Orgasm Permitted. -The Husband

So, the Masochist says to the Sadist, "Hurt me." Calmly replies the Sadist, "No."

A recent innovation to my cunnilingus repertoire (limited though it may be) was orgasm denial. A bisexual friend of mine had explained it thusly: "Pay attention to when she is right on the edge of orgasm and then back off what you are doing. Give a little more- , let her taste the feeling, then back off again, and so on." The idea is that if you get her really pliable the lightest touch sends her over the edge and you guide her along the precipice for one long orgasmic wave. If this effort fails it is because she falls over that knife edge and has a massive orgasm, so either way, win-win.

The first time I tried this, she said during (AND after), "That's MEAN!" I explained the concept, leaving her unimpressed as she is multiply and easily orgasmic, so she couldn't see the point. She already surfs orgasmic waves without any science fair experiments thank you very much. It should be noted that on the previous occasion when the experiment 'failed' it was because of heightened sensitivity that caused a arch up off the bed massive orgasm, so no hot wives were harmed in the testing.

Tonight I was lewdly reaching under her skirt as she was attempting some graphic design work, I asked her what she was in the mood for tonight. "Orgasm denial," she blushingly said. "I thought you said that was mean." pressing the issue making it her desire, as images of her on her knees taped to a spreader bar, head down screaming into a pillow played through my mind. She verbalized it to may satisfaction about the time I got her panties around her ankles.

Well, I got the screaming into a pillow part right.

We snatched a few minutes of stolen time from the small one. I knew I hadn't the time to immobilize her. I simply told her to assume the position in my mind and to pretend she is bound. She did as she was told and I gave her a "Good Girl" as I lifted the skirt to expose her swollen lips and a very spankable ass. More on that later.

Wetting my fingertip, I traced the outlines of her labia like paint by number art. not exactly sure where I was going here, just looking to make her squirm while insisting she hold still. She did well, and was quite aroused as I traced her slit and opened and probed her petals, deliberately avoiding the places I know to be where she most needs it. She didn't seem frustrated, but I was getting a bit so myself, with a firm erection in my flannel pajamas still lazily attired in since the night before, no underwear to holster it, always feels a little silly to have a pole bobbing and tottering between one's legs.

I could resist no longer the urge to spank her up-turned ass, and smacked it a medium swat. She wriggled into it. I started slow, little swats, tattooing a pattern of even coverage of pink. I find she can take much more pain if the capillaries are already broken and spreading their sub-cutaneous endorphins. One swat on her now somewhat bony portion of her ass elicited a smile from her. Not that it did anything specific for her at that time, but because it was yet another affirmation to herself of the weight she has lost/ At some point as I ramped up the intensity on her right cheek, continuing to neglect the left, I remarked that her ass was stinging my hand a bit, and what did she think I should do about that? She suggested I find an implement to do some of the work for me. "Agreed", I said, "but what?", making her choose. "The belt," she said.

I by this time had my hard cock out pressed against her as I leaned over to hiss coarsely in her ear. Your hand is hot she said, I explained that was heat radiating from my cock pressing it into her side, lance-like. I explained that hurting her was getting me extremely aroused. "How sick is that?" I inquired. "Very sick," she said dripping with lust. I told her she could touch herself while I looked for the belt . (I had anticipated that might take a while. It didn't, but that didn't stop the slut from cumming twice before I got with in range again. SMACK, I said with the tip of the belt. "I didn't say," Smack! "to cum!"

Orgasm denial be dammed, I wasn't denying any of mine! I pressed my tip to her sheath and was annoyed she wasn't wetter. She truly has a Pavlovian response to cock-sucking. She hadn't sucked me at all here so her bell didn't ring I guess. ~shrug~ Pressing the issue, and my cock further I found that in fact that she had plenty of moisture stored in her, I just had to get past her dry, quivering lips. Maybe since she generally kneels to perform fellatio, i just drips from her drenched cunt. Here, I had gravity working against me. Lesson learned, I plunged on, now almost too wet. I considered pulling out and having her lick some of that excess pussy juice, but that seemed circular reasoning, as it would likely get her wetter. I just increased the length of each stroke coming farther out so as to air dry my cock a bit.

I watched fascinated as the two smacks on her right side revealed themselves perfect impressions of the slight taper of my belt's tip. I looked at her unblemished left side and decide to paint there a bit. Being right handed I pulled out so I could get a better angle and concentrate on my work. I gave her three stripes in quick succession starting at the bottom and working up. Unintended it looked like a feathered pattern of a birds wing like one of those eagle tattoos bikers like. Thrilled at my marksmanship, I got out the camera to take a picture, meanwhile she was masturbating from underneath, unbidden, I haven lost track of and all control of the very submissive I was currently beating. This kids, epitomizes ADHD. I told her if she was going to persist in that she needed to at least count off her orgasms.

"How many so far?" I asked, ever keeping score as men tend to do. "I don't know..." she trailed off.

Reaching for a hank of hair at the base of her neck I pulled her face around. "What do you mean , "you don't know"? You were there?" I chided. "How many?"

.............................."Five, I think..."

"You think?" I said tightening my grip. "It's f FIVE!" she corrected herself. "

"Well count them off, then." I said realizing about now that I was doing exactly the opposite of what she had asked for...hence the joke at the top. "I will allow you one minute to reach each". I added needing to maintain some sort of semblance of being in charge of this train wreck of a BDSM session.

Back to my work, I didn't let her distract my aim when in quick succession I hear "6, SEVVVIN..." Losing interest in her orgasms entirely (she doesn't actually need me there, ~shrug~) I watched as over thinking it made the pattern I had in mind a little off. Kinda like how even the best basketball player can miss the mark at the free throw line. I, a novice at swinging a belt, resolved simply that I will do better next time I have a fresh unmarked canvass to work with.
It turned out pretty cool I thought to myself quite geekishly, dunno yet how the pictures turned out.

I don't really remember much about how it is that I came to be fucking her missionary style looking at the glazed look of pain and satisfaction in her eyes, but I do remember that I did have a handful of hair twisted through my fist when I pumped out my own singular orgasm.

I'll make it up to her the next time she asks me, "Make me cum?"

The Inaugral Fellatio Friday is Here!

Long admirer's of The Felatrix...We of course jumped on the chance to submit some posts to her first ever (of many to come) Fellatio Friday. We thought it was such a grand Idea that we each submitted posts for consideration. It just hit and our traffic count is through the roof...

Here are the posts from all the participants:

Fellatio Friday #1

Here is Fellatio Friday #1, your gateway to hot and spicy blowjob-related posts as submitted to The Fellatrix by their authors. To join the fun and contribute to Fellatio Friday #2, please read the Fellatio Friday participation instructions. Here are this week's submissions:

All This Jew Wants to Do is Blow YOU for Christmas, by a Slutty Wife.

the start of my secret kink/fetish, at My Cock.

Now It’s Face To Face (Delight Part II), by Dirty Debbie.

Just the Head ... from Ambient Storm's Provocative Persiflage

How to Get a Discount, by Jen at Dirty Couple in Virginia

One of my Finer Blowjobs, by The Fellatio Artist at Full Contact Monogamy

Phoebes Guide to Oral Sex, by Phoebe at www.astr.org

First Fellatio, by The Geek at Full Contact Monogamy

Tip #4, from Blowjob Babe at Stroke, Struck, Swallow

That First Tingle of Attraction is Delicious - The Geek

The look returned, the click of a pair of heels, the swish of a skirt, the pout of a lip, the word read, the wonderment of what promise that person holds. I was thinking about this tonight as I played a silly little word association game. There were few people on, and a relatively new poster was posting. I know nothing of her at all, not the most minimal of description. SO far I see only that she likes soulful music and uses soft and gentle terms when associating terms on a suggestive thread. Not much to go on, but still a little tension, drawn taut makes one feel electric doesn't it?

Next when that person took their sleepy self to bed I meandered through other threads till I happened upon a thread of a person probably on the other end of the age spectrum that I have long admired. I happened to have something to say on the subject and in a whimsical mood, posted a Seuss-esq response. When it seemed to elicit a giggle I pressed on with more rhyme then a haiku. I found myself wanting praise for my sophomoric poetry. Here the attraction is her rapier wit and better, her smiling at mine.

It makes me think of what would have attracted me to my wife, my soul mate if we had met 17 years later and online instead of in "real life". Without question her quick mind, sense of humor and mad typing skills. There is a thread where you drop a letter and add a letter creating a new word. I play with her over her shoulder. Not only does she solve the puzzle faster than I, she can often link the word to the previous word in some other way. How sexy is that? Then there is the whole open-minded thing. Not every woman, nor even every bi-sexual woman is going to "get" the sexuality of a heterosexual crossdresser. She is open enough to people that i can easily see confiding such a thing to her (if I had known it about myself) while still strangers. Then there is that flirtatious nymphosity...what more could a man want?

No Wonder, I Woke Up Sticky! - The Geek

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Sugasm #111

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Cam Testing 1-2-3.... The Husband.

So, we bought a cheap web cam the other day....Scintillo happened to be on when I was fiddling with it figuring it out. Given that the wife was sans make-up but with cold sore and so not in the mood, I kept it trained on the bedspread. He got treated to a lovely view of the spread and was kind enough to confirm that yup its a cam. Not bad $30 for two in the clearance at Mart du Wal.

Next attempt was as mentioned below I met an extremely articulate girl that must have had phenomenal S.A.T. scores which seemed exactly the right sort of fit for a text intensive watch-us-on cam session. My wife didn't know whether I was serious or not, but went along with it in role play fashion as we pictured what this girl might be like in person. Neither of us have so much as a picture or even a description of her, but I find her compelling. The intensity of the role play combined with having the girl waiting and willing in the background like our own personal porn star fluffer meant I didn't last long enough to explain to her I was very much serious about having found us a young sprite.

By way of background as to why she never knows for sure just when I am serious, I have a way of crying wolf, well and actually making wolfish noises in the background. I delight in surprising her or even better getting her adrenaline up for a surprise she isn't quite ready for. Once for example I rented a room at the very hotel that I lost my virginity in for our one year anniversary. I pretended that we were just going to go there to eat a piece of our frozen wedding cake as tradition dictates. I had previously left our room open a crack and making out in the hall with her, I leaned against our door and pretended it had just come open and it was not actually our room, she protested but only mildly when I drug her over to the bed, saying lets just have a quickie as long as this room is empty.

Another time we had been role playing a threesome. I tied her up then told her hang on a minute, and pretended to sneak to the door, let someone in and spoke in hushed whispers to them, she almost bought that one.

So the next day, my linguistically gifted new friend was online at the same time as a blogger we have met online recently, the blogger's husband was dragging her away from the computer for some cunnilingus which seemed a fine way to spend the afternoon. I persuaded my wife to pawn off the toddler. She was not feeling primped and ready for her close-up so I didn't push until she was in the throes, then I reached for the cam..It wasn't there!! I persuaded her to masturbate while I looked for the missing cam and finally came up with it. Switching it on with a hurried hello to my friend I treated her to a very blurry, barely discernible fuck-fest that at least appeared to be flesh toned. Made a note to dig up a tripod.

Today, I was online with an exhibitionist friend and the blogger from the day before. I mentioned that I'd show both of them my cock except I was babysitting and that seemed inappropriate to say the least. They both expressed enthusiasm. when next my wife wandered into the room I asked if she wouldn't mind if she took the toddler so I could show them my dick..Yeah right, she said. Partly because what an audacious thing to ask ones wife, but mostly she knows "The Mighty Cudgel" is camera shy. WHen I assured her that I was actually serious, and that I thought it might be good masturbatory therapy, she acceded. I'm a little dumbfounded that a) I could ask such a thing, and b) that she would acquiesce.

SO well, I did, like a stallion...I think the camera must be slightly convex, or else I was awfully excited...afterward, when she pointed out the incongruent nature of me being able to rip one off on cam while feeling silly with her in person. We discussed maybe I should do a close circuit feed for her. Yes, it is beyond weird, but we are pushing the psychological frontiers of my tortured psyche. So back in the room and alone, I found that I felt not silly at all. She tells me for 16-17 years that I have a lovely cock and it takes a couple of strangers echoing the sentiment to internalize it. So I'm going at it she is cheating by teasing my balls and perineum and I am OH so close despite having just tossed one off, and the kids knock on the door wanting to drop the needy toddler back in our laps...oh well anothe time. Important thing is I CAN do it another time.

So cam, $30. Doing more good than years of therapy, $Priceless.

Playing with Fire. - The Husband

She said, "...that begs a psych evaluation." I have had a few of those, the most thorough being the on-going self-evaluation. I was always precocious and read everything I could get my hands on on every subject imaginable. At some point I developed an interest in serial killers. By interest, I meant dawning horror that I had nearly all the harbingers of one.

The triad of precursor behaviors seems to be universally agreed to be bed-wetting, fire starting, and cruelty to animals. We had no pets. Demeaning, shaming mother who berated me about the bed-wetting? Check. Experience with creating conflagrations? Check. To this day I have a fascination with pyrotechnics. Any form of ignition source, fuel, containment device was tried with the fervor of Edison looking for tungsten. The missing component was cruelty. Never had any interest in it. I was never sure if I just had no grudge against animals, or was just too squeamish. I could handle dissection in honors biology class, but it wasn't a prurient thrill. Always an under-acheiver, I had better hands and a sharper mind than my younger brother who is a surgeon now.

My bitch of a mother who tended to couch her abuse in pyscho-babble terms like "Its a power struggle" (No, you are pulling my hair, or hitting me with a bat...or...) or quaint predictions like, "look how a boy treats his (bitch of a) mother and you will see how he treats his wife." So I fretted. I had more matricidal urges tan Stewie Griffen, but I stayed my hand. Still I worried that there was some latent hostility. Serial killers often lash out at innocent victims that take the place of the deserving of their wrath. I kept my anger focused on my mother.

I met a girl once. CUTE. Father owned a major car dealership. She kept violating my personal space. So I killed her. Wait, no, I didn't. Once she, for reasons that baffle me, kept poking me in the ribs. It started as a tickle but grew to be annoyingly painful. I have a high pain threshold, but I don't enjoy it. I finally just looked at her and said, Enough. She backed up with a nervous giggle and said, ooo, I can tell you're the type that will grow up to beat your wife. How right she was, apparently.

Buried in an early post here is this bit about the first time I beat my girlfriend (now wife):

I EAGERLY tied her wrists together and then over head to one side of the headboard. I teased and tickled until to my shock, she asked me to spank her. "Harder!" she urged when my first tentative slap only warmed her bottom, but didn't sting. It took quite a few swats each incrementally harder until I was rewarded with a then strange, but now familiar glazed look of her reaching another place. I was so turned on by this and horrified in a small compartmentalized portion of my mind that I was hitting a woman and really getting off on it. The fact that it was consensual, encouraged and effective entered into my thinking not at all. As she hoarsely whispered her encouragement and said something to the effect that "you like that don't you?" , instinct went somewhere I couldn't have known about. Very carefully deciding exactly how hard would be attention-grabbing, but not so far that she would want to quit this game of chicken, I slapped her across the face. It was almost out of body and definitely out of character for me. I almost came from that, and I think she might have.

So I was disturbed, and aroused. Then, and now. Some of my fears seemed to be realized when I found myself creeping in the night, Boo Radley on the prowl. I read psychology especially as it related to pathologies. I recognized that voyeurism is a gateway behavior and actually went so far as to seek professional help. So you see, the thing that disturbs me about spanking her ass in the manner it so richly deserves is not the kinky thrill of seeing her yearn for it, its that maybe, just maybe I like it too much. We never called them 'scenes' when I reached into a dark place and looked though her in ways that sends a shiver through her. She reports that she can see a visible change, that I go someplace, and that there is an edge in my eyes. At first this bothered me, then I practiced it. Not to the point that it becomes an affectation, but just learning to accept the delicious quench of dipping briefly into a pool of sadism.

The 27 Year Old Virgin. - The Geek

Sitting here tonight watching "The 40 Year Old Virgin, we laughed at the movie, but as much more at the recognition. Although to really be us, Andy would have to have married Beth.

The scene at the end where Andy lasts all of one minute, but is immediately able to go again is exactly how our wedding night went. We barely managed to stay for the reception with smiles and glazed looks of lust in our eyes. We did something really smart about the honeymoon. We had a room downtown near a University for the wedding night with plane reservations to Cancun scheduled for the next morning. Decent room but I remember little but maybe the bedspread I laid her across. As soon as we could politely leave we fled, straight to the room.

Friends of ours had gifted us some sparkling apple juice, crystal stemware and a basket of fruit-flavored pussy sundae fixings. I poured the beverage, which being non-alcoholic loosened me up not at all. I was, however, giddy with anticipation. I slipped her out of her the dress she wore from the reception to reveal some really hot bridal lingerie that I had helped her pick out. A long-line bra, a garter belt, crotchless panties, seamed white stockings a white garter, and kinky satin covered 4" stiletto pumps with pearl chains under the arch. Seeing the exposed pussy was by now familiar territory, as we hadn't been as good as I had hoped for during a fairly long engagement. I dove in head first and had her writhing when I remembered the basket of treats. I stopped (being the clueless nerd that I was) and opened a jar of cherry topping. Smearing a generous dollop I dove in headfirst like the fat kid at an eating contest. As mentioned, she is easily orgasmic so my fairly clumsy attempts brought her to orgasm a time or two undoubtedly.

Not really sure how I made the transition from cunnilingus to intercourse, but I adjudged her sufficiently ready. I dropped my pants and clumsily mounted her. I rutted like a virgin in a whorehouse, cumming just about as quickly. I think I managed at least 3, maybe 5 strokes, she remembers 2. She had the biggest smile on her face as she thanked me for my cherry flavored cherry. I asked her if it was worth the wait. "No" she responded, "we could have been fucking for months!" She cleaned the cherry sauce off my chin, her ear, and did the best she could running a brush through her sticky hair. With a cheesy smile on my face and a smug one on hers we walked hand in hand across the street to a landmark of kitschy 'Italian' hyperbole. I think I had the baked spaghetti with Italian sausage. I was feeling carnivorous and needed to carbo-load. (I don't think I mentioned previously but I had been a distance runner, lots of stamina so she had high hopes for round two.) I over-tipped, the share the wealth joy of the newly-laid

Round two went better. Though no stallion, I was making incremental progress on duration and technique.

Over-tipped the cabbie, managed to keep my cock in my pants the whole 5 miles to the airport.

We managed to be fairly chaste on the first leg of the flight but there was lots of giggling sexy whispers about the mile high club and asking for a blanket. After a lot of sexual tension and ear-play in the Houston Airport on a brief non-lay-over we boarded the next leg. On the next flight we conspired to meet in the lavatory. She went first, and I joined her moments later, fooling no one. Despite two previous deliveries in the previous 12 hours or so, I came through again in fairly short order he perched with one leg up on the sink, me entering her standing up. Wet as she was combined with the remnants of a decade and a half of seminal fluid back-up made enough fluid to attract the attention of gravity and we actually left a bit of a slippery spot on the floor.

I left first and could see the coming problem, there was a line formed...oops. I muttered, she isn't feeling well... She joined me later red-faced..."You left me to face those people!!!!"


We stayed at the Marriot's Casa Magna Resort. A place we really couldn't afford then and certainly not now. Marble floors exactly like in the movie. Fresh towels to guard against the jungle humidity were delivered several times a day...we used them all. By the third day, her abused pussy was swollen. I had a lot of fucking to catch up on. I was determined that by the time we got home the majority of her sexual history would be with my cock buried to the hilt in her. I came close. By the third day, I was going down the hall for ice. Not for the beverages. She actually had to ice it down! I never felt such a stud before, or since.

First Fellatio - The Geek

When we met, it was clear to both of us that she was more experienced. Never a shy girl, she was a friendly and giving girl. Knowing they would like it, she liked doing it, and was remarkably libertine about it. She started young and enjoyed something about each of the lucky cocks she fellated in preparation of the first time she blew me.

With me, she was amazed at how long it took me to kiss her, and when I finally did she was reasonably impressed. As a virgin with a limited set of acceptable expressions for affection I had a fair amount of practice at that. We were mutually smitten. She was used to being sexually attractive. I, not so much. I wanted us to "be good". She wanted us to enjoy each other, but not if there were to be regrets. She was patient with my reticence, if a bit frustrated.

What a pair we made. Me, a repressed, guilt-ridden, chronically-masturbating, virginal sex-addict. She, a free-spirited, cock-sucking, cum-swallowing, cheerful, friendly, nymphomaniac.

The first time her lips caressed the head of my cock was electric.

Making out on her ugly green couch, I ground away, dry humping. My raging manhood clawed its way past the waistband of my jockeys and through unbuttoned 501's. I headed north and pressed the head of my cock just below her breasts. Rubbing her sternum seemed in my distorted reality to be less sexual then say, titty-fucking.

Her lips parted in shock to see my cock headed in the direction of her thirsty mouth She later reported thinking: "Oh My..he's really going to do this...." I was thinking I wouldn't and would stop short. Turns out she was right.

I found her mouth too inviting. I advanced until I was tantalizingly (for both of us!) within range of her tongue. It darted out and, quick as a flash, my oral cherry was devoured. That first time, delicious. I had no idea, however, the delights that would have awaited me if I had let her kneel and control the position, the timing, the cadence, the depth...

Oh my the depth. Have I mentioned that my wife can deep-throat like a pro? Amazing to see 6-7 inches of dick, encircled by lips, caressed by back of the tongue and then.... with a wiggle and a gasp.... it sliding slightly curved down the back of her throat. She chins me like an athlete touching the bar , or touching his chest to the pavement.

That first time was tentative, soft, wet licks. Careful not to scare her skittish quarry. I hesitant. Not knowing the details then of her history. Uncertain if in the cold light of morning she would feel regret. As she finally eased her mouth around the head, my few polite thrusts and she was tenderly milking my nectar. The cat in cream smile on her face said a lot.

Does Your Wife Enjoy Fellatio? - The Geek

Recently she was the top of Google for "Is wife enjoying fellatio?" Apparently, not many husband's have wondered this. Google reports only 47,000 possible entries for this query. Interestingly, many entries were about a wife who did not enjoy or would not perform this loving ritual.

What's the secret for getting my wife to enjoy sucking my cock? Sadly, I don't have one. She just does. That she enjoys fellatio, I have confidence in. It's hard to gauge the strength of her pleasure when I 'enjoy cunnilingus'. She moans and mewls appreciatively but still, not with the enthusiasm with which she accepts the gift of my cock when I drop trou and guide the head towards her eager mouth. She makes me feel like I am dipped in chocolate and it makes her wet.

We have a little inside joke if she is not quite ready. "We need more foreplay!" By foreplay we mean I merely have to lay back and enjoy the tongue lashing. This often made me feel a little selfish, but not so much so that I was going to yank her by the hair off my cock.

Most wouldn't believe me, "My wife gets wet from giving head!" Her obsession may have hindered her ability to truly enjoy cunnilingus. Yes, we have tried sixty-nine. She prefers to concentrate on giving the pleasure and considers the pussy worship to be an interruption to her art. She is delightfully single minded about it during her cock worship. When we take turns, she always enjoys it. In a sense though she's just waiting for her turn to reciprocate.

I love my cock sucking wife.

Left Brain Thoughts. - The editor

The Cobbler's children have no shoes." Recently commenting on Z's blog : "My words are like my children, I have too many of both."

I see great stories on the web, that need a little word smithing. I can see in their posts where to pare down to the essentials. I, the cobbler don't shoo (sic) my progeny.

I have always written as I think, then later worry about clarity, brevity & grammar. I want to revisit prior posts in a form easier to digest. I may lift some gems from my wife's also into a "best of" post as her writing is already pretty crisp.

My first try cut one 1550 word post into only the two following posts, one of 280 words and one of 500.

The first web mention of one of our posts...

... and its by FleshBot!

Sex Blogs

Sex Blog Roundup: Holiday Grab Bag Edition

It seems like everything is about making lists this time of year: wish lists, gift lists, shopping lists, grocery lists ... the lists go on. But why do we spend so much time anticipating our wants? Here's what we all could use: someone else to do the thinking for us. In today's roundup of some of our favorite moments from the sex blog scene this week, our stalwart Santas have searched high and low to bring you this grab bag of sexy choices. Lights on or off? Cock packed or passed over? In private or for an audience, au natural or enhanced? Here's hoping you get what you really, really want.

Close your eyes and reach inside with Always Aroused Girl and Jefferson after the jump.

Sex Blog Roundup

by Always Aroused Girl and Jefferson

- - -

Do I Pack Daily?

Multiple people have asked me how often I pack, lately.

The short answer is: no, I don't pack daily.

The longer answer is . . . I seem to be packing more and more often. Since I got my hands on that fabulous packing cock, it's been easier to pack discreetly and comfortably, so I've done it increasingly.

I used to pack only when I had a hot date and having sex was a possibility; that began changing six or so months ago, when I began packing occasionally when going out, just for the boost of cock confidence.

- Sugarbutch Chronicles

- - -

Lights Out

So last night I wanted to re-live a little of the plain old make-out session time. I hadn't specifically planned anything vis-à-vis the lighting scheme. I had only resolved to leave the rope, the duct tape, the belt, and the kink put away, and just kiss, for as long as I could without leading anywhere else. I wasn't going to resist any advances she might be inspired to make, but I would be chaste, I resolved. Out of the shower, teeth brushed, I killed the distraction of the TV and when I flipped off the bathroom light the whole room was plunged into darkness. Interestingly that seemed to add to setting a new tone. I don't think the lighting level matters in this experiment for a couple, just try something different than you usually do, whatever that is. Unless you are blind in which case maybe write bright or dim slogans on each other in Braille.

- Full Contact Monogamy

- - -

Lines in the Sand

Tossing the brush onto the counter I pulled the shower door open, letting a warm billow of steam out into the room, fogging the mirrors. Nothing like a hot shower to set my mood. I slowly washed my hair while the soap bubbles trailed down my body, over my breasts, down my belly, one catching in my navel, another sliding across my exposed clit, over my thighs. Like sensual fingers tracing across my body. Good behavior, Liz, this one needs some easy handling.

- Liz Wired

- - -

Words Fail

I peeled the lacy black knickers off her, and enjoyed the revelation of the pink of her labia peering out from in between the dark brown of her pubic hair, which is strangely straight and soft in contrast to the thick curls on her head.

Immediately when I touched her pussy with the tip of my tongue, Fifi took my head in her hands, pulled me up and with a great urgency said, "uh-uh, fuck . . . " It was like a sudden realization that the thing she wanted most in the world had to happen right away and could only be described by grunts and one-word requests.

- MonMouth

- - -

Dee's With Dan Right Now

I know she sucks his cock on and off throughout an evening together and is happy to be able to fit most of it inside her mouth, but I don't know what particular positions she uses or what combinations of licking, sucking, and stroking she uses with him. I know they have intercourse in a variety of ways, but I don't know in what order, for how long, and how fast or deep he moves inside her each time.

- Sharing Dee

- - -

Toyland

In the bedroom he undressed me slowly, kissing me harder each time, until we were both naked. He licked my neck and his hand went to between my legs, and I sighed as I felt him stroke my clit, the familiar feeling building and me burying my head against his chest asking him to please make me cum. He smiled and withdrew his hand, saying, "Not yet. We need to see the toys."

- Bridget's Boy(s)

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Unethical

Perhaps the taxi driver sees women with their nakedness covered by fur coats every day of the week in his cab. Perhaps he meets their eye in the mirror, as he met mine, all the time. It's possible that even if he thought he saw such a woman, he would dismiss it as a trick played by hackneyed fantasy. It's conceivable he knew what he saw, and smiled. He could have done more than smile. I smile now, but with a different pleasure, as I'm rolled onto my back. He could have asked to see, the taxi driver.

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From Afar

I must confess, I'm hoping to have you in my mouth and be able to feel my cunt pulsate and tingle at the memory of a recent cataclysmic orgasm.

Your fingers will have opened me to your probing lips and tongue, and joined them to explore the depths of the inner parts of me that I only show to those deserving. Could you feel how hot I felt? How wet I was? How aroused? Didn't you want to slide your whole hand inside me and mercilessly beat a tattoo on my g-spot until I was the one who gushed forth like an overflowing mountain brook?

- The Erotic Journal of Juno Henry

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We are Famous! (ERP??!) - The Husband

I had checked site meter and we were on pace for our usual 100-ish readers a day. The average person stays 4 minutes because some who for example Googled recipes and found themselves here flee in terror, and those that find us Googling "Pussy Pics" ogle the Googled for an hour at times. The average reader clicks 3 pages, again because some flee with burning retinas, some click each enlarged picture of her glistening clit, or click to read each time we mention cunnilingous or Fellatio.

Interestingly for a couple calling ourselves "The Fellatio Artist & The Geek" Pussy Worship remains our most common google hit. I mean I have recently picked up a couple of pointers from a sweet Bi-friend on the subject and have learned to enrapture her sufficiently that she doesn't ALWAYS push me away and gobble my cock, but the blow-jobs outnumber the clit-jobs at least 4 to one around here. Not that I am complaining.

An hour or so ago, site meter went NUTS. For a moment it was almost jammed I couldn't see individual stats at all, but we had a spike of 20 people in like as many minutes. there were 9 on reading at once..(woo-hoo virtual orgy!!). When I finally saw where they were coming from my jaw dropped..I went to tell The Fellatio Artist that we had been picked up by FleshBot. I read Fleshbot and have found some GREAT blogs from them. I am fairly new to blogging in general and don't quite get how different types of blogs work. I see FleshBot as maybe some arm of a publishing house or something. I find places like that intimidating so I read but don't comment since they seem not like"regular folks" of course silly because some regular folks had to write every word one keystroke at a time..(although they undoubtedly use more then the three fingers I use.)

Turns out Always Aroused Girl and Jefferson had written the Holiday Grab Bag Edition of the Sex Blog Round-up on FleshBot and had snipped a bit from a post I did. I read AAG everyday, and know Jefferson only by reputation, I cannot believe how many blogs out there that I read will say, I was talking to Jefferson the other day and he said...that guy seems to know everyone. So, Jefferson, if you read this, Uh, Hi, nice to make your acquaintance, Ive heard so many kinky things about you..:)

The funny thing is it was arguably the tames post on here. Kinda intimidating to realize that people who just read how I had enjoyed some gentle kink-free kissing with my beloved wife, come here and if they get to the main page can see me up to my wrist in her most personal of spaces...oh well.

We started this as a place to put things too salacious for even our online kinky friends, for things to weird for my married crossdresser blog...we weren't sure we would ever give anyone the link. We decided to start making a few comments using this id on various blogs and we just had our 2,000th visitor for what was supposed to be an backwater blog.

One of the hits came from 10 miles away...kinda close...like I said...erp.

Domination With a Straight Face. - The Husband

Being a randy S.O.B. this morning's raunch wasn't enough to sate the beast within. Well I thought it was, until she presented her ass. She got some shoes today from an admirer and was taking a picture of them. To do this, she laid on her back, put her ass within spanking distance in a pair of tight jeans and put her legs in the air against the wall as she took a self picture of the shoes.

Naturally, I spanked her. It sounded good, felt good on my hand and she kind of sidled her butt over for another. I told her to lock the door and strip. She said she had to go downstairs to deal with a pan. Huh? She explained that yet again she had boiled a pan dry with this seasonal spice (nutmeg, allspice, cinnamon) that she simmers on the stove to cover the odor of unwashed dishes and laundry and burned pans. This time it was a pan that was ugly, battered, but serviceable that was left behind by one of th 29 roommates I went through before trading them in for a her. This, a grievous sin indeed. I told her as she attempted (in vain I am sure) to scrub the carbon off the bottom to think of a number of swats that she should receive to atone for the loss of my pan. (Did I mention this is the third one in about as many month?) She said "Zero!" I told her I found her number "unacceptable."

Thinking about spanking her got me very hard indeed. Not something I am proud of, just a physiological reaction to a fetish. When she came in, I told her to strip but put on some panties. She did, (locking the door behind her) and rummaged around for some underwear. She grabbed a floral print boy short. "Unacceptable" I say.. I pulled mine off and had her step into them, and put hers on. "On your knees!" I insisted.

I fucked her face a while then remembered the task at hand. "On the bed, face down, ass in the air." She did, a trace of a bemused smile. I thought the angle looked interesting although no woman's behind is flattered in that pose. Being in an unflattering pose was hot in and of itself, so I took pictures. Unfortunately that was with her camera and I'm betting on deletion. We will see. I opened the blinds to let in some natural light and to give that uneasy feeling that her ass being flogged might be seen by someone.

I had her reach under and masturbate in my panties to give her something to do where I considered angles and lighting. Finally satisfied that I had enough pictures of her ass for later humiliation play, I pulled the panties in for a mild wedge exposing more flesh for the spankin'. Rather than a series of red blotches, I wanted a single distinct handprint. A partial wouldn't do and once I had a partial, there would be no chance of lining up a second so I increased te acceleration of my hand through the air to achieve a terminal velocity of about 50% more than I thought I needed for the effect of that. Since her safe word seems to be "OW!" I wasn't going to get a second swat anyway with the one I had wound up in my shoulder. SMMMAAAACKKKKK! It hurt. A lot. My hand was stinging. She felt it too.

She started laughing through the tears. A long time ago we were playing around with spanking. I had kicked the roommates (and the revenue) out of my house and we were christening all the rooms. The middle bedroom with the green shag carpeting had a cheap mirror on the back of the door. I had found a garland of pearls and she was wearing those her bridal heels and the "Nelda Outfit" (a one piece teddy our mutual friend Nelda had given her at her bridal shower.)

There was a stool in the room and we messed around mugging for the mirror. Her favorite was probably when I sat on the stool sans trousers and she watched in the mirror as she bent over wearing those 4" white satin, lace and pearl trimmed, stiletto heels and deep-throated me. I enjoyed having her bend over the stool as I swatted her bare cheeks with my hand progressively harder each stroke until she kept up a throaty sexy patter f oh yes, that fells good, spank me, make it hurt...until it actually did. Then she stood up straight rubbed her ass and said OW that HURT annunciated in clear debate team voice. We still laugh about that. If you can't laugh WITH your sub you aren't really secure in your Dom-ulinity. Besides, she is probably laughing behind your back AT you..(subs do that you know)

Oddly although I shared her mirth I was quite ramped up in my desire to cause her the pain so I was pretty un-apologetic about it. As the bright red hand print raised, I knew it was all worth it anyway..what a pic that will make!..snapped a few as she craned her neck to see it. looking at the display skin she audibly gasped in a "look what you DID to me" way but a quick groping of her confirmed that she was also very very wet...I think more so from seeing the result than the swat itself.

She openingly laughed saying look how dom-ly you still look despite the fact that we are laughing. I pointed out that even though I laughed, I really hadn't granted permission for her to do so. I emphasized my pint with some pressure on her carotids. Sharp intake of breath and then silence. "Better", I said, and meant it. Reaching down I pulled of the panties. "I also didn't give permission for you to cream in my panties." I grabbed the nylon panties and yanked them down over her ass and off her legs. "Look what you've done." I calmly pointed out, as I let her taste the moist gusset I soved it in her mouth.

Taking them out of her mouth, and taking liberties no properly trained sub would she wrapped them around her neck pulling the stretchy nylon taut. "I think you should choke me."

Taking them back I used them to stretch a taught gag like a bit through her teeth pulling hard at the corners of he mouth pulling her smile into a grimace. "No," I explained. "As much as I am getting off on this little scene, I might well take that too far." That seemed to hit the mark. by this point I had worked my way on top of her pinning her and threatening her already abused cunt again with my cock. Working it in I fucked her for a short while before she moved the panty gag aside and complained that it was hurting inside and not in a good way. "No problem," I cheerfully replied as I gently gathered a handful of hair and pulled her mouth down onto my cock. She lasted a little while that way and was experiencing discomfort there too.

Hmm, I say, you are an awfully greedy slut aren't you. You get off by crossing your legs and I don't complain when despite years of practice, you fail to get me off at times. You really need to choose one way or another here (as I put my cock back in her pussy). She complained and came again and again as I fucked her. Do you want me to stop? "No" Does it hurt? "Yes" Is that why you are cumming? "Yes".

I was looking forward to several exchanges back and forth mouth to pussy, pussy to mouth and back, but her writhing and orgasms from every nipple pinch just got me off before I could completely wear her down. All in all, another lovely time was had by me. Dunno about her, I shall badger her to post her version of this.

Lazy Morning Back Rub. - The Husband

I was a little morose last night. Came out of nowhere. Nothing I felt justified in pouting over. It was my own past deeds bringing up some well-earned guilt. My wife was patient with me as I worked through it. That is beyond long-suffering, especially since prior to my unexpected attack of conscience, she was very much in the mood. She waited it out and like other storms in the past this minor squall passed. We had a "lovely" time, and full of whatever chemical is released to keep the male from jostling the work-product after delivery, I fell to sleep.

I awoke still a little chagrined, but determined not to bring my self-abuse into the new day to cast a cloud on a very nice day here. When I don't feel good about myself, I withdraw, turn in. I was determined not to so silly as it sounds, I accepted her forgiveness by asking for a back rub this morning. (I know, I know, big of me huh?) But it worked, I was feeling connected and loved and accepted. I always am loved and accepted, but I struggle.

When she sleepily tired of scritching. I rolled over to scratch her, er, uh, front I guess. She didn't roll over so I did my best to keep it chaste and affectionate rather than sexual...I failed miserably......

Sugasm 110

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Erotic Writing. - The Husband

I was staying in a red light district hotel, having just moved out of my parents house under some duress at the age of barely 18. I was laying on the floor one night after work resting my back, and spied a slim volume of quite literally pulp fiction. It was printed on newsprint with a 2 color cover. It captivated me. It was the only erotica I had read other than Mom's Sydney Sheldons, and a battered copy of Judy Bloom's "Wifey" that i found in the alley behind our house . The tale in the found paperback involved an older woman (never called M.I.L.F.'s in those days.) She finds herself blackmailed in some improbable way and is in the broom closet or pantry with her son's friend with a cucumber equally improbably placed. To this day when running into such insertions I find such pics compelling. The element that one would think would have been the biggest turn off was the whole mother angle, given that I had no oedipal urges and, well, enough matriarchal loathing to hang out with Stewie Griffen.

I was rescued from skid row by my grandparents who heard of my new address and offered the basement room where they took in un-wed expectant mothers. (sadly, none were extant on the premises at the time of my visit.) I stayed there about three weeks when suddenly with no pre-amble but an elbow to the ribs from grandma, grandpa coughed out, "So, did you have any luck looking for an apartment today." By this I took it to mean that my bitch of a mother was giving grandma grief over giving shelter to her grandchild.

I exchanged my previous motel on skid row this time for one that backed to an "Adult" bookstore. (Said so right on the sign - Modern World Adult Bookstore)

I nervously went in, since the legal drinking age had been recently raised from 18 to 21 before I had a chance to choose not to imbibe, I wasn't sure if this rule extended to smut as well. I was skinny and very young looking and expected to be thrown out before I could memorize all the covers with the few furtive glances I cast about. I grabbed Tongue Lashing Susan a tale as I later found out was about a very friendly but driven nurse with an oral fixation. I grabbed this paid for it in cash and practically ran back to my room. As I read of Susan's exploits, I thought not at all about the fact that my mothers training and once a week shift at the hospital was as an R.N.

A year or so later during a nine day stay in the orthopedic ward of a hospital after a losing argument between my motorcycle and a 4 wheeled vehicle, I thought of it again. Interestingly I wonder if I projected that, or perhaps she noticed some hint of my ardor during my sponge baths because I did get a little tongue, but no lashing from my nurse that may well have been named Susan. In my mind the two figures merged when she kissed me. I can no longer remember if the Nurse or the girl in the book was named Susan. I am not sure it matters. ~fond smile~

Fingers or Tongue? - The Husband

True, the fingertips with their friction ridges and high concentration of sensory nerves enables me to feel your "... flesh, the soft wet satin of your pussy". You fail to consider that in addition to the tactile sensation there is also the element of taste, and fragrance.

Tell you what, How about I finger you to say your first half dozen orgasms tonight and then follow with some cunnilingus for the next six? Then we can compare notes.

I do feel a little guilty I confess. You do seem to enjoy your pussy, like when you had that intense orgasm in under a minute today, just because you can. It cannot compare though to the joy one gets from getting your face down in a freshly scrubbed one and performing a little pussy worship.

I'll have to find you some of your own to enjoy some day.

Oh and by the way - we got a Google hit today for knob polishing. Wouldn't want to disappoint our fans, so if you aren't to tired after a dozen or so orgasms.....

Edit:
Oh for the record the orgasms from the tongue were louder it seems than the ones from fingers. Also she was able to count off the first 6 orgasms from fingers, but when I switched to tongue she cheated and continued to hum along rather than announcing the orgasm, so its possible that she stole a couple of extra orgasms in the middle somewhere. It even out though because I cheated to, I didn't just use my tongue, I did get my teeth involved too.

That's LOVELY, Dear. - The Husband

Do you have a word that is purposely overused in your household?

For us it is "Lovely". It takes on all different meanings depending on the shading I give it. It started because at some point the wife had done something crafty and wanted my opinion on its brilliance. I was distracted and in "newspaper" mode as I call it based on the non-distinct grunts you could get out of my dad when he read the newspaper. He was rudely transparent about not listing. That wasn't y intent, I just was in my left brain when she asked and although that side has a several thousand world vocabulary, I don't write poetry with it. I have always had a bit of a bifurcated brain structure. Like I can't count and dance, but if I don't count I can dance.

Lovely can mean now, "meh, not really into it, if delivered with a frown" or Thats actually clever but I choose to deny you discernible feedback just because I am a sadist." if delivered with a grin.

I often say after a particularly raunchy romp "That was lovely, dear."

My wife is actually quite lovely so its a shame such a nice, gentle superlative got co-opted. She remembers the first intimate complement I gave her was "You know, you are really lovely". Apparently delivered in a nice Chinese restaurant sitting side by side as I turned to look at her.

We were sitting here just now discussing this because of a modification of my sigline on a forum, where I mean lovely in the adoring sense. It occurs to me though that the sig points to pictures that are, well , post romp lovely.

So I said to her with a sly grin. "You know dear, you are lovely....wait....and you suck a lovely cock!" . Gazing winningly, she rejoined, "You do have a lovely cock, and I do suck it on occasion."

Lights Out. -The Husband

I had observed in my younger days doing shall we say nocturnal fieldwork, that couples might make-out for a bit with the lights on, but when it came time to be intimate they tended to turn out the lights. Illumination if at all was from a flickering candle or a cathode ray tube.

In our early years, we had the lights a-blazing. As an avid voyeur, I saw no reason to miss out on any visual detail. We did candles, but usually lots of them to inflame the pyro in me. As we aged and added some bulges and bumps, we tended to dim out light sources until we, too were making the beast with two backs by the blue light of the TV with the sound down. Not a very efficient light source, that.

With some really remarkable effort on both our parts we have lost the equivalent of another body in bed. To the consternation of our friends who want a different answer to how we lost the weight , we did it from eating less, and being more active. Our sex lives have picked up as of late in frequency, duration, and the athleticism involved. As you can see from the last entry we can at times be a little intense, and the light levels are definitely back up.

Yesterday, I was playing some of those ad a letter/drop a letter, alphabet, word association, etc. games on a forum we frequent. One involved alphabetizing gerunds. (of course they didn't actually say gerunds, they simply said to find an "ing" word starting with the next letter of the alphabet.) I couldn't think of one for K for some reason, when usually I am pretty fast in riffling through my lexicon. She suggested "Kicking", which I started typing till she said "Kissing". Funny how a word can evoke memories. I mean it isn't like we don;t kiss on a regular basis. more lately than in a long time, some affectionate pecks, as well as a sprinkling of varied intensities thrown into the mix or our love-making, and even at times when we are just fucking. It occurs to me that that seems to be the difference. not the kink level but the kiss level in determining whether we are "Being Intimate" or "Fucking".

I remembered back to times when I was still in most ways imaginable a virgin, and she was while somewhat impatient, respecting my boundaries. I wish I could say my reticence was because of devout piety, but the truth was I was superstitious. My most serious previous relationship had ended, I thought at the time, as punishment at the hand of God. Not surprising I thought that given my repressive upbringing and the fact that I am in fact a direct descendant of Increase Mather. (I found out much too late that my poor attempt at self-education could have perhaps been rectified if I had had a large wad of cash and had presented my genealogy to the admissions office at Harvard and claimed the ultimate legacy status.)

Where was I? Oh, children of an Angry God and that sort of thing.

So, I convinced myself that if I went "too far" I would lose this girl that I was quite smitten with, sexually and emotionally. I drew silly incongruent lines to define the bounds of proper behavior, or at least behavior no worse than the week before say. We would have conversations that had a very heavily sexually charged undercurrent, while making plans to avoid for instance being alone together, as the flesh was weak. Very supple, and weak.....(enjoying euphoric recall here.)

So the kinkiest seemed to be the times we were most determined to "be good". We noticed the pattern early and we would torment each-other with the phrase, "We are going to be good..." "...Very good.."

So last night I wanted to re-live a little of the plain old make-out session time. I hadn't specifically planned anything vis-a-vis the lighting scheme. I had only resolved to leave the rope, the duct tape, the belt, and the kink put away, and just kiss. for as long as I could without leading anywhere else. I wasn't going to resist any advances she might be inspired to make, but I would be chaste, I resolved. Out of the shower, teeth brushed, I killed the distraction of the TV and when I flipped off the bathroom light the whole room was plunged into darkness. Interestingly that seemed to add to setting a new tone. I don't think the lighting level matters in this experiment for a couple, just try something different than you usually do, whatever that is. Unless you are blind in which case maybe write bright or dim slogans on each other in braille.

I fumbled trough the dark without stubbing a toe or barking a shin and found her on 'her side' of the bed guided in part by the redolent tones of the toddler snoring on my side. As planned we kissed and reminisced and it took not long at all for her to pick-up on the fact that I was reliving the days of being good. We didn't stay good, including other fantasy tableaus in our couping but just the slow delay made certain sensations all the more delicious.

She pointed out that I in fact was never this chaste at our best, but I pointed out that in fact I was in the earliest days before I succumbed to her feminine whiles and fell. I played the coquette, she played the gentle encourager and we had a fine time.