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Sep 9, 2008 01:05 PM
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New York, 10:22 AM
Tue Feb 9
23 posts in the last 24 hours
We're all for free-style fucking ... where stuff just, you know, happens. Organically, as it were, as well as orgasmically. But there's something to be said for the more structured variety of sex; the kind where we find ourselves saying "Yes ma'am," or "Yes sir." The bloggers in today's roundup of some of the most demanding moments in the sex blog scene know what we mea: they give (and receive) such specific directions that there's really nothing to do but obey first and ask questions later. Much later. Like, after everyone's clothes are back on.
Don't step out of line with AlwaysArousedGirl after the jump.
. . .
Sex Blog Roundup
by AlwaysArousedGirl
- - -
"My Master asked me to call you. He said I'm coming to see you at your apartment tomorrow night and I'm to ask you for any instructions you might have."
Oh boy.
I most DEFINITELY had instructions.
I had seen photos of her curvaceous lovely body. So I told her to wear clothes that highlighted her cleavage.
I told her that her vocabulary would be limited to the words "yes, please" from the moment she entered my apartment.
I told her that I'd use a paddle on her ass if she broke that rule. I also told her when to arrive and cautioned that she'd receive one smack from the paddle for each minute she was late.
She was one minute late.
- No-Brow
. . .
Another Evening Without an ASBO
'Yes, it's not bad, is it?' I said whilst stradding Greg's thick cock and grabbing onto the side of the tub. I love it for the way I can get into all sorts of acrobatic positions that I'd never be able to accomplish out of the water. The water was washing away my fluids as fast as I was producing them but once the big head of his cock slid through the entrance, he went in easily. We kissed and for a moment, it felt like it was just the two of us. We have a special kind of intimacy. Not the intimacy of two people who love each other but the intimacy of two people who have known each other a long time.
. . .
The sensation of carnivorous, enveloping heat made him whimper, and the sister at his lips slipped a long, satisfied hissing breath into his mouth. Jean-Michel felt his soul abandon him, releasing a long-dormant beast within his heart. He reached beneath the surface and grabbed at Mary's exquisitely formed ass, pushing her onto his cock. Her hips rolled as she rode him, holding him tight with her legs, her tight, hot passage milking him. She gave a low growl and bit into his lower lip.
Pain and pleasure bloomed in equal measure. He savoured his own blood on his lips at the same time she did. The taste triggered something inside her, for she tilted back her bloody mouth and keened as her body shuddered violently.
. . .
I felt it slowly slide between my legs. Moving from mid-thigh up towards my ass. Was I awake? I couldn't be. But I don't usually have such vivid dreams like this. It felt heavy and substantial. It was soft and yet firm. Then I felt a shift on the bed. Someone lowering themselves onto me. It was quick and precise. A hand on the back of my neck forcing my face down into the bed. I felt the full weight of their body on top of me. The thickness burrowing deeper between my legs.
. . .
Then she took my hand. She started slowly caressing my palm with her fingertips and nails. Rubbing my flesh in hers like a piece of clay. I was silent except for my tiny gasps for breath. I tried to focus all of the terror into my hand and let Sarah take it away, mash it in her soft fingers until it was nothing.
She lifted my arm and placed her soft, full lips against my palm. I sighed and felt a familiar excitement surge within me. She kept kissing my hand and caressing my wrist and arm. Teasing me with the promise of what her touch could be. I was on fire and I was still terrified.
. . .
Soon enough I turn up the vibrations, low at first, sliding it out a couple of times to run it over my clit, before turning it up high and ramming it in. I'm crying out as I cum over and over, clutching wildly at my pillow, at my headboard, writhing and thrusting my hips against an imaginary lover. I cannot contain my cries, nor do I want to, and I've long ago given up counting orgasms, as I normally lose count in the high twenties, and I'm probably already nearing that number.
- Even the Tightest Bonds are Sweetest Silk
* * * * *
• Thumbnail via Men In Pain (TGP/preview gallery @ femdomhub.com, via Ask Jolene)
• See also: Sugasm #145: The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them (sugasm.com)
• Previously: Sex Blog Roundup Archive
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