The New Guy, part 2

Now what, indeed?

Atlas and I had a conversation about our expectations.  We both admitted to knowing the rules, not exceeding or breaking them.  We both knew how the game was played.  We weren't going to get caught up.  I didn't want to fall in love, he wasn't available. My world was too precariously balanced to have someone akin to Loki wreaking havoc.  He leaves for Asia in the fall.  It seemed that we understood each other perfectly.  We would have no strings attached fun with each other, that seemed reasonable.

When adding a new lover to the roster, I'm usually very open and honest with Satan.  I know he doesn't like talking about it, doesn't particularly like knowing that I've taken pleasure with another man besides him.  But he is practical enough to understand that waiting on him to be available these days is like waiting for a tax refund.  Agonizing.  My going catch-phrase; "What's good for the goose is good for the gander", are words that make him roll his eyes and say "Whateva".  But the truth remains that after our reunion last year, I made it clear that I was not going to sit on a shelf and wait for him.  I'd see him when I see him, but not let anyone touch my heart.  Somehow, I knew Atlas was different.  I haven't told Satan about him.  I don't want to have that discussion until I have to.  Satan senses it, he's just that intuitive.  He senses my distraction, and I find him calling and texting me to ask where I am, what am I doing.

So where am I and what am I doing?  The answer is I have no idea. 

Atlas and I made plans to meet for a day to have relaxed time together.  Time to ask silly questions to get to know each other.  Time to play with each other without interruption or an audience.  Time to just.....chill.  I found myself extremely nervous the day before, fussing over my clothes and my choice of toenail color.  I was taking extra care with my grooming, even working on my legendary crusty feet to tame them down to simply dry instead of lethal.  Texting him during this furor, I told him it was way easier when I didn't give a shit what he thought.  Yet somehow, I did care what he thought.  I needed to make a good impression so that he liked what he saw.  I felt shy, and a bit discombobulated, and all I knew was that I had to be.....amazing. It was incredibly girly, and as anyone who knows me will say, I hate girly moments with a passion.

After seeing to my errands and finally getting on the road, I received a call from Jachin.  He wanted to know where I was going, who I was seeing, and how long I expected to be out.  I told him I wasn't worried, and he commented "Of course you're not, that's my job".  He was unhappy I was meeting "strange men" and told me I should never go out without telling someone where to find me.  I met him at the rest stop, he gave me money for tolls, I told him where I'd be, and I was off again.  Another conundrum for a different day.

The rain slowed my progress, and I arrived after Atlas did.  I had been so nervous in the morning that I wasn't feeling good, and my stomach was in a knot for most of the drive.  I was concerned that my stomach ache might translate into some unpleasantness, so I didn't eat, I just drank some Crystal Light.  He texted me the room number, and I parked next to him.  I took a moment to just breathe.......

I knocked, he answered...and promptly slammed the door on me.  LOL, ahh it was going to be that kind of day. With his humor, he disarmed me and put me at instant ease.  I brought my bags in, and as I watched him work on his laptop, knowing he had a business call in a few, I took out my laptop and prepared to amuse myself while he worked.  We chatted a bit, and we laughed.  Of all the memories I will carry about him in my life, it will be how much we laughed.  I slyly looked at him over my computer screen.  I find him so beautiful.  His body is in amazing shape, and he has eyes that really look at you when you talk to him.  I can't imagine any woman NOT finding him crazy hot.  I have also found that he is a man that does not say things he doesn't mean.  So far, I find that he says what he means, and means what he says.  He doesn't grandstand, doesn't need to talk endlessly just to hear himself.  He is a careful listener, and he is even more careful at replying, knowing his feedback may not always be rosebuds and unicorns, as he is at heart, a realist.

He climbed onto the bed with me, in a side 69 position, my back to his front, and he stroked his hands up my legs, under my dress, to a pantyless me, which he had requested. His hands, gentle and soft, finding spots front and back that had me panting.  He got to stroking me in earnest and I came for him, almost as though his quiet confidence had simply commanded it without words, and it came into being.  I came and squirted, and he got naked too.  He just stopped playing, it was time for his business call.  I lay at the end of the bed crosswise, while he lounged against the pillows, naked.  As he entered his conference call, I looked at him, looked at his cock, and did the chin up inquiry move. He silently shrugged as if to say, why not?  So I promptly moved between his legs and sucked his cock.

His skin is so velvety smooth, we joke that he feels like kitten paws.  I so love feeling him grow in my mouth, and feeling his gentle yet insistent hand on my head encouraging me to press my lips against his body while his cock goes down my throat and I swallow him.  It excited me to do these things to him while he was conducting business.  And my beast rose with every intention of shattering his self control, except we failed, as he is an incredible challenge to ruffle.  Earpiece intact, he swung himself behind me and fucked me until I squirted on his cock.  Not being able to be vocal during sex is challenging for me, and it heightened the pleasure to an almost painful degree.    He must have sat back and watched me trying to stifle my noise, chuckling, and I heard him say, "Oh, I hung up my call a bit ago, you can make noise now."  BASTARD!!!

Going into detail about the rest of the afternoon seems redundant.  It was a beautiful dream, laced with passionate kisses, ecstasy, and lots and lots of my body fluid.  I lost track of the number of times that I came, just enjoying each small eruption of pleasure as it's own fantastic gift.  I realized that i couldn't do this with him on a regular basis and remain casual. I told him so in an effort to be honest.  He inspired an intensity in me that was difficult to ignore.  It felt like it welled up in my core, and wanted to spew out of my mouth in the form of pretty words and promises. I would not be the conqueror, as I had insinuated in emails to him...I would be the conquered.

He moves me in ways I haven't thought about in a long time.  He makes me feel a little less lonely inside. He makes me want to see what he does during his days, how he walks through the door, how he organizes his kitchen.  He makes me think of long lazy days off spent lounging in bed. He makes me think about walks along the shore talking about everything.  He reeks of the word companion, not simply fuck buddy.  He makes me realize, in the grand scheme of things that I have something I hadn't believed in for a long time....options.

It's been a few days now.  The intensity has started to dissipate, and life in it's routine has re-intruded on my fantasy.  I still text him daily, and am still wondering what the hell happened.  He's made some statements to me that make me wonder what he's about and what it is that he actually wants, and I realize I've spent so much time listening to the double speak of Satan and Jachin that I no longer know how to take someone at their word without copious positive reinforcement about said statements.  I wonder about the men in my life, how I love them, what their role in my life really is. I've been thinking about what I really want, from everyone.

I treasure and value being excited by a man like this again.  It has ignited a fire in me that has been dormant for a long time.  Though I love all the men that play a role in my life, I have worked diligently to kill the penchant for expectation.  If I don't expect anything, ever, I will never be disappointed.  Ergo, I gave up the fire to wish for more.  Perhaps the biggest turn on this man presents to me is that I don't merely look upon him as a tool.  He is more in the great grand scheme than just a guy looking to get his rocks off with little regard to how he does it.  He's discerning, he's picky, he's artful.  And here's the clincher...I'll say it.  He makes me feel like I'm enough to satisfy him.  True or not, I'll think of him fondly for a long time for making me feel that again.  Sharing is fine, but once in a while, it just feels good to be enough for someone.  And I thank him for reminding me that I have the right to expect it, should I choose to.

Where am I and what am I doing?

I still haven't figured it out, and I'm not going to try right now.  I prefer to take the ride and see how the road goes.  Hopefully I'll enjoy the journey, and remember a few more things about who I am and what I have a right to want.

Change, part 2

The thing with finally talking to someone you've shut out of your life for awhile is that all that angst, all the rage, all the worry and sadness have an outlet.  They get channeled to the person on the other end of the conversation and suddenly two people who were raging at each other, who were nose to nose figuratively speaking, are suddenly tired.  Exhausted.  And curious.

So Satan and I had conversations.  He letting out his vitriol in emails, me letting the pounding surf of his anger crash against me until he was just done.  And then, in my quiet way, I raged back until I couldn't rage anymore.  Slowly, so slowly....those conversations stopped being about us hating, and started being about us just talking.  We'd have careful talks about our lives, friends, family, and how we were.  Careful talks that never said anything meaningful, and never talked about sex.  Boring talks.  Talks about how he was going to leave Maine and move to Boston.

One day out and about in Portland, I decided I couldn't let him leave the state without having the courage to say goodbye.  I had to pee like the dickens, and though I could have stopped anywhere, I called him and asked if I could use his bathroom.  He said yes, that he was packing, and that I was welcome.  I went, and seeing him in person was like a physical blow to the gut.  So beautiful, and so untouchable now.  We sat in his room as he folded and packed his pants, and sneakers.  And we talked about things I can't even remember now.  I stayed a bit, but had to get home for my daughter.  I let him know I had to scoot, and he walked me down to the door.  I remember turning back and trying to say...something, but failing to find the words.  He let me off the hook then, and just moved in, held my face in both his hands, and kissed me softly.  My eyes watered, and fat tears slid down my cheeks knowing he was leaving, and I bolted.

Seeing him, smelling him on every level that a mate scents her male was vicious.  My beast, which had been roaring already, went ballistic.  It was a physical pain inside me screaming for release.  Like a shape shifter that can't actually change to let her beast out, so mine was clawing against my innards.  I hosted a party and played with a boatload of men, each one merely ramping up my need to release another notch, and nothing coming even CLOSE to the level of release that I needed.  Every orgasm I gave myself just made me more frustrated.  Nothing, it seemed, could calm the beast.

Jachin and I, during this time, had resumed sexual relations.  His growing concern for my inability to feed my beast led him to volunteer his services in attempting to fill the role.  Scared he wouldn't last, he took a pill, or two.  He fucked me until he came like a rutting beast, and then continued to try and fuck me with his hand.  But his heart, literally, couldn't take it and we had to stop and attend to him.  Realizing that The Beast was going to kill someone should I not adequately attend to her, I kept trying.  A few days later, after being teased by my pet endlessly that morning, I laid in my bed and tried to masturbate.  Jachin came by and sat in the bed with me trying to help.  I came, hard, but I could feel the tight coil inside knowing it hadn't been satisfied at all....it had merely gone up another notch.  Jachin tried to help me rub another one out, and I busted out crying, begging him not to touch me because it just got worse and worse.  Jachin, worried for real now, did the only thing he could think of.  He called Satan.

Keep in mind that since things ended badly between Satan and Jachin with the roommate situation, Jachin absolutely HATES Satan.  He has said that if he saw Satan on the side of the road riding his bike while he was driving, that he would swerve just enough to pick him off. Yet he was moved enough by his concern for me to call the one person he thought could solve the problem, regardless of the fact that it made him want to puke acid through the phone.  They made arrangements to bring Satan up to Maine that weekend, mid-May.

My pet drove down to pick up Satan.  He left around 11 in the morning, and I saw them drive in around 8:30 that night.  I was so pissed at the time warp it took to get from Massachusetts to Maine that I slammed my bedroom door in Satan's face.  He was in high spirits though, and wouldn't be deterred.  I felt as skittish as a colt, not knowing where to look, heart beating in palpitations, mouth open to breathe because I felt breathless.  He had that look in his eye, that his prey was target marked and locked.  He came to me and enveloped me in his massive hug, his lips descending to mine, not letting my nervousness make me bolt, or turn me into a shrew.  He took my hand and led me upstairs, to the spare bedroom we'd be using for the night.

He laid me on the bedroll on the floor, opened my thighs and settled his mouth on my quim.  And I could breathe again because my mate was home.  He licked my cream, lapped at me like I was nectar and sweet syrup. And he made these satisfied beast noises, grunts, and sighs, and small growls.  His hands roamed my body, clutching my thighs in a death grip, then gripping my tummy, holding my breasts.  He loves my rolls, loves to hold and squeeze them, sink his fingertips into my fluffiness.  He pushed me over my first small orgasm, and the coil unraveled, not to let me off the hook, but to perform as my master expects...with frenzy and abandon.

He climbed back up my body like the predator he is, lifted my legs up and back, and pressed his cock into my hole.  Slow, steady pressure moving all that dick inside me.  It was tight, it was beautiful, and my pussy contracted all around him.  He didn't stop pressing inward until the head of his cock had bumped my cervix.  Then he withdrew and slammed it home.  Again.  Again.  Again.....over and over until he triggered my spot, made the rain squirt out of my body.  It was so intense, that it overwhelmed me emotionally and all the rage I had carefully tucked away from him erupted.  I pummeled his chest repeatedly, screaming my hate out, releasing my anger and disappointment and hurling it at his body, which never missed a beat in fucking me to another orgasm.  Tired of being punched and hit, he grabbed my fists and lifted them over my head kissing my lips and sucking my neck while he continued that shattering rhythm.

Flipping me over to my knees, he opened up my ass for his pleasure.  He still had a hold of my hands, holding my wrists behind me while he fucked my ass and made me cum like a ban-sidhe.  I was filthy from his handiwork, and he had no qualms, and no mercy.  He demanded my submission, demanded I answer his age old question...."Who do you belong to?"  "NOBODY YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE, I BELONG TO NO ONE. I AM ALONE"  He grabbed my hair then, hauling my ear up to his mouth "You are NOT alone, and you will ALWAYS belong to ME.  I will NEVER, EVER, let you go again."  He sank his teeth into the meat of my back, and roared out his release.  We both collapsed for a moment, he rolled me onto my back, and ate me some more.  By the whimper in my voice and the cadence of my noises, he knew I hadn't given him my big orgasm.  His hand crept between my thighs, and two fingers went into my pussy, stroking in there and hitting the trigger point. He was sweating like a madman, and fucking my pussy with his whole hand.  It bloomed then, like a white hot poker radiating in circles from my core to the tips of my fingers, and even after I fell limp, he pushed me towards the abyss again.  And just that quickly, I climbed to another peak, higher, more devastating, that destroyed me on every level.  I hated him, I loved him, I needed him.  And I thought briefly, could I just use him for sex?

Tucked into his body, held safe in his arms, I slept the sleep of the dead for the first time in many many months.  No bad memories, no regrets, no sadness, no emptiness, no.....beast.  At last and by the mercy of god, Lilith was sated, and quiet.

Spring Fling, Part 2

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Come Sail Away

Sometimes Malcolm and I sit back and wonder if it's worth it to host events. It's a pain in the ass, lots of responsibility, time, and money. Lots of headaches with people changing their minds last minute. We have hopes of awesome times, we keep faith that all of our events, to date, have been successful. So I took a huge leap and decided to plan a Swinger's cruise. Tons of money on the line, weather to deal with, and a thousand other hoops to jump thru.....and all so fucking worth it.

I was grousing, towards the end, that I didn't wanna do it again. That it had gotten on my nerves, I was loosing confidence, and just wanted the friggin thing over with. Malcolm's mom took ill and landed in the hospital midweek, and then the Hurricane. Both of us overcame hurdles of a ginormous proportion to make this thing happen. But get over them we did, and we had ourselves the largest most successful event to date. I'd gone all out and hired an awesome DJ for the night, and we'd planned games, and door prizes as well. It really was a no holds barred attempt to make our name once and for all. It worked this time.

One of my members graciously stepped up and hosted a preparty at the local tavern. This place has amazing food, and more than half the group showed up for drinks and food before the cruise. We went to the preparty as soon as our room set up was complete, as we knew there wouldn't be any time between leaving the cruise and starting the afterparty to do so. It was hurried for us, because we had to get on board to do party setup as well, but the energy level in the room for this event was fantastic. It was cold, it was raining, but people were acquainting themselves with each other, and looking forward to boarding the ship regardless of the weather. I was struck by how gorgeous this group of people was. Couples, the lot, except for my boytoy Ian, of course, and the vanilla crowd was trying to figure out what this group of scantily clad, hug and kiss loving people were about. That was MINT!! On board, we set up hastily, and the first guests arrived. The bar was open and ready, and so were we, and after a brief delay waiting for a few couples that didn't make it, we set sail on Long Lake.


The music started, and my smart ass DJ chose the theme music from Gilligan's Island to kick it off. LOL...get it a three hour tour and all? LOL...wow. It was on from there. I had one of my right hand ladies make introductions for some late boarders, and we mingled, danced and got ready for the first party game. We'd decided on 3 games, which got increasingly more risque as the night wore on. What we hadn't thought about was that the top deck...open and soggy because of the recent rain, would be JAMMIN with people getting their truly serious Freak on, myself included. Malcolm and I took some early moments to stand at the railing overlooking the water and reflect on where we were, what we wanted, and how things are. His fear of the water recessed as he accepted that there would be no rogue waves killing us all, and for the fact that he couldn't exactly see it either. But the height of that railing, and the great footstool that the picnic table bench made...ahh, that was a great great thing. He bent me over that railing, lifted up my beaded so short skirt to find me naked and waiting underneath it.....and he shoved his cock in hard, slapping my ass as he did so. That was the first hour.

Three hours of that fantastic cruise seemed to be over in the blink of an eye. Everyone had an amazing time, everyone hugged and thanked us on their way out. And more than half of them showed up at our motel room for the after party. The sign of a fantastic party is when nobody wants it to end. And this one had a life of it's own. Starting around 12:30 am, the last guests left about 4 am. There was an ebb and flow to this party, which went between 2 adjoining rooms. It was so incredibly carnal, with the need to feed some sexual need filling people's thoughts even more than the need to drink. Each room was filled with writhing bodies, bodies getting fisted by the boytoy, women learning how to squirt for the first time and screaming out their very very wet releases. Men being sucked dry by talented tongues and mouths. The slap of someone being fucked very hard and deep. The brisk smack of an ass being punished. The moans of men and women coming over and over and over again. And the knowledge that no matter what, Malcolm hadn't finished until he'd finished with me. His cum belongs to me.

I don't honestly remember everything about that afterparty. It tended to take you over until you were part of the collective whole. It was one of those parties that people will talk about for years, and always compare other parties to. Because some small part of everyone's sanity was gone that night. It was all about sex, and pleasure, and more of both of those things than I think anyone thought themselves capable. Unbridled Lust.

I finished my night sandwiched between my boytoy and my lover. Ian filled my mouth and my throat while Malcolm's cock fucked my ass. I was dommed by both of them, and it was my pleasure to serve. It was also my pleasure to fight both of them, and recieve punishment. I've never seen my boytoy so hard as when he could wrap his fist in my hair and force my head down harder on his cock, while Malcolm would put his hand on the back of my neck and force me down harder on that sweet hard irish cock, pushing it farther in my throat until I gagged nonstop, just a continual contraction on the head of Ian's cock. It was the only time Ian came that night, I'd like to think he'd saved it for me. And as Ian finished, Malcolm chose that moment to assert his control and dominance at a new level.

Malcolm had been jealous the few days before the cruise, as family issues threatened to keep him away from it, and from me. I am still blown away that this magnificent bold man can actually feel jealous over ME. Be afraid that HE'd lose ME. Although we don't generally prescribe to jealousy issues in our relationship, this first time had me feeling thrilled that his level of caring has reached that proportion. So he wanted to mate me in all his primal glory, and stake his claim. He got it. He flipped me over on my back, and fucked my desperately sore pussy as hard as he could, slamming it home and hitting the back over and over in a sweaty pounding rhythm. He put his hand print on me in time with his thrusts, trying to get my tears, but only succeeding in making me try to top him from the bottom. I could feel him getting closer, and I hit him back, surprising him with my defiance. But he knew the game, and knew what I wanted. I got it, I got his rage, and his frustration. And I got his cum, filling me up, spilling out, and mixing with my own squirt as i bathed his lower body in my own cum.

He yanked me out of bed, and we headed for the shower where he tenderly ministered to me and kept me from falling. Helping me wash my hair, and all my secret places. Careful not to hurt my sore aching body. He tucked me into bed, put his furnace of a body against my cold skin, and shushed me to sleep, and we slept like the dead for a bit...oblivious to the sun making it's way into the sky. Ian had a cuddle partner as well, and at some ungodly hour, she made her way back into our room and kept him warm as well. I'm glad, as our beds were not set up to accommodate all three of us, and I was sad that Ian was isolated. I need not worry about him, he made an incredibly great accounting for himself, and is already much much loved by the ladies of the group, collectively.

We are now getting ready to plan for the next event. Part of me is afraid... I'm afraid I can't possibly do any better than what I already did. But like Malcolm says, we aren't in this to always try to top ourselves. We're in this because this is what we do, it's who we are. I agree baby.

Girl Power!

I love making love to Malcolm. I love feeling his velvet steel body, comparing and contrasting all his hardness and sculpted planes to my soft curvy body. I love his dominance, his sexual and commanding presence. I love feeling cherished and protected when I'm in his aura. I love knowing he'd do anything for me.


But this blog isn't about Malcolm, to his chagrin. Malcolm was away with his kids this weekend, as I spent the majority of my weekend with mine, and the Balloon Festival. But an opportunity arose that I felt I couldn't pass up, a local party held by a lovely woman I've been wanting to meet forever. The party was literally about 10 minutes away from my house, and would feature, I know, many of the local area groups. As we are in the process of building our group, and promoting a huge event, it seemed the right thing to do for at least one of us to attend, and network. Afterall, people read our posts all the time, it's not cool if they never see us out and about.


So I spoke to him about it, asked his permission, was granted a free pass to enjoy myself however I wanted to, and secured the attendance of a couple of friends as well. There's going stag, and then there is just plain foolish. If I'm going to attend without my mate, at least I can use the opportunity to introduce my friends around. True? We dropped my daughter off at her sitter, and headed to the party.

The set-up was amazing. A large property with house, large cleared yard, several mesh tents with seating, a couple of campers, a huge buffet, and a bonfire. Oh yes, and two play areas, one public, one private. Nice! My friends and I said our hellos and I introduced them to the people I did know, and started chatting with people that knew OF me. It's always exciting to meet new people, and see if that little bit of chemistry is there. Kind of awkward when your significant other isn't there, but I learned a huge lesson last night. Even when he's not with me, his comforting presence is still with me, he's always with me. People have long memories, and the impression that Malcolm casts isn't one that anyone forgets easily. So he was toasted, and boasted, and praised, and loved by all those that have made his acquaintance and can't wait to see him again. I had so much fun, so many great conversations. Our hostess also held a wet t-shirt contest, in which my friend, the girl half anyway, partook in. Watching these ladies get sprayed down with really cold water that made their shirts translucent, and their nipples pucker up nice and hard was such beautiful eye candy. I wanted to touch them all.... sigh!

It was an incredibly muggy night, and I kept feeling a sheen of moisture coating me, unpleasantly warm and humid. Someone mentioned a pool, and for the first time I noticed a small blow up pool, about 30 inches tall. MMM, cool contained chlorinated water. I'm IN! Realizing I was alone in this endeavor, I made for the shadows, stripped my clothes off as quick as I could, and stepped into the water. I went to my knees, and then down on all fours just wanting nothing more than to get wet, and cool. It was such a relief, so pleasurable, I forgot myself for a moment, and didn't notice the eyes that were watching me. I became a bit bashful again, upon noticing everyone looking at me, got out, collected my clothes, and went to where I could more easily dress myself. It was all worth it, I felt so much better. I went to the buffet, and chowed on some delicious pasta salad, some lasagna, mmm, cheeses, you name it, and decided I'd take some time out to sit. A couple joined me...and they've given leave to use their real names. They were such a handsome couple, she...gorgeous, just fucking gorgeous. He...the kind of man I like ALOT. She was beautiful, and lush, and had the best conversation, the best sense of humor, there wasn't anything that WASN'T amazing about this girl. He was hot, shaved, tats that matched with HERS, and an amazing body to boot. Just incredible eye candy the both of them. We had great conversation, my friends came over to join us, and another guy too. I just remember thinking WOW, Malcolm and I could do so much with this couple, I'd just...mmmmm.

I'd made a deal with the sitter not to be out too late, so come 11 pm, I decided I'd better go. Amy, sigh...saying her name is even a pleasure, LOL. Amy so nonchalantly asked if I'd let her lick my pussy. My mind totally blanked for a second, but I thought, I'd rather be licking YOU! So we agreed to trade, and headed for the open playroom. She wanted to go down first, so I crawled up on the gargantuan bed and layed on my back....dropped my knees open and felt her sweeet sweeeet tongue touch me. Jesus GOD she was so...GOOD at what she was doing. She added her fingers, and it was incredible. My friend that I'd attended with made her way into the room, and after letting her know she needed to be naked too, I begged her to sit on my mouth. I wanted to be licking something, but mostly, I wanted to be eating a sweet juicy pussy. My friend agreed, and I pulled her down hard onto my mouth, sucking in her clit in time with how Amy was sucking and licking mine. I don't know if you can really explain the joy in eating pussy. It's smell, it's taste, the texture. Finding the special places that make a woman scream and cum. It's an art, it's something I don't think, once you do it, that you can say you'd never do again. Feeling your tongue against a clit, how it stiffens, it's slightly metallic taste....lol hard to explain but an excited clit has a taste all it's own. Sucking it into your mouth, flicking your tongue over it, coaxing it out of it's little sheltered hood. Oh yeah....and knowing that this gorgeous Amazon of a woman is eating you out, my god.....I came...a few times at least.

Different women have different tastes. Some can be slightly musky, some like smoked almonds. Some taste like the ocean. Some taste very very sweet. Amy is very very sweet. I suspect she eats alot of fruit, because she tastes phenomenal. I woke up this morning still tasting her, and it made me want to roll over and put my head back in her beautiful pussy. But today was for remembering not only how good she is at the giving....but also how amazing she feels when she's receiving. I got to watch her have my friend on her face as well, and knew that's what she'd seen when she was eating me. It made me pulse and clench, made me wish for Malcolms thick cock to fuck me hard while my tongue lapped at her, and sucked her. I wanted to make her scream, I wanted her to feel amazing. I fucked her with my fingers, 3 of them which she took like a champ. In and around, looking for the spot that would make her happy. I think I may have found it, LOL. Unfortunately, I didn't get to hear her screams as they were muffled by the silky folds of my friend's pussy...LOL, how AWESOME is that??

To be fair, her significant other also ate me, and Rick baby, you have a phenomenal tongue. I can't wait to do so much more with him, to know what he feels like all over, in my mouth, in my pussy.....in my ass. I can't wait to meet up with these two again! More than that, I can't wait for MY lover to experience them as well. It was wonderful as a single girl, and it will be fucking amazing as a couple.

I don't often wax on about my bi side, but I haven't had occasion lately to fulfill that side of myself. It was so wonderful to indulge in the wonder of women. I wish I'd had more time to luxuriate in all her curves. I wish I'd been able to do so much MORE. I didn't even have time to sample her amazing breasts, and that is a serious crime. But that is what next times are for, and in this instance, there will be more next times. Sorry Amy, I'm not letting you off the hook that easy hunny!

The Boytoy, pt 2

I honestly have never been in a relationship before where my guy will allow me the freedom to be by myself with another man. It still baffles my mind, and as I told him this morning, makes me wonder if there will be a shoe dropping soon....

That night after the party ended, and everyone except Ian had left was amazing. I love being with Ian, being kissed by him, and feeling his hands smooth my skin everywhere. I crave his touch, need to feel him all over me. He has the softest hair I've ever felt, and I can't get enough of running my fingers thru it, and playing with his curls. He's just simply beautiful. What I really love about Ian, though, is the fact that nothing is taboo with him. I can toss his salad and play with his prostate while I suck his cock deep into my throat. I can suck and bite his nipples and make him groan in pleasure. No part of his body is unavailable to me. I can have it all. I LOVE THAT!!!! I love that I can bring him to a mind blowing climax with my mouth. But what is the most unique thing about Ian? He specializes in making women squirt. Alot.

Yep, Ian can make ANY woman squirt buckets of cum. No joke!! He uses his tongue, and his lips, and his teeth...and then he uses his hand. Jesus GOD, that hand. The night after the party, I was incredibly sore from the pounding Malcolm had given me, so Ian was not able to fist me. But he was able to squeeze 3 fingers in and find the "trigger". And he would rub and rub, and there would be this sensation of painful intensity....of an overwhelming fullness and pressure, and then, just when it would feel like I couldn't take it another second, I'd bear down, and a flood would issue forth. It's not always orgasmic when it happens, but it is such a feeling of unmitigated relief that it's better than orgasmic. Then, when he pushed me past my limit, even as i cried and begged, and told him I couldn't do it again...and he barked YES YOU CAN!.....he pushed me up the peak one more time, and everything in the world flew apart in a million blinding pieces as I came and came and squirted all my fluids on him. I came so hard that my pussy contracted around his fingers and he couldn't pull out. All I could think of was that he'd knotted me, just like a dog, and we were hung up. After about half a bottle of lube, and making me push down to ease him out, we were free, and laughing. A few hours of sleep, and he was right back at it when we woke up again. Everything was so wet....

So, I found that the week after the party, I wanted his hand. I wanted him so bad my pussy would clench every time I'd think of him. If he'd have lived locally, I'd probably have found a way to do him again. It was this clawing need bordering on addiction. I called Malcolm and expressed my need and my concern, even so far as to tell him that maybe I wasn't cut out playing alone. I knew in my heart that I didn't love Malcolm any less, but my GOD, I just NEEDED.....

Ian and I continued to chat via IM, and he felt the same way. He'd had a great time with me and wanted to repeat the experience. I let him know that under no circumstances could I ever do anything without Malcolm's prior knowledge and consent...I will not cheat on him, and I will not hurt the one man that has shown me more love and freedom than I've ever know. Malcolm knew that I was feeling some mental and emotional turmoil over the situation, and he came to take care of it last Wednesday.

Wednesday I knelt to Malcolm again, reaffirming my place in his life as his treasured and loved sub, reaffirming my willingness to accept his will. I was reminded of my role, I was disciplined. Above all I was loved and cherished. Malcolm can be a stern and daunting master when he chooses. I'd not seen that side of him before, and it startled me a bit. But it also induced a healthy dose of respect and admiration for this man that understands me on such a cellular level. He inspires me to trust him bit by bit when he proves his ability to master me. It's hard to express exactly what I mean in this situation...ya kind of have to be there....

Malcolm called me on Thursday to let me know that Ian had contacted him and wanted to come and spend the weekend with me, even knowing that Malcolm would be out of town. Ian was asking permission to have another personal moment with me independent from Malcolm. Malcolm also arranged for it to happen, and laid down his terms to Ian, and let me know that he approved, and wanted me to enjoy myself. I was stunned, really, to know that he'd go the mile to set something like this up for me. It went beyond being an activity he approved of, it became HIS PLEASURE for me to do this. More evidence of Malcolm's unending trust and love of me. I'm really the luckiest woman on earth.

Ian did indeed spend the weekend with me. He was fantastic with my daughter, they did the grilling together, and laughed and joked. He gave me another unbelievable night of unbridled pleasure. I came so hard, for real, that I screamed (into a pillow muffled tight over my mouth) like I was dying, and actually burst most of the capillaries in my forehead, under my eyes, and on my cheeks and chin. LOL, we did laugh about that. I told him he blew the top of my head off, and he proudly affirmed "YES I DID!" LOL, he is so damn cute.

I have incredibly tender feelings for Ian, for he belongs to me now whether he wants it or no. I always take care of what is mine, too. My promise to Ian is to respect and cherish our times together, to nourish him in spirit and friendship, and to have him know that we have his back.
My Ian....to many more nights for all of us baby!

In the Beginning...

I've been envisioning this blog for a long time now. Seeing it's existence within the quiet yet active folds of my brain, forming it's breadth and purpose the way we women goddesses often form our perfect children. Those children are conceived, and we wait. But the waiting is an active process where imagination meets reality. This blog will be that child for me. It has matured enough in my mental and emotional processes to be birthed. And so the beginning.....sloppy, joy filled, tremulous.....

I wish to chronicle a journey here, my journey and that of my partner. We are swingers enjoying an amazing life, but more than that, we defy all the odds. I am a fat girl, he is a black man. We are a BBW interracial couple, but holy cow do we have some incredible fun. My purpose is to open your eyes to a lifestyle that many consider taboo, dirty, slutty, harebrained, or otherwise unfit for "normal" people. My other purpose is to open people's eyes to how beautiful every woman can be....short, tall, fat, skinny... But mostly to hammer away the point that BBW's, or BIG BEAUTIFUL WOMEN are gorgeous, desirable, beautiful women just the way they are. My partner and I are committed to enabling women to love themselves for who they are NOW...not what someone else thinks they should become. I've struggled with body image my whole life. I still do most days because it's not something you can let go of after a lifetime of programming to believe you aren't quite right. This is my real journey. The journey to share my discovery of just how right I really am, in all the ways that matter most.

I hope you will pardon me while I struggle to put this together in a cohesive manner. I'm looking forward to sharing the past and present with everyone that cares to walk along side me for a bit.