Saturday, November 21, 2009

opening up

I have a difficult time climaxing when my partner is touching me, giving me oral sex, or just fucking me in general. It just doesn't happen that often. I usually and almost always have to finish with my own hand. The problem, I'm sure is in my head, and the problem is sometimes bigger than some people can tolerate. It led to bed death in one relationship and of course that led to more than bed death which I think is one of the worse things that can ever happen including infidelity. The problem has never stopped me from enjoying sex and indeed has probably led to some marathon sessions because my partners want to try again and again and so do I. I also firmly believe that most of what happens when the sex is hot hot hot is at least 69% between the ears, in the brain. Imagination and desire fuel the best sex I've ever had and led me to kink and keeps me firmly planted there.

So, my partner needed to do this for me, she says. I know I needed to give it to her which is more the point. This is really about displaying my desire for her within her complete control, including my orgasm.

We are laying in bed and talking and touching and she has played with me most of the night and I have touched her the way she likes and i'm feeling very soft and then I feel her leg pull mine aside and she pushes my legs apart and whispers to me to keep them spread. She wants me open and she touches me softly, my lips, the soft opening, my clit and I feel myself swell and it's so soft and then the deep wet sploosh and she moans and concentrates on my clit and I feel it get hard and big and she uses a little more pressure and then her fingers are flying across me and I tell her to slow down baby and I think I am almost ready to cum but something is missing. I need her whispers. My fingers run through her hair and I pull her closer and tell her I'm keeping my legs spread for her like she wants and I hear her voice say, "yes baby." Keep talking love, please. "You're mine, all mine," she says and that I am going to cum for her and I am moaning louder and telling her please don't stop and feel her legs holding me down and my resistance and her hot breath in my ear telling me, "You're in my hands and you're going to cum, it's all me, and you're all mine. That's it, cum for me, cum." I cannot stop myself at all and I'm throbbing deeply, splooshing, spilling into her hand and she knows and when I move her fingers inside me she yields and although I cannot see it, I feel her smile and I feel completely opened.

Kiss me one more time

It's that time you know you is coming, when the lazy sunday ends and you have to leave each other and you want just a little more. Something to take with you.

She is leaving on a business trip and her bags are packed and the cats have been fed but that bit os sadness is there and I'm looking at her softly. She comes to me and kisses my lips softly at first. I touch her hips and then I am pushed against the edge of the counter with her kiss on my lips and her hands on my face. My sex is wet, throbbing and I want to feel her in my hands. She unbuttons my blouse and takes my nipples in her fingers making them erect, sensitive, erotically charged nuclei setting me on fire. Her tongue pushes into my mouth filling me, and her hands roam my body now, her fingers unzipping my jeans and reaching into my panties, soaked, and my cunt is ready to be filled but she teases my clit over and over and I am throbbing. I want to be bent over the counter and fucked deeply. My hand unzips her pants and I reach into her sex and she is swollen and wet. My fingers reach inside and I am rewarded with her soft moan. I finger her swollen opening and stroke her clit until she cannot stop throbbing. She keeps me on the edge until I cannot stop myself and I shudder, cumming in her hand.

It's time to leave. She drops me at the train on her way to the airport and she is in my head now humming and throbbing the whole way home.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

desire, punishment, pleasure

I am late and terribly excited about seeing her again. I am so eager to get her upstairs to my apartment where I can touch her, feel her hands on my body and her lips on mine. I want to devour her right now, drown in her.

She is sitting on the couch in the lobby and I light when I see her. I apologize for being late but can see she needs more than that. I try to explain and tell her that I didn’t even get all my errands done. She is having none of my weary explanations. She wants to know that it won’t happen again. She is hurt. Can’t she see that she is who I’ve been anxious to see ALL day?

I am getting snarky in my answers as I lay on the floor like a tease while she sits on my couch with that brooding face.

I tell her that even Laura missed her ballet class because the game went so long. That is enough. She comes at me on the floor. Holding me down. I feel her hand slap me and then she sits back on the couch.

My arm is hurt from the force that she used to hold me down. I pick up my glasses which were sent flying from my face and get up and tell her that I’m sorry and to calm down. I need her to be able to calm herself. I want her to so that she can direct her anger in a more controlled way. I want her hands on me. Controlled. The slap shocked me but if she could tell me to bend over now and spank me until she felt her anger leave her, I would be putty after that. I can’t bring myself to tell her. I’m afraid.

She wants to get out and have a date with me. Let’s go to a movie. I look up the times and head out. We go for WHIP IT. Perhaps that will suit us with our feelings in such high gear right now. The on-line movie times are wrong. Not at this theater at 7:30. Let’s find another one. Park Slope. It works. I get the tix and popcorn and we settle in. We banter. The movie is fun and sexy. I fall into her. Lean on her shoulder and hold her arm. When the lights come up, she tells me she is hungry and maybe it’s the food fight scene but she wants a cheeseburger. "What kind I ask?" The greasy slider kind or the big beefy juicy kind with pink juice running down your arms? She wants the MEAT. I take her to this burger joint I love called Bonnie’s Grill and we wait for stools at the counter and both order cheeseburgers even though I’m not really hungry. I will gladly eat it now and regret later. She can't finish hers but I am determined to eat all of mine and I do. I feel so full. My belly. My heart.

My belly is too full to do all the nasty things I want to do. I suggest we just lie down and let things settle. She sits on the couch, I put on music and she strokes my head and we talk a bit but I am just at ease now and want to curl up in her arms.

I make the bed up and get ready. Slip into a camisole. I want to wake up with her looking at me with hungry eyes.

I wake through the night, touching, kissing and feeling full. I touch her softly and she touches me. It must be early morning now and I feel her hand on my ass, slowly moving in circles. I am grinding the mattress now and she begins tapping my
cheeks with the palm of her hand so softly you would not know the suggestion of a spanking if you weren’t looking for it, but I was looking for it. I wanted it. Needed it. Had been craving it all night. The tap tap gets a bit stronger but still so sensual, so soft that it is nothing but erotic, teasing. My sex moistens so much I can feel the sheet now damp beneath me. She lifts her hand slightly higher and slaps me just that much harder but still not enough to raise the colour from my cheeks. I must start groaning because now I hear the smack and want more intensity and I am rewarded as I feel the palm of her hand get hotter. I want to
touch myself but refrain because I know this is her show. The intensity gathers but she never raises her hand that high or hits me so hard that my breath is taken. It is sensual enough to be sweet and stern enough for me to know my place.

She reaches between my legs touches my clit with the tips of her fingers and I am awash in her hand. Her fingers fly across my lips and clit faster and faster and I pant and moan and I raise my ass higher and writhe and squirm. She is on top. She has control. She tells me to cum for her and I think of nothing but her hand on
me, her fingers making me swell and splosh until I feel that tightening in my center, my legs numb, the blood rush to my sex and my brain releases all thought and I cry out loud. I am spent. I so want to please her now with all my heart. I touch her slowly. She is relaxed and proud of pleasing her girl. She should be
deeply rewarded many times over. I touch her nipples and kiss her softly. Her sex is beyond damp. It is almost throbbing and I know if she stays relaxed in this moment, she will cum in my hand easily. I whisper to her how wonderful her touch is while I caress her sex, circling the hole and fingering her knob until I feel it completely swell and she makes the most subtle of groans to tell me that this is right. I whisper how much I need her discipline and her touch, how completely hard I get in her hands. I want her to cum because she deserves this pleasure and I want to give it, whenever she asks me for it, whenever she wants to give it to me.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

dueling dreams



I look at the pictures and recall our more intimate moments. I recall the cane splintering on my backside. I recall binding your hands and feet and your disappointment every time I untied you.

I see my pants around my ankles, bending over the saddle at the sex club, my hands in cuffs and J's belt sending my brain running and my high begins. You, making me your boi bitch in the club, with my boy shorts stuffed in my mouth, my ankles bound and my legs hoisted and tied to the pipes above us, your hands punishing me until I frank.

J in the shower, taking me from behind, and I'm holding onto the bar so that I don't fall and her arm is wrapped tight around my waist, holding me and with her other hand, she opens my vulva, grabs my clit and I am cumming.

J bound to my frame, spread eagle, and her sex is pouty and pretty. She strains against the ropes, sending her silent signal to tighten them. Her full honey colored breasts shine and the nipple rings beckon me to play. I ride her vulva with mine and we kiss. I touch her entire body, stopping at each place that calls me to fuck. I ride her hips, and suck her lips and fill her ass deeply and she calls for more. Thoughts of big red fill me suddenly and I see you pushing him in my ass in the mirror.

I put on my corset today and thought about our shopping excursion that hot day in July. Then I see the image of it torn up in the garbage and it hits me. I put on my leather vest and breathe deeply.

new skin new touch

I think of you, your soft skin under my touch. I think of your hands on my sex, the throbbing rising and rising. I want your mouth on mine. I want to taste your skin. I want you in my hands, pleasuring you.

Take me harder. Fill me. Every hole. Hold me down and make me cum.

The blindfold slips on. I taste your fingers as you feed me. I want to suckle. Give me your breast, your neck, your lips. My tongue and lips teasing the sweetness from your skin.

Pull my body closer. Lift my ass up and hold my cunt in your hands. Make me squirm. "Hold still," you say and my clit is in the tips of your fingers and I swell.

I want to be fucked deeply, filled with your whole hand while your mouth suppresses my cries, sighs, moans, deep mewing.

I want to push my sex into yours and let my vulva swallow yours.

I want to hear your soft moans and feel the swell of your sex as my mouth holds your ear, whispering what a pretty girl you are.

I want to listen later for the heart beating hard and then softer until the purr of sleep overtakes you.

caning virgin


You tell me you've never done this before. Yet when I turn my head to look at you, I see you wielding the cold metal tip of the cane, using it to position me where you want me, to turn around and keep my ass up toward your hands. I feel taken and yet still in control.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. It gets faster and then the force of the cane bears down on my cheeks. It stings and thuds all at once and I flinch lowering my ass down and squeezing my buttocks inward, and then I feel a more forceful stroke and I almost frank but you let me recover and I lift my ass back up toward you.

You prepare me for more and stroke my back with the tip of the cane. You switch instruments and I feel the brush of your mini whip/crop. The fronds of leather on my back being slowly drawn down the length of me are enough to make my sex completely wet. The sting of the whip awakens me. My head is here, now. Nothing else enters. I breathe in the whipping. You stop momentarily and then I feel it again, the tap, tap, tap and the sound is pushing my edges. I hold my position and brace for the next strokes of the stiff cane and I am rewarded in my knowledge.

whore

She calls me at work. I love having sex at work. We chit chat. She tells me she has work to do. "You are going to hang up and look at my naughty blog and masturbate," I say. I am wet. I suggest I close the door.

She knows what I want to hear. Her kneeling between my legs. Under my desk. Licking my pussy. My clit under her tongue. Up on my desk, legs up, being fucked by her. My tits bouncing out of my white shirt, my pink nipples taut. I am so loud. The boss unlocks the door and steps in. He closes the door. Aroused. I hear him unzip and then feel the tip of his cock on my lips. I lean my head back and feel his balls on my tongue. My pussy is swollen and I can hear that sound, sssslpp, sssslpp, ssslpp. She hits my spots and I am bucking. She pushes my hips down and plays with my nipples. His cock enters my mouth and I suck. He pushes and I gag slightly and he now he fucks my mouth slow while she pushes faster, harder. I see her nipples tighten and know she will cum soon. The cock in my mouth swells. I want her pussy. I gasp and that sound brings her closer. The egg in her vulva vibrates. She tells me that I am a whore and I suck hard now on that cock to show her that she is right. His cum shoots in my throat and fills my mouth and she can see it on my lips. She grabs my clit and I am throbbing, she fingers my asshole and feels me tighten and pulse. She cums hard now, rocking me and I want her in my mouth to lick her cum.

I want to please her. Whore, girl, domina, slut, lover. She brings me bliss.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

play parties....to sex or not to sex

ok, I get enjoying bdsm without sex because it's fun, it's edgy, it serves a variety of needs for each of us, and one of mine is carthartic emotional release but for whatever reason, playing at a party gets me charged up and increases my sexual desire.

Recently, I played at several parties with two very different partners. One, does not want to mix the sex with our scenes. One, can't even imagine being bound without being fucked at some point.

I am not a sadist. I like to top, especially when practicing bondage but it's not the most natural state of my being. I wouldn't exactly call myself a bottom either but I do find myself in bottom head space if I find the right partner, and yes, I confess, it more than satisfies. Yet what I've found as a top is that I like to inflict a good measure of both painful sensations and sensual touching. I like seeing a young woman's skin raised with welts and hear her moans and whimpers. I like to see her hand raised to signal that I need to ease up. I more than like it. It makes me wet and hard. In the latest play session I had, I wanted to fuck as soon as I saw the markings of the cane start to raise on her ass. I had to stop the beating before it got really going and my bottom was disappointed. I don't like to disappoint. That is truly my basic desire...I want to be the cream in her coffee, the top of the rock. Does that make me a service top? Does it make more of a bottom?

My favorite play partner can't play any more. She is in a relationship now and she thinks it would be "cheating" to play now. When I suggested that I was sad and missed our bondage sessions, seeing the supple white rope against her skin, and that it didn't have to end in fucking, she said, "I just don't think that would work for me. I wouldn't be able to resist the urge to fuck." I understand. I don't think I disappointed her much but now I am the one who finds herself wanting more.

Thursday, May 7, 2009

imagination/desire

Fantasy/story:

The Boi

The canes and belts were laid out on the bar along side the bottles of wine. The hallway was lit with rows and rows of candles.

The boi was called for and he took his mistress’s jacket, and hung it with care. He poured her a glass of wine. He wore the whitest of briefs, tight across his ass. Miss R liked the boi’s breasts available and so he wore the flimsiest of undershirts which could be ripped from his body easily.

Miss R sat down and lifted her feet. Her boi, G, knelt quickly and unzipped her boots and took them off his mistress’s feet gently, caressing them as he did so.
“Thank you, please leave me for a moment.” Miss R relaxed, closing her eyes and resting her feet on the ottoman. She picked up a magazine and then shouted to the boi, “Come here.” She showed her boi an article about young successful women who had slave boys and girls. Everyone was of legal age but the head of the house had servants who performed various tasks including if she wanted, sexual favors. Miss R said that she might enjoy that type of arrangement. “Do you have objections boi?” “I will take them into consideration but can and will do as I wish.”

“Your pleasure Miss R is my objective,” he responded.

“Draw me a bath and hang up my clothes.” Miss R drank back the last of the wine in her glass and put it down. “You can bring me another glass when the bath is ready.”

Boi G started the bath and followed his mistress into the bedroom and took Miss R’s clothes from her as she undressed. Her skin, honey gold, smooth, lit up the room. The boi’s eyes appreciate her beauty, the high arch of her hips and ass, the curve of her breast, the dark nipple, her pretty chin, graceful neck, the sheer length of her back and legs.

Miss R walked to the bath and closed the door. She had every confidence that the temperature was perfect and that her wine would be brought after she settled in. Her boi adored her and wanted to please her.

G poured another glass of the pinot and brought it to Miss R, knocking before entering. Miss R smiled, her body relaxed, “Thank you sweet girl.” The boi enjoyed this feminization of his psyche. Miss R grabbed a nipple and pulled the boi toward her to kiss the boi’s lips. “Ok, you can go now.”

The boi went back to the kitchen and finished preparing the repast for the evening.
Dublin cheddar, fresh goat cheese, crusty oaty bread and slices of pear, apple, and strawberries as well as olives, seared scallops, and thin slices of rare red beef with horseradish cream. He laid it out on a large platter to please her eye and palate, contrasting color while keeping strong flavors apart to mix salty and sweet, tart and creamy.

Miss R loved this time in her bath, relaxing, masturbating. She would deal with the boi later during the week. The tension of the week would be played out with the canes and belts on the boi’s body increasing their sexual pleasure of each other. Now, however, he would have to be content with serving her and pleasuring her.

Miss R came out of the bath with her head wrapped and her robe on. She laid back on the chaise. G, came out of the kitchen with the platter and brought the bottle of wine. “Would you care for anything else Miss R?”

“No. Please sit with me.” She talked about her day and ownership of her new creative designs. It was important to her and the boi listened carefully to glean how she felt and hone in on her desires for achievement. Miss R was very accomplished and loved to be stroked for those things. It was important to be her champion.

“Would like to watch a movie or something Miss R,” the boi asked. “We have a couple of selections to choose from, “Before Night Falls” with Javier Badem or “Water,” the Chinese film.

“Water.”

The boi took the disc and set up the system to play. Miss R patted the couch next to her for the boi to come sit close. She took the towel off her head and reached for her comb, handing it to the boi. “Please comb it out carefully.”

He knew to start slowly at the bottom and move up, holding the top his mistress’s head. Her hair was silky, shiny, fragrant. The comb moved through her hair easily now.
“Thank you,” was all that was said when she wanted him to stop.

The movie was about an orphaned aristocrat is sent to a temple to live and encounters a temple prostitute whom she starts to emulate. Miss R loved these types of movies and enjoyed sharing them but only after the movie was over. She would pause once in a while to comment but mostly sat engrossed, entranced, taken away to another place.
She leaned into the boi, to feel his body and once relaxed, would open her legs to reveal her sex, thick and beckoning with a strip of dark hair leading to the center of her sex.
The boi touched her slowly on her thighs, barely moving his hand, fingers pressed easily not too heavy, not too light. She would hold his hand when the touch was too much sensation or push his fingers inside if she wanted more.

The best times for the boi were those moments when their eyes would meet and for a minute the world would stop and their lips would meet and a long slow kiss would seem like forever. They would go back to the movie but that moment was what he longed for every time.

At bedtime, the boi turned down the bed and Miss R would allow him the pleasure of sleeping there most nights. At times, he would just bend down, take the caning and be sent off. Miss R’s fingers would take her own pleasure, her shiny nails disappearing into her sex and her body shuddering while the boi listened intently for her orgasm but knew he couldn’t hear it but saw it in his mind as his own hands brought his climax.
Miss R planned an outing for the boi. She wanted to go shopping. The boi dressed, grabbed his wallet and went to get the car. He would wait outside for his mistress by the door.

They drove out to New Jersey with the windows down. They enjoyed these times together. Miss R would file her nails and chat about work or the movies. They talked about books and talked about their workouts. They talked about friends and going to the beach.

Miss R wanted shoes, a jacket and some new skirts. She also browsed through the lingerie. Slink adorned her well. She looked exquisite in the black corset the boi had purchased. The way she looked with the cane in her hand when she had it on was imposing. Her dominant nature shone through.

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

direction

I don't know how a simple hot tubby ends up becoming three hours of smoothing, touching, grooming, washing, talking, massaging, but it does. The care of each other bonds and creates intimacy. The private boundaries fall away. My feet are in her hands and my head follows. I feel guided. Warm, soft, strong hands washing, massaging, caressing. I am sinking into this warmth and held in her strength. Her natural talents. Leading. Directing.

Her honey skin beckons. The light in her eye calls for playtime. "So what did you buy?" A simple leading question. The hosiery. The thigh high silky stockings with lace trim are chosen. She helps me fasten the corset and I put on the hosiery. She makes some adjustments and asks me to turn in the universal sign language for turn around. I stand and obey and feel naughty and slutty. Where is the boy inside me? Fleeing fast. I revel now in my girlyness. I confess I didn't pack my heels and she is up and comes back with boots, stiletto heels. She zips them up and I love how they feel. I strut and she chides slightly, "you are not getting any tips dancing like that." I work a bit harder.

I am just getting into the dance and she asks me to bring one item from the umbrella stand. I bring three. I want ALL OF THEM. The cane with its silver tips, a strong birch for the punishment and those cold tips against my warmed skin. I want the crop with its mini flogger that stings and tingles. I want the new boar bristled hairbrush while I am over her knee, intimate and close.

"Choose one." I opt for the crop. "Bend over." I move forward slightly from where she is sitting on the couch and bend down, reaching for my ankles, my legs slightly spread. She pushes me forward slightly and I stretch further down my legs...holding the soft suede leather of these boots and feeling how difficult it will become to hold this position once the crop starts to burn. The crop strikes once and I cry out mostly from the edge of anticipation. She strikes me again in succession a few times and I feel the sting. She touches my ass. I look back and she directs my face forward with the tip of the crop. I think she strikes me hard twice and then again in succession just slightly softer three or four times. I teeter slightly as my knees quiver. I feel her power and my sex starts to moisten. She positions the small square ottoman in front of me and leans me over it. "Show me your ass," she says and I happily lift it, climbing onto 16 inch square like a circus act. I am praised. "That's it. Nice." Her voice is starting to drop and I know she is aroused.

Downward strokes in succession feel as if my skin is burning. Hard stinging strokes to my hips, upper buttocks bring heated cries. She lets me breathe. Reminds me to lift my ass to her. My hips rise as she meets it with more stinging blows. My head sinks down and I raise my cheeks higher to meet her. Each pause raises my threshold as the endorphins start to rise. I want her touch too. I want to feel the heat of my wounds on her hands. She hesitates to strike and strokes my skin slowly with the tendrils of the crop. I tingle and twitch. My sex is moist. "Say yes." I do. I want more. Stroke me. Hard stinging blows. One.....pause...two, three, four...five, six....seven and I beg for relief, pounding the sides of that ridicuously small piece of furniture that I am balanced upon. I will not frank. "johnny" escapes my lips almost breathless and she does not let up. There is the slightest pause as if she heard me and then two quick hard strike against my cheeks. I feel her cock now between my legs and one slight push and she is in. I move back toward her and she holds me still, fucking my sex hard, pounding at once. The slap slap slap and I am writhing. My sex swells even further and I want it all. I want the crop again and her cock and I want to touch her honey skin. My head is swimming. I feel the rush and I put my hands against the floor to hold my body up while she pushes into me harder and harder. My legs start to feel the pressure and my knee gives out and I beg to turn over. She guides my head to her cock and I swoon. Greedy pig wraps her mouth around the dildo and slides down the shaft. The push from my mistress into my mouth again and again and I gasp. I take her in my hands and slurp down sucking. I lay back on the ottoman and she stands over my mouth, guiding her cock into my mouth, deep, deeper, gasping now. Again. Again. Now my legs are spread and she plunges again. I buck and then she flips me and I ride her bouncing with the tips of toes tapping the floor and then she is pushing me up and down....I clench my cunt and feel her movements. I think I'm ready to cum and she flips me again. "Show me your ass," is all she has to say and I get into position, on my knees, shoulders low, and my hands down, ready to be fucked. My sex is dripping and I think I'm going to squirt when I do cum. She hands me the vibrator and in two minutes I'm pulsing, throbbing, and then more splooshing and I want more and as she yanks at my hair, grabs my hips, pulls at my tits, I feel the wave rise again and a surge of pulsating energy and I am throbbing, throbbing, throbbing, I keep going, pulsing, throbbing and I think this must end but I'm still open and then I feel my sex tighten, and the deep throbbing goes on and on. I am giggling and smiling and panting. I want her more now. I want her between my legs, in my mouth, under my skin.

The camera has captured us. I feel taken. Lead into my role.

Monday, March 23, 2009

porn, the bookish kind

Last night, as one door closed, another door opened. My J came by to watch the light show from my couch (aka, the sunset) and get cozy, have a cocktail, soak in the tubby. Her skin makes me tingle. Her smile is my pleasure. She wasn't smiling enough. I want to make her heart light. Nothing came through, not even the orgasm in the tubby. I gave up and turned to the porn.

I have about 12 books. Victorian porn collected from old Victorian magazines and serials. Cheap, anonymously written porn (two of my favorites are in this category and both involve non-consexual sex), gay male porn, lesbian fluffer, and modern memoir porn along the lines of O but on different topics including pony play.

Things were so bad, that when I started reading the fluffer to her, she fell asleep. I gave up. I took my porn to bed and asked her if she would like to join me and proceeded. I found it was difficult, for the first time in years to actually get off while reading my favorite passages. I had to get out my dildo and fuck myself concentrating on the scene of Jenny getting whipped by her master's head mistress, Sadia, and then fucked by their master, the Lord of Kordofan, and then forced to pleasure Sadia as well. These passages used to be enough to make a wet spot on the sheets between my legs. I always preferred the book of porn to the video but I wonder if everything I've seen and done has jaded me just a little. Perhaps I was just expecting a similar response that MSR had given when I read these passages aloud to her.

I wanted J to touch me, kiss me, fondle me, squeeze my nipples, tug at them, fuck my wet hole.

Eventually, I did cum and the orgasm was very intense. So much so, that I almost wanted to go again like you would want to go the second time on a roller coaster. I suppose the power of the imagination still holds court if you launch it.

Friday, March 20, 2009

piggy slut/monkey slut

I think about sex constantly. I believe I was born a gay man and ended up a lesbian.
I love women. I like men. I could have ended up a bisexual and still consider it.
I loved having sex with men (at least the fucking part). Sex with gay men was a thrill and easy. I never had to worry about complicated good-byes or them falling in love or me falling for them.

Sex now is more complicated but I still desire it just as much. I have oral herpes which sucks if you are a lesbian but it's not the end of the world. I still like to fuck like a monkey and get fucked like a little piggy.

I am weaving it all in. I chat online anonymously and have phone sex with men. I fuck myself and vibrate myself til I can't do it anymore. I have casual sex with women I date and I fall for one or two along the way. I want my heart to be full too.

About three years ago I started playing with rope. It all started when I saw a woman tied up on top of piano about five years ago. The image stayed with me. At the time, I didn't know if I wanted to do the tying for be tied, but I know now that I prefer to do the tying. It makes me feel powerful and sexy. I could just stop after the girl is bound and just look at her and masturbate and be happy. Yet, somehow, they all want to be fucked. I oblige (such hardship for me).

I want more too. I want rough hard sex, submissive humiliation and domination, I want to meet someone else who enjoys it as much as I do and share that feeling. It's hard to switch but surely there has to be another monkey pig like me.