Horny on Sunday

Leads to Masturbation on Monday. This post is the narrative behind yesterday’s Sinful Sunday post.

We had spent time painting, finishing off the walls in the hall and stairs that we had started before Christmas. Some areas were places that we had missed and others were scuff marks from things being moved in an out when my son stored his belongings in the house between flat moves.

Over lunch we discussed perhaps leaving the paintwork and getting someone in to finish the job for us. I want to get moving on the house sale, but don’t really want to put in the time and effort any more. We want to relax and enjoy ourselves at the weekends and also have some fun and a life.

Sitting on the sofa after lunch Master suddenly appeared in front of me, unzipped his trousers and revealed a hard cock. Of course I put down the laptop and leaned forward to take him into my mouth. He pushed the full length of his shaft into my mouth and I felt the tip brush the back of my throat. He instructed to just hold it in my mouth. As I did so, I closed my eyes and concentrated on the large phalanx filling me and felt my cunt begin to throb a little in response. Pulling away he instructed me to strip my clothes off and bend over. I took off trousers, panties and socks and bent over the sofa and he used his fingers to ready my vulva for his entry. I was surprisingly dry.

His fingers felt rough on my pink and dry cunt and he lubricated them by licking them. I exclaimed that I hate the way in which the menopause is having this kind of effect on my body and he acknowledged that the taste of me has become more intense. Not to be put off though he persevered with stroking me, caressing  my clitoris and pushing his finger and then two inside. Part of me wanted to pull away at that moment, sometimes I have to resist the urge to give in to the idea that my libido is reducing and that I can take or leave him. I am his slave and saying no doesn’t come easy, however he is a very understanding Master. But no, I wanted this, he wanted it and inside my body was telling me that it wanted this too.

Suddenly he was able to push inside through the tightness and I felt the juices suddenly flow. Not quite flood gates, but sufficient for the lubrication that was necessary. He felt for my tits and squeezed my nipples, and at the same time withdrew his cock and pushed back inside.

He withdrew and instructed me to mount him. I stripped off my remaining clothes and sat astride of him as he lay on the floor. His cock slid into my easily now, as I no longer tight and dry provided the necessary natural lubricant.

I felt an orgasm begin to rise from deep inside and he moved his fingers to the now engorged clit telling me that I could come in 10. He began to count down and I had to concentrate on the numbers so as not to release too soon.

Finally on the word CUM, I did so, the relief immense and the fluids gushing from me in the usual way. Not yet too old to enjoy sex on a Sunday afternoon and still feeling horny I settled down for a pleasant Sunday evening with my man.

 

365 Questions – Day 37; Torture

If you could do today over, would you change anything?

Maybe I wouldn’t wake up at 4am having a night sweat – the misery of the menopause – then I wouldn’t have struggled to get out of bed this morning. On the other hand, maybe I would change the day from one that I had to work, to one where I was tortured like this………

New Year Sex

This post was written on Monday, for Wicked Wednesday, however, I am currently without WiFi and am also unable open Rebel’s page. So am just posting it as an ordinary blog.

It was icy on Friday morning. Unusually I was working, but wanted to check into my slimming club to make sure that my festive weight gain was kept in check. As I dashed out after weighing in I went flying and landed flat on my back. I picked myself up and, slightly dazed walked a little gingerly to my car. There was no serious damage however, other than to my pride and luckily there weren’t many people around.

By early yesterday morning however, I was experiencing the full after effects – pain and stiffness in my back which while not acute was a little debilitating. In effect I struggled to turn over in bed and when I tried to sit up my tummy and back muscles decided to rebel. I was feeling about 90; what a start to the new year!
Master decided a back rub was in order and so I rolled onto my tummy and he began his work. He has a wonderful way of touching and massaging which is both relaxing and erotic. When you also have seriously knotted up muscles it is like you have gone to heaven. I could have laid there all morning. Suddenly he disappeared, returning with the magic wand. Applying it to my lower back and then gradually moving it around I settled down to enjoy the experience. Gradually my muscles seemed to relax and the aches and pains subsided (not that I had actually tried to move at that point).
Having finished this task he then decided to place the wand in between my legs. At this point I did roll onto my back and opened my legs to accept the wand onto my pubis and as close to my clitoris as I could get it. All discomfort in my back subsided as I felt myself growing wet, juices flowing freely. He counted me down an orgasm and even though he removed the machine before reaching 1 there was no stopping me. He asked what I wanted now, and I said “your cock”. He said that he would really like to take my arse, but felt that would be unkind as it would more than likely hurt. I was sorely tempted to offer it anyway, but knew there would have been little pleasure in it for me. He thrust into me as I lay in the missionary position and I wrapped my legs around him. He talked to me about the control he has over me and of the excitement he feels to be my Master.
I could feel myself creaming in a way that I don’t so often these days – blame the menopause – and for him that was even more of a thrill. He exploded into me soon after. Rather than settle into bed as he often likes to after sex he disappeared downstairs. Reappearing with two glasses of bucks fizz. Clinking glasses we wished each other a happy new year.
New year morning sex, a great start to 2017!

Kneeling in your 50’s

One of the key things a slave does is to kneel to their Master, right? There are numerous, neigh thousands of pictures online showing submission in action; a slave kneeling.

Often He is clothed and she naked. There are specific positions that slave presents herself to her Master in, perhaps with her thighs spread, leaning back onto her heels, her hands rotated to expose the palms or else with her hands behind her head, so that He can see His property.

But what if kneeling in this way is something that you as a slave want to give your Master,  and it is what He wants to receive, but you both know that kneeling in such a way is nigh on impossible for more than a couple of minutes.

There was a time when my body was flexible, pliable and supple. There was a time when my life as a nurse hadn’t caused my back to become stiff and my knees to become sore. There was a time when I was young and slim and when my muscles where taught. Though I have to admit I have never been particularly fit and athletic there was a time when I was slimmer, fitter and more supple than I am now.

But in this new life of Master / slave I crave the ability to kneel. I want to be able to forget that my knees and thighs will ache. I want to be able to pretend my back won’t be stiff. I want to imagine that I can maintain the required position for longer than 2 minutes. But the reality is that kneeling for too long means it is difficult to get up, it means that afterwards I will walk like I am 100 not 54 and it means my back will be sore.

So, realism is the thing.  I can kneel for longer on a cushion than I can on the floor. I can sit at His feet longer than I can kneel. Plus I can sit next to Him and still suck His cock, I can sit next to Him and still submit.

My submission and slavery are not dependent on my ability to kneel for longer than 5 minutes, though I would love to be able to. When you are fifty something realism is something you both get used to. But you can still dream.

From segreti

 

Play thing

It had been a long time. We have a busy social life, like to travel and then there has been all of the work we have been doing on my house. Sometimes even our sex life has taken a back seat, heaven knows that a couple in their 50’s can’t physically fit all of that stuff in and still remain awake and able to walk.

So when I say it had been a long time since there was any kind of kinky play, I really mean it. I would need to look back on this blog to discover exactly when and I know both of us have been missing the release that it gives us. But this last weekend we made a conscious effort to make some time which wasn’t about rushing around town or painting walls. The decorating isn’t finished, but we decided we needed a day off and so as not to be tempted I headed to His place for the weekend just to be sure.
Lunch on Saturday was a relaxing meal of some indulgent Iberico ham, salad and wine. As we cleared away Master told me He needed to trim my hair. That is the hair on my pussy, rather than my head, though I know He would like to get his clippers on that too! We have few rules in our relationship but one is that I grow my bush and that He is in charge of trimming it.

So, with me restrained in a spreader bar, wrists cuffed and blind folded, He set about his work with electric hair clippers. Next He started covering me in various temporary tattoos and then got down to the business of using my body as His play object.
As usual  the order of events is far from clear due to the large number of forced orgasms inflicted upon me (grins!) with His Hitachi wand. But what I do remember are the nipple clamps, the violet wand, the pussy pumping thing and quite a bit of flogging. The full range of attachments on the violet wand were made use of, including those I am less fond of (as mentioned the other day).With each orgasm he made a mark on my tummy, this is useful after the event, since it is so hard to recall and exact number afterwards.

I know He would have had me turn over so He could give me some stripes on my backside, but on Sunday we were going to the cinema to see a long silent film (he is very considerate like that).

At the end of proceedings, He released me from my constraints and instructed me to suck His cock. I can’t tell you how wonderful it was to be able to please Him in that way.

To think I used to think shopping was the best way to spend a Saturday afternoon.

 

Struggling

Kink of the week is about struggling against restraints which had me thinking about this photo taken while we were in Amsterdam a couple of years ago. Master left me hogtied on the bed while he went to have a shower.

Generally when I am restrained during sex or play, rather than struggle I find it relaxes and makes me feel in some way free. I am restrained and so there is no need to fight or to move. The exception is when he is coming towards me with the violet wand in his hand and I can see it (i.e. I am not blind folded) particularly if he is using a light bulb on the end of it. This was a trick he picked up at a workshop at BBB on the one occasion we travelled up to Birmingham for the event. I find the concept of being buzzed by the static from a light bulb immensely scary, though it is erotic when it touches your skin.

But being restrained while you are being tortured is one thing, just being left is something else entirely. On that day I really did struggle against the bonds, much to his amusement. The position was uncomfortable, my head got stuck in the pillow and I wasn’t sure what was coming next. Then I heard the shower and knew I was in for at least a few minutes of being in that position, what was more since he was in the shower, complaining was useless. Mind you of course I did complain, while I struggled and that just made me more uncomfortable.

Master’s response when he emerged from the shower was that when I lay on the bed and allowed him to tie me up, I should have faced the TV and then I could have used that as my distraction! You have to love his humour at times!

Quickie

One of the things Master loves is when I play with Him while He looks at kinky stuff on His phone. On Sunday morning we woke pretty early (for a Sunday), helped along with the extra hours sleep we had enjoyed thanks to the daylight saving, clocks going back thing.

I had woken first and had exhausted my desire to study my own emails and Facebook etc. So while He browsed, I was happy to play. I love the idea of making Him hard. I love the feel of His cock as it hardens, the feel of His balls as they fill. I love the feel of a growing cock.
Suddenly He announced He was going to fill me. In passing He suggested adding to my orgasm count from Friday night.
In the event something different happened. He pushed inside me. I closed my legs tightly around Him.  I felt Him growing even bigger inside me as he pulled out and pushed back in.
Moments later He came. Shooting His seed deep inside.
A very pleasurable and satisfying quickie had just taken place.
Sometimes sex is what you need and what you get.
What we both needed and what we both got. Funny too, since this was the kind of thing that happened all the time with my ex. But this was different, very different and very very good.
How strange it that?

What’s in a name?

Last weekend Master and His girl were chatting about the way they refer to each other. Master asked if she remembered Him calling her by her given name, she couldn’t think of a day when that had happened.

To Him, she is girl or this girl. Often during sex, as previously mentioned she is bitch or cunt. Since she has never been anyone else’s girl or indeed bitch or cunt, she loves this fact.

Early on in the relationship, when it was still D/s, or even before D/s was confirmed for that matter, Master requested that this girl referred to herself as such. At the time it felt like it would be a challenge to comply to His wishes. He said He felt it would help her with her submission and this turned out to be true. By avoiding reference to ‘I’ and thinking and speaking of herself as this girl subtle changes seemed to occur. She started off by using the third person in her blog, writing is often easier than saying something out loud. Over a short time the thinking and writing became second nature so that the girl felt she could easily refer to herself as such to others. Speaking to Master too, it became ever easier to call herself this girl.

Roll forward almost two years and this girl isn’t always perfect at remembering not to use the work ‘I’ during normal conversation and Master doesn’t always insist on it. However it is still a requirement and most of the time it is second nature. He is Master and this girl is just that. What is more He is her Master and she is His girl.