I’m sure you’re all familiar with the myth that women prefer cuddling to sex. I think the biggest reason for that myth is that our cultural concept of sex is so skewed. We consider intercourse the ultimate and often the only sex act. Oral sex, fingering, humping, playing with toys, and a whole variety of other things that get women off (because they involve clitorises instead of just vaginas) do not count as sex to most men.

Alicia
Paper Cuts and Plastic: Women and “Sex”

start to spank him

February 25, 2018

sunday fun 10

Tell your man to go to the bedroom and undress to his briefs. Inform him that you’ll be up in a few minutes to give him a spanking. Let him wait ten or fifteen minutes, so he can think about the spanking he has coming.

Get a paddle back hairbrush or a spoon and go to the bedroom. This way he’ll see the implement he will be punished with in your hand when you walk into the room.

Sit on the bed and tell him to stand in front of you. Calmly tell him why he is going to be spanked and remind him that he deserves the spanking he is about to receive. Pull his briefs down to mid thigh and bend him over your left thigh, with his upper body resting on the bed. Put your right leg over his and have him put his right arm behind his back so he can’t try to cover his bottom. Hold his hand against his back. Now that he is helpless start to spank him with the hair brush or spoon, alternating cheeks. Spank him until his bottom is good and red. If he squirms too much during his spanking, spank his upper thighs and tell him to stay still.

When the spanking is over you may decide to lie back on the bed while your husband makes you come through oral sex. It can be good fun.

 

DW

Spanking Games

Sarah Bernhardt in pensive mood

I exist here in the wrong time and place. This is more than a feeling with me: it is an absolute certainty, I belong elsewhere – “fin de siècle”  Paris, for example!

Yes, a time of ‘semiotic arousal’, and in a place considered the heart of civilisation.

Why not?

The year 1900. The newly gilded Eiffel Tower thrusting into the soft grey underbelly of the evening sky. Lights glowing along the Boulevard de Strasbourg, circles of yellow eating into the gloom. The Théâtre-Français is my destination. Here, the long-awaited premiere of Edmond Rostand’s play L’ Aiglon, staring that most popular of actresses, Sarah Bernhardt, is about to take place.

Ah, Bernhardt, her ripe fifty-five-year-old figure laced into a black satin corset before dressing in the tight uniform of the Duc de Reichstadt. How I would love to charm and seduce her. Together we could sip the best champagne from frosted crystal flutes following her stunning performance. I could unlace that confining corset, and free tiny pale breasts.

During rehearsals of the play, dear Sarah insisted in one scene on having a horse on stage. What Sarah wanted, Sarah got. A horse was duly sent for – but proved too ‘frisky’ for the great actress. A second horse was supplied, but this one, unfortunately, suffered from terrible flatulence, and the many farts erupting from its rear-end were unacceptable to all. A third horse was to be summoned, but Bernhardt had changed her mind. There would be no horse in the scene.

Where was I? Oh, yes, fondling those small but beautiful breasts, lightly kissing the rosette nipples.

Sarah was born Henriette Rosine Bernard and her legendary affairs were the talk of the town. Napoleon III and Edward, Prince of Wales had both taken their delight in Sarah’s naked flesh (not, of course, at the same time!); they were just two of a coterie of lovers attracted to the bright flame that was Sarah Bernhardt. Her body was pale and skinny like a boy’s – which may be why she played so many male parts on stage?

“It’s not that I prefer male roles, it’s that I prefer male minds,” she once commented.

Paris Exposition Universelle in 1900

The Great Exposition Universelle – Paris 1900

Leaving Sarah semi-naked in her dressing room, I exit the theatre and make my way to the Place de la Concord – here I find the brilliantly lighted, multicoloured dome that houses fifty-six ticket offices for the exposition universelle: this is the entrance, Porte Binet, to the exhibition site.

There is, on my righthand, a fifteen foot high plaster statue symbolizing Paris, with great tits and flowing robes designed by Paquin. La Parisienne, sculpted by Paul Moreau–Vauthier, modeled on non-other than Sarah Bernhardt and described by many as ‘The triumph of Prostitution’; it is typical of the use of sculpted allegory throughout the exhibition grounds. No matter where you turn, you are confronted by plump plaster breasts, curvaceous bellies or muscular male athletes, semi-nude, with huge rippling biceps.

Dear Sarah, walking here amongst all this exposed allegorical flesh, would undoubtedly feel a certain dampness in her baggy silken drawers – as, in all probability, do many visiting females. Speaking for the male of the species, I find Loie Fuller’s spectacular dancing in her own art nouveau theater, quite arousing: those whiplash curves match the flowing movements of her body and flying, illuminated veils. It all leads one, inevitably, to remain in the perpendicular throughout her performance.

The most obviously picturesque sections of the exhibition lay along the banks of the Seine. Old Paris on the Right Bank with its gables and spires and its costumed actors; on the Left Bank, overshadowing it, rests the Rue des Nations – great pavilions erected by the many foreign powers (but not the US whose modest building is wedged between Australia and Turkey, elsewhere). Richness metamorphosed into vulgarity. The plaster picturesqueness of the colonial section below the Trocadero, where Javanese nymphets vie with devil dancers from Ceylon, Chinese violins, Spanish castanets, African drums and high pitched wails of Algerian singers, mingle –

And the pretty Moroccan boys with their dark, restless eyes who offer to take your penis in their mouth for a couple of francs. Buggery is slightly more expensive, of course.

Paris moving pavements designed for the Exposition

Moving Pavements designed for the Exposition

Art and sex go hand-in-hand. For the gentleman impossibly aroused by the sights and sounds of the exposition universelle and with no desire for young boys, then beyond the exhibition grounds are the maisons closes, or “shuttered houses”; for example number 12, rue Chabanais, a prestigious bordello where you can bathe with prostitutes in a huge copper bathtub of champagne – for a price! There are other brothels offering more specialised services: dominatrix role play, for example. You can be birched by the dominatrix for five francs a stroke, ‘manual relief’ may be offered afterwards for a further five francs.

Typical Parisian brothel on a quiet day

Paris 1900 is an island of fantasy and pleasure. It is a time of sadomasochistic impulses, Oedipal desires, homosexuality, incest, violence and the irrationality that hides beneath the fragile veneer of civilisation.

Ah, but I cannot remain in this wonderful Paris – I must return to my damp, cold moor at the edge of the world; to this place, home, and my reckless liaisons. To this world where one powerful, egotistical child informs another powerful, egotistical child: ‘My button is bigger than your button!’

Who says satire is dead?

Depressing démarche!

What do you tongue on Sunday morning…?

I like going down on a woman because:

The sounds: the way she whimpers; the way she brings it up back to my mouth when I stop licking. The broken moans. Hearing her breathing get harder & feeling her legs shaking, when she looks down at me as I look up at her, and she bites her lip, my gosh. The way her back arches. The way she grinds her clit on my tongue. The death grip on my head right before she cums and her legs give out. The way she pulls me back up & tastes herself on my lips.

Angela Bell
Lipstick Lesbian

21st May

Reality is multi-faceted. We inhabit this world and often describe it with words – but if you know the correct combination of words…well, then you can make this world whatever you want it to be. That’s magic, you see. And magic and words is all you’ll ever need.

#

I can’t help but enjoy her helpless pleading. It’s a silly game we play, I know, but when she cries:

‘No, not there, please….pleeeasssseee.’

And I force it to fit, and see the expression on her face in the mirror on the far wall. That moment feels so erotically charged.

#

Last summer seven of us around Dave and Mary’s swimming pool. Sophia and Vic arguing, then wrestling between a pair of sunbeds, like truculent children. Vic yowling when Sophia twists his cock. She has it out of his trunks, semi-erect, gripping it in her small fist. He is red-faced, sweating…We watch Vic forced gradually to his knees, breathing noisily, unable to free himself or counter Sophia’s vice-like hold.

‘Stop struggling.’ She orders. ‘Stop now or I’ll tear it out by the root.’

‘Alright, alright.’

His sister Babs calls out vaguely obscene acts Sophia might force him to comply with, and Vic yells out:

‘Whose side are you on, Sis?’

Sophia’s eyes are bright with this unexpected victory and the sense of power she has over him. She is on one knee beside him. The knuckles griping his twisted cock are white with the effort, while her other hand has now captured his exposed balls. His shorts are down round his thighs. One of his hands is pressed to the ground supporting his weight, the other is wrapped loosely round Sophia’s right wrist. He can’t tug at her because she twists harder, both balls and cock.

‘Come on,’ he says ‘Enough is enough. Let go now – ’

‘Make him suck Kenny’s cock,’ Babs’ suggests. She is quite intoxicated by sun and vodka. ‘Let’s see him do that…We could all use a laugh.’

Ken B rolls on his side on the bright orange sunbed. Using his thumbs he works his trunks over his hips. Fat, meaty cock standing to attention.

‘Bring it on,’ he cries. Removing his sunglasses, he gives Vic a nasty wink.

‘Come on, I’m not doing that,’ says Vic. ‘Not for anyone – ’

And he moans in pain as Sophia twists harder, her conquering smile at his shoulder.

‘You’ll do exactly as I say.’ She says this with such passion. ‘Now up you get, slave boy, and over to Kenny. You’re going to do a bit of sucking – ’

‘He can do me, when he’s finished with Ken,’ Mary calls. She props herself up on her sunbed, both tits exposed and glowing. ‘Like to lap at my cup Vic? I’ve been in the pool so it’s all washed for you.’

General laughter and applause round the pool as Vic is forced to his knees beside Kenny’s sunbed. Head forward, face brushing Ken’s cock before Vic finally takes it reluctantly into his mouth.

‘There’s a good boy,’ says Sophia. ‘You take to that like a duck to water. A baby with its pacifier.’

The sight of his bobbing head produces laughter all around. Kenny gives this slightly obscene wriggle when he cums in Vic’s mouth. The hateful expression on Vic’s face as he straightens up causes yet more laughter.

‘Me next,’ cries Mary. Dave tells her to behave herself, but she’s unknotted her bikini bottom, and raised one leg into the air. To open herself wider, she draws the folds of skin apart with her fingers. ‘Here you are. All ready for you.’

And within seconds Vic is on his knees and feverishly pressing his lips to this small pink conch shell. More enthusiasm in his movements now. Her thighs press to his ears. He licks at the growing wetness, face flushed, breathing loudly. Again applause around the pool at the climax of this vulgar ritual. Her long body shuddering in the throes of joy…

Sophia finally releases him.

Vic pulls up his trunks.

And everyone applauds the fine performance.

I’d been married five years when I learned my husband was cheating on me. After the inevitable confrontation with him and the all the usual recriminations, I told him I couldn’t forgive what he’d done.

I couldn’t!

I was seething inside and wanted payback like I’ve never wanted anything else in my life before. I started cleaning the toilet each morning with his toothbrush. I put laxative in his food…but that wasn’t enough!

I’ve had this fantasy where multiple males would ‘take’ me repeatedly. I’d never mentioned it to anyone. Nor had I done anything to make fantasy, reality. Until now.

It took a lot of organizing but eventually I arranged a fourteen man gangbang which I had my best friend film. The action went on for most of one weekday. They had me four times each, and Gloria (my friend) filmed the ‘highlights’.

When hubby came home from work I told him ‘If you want forgiveness you get down on your knees and lick my pussy…’ I was sore down there, you know, but I hadn’t showered or anything, and not only was I a little swampy, I also had a stink in my panties like four day old anchovies. And it was all going to be for him, the bastard.

Anyway, down he got on his knees. I took my panties off and spread really wide. He buried his face deep in my vertical smile and started licking…An hour (and three orgasms) later, I told him, ‘Okay. That’s enough for now. There’s a homemade DVD beside the player. Watch it and see why you’re forgiven for now…I’m going for a shower.’

While he went off to watch his ‘film’ I fixed myself a stiff drink. A little later I looked round the living room door and he was watching me take two cocks simultaneously, front and back – but not only watching. He’d got his dick in his hand and was rubbing it like it was Aladdin’s lamp. Only instead of a genie he eventually shot a load of thick cum over his suit pants leg while I stood there silently watching…

What the hell! I should be surprised at this man who’d screw anything that moved – including the venetian blinds! One thing I’ve learned from the whole sorry experience – in future I’ll be the heroine of my life, not the victim!

Mary T

Iris Parker
True sex confessions

I’d love to watch another man suck my husband’s cock, basically because it’s so big it hurts my jaw when I do it.

Source HERE

kiss

When I was younger I got involved in Taekwondo and was really enjoying it (I still do), but unfortunately things got tight financially at home and my parents told me we had to cut back on expenses.

I told my instructor that I would be quitting. She was understanding about the reason why, but said she would be willing to work things out with me so I didn’t have to quit.

I still got to train but after a few weeks, she asked me to stay on after class. She said she would let me continue to train for free, if I was willing to do something in return for her.

At first it was just letting her do things to me. She would ask to see my pussy; sometimes she’d touch it, put her fingers in me, things like that.

I knew it was “wrong”, but it was exciting too and felt good so I let her do whatever she wanted to do with me. Eventually she started asking me to do things to her, and our relationship progressed from there.

I told my parents that she gave me a job cleaning the dojo after class so I didn’t have to quit. She made me cum two, three times a session. She had me lick her out and finger fuck her hard and fast. She used to shriek loud when she came.

I consider myself straight. She’s the only woman I’ve been with ever, but I must confess, I still fantasize about her and the things we did together. And often, thinking about her, I have to masturbate. There, I said it…

Source

Blowjobs…

May 15, 2016

suck

‘I’ve given guys blow jobs just because I’ve run out of things to talk about.’

‘Oh, Rae. Who hasn’t’

Anne Lamott
Crooked Little Heart