Fucked on a picnic table

This story is loosely based on fact. I really was fucked on a picnic table in the woods while wearing a leather collar and leash. But the rest of it is part of my fantasy of what might have happened that day. Content warning: Consent Non-consent (CNC), Humiliation.

I am kneeling on the seat of a picnic table. My dress is pulled up to my waist and I am exposing my bottom.
A throwback picture not linked to the original event

A story of being fucked on a picnic table

If ever you go into the woods and stumble across a picnic table, do you wonder who was there before you? What might have happened here? And before you sit down and unwrap the sandwiches you might want to get out the wet wipes, because maybe the last people here fucked on that picnic table.

We met in the car park. As instructed I was wearing a summer dress, sensible shoes and nothing else. Although it was only around 10am the sun was high in the sky and it was warm. In those days I was yet to acquire a car with air conditioning, the open windows did nothing to cool my throbbing cunt. Anticipation rather than heat was at work here. You see, I had no idea what was in store for me. The man I was meeting was very keen on fantasy games and I was his willing victim.

I travelled light, apart from the lack of clothing I only carried a small bag, containing my purse and other essentials. Stuff you don’t really need in the woods (my phone maybe, but signals were poor). He carried a largish rucksack, containing lunch and who knew what else. Not me at that point anyway. He took my bag and put it inside his.

Of course he felt me up in the car park, in front of anyone who happened by, though I can’t remember if any one did. We hadn’t seen each other for a few weeks and we had the hots for each other. I might have fucked there and then if he had requested it. He put a leather collar around my neck and attached a leash, there in the middle of the car park. Then he walked me into the dense woodland and once inside, blindfolded me.

Completely dependent on him I followed his instructions about where to step. Periodically the leash would pull tight and I’d almost stumble. But as instructed I was silent. Concentrating on the sounds and smells of the forest. I had no idea if others were around us and was both humiliated and excited at this sign of my submission. I lingered on the edge of orgasm, made worse as my cunt leaked fluid that caused my thighs to slide together as I walked. I momentarily wondered if I would be permitted an orgasm today.

Suddenly he told me to drop to my knees, as I did so the collar pulled tight against my neck. I assumed the required pose, my knees wide, hands resting loosely on them. I heard some rustling and knew what was in store. Obediently I opened my mouth to take the cock that was thrust into it. I savoured the saltiness of his pre-cum and the very size of what filled my mouth.

“Good cunt” he groaned at me. I concentrated on sucking, my mouth wide and drool already running down my chin. His fingers reached inside my summer dress and pinched my left nipple. “take me girl, take this cock” He said as I felt a sharp pain, a clamp now pinched my breast. I groaned around the huge dick filling my mouth and tensed as pain throbbed through both breasts. For a while I was lost giving him the pleasure he demanded.

He pulled away and pulled me to my feet. His fingers groping for my clit, large and engorged, before pushing two into my dripping cunt. “you are such a wanton slut aren’t you” he asked. I nodded, because it was true. I was and am. “what do you want slut?” he asked. “speak”.

“Your cock Sir”

“Come” he gently pulled on the leash and I followed. My knees knocked into something hard and putting my hands out I felt wood. I ran my hands over the grain. “It’s a picnic table” I could hear him grinning. “We can have lunch here, but first, I’m going to fuck you on it.

Sir Helped me kneel on the seat and then to lean over it. He secured rope around my wrists and tied me to the table. I was now unable to move, though had no desire to do so. I felt his cock pushing into my soaking cunt as I lay secured to the table top. My knees were grazed a little by the wood. My nipples, with the clamps still attached sending ripples of pain through my body. He took his pleasure from me. A wanton slut, blindfolded and collared. Unaware that behind her there were 3 men watching and wanking.

Because as well as taking care about the cleanliness of a picnic table, you should also beware of mentioning your fantasies. Such as the one about being fucked in the woods while others watch.

To be continued!

With the benefit of hindsight

You know, hindsight is a wonderful thing. If we could see our future selves we would probably do many things differently. Make decisions that didn’t take us down a fateful path. Or maybe we would. Perhaps that is what human nature is all about; learning by our mistakes.

I suggested the prompt regrets / benefit of hindsight when preparing to write this post. I’m not linking to the stuff about my ex, but it is contained here in this blog. In the early years of writing here I poured my heart out. Since I couldn’t tell anyone in real life about most of it, this was my haven. A nonjudgmental place to be myself. I received support from strangers along the way and found my way to the place I needed to be.

My ex and I are about to finally be divorced and I’m sure no one ever ended their marriage without some level of regret. We were married for over 30 years and I loved him. I will never regret that part of my life but with the benefit of hindsight I know I should have got out sooner. However there are reasons not to regret my decisions.

S

The things that have happened to me since just before my 50th birthday have been amazing. I was sexually repressed and my knowledge came from books and the internet. Since then, my learning curve has been steep and experiences varied. Master always says that he is glad that S got me ready for him. And, it is true he did. S helped me learn about my sexual needs and how to enjoy sex. He also brought out my submissive side, even if it scared the hell out of him. I took a massive risk the day I headed off to a hotel to meet S, but it turned out well and directly led to me meeting Master.

Master

The time was right for us both. He was in another relationship, but in hindsight that was on its last legs. I needed a push to move on both from S and my ex. We came together at the right time and helped each other through the emotions that ensued. He asked me to be his slave just when I had decided that was what I wanted.

Sex with Master is the best I’ve had. He is the most considerate love I have had and always puts my needs first.

I believe that things happen for a reason. We met when the time was right and for that reason I don’t regret staying in my marriage when I should have got the hell out.

Self control

In so many ways I am good at exercising self control. I’m good at lists and planning and sometimes I can even stick to the plan. I don’t get easily annoyed, well not these days because it feels less necessary. I can also stick to a diet plan, avoid sweet things and alcohol until I just can’t. My self control is not infinite and at some point I will blow. My planning is not so good that I have stopped procrastinating. I guess though it’s part of being human.

Plan but don’t do

Now that I’m not working (most of the time) the days have little structure. Unless I create it. Using my planner helps especially if I decide I’ll write a blog post as 12, practice my French on Duolingo at 2 and then go to the shops etc. But often I’ll write a list of things to do and then transfer them to tomorrow’s plan. I’m good at spending time doing very little. But if I know there’s a deadline then I can exercise the necessary self control to get them done.

I’d tell you that this is new, but my to do lists at work were treated the same way. Items were often transferred and then I’d be chasing a deadline. I kind of need that to get my adrenaline flowing. But I am worse now, so at least once a week I make myself go into my little office, sit at my desk and produce the things listed in my planner. Tomorrow will be one of those days.

People and things irritate me

Not everyone and everything, though sometimes that is the case. I get less irritated these days. Partly because I don’t have to go to meetings and sit in rooms with people who state the obvious. Or who haven’t done what they said they’d do. Nor do I live with a man who lies to me and uses emotional blackmail to get me to do what he wants. Thankfully I extracted myself from that situation. But also I no longer allow myself to let people wind me up in the way I did. I walk away rather than confront. I also say no when I always said yes.

Age is of great benefit in being able to sort what is important from what is not. People upset you without knowing and even if they do know then how we deal with them is important. Retaliation is satisfying in the moment, but the feelings don’t last. So, maybe just walk away. This is important with social media because there are just too many people out there looking for a fight.

Control of what goes into my mouth

I have very publicly stated on here that I am in the process of losing weight. It’s been a goal for years, but I haven’t actually achieved it. However knowing I want to get my cleavage back in place is now the driver. I need a healthier BMI for surgery and so I am losing weight. Most days I exercise very good self control. The food and drink going into my mouth is healthy, light on carbs and doesn’t contain sugar. But there are days and Friday was one of them that I decide to have wine with lunch and then seem unable to control myself. Thankfully those days are fewer and the weight is gradually coming off. At least I have insight and so am able to make changes. Also I know that life would be very dull if I exercised that level of self control all the time.

The photo below was taken late on Friday night. We had both been middle aged adults behaving badly all day. We’d had too much to drink but no one was harmed and at the end we had a few nice photos for February Photofest and Sinful Sunday. What I’m saying is some good can come from letting your hair down once in a while and letting the control drift away. So long as you pick it up again the next day.

Late night pursuits

Anticipation

He has prepared her carefully. Securing her across the chest and legs. She is blindfolded, but for now her hands and arms are left free. Her legs are secured in an open position and from the back he can see her pink cunt through the gap in her legs. She waits in anticipation not knowing what he will do next.

The plastic of the bench is cold on her body and the position he had put her in not all together comfortable. Music blares out from the sound system, a slow sexy Barry White number. She tries not to think back to the last time she heard the track, tries instead to clear her mind. He is moving around in the background choosing his instruments of torture. She hears him approach. He is still dressed and wearing shoes. She of course is completely naked.

His choice is a soft rubber flogger and first he rests it on her back and moves it gently across her shoulders, then down over her buttocks. Then the first impact. It is a deceivingly stingy piece of equipment, she winces and he smiles. Though of course she can’t see that. After 20 strokes he replaces this flogger for another, made of rubber and then later with one formed of plastic though it looks like barbed wire. This latter flogger makes her cry out, a mixture of pain and pleasure. Next she feels his fingers touching her cunt and is not surprised when he exclaims that she is very wet. Her clit responds to his touch and then she hears the buzz of the wand. Yes please she thinks.

Sure enough the sound becomes a real vibration on her cunt, she pushes her bottom towards him. The head of the vibrator touches her clitoris full on and it is as much as she can do to hold back.

“Not yet” he tells her turning the thing off.

The anticipation continues but so does the pleasure. They’ve only just begun.

Opposites Attract (or should you fuck a tory?)

MoteOo (pixabay.com)

In some ways that is true about us. Not in terms of kink, we seem to be aligned there. But upbringing, education and politics. There are some huge differences. This conversation with GOTN yesterday has led me here to this post. But actually I’ve thought about writing it for some time. That’s because a lot of fellow sex bloggers approach their lives from a similar liberal world view. One that I also possess. But I often keep quiet because Master usually has some kind of opposite view. People say, for example they would never fuck a Tory or someone who voted for Brexit. But actually it is possible to have sex and cohabit with someone who is and did those things. I wonder if I should have included a content warning on this post?

Roots

I come from a socialist supporting family, though both my brothers have moved away from that philosophy. My maternal ancestors were mining families from the North East of England. My dad was an electrician and I became a nurse through an apprenticeship type training. Since then I’ve gained 2 degrees and been a health service manager but I believe in socialist values and I’d also prefer we remained part of the EU. The original reason for this was a selfish one. I have a home in France and don’t want complications. But as time has gone on I haven’t been able to work out what will be better when the UK leave.

He went to a private school, on a scholarship and his father was a banker. Master is Oxford educated and was an accountant. He votes Conservative and believes in Brexit. Or did when he voted for it. He doesn’t take anything at face value and reads vociferously. When he voted for Brexit it was because he believes that the EU is corrupt and badly run. That view hasn’t changed, but the complete political mess that ensued after the vote created more common ground than we expected.

Arguments

I was never someone who would finish with someone because of their political beliefs. Unless they wanted to make me change mine, and that clearly hasn’t happened. We certainly don’t discuss politics in bed or in the practice of our BDSM art form. But that isn’t to say we haven’t discussed the two thorny issues of crap tory policies making the country less pleasant to live in and Brexit. We have also had our fair share of arguments, as you might expect.

My husband found it difficult to establish an opinion much less express one. He tended to regurgitate mine. So, actually having someone to argue the state of the country with is a good thing. I’ve also become less volatile in my reactions over the years, it must be age.

But we do argue. Not often and to be honest I struggle to maintain my side to the bitter end (to my own frustration). The trouble is Master often has much more knowledge on a topic than I do. Unless it is about health and health politics and then I can hold my ground. What’s more I tend to lose interest or wrap myself up in knots. His debating skills are just better than mine. Then there is the issue that I’ll never change his mind just like he won’t mine. So, what’s the point.

As I mentioned above though it has been the politicians of the UK and indeed world that have helped us along. There has been no doubt this country has been badly run for the last few years. There is also little doubt that Jeremy Corbyn was never going to be accepted as a prospective prime minister. Even though he has been a better leader than I’d imagined he would be. Brexit has been a shambles and in all likely hood will remain so. We therefore have agreement even if we come at it from opposite views.

Drink

My only caveat is that we must never have political discussions in a pub or even at home while drinking. Over the years that has caused some momentous rows, usually involving me getting so angry that I storm off somewhere. Plus, I’m less articulate when drunk and he tends to forget what he said by morning. So it’s a case of don’t go there. The only upside is that it usually involves some very hot make up sex. But to be honest it would be better to just have the sex and leave out the argument and hangover.

My advice

If you find yourself romantically linked with someone of an apposing political view don’t run away, it might be fine. If you fancy them like crazy and you find that they don’t want to talk about how wonderful Boris is while in bed. Also check they are capable of behaving themselves in public. That they won’t lecture your friends and family and keep their apposing views to more private encounters.

So, if you fancy a tory, don’t be frightened to snog them, or even have sex with them. They might just turn out to be the love of your life.

Thoughts on intimacy

While reading this post by May yesterday it struck me that there was a time when I hated intimacy. The reasons for these feelings differ between us, experiences in childhood and young adulthood are important. Being cheated on so early in my marriage had a profound affect on me. Over time, I learned to bury the hurt and pain, to bury my feelings. I guess I came across as cold and unresponsive. He told me I was frigid, so I know that was the case.

Sex during my marriage

Was perfunctory and was often just sex. I’ve said before that he was a man who could complete foreplay and PIV sex in during a commercial break. But to be fair to him, I was often ok with that. I’d hang around in the bedroom for a while and bang out an orgasm. Or else wait till he was asleep and find my rabbit. I actually didn’t want him to be intimate with me, to stroke and touch.

It’s strange, because we didn’t have full sex for quite a time after we met. But there was a lot of intimacy – a lot of foreplay (without the sex), we always sat close together and touched and kissed a lot. And then gradually that didn’t happen any more, but the catalyst for that was his affair. Don’t get me wrong we had our moments, but I think alcohol played quite a part in getting me to relax my guard.

Meeting S

This was a pretty transactional relationship looking back. I was his bedroom submissive, I dressed up and got off on some humiliation and degradation. In return we had some very good sex and through that I discovered I was in no way frigid. The play and the sex were fairly unemotional. But there was a lot of intimacy before and after. My husband rarely cooked a meal and being presented with breakfast after an early start and long drive was amazing. Picnics in bed were also a fun and intimate thing. But also there was aftercare of the physical kind – stroking, kissing and just generally being.

But then it was time to leave and I often didn’t hear from him for days or even weeks. To begin with that hurt, but over time I accepted that it wasn’t a love affair and took from it what I needed.

The intimacy of us

This relationship, with Master gives me everything I didn’t realise I needed until I had it. I’ve written before about the importance of touch between us. The intimacy is just there. If my husband came up to me and put his hands on my waist, then grabbed a tit I’d swat him away. Because there was a motive. With Master, there could be motive, but in general he is touching me because he desires me and just wants to touch me.

The stroking and holding takes place before during and after sex. During play he is constantly seeking to check I am ok and to let me know that he desires me. He also wants to know that I am aroused by the things he is doing.

As mentioned in the post – The touch of our hands – he didn’t always enjoy being touched. Now though he actively seeks my hands on his body. We approach each other regularly and just kiss gently on the lips. We don’t always hold hands when out, but sometimes, often late at night we do and it feels just right.

In many ways I feel I’ve come full circle. That I didn’t actually know what I needed till I didn’t have it. Didn’t know what to expect or to ask for. But, you know what? It’s never to late to find out what you need and perhaps to get it.

Click below for the thoughts of others on the topic of intimacy

Click below to see who else is participating in January Jumpstart.

Mindset

Our dynamic is about power, control and mind games. I say games, because to begin with it feels like it. Where someone is seeking to get you to conform to their way of thinking, to make you behave in certain ways and to develop a mindset. For me the mindset of a submissive, of a slave. Looking back this was always a conscious thing on both sides.

Before I met Master, there had been a few times when I had found myself in a submissive space, usually after an intense sex session. I also knew I responded well to instructions, In the right context. In that relationship, (2012 to the end of 2013), we used certain rituals to create the right mindset. Wearing certain clothes (and underwear) and shoes. Kneeling for him as soon as I arrived. So, while I wasn’t someone who usually liked to be told what to do, I found myself embracing his dominance.

A submissive mindset

With Master though it was different. From the very beginning his approach was psychological. Our physical attraction to each other came through our conversations about Dominance and submission. He says he felt my submission almost before he laid a finger on me. It was almost like he had a power over me. Our first date was in February, it was wet and cold and we strolled into a disused church. By the time he touched my bottom and pressed his erection against my cunt I’d have gladly taken my jeans down there and then. For me, sexual arousal and submissive mindset are clearly linked. I had brought that knowledge from the previous relationship and found it to be true here. A couple of weeks later I discovered how powerful BDSM play could be in sending me into subspace.

A name

Within days I was referring to myself in the third person while we were together and soon here on my blog too. To him I was and remain this girl, His pleasing bitch. The latter took a little longer to form but to this day, Master rarely refers to me as Julie, except to others.

I wouldn’t claim to remain in some submissive mindset all of the time. Once, I probably did most of the time we spent together. But now of course we live together and have regular stuff to do. But when we have sex, when we play or when the mood takes him a few words are uttered and I am back in that place. Back being this girl, slut, slave and his bitch. What’s more the names aren’t just used when in bed and so he has the power to pull me up short just by calling me this girl. And not only when we are alone, at home.

The right mindset

But having said that, there are times when it doesn’t work. When it takes effort on both our parts to create the right feeling. This was more of a thing when I was working, on Friday nights I needed a bit more persuasion (and alcohol) to get into the mood. Another challenge can be my mum who definitely gets me into a mood very easily.

I’ve mentioned recently about changes to my orgasms, that I don’t feel the need for so many and that they can’t always be forced. This can be challenging since multiple orgasms definitely put me into a submissive space. And if you can’t force one out there won’t be lots. But true to form Master is finding ways around my resistant body, which can’t help but respond to strong vibrations.

A successful Dominant / submissive relationship requires brining together physical actions with the right mindset and making those two things happen at the same time can take a bit of effort. However it does make for an interesting life and is rarely dull.

tellmeabout

Bedroom talk

He has a great way with words. I guess it is all the reading he does, plus his linguistics education. He tends to tell me what he thinks about my body and our sex life in English, but could easily do it in French or Spanish. Our bedroom is a fun place to be of a Sunday morning.

“I wanted to have sex with you the first time I met you” He told me, not for the first time. Looking back to the beginning is something he loves to do. “I felt your tits though” Indeed he did. Plus he pressed his hard cock against me when we kissed. It’s no wonder I was round his house the following afternoon. Though we didn’t have sex until the week after as he played with me instead.

He starts to suck my nipple. “what are you doing?” I ask “Just noshing down on your tit” comes the reply between sucks. I lie there thinking how middle class public school that sounds. He speaks well: upbringing, education. Not estuary like me! I love it when he swears or says dirty stuff, it sounds fabulous coming from his posh mouth.

“I’ve had more sex with you than anyone else”.

“Well we’ve had a lot of sex”, I reply. That is very true and I’ve had more sex with him than anyone else.

“You’re a better fuck than C” (a former sex worker he used to see and who is now a great friend of ours). This also pleases me greatly, perhaps I am pretty good at sex.

“Don’t tell her” I say.

“I might” he responds and we both laugh.

Anyway, in the past he has told me that I am the best fuck he has ever had. I believe him since he doesn’t have to say stuff like that.

“You’re mine” he says just before he goes down on my cunt.

“I’m definitely yours and no one else” I say. But also think, ‘and you are mine’.

Then we fuck and there’s little to say for a while. I do love Sunday morning in our house.

Masturbation Monday

Submissive training – is it necessary?

This prompt for Tell Me About has had me thinking for a few days. It is common to see information about ‘training your submissive’ in BDSM manuals and guides. Submissive training is also a big thing in fiction, for example the Brie series by Red Phoenix which is set in a training centre for submissive females. I can’t deny that I found the books extremely hot when I read them a few years ago. But is submissive training actually necessary for someone in a D/s or M/s relationship? And if so, what might it comprise of?

Submissive – born or made?

I don’t think you can train someone to actually be a submissive as such. It is something that comes from within, almost a need. However I do think there are elements of submission that take time to emerge. Reading about different types of relationship and considering what you as a submissive might want from them is useful. Understanding the elements of BDSM and what you, as a submissive want to find out more about, or try. Each dominant will have their own way of doing things and have ideas about how they wish the relationship to play out. Whether this takes the form of training, conditioning or something else is debatable.

Training vs education and learning

In a previous life I was education lead for a group of public sector organisations. I organised learning and development courses, bought places on university courses and was in charge of mandatory training. I hated the word training, though was forced to use it. That’s because without an element of educational learning behaviour can’t change. Maybe you can train a dog to fetch something, but we don’t generally do that with humans.

Learning new skills, understanding about consent and safety, finding someone in real life to help mentor as well as reading fiction and factual accounts of a dominant submissive lifestyle seems a good approach. I guess some dominants may train their submissives as they would a dog but I’m not sure that is a good approach. Even teaching positions, kneeling or preparation for anal sex should be about more than just practical training. Knowledge of your own body, elements of safety and learning from others is vital.

How did I learn to be the slave I am today?

Back at the beginning I found all I could about submission and BDSM in general through the internet. I joined forums and information sites and followed links to blogs. Then I read erotic novels and bought a couple of ‘how to’ books written by those with experience of the lifestyle. But it wasn’t until I got together with S that I began to understand what might be involved in a D/s relationship. Unfortunately that was when I realised I had a romantic view of being a submissive. However on the plus side I also discovered that I enjoyed pain, humiliation and degradation. By the end of that relationship, I had a better knowledge of what I wanted.

When I first met Master I was under the impression that I knew everything there was to know about being a submissive. But Master is a different kind of Dominant to S (as you’d expect). So I had to begin to learn how to be Master’s submissive. Bed room and play room stuff is easy in comparison to learning what they want from you as a person. It has been elements of my behaviour that have changed. This hasn’t happened through training but through reflection and communication. What’s more, we have learned together how to be each others Master and slave. And from that has come trust.

Reading and blogging as a learning tool

Writing about our experiences is a great way to reflect and learn. Especially through interaction with each other and some level of challenge. Master has always read this blog and continues to read current and past posts. Journaling is also useful, so long as there is an effort to think and review what has been written.

Many people find this blog through searching for submissive / slave relationships. So maybe I’m doing my bit in helping to educate a new generation of dominants and submissives. Or maybe it is just a way of getting off on some sexy writing. Who knows?

I for one love to read other D/s related blogs. All relationships are different and there is no one way of being a dominant or submissive. But it is great to learn and to reflect on those differences. Plus it gives us things to talk about when the Safeword D/s club meets online.

tellmeabout

Faking orgasm

Kitagawa Utamaro (Japanese, ca. 1754–1806)

I’m pleased to say that I suggested this week’s Food for Thought prompt. A few weeks ago I read survey conducted by Kinkly.com on Faking Orgasms. The writers there had read a couple of other smaller surveys and conducted one of their own. 1232 people of different ages, gender and sexual orientation. What interested me was the headline that 80% of respondents had faked orgasms at least once in their life. Not surprisingly (well to me anyway) women fake it more than men. Reasons for faking included: wanting the encounter to end, wanting the other person to feel good and not wanting the other person to feel bad. There’s loads more to read from the survey – see the link above.

But, what is my experience?

Have I faked it and why?

I’m sorry to say only too often. Not recently but with my husband. I could count on one hand the number of times he made me come. Mainly this was because he didn’t take the time to learn about my body. We were young when we met, both virgins. I didn’t really know what a female orgasm was, let alone what it felt like. It was years before I realised how much pleasure there was to be had from touching and being touched.

For years sex was about him. Once he had come, the encounter was over. Foreplay was a bit of breast and cunt groping. I think I’ve written here before that this was a man who could fit in PIV sex during a TV commercial break.

I bought myself toys and he found or saw them. So wanted us to play with them and after that felt I ought to come too (I am simplifying things a little here)! So, given that having an orgasm took time, that his fingers weren’t as good as my toys and that I rarely came from vaginal sex, I faked it.

Me faking it made him feel good but it made me feel bad. I’d often come later after he was asleep. Some relationship history can be read here

Do I fake it now?

No because I have no need. Orgasms in this relationship are a gift and are offered frequently. Master is a man who has learned about my body and who who loves to see me come. He also owns the orgasms and by doing so has taken the pressure away from me. They are no longer something I have to do alone. Nor are they something I crave, but never get. Instead he forces them from me, sometimes many times in one session.

From early in our relationship Master conditioned me to come on demand. By touching me and counting down then telling me to come. Over time I was able to come almost without him touching me. But always those orgasms are his, arrive when permission is granted and always I thank him afterwards.

I can hand on heart say I have never faked an orgasm with Master.

Recent troubles

Whether it is being post menopausal. Or because of the hormone inhibitors I take, my orgasms have dried up a little recently. In that I seem less able to come on demand. But rather than pretend, I tell him that I can’t or haven’t come yet. That I can do this is down to the trust between us and because I know he understands.

So we have taken to using our magic wand vibrator more and this has reignited my orgasms in a powerful way. When one of those arrives, there is no faking!

F4Thought