Addict

I have been spending a lot of time with Good Kisser lately; our schedules have led to the opportunity for some long afternoons in bed, and we have taken advantage of that time with no small degree of enthusiasm. He continues to be Good At Kissing, of course, but the sex... which honestly surprised me at first with how satisfying it was, is starting to develop into something that just turns me, during the time we are together, into a hot mess of lust. And when we are not together in bed, I just bask in the benefits that one can get out of simply having lots of orgasms, (never mind the pleasure of having someone in your life that thinks you are just the thing, sexually, and tells you so often). Better skin, better mood - no better sleep yet, but you can't have everything- and  better energy levels. At the moment, I am the cat walking with her tail high in the air.

However, I do feel like being with him has taken some getting used to. I did meet him on a vanilla site, and he never had this claim to being a Dominant but why should he label himself, after all. Why should any of us?  He is dominant in bed - I don't have a sense of being in control at all, physically or otherwise, but I think it is different, to the partners I have had in the past. What is different for me is that he gets his pleasure from my pleasure; So while he clearly enjoys spanking me, I am spanked because I love to be spanked, he pins me down because it turns me on to have my limbs restrained, and whereas in the past I might have spent time giving my partner loving and enthusiastic oral sex, it seems like my task is to lay there with my hips pinned to the bed until his tongue on my pussy, oversensitised already from two or three orgasms in quick succession, elicits yet another climax. Which I'm sure you would agree, is hardly a terrible predicament to be in.

I think finally, the difference is in the freedom. If I want an orgasm, I will have one without asking- usually. If I want to change position in order to better enjoy what we are doing, I mostly can.If something is too much, I don't feel the need to get through it because we have this dynamic that means I should push myself for his pleasure, we just stop it. It occurs to me that some readers might consider the preceding statements to be a bit... strange. In most dynamics what I have described here is probably the norm. But I suppose when you  practise (I'm not sure this is the word I am looking for) BDSM, other things become normal. This is neither good nor bad necessarily, just different. Anyway, the point is  I think we both know that ultimately, he is in charge of what happens in  bed - which is necessary, but right now seems like my job is lying back and having a great time. So I'm trying to become really proficient at that for his benefit. Tough life. All of this for a woman who, a few short months ago couldn't really remember what sexual pleasure felt like. My biggest problem now? Getting out of his bed.

You can talk to me...

So I have a friend, who I am very fond of. Despite everything.
She has lots of really amazing qualities that I love and that I am not always in great supply of: she is patient, open and friendly to new people and situations, optimistic and creative. I love spending time with her for these reasons. She also has a car crash mother, so we have a lot to talk about.
But. She is nosey, and a touch judgemental (she disapproved to me, quite strongly about her sister, who meets men from the internet in the interest of having purely sexual relationships. Imagine that.) and a bit of a gossip. I know things about mutual friends and acquaintances that I just should not know because of her free way with information. And so for reasons that I am sure you quite understand, reader, I am reluctant to share too much with her. She knows that I don't have sex with my partner, but that's all really.

We usually swap a bit of daytime babysitting once a week, and this Wednesday it was my chance to escape into adultland for a few hours. I dropped my son off and sat down for the obligatory cup of tea. I had a date that afternoon, so I was reluctant to hang around too long, but she really wanted to chat. About what I was doing that afternoon, and why, why had I escaped the mummy uniform of jeans and a top.. and wow.. you really look nice when you do your eye makeup like that.
So here's what I wanted to say:

I'm going to go to a nice hotel in town now, where I will meet a lover in the bar. He lives a couple of hundred miles away and doesn't get here very often, so you can understand I am quite eager to see him. We will have a drink and then we will go in the lift to a room.If it is anything like last time, when we are in the lift he will probably stand behind me and put his hand up my skirt, to check that I have been obedient in not wearing knickers, and if we have more than one floor to travel, his fingers might find my pussy. He will be pleased, because I am an obedient girl. If it is anything like last time, We will go into the room and immediately the door is closed he will push me down onto my knees and fuck my mouth until I dribble and cry and he has forced the air out of my lungs. My remaining clothes will be removed and he will spend the next hour or so alternating between slapping me hard in varying places and pushing me to almost-orgasm with his fingers and mouth but not quite allowing me to get there. He will say some horrible things to me whilst doing this, he will call me a slut and a whore and tell me all the nasty things he wants to do to me. Just when I feel like I will explode, he will push my legs apart and fuck me. If I am lucky he will kneel between my legs and rub my clit as he fucks me so I can quickly come over his nice big cock. Then he will make me kneel in front of him and he will fuck me from behind whilst holding my hips and giving my arse the odd slap. I might come again. He will take a wet finger, and slowly but firmly bury it in my arse, whispering now about fucking me there. This will make me growl and pant with arousal, and his thrusts will get faster and deeper until he comes inside of me. After this we will hold eachother, and talk and nap until I have to go.
Or you know, we might do something different.

But I said: Oh, I'm just meeting a friend for a drink in town.
And she said, looking me in the eye in a searching way:  You can tell me anything you know, you can talk to me.

Right, Uh huh.
No.

Fucking Sexy Bitch

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The first time I: Picked up a girl

Carrie wasn't the first woman I had been to bed with, but she had been the first woman I had ever been to bed with without the instigation of a male partner to make up a third, and I think she was the first (ok,only) person I ever looked at and thought 'Ok. I am going to try and get you into bed. This night.'
As a sexually submissive person, I don't really do the chasing, or the prodding. There is either acquiescence on my part, or there isn't. But with Carrie, I knew she wasn't going to try anything, I knew it was unlikely I would see her again and so I knew it was down to me.

I met her at a long and boring conference.Three days away in a purpose built facility in the middle of nowhere, with bad catering, close confinement with colleagues that I hated, long days of long meaningless speeches, and the dreaded 'team building' exercises. There was the end of conference dinner though, and that's where I met her.

I checked the table plan for the dinner, and was quite relieved to find there wasn't anyone from my office at my table. I wandered over, the last to sit down, and there she was. Right next to me.  A woman I thought looked so fucking beautiful that the clouds broke, and the misery of the last three days just disappeared in a puff of wonderfully scented smoke. Long, curly red hair, porcelain skin and small,perfect breasts that seemed to hold themselves up under her strapless dress. Happily, I found out later, they appeared as perfect out of the dress as they were within it. And we clicked, we really clicked. It was like we were the only people at the table. The food came and went, the wine was finished and we looked up and found we really were alone at the table. And I felt it then, as I watched her pink lips move as she talked and laughed, I felt... the chemistry. I just wanted to touch her and kiss her all over.
She said something about wanting another drink...

"I have.. we have some alcohol.. in our room. We could get it? The bar might be a bit quieter later?" God. That sounded lame, was that lame?
She smiled widely and nodded and we went up to the room I had been sharing with my colleague to pick up the bottle of vodka that she and I had purchased on the way up. A moment of hesitation as I looked at the two single beds scattered with discarded clothes, towels  and make-up.What if my colleague came back? That's the moment when it struck me, I think, that I absolutely had to have her, because I so was worried we would be disturbed. We looked at eachother.
"I'm not sharing a room with anyone" she offered, with a smile.

We sat on the sofa in her room together, the vodka unopened on the table in front of us. She carried on chatting away to me, about her favourite bars in Manchester, her hairdresser, where she liked to go shopping, so much girl stuff.
I put my hand on her wrist.
"You look really pretty in that dress" I said, cringing inwardly at what felt like the most cheesy chat up line in history, ever; "and you have such a beautiful figure".
And then she smiled, and blushed, and looked away, "Wow, thanks...You do too"

I didn't let go of her wrist, but tightened my grip on it slightly, pulling it in my direction.
She looked back at me, her lips parted slightly in surprise, and I held her eye. I looked at her face, her mouth and I she began to blush again as I think she realised what I was going to do next.
I pulled her wrist again, gently but quite firmly and drew her toward me. Our lips millimetres away from eachother, I checked her reaction. She looked nervous.
And I leaned in again, and I kissed her  as gently as I could, slipping the tip of my tongue between her soft lips. She opened her mouth slightly and I kissed her again, more firmly. And then, she kissed me back, shyly at first and more and more passionate. My hand left her wrist and wrapped itself in her hair, so I could pull her more closely to me. I couldn't get over how soft she was, how good she smelt. I could have kissed her all night, if that was all there was.
But I found my other hand moving toward her breast, and I slipped my hand inside her the front of her dress to find her bra less, her nipple stiff under my fingers. I gently stroked it between my finger and thumb, and heard her moan slightly. We carried on kissing for a while, as I stroked her breast, but I started to need more than to kiss her. I broke off the kiss and smiled at her.
"Come with me"
I stood up and took her hand, and led her over to the side of the bed. I reached around her and felt for the zip that sent her dress falling to the floor, leaving her standing in just a little pair of black knickers. She had a small, firm body and it was so lovely that I couldn't resist but take both of her breasts in my hands and squeeze them gently. She had that nervous look again, so I gently laid her on the bed and curled up next to her.
"Is this ok?" I whispered, tracing a pattern on her skin with my fingers. She nodded. I knelt up and I unzipped my own dress and removed my bra and lay back down next to her. She put her hand on my breast then, kneading it softly and our mouths found eachother again. I moved on top of her, incredibly aroused now, and moved down her body so I could nibble at her breasts. She sighed and moaned, lifting her hips toward me, her thighs parting slightly and I started to stroke the lips of  her pussy through her knickers, to a muffled cry.
I moved further down her body, kissing a trail down her flat stomach until I reached the top of her knickers. I looked back and she lifted her hips again, pushing her pussy up toward my face so I pulled her knickers down over her legs and spread her thighs apart. She had a beautiful pussy, soft and pink , I was dying to taste it. Instead, I knelt between her legs and began to stroke her lips, softly flicking the hood of her clit with my thumb watching her as her arousal grew and she began to hump her pussy against my fingers. I put a finger inside of her and she cried out again. I knelt down again, as I moved my finger in and out, and gently began to lick the length of her pussy, now dripping wet, as she began to grind against my mouth.
I pinned down one of her hips with my free hand and started to flick her clit with my tongue.
It didn't take long, until the moans became cries, until her thighs clamped around my head and my hands became redundant, and not long after that, she tensed against me and, with a final shudder and a squeak, came against me. I kissed her puss very gently, and moved up the bed to look at her, her red hair now sticking to her flushed face, smiling at me.

She lifted her head to kiss me hungrily, a different person ,she seemed to have lost her inhibitions and I lay down next to her again. I really needed her to touch me now, so I pulled off my knickers and took her hand. She smiled at me, and propped herself up on her elbow, looking at me closely as she reached down between my thighs and slid her middle finger into my wet pussy. I don't really think she had done this to another woman before, and the thought of that made me feel even more turned-on. I gasped as her fingers found my clit, and she began to tap lightly, rapidly on it, watching my face as I panted, open mouthed at the incredibly intense stimulation. Her fingers began to move more quickly and she bent her head to kiss and bite my neck. I closed my eyes until there was nothing on earth other than that hot mouth on my neck and the feeling in my pussy. I could feel my hips beginning to buck as the pressure built up and I reached out blindly for her as I came, harder than I had in a long while, against her hand.

That night, I fell asleep with Carrie, the sensation of being wrapped around a soft, smooth, warm body completely irresistible to me, but when I woke up in the early hours I gathered my things and went back to my room. I thought about trying to see her again. I could find her through the company, I supposed, but I didn't think it would be a good idea.
I still think about her sometimes, if for no reason other than to get myself off but when I look back at the few women I have been with, it wasn't the best sex ever. It wasn't the most exciting sexual narrative. But was a good confidence booster and a memorable enough night.
I miss the girl sex, sometimes.