For Your Entertainment

I love my Dom, so much. My life is full because of my service to him, and he knows me, by now, well enough to anticipate my moods, my needs, and my desires. Our sex life often reflects his desire to be my Master, with him usually assuming the dominant positions and roles, pushing me to erase more and more of the lines that might restrict our pleasure, forcing me to accept things that might be uncomfortable, or embarrassing, or painful. Then showing me how those things will make me cum even harder.

My Dom has a definite kink, and it is something that I've never been comfortable talking about, not even yet. But though it is something that I'd never even have considered doing two years ago, I find it infecting my dreams now. He's insidious in his training methods, whispering to me, always whispering and infusing my subconscious with HIS wants needs and desires so that they inevitably become mine. I think the average person would pale and feel faint if they really knew what we did sexually. Many think that they want to know it all, Jachin did. But he found out, and he finds it hard to even talk to me about my sex life now, knowing what kinds of fantasies I fulfill for Malcolm. I suppose there are levels of freak-ness. I'm not at the level of people that like to be encased in latex and have their breathing cut off while they are being cut a thousand times. But I am most definitely my Master's sub.

I used the Adam Lambert video here because in A LOT of ways, my Master reminds me of him. Adam is drop dead gorgeous, and so is Malcolm. Adam has that instant sex appeal, and definitely so does Malcolm. Adam has that edge of danger to him, where you'd honestly believe he'd hurt you for pleasure. Malcolm has that intensity as well, he exudes his masculinity and sexuality like a fog around him. I've seen lesser men feel threatened by it, and watched womens eyes dilate with excitement when they see him. Adam seems like such a nice guy, but always has that edge. Malcolm genuinely IS a nice guy, but he most certainly has that edge and then some.

Today he absolutely shattered me sexually, so much so that he wasn't quite sure I was ok after. The extent of that orgasm was transcendent, and I experienced a total system shutdown afterward. I remember sucking his cock deep, I do so love to do that. He'd already made me cum downstairs on the futon, and we moved upstairs to his sanctum to continue. I crawled between his legs on the bed and felt him grow into my throat. I love when he's not fully hard, and I can play with his velvety smoothness in my mouth, then feel the head of his cock push it's way down my throat as his excitement grows from watching me take all of him that way. He'll put his hands on the back of my head and push me down as far as I can go, waiting for me to gag on him, loving the feel of that reflex and contraction on his cock.

I wanted to continue deep throating him, but he made me stop. He actually grabbed my hair and pulled me off his cock because he let me know that he wanted to lick my ass and fuck me long and hard in every hole I owned. He also wanted me to know that HE was in control, and I was to be obedient to him regardless that letting go of his cock was the last thing I wanted to do.  My mouth made a "pop" noise as he broke the suction, and a thick ribbon of spit came out, which he promptly licked and kissed off my face.

He had me scooch up the bed and get in a tight doggy position for him. His hand went into my sopping wet pussy and his mouth went straight for my ass as he rimmed and licked and tongue fucked me, all while fingering my spot to distraction. I knew he was excited and hard as a rock, and he decided to get his cock wet by fucking my drenched cunt, rolling himself in and over every wall inside, every spot that made me moan and beg for more from him. He loves hearing me get worked up, and he can tell by the cadence of my moans, and my pitch when I'm getting to a critical point. He uses those audio clues, along with the feel of my pussy contracting around his cock to know when he can push me to serve him well.

Malcolm loves to fuck my ass, could be there all day if he could find the time. Most of the time I love it too. Occasionally it hurts, especially if I'm not worked up enough when he decides to get to it. Sometimes it just hurts period, and no amount of being turned on will change that, but being hurt in another way will. But on the rare occasions that I am not hurting, and am so damn turned on I'm begging for it, and throwing myself into it with utter abandon, those are the moments that Malcolm strives for and basks in. This was one of those times.

His cock was glistening with my juice, and he prefers not to lube me artificially if he can help it. Somehow, even the most mundane and gentle of lubes can feel like it burns chemically in my ass. He was so wet, and so was I for that matter, that he just had to place the broad head of his cock against my hole, and press in with a steady constant pressure to have it open up like a flower in bloom. Malcolm is not a slouch where it concerns dick size and width, so even after all this time, he still stays himself at the beginning to give me a couple of moments to breathe into it, to let the crampy feeling subside, and to relax and just start fucking him back. He got wild then, his excitement taking over, as he slammed himself against me making sure that not even a millimeter of his cock was outside of my body. He'd rock his narrow hips against my ass literally burrowing inside of me trying to get deeper than ever.

This magical thing happens when we take anal sex to this level. I can feel his cock rubbing my spot right through that so thin membrane that separates my ass from my pussy. It happened this time, and it makes me push HARD, to the point that he has to slam himself back up in me to keep from getting pushed out. That pushes me over the edge and makes me come like a banshee, and it makes me squirt about a quart of cum. I remember screaming into the mattress, my face down while he felt my ass AND pussy contracting all around him, and I could feel the cum raining out of me for what felt like minutes, making a deep puddle on the bed. He had his hand in the stream, and was smearing it all over my back and ass, just fucking me like a mad man, slapping the bullshit out of my ass until it was red. He rubbed it all over his body as well, then leaned over me and fucked me while sliding his chest up and down my back, my own cum the lubricant between us. He leaned down to my ear, roughly grabbed a handful of my hair to pull it away from my face and to yank my head up to him "You like being my dirty nasty fucking whore?" "FUCK YES!!" I screamed back at him. "Yes WHO, damn you??" he demanded. I hesitated for a moment, and it was a moment too long as he wrapped my hair tighter around his fist and yanked again. "Yes Daddy" I purred, but he wasn't satisfied..."NOT good enough bitch, Yes WHO??" "Yes.....Master" I complied. I don't know why it was like yanking a tooth out to say it, it didn't come easy and he knew it. "You better remember that and remember who owns you." as he punctuated with his deep thrusts, his hand creeping back to my pussy to double penetrate me.

He did fuck both my holes for a moment, but wanted his cock in my pussy. So he switched, moaning at how hot and liquid I was, telling me how god damned good my pussy was. He once told me that he'd met other beautiful girls that were like stepping up to a Ferrari. They were elegant, exciting, and sleek, and he just wanted to work them up down and all around. But when he got inside that beautiful Ferrari, it was missing a damn gear, and couldn't go any faster than 45 MPH. He finds women that are restrictive or controlling or neurotic to be just that. A beautiful car that isn't fully functional and ultimately disappointing. I'd asked him then, well what the hell am I?? He looked at me with that look he gives me that's filled with the promise of a mess to come, and said I was like his Ducati Monster. I was Bad Ass, Hot Rod, Beautiful, and did things that would make other men shudder or run away.  I was special simply because I wasn't for everyone, I required a special hand to know what to do with me.  But that when the evolved man got ahold of me, it was the most amazing ride ever. LOLOL though a part of me would rather be a Bentley, I do acknowledge that I'm happy to be more about functionality rather than exterior. And after all, HE is the Bentley of this relationship, and God KNOWS he's CERTAINLY not missing any gears. :)

 It wasn't long after moving to my pussy that he came. I know it came as a surprise to him that it had happened, because he was trying to slow down, and then just did this "OH OH OH" thing and slammed himself back into my ass while he came buckets. His toes curled. LOL we raced each other to the shower, and he lovingly washed my back while I lathered my hair. He always finishes showering first, and he went back to the bedroom to clean up the nasty sheets while I finished rinsing. It was early still, and he wanted to rest and watch a movie together, so we did, but I was still feeling one orgasm that was stuck up inside of me. I could feel it when I'd move my pelvis, it was this pressure. I did start to rub my clit while he held me but the movie got good, and we just laid together to watch it. As it finally ended, Malcolm was tired and wanted a good half hour's nap before getting up to go to work. I had tried to let it go and forget about it so I laid there with him just feeling the mild burning of THAT SPOT. He'd triggered it briefly when he'd fucked my pussy for a minute before he came last time, and it just wouldn't be ignored. I did try to pull away from him but he wouldn't let me go, and he took my hand and put it in my pussy, encouraging me to rub it. I was so wet, he could hear it squelching, and he sat up to watch me do it. I do find it mildly disconcerting to masturbate in front of him, in the daylight no less, but I shut my eyes and just concentrated on feeling...everything. It was his undoing. He was hard again.

He pushed into me, and told me to keep rubbing my clit as he fucked me. Fuck...it felt so amazing, his cock hitting my spot, and my fingers dancing over my clit. But as he fucked me deep and slow, my clit dried up. I asked him to wet my clit, thinking he could just drag the wet tip of his cock over it and I'd be good, but he took it to mean I wanted his tongue, and he went down on me. Holy God...it was just what I needed. My clit was so swollen and his tongue was so hot, but there was still one thing missing. His Hand.

I pushed his hand, and he knew, he put his fingers up there and I could feel it then, it started in my scalp, radiating out and prickling the back of my neck and making my nipples pucker up. It made this heat blossom inside, in my uterus, and then as I breathed like a small train going up Everest, it broke, and I lost my fucking mind. I screamed like someone was knifing me, continued to fuck his hand until I almost broke it, and it just went on and on and on. I know somewhere in the midst of it, he snatched his hand back before I really did break his fingers off, and slammed his cock home so he'd be able to feel the contractions. They were hard, and they were long lasting and deep. It's not an ordinary orgasm when this happens, it's almost a full body orgasm, and I know he feels the difference when he fucks me through it. He says it feels like my pussy is chewing on his cock almost, it's that hard and intense. Regardless, it made him cum a second time AND made him lose HIS mind. He screamed and his eyes fell out and rolled around the floor with mine for awhile. LOL, it's our joke now that when I cum intensely, my eyes fall out because my face literally bruises around my eyes. Try explaining THAT to your doctor. :)

Because of the movie we'd watched, we didn't have time for a nap. I was a wreck, my legs were shaking, I had no strength in my arms or hands, and I just wanted to pass out. He wasn't feeling much better, but we both sucked it up and hit the road. I do know I served him well because he called me about 12 times from work to let me know what an awesome morning he'd had, and I concurred, thinking to myself that it would probably be a week before I needed any sex again, if I even recovered that fast, LOL. It was amazing, as always, and he marked and scented me again. I do belong to him, it's just that simple.

Yes, Master.

Remembering Three Wonderful Days...The Drive Home

The alarm clock was set for 5:10 am, but both of us woke up beforehand.  The drapes in the motel room were shut, but cracks of light were still streaming in, and we were conditioned to wake early to get ready.  We were both positively exhausted, but on this, the last day of the Trek, I was working at the very 1st rest stop, so I had to get out and get there so that prep would be finished in time for the first riders coming through.  So I thought.

Malcolm wasn't feeling up to Day 3.  He was hurting, his knees and ankles aching and sore.  He didn't want to do it, he wanted to quit.  I was speechless, quite frankly, I'd never figured that he WOULDN'T finish.  I told him to not make a decision immediately, to wait until after breakfast.  I asked if he'd come be a volunteer in the tent with me, and he looked at me like I was clinically insane.  Obviously I hadn't understood that his edict was for both of us.  WE were done.  He shooshed me gently, shut off the alarm, and curled into me to have us both get another couple of hours of sleep.

I was rather devastated.  I tried to build myself up to argue.  The volunteers were short handed, they were counting on me being there.  But here is where being in a D/s relationship can be difficult.  As my dom, he expects my compliance and obedience.  He'll listen to my argument, but the final decision is his.  I struggled to comply, to not get angry and rail against him and do what I wanted to do, which was to stay and honor my commitment.  However, we are not just two individuals hanging out together.  We are a couple, we are a family.  The needs of the family outweigh the needs of the individual.  I got that from Star Trek, Mr Spock.

As if to punctuate Malcolm's point, when we got to Colby to pick up his bike, it had a flat.  Now, yes there were a thousand options to have it repaired right there.  But Malcolm took it as one more sign that we were done.  Aside from the pain and marked lack of motivation he was experiencing, one of the biggest things that was bothering him was the fact that he didn't know the upcoming route, and he was tired of nasty surprises.  From the terrain map we'd been given, Day 3 was an awful day with many many highs and lows.

I texted my volunteer leader to let her know I was going to be unable to join them, feeling terrible and guilty.  Malcolm knew I was really struggling with obedience and conscience, and we went to eat breakfast.  I was, by this time, extremely sick of scrambled eggs with pancakes or french toast, since it was what we'd eaten every morning.  But free is a hard thing to pass up, so we partook, sitting with an almost 50 something woman who was getting ready for her final day's ride.  I almost thought that conversation with her would guilt him into it, into needing to finish, but no...he was set on his course.  He did want to make me feel better though, and so as we drove away, he told me he wanted to drive the last route, and see for himself what he'd have been up against, and what he intended to actually complete in 2011.  Truthfully, as I drove away with him, the knot of frustration loosened up and went away, and I was glad to just be able to spend the day with him leisurely, enjoying his company after such a hectic weekend.

So we drove from Waterville to Belfast on a gorgeous scenic drive, Malcolm interjecting here and there some hilarious quips like "You gotta be JOKING, look at the size of that hill!", or "See that guy?  He's wishing he were dead right about now.". LOLOL, we laughed, he held my hand, and we drove to the sea, just finally happy to be with each other.

From Belfast, we decided to take Rt 1 to get home.  Another gorgeous drive along the coast, we chatted about wealth, and people from away, and about being party hosts.  We talked about how wonderful it was to not be hosting right now, to just have time with each other whenever we wanted, to just be able to give each other our total sexual attention.  But we did both recognize that we'd probably want to host again come the fall.  Malcolm decided he wanted lobster, so we stopped at a little roadside shack that sold them, and he bought them on ice to take home.  We passed by my massage therapy school, and I got to reminisce about all the drives out to Waldoboro I'd taken while completing my certification.  It was a remarkably wonderful day, sunny and hot again, clear and beautiful.

As we arrived home, we unpacked his bike and bags, and I went up to the Man-Cave for a bit.  I was eager to be home because I missed my daughter, and I wanted family time with her as well.  Malcolm wanted to get to HIS daughter and get his family time in too, so we hugged for a long time, and kissed, and grossed Jachin out with our "lovey dovey" shit.  I do think it's funny that Jachin has the nerve to get uncomfortable with Malcolm and I being amorous after all the times I've had to watch him with whoever, or listen to his stories of the latest escapade.  Yet he'll sit at his computer and alternate between being pissed off and getting turned on while he listens to Malcolm fucking me repeatedly.  He's kind of becoming the creepy old man lurker.  The only thing missing is him actually standing in the doorway watching us while he fondles himself. LOLOL

I got in the car to drive home then, so tired I was having a hard time.  Malcolm just knew, somehow that I needed to hear his voice, so he called while I was driving, and kept me talking so that I wouldn't fall asleep at the wheel.  I drove home like that, with him tucked into my ear, his uber deep sexy voice purring to me, making me laugh, making me remember every last erotic detail, and finally getting me into my driveway safely.  My daughter, who I'd picked up on the way went upstairs with me to go take a much coveted nap, and we snuggled together in our big bed, hugging each other and bringing the weekend to a sweet close.

Remembering Three Wonderful Days....Day Two

Day two dawned hot, which was a bad sign for the upcoming temperature for the riders. We woke up, went to pee in the weeds around Violet's barn so that we wouldn't wake up everyone inside by making their big dog bark, and packed our car with our meager belongings, ready to head over to UMF. It was a quiet drive, both of us tired and aching. Malcolm did not wear his team jersey, instead opting for a sleeveless all cotton gray t-shirt, one who's armholes were large so as to let air flap through on the ride. As we got to the campus, I parked in a spot I probably shouldn't have been in, one that was right close to everything. Malcolm headed off to go check on his beloved bike, and make sure that it was a.)still present, and b.)not damaged. He found his wheels, wiped off the dew from his Brooks Saddle, and walked the bike back over to me so that he could get to the repairs tent. His tire pressure seemed low, and he pumped them back up to the 90 odd pounds of pressure he keeps them at. The number makes me cringe, and I always worry they'll explode.

At 7 am it was already 73 degrees out, and the humidity was rising. We went in to get breakfast to start the day, and fell into line with the other thousand riders also waiting. It wasn't an awful wait. The UMF staff was serving up breakfast cafeteria style, and people were flying through. We sat with some other riders from the Gritty's Pub team who wanted us to find them at the end of the day at Colby College, where all the major teams would have pavillion tents assembled in what they called "Tent City". My company would have the largest tent there with tons of free eats, but it would be fun to visit everyone else. Breakfast concluded, I let him know I wasn't going to wait for him to start, since I was worried that I'd be late getting to my rest stop. So he left, and I left, and the day began.

The drive/route on day two was a little easier in terms of elevation gains, but the roads were narrower and there were more roads in disrepair than on day one. The views were beautiful, however, and I stopped on my way to Madison to take some pics.

 Yes, I also took pics WHILE I was driving, and YES I'm straddling the middle line, and at times had to drive in the other lane to accommodate the riders. It got nerve wracking, especially coming up to the blind turns, but I just kept in mind that this was THEIR event, and I was there to help. I got to my rest stop in time, being at the second one this time.

It was a giant pavillion tent in a paper field, and the heat clustered underneath the tent, along with swirls of flies and other bugs. But we set to work making peanut butter sandwiches again for the riders snacks, along with cutting up oranges, apples, and grapes. I helped set out salty snacks, and filled in where I could as needed. It's fulfilling work to support this huge undertaking. I may never be able to ride in the event, but I can help, and that is a wonderful feeling. Our rest stop this time featured a face painting table, and I noticed, when the riders were coming through, that it wasn't manned, and people wanted it to be. So I stepped in, and face painted, arm painted, hand painted whatever anyone wanted. Cougars, pumas, team insignias and company logos, I did them all to the delight of the kids and adults both who were waiting in line for theirs. Malcolm of course smiled and cocked his eyebrow at me, his facial expression saying "Really? You're PAINTING??" LOL. I stopped to stay with him for the few minutes he was there, helped him get his water bottles refilled, and drank some ice cold water with him to rehydrate in the now 89 degree late morning. He didn't want to dawdle and stiffen, so he was off fairly quickly, off to conquer the eight miles until the next stop. We packed up, cleaned up, and set off, me trying to get to Colby College in Waterville as quickly as I could, knowing that he'd be exhausted, hot, and most likely cranky.

I had a hard time finding him at Colby, the campus just full and bustling with activity, tents, food, entertainment, and lots and lots of riders. Thank goodness we had our cell phones to find each other with. He was putting his bike in storage, getting ready for the next day's ride, and we met each other on the sidewalk below tent city. My back and hips were done from standing and painting, stooping, and serving, and he was just done, period. We were both exhausted, and the heat was frying my sunscreen free skin. We walked to Tent City, to our team's tent where we met with the captain, got his new team shirt, and ate...all around 3 pm. Neither of us had taken a shower in the morning, and, well, after a night of fooling around with Malcolm, we were both nasty as hell. We sat down and chowed, chatted with one of my co-workers, and Malcolm stripped off his shirt, rendering him virtually naked with only his skin tight micro biking shorts.

I noticed my co-worker looking a tad uncomfortable in Malcolm's overwhelmingly masculine presence, but I also noticed the scowl on his face, and knew better than to say anything to him when he was this hot and tired. He looked over at me picking at my veggie burger and wanted to know if I was ready to go. I did tell him that team photos were going to be taken in about 20 minutes, and he let me know, in no uncertain terms, that our team wouldn't miss him in the least, and that it was time for us to go.

We were staying at a motel that night, and we drove there, blasting the air conditioning. Upon arrival, I noticed that my body had decided to suddenly relax and let it all go, so I made the stupidest mad dash running for our room, almost crying when I couldn't find the elevator. I left a trail of my things in my hurry, and I heard Malcolm laughing all the way down the hallway as he picked up behind me. It was a quick jump for me from the toilet to the shower, FINALLY, and nothing in the world had ever felt so good as letting the water wash all the grit and filth away. God knows I love Malcolm, and God knows I love fucking the bejeezus out of him. But really, sex with him absolutely requires some kind of water afterwards, and preferably soap. The hotel shower was a godsend. He waited for me to finish, and took his own leisurely shower. He didn't want massage therapy, complaining that it hurt, that I was a sadist, and that it didn't help. Cry baby. We didn't sleep, but went shopping after at KMart buying him some shorts, both of us a matching pair of new sandals, more BenGay, and Ibuprofen. It was after this shopping trip that I got into an altercation with my sister and my mother over the phone, dissolving into tears in the middle of the parking lot and utterly breaking down. Malcolm took one look at me, heaved a huge sigh, hung up the phone for me, and said "Time for bed, NOW." So we went back to our motel around 4:30, and slept solid until 9 pm, when we decided it was time for supper.

Though he'd wanted liver and onions for supper from Governors, we'd overslept. So he took me on a mini date night to Ruby Tuesdays and we feasted, and talked, and held hands. We had an altogether amazing night, and we drove back to the motel, stomachs happy, and still exhausted. It was a pretty unanimous decision to just go to bed, full stomach and all, and once there, he fidgeted. He tossed, and turned, and he finally said "I just gotta fuck you, and it's not going to be pretty because I just don't have much in me." LOL, I asked him if he just wanted me to suck him off and he said "definitely not". So I asked him if he wanted me to ride, and he said No, he wanted to be on top, domming. Alrighty then. So he went down on me, to make sure I'd be wet for him, and he eased his hard cock inside, resting for a moment once he was in. This wasn't a hard fast fuck. It was soft and gentle, it was deep and slow. It was magnificent. But it didn't make me cum, and he knew it wouldn't. He blasted his cum into me, loving the way it felt as it tried to ooze back out around his cock. Then he laid on his back and gathered me into him, and told me to finish it for him, to make myself cum. He talked me through it telling me all his nasty fantasies, what he likes about our sex, what he wants to do soon. He let me tell him my fantasies, and told me he wants to make them all come true. And he bit my ear, and my shoulder, and spun increasingly nasty stories for me until I finally came hard and long, shaking with it, screaming with it, and then rocking for minutes with aftershocks. Going on almost 1 am, we closed our eyes and passed out.

Remembering Three Wonderful Days....The first day...

After sunrise, we gathered our things and repacked, got dressed, and ready to move out. Malcolm had forgotten his team jersey, so he wore another that he'd packed last minute. He didn't want me to huff all the way back down to the car, so he went to get it while I dragged our bags downstairs and somehow ended up on the backside of the Resort and had to walk around it in the soggy grass. Don't ask me how that happened, I have absolutely no idea in creation. When I met up with him again, he was dressed in his formal team jersey, a gift from the team captain to him since the original had been too tight across his chest and biceps anyway. He was stunning to look at. I wish I could post his picture because it is unforgettable. I can't describe how fucking sexy he looked in his tight bikers shorts, and his tight, fitted stand up collar bikers jersey. He rides for MY company, and it feel so good to see him socialize with all my co-workers like he's one of us, because he truly is. My co-workers had called him my spouse or husband all weekend, and he just stopped correcting them early on. So did I, it wasn't the time or place to start discussing open free relationships. LOL. We left from the Jordan and made our way over to the South Ridge where the starting line was. He prepped his bike, and fretted about leaving it, so i went to get us some breakfast while he guarded his precious baby. He ate lightly, not wanting to clog up his stomach before the first 25 mile jaunt, and he packed some fruit into his back pouches for the ride. We finally just sat and waited for all the team, all 102 riders, to assemble and approach the starting line. At around 8:30 am, they took to the line, and were off.
I followed in my car, trying to get to the station I was working at, and coming to the realization that I'd be following the bikers there the entire ride. I found it wonderful to pass by the paths that he'd be coming on later, it made me feel like I was there with him somehow. I did finally get to the rest stop at which I was working, and began to make about a million peanut butter fluff sandwiches for the impending riders. I also hoarded stuff for Malcolm that I knew would make the last lap easier for him, like energy squares and protein bars.
He'd refused to stretch before the ride started, and he got to the last rest stop where I was working a little later than I'd expected. I'd begun to worry that something had happened. A flat tire, an injury I hadn't heard about, car accident and any plethora of horrifying scenes that I could imagine up. But he finally came in, sweat drenched in the 80+ degree heat of the day complaining of the leg cramps he'd been having. The last 10 mile stretch before he got to my rest stop (the third and last of the day) had been like climbing Mt Crumpet from Whoville,

and his legs had seized up at least a dozen times on the ascent, an almost 900 mile elevation gain in a twisting, winding, hellish path. He'd been wishing for death for awhile. He didn't stay long, and didn't want any coddling. He got a snack, something lite, and refilled his bottles. He gladly took the energy squares I'd saved, kissed me, and left for the finish line, now only 12 miles away from finishing his first 60 miles of the weekend.
I finished cleaning up at my stop around 3 pm (well after he'd finished) and I left to go pick him up at the UMF campus. I knew he was done, that he was miserable, and that there was no place comfortable for him to relax while he waited for me. Our friend Liz had joined me at my rest stop, declaring as she found me "I should have known you'd be serving food again", LOL, a joke referring to my catering endeavors with Affinity. She assisted in the clean up, and we both went to UMF, me in the car and her on her Harley.

We looked around for him, and finally found him sort of limping towards us, scowling. He'd set his bike for the next morning, and was ready to leave. Immediately. LOLOL

We headed over to our good friend Violet's house, who lives nearby and was putting us up for the night. Malcolm ran for the shower, and Violet was wonderful enough to wash his clothes for him. Her husband started supper while Violet took her girls to a softball game, and Malcolm, Liz and I headed up to the barn to start massage therapy on Malcolm. He was in agony, and his calves were twitching uncontrollably. Liz worked one calf, I did the other while Malcolm twisted in pain on the bed, his other muscles seizing up. I dosed him with Ibuprofen, and rubbed the BenGay on, and we urged him to rest for a moment. But Malcolm didn't want to rest. Liz was there, and he wanted to play, so play he did. I let him eat her to kingdom come while I licked and sucked her ginormous boobies. We didn't have any condoms, so I knew Malcolm wouldn't fuck her, but he fingered, fisted, licked, tongue fucked, and made her cum a few dozen times until the mattress was a wet mess. It was wonderful. He'd wanted me to take his place, but while I was laying there, all of MY muscles, which had been burning most of the day from me standing on a concrete floor serving food, froze, and I knew if I started to move the cramps and charlie horses would come. So I politely declined, begging fatigue.
Liz decided not to stay the night, to drive her big bad bike home on a perfect night. She left, and we went to have supper with Violet and her family. To this day it was the most delicious plateful of spaghetti I've ever eaten. We also found out that our late afternoon romp had been overheard by Violet's husband who'd been standing in the garage space underneath the barn loft we'd been playing in. Why he hadn't joined us I dunno. I kind of mentioned that to him and slapped his head :)
Malcolm and I went back to bed after, and he took the time to leisurely fuck me, alternating between ass and pussy. It was slow and sweet, building up until he burst and we both passed out under the fans. We slept cuddled into one another again, cold that night but both too tired to get up and look for the extra blanket. I relied on his furnace to warm us both, but 5 am came around mighty early again, and we had a much harder time raising our energy to meet the coming day. We left before our hosts were up, and weren't able to say goodbye, and we drove back to UMF, another hot day dawning for day two.

Remembering Three Wonderful Days - The Night Before...

I'd meant to write this so much sooner, when all the details were still fresh in my memory. But life has a way of intervening, and between two mothers to take care of, I find myself at a disadvantage, timewise. Malcolm's mother has also become my mother. She calls to chat, to ask me to visit with her, to ask me for things that she has need of, or just to get ahold of her son for her, LOL. I like it, and I know she's the closest thing to a mother in law I'll ever have. I told Malcolm I'd taken to calling her my mother in law, simply because the moniker "significant other's mother" is simply too complex for most people to comprehend, and it also gives me the authority to act on her behalf when it comes to social services. He thought it was a fine idea, and so long as she was ok with it, so was he. She was.

But I'm remembering our time on the Trek, where I had him to myself for three glorious days....no kids, no baby momma's and no mothers to interrupt. There was that matter of the 180 miles he had to bicycle, but he handled that just fine, sort of. The rest of the time with him was amazing. He's so easy to be with, and we have such a comfortable rhythm together. It's relaxing, intoxicating, like that erotic boil is always just under the surface, just waiting for a moment to erupt.

The night before Day One -
It was like getting ready for an event. I was frantic, like always, worried about not remembering everything we'd need...ibuprofin, monkey butt powder, camping equipment in case, blankets, pillows, clothes, snacks...it was like organizing a party from hell times 3. Making arrangements for Jujubear, who stayed with Jachin for a night, and then went to her normal sitter. Making my arrangements for my mom, who'd only recently gotten out of the hospital. But we only had to be in the mountains before 9 pm, so I had a lot of time to fret and get ready.
I picked him up around suppertime, and we packed the car with his bike and his bags, and we were on our way. The drive was beautiful, as only that particular drive can be coming from the coast and going up into some serious height of land.

We stopped at a Pizza Hut on our way, getting him a high carb supper to help get him ready for the ride, and we did our obligatory WalMart shopping before hitting the grounds of Sunday River

.

We made it to the Grand Summit for registration right as it ended, picking up the 2 tons of paperwork, and all the giveaways they had ready for us. It was a beautiful night, and as we walked hand in hand in the mild evening mountain air, listening to the peepers and crickets singing all around us, we both shared how much we would love to have that kind of life, away from it all. I love that he always walks with me and never tries to hurry or rush me, that he's simply content to walk beside me in the moment and share a little space of earth and time with me. We made it back to the car and drove the almost 8 miles to the back side of the mountain to where we were staying at the Jordan Grand Resort Hotel. What a place.
Our room was incredible and spacious, and on the third floor with a balcony overlooking everything. We started getting settled, excitement for the next day finally making us giddy, the realization that we were really doing this huge event, and doing it together finally coming to rest between us like a blessing. I'd told him I wouldn't make the first move, that he shouldn't be expending all his energy on sex. But he's mostly like a coiled animal waiting to be released, and it started on the balcony with deep lingering kisses, wet with promise while his hands sought out my breasts to hold their soft curves, or the fat cheek of an ass.
We moved inside and took one look at that amazingly puffy and comfortable luxury bed, and it's stark and ghostly white sheets. Took one look at it and knew immediately that we were not worthy to fuck on such a magnificent bed. LOLOL, that we'd destroy it beyond recognition. The room was equipped with a sleeper couch, and Malcolm pulled the thin mattress out and put it on the floor for us, and padded it up to kingdom come. And he went down like a starving man, eating me, making me cum again and again and again, and then he started with the hand. He rubbed that spot, THAT SPOT that burns, and itches, and makes me want to fuck his hand until something breaks. And he'd keep his tongue on my clit while his hand drove me to insanity...until I cried because I simply couldn't cum any more. Then it was time for fucking.
He slammed his cock into me fast and hard because he'd pushed his own limit to the breaking point. He was rough, he was dominant. His hormones were raging, and he needed to mark his territory. There is a part of him that needs to prove to me that he is the be all and end all for me, that there will never be another lover to take his place, that nobody will ever satisfy me like he does. He becomes savage, marking me any way he can. And so with that intent, he fucked me until I climbed another peak for him, and squirted and squirted. Only then, with my own hormone and juice covering him head to toe did he cum, and cum like he was a dying man. He screamed, he bit, and he clutched my throat and my hair, finally collapsing and holding me close to his heart until he could breathe again. We cleaned up and got into the beautiful bed then, and slept curled up against each other, barely moving all night.

We woke up the next morning at 5 motherfucking A.M. I'm so not a morning person, and the fact that we'd fucked until past midnight didn't do anything for my morning disposition. But after a shower and a moment on our beautiful balcony looking at the sun rise over the mountains, I realized what a truly magical gift of a moment I was sharing with Malcolm.

We stood and enjoyed it for a moment more, putting off for just a couple of minutes more the event we'd come here for in the first place.

Chillin'

Our relationship has been so sweet lately, so comfortable....like a fluffy sueded sweatshirt you can't wait to pull over your head on a damp day. I've never been in this part of a relationship before. Usually, all the guys I've been with...Mr, babydaddy...have started to misbehave by now, and are creeping, and I'm stuck with that perpetual sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. But not with Malcolm. We've gotten to the slow part, where the whirlwind romance has backed away, and you find yourself dropped in the middle of a beautiful meadow, sun shining, and full of life. We KNOW each other pretty well, but still find the time to discover new secrets about one another. We smack talk each other alot, comfortable at last to know that the other person has the fortitude to take it, and dish it out as well. Are we still a D/s couple? Absolutely. But I don't walk behind him on a leash (except on certain occasions when it strikes his fancy, LOL). I walk, most every day, beside him while he holds my hand. Sometimes giving in to my Dom chafes a bit. He sees me struggling some days to comply, my eyebrow shooting up, my lips thinning. He laughs when he sees it, knowing I'm struggling to do what I want versus taking the needs of US, as a couple, into consideration. But I've found that when I think about us as a unit, as a family, I'm much more inclined to choose what's best for the family as opposed to just doing whatever the hell I want.

I ended my ownership of Affinity, although not my immediate involvement. There is a wonderful charming couple that has taken over the reigns for me, and is so far doing exceptionally well. I was sad, at first to be done, it felt like there was an enormous void of activity in my life when I didn't have to fuss with the group so much. But I'd made a promise to Malcolm to see it done, and I did. We're free now to pursue our own life within the lifestyle, and not trapped into entertaining a group that neither one of us started. I'm happy to just take the summer off from all parties and just chill out with Malcolm and my daughter. I find I'm tired of hosting, tired of the drama, the loss of revenue, the no shows and all the bullshit. I just want to hang out with the man I love and cherish, and show my daughter an awesome summer.

Our sex life remains unsurpassed. Every encounter, every night or day we spend together just becomes more and more incredible. I would have thought that our sex life by now would have become predictable, and to a certain extent it has. But it is predictable in the sense that I KNOW I'm going to cum, and cum A LOT!! It's a predictable I crave, looking forward to the moments we plan, or the moments we steal. And I find I'm losing my shyness in the bedroom, and some of my sub-ness, and becoming more fiery and more demanding. I KNOW what I like him to do, and I like pushing his hand so that he'll finger or fist me until I come 6 ways to tomorrow. I like it when he asks me to ride him, and I see him fighting to maintain control. I love sensing that he's on the verge of cumming, and he's trying to control it to make our lovemaking last longer. And I love taking control of that moment and pushing him over the edge fast and hard so that it makes him seize up and scream. I especially like it when he loses control so much that he forgets himself and bites me while he's screaming, leaving a perfect imprint of his mouth upon my shoulder blade.

I like that love has gone from a rolling boil to a low and slow simmer. I still struggle with trying to really grasp that this is all real. That nothing awful will happen to smash it all to pieces in a heartbeat. But the more I talk to people, the more they confirm for me, without being asked, how real it is. It isn't perfect, but it is damn good. More than two years later, we're still both excited to talk to each other every day. Surely that's a great sign? LOL

Spring Fling, Part 2

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Spring Fling, part 1

Gearing up for an event always makes me a little crazy. The endless demands people make to convenience themselves at our expense irritate me even while Malcolm does his best to reassure me that it will turn out just fine, like it always does. This weekend we are hosting our BBW Spring Fling, and hosting it in MA, hoping to accommodate some of our MA and NH BBW's and BBW Lovers. We found this awesome 2 bed king suite situated in Tewksbury, not too far, and right off the Pike. And the price was awesome as well. It seemed like a win-win, though that waits to be seen.

The quality of the men that consistently attend the BBW events is unsurpassed. Malcolm is an incredible specimen of a man, beautiful, riveting, ripped, hung, and talented. He likes hosting in MA because his "brothers" come out to join us, and they are all such freakin hot eye candy. I'm normally less than enthusiastic about looking at men because most of them can't beat Malcolm for looks and body, and everything else I love about him. But honest to goodness, these guys are just fucking HOT. Really.

Malcolm and I enjoy ourselves immensely at these events. They are much more relaxed than the Affinity events, much less structured. It's a come and go as you will kind of party, and we pretty much just hang out and make merry with everyone. No buffet to fuss over, no Inn or Bartenders to make happy, no DJ to worry about. And since we are IN the "hospitality rooms" for the entire party, no worries about what's going on when we're not looking. It makes for a really fun weekend for us with minimal stress.

Malcolm extended an unprecedented offer to Jachin for this party. Malcolm was of course dead set against my allowing Medusa 1 to attend the Affinity party, but after hearing that she didn't act like a fool, at least that I knew of, he decided to let Jachin know that he was welcome to escort her to our BBW Spring Fling. Jachin regularly pleads for Medusa 1 to be allowed back into the Man Cave, from which she was banned for behavioral reasons. Malcolm has stood firm, balking at changing his mind over someone he doesn't think can act right. So Malcolm told Jachin, thru me, that he should bring her to our party tomorrow night. Should she behave decently, he might be inclined to begin to reconsider his position.

I thought Jachin would be thrilled by the invite. But OMG no. The answer was a very shrill and adamant NO! Alrighty then. I'm sure he has his reasons, known only to him, and I could speculate on them and probably come pretty close to the mark on it. Malcolm's voiced his opinion...something to the effect that Jachin only takes her to "safe" parties where she's pretty much guaranteed to not meet anyone that she'd genuinely like to fuck. Again, this is all speculation, God only knows the real reasons. Of course ours is genuinely a BBW/BBC party, and that makes Jachin extremely extremely uncomfortable. That many beautiful single black men all available for a girls wildest fantasy and pleasure.... mmm hmmm.

Of course she'd have to deal with seeing Malcolm and I fuck, and fuck repeatedly. Have to deal with watching him lick and drink my pussy like nectar, watch as he makes me cum for him over and over again. I'd probably refrain from engaging in sexual activity with Jachin, for the sake of every one's comfort. Malcolm might not like that, but with so many other men to engage myself with, I'm sure he'd forgive the slight.

So the offer goes unfilled. I hope Jachin realizes that it took Malcolm some fortitude to extend it in the first place. Took him putting his feelings on the matter aside to be fair. I personally think Jachin is reinforcing his perceived inability to share by digging in his heels and saying NO! so adamantly. But things will carry on like they were, and Jachin has missed an opportunity to get what he seemed to want so damn bad: Man Cave Rights.

Speaking Honestly

I've been thinking about this blog for a few days now, not really sure how to verbalize what I'm feeling without sounding too mushy or redundant. I think by now everyone on the planet has a pretty good idea that I'm down and dirty in love with Malcolm. And maybe I spend a lot of time going on about my feelings so that I don't have to worry about the teeny tiny insecurity of whether or not he loves me back.

Women have the innate capacity to create whole scenarios in their minds that don't exist in real life. It's based on what they want and expect, especially from men, and really has little to do with what the man wants and expects. Women are trained from early on to expect a man to be her boyfriend, to expect the boyfriend to eventually become her husband, and to have children, a family, and eventually grow old and die with that person. I believe that is what is referred to as "the fairy tale". But what do guys want? Well, they don't usually want or expect that. Mostly they just want as much pussy as they can get in their quest to stick their cocks in as many on the planet as they can convince to let them. Guys like freedom, they like variety, they like the chase. Most guys anyway... I'll give credit to the few that really do want the whole wife/kids/family/death thing.

I was still fairly naive when I started dating Jachin. I still believed that I could listen to the words he said to me about wanting to be with me, wanting to create a fairy tale, and giving him a chance, and that somehow they would be truthful. After 6 years with him, I finally understood the game somewhat, but still not really. Until Malcolm. Malcolm was a guy who was willing to take the time to patiently explain the game to me as I was watching it. He was always matter of fact, cautioning me to keep my emotions out of, teaching me how to think more like a man, and leave the silliness of the emotional behind. As a woman myself, I've always been more analytical than emotional anyways, always grasped more onto the common sense than the fantasies, and always been able to pretty much deal with "it is what it is." Malcolm liked that about me a whole lot, and was willing to work with me so that I could understand what it was that was really happening, since I just didn't have the background or real life experience to get it on my own. It was this patience of Malcolm's that stopped me from turning my rage and disappointment in Jachin to all out hatred.

Malcolm and I have had many talks. But lately, since we've worked things out and really decided to be a couple, he's taking it more seriously than I'd ever hoped or dreamed. I always worry that the other shoe will drop, and the rug will get pulled out from under me, like it was with Jachin. I worry about strange women interfering in me and my daughter's life for no other reason than they think that they have a right to steal away the man that has chosen to be with me, just like how it was with Jachin then and now. But with Malcolm it's never been like that. There was the one issue two years ago with the baby momma, but he shut it down immediately. Other than that, I am untouchable, a sacred thing in his life that he will not let another woman fuck with. Period.

So we talked the other day, and almost started to argue about him and the baby mommas, simply because at the root, he's not essentially happy with how he has to act in order to keep the peace. And his unhappiness affects me, and makes me want to make things better, fix things for him so that he is happy. But in matters of children and their mother's, there isn't a fix. I become idealistic and a bit unreasonable, expecting these women to live up to my standards and expectations of behavior in a model, civil world. But that isn't real life, it's a fairy tale too. So our discussion got a little heated, and we both decided it was a good time to break the conversation. But I realized, in the end, that his life "is what it is". There isn't a quick easy fix to it, and things really can't change at this point, not for the better anyways. They could be much much worse. Ultimately my decision is to stay and deal, or leave. Do I love him enough to stay and put up with the baggage? Or is it too much?

The honest to God truth is that I've never been happier with a man. I feel loved beyond reason, I feel protected and cherished. I feel valued and appreciated. I feel coveted, I feel WANTED. I feel everything a man is supposed to make a woman feel, and I'm so much more than content. The baggage, yeah it bites. But not enough to make me leave this miracle of a man to settle for something so much less. I texted him an apology for starting the argument, and told him that I loved him. He called me back to let me know he wasn't mad, and that he understood my opinion and how in a perfect world I'd be right. That was how we came to concensus, and I decided to be honest with him about a whole lot of everything, including Jachin.

I told him I trusted him unconditionally, that I felt like I could breathe when I was with him, and know that everything would be ok. It's hard to trust someone like that, to not worry that they aren't gonna fuck it all up while you take a moment out of the game. But I do with him. I trust him enough to kneel in his palm and allow him to direct the way. I trust him with my well being and safety, with my sexual life, and with my heart. I've always blogged it before, but never told him outright. And we had an honest conversation about me and sex, and other men. I told him I'd decided awhile back, last summer to be exact, that seeing other men was pointless. Though I'd engaged a couple guys for play back then on occasion, it didn't satisfy me sexually, only left me horny for Malcolm....and I hated that these guys would, on occasion, show up uninvited. That was creepy. So I put an end to it all, using the jealous boyfriend excuse, and happily waited for the times when I could just be with Malcolm. The only other men that I've seen in a one on one situation was Ian, with Malcolm's blessing, and Jachin. And that just didn't work out either.

I'd told Malcolm in the past that going forward, I only wanted to know if he saw other people. I just wanted both of us to be upfront and honest about it as a fairness thing. I knew that he definitely wanted to know about what I was doing, and for awhile didn't really care either way. But the game changed after we came back together after my uncle's death. Malcolm suddenly did care, and quite a lot.
He didn't want me to see other guys at all anymore, he wanted me to be chaste to him unless we could play together. I was fine with that as long as he was giving me the same thing, which I had no real reason to doubt, except for the fact that Jachin would insinuate these "things" about Malcolm without actually saying anything. I don't think Jachin was lying, but I do know that any man that actively tries to sabotage another man's relationship has motives that are questionable. And there was no doubt that Jachin was trying to plant enough doubt about Malcolm in my mind that I'd leave him. Do I think that maybe Malcolm was seeing other women? Yep, I do. And it made me a little pissed that he couldn't be honest with me the way he expected me to be honest with him. Somehow though, I started thinking about the nature of our relationship, about our pact that neither of us believed in monogamy as a lifestyle choice. Thinking about that made me realize that at the end of every encounter, he always came back to me, no matter what. Just like at parties, when he enjoys himself with other women, I always know without a shadow of a doubt that he's looking forward to being with me as my partner and mate.

Patience and understanding have never been virtues that I've had in abundance. But I have had them with Malcolm, though I'm not sure why. Perhaps it's because the waiting always pays off. Or maybe it's because he calms and soothes me enough to practice both patience and understanding. Regardless of the reasons, I found out over the past few days that having had both has put me in the place I've always dreamed of: a genuine equal partnership with a man who shows me his love by his actions as much as by his words. He told me today that he intends, going forward, to be upfront with me about his goings on. That he wants to do things WITH me, not behind my back. That he loves me, and enjoys our life together. Especially enjoys our sex life, and doesn't feel the need to seek out anything else. That he doesn't want the hassle of women acting neurotic the same way I don't want the hassle of other men acting like idiots. I hadn't thought it possible to feel any more in love with someone. But this feeling, like being a vessel that is poured full, to the brim. That's how I feel, I feel so full of his love, and I feel so amazingly happy that he's declared it all real for me, as real to him as it is to me. It's also amazing that he knows me so intimately, so very very WELL. He knows my fears, and he knows how to soothe them, one by one, until I'm laying curled by his side breathing his rhythm and basking in his scent, completely and totally his. It's a battle he's waged well, and with incredible skill, to allay my many fears. I count myself fortunate to have a man that loves me so very much, so openly, and so thoroughly.

Thank you God.

Men In Kilts

This past weekend we hosted Fetish Night. I had my reservations, worrying that the theme was too hardcore for our members, too risque. The attendance was down this month, and I figured it was because of the theme, even though there was another huge party going on this weekend in good ole New Brunswick.

Words really can't express how extraordinary this party was. It was honestly our best to date, certainly our most memorable. The party was amazing, the food and party games were off the hook, and the hospitality rooms...holy god.

Malcolm had promised to be there, knowing how important this night was to me. As my master, it was his obligation to be there to keep me. It was also our night to reaffirm our D/s relationship, and to break in my brand new collar. Last month, although the party was a roaring success (BiFem Night), all my stuff got stolen, including my toy bag, which contained my much loved collar. That old collar was a conundrum. Jachin had originally purchased it for me, had hand picked it out along with the unusual attachment. It was a one of a kind collar, beautiful, expensive, and unique. He and I wore it once during sex play and he discovered that he hated the thing because it covered too much of my neck, and he couldn't choke the mess out of me when I was wearing it. So we really never used it again. Malcolm collared me with it though, and it had a whole new life. I was sad to lose it, Malcolm had loved it as well. But somehow starting over has been exciting as well. This new collar is not burdened with memories of another lover. It is pure, and it is Malcolm and I as Master and Sub.

Malcolm had to be in Boston this weekend, but he proved his love to me yet again by making the drive back to Maine to Ogunquit, staying for the majority of the party, and then having to drive back to Boston in the wee hours of the morning. He could have changed his mind, I could honestly tell he wanted to. But he knew how much it meant to me, and he didn't want to leave me alone again this month. He wanted to be by my side. And he made it. I didn't see him when he first arrived, but when someone said to me "Hey! Look who it is!" My head turned and my eyes lit up. I ran to him, and jumped into his arms. He laughed his special laugh for me when he is delighted by my love and affection. And we went up to Ian's room to get him changed into his outfit for the night.

I can't honestly think of a stronger statement of masculinity than to wear a kilt. You have to be sure of who you are, ready to rock it, ready to look at someone who wants to jeer at you and say "Yeah, AND?" As you can see above, it was a kilt kind of night. Women were mopping up their chins, and my beautiful Malcolm had all the women agog at him as he pranced in his hand made kilt, even in the midst of the other two who had more beautifully made garments. He said he still loved his best. LOL. He changed into his ensemble, making sure to be totally naked underneath. It's only a kilt if you are, otherwise, if you're wearing undies, it's just a man-skirt, so says our awesome DJ, as shown on the left. LOLOL. Once Malcolm was dressed, and had his bad ass boots on as well, I showed him the box full of new sub items that had arrived for me. Normally the sub and her master would shop together, but Malcolm had me describe everything I was ordering, and gave his approval. I made sure to get all the accessories to go with it, and he methodically and patiently locked me into my new collar, wrist cuffs, and ankle cuffs.

I felt beautiful last night. More beautiful than I have in a long time. It was reflected apparently since I was handed many many complements. But it can't even begin to compare to how I felt after I was collared. I truly BECAME Lilith, smoky eyed, insatiable, and totally devoted to my Master. Collaring has always been exciting for me, but last night, shackled, I never felt more radiant in my servitude. In my slip corset, ankles bound, and barefoot...padlocks on all my cuffs...I belonged to him utterly. His hand on my leash left no uncertainty to anyone that I was his property. And being his has it's amazing benefits. I am sheltered and protected as a thing of great worth, as his displeasure and wrath are a scary and ferocious thing. I am cared for by everyone who clucks and fusses over me, making sure I am ok. The men are honor bound to keep me safe and happy. The women cherish me as Himself's favored woman. It's a hard concept to verbalize, but in this dog eat dog world, my servitude to Malcolm as his sub puts his stamp on me whether or not he is present in the room, and I am wrapped in a cocoon of his making even when he cannot be with me. It is the most wonderful and loved feeling I have ever known.

He was ravenous last night. And he was incredible. When he began to play, the kilt came off, convenient as it was, and he was unstoppable. I love to watch him as he is so breathtakingly beautiful. His lithe lean body movements are so fluid, so graceful. And I love to see those women clutch the bed sheets, and moan, and scream. I love to see them amazed at the power of the first orgasm, surprised at the intensity of the second, and a little scared by the third and possibility of more. I love to see them beg for time out, and then sit up and look at him a little dazed. I especially love to see when he decides he's going to fuck them. He'll roll the condom on, struggling if it's not a Magnum, and then enter them in one steady and firm downstroke until his balls slap their ass. Then he'll roll into them, undulating like a belly dancer, and I know what that feels like, how that cock rubs up against every conceivable spot in your pussy, and how the sensation is overwhelming. When he begins to power thrust the moaning begins and he'll crook his hand at me sometimes to come over and kiss him, or lick their clit, or rub them or just come closer so that he can have his hand on His sub.

I'm allowed to pick and choose who I'll play with, so long as I'm available to him at any moment. He likes to stop for a break and watch me. He says he feels the same about me as I do about him, and he finds me beautiful when I am doing what it is that I do. He loves watching me suck cock and will encourage me on, asking the recipient if he likes what he is feeling. He loves to watch me fuck, but he especially looks forward to watching me cum. He will stop whatever he is doing when he hears me cumming, will stop and look for me and he will get so hard and aroused to see me squirt for another man, or hear me scream in orgasm. He also knows when I'm faking with someone, and will come to rescue me, immediately. My punishment for faking is to have him command me to cum, and he will be relentless with me until I cum for real, several times.

Last night I got to enjoy so much bisexual play. It was my joy to have my girlfriend sit over my mouth and let me lick her while Malcolm first ate me, then fucked me, bareback, for all to see him claiming me as his own. That moment in time was burned into my memory, and will serve to get me off several times this week. We didn't get to do any of our hardcore play afterwards. Malcolm had a long drive back, and I talked to him for a good portion of it to help him stay awake. I actually cut our phone conversation short because I was getting choked up. I hate being apart from him. Call me a baby, but his removing my sub gear, and releasing me makes me cry. I didn't want him to go although I understood why. The depth of his love for me, however, humbled me to the point of tears, and I didn't want him to hear me sniffling and start feeling bad. He captured my heart even tighter this weekend, and he knows.

I was very lucky to have a couple stay with me thru the night, both to cuddle with and to fuck. I was well satisfied, and satisfied them well. LOL, but Malcolm and I are unfinished, and I am looking forward to being in his bed again so he can mark me.