotel for an event that brought people together for a weekend full of play parties, people wandering around in delicious outfits, vendors selling all manner of wares and many other delights. While wandering through the vendor room the first night we ran into Angela. She has the kind of curvy body that drives all three of us crazy (both Emma and Rachel’s tastes vary from mine but on this we agree, and it’s so much fun to share attractions) and was wearing a white corset top that showed her off wonderfully. We apparently weren’t the first to enjoy her outfit, as her ample cleavage was liberally decorated with lipstick and bite marks, which proved a perfect conversation starter.

We flirted shamelessly in the way these kinds of events make so easy, and soon Emma and Rachel were adding their own marks to her cleavage while I traced a finger along the side of her neck and whispered in her ear, planting dirty ideas in her mind. We had a good deal of fun with her, demonstrating the joys of team work with my teeth on one side of her neck and Emma’s on the other, and after each of the three of us had kissed her thoroughly we parted company. We gave her my cell number, and there were loose ideas discussed about meeting up in our hotel room later in the evening, but we all knew they were just that- loose ideas. Nothing firm. We parted ways, and I had a vague hope we’d see more of her but no expectation and was content to have just enjoyed what was, and head off for our next adventure. I learned along time ago how much better events like this weekend are when you don’t have expectations.

So Emma, Rachel and I continued our wanderings. We had dinner, saw a great performance, hung out with some new friends and had a few lovely adventures, (including Rachel getting stripped naked and having a friend run knives all over her quivering body— soooooo pretty) and by around 2 in the morning we were debating whether or not it was bed time. The room opposite ours was having a party, and since I’m both a light sleeper, and pathologically curious we decided to check it out. We were expecting a loud raucous crazy party based on what the organizers had been hoping for, and were pleasantly surprised to find a low key gathering of people chatting and snuggling and listening to music. Even better was finding Angela cuddled on the couch with a gentleman I'd run into one or two times before, and seeing her face light up when we walked into the room.

I found a seat on the couch and soon Angela was stretched out between me and the other fellow, both of us massaging part of her body with Emma cuddled up near me, adding her own hands into the mix, while we watched Rachel get flogged by a new friend. It should be noted, that Rachel made a lot of new friends this weekend, I was quite proud of her sluttiness. Most notable was Ari. Ari had come up to Rachel and I earlier in the day and very politely told me how hot he thought she was, and asked my permission to flirt with her. Never one to deny a polite gentleman who also respects the D/s between Rachel and I, I smiled and told her to kiss him and he promptly had her up against the wall and squirming. They ran into each other a few more times throughout the day, and I enjoyed how fondly she seemed to react to him and was curious to see where that would go.

A few other connected people joined in the massage or flirty cuddles, and Angela seemed in heaven, purring contently as we all chatted and flirted and massaged her, but the energy was definitely sensual, not sexual. As the night went on I knew Emma was getting ready to pass out and we were having a great time, but it didn't seem like things were going in a sexual direction that would make inviting her back to our room appropriate, so I figured we’d just slip out and get some sleep. So we extricated ourselves from the pile of bodies and started saying our goodbyes. This of course meant good-bye kisses. And gropes. And all of a sudden, myself, Rachel, Angela, and Ari, who had recently dropped into the party himself, found ourselves standing together with hands and lips and teeth wandering freely. The energy had shifted drastically, and being one to seize the moment I suggested that the four of us adjourn to our hotel room across the hall. Ari grinned wolfishly, Rachel nodded enthusiastically and Angela, after pondering for a moment said “yea, I think that sounds fun.” I checked in briefly with Emma, who is famous for her ability to sleep through ANYTHING and after her assuring me it was more then ok, with Emma sleeping on one of the queen size beds, the four of us fall onto the other.

As for what happened on the bed- that I'll leave to part II.

2008-01-11T13:17:00.000-05:00

My last few posts have leaned more to the smut side of the force- and with my upcoming weekend I hope to have more delicious adventures to report. But a recent experiences got me thinking about sexuality and how we learn and Christmas, and an interesting way of seeing it all. Wondering what a Child God can teach us about sex.

The Sunday after Christmas has long been one of my favorites, especially since I came to the church I’m now at. We spend most of the service singing hymns and just enjoying the music of the season. I’m all for high liturgy but sometimes there is nothing quite so good as just singing together- especially at Christmas time.

Most of what we sung were hymns; for about 20 minutes, people would just shout out their favorite hymn, our choir director would tell us where in the hymnal to find that particular song, and away we’d go. But for the last song of the service we sang s song that is one of my favorite hymns though it’s fairly unknown, called “When God is a Child.”

For me, this song captures what I think is the real miracle at the heart of the story of Christmas. I don’t mean the Christmas season- for me, that is about the power of giving, the magic and wonder of light returning into the world at a time of darkness, the joy that comes from loved ones coming together to celebrate, and the power of hope for good things to come. All wonderful things and I love this time of year for them. But here, I’m talking about something different. I’m talking about the story itself, the Christmas narrative- namely the idea that God is born among us as a child! As a baby.

*Editorial note- I’ve touched on issues of theology and God in these pages before, but not done much in depth theological or scriptural exploring. So let me make clear- the biblical stories have incredible power for me as metaphor and myth. Which is to say, its not that they are “just stories” or somehow denigrated by being referred to as such, but that for me, the truth of the stories has very little to do with whatever relation they do or do not have to historical events.*

What for me is truly radical about the Christmas story is that God comes among us- as a child. The first time I heard this hymn it was part of a service focusing on this idea. The sermon was about how so many of the problems in this world are the result of ideas we learn as we grow. The preacher asked us to consider what it would mean to believe in a God who had not learned that some kinds of people were different then others because of lines on a map, or that love should only exist between certain kinds of people. He talked about how we use terms like “childlike innocence” and “naivety” to suggest they are states one should grow out of as quickly as possible, and wonders what it means spiritually, theologically that every year at this time, God returns to that state of mind. I still remember clearly how moved I was by that sermon and the tears that ran down my face as we sung the song’s refrain – “When God is a child, there’s joy in our song. The last shall be first, and the weak shall be strong. And none shall be afraid”

And none shall be afraid.

That was the song we sang again a few Sundays ago, and once again it moved me. As I heard it, I found myself thinking about a few conversations I’d had with friends and fellow bloggers about sexual neurosis and hang ups, and all the myriad forms they come in. Hearing the song I started wondering how many of those things are learned- how many of our fears and hang ups and neurosis and all the things that hold us back sexually are things we learn as we grow up.

We have to learn to want people to love us, and to fear rejection, to fear not being accepted, to fear that they love us or want us for the wrong reasons.
We have to learn that only certain kinds of love are valid, and only in certain formats.
We have to learn that sex is only ok when attached to particular emotions, that pleasure in and of its own right is dirty or bad, that simply “feeling good” isn’t enough to make something ok.
We have to learn to fear vulnerability and openness, to learn to put up walls around our emotions and our feelings and not let people see how vulnerable we can be when we’re weak, or when we’re n love, or when we cum.

I could go on- and all of the above are huge generalities, with lots of caveats, and many people have overcome many or all of these, or just never felt them at all. But my point here isn’t to come up with an exhaustive list of sexual neurosis- but just to wonder at the power of the idea of a divine that hasn’t learned those things, and never will- and offers us always the chance to return to that.

I’m not the first to suggest that some of the moments when we most connect with the divine are sexual. Nor is it by any means an exclusively Christian insight- like most divine truths, most religions and spiritual traditions come to that idea in their own way. And this may be an insight other traditions have in their own way as well. I’m certainly not suggesting- hey everyone, be Christian and all your sexual hang ups disappear. Far from it. But it’s interesting to me to think about; to ask, how does this spiritual idea connect to sexuality. Whatever a person’s religious path- what can we learn and take from a story of a child God.

What I kept being struck by as I head that song, was how many of those sexual issues are based on fear of some kind or another. Not the hot kind of fear, that comes from roller coasters and scary movies, or a lover’s hand around our throat. But the fear of rejection, fear of vulnerability, fear of being a slut, fear of being a prude, fear of being judged, fear of our own desires, fear of others of some particular race or gender or other kind of grouping.

And I just was thinking about those fears as we sung together- “When God is a child… none, shall be afraid.”

Sex with Sex Bloggers

2008-01-02T16:28:00.000-05:00

When I first started exploring this sex blogger world, one thing I noted with amusement was the high level of cross posting of dirty adventures. Every third post seemed to be someone saying, “mmm, I had a hot evening with person X… and since they’re a sex blogger to, go read about it at here (insert link). When I first started this blog, most of my partners

Hold that thought.

Not long after the adventures documented here, Sascha commented to me that there is a damnable lack of formality in our world. So I responded with a formal invitation to an afternoon of debauchery, which was quite well received.

So for the last few days I was pondering how best to write up that adventure for your entertainment, dear reader, when I discovered that Sascha had written about it in her own blog., and done so quite well.

Enjoy!

Sex and Kink-- Tracing the Lines

2007-12-30T10:54:00.000-05:00

This morning, a thought occurred to me, well, really a long chain of thoughts, which seemed perfect to ponder further in these pages. But of course it happened as I’m wrapped up in family and post-Christmas/end of the year events and probably won’t have a spare hour for serious writing and contemplation.

So this post is a bit of a place holder. A short version to remind me to return to it, as well as see what others might be pondering.

The topic of the hour: the interconnection(s) between sex, sexuality and kink.

It’s a topic I’ve been all over the map in regard to, mostly because in the last few years I have been literally all over the map.

I learned to be kinky in New York City, a place where most of the public and semi-public scene (or at least what I had discovered of it to the time) is very much non-sex friendly, if not outright banning of sex. As a result, I learned to separate the spanking and floggings and pretty ropes from making out and fucking and doing fun teasing things to people with my fingers and tongue. I enjoyed both, to be sure, and they could have very similar energy, but were quite distinct in my head as two separate things.

Then I went to San Francisco- where most BDSM spaces allow, if not encourage sex, and most sex clubs have at least one room or area dedicated to kink. Here, I really learned to integrate the two, to find all the delightful ways they can intermingle, in which making a pretty girl beg to be allowed to cum after a flogging in front of a room of excited onlookers can be just as erotic as making someone squirm with my claws while all my clothes stay on and she never touches me, or tying her to a bed and fucking her silly while her mouth is between my fiancé’s thighs. It wasn’t that now that I discovered that the two could go together, they always had. It was more finding that the two could compliment each other so well in so many different ways, and finding all the ways they could intermingle when all things were allowed.

Because while now the space allowed all things (or at least most- most clubs still have their own limits of one form or another) the people in question of course still had their own. But this is what I loved- the focus was entirely on what the playmate(s) and I desired, not what was allowed. Over the years I was there, I got to experience a wide variety of that, between long time playmates and the pretty person who I’d just have a connection with on a particular night. Sometimes we’d fuck at the end of the scene with all the passion and the hotness of the last few hours coming out. Sometimes the sexuality would be focused entirely one way or the other- a playmate who loved for me to use fingers and teeth along with floggers and paddles when I scened with her, but who never touched me, or the gentleman I played with a few times who always wanted the scene to end with my making him suck me off to thank me for the flogging, but with the exception of that one act, the scene was never sexual. And sometimes it would be just as much about the BDSM and not the sex as it had been in NYC, and we’d both love it and be happy knowing there would be nothing more- but it was because that was the headspace that one or the other or both of us was in, not because we were clawing at each other, desperately wishing our environment would allow us to go further.

And then, about two years ago, I returned to New York City. I’ve mostly found new places to play, and there is more fluidity, but still the separation. And it’s interesting to be exploring that again, and that’s worth some serious navel gazing in blog format.

More recently- I was exchanging emails with a lovely lass I met and played with recently and she was commenting about knife play. It got me thinking and realizing that, for me, knife play is deeply, deeply sexual.

Not that it has to involve genital play, or that after I do a knife scene I’ll be so wound up, I just need to cum. No-- that argument stopped making sense when I turned 17. It’s more- right now, knife play is something I have trouble conceiving of doing with someone who isn’t in some way a lover of mine.

Interesting.

Definitely worth pondering further. As I experiment more with the intersections of bdsm and sexuality, where do other acts fall on one side or the other of that line? How much is this linked to the fact that the only people I’ve done knife play with to this point have been lovers? Is this something I just notice in myself and roll with, or does it make it all the more worthwhile to seek out opportunities to play with knives with people who aren’t lovers of mine and won’t be, jut to further explore that?

And where do other acts fall? Are knives the weird exception?

Ahh, journey’s into the sexual psyche, what fun. All to be explored soon, I hope. But now- its time to head to church. Today we sing Christmas Carols- no big sermon, no big ritual, just lots and lots of singing. Hallelujah.

Thigh Highs and Propositions- Part II

2007-12-19T15:19:00.000-05:00

This post continues a story I began in my first post. To start at the beginning, may I suggest you read Part I.

To continue:

There was a lot to see and do and so Sascha wandered off one way and Emma and I another. For the next hour or so we chatted with other friends, watched a few burlesque performances (including an elf with a hidden candy cane that she pulled out of herself with a flourish at the pivotal moment of the act) and generally had a good time. A few times we found ourselves again in a circle that Sascha was a part of, or just wandering past her, or her by us and each time our hands found each other again- a caress of her neck, a pull of her hair, her own hand on my back. Promises of thing to come.

Eventually she slid up next to me and informed me with a smile that she was ready to be flogged and molested, thank you very much. Emma scurried off to get our bag of tricks and I led Sascha over to one of the beds and started to play with her. The energy at this particular party is very sensual and I played to that- kissing and teasing her neck, playing with her breasts, kissing her and pulling her hair. I started using the claws on her back, tracing along the line of her spine all the way down to her ass, using the claws and then following closely with my lips and teeth. The music was loud but I could still hear the noises she made, purrs and whimpers.

Emma returned with my floggers and joined us on the bed, though mostly just lightly stroking Sascha and watching; sometimes Emma wants to jump in but for now she was just enjoying holding back. My hands ran their way down Sascha’s back and cupped her ass and started to spank her, one side then the other. The great thing about a party with good music is its so easy to find a rhythm and from the way her body pushed back against my hand I could tell she was enjoying.

I slid her skirt off (it had till now just been bunched up around her waist- effective but not as aesthetic) and took a long moment to admire her ass. She has the kind of body that drives me crazy, and the underwear she was wearing and the thigh highs perfectly framed her ass. The pinkness from my hand didn’t hurt either.

I started to flog her, one flogger in each hand. The space was a little too crowded, and many of the others nearby a little too new to kink to really take it that far- as Sascha later commented, I could have gone a lot harder without complaint from her- but I still enjoyed seeing her hips move in response to the leather, seeing her back arch and her whole body quiver for a moment after I hit her just right.

Since I couldn’t go too intense with the flogging I found other ways to entertain. I’d stop flogging and just let the leather play over the skin of her back and ass while my hands trailed up her thighs. Each time, I’d go back to flogging her for a while then return to the caress. My hands brushed against her thong a few times, bolder and bolder, feeling how wet she was, and how she responded. We hadn’t discussed how sexual the scene would become but we’d discussed safe words and she’d made very clear her willingness and ability to say stop when she needed to. I gently pushed aside the material and let my finger just brush against the lips of her cunt. I asked, “may I, pretty girl” and when she breathily said, “yes, please” I plunged my finger inside her.

I fucked her with my finger, one then two, but then pulled back, and went back to flogging again. Sometimes I like to be totally focused- either just very sexual or very focused on the bdsm, but sometimes its fun to play with the two together, to mix back and forth.

I slid her panties down her body and Emma joined us on the bed. We each kissed her, playing with her breasts, stroking her thighs and playing with her clit. Emma kissed her way down Sascha's body and started to go down on her as I took Sascha’s head in my lap, kissing her and playing with her tits. My hand moved to her throat, and she responded with a moan. I wrapped my fingers around her- not choking, but just applying enough pressure that she could feel it as Emma tongue fucked her.

My hand’s snaked down Sascha’s body as Emma moved back, and Emma and I started to kiss. I could taste Sascha on her as our fingers met against her- Emma’s fingers pumping inside her, my own finger on her clit. Ahhh, teamwork. I’ve talked about it before- but at moments like that I remember what wonderful partners Emma and I are.

For a while our bodies were entwined around each other in various iterations- I got to taste Sascha myself and later enjoy her own mouth on me, with my hands in her hair guiding her as I throbbed in her mouth. Eventually Emma whispered in her ear and asked her if she was ready to be fucked and when she nodded enthusiastically, I reached for a condom.

I took her from behind- on her hands and knees with her face down into the bed, that incredible ass with her thigh highs still on- so wonderfully hot. A few teasing thrusts, but after all the build up of the last hour of playing, it wasn’t long till I was holding her tight by the hips and fucking her as hard as I could. My hands played over her body as I took her- sometimes on her hips, sometimes reaching up to wrap around her throat or pull her hair to arch her back. I spanked her ass as I fucked her, and when my knee brushed the flogger still on the bed from before, I picked it up—first trailing the leather over her back then bringing it down on her back and ass in time with my thrusts.

This went on for a good while but I needed something more- one more kick of intensity. I slipped the belt out of my kilt (it was on the bed and in reach) and wrapped it around her- fastening it around her waist. The leather held her as I took it in my hands, using it like a harness to pull her back onto me, each thrust harder, taking pleasure from her body until I came.

I slipped off the condom and disposed of it and pulled her into my arms as we both caught our breath. Sometimes that moment is a bit awkward, and I’m always happy to slip away if need be, but she was a cuddle slut, as well as all the other things she’d displayed that night.

Emma joined us- she’d been watching eagerly as we fucked, and we all snuggled with hands wandering while we caught our breath and settled back to earth.

Thigh highs and propositions- no man is safe.

2007-12-18T02:47:00.000-05:00

Wanna make one hell of an impression on a guy? Proposition him.

Though of course, having a sexy girl delivered to you by a friend isn’t bad either.

A few weeks ago Emma and I were at a play party that happens once a month or so, that we’re quite fond of. The organizers do a lot to make it a space where sex certainly happens but is not the focus, the play space is all in the back, and there is lots of dancing, and burlesque performances and space to chill and chat or flirt and just a generally comfortable, no pressure environment.

So we’d shown up and dropped off our coats and were chatting with a few friends when one of the hosts comes bouncing over, dragging a lovely woman with her. The lady was tall and curvy with red and white stripped stockings that stopped just below her skirt, showing off that flash of thigh I can never resist. The term “mischievous glint in her eyes” is one of the most over used clichés I know, but in case it fit. She had that glint, so when our host brought her over to as someone new to the parties, relatively new to the New York scene and introduced her to us, I felt like Christmas had come a few weeks early.

Her name was Sascha, and we instantly hit it off. There were a few others in our small group and part of me felt bad monopolizing her time as she’d been introduced to all of us, but the way she purred when I ran my claws along her arm quickly put my guilt to rest. *my claws are these wonderful things that fit on the end of each finger and allow for wonderful scratching and sharp massage *. We were chatting and getting along marvelously, discovering she had quite a brain to match the body and that we had lots of common overlaps in our friends and interests. We found at least 5 other connections through which we’d almost ran into each other and were enjoying sharing ideas about different poly and kink communities we’d experienced as my hand was tracing over her wrists and arms and up to her neck, getting closer and closer as my hands found more and more ways to interrupt her conversation for a moment with a purr.

This part is welcoming of the occasional kink scene but is mostly sex focused. But I was curious, so while we were discussing the plusses and minuses of different kinds of play parties I lamented what while I loved this one, I wasn’t sure if I’d get a chance to use the flogger I’d brought on someone. It was a trial balloon, and I figured it might elicit some interest or curiosity, of the, “oooo, floggers, I love those” sort of thing. A slight opening.

So when she didn’t miss a beat before suggesting that she’d be happy to volunteer her body for a flogging… as I said I’m not often propositioned. But oh my, did I enjoy it.

And since the rest of the evening involved a good deal of teasing, it seems only fair to bring that tease into the story. So I’ll hope I’ve stroked your curiosity, and I will continue this vignette in my next post within the next day or two…

Naughty or Nice? Fa La La

2007-12-13T11:34:00.000-05:00

Christmas time brings out the kid in me, its easily my favorite time of year. I'm the kind of cheese ball who tears up at the Peanuts Christmas special. Last weekend we decked the hall, and now the whole place smells like pine, and there are Christmas lights twinkling from our tree and the lights strung around the room. We're in mid wrap mode for our various gifts for friends and family, so the house looks like a wrapping paper factory exploded. Finding the perfect gift for each of my loved ones is pretty much what makes the season for me- not surprising since so much of what I enjoy in bed is discovering exactly what my lover's fantasy is and bringing it to life. Very different to be sure, but a similar motivation to be sure.

Though the holiday season isn't without its more adult pleasures. Last weekend I put on my Santa suit and visited a play party, to see who'd been naughty or nice and pass out gifts. The naughty got spankings and the nice got porn- we weren't there long but spread some holiday cheer as best we could.

Today I was doing the last of my shopping and decided to see what kind of fun toys I could find for Rachel and Emma. The good folks at Eden Fantasies noticed my blog and want to give me a shout out *huzzah for attention * so I checked out their selection and found a few things that will go just perfectly in the stockings of the two ladies. (I debated a few puns about their own penchant for stocking wearing, but its too early in the day for such bad humor.)

If you're still looking for a toy or two for the more naughty on your list, check out Eden- http://www.edenfantasys.com/. I've not done much of my toy shopping online before, but they have quite a good selection. More importantly the site gives you enough info that you actually have a sense of what you are buying- other places have made me think, ok, this place is cool but I need to check it out in person to know what I'm getting.

Just under two weeks till Christmas. 3 days till a friend's holiday party complete with kinky gift exchange.

Fa la la.

Poly Community(ies)

2007-12-11T02:31:00.000-05:00

Tonight was poly happy hour, a gathering of poly types at a bar with good music that isn’t too loud, drinks that are decently priced (for New York at least) and lots of sofas and couches and other comfy chairs. The result is a wonderful place to just hang out and connect with people.

I’m a big fan of community, especially in terms of poly, kink, queer, ethical sluts, any of the sub groups or sexual minorities or whatever you want to call them that I travel in. It’s far too easy to just see people at meetings or parties where it’s a little forced or there is a specific agenda. To me, nights like tonight aren’t about the topic or about hearing what we all think about some poly question- its about just getting to know people, to connect with friends and meet new people like I would any other night, but knowing that when I mention going to a movie with my girlfriend because my lover told me great things about it, no one is going to look at me funny.

Tonight was just the perfect night for that. Ran into a few friends I hadn’t seen in a while. Chatted with someone I had till now only seen on email lists, but had wanted to connect with because of her writings about poly activism and linkages between spirituality and sexuality. Emma and I met a girl that made us have that moment where our eyes met and we both knew we agreed on how cute she was, and we spent an hour or so flirting shamelessly with her, massaging her, playing with her hair together. I do so love teamwork.

But what most struck me about tonight was a conversation I had with a guy who was new to poly and had come to meet others and get the lay of the land, as it were. We talked for a while, and he started asking about the poly community- what poly people were like, what brought people into it. What was interesting was that talking to him I realized something I’d always probably been aware of but never quite put into words the way I did with him- namely the fact that there isn’t really any one poly community. There are many- or more accurately there are a number of communities that each have a poly subset within them, each with their own flavor. . The geek in me loves seeing how that plays out- how poly takes on different shapes and attitudes from one community to the next.

There are poly burners and hipsters, for whom poly seems to be about Do-It-Yourself attitudes and challenging conventions as applied to relationships, and where socializing is important, but heaven forbid any gathering be without a DJ. There are the poly geeks and gamers and sci-fi types, for whom poly comes in part from Heinlien and other sci-fi authors, and in part from the kind of geeky mindset that enjoys taking things apart and poking at them so why not do so with relationships. This is the world I come from, where flirting by livejournal or IM is the norm and we’re poly not because we’re so smooth but because we all are just a little bit, pleasantly socially awkward- not enough to scare the cat or be unsuitable to bring home to the parents, but comfortable with the kind of direct communication and openness that poly requires because we gave up on the game playing and mind reading that more traditional courting rituals require.

Kicking it around we probably mentioned a half dozen other sub cultures or communities in which there is a poly sub current and some of our observations on how poly looks in each. Which I to say nothing of where poly ends or open relationships or swinging or ethical sluttery begins, and how that’s also different from one poly community to the next. I’d go through all of em, but it’ 2 am and I need sleep.

Plus, these are just my own observations, and sweeping generalities at that.

What about you, fair reader? What does poly, or ethical sluttery or whatever you call it, look like in your world?

Birthday Girl

2007-12-09T20:54:00.000-05:00

I so love the way Rachel thrashes about on the bed when she’s being played with. I love seeing it when it’s the result of my own efforts, but it’s also hot to just be there while another is making her squirm, to hold her and see her face as her hips buck and she just flat out loses it. So seeing 5 different people, one by one make her cry out while I held her pinned to the bed- not a bad way to spend the evening.

The evening was to celebrate Rachel’s birthday, and a few friends were over. Most of our clothes were off and we were cuddling in various combinations with hands wandering everywhere, and it seemed time to take things up a level. So I issued a little challenge- we’d lay Rachel out on the bed, blindfolded, and let each person take their turn using a glass toy I own on her, and see if she could guess who was who. I suggested it and she got that Cheshire Cat grin I love so much, and nodded eagerly.

There were five others, not counting Rachel, and we each took our turn. One girl teased her, just running the toy against her Rachel’s clit, brushing it against her opening, and giggling as Rachel shifted and tried to push her hips to get it inside her. Then the girl silently handed it off to the next person who’d start fucking Rachel hard with the toy. She gasped and tried to adjust, surprised and loving it right till the guy stopped and handed it off again.

Each person was a little different. Each person brought about a new reaction in her—and I loved seeing each one. And the whimpering and moaning and then pouting when each one stopped and there was a pause between the next, was pretty yummy too.

As to her reaction- when the last person went and we asked, so which person was which she replied “wait, if I guess, do we have to stop?”

The rest of the night was even better.

Beach Balcony Bondage

2007-11-12T16:04:00.000-05:00

Whenever I hear someone talk about a city having a natural beat, or rhythm, I’ve generally dismissed it as an over used cliché. But walking the streets of Tel Aviv at night, it’s the only way to describe. The city is alive and pulsing with energy – you can hear it in the music coming out of the open windows from the bars and clubs that line the streets, you can hear it from the waves of the ocean in a city where you are never far from the beach, you can hear it in the laughter of the young people as they spill out of one club and head on to the next. That pulse is infectious – I could see Emma’s hips starting to sway to its beat as we walked through the streets, I could feel it intoxicating both of us.

Maybe that’s why I pushed her against the building as we walked down a side street, kissing her hard. Maybe that’s why where normally the kiss would break after a few moments, this night I kept here there longer, pressing my body against hers, hands stroking her side and then pulling her tighter against me. Finally we broke and laughed, wondering if a public indecency charge is grounds for revulsion of our tourist visa and an early flight home, but we both knew the hunger was there. A few more times as we wound our way through city streets I had her again against the wall- twice facing me and kissing her, but once with me behind her, my teeth on the back of her neck my hands grasping her hips and my own body moving against hers. Emma is beautiful in all manners of appearance, but her ass could inspire epic poetry and cupping it in my hands, grinding against her as I pushed her into the wall and feeling her lush figure against me- gods, I’ve never wanted her more.

We made it back to the hotel and pounced each other again. She moved to the bed, but our hotel had a feature that seemed worth taking advantage of- a private balcony overlooking the beach. I think anyone would find sex on a balcony overlooking a beach with the waves and the wind not to mention all the late night revelers below you quite erotic, but to anyone who is as big a Buffy fan as we are, you’ll understand the particular appeal of the balcony. We made out for a while out there, and eventually I turned her to look out over the beach, told her to close her eyes and listen to the waves and the voices below as my hands and lips and teeth ran over her body.

Maybe it was the energy of the night, or just that it had been a while since we got a little dirty, but eventually I had an idea, and told Emma to wait a moment. I ducked back into the room and returned with the sash from the hotel’s bathrobe- a few quick wraps around each wrist and through the balcony railing and once around her waist and she was held securely in place. I kept her out there for another 15 minutes or so- letting her pause just long enough to start thinking about someone maybe seeing and letting her fear or embarrassment kick in before finding another way to make her so focused on her own lust that nothing else mattered.

All to the rhythm of Tel Aviv.

I like this town.

Threesomes continued- power and sharing ones toys.

2007-09-13T12:48:00.000-04:00

A week late, but the interlude, and related thoughts, continued.

Conversation paused and Luther and Marie started to kiss. It was beautiful- one of those moments where you could tell on some level they enjoyed knowing they were being watched, but mostly they were lost in the moment, kissing and touching each other and forgetting the rest of the world existed.

We were all naked; after the hot tub, getting dressed again had seemed silly and Emma and Rachel and I were laying entangled, hands idly exploring each other- watching. At other times, the three of us might have gotten lost in our own playing, but right now this was so beautiful, watching the passion and love and connection between Marie and Luther. Luther leaned back, and Marie’s kisses trailed down his chest and I could feel Rachel’s excitement as she learned forward to take it all in. Emma and I aren’t jaded about watching our friends fuck, and I hope never will be, but this wasn’t new for us the way it was for Rachel. She’s been with us to a few parties, but is still finding her way in that world, and Marie and Luther are people she’s made a strong connection with, people she’s grown close to and quite attracted to.

Feeling her eagerness and excitement as we watched, seeing his eyes close and his head fall back onto the bed as Marie took his cock into her mouth- I was struck by the sacredness in that room. We’d lit no candles or incense, we were in a holiday inn, not forest or ritual space, and we’d sung no songs or chants or other incantations- but watching them, feeling Emma curled up against me and stroking my back, hearing Rachel’s breathing getting quicker and heavier as she watched, entranced, that night was as sacred as Easter morning.

But we weren’t there just to watch. Nothing was set in stone, but there something of a plan for the evening- a possible fantasy to live out, should we all feel comfortable going there.

Marie paused her sucking for a moment, pushing her hair back before resuming her attentions to Luther’s cock. As she did, she looked to Rachel with a look of question and invitation, and I patted Rachel’s ass and whispered in her ear, “she needs help- join her.”

Rachel looked up at me questioningly, wanting to be sure she heard me right, wanting to experience that moment of being commanded one more time, and I nodded and said again, in that gentle but firm voice when I’m being clear there will be no debate- “join her.” Her face lit up, and I could see her fighting so hard to not let out one of her “EEEEEEEEEEEE”’s and she moved down the bed. Marie saw her and made room, holding Luther’s cock at the base, slowly stroking him and kissing his balls as Rachel’s mouth took him in.

Did I command her to join them or did I give her permission? The only answer is yes. That sort of chicken and the egg, who has the real power question- when D/s is at its best, I tend to believe the answer is both/and. I was pushing Rachel, pushing her into something that she was nervous about, and also so very eager. Gently guiding her beyond her own fears and into her fantasies.

This moment, and what followed, was something she and I had spoken of many times. She loved the idea of letting her inner slut out to play, of teasing and taunting and hunting cute boys and having her way with them, of showing off what a good cocksucker she was for her master and pleasing his friends, of having two men, or more, at once, of being free and wild and letting herself enjoy whatever hedonistic pleasures came her way.

But she also had reason to be careful, to be cautious. Some experiences with boys who didn’t understand “no” and who didn’t understand someone might want to go so far and yet no further, combined with a fear of sex addiction, of just using sex the way someone else might use booze or a drug to run away from the rest of life- all of it meant she was cautious about letting herself go too far into sexual exploration. When she and I fell into bed some months ago I was in some ways her first; certainly her first that had been truly consensual in every sense of the word.

And so, as our relationship took on a strong D/s aspect, we worked out an intricate dance. She would get to flirt, and tease, and play, and thrive in her sexuality- but need my permission to cross certain lines. And it became a delicious game we could have fun with. If the gentleman who was trying to seduce her online wanted to see pictures, he had to IM me and ask. If a new playmate wanted to enjoy her, he (and in one wonderful incident, she) needed to discuss it with me. I’ll never forget the moment I got a phone call from a stuttering nervous college boy saying “hey, um… so I met this girl named Rachel, and she wants to make out with me, but she told me I need your permission so, ummm… can I make out with her?” And through some cheap cell-phone, I could still hear that “EEEEEEEE” in the background that told me all was well and as it should be. And I talked with him for a bit, told him the rules, and let them enjoy.

There with other moments like that, other adventures with boys she knew, and got to make out with like a horny teenager, re-experiencing what she never got to have in her own adolescence because like too many people I know she was a 40 year old when she was 14.

Those moments were more good dirty fun then anything else- playing with D/s energy, letting her be the vixen who has what the boys want, but makes them jump through

hoops before they can play with her tits. Neither of us fooled ourselves into thinking that my permission would magically keep her safe. It was her own judgment that let her decide which boys to be alone with. But it let her be safe emotionally and let her enjoy her inner slut, knowing there were rules. She’d pout when I spelled out what was off limits on a particular night but when we’d talk later she’d thank me, and agree she hadn’t been ready to go further. And of course, throughout it all was the hotness of her body being my toy- a toy that I got to choose who enjoyed and how. When we’d talk afterward, she’d tell me how wet she got reading the IM discussion her suitor and I were having, knowing later that when he fingered her it would be at my permission. The two of us having negotiated the use and terms of her body turned her on to no end, knowing that when she straddled a boy in his car and rubbed her body against him she had to hold back because she needed her master’s permission to do more. And of course, it added a whole other dimension to our own play. I’d bend her over my bed and make her tell me about what a slut she’d been and my hand would spank her ass harder and harder. I’d wrap my hand in her hair and pull as I fucked her, whispering dirty terrible wonderful things in her ear about what she’d done, what I’d made her do, about how others had enjoyed my toy, and feeling her body react.

As for going further- what we had agreed was that going down on another guy, or fucking another guy were things she wanted to do, wanted to explore, but needed to feel safe with the particular guy, a not just safe, but connected. That the idea of being given to someone of my choosing was deliciously hot, and in time she wanted me to give her to someone she had no connection with except through me but that she wanted and needed her first time with another guy since she and I started seeing each other to be with someone who on some levels we both chose- someone I picked, but picked in large part because it was someone she felt right with.

With Luther- it felt right. I knew she wanted him. They’d met before and played lightly and had a wonderful connection. I trusted him and knew how respectful of the situation between her and I he was. Someone I knew would be ok stopping if something wasn’t right. And I knew it wasn’t so much of a given that my giving her wouldn’t just be a formality. That it would be at my command that she’d give her body to him- but we’d both know I’d commanded it with him because I knew she felt safe.

D/s for me, is so many things. It can be all about the two people, about spanking and hair pulling and name calling, and the way a pretty girl’s eyes go wide as my hand slaps her face or the way her pussy tightens around me as my hand wraps around her throat. It can be an elegant evening at some fancy restaurant, making pleasant conversation over dinner and looking for all the world like Joe and Jane Q. Normal, but both of us knowing that every part of her outfit was chosen by me, from her dress to her garters to her panties or possible lack there of. I adore D/s that has nothing to do with anyone else, just myself and my submissive.

But there is a particular charge when others are involved, and understand that dynamic. Watching Luther’s face as she took his cock all the way to the back of her throat, smiling at him as I entered her from behind and he could feel her moans against him, cradling her head in my lap as he entered her, and knowing that it was at my leave that he enjoyed her- so delicious. So hot. Seeing her literally radiate joy, feeling the eagerness with which she attacked my cock as he took her, watching her and Marie kiss and Marie’s joy at seeing someone experience for the first time something she’s herself come to know and love, hearing Rachel squee with joy as we cuddled afterward and having her kiss me and thank me for making that fantasy happen- words fail me.

Threesomes Part II– a longer look at the interlude.

2007-09-05T00:49:00.000-04:00

It hadn’t begun with rope.

I’m tempted to follow that with “it never does” but for some of my more recent encounters, that wouldn’t be the case. But this time, the rope was only a late addition to the party.

I speak here of the interlude told briefly in my last posting- a story worth telling in full.

I had traveled to a local Renaissance Faire- Ren Faire as it’s known by its more geeky participants, among whom I’m proud to be counted. A Ren Faire, for those who haven’t been, is a wonderful opportunity for public bawdiness, as well as all sorts of other fun, both adult and otherwise. Rachel and Emma had gotten thoroughly dressed up for the occasion, each wearing their respective corsets, looking a fair mix of historical period and bawdy sex kitten. It was the sort of look you might see in a Cinemax after hours period movie with an art director determined to be as accurate as possible without giving in to anything so silly as his actresses’ modesty.

We enjoyed a lovely day of bouncing around, spending too much money, laughing at bad puns, ooing and ahhhing at the jousting and mock combat, flirting shamelessly, and otherwise having a wonderful time. Ren Faire’s are such sexually charged affairs- it’s hard to ignore the sexual atmosphere with a vendor asking everyone loudly “do you prefer your pickles to be endowed with length or girth”. It was great fun seeing people’s reactions, especially when I’d kiss one then the other, or the two of them would start kissing.

At this point, a bit more backstory is probably in order. As mentioned before, Rachel and Emma are both lovers of mine- Emma is my fiancée and Rachel and I have been dating for almost a year. And while Rachel and Emma are close friends and enjoy playing lightly together when I’m involved, they aren’t lovers. The connection between them has just never clicked that way and while it is important to me that they get along as they are both important parts of my life, I’ve been careful not to push any sexual interaction between the two beyond what the two of them found they were comfortable with.

I think that’s in part why I get such a kick out of people’s reactions to seeing the two of them on my arms at the Faire, or watching men (and not a few women) go ga-ga at the site of them kissing. It’s like it kicks in so many clichéd fantasies of the sort I was amused at in my last post. In so many other settings, playing with that energy would feel like bragging or showing off but at Ren Faire, it’s just all in good fun.

The further twist on it all is that both ladies are submissive, and collared to me. So while I don’t push either beyond what I know is their comfort with each other, they both gladly obey when commanded. Wondering around and from time to time simply saying “kiss” and having them pounce each other, or pointing to a pretty girl whose been flirting with us and saying “entertain her” and seeing each girl go to a side of her neck and start to nibble- so hot. So much fun. BDSM is a dynamic I adore playing with, and at times take quite seriously- but that day at the Faire it all felt like wonderful parody. Giggling, silly hotness.

By the end of the day we were exhausted, and went back to our hotel. We had gotten a room so that we could stay for both Saturday and Sunday, and so Luther and Marie could join us for the evening. We were exhausted and sore from so much walking around, and decided to begin the evening in the hotel hot tub. Luther and Marie joined us and the five of us cuddled in various combinations and enjoyed the hot water and talked about the faire and our various polyamorous networks. A few other hotel guests were in and out of the tub during our time there, and I loved watching them try and figure out who was with who as various people snuggled and kissed each other and spoke of their other lovers. At one point Rachel decided to jump in the pool and as she was wearing just a bra and thong (none of us had thought to bring bathing suits) the eyes of one of the men in the tub with us lingered over her rear as she got out of the hot tub and ran to the pool, much to this displeasure of his wife. I’m amazed the poor man didn’t hurt his neck; he tried so hard NOT to stare when Rachel returned.

In fairness, teasing un-suspecting onlookers is not the most ethical of behavior, nor fully consensual, both of which are fairly important to me. But at the faire, it was clearly encouraged and joyfully participated in by our partners in flirtation, and that night in the hotel we were certainly not trying to make a scene. Now, if our behavior challenges some assumptions of monogamy well- a day at the faire should forgive me a night’s mischief, no?

But now we come to the meat of our story- as the five of us journeyed back upstairs to the hotel room, bringing with us a bag of toys and a hefty collection of rope.

And while I don’t mean to tease- its there I must pause this story. I had hoped to finish this tonight, but its getting late, and finishing this will take some time. More to the point, Emma and I have just finished watching Cruel Intentions, a wonderfully trashy movie, pure popcorn, but also intensely erotic. I’ll hopefully finish this post tomorrow, but for now… watching that movie with Emma and NOT thoroughly ravishing her is simply not an option.

Till tomorrow.

Two into One: Threesomes, Part I

2007-08-29T15:38:00.000-04:00

It occurred to me recently that the best blowjobs I’ve ever received have almost all come while the lady in question was being fucked at the same time by someone else

*Threesomes have been on my mind a good deal recently. This is the first of what should be a few posts on the subject*

A recent experience, Emma, Rachel and I spending an evening with our friends Luther and Marie. Luther has tied her up well, and when I take hold of the harness he’s put Rachel in, her body moves easily. We position her on the edge of the bed, her legs obscenely spread open, her cunt exposed and ready to be taken and her head hanging over the bed. He thrusts into her and as her mouth falls open and she wordlessly cries out I enter her mouth with my own cock. Earlier she was on her hands and knees, fucking and sucking to her best ability, but now she is simply open, exposed as we take her. This is a moment that has been a long time in coming, a fantasy she’s long held and that we’ve waited for the right moment to make happen. And now that moment has happened, and I’m enjoying her mouth, enjoying the sight of her thrashing on the bed between us, and then afterward I pull her into my arms and she’s glowing and can’t stop grinning, and I look over to see Luther sharing that grin as he catches his breath and Emma and Marie are watching from the other bed, hands exploring each other and eyes full of lust and joy. I do so love group sex, and while so many wonderful combinations happened that night, it was that one, of sharing Rachel with Luther that most stuck in my mind, and got me thinking on the topic of that particular iteration of threesomes.

I still remember my first time experiencing that. It was something I’d fantasized about for years- I probably thought it was hot long before I had any idea why. It just struck me as so terribly wanton- dirty in the very best way. I came of age sexually just as MTV and pop-culture were deciding that bisexual girls were hot. So the FMF threesome, two girls and one lucky lucky guy became all the rage- and hey, if a girl was into that she wasn’t REALLY being sluttish cause girls don’t count and plus, she was only doing it cause of how hot her boyfriend would think it was and at least there was only one cock in the room so she was nice and pure and safe. Hogwash all of it, but that seemed to be the common idea, as Girls Gone Wild hit campus and every guy I knew wanted to be the afore mentioned “lucky lucky guy.”

The geek part of me could go on forever about that- about how seeing a girl playing with two guys at once turns that on its head so thoroughly, and why its hot on so many levels. But you can put all the thought and analysis aside, and there is still so much hotness- holding her hair as she tries desperately to keep sucking me while her body is rocking against her other lover. Seeing her eyes roll back in pleasure as he thrusts just right, feeling her hungrily take me into her mouth, all that energy and build up of him fucking her coming out as she sucks my cock- I love to geek about sex, but the pure reptile brain has more then enough in that moment to enjoy.

The connection between the guys is a part of it too. Simply having two guys that close to each other, both sexually active- though I past the point long ago where that seemed strange to me, I know there are still enough men out there who freak out if another penis is in the room that this feels like a subversive act. And its not always all about the girl- as often as not the other fellow and I will lean over and start to kiss as we both share the pretty slut between us or one of us will join her mouth on the other. Of late, that hasn’t been happening- I think my bisexuality card might be in danger of passing its expiration date, but as I’ve said before- that’s a post for another time. Today at least, the tangent monkey will be kept at bay.

No, what I find fascinating is that even when there is no sexual contact directly between the two gentlemen- when that particular dynamic is at its best, there’s still a bond. Male sexual behavior is too often so painfully competitive and territorial; I treasure those moments where I and another man are sharing pleasure, coordinating our efforts to send our mutual playmate over the moon, satisfying our own lusts but giving room for the other. Christ taught of finding God in the joy of others- when I feel the other man’s orgasm ripple through our shared lover, tightening her own grip on my cock, I know somewhere Jesus is smiling.

Much more to say on this, about how power dynamics and BDSM come into play, about twisting the dynamic even further on its head by substituting a strap on wielding lass for one of the gentlemen, about other threesome dynamics and the theological implications of thinking of the Trinity in sexual terms...

to be continued.

Analysis and Narrative

2007-08-21T10:37:00.001-04:00

Reading other sex-blogs, I’ve noted quite a bit of narrative- posts that tell the story of an evening or an encounter in wonderful detail, that keep you hanging on for the next line of dialog, the next movement. It was interesting to me, because so much of my writing, particularly in the livejournal blogging I’ve done for years has always been far more analytic in nature. Not analytic in the cold academic sense- but much more, let me talk about what happened and why it was sad/fun/erotic/passionate, etc.

I was thinking about it, because my last post started out as a way to explore that style. I had this wonderful night and I wondered if I could use a more narrative style to blog about it. As I was writing I realized I’d taken you, dear reader, less then a third of the way into the evening, and already had numerous tangential ponderings, as well as my own writers block about the blow by blow of how we went from the couch to the kitchen to the bed. All in all, I think I’m learning I’m not a narrativist. (Though I am, apparently, someone who makes up words, like narrativist.)

As I think about it, I realize its not just how I write- its how I remember. When I think back over some of my hottest memories, when I remember or fantasize about things I’ve done- I can never remember the moment by moment, this happened then that. Instead I just remember images out of sequence- a phrase that was spoken at a particular moment, a flirtatious moment when things turned more sexual or I became more aware of someone’s interest, a look on someone’s face, a particular moan or whimper, a position we found ourselves in at one point. And each one of those moments has so many other things tied into it- ideas and feelings and thoughts and experiences.

A subject I’m sure I’ll return to. But before then, there’ve been a few wonderfully hot adventures this summer- that I’m sure will find their way here before too long.

Coupling

2007-08-01T19:22:00.000-04:00

I leaned back, and let Miranda wrap herself around me, as together we watched her partner enter mine. My hand traced up her back and played with her hair, her hand stroked my thigh, and I could feel her naked flesh against mine as we watched. I’d seen this before, but for her it was new- their first time playing with another couple. I kissed Miranda’s ear and whispered “isn’t that beautiful” and Miranda giggled and nodded. For a long moment we held each like that- aroused from hours of foreplay amongst the four of us, now pausing, our hands and lips and teeth gliding over the other’s flesh, but our focus on watching the others. Robert started thrusting harder and harder into Emma, and her hand found my cock and her teeth trailed up my arm until I put a finger to her chin, turned her face toward me and kissed her.

It was one of the best nights at a sex party I’ve ever had. And of course, it started with Emma and me preparing ourselves for a very slow evening.

Emma and I have become frequent attendee of Jefferson’s monthly orgies. For those who don’t know, they are wonderful affairs- very low key and relaxed, with room for everyone from those who want to go slow and dip their toe in the waters of group and/or public sex, all the way to those who want to show up, strip down, and take on all comers. We’ve had some wonderful times at those parties, and were looking forward to this evening’s jaunt, but we had talked about being sure to keep our expectations low.

For whatever reason, over the last few months, in a number of different similar settings, we’d not had much luck connecting with others as a couple. Emma and I had each had our fun, and come back to our bed with hot stories to share with the other, but it had been a while since we’re really gotten to play together with someone new that we connected with as a couple, and our last few attempts to find it had never quite worked out. Add to that the fact that Jefferson’s apartment, like most in this city, isn’t particularly well air conditioned, and on a hot summer evening with almost two dozen people generating heat it gets quite warm. For a multitude of reasons I don’t deal well with heat, and so I was expecting this would be a quiet night for us.

Anytime you go to a sex party with expectations you’re bound to get yourself into trouble, but for this evening, Emma and I were on the same page about keeping our expectations even lower then normal. We had friends we wanted to see and thought it would be great to hang out and cuddle, and if we left after a few hours without our clothing having come off, we agreed that’d be fine. More then anything we just wanted to make sure we stayed together and enjoyed the night together and not plan or hope for much more.

And so, as any Hollywood B movie screenwriter will tell you, it was pretty much guaranteed that moments after entering the party, we’d meet a lovely couple we’d wind up spending the rest of the evening with.

We came in and said our hellos, and I noticed the cute couple in the corner by the drink table, neither of whom I’d seen there before. I stopped to chat with Lily for a few moments about my new blog, as Emma went to get water, and by the time I joined Emma at the drinks table she was deep in conversation with the two I’d noticed, who I learned were named Miranda and Robert. Small talk is never terribly pleasant- small talk at a sex party is a whole other layer of odd, but with Miranda and Robert, it just flowed easily. Others moved in and out of the conversation- there was a wonderful interlude with a young man who was so eager for others to get naked- but we kept finding more and more things to talk about with our new friends.

Eventually some people started migrating to the bedrooms to play. Normally Emma and I are among those leading the charge, but this particular evening we wound up hanging back. Eventually the four us found ourselves on the living room couch- enjoying the odd, but somehow quite normal seeming sensation of having the sort of pleasant conversation one normally might have at your favorite local coffee shop or neighborhood bar, but where the background noises weren’t classical music or indie rock, but instead the moans and whimpers and flesh against flesh sounds of the sexual escapades taking place in the next room. Its one of the things I love about Jefferson’s parties- sex isn’t a spectacle to be gawked at, or even to interrupt conversation for- its one of a number of things that take place in the course of a party.

I’ll skip the blow by blow of the rest of the evening (more on why in my next post). But suffice to say that as the night went on, hands started to wander, and we started to snuggle closer to each other. I found a way to ask and receive Miranda’s permission to caress her without too much conversational interruption and as my hands played their way up her legs and Emma leaned against Robert’s chest and stroked Miranda’s neck, I met Emma’s eyes and we shared one of those secret grins that makes me love her so much. That look of… “the cute people like us… eeeee. We might get these yummy people in bed and get to share this together- eeeeee!”

Did you ever have a friend whose house you went to at Christmas, or they came to yours? Or maybe it was with a sibling- but it was that person who you could share that moment of total joy and excitement with, in the moments before you got to tear into the presents under the tree? Take that moment, and imagine sharing it with a lover- that’s what that smile with Emma is like.

Hands wandered, and soon lips and teeth followed. We decided to explore a bit, and poked our heads into the other rooms- we saw bodies at play, but watching wasn’t the mood of the hour, and so we found ourselves back on the couch. Conversation continued, but pauses grew longer and longer as things became more and more erotically charged. Eventually we found out that one of the beds was unoccupied, and made our way to it.

We were probably on the bed for 2 hours or more- we’d play a bit, a bit more clothing would come off and we’d pause, catch our breath. Snuggle and talk and kiss and caress and fall back into playing and let things go a bit further. Miranda and Emma thoroughly enjoyed each other as well as both Robert and I, and the configurations kept shifting and changing, as two people lost themselves in each other for a bit, and then things morphed into more of a chain of all of us involved together. Robert and I didn’t play with each other- more on my own wonderings as to the fluidity of my own sexuality and my flitting back and forth between being straight or bi identified over the last few years in another post- but the four of us kept finding delicious new configurations as we all explored each other. On and on the night went, till eventually we found ourselves where my story started… watching Robert thrusting into Emma and then finding a condom for myself and feeling Miranda’s legs wrapping around me and drawing me into her.

Writing this, I keep wanting to laugh- I tend to be quite brusque in my erotic writing, and for this encounter I find myself straying into romance novel land in my imagery. But somehow it fits the mood of that evening.

Driving back home, Emma and I couldn’t stop smiling. I commented to her that given how things had worked out once I concluded that we should give up hope of finding something we could really share sexually, that I was officially giving up hope of finding the perfect spot for our wedding- since apparently that was guaranteed to make it happen!

We exchanged emails with Miranda and Robert, and we may well see them again. Or it may just be a lovely evening that is never repeated. Either way- a damn good night.

Sultry. Sensual. Earthy.

2007-07-28T08:49:00.000-04:00

It’s a sultry evening, and we’re waiting for a sultry lady.

Last night, I traveled to what one of the participants described as a “Crunchy Jewish Farm Co-Op” and joined some friends for a Shabbat celebration and dinner

A few dozen Jewish young adults, mostly college age or a little older, spend the summer as an intentional community – meditating together, studying Torah together, and farming together according to earth friendly, spiritually based practices. Friday night is the beginning of their Sabbath, or Shabbat, the day of rest, and it is welcomed in like a lover, like a bride, with celebration.

As the service enters, and we gather in a small hot room, the man who is leading tonight’s service (they rotate) tells us that it’s a sultry night, perfect for welcoming a sultry lady- Shabbat. He tells us not to fight the heat, the sweat, the feel and smell and earthy texture of it all, but to go into it- to feel that as the presence of the divine, of Shabbat, the sultry lady who comes to bring us rest.

Like any good Christian I’m a ritual and theology magpie- happy to steal any idea or concept that looks shiny and bring it back to my own nest/tradition. If there is anything that modern Christianity or I should say the white middle class frozen-chosen American Christianity of which I'm a part, lacks, it’s that sense of earthiness, of embracing the sultry, sensual side of God. We’d never sweat in a religious gathering, or certainly not embrace it and enjoy it. Last night showed me that any religious tradition could do well to embrace this idea, but in my own, a religion based on the idea that God literally took physical form, and lived in that form among us- such fear of our bodies, of sultriness, of heat and sweat, seems so antithetical to what the religion is all about.

Not the first time Christianity has strayed far from its roots. Nor, I’m sure the last. But something I look forward to challenging.

We need that earthiness. That sensuality. That understanding that a hot, sultry evening is a good place to find the divine.

Mornings ain't all bad

2007-07-21T10:41:00.000-04:00

The one thing that works about insomnia- morning sex.

Spending an hour or so in the early hours of the morning, dawn not far off, reading through blogs and tribe discussions, finding myself more and more drawn to sexual topics, and becoming more and more aroused. And then realizing, there is a gorgeous naked girl in my bed, and she has to be awake in an hour or so anyway, and so I start thinking...

I could wake Emma now. But no- I want to let her get as much sleep as she can. Besides, sex is all the more delicious after a long build up.

So I find a few more sites to surf. No outright porn, but discussions of sexual topics, people talking about their fantasies, their turn on’s, their favorite encounters, and I’m becoming more and more aroused, more and more ready for her. I can hear her, sighing softly in her sleep, look over and see the curve of her hip where the blanket has fallen off. Lovely.

Finally, I see that she has to be awake in 20 minutes. She’s rolled onto her side, away from me. Perfect. I slip into bed behind her, wrapping an arm around her, and pulling her close to spoon. She signs happily as I hold her- still asleep, but close enough to the surface to know I’m there. For a long moment, I just hold her, both to let her settle back into sleep, and to let her own body respond. I’ve found in the past, that just my own body pressed up against her like that, and she’ll grow a little wet.

I reach down to make sure I’m also lubed enough, and gently line myself up. I hear her sigh, hear her take in a breath… and then I push forward, my hand around her hips pulling her back onto me, and slowly but steadily entering her. Just as I feel her enveloping me, I hear her breath change- that lovely moment as she starts to come out of sleep, and her first waking thought is me inside her. My hand finds its way into her hair, and gently pulls, just enough so I can let my teeth play over her neck. She’s still half-asleep, but grinning lazily, pushing her hips back against me, and letting me take her.

Now she’s fully awake, moaning and whimpering as our pace speeds up. Finally, I explode, thrusting into her with all I have, and then collapsing against her. She sighs happily a final time, and lets me slip out, and then turns, wrapping her arms around me, her head on my chest, together enjoying the last few moments before we have to wake and face the day.

J.K and Judy

2007-07-20T19:05:00.000-04:00

Growing up, I loved Judy Bloom books. I’d say especially the ones about sex, but they were all about sex- and really, that’s why I loved em. I was a horny and curious 12 year old kid, and these books answered a lot of questions. Not just about sex and bodies but about boys and girls, and what the hell was going on and why I felt so weird when the cute girl smiled at me. I think the books were mostly aimed at young women, but I read them as soon as I the library got new ones. Probably a pre-cursor to my finding erotica more interesting then visual porn or other ways in which my sexuality and sexual curiosity is more of the female then the male cliché.

It’s on my mind tonight as I count the hours till the next, and last, Harry Potter book finds its way to my eager hands. Of course I’m eager to see the plot unfold and how it all comes together- but really, it’s the romance I’m most eager to see her develop. In the last few books, one of the things I have most enjoyed is how they’ve all wrestled with puberty and their changing feelings for each other. How well she’s developed that over a number of books without falling into cliché- there have been so many moments where reading about Harry and Hermoine and Ron and Cho and Ginny and all of their swirling affections took me back and I was able to remember exactly what they felt.

That’s why I loved Judy Bloom – because when I was a lonely horny emo teenager and thought no one had ever felt what I was feeling, she let me know I wasn’t alone. Many years later, reading about Harry’s jealousy over Ginny or about Ron and Hermoine fighting so hard against admitting their feelings for each other- I love it. I eat it up.

There’s a whole world of Potter slash/erotica out there, and I’m sure it’s interesting, but for me- the rush I get isn’t erotic. It’s about remembering when I was first starting to awake as a sexual being and how fantastic and overwhelming and terrifying that was. When Harry and Ginny finally kissed it didn’t turn me on- but I had to stop myself from cheering out loud. I want to see how that turns out, what happens with Hermoine and Ron- I want to read about romance and love and sex from a writer who gets it.

4 hours.

Make her cum- God demands it

2007-07-20T19:04:00.000-04:00

A friend and fellow blogger (and one day soon I'll figure out both the tech and ethics of referencing said blog in my own) recently pointed out that in Judaism, having sex and in particular bringing your female lover to orgasm is a mitzvah- a good and sacred act that is not only accepted by God, but is in accordance with God's will.

In the Sufi traditions of Islam, sexuality is seen as a form of worship, and orgasm is one way of achieving the state of blissful ecstasy in which we are open to the divine.

In Christianity, there has long been a sacred tradition which saw sexual connection as a way to experience intimacy with another, and through that intimacy the presence of God. It’s long been a small, and often silenced voice, but in the last few decades it’s been growing and finding a lot of support in mainstream Christian theology, not just on the fringes.

Those are the examples that immediately come to mind, but I know there are more. I imagine one would be hard pressed to find a religion where this idea of sacred sexuality, of the divine not only endorsing, but commanding us to enjoy our sexuality doesn’t pop up in some form or another. So, I throw it out to you, dear reader (or reader to be, since so far the readership of this blog is rather limited.)- What other sacred traditions have an idea like the Jewish Mitzvah of sexual pleasure? I would love to hear others.

Meanwhile, tonight I have a date with a wizard. I’m picking him up at midnight, and hoping he keeps me up till dawn.

Dramatis Personae

2007-07-16T10:22:00.000-04:00

It seems appropriate to introduce a few of the key players in my life, who will be making frequent appearances in these pages.

Adam- yours truly. I was never terribly good at coming up with names for myself, and as I’ve been mentioned as Adam in the blogs of other people I know in sex circles, it seem the name has stuck.

Emma- my fiancée. Somewhere along the way she got named as an Emily in someone’s blog, and as that name doesn’t quite fit- Emma she is. We met a few years ago and started as fuck buddies. We’d both recently had our hearts broken, discovered that we had similar kinks and sexual interests, and decided to have some fun and explore. Of course, we wound up in love. When it comes to sexual adventures, we often describe each other as our “partner in crime.” Sharing them with her is a big part of what I love about erotic exploits, be it seeing the glint of mischief in her eye as we’re seducing a pretty someone or someone’s, or laying in bed the night after some dirty adventure with a new lover or playmate, holding Emma and stroking her and telling her the story. Of course, the nights she comes home from a hot time with a new boy, horny and wound up and wants to pounce me and then tell me about her date aren’t too bad either.

As for our relationship, Emma and I move comfortably between the polyamorus, swinging, and kink worlds, and our relationship has shades of all three. She’s completely my equal, the only person in my life I can be totally vulnerable and open with, and who I trust to challenge and knock me down when I need it. She’s also my slave. A dual dynamic that throws off many other kinky types, but is the only way I could make it work. Blonde and beautiful with an ass that has people sometimes stop her on the street to ask her to appear in a rap video.

Rachel- my girlfriend. She lives upstate, but visits me when she can. Hot and geeky, my favorite combination. Our time together often involves theoretical discussions of science, shopping for corsets, thigh high boots and other kinky apparel for her to model for me and my friends, or long online World of Warcraft sessions.- a date when we’re far apart. She’s also helped me understand the erotic joys of Laser Tag when you go at a time when no one else is playing. Two people, alone in a maze- hunting. Chasing. Claiming a prize. So dorky, and so incredibly hot.

As for others- that part I’m still figuring out. Many of the others I interact with have blogs of their own, and I’m sure eventually I’ll start linking up with them. But most of my blogging till recently has been in the Livejournal world- much more insular, much more communal. I’m liking the more anonymous world here, not writing for a specific audience, not knowing or worrying about who is reading it, just putting my own thoughts out there for whoever finds them. But I’m still learning the etiquette- and I tend to shy toward the conservative as I learn the mores of a new world. Connection is a good thing, but I’d rather avoid name-dropping for its own sake or start listing people by their blog name without their consent. Sometime in the next week or so I hope to get together with a few of my other blogging friends, and pick their brains about it all.

Meanwhile, the weekend past brought nude beaches, play parties and Rachel’s first strap-on experience. And while all cry out to be documented, I should get a few hours work done before I set pen to paper, or in this case finger to keys, and document it all. Though I sense the naked Rachel in my bed might prevent too much work getting done this morning.

Poor me.

Smut- a Recent Adventure

2007-07-03T19:10:00.000-04:00

Sometimes I’ll be posting insights and thoughts and reflections. Other times- I just want to tell a dirty story to those who will listen.

This post comes from a recent adventure, a visit to the home of a friend of ours, Jefferson, who is well renowned for his sex blogging and, among other things, monthly orgies. I’m still setting up this blog, so things may be rocky at first as I learn how the features work, and as I check in with others I know who are part of the sex blog world and make sure it’s kosher to use their names or post links. But all of that later, for now- on to the smut.

When we walked in there were two very beautiful, very naked women sitting on the couch comfortably chatting away. Normally at this party people sit around and chat in the main room for a while, getting comfortable and getting to know each other, and then as the night goes on, people start to move into the playrooms in 2’s and 3’s and the like. By the end of the night nudity and play are everywhere, but generally it’s not till an hour or so into the party that the clothes start to come off. So seeing those two, one dark haired, one red, both exceedingly lovely, both obviously comfortable being casually naked without being, for that moment at least, terribly sexual but instead just causally chatting with people, was a nice site. Emma, my fiancée and I noted both of them with a lusty glance between the two of us- we don’t like to focus our attention too directly, and part of why we have such a good time is we don’t go with too much of a “hunting” attitude, but we definitely knew those two were at the top of our possibilities list.

So a little while later, Emma and I are chatting with friends, and I have my claws on, (a set of claws that fit on the end of each finger and make for lovely scratchy toys) and the brunette wanders over. We offer to show her the claws, and after they elicit some lovely moans it moves to teamwork- Emma’s lips and teeth on one nipple, mine on the other, and our hands supporting her as she lets her knees go weak. Wow, I so love those moments- when out of the corner of my eye I see that mischievous look in Emma’s eye as we are so dialed in with each other and mutually seducing someone yummy.

The brunette had mentioned earlier that she has to leave in an hour or so, and so I comment to Emma that it would be a pity to let the pretty girl leave without thoroughly ravishing her. Emma agrees and so I take the brunette’s hand and ask her if she’d like to move this to one of the bed rooms. She gets that look on her face of... “Hmmm, getting pounced by a hot couple- yea I could be into that…” that kind of coy- girlish, oh so slutty, I’m about to have hot sex, YEA! - look on her face that just drives me wild and into the bedroom we go.

Sometimes at play parties, the guys can feel a bit superfluous. Girls are all over each other, and open to getting fucked, or receiving attention, but its often somewhat one directional. Which is fine, and the play is still oh so hot, but a change is always nice. So when the brunette is pawing at the front of my jeans five minutes after we’re on the bed, and then opening my jeans and taking me into her mouth- damn that was nice. I normally am so active in those situations, but this time I just let myself enjoy, let my hands wander over both of them while my cock was receiving fantastic attention.

Eventually though I had to pounce- and there were fingers and biting and squirming and hotness among the three of us- and the bed broke.
It’s happened before, that bed has been through a LOT, and we quickly set it right. But dude- we broke a bed. We win

There was much giggling. Another major point- laughter during sex. We decided some actual fucking was in order, and so I grabbed a condom and she started going down on Emma and we were off on our favorite three person train ride. She has amazing hips, the kind of hips I could just grab onto and literally pull back onto me with every thrust into her until I came and we all sort of collapsed in a heap. I disposed of the condom (the ultimate anti-cuddle, but necessary moment) and we all just sort of fell onto each other, exchanging happy noises about, DAMN that was good, and wow we need to stay in touch. That doesn’t happen at most of the play parties I go to, there is often an air of “yea, that was fun, I’ll see you at next month’s party, and till then I’ll go back to the world in which you and these parties don’t exist.” So to have someone be eager to connect- that rocked.

Then there was more cuddling and laughter and free ranging discussion and two good friends joined us for cuddling and it was all quite calm while we were discussing finding poly friendly therapists the brunette made an off hand comment of “just cause I like to have the snot beaten out of me, doesn’t mean I’m crazy.”

Cute girl. Cute girlish giggly cute. And she’s a masochist!?! DING DING DING
I’d been definitely getting flashes of that from her while we fucked, and there had been some spanking and dirty whispering in her ear, but with so little time I wasn’t going to push it. But with an invitation like that- I mentioned that on a lark, I had brought a few floggers and at the mention the brunette’s eyes lit up like a kid who has just been reminded that Christmas is coming. A grown woman who gets excited like a little girl about hot dirty sexual activities- yum.

So we got her bent over the bed and I started working on her with the floggers, starting gentle cause I have no idea how much experience she has and how much she can take and how much warm up she needs- and she says “ you hit like a girl!” And I just laugh- cause now it’s on. Emma starts giggling evilly in that “ooooo, you’re in trouble” sort of way, and I start wailing. Now I’ve got her attention- she’s crying out, calling me names, whimpering and yelling- but pointedly not safe wording despite reminders to the contrary. Instead she’s being a bitchy, bratty, smart-ass- just the sort of lass to warm a young sadist’s heart. She comments on how my floggers feel good but one of my other toys just hurts in an annoying way- and I get to laugh, and ask her why I should care. Her body’s reaction to that statement is answer enough. She’s calling me names, telling me what a bastard I am, and can’t stop squirming in that turned on and loving it kind of way, and I’m happy as a clam.

I don’t take it as far as we could- I don’t have much time, or many of my toys, and as much as I know she knows she CAN safe word, and so when she puts her hands up to stop me what she is wanting is to be put RIGHT back into her place and beat some more- I’d still like to know her better, and have a better sense of where the lines between “wow I hate that, and love that you are doing it to me anyway” and “ wow, that’s just not fun, stop” are for her. But after we finished, I grabbed her by the hair and pulled her to me, and told her to stop bitching and suck me, and she did so eagerly- so I’m pretty sure she had a good time. ;)

The crazy thing? This was just the first part of the night.

First Post- Finding God at a Sex Party

2007-07-03T18:05:00.000-04:00

My first post, and it comes as my fiancé and I get ready to attend one of our favorite adult affairs. (more about her in a post or two, when I do a cast of characters). I wouldn’t call it a sex party per se- certainly not a swing party. Its an evening of people dressing up (or down) to be as sexy as the like, dancing and flirting and exploring, with areas set up where those who want to can find a semi-private bed, either paired off or in larger groups. Imagine the kind of party where the sexual energy is high and as the evening goes on it seems more and more people are wishing they could “get a room”- and the hosts have been good enough to provide rooms and beds and condoms.

It’s a great night- good people and good music, people dressing up sexy, burlesque and other entertainments. And the whole set up means that there is a lot less pressure then you often find at swing clubs- some people just dance and enjoy the energy, some flirt and play a bit, some just watch with the lover or friends they came with- others wind up shocking themselves with how comfortable they feel throwing clothes and inhibitions aside. More then anything, what I love when I’m there is the warmth and openness of the people we meet. The people who run the parties are part of the BurningMan community, as are many who attend, and that energy is very present- very much a participatory, communal kind of feeling.

For me- that ties in so well to what makes that kind of semi-public, semi-anonymous, sexual encounter fit so well in my head- what makes it sacred for me.

A central idea in Christian theology is that of finding Christ in the act of intimate kindness with a stranger. For 2000 years, Christian theologians have told stories about experiencing the Divine in an act of giving to someone they have no connection with- offering food or clothes to someone in need, opening their home to someone who needs a warm bed for the night, picking up a hitchhiker and getting the chance to hear their story while giving a ride. (Christians don’t have a monopoly on this idea by any means, but the particular spin on it that I’m discussing comes out of that tradition).

A few years ago, a Christian minister I know told an interesting story. He told us about how he experienced that same kind of moment, of finding the sacred in a moment of intimacy with a stranger, in a gay male bathhouse. That there were times when for him, sex with strangers in bathhouses was nothing but pure need being met, and he saw nothing wrong with that on its own terms, but that there were times where it become so much more- where he and a stranger shared an intensely intimate, sexual encounter and he felt like he saw the face of God looking back at him in the eyes of this man whose name he did know as he brought that man to orgasm.

I’ve had moments like that at play parties and orgies. Once at a Pagan conference- the memories of that night still send chills up my back.

Sex on its own is lovely- and needs nothing else to make it worthwhile. And there is so much of the sacred to be found in sex with someone I know well. But the kind of sacred moment that comes from connecting with a stranger- the glint in her eye when we first touch, the hint of mischief when she lowers her head to my lap and starts to suck me off, the heat with which she grabs me and pulls me deeper into her- and as we catch our breath and share a last kiss and drift apart, knowing that something primal and ancient has been shared between us, something that can be expressed in so many different languages and sacred traditions, but is for me, so very Christian- tonight I’m craving that.

In a few hours we’re going to the party. Tonight- I want to pray.