KOTW – Still of a Winter’s Night

KOTWLips

The moon was a ghostly galleon, the road a ribbon of moonlight and the lovers cared not at all for anything but one another. He’d come back for her with the yellow gold just as his words had promised. She was no longer just Bess, the landlord’s daughter, but his companion now to take to wife. She rested her head on his chest while he stroked her long dark hair; there still was a red love knot plaited there.

Suddenly he could wait no longer and guided them into the darkness, where a hidden cave appeared. Leading Bess inside he kissed her, he kissed the landlord’s daughter and held her fast to him. She ran her fingers down his velvet coat and smiled up at him. “Such a dandy. What will you do now that you’ve given up this life? Given it up for me.” Her black eyes sparkled with unshed tears and he kissed her. “Don’t cry my bonny sweetheart. You’re my prize tonight. And I intend to have my way with you,” he spoke with a jesting leer.

Bess gave him a look he’d never seen before and kissed him fiercely, her hands finding their way beneath his coat, feeling the softness of his shirt and wanting only to feel his warm skin again hers. They pulled apart and by unspoken word undressed hastily with him spreading his cloak upon the hard stone floor. He pulled his Bess down to him and just held her close in wonder, grateful that they’d been able to get away, grateful that she was his. Then he kissed her and unbound her hair so it fell about them like a dark cloud over the purple moor. And he loved her gently there, in the cold of a winter’s night; on a stone floor an in ancient cave they came together as one.

Two days later, at a small country church, they were married. He became an honest man, who had made an honest woman of the lovely Bess and they settled into a routine on the small farm his gold had bought. Gone was the velvet coat and the thigh high boots, gone were the jeweled weapons, but there was his lovely Bess and that was enough for him.

Seasons passed and children came and he told them all the story of how he’d been a highwayman once before he settled down and became a farmer. Not one of the children ever believed a word he said and Bess merely laughed when he recounted the old tale for them. They lived and laughed and loved. And still of a winter’s night they curl up in their warm bed and he reminds her again that she is his greatest and only prize.*

*A happier ending to one of my favorite pieces of poetry that reminds of the winter time every time I read it.

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KOTW – Cutting/tearing off clothes (Memento)

KOTWLips

I’d never really given the idea of tearing or cutting clothing off during sex much thought. I’d never had a partner try it and despite reading about it in plenty of erotica it didn’t really catch my eye. Besides, I reasoned, why would I want to ruin a perfectly good pair of cute panties or a good shirt?

And then it happened. The very first time I had sex with a certain partner I got a little wild and while I didn’t tear their clothing completely off, I did rip the shoulder out of the t-shirt that they were wearing. I was in such a head space that I didn’t recall it at the time, but I was told about it later with a laugh. I was also told to just pitch the shirt as it was (obviously) now ruined. Instead I kept the shirt and put it on the next night when I got home from work. I wasn’t sure if that encounter would be our only one and if it was then I was keeping the shirt as a memento of some of the best sex I’ve ever had (maybe even the best.)

It is years later and I still have that shirt, and the partner, if anyone is wondering. I’ve worn it to dye my hair so now it had purple spots on it, it has food stains that never quite came out, it’s old and tattered and I refuse to part with it. I actually almost cried when I got hair dye on to be honest. It is just a little thing, but it means so much to me that I can’t bring myself to part with it. It will forever be a piece of my history that is etched in my brain in flashes and snippets and moments of clarity and that is something that I cherish completely.

Kink of the Week – Handjobs

So I’m in my thirties and have never given a handjob in my entire life. I definitely skipped that part of the teenage fumbling “Sex 101” that many people seem to experience and when I asked my previous partner if they would teach me how I was turned down with a resounding no. So I’ve given up on learning how to give them.

I’ve heard it said that getting a handjob is like masturbating but with someone else’s hand and that the cognitive dissonance can be a little weird for a person. I’ve heard other people say there’s no point to handjobs with a partner and question their place as part of a healthy sex life, but I think that whether a penis owner is doing it themselves or having someone else do it for them, it can be an incredibly sexy and sensual thing to do. I imagine a tale of a “happy ending” at a massage parlor for instance and how illicitly sexy that might be. It might go something like this…

David had booked a massage at the place his friend Ken had recommended where he’d been assured that the service was top notch and out out of this world. He didn’t quite know what to expect from it, but when he arrived and was called back he knew to strip and cover himself with the sheet at least. He was ready to experiences the wonders of this place and hope it helped him be a bit less stressed out over work and life in general.

The pretty woman giving his massage grazed his rear end a few times as she worked his lower back but he was sure it was unintentional. Until she started massing him there too. It felt really good, although he wasn’t sure this was part of a typical massage and started to wonder about this place. As she asked him to turn over and began to massage his legs and working her way closer and closer to his groin he felt a stirring and started mentally going over baseball stats in his head. He didn’t want to embarrass himself by getting a hard on, but was struggling to avoid it as her talented fingers worked the tops of his thigh. She brushed against his penis once on accident though and David found himself in a losing battle. The game stats just weren’t cutting it. He apologized profusely to the woman who merely smiled at him, “Just relax David. It’s a normal response and a sign that your body is less stressed than before. Although if you like I could massage there too.” And her smile turned into a wicked little grin. “Wha? What?” He wasn’t sure if he had heard her right but when she began to move the sheet away from his body he realized she was serious. She watched him for any signs of protest and he stared right back, almost challenging her. He realized with a start that he did want this and when she asked again he let his head fall back with a murmured, “Please,” escaping his lips.

She wrapped her hand around his throbbing dick and began to spread the massage oil along the length of him, stroking and rubbing gently as she did so. Slowly her pace increased and she was stroking him hard enough to tug at the base of his dick on every up stroke and sliding her hand all the way to his balls on when she moved her hand down. Suddenly he felt a second hand cup his balls and squeeze gently as she stroked him and moaned softly, hoping no one could hear him. Rolling them between her nimble fingers she rotated her stroking hand around his shaft, back and forth before reaching up to take him with both hands, stroking in opposite directions as she did so. David’s hips lifted of their own accord and he noticed he was squirming and almost ready to beg for release when her movements changed and became faster, back to just one hand now. Stroke, stroke, stroke and David sighed with pleasure. This must’ve been what Ken meant by the service being so good. Without warning David’s hips twitched again once then twice as he felt his entire body tense up as he orgasmed, jets of come spurting from his dick and onto his belly or over her hand. He moaned again and close d his eyes briefly. He felt a towel across his belly as the woman cleaned up and when she before she turned to go she whispered softly in his ear, “Have a happy day.”

KOTW -Names/Titles (Naming Him)

Martha and Thomas had slowly began to explore a Dominant and submissive relationship sometime ago and he frequently called her “Little Miss” or just “Missy”, but she didn’t know what to call him. They’d tried Master, but both of them found it to be harsh and grating. Sir didn’t have quite the ring to it they wanted and Daddy was just awkward for Martha to say to her husband. So finally one night she asked him what the protocol needed to be and what his title was going to be. He assured his Missy that he would think about it and that she was to as well and they would figure it out, but right now he was going to cuff her and fuck her.

She quickly found her hands trapped and legs spread just like he wanted. Thomas’ fingers caressed her and dipped into her pussy finding her wet and ready for him; his fingers stroked her over and over as she squirmed, begging to be allowed to come for him. “No Little Miss, you’ll come when I say so and only when I say so. You’re mine and I run this show. Understood?” Martha nodded her head, still writhing on the bed as she struggled not to orgasm before he granted her permission. Without warning he withdrew his fingers and stuffed them into her open mouth. Her eyes widened but she began to suck obediently, tasting herself and relishing it.

He climbed onto the bed, cock in hand and guided himself into her pussy, gently at first, slowly. He fucked her languidly, just barely moving as he looked down at her and kissed her forehead, her cheeks, and finally her lips ever so gently and whispered to her again, “You’re mine Little Miss.” She shivered beneath him at the words and arched her hips upward, wanting him to fuck her harder. He laughed softly. “All in good time, my dear. All in good time. His increase of the pace at which he fucked her seemed incrementally slow to her and she was a greedy Little Miss who wanted more of his cock.

Thomas gave her a naughty little smile and suddenly slammed hard into her, causing her to cry out and try even harder to take as much as he would give her and then some. They fucked hard and relentlessly, Missy struggling to hold back the orgasm she had been denied and him enjoying the tight, wet heat of her body. She began to tense up and Thomas froze. “Not yet Missy, not yet. Not until you call me by my proper title.” She moaned softly half in pleasure, half in frustration. They’d played this game before, with her trying all kinds of honorifics hoping one would finally stick and become who he was to her.

“Please Captain, may I come for you?” He made a slight face and shook his head, holding very still inside of her body. “Please may I come for you my Prince?” They both burst into giggles at that one and feeling her clench around his cock made him groan with restrained pleasure. He moved in and out slowly waiting for her next request, to see what would come out of her lovely mouth next. “Dom, can I come for you please?” He tilted his head considering that one and shook his head, still not feeling quite right. She arched her hips against him silently begging for the game to end. “One more try for me Missy, a good one, and I’ll let you come for me.”

She tried very hard to think as she whimpered and bit her lip to keep from simply pleading with her Thomas to fuck her and let her have that orgasm she so desperately wanted. And her mind flashed back to what he said earlier, “You’re mine and I run this show.” She giggled and looked at him,. Her tone was slightly impish although still laced heavily with her desire. “Can I please come for you now, Boss? I promise I’ll be a good girl for you.” Boss. He rolled the word around his in his mind, hearing it in his head. “Say it again. Louder.” “Can I please come for you now, Boss?” He resumed fucking her hard now and grinned down at her. “You’re quite right Little Miss. I am the Boss and you will address me as such from now one. Got it?” She moaned out loud at the feeling of fullness before she answered him proudly, “Yes Boss.” “Now come for me Missy. Come hard!”

Kink of the Week – July 16-31st – Getting Wet in the Rain (Sexual Storm)

There is something almost child like about playing in the rain to me, but it is also a primal thing as well to be under the grey skies, dancing with nature. Being outside in and of itself is merely a tease, the water beating against your skin, soaking your hair. But the real fun comes after. When you’ve gone inside and dried off.

You’re chilled so you slip under a blanket, perhaps with a partner, perhaps not, and that’s when it begins. You recall that primordial feeling of oneness and seek it again and again. Perhaps it is a cool hand wrapped around your cock, stroking, or your fingers against you clit or buried in your wet pussy. You can hear the storm raging outside and it only turns you on further. Perhaps your partner is there and you share a mind blowing kiss that blows the same storm out of proportion, sending it to the back of your mind as the focus shifts to the present. They lift your wet hair from your eyes and you see the storm in theirs, quite different from the one outside. Maybe that becomes the only storm you can see now and you focus on your pleasure, and theirs for long moments at a time, drawing it in to yourself and drawing it out to last.

Either way, the tempest of your own orgasm will eventually rush over you, maybe gentle as a spring rain or hard as a summer storm. You’ll ride it out, to the sounds of rainfall and maybe thunder (or is that only your pulse pounding in your ears?) will sound in the distance. As you settle again, calm like the eye of a storm you smile your lust satiated for the moment. And you consider going back out to play in the rain.

Kink Of The Week – July 1st-15th – Fingering

So many people see fingering as nothing more than foreplay, a means to an end, and sure it works out that way for a lot of people. But these people don’t know what they are missing out on when they move on from fingers. Especially when you learn just how dexterous and gentle or demanding and rough one’s fingers can be.

My lover’s fingers find me wet and waiting for their touch. They tease me, gently slipping a finger barely inside me and then out again; I am patient sometimes, until I’m not, and my hips lift and buck, begging for more. And their strokes become fuller, more certain until I am dripping wet and squirming on the bed for them. A quick flutter against me and I’m lost, an orgasm rolling through my body. Bliss.

Other times, those same fingers are demanding of me, roughly slamming into my cunt, beating out a pounding rhythm that echoes through my soul. I whimper and moan, trying to take more, sometimes more than they are willing to give just yet. I am not so passive and am writhing around, doing my damnedest to meet them thrust for thrust. Those fingers driving into me, driving me wild with need. Hard pressure against my inner walls. Nothing gentle here. And suddenly I am tipped over the precipice, into a rolling full body orgasm, the kind that seems to lift you into oblivion. I come back to myself slowly and find I am cradled in their arms ever so tenderly.

Sometimes, my partner will surprise me, at my desk or in the kitchen, and before I can think I find lubed up fingers sliding into my cunt and whipping back and forth wildly, their only goal to make me come all over their fingers at least once and usually twice or even three times. I’m lost to them when they do this and all I can do is feel their touch and what they’re doing to me in that moment. And when they (and I) are satisfied, those lovely fingers slip away and after I can see straight again I go on about my day.

Those fingers are magical to me and I love when I get fingered to orgasm over and over. My partner enjoys the feeling of me clenching around their fingers repeatedly until I just can’t and they often demand just one more from me after that, one that I gladly give.

KOTW 5/16-5/31 – Crawling

Crawling. A baby’s first method of movement towards the process of walking upright. Something done by young children who just don’t want to walk or are playing pretend. How is crawling sexy when that is all that comes to mind for me?

To be honest, its not. I’ve tried to understand. I’ve even tried to slink across the floor myself but I just looked silly and awkward. I lack the innate grace, it seems, for an adult to look good crawling. I also hate being on my hands and knees because I find it uncomfortable at best. At its worst it could be used as an actual form of punishment for me in my relationship (no one tell Sir that, OK.)

I can’t even pretend to understand this kink. I was going to write a story about it instead of sharing my ramblings, but I couldn’t get past the first few lines. Hell, I understand it so little even this pseudo rant is difficult for me to write. I feel like Bart Simpson here, “I will not write about crawling.” “I will not write about crawling.” But here I am, left wondering what I can say that would be of any use to any one who reads this.

Maybe the idea of watching your guy or girl crawl across the floor to you is really hot and it turns you on. Maybe you like to make your submissive crawl because it puts them further into that head space that they (and you) might want them to be in. Whatever the reason behind it; why it turns you on, can someone please explain it to me?