Creativity

So this is max's adventure. He is quite the creative slut.

First the afternoon was started off with a good cleaning

of the hole a slut like him needs to use to please me.

Yes, the bag was nice and full... but it is okay, he asked me so nicely for this.

Just breath and relax... I said... you will be just fine.

Then a few clothespins in a very tender spot.

Three on each of those freshly shaved balls.

Ahhhh... then the really creative part... this is his newly designed sex toy.

A condom and max was all rady to get fucked, or rather to fuck himself on it.

And in the end max begged me to finish, and I was very generous

because he was quite a good boy... even cleaned up the mess he made.

Well That Was Fun

Some girls give the best pedicures.

And hubby needs to watch out for metal bits. Might chip a tooth.


An impromptu dinner party.
Things got fun and interesting,
luckily we all (there were seven of us
having a good time)
were upstairs in the restaurant.

Questions to Ask...

A few self imposed questions to ask myself after last night's very fun munch.


Did I really need the fourth glass of wine?

Was the fifth glass of wine an even worse choice?

Why is my thumb still numb after I let Dove bite me?

Was signing my credit card slip Miss Honey the best idea?

Was leaving the card for the Gang Bang party that someone handed me in with my credit card slip an even worse choice?

Do I now have a long blond hair fetish or is it just a girl petting fetish? But I mean come on, she had very pretty hair and she nearly purred when she got pet.

Why do my feet smell like grapefruit? Oh, wait, I know the answer to that one. Mmmmm... foot massage by a sweet girl. :) Nice they gave us the private room at the restaurant.

Did we entirely scare the new boy who asked... what's a flogger?

Good Morning

He stood at the bathroom mirror, shaving cream on his cheeks, razor slowly scraping it off in long deliberate strokes. Steam rose up from the water in the sink. I walked up behind him, wound my arms around his torso. I leaned against his back and breathed in the scent of him. Hot, wet, man. I ran my hands down his chest while pulling him tighter to me. The curves of him fitting against the curves of me. My hand moved lower now to the soft curls there just above and as I tugged at them gently I nipped at his shoulder. Then lower still to that which now grew hard and harder still.

And the steam rose up from the water in the sink and the clean fresh scent of the shaving cream tickled at my sense of smell and the curves fit to curves as I wound my way around to the front and he lifted me up to the counter. He leaned in then to me and wrapped me up with wet hands and his wet face touched mine as the kiss took my breath away as with aching ease he slipped inside. One hand on his shoulder, nails scoring deeper than they should and one hand behind me against the mirror, legs wrapped round.

And the steam rose up from the water in the sink, and the smell of fresh, clean, hot, wet man was intoxicating.

Shall We Dance....

Wedding Present

Painted for a young couple about to get married.

Yes, that is the bride.

It is so nice to know such kinky people.

Makes getting creative so much fun.

MFM - Touched by Sunlight

She sat still and quiet on the impossibly hard pew. She could feel each of the five welts that cut across her skin from thigh to the curve of her buttocks. She arched just a little trying to find relief for the white hot burning that simply sitting was causing. That he made her come to church this morning and sit for these hours was a punishment worse than the initial beating with the hickory cane. Ezra stood in front of the congregation preaching of wickedness, the damnations of purgatory and the fires of hell. She thought then that perhaps she was already in purgatory as she shifted slightly and felt the burning start anew.

She was alone on the small pew. Ezra did not allow others near her unless he was standing guard. He did not want anyone influencing her with their weak or wicked morals. Speaking to that man in the mercantile while Ezra ordered new hymnals had earned her the burning welts. So she suffered alone and in silence as his voice filled her with shame and dread. Then he said from there beneath the stained glass in front of the church for them all to kneel in prayer. She was relieved to shift from the hard bench, but dreaded the time she would now spend on her knees. Ezra's prayers for their souls could take so very long.

Her head was bowed, her hands clenched in a tight ball in front of her, her knees now hurt more than those lines raised across her backside. She rocked forward to try and find relief and pressed against the low back of the pew in front of her, pressing her hands against her most wicked of places, as he called it that first night. Her eyes flew open at this. What was that feeling that was suddenly stronger than the pain in her knees or the pain in her bottom? She rocked again back towards her heals and then pushed forward and pressed her thighs, her belly and her clenched in a ball hands tight against her. Her eyes fluttered a bit. Ezra droned on and on about evil and torments of the soul. Her breath came a little faster, she rocked again pressing her bottom against the back edge of the pew behind her, feeling the pain there as the welts from Ezra's beating radiated a warmth that seemed to grow and grow, and then forward again feeling the pain in her knees that seemed to flow up into her thighs in a way that was somehow was and was not pain anymore. And then pressed again against that seat back in front of her. She took one more ragged breath before holding it. She looked up above the pulpit, above Ezra, to the top of the stained glass window and in that moment a single shaft of sunlight shown down through a beautiful pane of rose colored glass, down past all of Ezra's words of evil and wrong and lit her face, and she shuddered and cried out.

Minister Samuel looked down from the pulpit at his beautiful, young wife, her head again bowed, hanging low, the sunlight haloing her exceptional pureness. Her cry of Hallelujah at the exact right place in his prayer had pleased him. Perhaps she was not as evil as he had first feared.

_________________

Written for MicroFantasy Monday at the Sweltering Celt.

Waxed

She was the third girl on the table at the party.

A large blue tarp had been laid on the floor of the den. The table from the patio the boys had maneuvered into the house and onto the tarp. The thick red vinyl sheet was put on top of the table. Several of the sub girls were very busy in the kitchen melting candles and paraffin and crayons. It looked a bit like a mad scientists laboratory as they had numerous pots on the stove, double boiler style and the microwave sizzling. Stirring up colored concoctions and giggling a bit maniacally. Let me just say, sub girls who get to torture and tease their fellow sub girls can be more evil and devious than any dominant.

Wax play is an interesting combination of sensual, pain, pleasure, tease, erotic... and about half a dozen other descriptions during the act. The sounds of both pain and pleasure co-mingle in very enticing ways. Three girls stripped down there in the den and climbed up on the table one at a time and allowed just about everyone to have a bit of erotic fun with their eager and willing bodies.

Yes, that is me in the pink polka-dot apron. I had on a pretty white blouse and believe me colored wax was getting everywhere. I rather liked the juxtaposition of the sweet-cute apron and my evil intentions while pouring the wax on the girl. Oh, and we would have loved to torture and tease a boy, but somehow couldn't convince one to jump up on the table.

I think perhaps it was the removing the wax that was nearly more intoxicating than dripping it on. Well, it may be a tie... that moment when she cried out as an entire ladle full was splashed onto bare pussy was quite exquisite. But in stripping the wax from naked bodies there was a connection, a touch, a tug, a pull and that was lovely. Running my nails down a thigh covered in blue and red wax, watching as the wax pulled away and pink flesh was again exposed was intoxicating.

It was a pleasure of a party. There was an energy in the room that was infectious. A sense of naughty fun that got hearts racing, people laughed and moan, people smiled and gasped. That was all so wonderful. I do so adore all my friends, especially each one of those three girls who jumped up on the table.

New paint...

Work has been busy, life has been busy.

But... gotta stop once in a while for a luxury you enjoy.

Butt for a Friend