It’s Wednesday and we just had a big night last night. I had been really horny since the last one, last weekend, and shortly after dinner she sidled up to me in the kitchen and was acting all cute, like she wanted to be grabbed and kissed, so I did that, and kind of crumpled in my arms a little bit. I said “do you want to fuck later?” and she said “well, not with stuff …” (recall that “stuff” is her word for our THC tinctures) and I said “are you sure?” and she said “let me check.” Three minutes later I got a text saying “ok,” so I texted back for her to meet me in our bathroom. The texting is so the kids don’t hear us talking about it.
So she figured out that her Wednesday morning wasn’t going to be too hard, which usually means nobody else is going to be in the office, which happens sometimes (it’s a small office and people work at home when they don’t have appointments). All I had to do was a 9am PTA meeting. I’m on the board as an at-large member; despite my vague title, I have pretty narrowly defined responsibilities. Which means it’s not weird when I don’t talk about most topics, although they might think it was weird if they knew I mainly stayed quiet because a good chunk of the discussion is selfish and useless. Anyway. I didn’t need to have my faculties intact to get through that meeting, I was pretty sure, and I turned out to be right.
We met in the bathroom and did our dosages–her 40mg THC all at once, me about 25 followed by 10 an hour later. Then we watched Golden Girls for a while and by the end, when were coming on to our highs, they were hilarious. I mean, we happened to catch a really good episode or two, it wasn’t just that we were high, although that certainly contributed. But we saw two epic bits–Blanche hallucinating from lack of sleep, and Rose’s Gustav Lindquist story, probably the best St. Olaf story except maybe for the herring war. Both were gut-bustingly funny in the circumstances. Also, Blanche being slutty can kind of get me turned on when I’m high, so the show was a good intro to our evening.
From there, it was a great night. Not a best ever. But our oral skills were on fire and the fucking and all the playing was great. The title image is where her pussy was the first time I ate her out. That wrinkle is about an inch across, for scale. I had my first two fingers up her pussy, tickling her g-spot, while I chowed on her clit. Somebody squirted. I didn’t see any fountain or anything, but I could feel the liquid running down my hand. Hot.
A while back I said something to the effect that porn cunnilingus is kind of fake a lot of the time. They set it up so the camera can see what’s going on, but a lot of what I do isn’t very visible, because I have my mouth clamped down around her clit and I’m mauling it with lips, tongue, and teeth, and literally sucking some of the time, like it’s airtight. But I should say that I have always done at least a little tongue-tip work, up and down her groove, and just stabbing her clit with it and running it around, or flicking it, or whatever. And lately she’s been enjoying that a lot, like the last few months, so we’re doing it a lot.
I guess I also lick her asshole now, too. It’s probably part of the repertoire. As I’ve been writing this blog I’ve noticed a few times now that some things we try stick, and some don’t, and when they stick it doesn’t mean they’re part of the regular repertoire, necessarily. Things come and go. Certain things happen all the time–me eating her, us fucking–but other things are almost all of the time, most of the time, rarely, seldom, whatever. Do you have to mix things up like this? I doubt it. I’m sure it’s possible to be happy with the same kind of sex every time. It even takes some pressure off, I’m sure. But I don’t know what I’d do if we didn’t mix it up sometimes.
OK, so I’ve mentioned the issue where when she’s facing away from me, and she’s trying to be quiet, and I can’t tell how much fun she’s having so I don’t get clear messages about what to stop or what to continue. So there we were, her on knees and elbows, sweet little fine ass in the air, and I’m behind her mangling her clit with the middle finger of my right hand. She’d been punished just before, some spanking and caning, for being such a bad girl. Though as usual she had also been a very good girl. But even then, was still naughty. We were pretty fired up.
Her asshole was quivering erratically, and it looked so sweet I couldn’t resist. In the very recent past I would have asked for permission, but this time I didn’t need it. With just the sharp tip of my tongue–it gets very pointy when I stretch its length–I dove in and rimmed her, tickling around the edges and stabbing her tight little hole. She gasped and the tension went out of her upper body; her arms collapsed and with her back arched, her beautiful ass at attention, begging for more. I flicked the tip of my tongue up and down, left and right, as fast as I could, and then dove my tongue in a bit deeper, pulling and pushing the sides of her anus, and swirling it around, pressing against her walls, violently erratic. I kept mashing her clit with my finger, and she was coming over and over, squealing a little and then whimpering. After a few minutes I rested. I gently scratched her back and she relaxed, falling to the bed.
She enjoyed the scratching for a short time, then asked, meekly, “can I get more of that?” I said “ask me properly.” She composed herself and primly said “may I please have more of that, master?” I said “oh yes, little girl,” and we went right back to it. This time I let loose. I started slowly again to tease her. Then without warning, I simultaneously mashed her clit hard and dove my tongue deep into her ass, forcing my lower teeth onto her anus, spreading her wide. With my lips, tongue, and teeth, I purposefully chomped and chewed her back door, violently mauling her clit with my fingers, ramming my tongue in deep, and she exploded, her whole body shaking. I kept it up for as long as the muscles in my tongue could stand it, using all of its strength to explore her insides. For two minutes I probed and chomped, and for two minutes she came, and came, and came.
But yeah, for the first half, not seeing her face, I couldn’t tell she was coming the whole time, so it was a little hard to tell if and when she might feel done. So for parts of it I did get a little distracted–is she enjoying this? Am I getting it right? Is she done? Is she worried about getting a UTI, so we should stop and clean up? The truth is I wasn’t Mr. King of Sex the whole time, even if the way I just told the story left that out. I was being sensitive, to be honest, and it did distract me from my pleasure part of the time.
But. BUT. When we paused, and my dirty little girl asked for more, and did it properly (after I reminded her–she did need to be punished again afterward), I dropped all concern for her and in the second round nothing pulled my focus away from the intimacy, the trust, the nasty, raunchy wholesomeness of it all. Every little buck of her ass or squiggle of her scrumptious little body just dove me deeper into that perfectly mindless headstate, where I’m giving her exactly what she wants but at the same, I’m stealing every shred of her dignity and completely, thoroughly owning her. NOW I’m the King of Sex.
To bring this back down to earth a little bit, there’s something else I’ve been meaning to say. And what I mean by that is, sometimes while we’re fucking I’ll think “hey, this (event that’s happening right now) is a good topic for The Cunnilinguist,” but it can be hard to remember later, after all the coming. Plus, you know, I’m pretty stoned. It’s not like I don’t remember at all; it’s more like if I do remember it, it’s probably not while I’m sitting down typing. So it may take a few times, a little repetition, before it sinks in enough, or a post like this where I’ve been writing it over the course of a few days so there’s more chance that, like now, I remember it at the right time. And this is what it is that I keep meaning to say:
I’ve mentioned before that porn depictions of BDSM are cartoony. Like the people involved are acting something out–roleplaying. That’s even what a lot of people call it, like in the sex chatrooms. Roleplay. Maybe, for them, it actually is. But it’s not like that for us when we do it. We’re just two lovers having sex. It’s hot and intimate, and when I ask her what she likes about being spanked or having her nipples tortured, all she’ll say is “it feels really good.” There is absolutely some kind of mental thing that’s involved, which is evidenced by how positively she responds to me getting fully invested in it. But what she sees and feels is still only how amazing it is, and from my perspective, I’m not acting dominant, I’m just dominant. There’s no more acting involved in our raunchiest works than there is in holding hands while we walk down the street. If you didn’t get too turned off by all the ass-licking up above and give up on this post, I hope you understand that. This is love that we’re doing.
Epilog: we were so horny the next day that I ate her out and fucked her before she left for work, and then before the kids got home from school had another quickie. It was our first sober sex for a while, and I didn’t even use sildenafil. It was fun.
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