image by/of missmeretrix
Things that were awesome about the fetish event last night:
Things that were not awesome about the fetish event last night:
Moral of the story:
Boys ruin everything.
If people you find wildly attractive are kind enough to let you watch them engage in sexual activity PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD JUST KEEP YOUR DAMNED MOUTH SHUT AND DON’T RUIN IT!
The wedding was lovely but also kinda snooty, lots of conservative uptight wealthy people, or as my husband says “not really our crowd”.
Sitting in the chapel I whispered to him that I wanted to sneak back in during the reception to snap a quick saucy picture. He immediately saw my vision. Throughout the night we scoped out our plan, checking if the coast was clear, sussing out the best possible approach. (It gave us something to do for entertainment, really, I still wasn’t sure we would go through with it.)
Right as everyone was sitting down for speeches we quietly slipped out. We quickly snapped a picture, as planned, in the chapel. It’s perfect, and I’ll share it with you tomorrow, it’s more of a Sunday kinda thing.
And then he kissed me in the shadows in the quiet sacred room and when he pulled me close I felt his hardness through his suit, fucking hell he looks good in a suit. I pretended to be shocked but he was raised religious and this kind of thing pushes all of his buttons. We fucked, my dress pulled up and my panties pulled to the side and him dressed his best and unzipped.
Afterwards we straightened up and steadied our breath and our giggles. We left the chapel, rejoined the festivities, proud of our accomplishments.
Champagne is yummy.
I love weddings.
So I was thinking of starting a little game…. will you play with me Tumbl Buddies?
Click here to submit. Pretty please? I promise to reward you with something cheeky.
Beautiful image by quietlittlenympho
He wishes he could see how pretty she looked fucking his ass.
She says if he’s good he’ll get to watch in the mirror next time;
For now he can use his imagination.
I realised, as I walked into Rumi’s kitchen and took off my dress, that I spent too much time in my early twenties looking at my sexuality as something I needed to define and pin down. Like the key was to figure out the exact combination of words and labels to describe my sexual preference and proclivities, then I could own it and celebrate it and answer everyone’s questions neatly and I would be complete.
What I’ve learned is that it’s a journey, and it’s not about defining it, it’s about experiencing it… my sexuality, it’s nuanced and versatile and so is yours. As I change and grow as a person I crave different things, I have new curiosities, new desires. Different things push my buttons, my fantasies change as I experience more of the world and learn more about myself.
All this to say that as I stood between them in my lingerie while their cocks throbbed in their jeans I wasn’t hung up on any of it. I savoured every minute, I owned every second of pleasure. I felt powerful on my knees in between them, teasing them so slowly with my tongue, making them patiently wait their turn while I gave the other what he wanted.
There was no shame in the way I worshipped their cocks, or the way I let them use me afterwards. Just pure unadulterated joy.
My husband went to wash up and grab another beer, Rumi and I were laying head-to-toe in his bed.
I was still in my stockings and garter belt, which were thoroughly soaked from my orgasms and theirs.
Rumi ran his hands over my legs and sighed. I asked him if he’d like to take them off, he smiled. He reached up to the garter and I showed him how to unhook the first one. He undid the other three and slowly slid my stockings, one at a time, down each leg, peeling them off to reveal my silky smooth legs. He kissed them, gliding his fingertips over the curve of my calves and the backs of my knees, he pressed his lips against my toes and said “You know… I don’t have a thing for feet… but yours are really sexy.”