Am I making artisan dental floss? Nope, just teasing flash cotton into a thread for some fire play. Technical notes: Twisting flash cotton into a tight thread makes it lie flat on the flesh, and burn more slowly, increasing the burning pain and the likelihood of blisters. Pulling the flash cotton into a loose, fluffy line leaves you with something that doesn’t lie nearly as flat, and burns much faster, less painfully.

And here’s a slo-mo video of a burn, using a fluffier line instead of the spun thread, as modeled by the inimitable Mademoiselle S.

Slo-mo fireplay with the inimitable Ms S.

At Burning Man 2017, my partner and I attended a demonstration called “Dinner and an Interrogation”, hosted at the theme camp Brûlée.

Two BM contributors (names withheld until/unless I get their blessing) allowed an audience to watch one of their “rough body play” BDSM scenes. The general scenario was that S had a four-digit number that M had thirty minutes to “interrogate” out of them.

Before the scene began, there was some lengthy description of what was going to ensue, so that anyone in the audience had ample opportunity to decide this was not their cup of tea (and potentially triggering) and excuse themselves.

There was an explicit discussion of consent and the absolutely essential role it plays in ethical BDSM.

M displayed a table of tools that might be used during the interrogation, and S had the opportunity to review the table and remove three items that they didn’t consent to that evening. No argument, no wheedling, no debate; bam they were off the table.

The actual scene was incredibly intense to watch, even hard to watch at times, but I was mesmerized for the entire event. There was punching, wrestling, dragging across the dusty playa ground, pressure points, paddling, tying to a chair, and even waterboarding! Somewhere around the 20-minute mark, M got the final digit from S and the scene ended and the pair immediately departed for aftercare.

There was a lot in the scene that didn’t work for me. Not that I’m being at all judgmental about someone else doing it, but a lot of it wasn’t my particular kink. For example, I have a tough time figuring how I could conduct waterboarding in a way that felt arousing. However, I was absolutely fascinated by the rapport between the two participants, their commitment to explicit and enthusiastic consent. It was a thing of beauty.

So when I saw the pair was returning for Burning Man 2018, their events were circled in red in my “What, Where, When” book. First we attended a “Rough Body Play” workshop where the same pair talked through a lot of the thinking and planning that goes into that sort of scene. As they talked through and demonstrated punching, kicking, grappling, judo throws, they spoke at length about some of the risks involved, steps to minimize those risks, alternatives for people with physical challenges. I was absolutely delighted to see the same (or even higher) level of emphasis on consent. There was also a fascinating blend of professional and serious presentation with the playful affection and obvious respect between the two of them.

Two days later we saw the “Dinner and Interrogation” scene again, this time with M and another partner, P. I was astounded to see P last the entire thirty minutes, yielding only two of the four digits to M. The difference between how S participated in the scene in 2017 and P in 2018 was night and day, and it was educational seeing the range of experiences. Once again, the entire scene was breathtaking to watch.

The very next day there was a “Fetish Friday” party at the same camp where M and S were chatting with people one-on-one and tutoring them through some specific moves. Melody and I approached them, gushed in a hugely fanboy fashion for a while, then started asking for some pointers on grappling and punching. Both M and S were enormously gracious and generous with their time, and the next thing you know we were piecing together foam grappling mats on the playa dust and stripping down for business. Melody learned a couple of ways to throw me, as well as a position where she could almost completely immobilize me. We got some pointers on how to punch more safely and then… we started talking about breath play and choking. I got some essential pointers on what to avoid, the proper places to apply pressure, different positions to try, and safeguards to follow. In the process, I admitted that I had never been choked out and and was curious about it. My rationale is that I don’t want to do something to anyone else that I hadn’t experienced myself. Asking if I really meant it and wanted to experience being choked out, M offered to oblige me.

I dropped to my knees in the dust (*ahem*) and M stood behind me with one arm wrapped around my neck, my throat in the crook of his elbow. He applied gentle pressure on the back of my head and … we stayed there for several seconds. I waved to someone in the crowd watching (I was later told we had an enormous audience), and then began to think it wasn’t going to work and even felt a small bit of sadness for M. “Aww, it’s gonna be embarrassing when the big ole dommie top can’t choke me out.” Then… something happened… and the next thing I knew my brain was rebooting. I was on all fours. It was dusty as all fuck. Flashing lights. Noisy thudding bass. I looked up and made eye contact with a human it took me several seconds to identify. Melody said it was quite disturbing to look in my eyes and not see any glint of recognition for several seconds. My first rational thought was “What happened? Did… did I just pass out?” Then I glanced to the side and saw M and recalled that I had asked him to choke me and… it all kinda popped into place. It was incredibly bizarre feeling all my systems slowly come back on line and to reconstruct what happened based on such disjointed data. It was an amazing rush!

Melody and I left for a while after that so that I could collect myself and integrate the experience. Every thirty minutes or so I would exclaim aloud with shock and wonder, “Holy crap, M choked me the fuck out!” Mind. Blown.

Oh, and I want to point out; the entire hour we spent with M and S getting tips and techniques and demonstrations, every single time either M or S was going to lay a hand on either me or Melody (to demonstrate something), they asked for consent. Every. Single. Time. Melody tells me that when M choked me and I finally blacked out, M cradled my head with great tenderness and very carefully lowered me to the ground.

Those interactions were the highlight of a really amazing burn! When you admire someone from a distance (as we did after watching last year’s scene), there’s a little apprehension about getting closer to them and finding out the reality doesn’t match the expectations. Instead, our expectations were exceeded. M and S were kind, gracious, generous, incredibly thoughtful, and I cannot thank them enough. If you at at the Burn next year (and this is your kind of kink), I strongly encourage you to look for future events with the names I listed below.

Like most women I know, my girlfriend’s prior experiences with anal sex were loathsome. There was no prior discussion or negotiation, and when it happened there was a great deal of difficulty and pain. The result was a resolve of “Nope, not for me. Never again.” that lasted for years.

When I raised the topic some months ago, S was very frank about her past experience and the overwhelmingly negative impressions it had left. Given how much trust she had in our relationship and the successes of our on-going sexual explorations, she wasn’t completely closed to the idea, but she was open about her apprehension and skepticism.

With her explicit permission, I began a very gradual process of simple, classical conditioning. I’m going to describe that in some graphic, and not always sexy, detail.

In the beginning, I just wanted to make her aware of her asshole, in the context of actions she already enjoyed. For instance, while I was going down on her, I would simply rest an oiled finger on her puckered sphincter. There was no attempt to penetrate, in fact there was only the very lightest of stroking. I just wanted her to be aware of her asshole while I was licking her pussy and bringing her to orgasm. This was a sporadic and occasional association for some weeks, but gradually became more of a regular thing; while giving her head I would lightly pet her asshole.

Once she seemed fully at ease with that pairing, and even enjoying it, I raised the stakes. After a particularly vigorous bout of pussy licking, once she was completely aroused and engaged, after several orgasms already, I asked her to roll over onto her belly. I pushed one arm under her and started stroking her engorged clit with my fingers, swiftly bringing her back to the brink of orgasm. When she was right on the cusp, I started gently lapping at her asshole with my tongue. She stiffened with surprise, I increased the speed and pressure of my fingers slightly, and she came quite loudly and enthusiastically. I reinforced that association several times, bringing her to orgasm with my fingers while my tongue licked and swirled against her sphincter.

Again, licking S’s asshole while fingering her clit and pussy was an occasional thing at first. Over the course of some weeks, it gradually became a more regular part of our sexual repertoire. Additionally, I became a little more vigorous with my tongue, licking her asshole more firmly, and even worming the tip of my tongue just a tiny bit into her sphincter.

Over time, it became quite apparent that S was deeply enjoying having her asshole licked. I began to experiment with stroking her clit and fingering her pussy a little less, keeping her just below the threshold of orgasm, and then using the licking of her sphincter as the tiny bit of additional stimulation that would push her over the edge of climax. That worked better and better over some time. The day finally came when I rolled S onto her belly and started licking her asshole intently, with no other stimulation whatsoever. It took a little time, but she finally reached a frantic orgasm from no other stimulation than having my tongue on her ass.

From there, things accelerated a bit. I started giving S head by having her sit on my face, with the tip of my pinky finger on her asshole, as I licked and sucked at her clit and labia. Slowly, with a lot of lube, I started sliding my finger inside her ass. I listened carefully for sounds of discomfort, pulled back when needed, and focused on making sure she was cumming so much from the cunnilingus that she wasn’t too distracted by what was happening to her ass. I probably didn’t get more than the first knuckle of my pinky inside her the first time, and that was just fine. Over the course of weeks, that position became a more common activity, very slowly working my finger a little deeper, and gradually moving to larger fingers. As with having her sphincter licked, eventually having her asshole fingered became a source of pleasure for her, all by itself.

From there, it was only a matter of time before we were both in the right headspace to try putting my cock in her asshole. I’ll tell that story in a little more detail later, but first stop here and stress some of the major guidelines of all this:

– Consent: Embarking on this journey was explicitly discussed and freely agreed to. There was a tremendous amount of trust involved and my primary goal all along was to make sure S never had a reason to regret that trust.

– Association: I always started with an activity S already greatly enjoyed and looked for ways to add very small forms of anal stimulation to that activity. Gradually, she began to associate the anal play with the pleasure she was experiencing. Over time, the repeated reinforcements of that association meant the anal play was pleasurable on its own, without the associated pussy play.

– Patience: This process happened over a span of six months or more. It was very important to me that every step of the journey be enjoyable and pleasurable, so that S would be enthusiastic about continuing. I let S’s reactions guide how fast and how far we progressed, focusing on being patient. The last thing I wanted was to push too hard too fast and cause a negative reaction, undoing all of the previous progress. I stayed intent on simply enjoying where we were at any given moment, being ready to back off at the first sign of discomfort.

– Hygiene: We take some very simple precautions. Make sure our recent diet is respectable, with a minimum of greasy foods. If there’s been a bowel movement since her last shower, maybe it’s time to shower again. Don’t be shy about using plenty of hot water and a soapy wash cloth to wipe at the sphincter. That minimum amount of preparation has worked fine for us; I’ve never felt like an enema was a necessary part of the process. Mostly, I refuse to worry about it. If I’m doing it right, sex is messy; I regularly end up smeared with spit, cum, lube, and pussy juice. I just don’t obsess over it; I’m too busy having fun. Thus far, there have been no messy accidents that have led me to regret those guidelines.

That has been our process, and it has worked very well. No doubt, a lot of that has less to do with the process and more to do with my extraordinary partner.

M was not gone from my life very long when I took up a relationship with S. She was a long-time friend and confidant, a member of my logical family for some years. We had even had sex a handful of times, quite enjoyably, but neither of us were in a place to pursue that more frequently or more intentionally, until M left.

Three things came together in a quite unexpected fashion when S and I embarked on a more serious relationship.

First, we started incorporating BDSM into our sex play from the outset. I had long known S was a self-described sensation junkie, with a very high pain threshold. She also had some challenges reaching climax during the early renewal of our relationship, so rougher play and BDSM were a way of reaching some of those intensely transcendent moments during sex without orgasm.

The second major factor was that I took the occasion of deepening our relationship to ask S for some details regarding her past and childhood. Most specifically, I wanted to hear the full story of several years of childhood sexual abuse she endured. This was a fraught process. S had spent a great deal of her adult life trying not to think about that part of her past, had internalized a significant amount of shame and blame about the event, and had never before shared the entire story with anyone. Thankfully, she felt like she could trust me, and we spent long hours over several different meetings going through all of the horrific details.

So there we were. Meeting once a month at the start, very soon moving to once every two weeks, and shortly after that to weekly. Talking very intensely about her childhood sexual abuse. Engaging in some fairly rough sex play and BDSM. Quite unintentionally, the two began to overlap in some unexpected ways. After rough sessions of flogging and spanking, we would take time for aftercare, soothing her skin with oil, reassuring her that she was in a safe space with someone who loved her and cared for her deeply. During those times, she would often flash back to our conversations of her abuse. On some occasions, she flashed back to specific events and details with graphic clarity. Other times she would break down sobbing over the guilt she felt over “letting” the abuse happen. I categorically reject the assertion that a seven-year-old has any agency in sexual abuse inflicted upon them and I started making that case with increasing vigor and firmness. As incredible as it seems to me, this was the first time S had gotten validation that her childhood abuse wasn’t her fault. It took a lot of time, reassurance, and discussion for that idea to begin to take root within her.

The third major factor (remember, up above, I said there were three parts?) was that all of this elevated BDSM activity motivated me to get much more serious about the practice. I spent some considerable time thinking about my own internal ethics and the moral implications of striking a woman, repeatedly and quite hard. Growing up as a good Southern boy with lessons of “you don’t ever hit a woman, ever, for any reason” left its imprint on me and I had to really think deeply about how these new sexual behaviors integrated into that. There are some past posts in this blog where I wrote about that issue at some length. I also did a bunch of research and reading in the neurological science behind pain play and why that “works” so dramatically for some people. The BDSM sessions I planned and executed for S started to follow more specific and intentional patterns, based on that research. Over the course of ten minutes I would gradually escalate a pattern of stimulation, building within S a reservoir of endorphins, ending in a climactic rush of stimulation/pain to dump those into her bloodstream. Then the next ten-minute session would immediately begin and the cycle would be repeated. We would get three or four of those cycles completed before S was effectively “tripping balls” on her own internally-produced endorphin rush.

There was one particularly note-worthy moment that brought all three of these factors together. We were in the midst of an intense BDSM scene. S was standing, arms restrained by padded wrist cuffs. I was behind her with an array of floggers and leather straps, escalating the activity towards another endorphin release. She was at a particularly vulnerable moment, the flogging was really getting to her, there were tears flowing. To this day, I don’t know quite what prompted me to do this, but as I was flogging her, I started asking her, roughly, angrily, “Whose fault was it?”

The first couple of times, she was silent and didn’t answer.

“Whose fault was it?” Thwack!
“Whose fault was it?” Thwack!
Eventually, she responded, breaking down sobbing in the process.
“It was my fault!”, tears rolling down her cheeks.
“Whose fault was it?” Thwack!
“It was my fault,” she answered, more tentatively this time.
“Whose fault was it?” Thwack!
Silence.
“Whose fault was it?” Thwack!
“His fault?”, this came nervously, tentatively, like she was trying it on for size in her head.
“Whose fault was it?” Thwack!
“It wasn’t my fault.”, this came more firmly, like she was finding sure footing.
“Whose fault was it?” Thwack!
“It wasn’t my fault!” This came out stronger still. She also stood a little taller, and did not shrink from flogger blows.
“Whose fault was it?” Thwack!
“It wasn’t my fault!” This came out as an angry shout, defiant, solid. She flared her back and shoulders, daring me to do my worst. I put my back into it and swung hard.
“Whose fault was it?” Thwack!
“It wasn’t my fault!”
“Whose fault was it?” Thwack!
“It wasn’t my fault!”
“Whose fault was it?” Thwack!
“IT WSN’T MY FAULT!”

When I released her, the aftercare was especially long, and there was a great deal of crying. However, these weren’t the hot tears of shame and violation, but the cleansing tears of release. For the first time, S was really coming to terms with releasing the responsibility she had been trying to carry.

This experience shaped much of our subsequent BDSM play. Over much time and discussion we would identify issues where she was “stuck” mentally or emotionally and look for ways to bring them to the surface during an intense scene. In the process, her confidence grew and emotional weight she had been carrying for virtually her entire life began to fall off her. She was reframing her memory of the experience, from something that defined her, into something that “merely” happened to her.

As is obvious from my previous post, S and I have been exploring anal play a bit more. This is something I’ve enjoyed with a few previous partners, but only very occasionally. S’ past experiences receiving anal have been pretty dreadful, so we’re moving slowly, carefully, and trying to build a wealth of positive associations for her before getting too ambitious.

There’s a school of thought out there that says if you expect something from your partner, you better be willing to go there yourself. More specifically, if you’re all hot and bothered to have your partner take something up their ass, it’s only fair that you be willing to do the same. “Don’t dish it out if you can’t take it.”

My personal belief is that this is more of a general guideline, rather than a hard-and-fast rule. Trying too hard to maintain a strict symmetry in relationships can backfire. Sometimes a person only likes one end of the equation, not the other, and as long as both partners are consenting and cool with that, no harm, no foul.

But, you know me; I’m in this to learn, to experience new things, to broaden my horizons. I really do want to know more about receiving anal play, so that I can be better, more informed, more considerate about how to give anal pleasure to someone else. Besides, the prostate, right?! Men have this enormous erogenous zone in their ass; how sad would it be to ignore that and the pleasure it might be able to provide?

So, there has been some fooling around with my ass lately. For a while now, I’ve known I like having my perineum stimulated. And if I’m feeling relaxed, confidently clean, and very comfortable with my partner, I enjoy getting rimmed. But I haven’t had a lot of experience being penetrated. I’ve fooled around with an Aneros prostate toy and haven’t gotten much out of it. I have an ex- with extensive medical training, and she attempted to stimulate my prostate a couple of times, with a fair bit of confusion and no fireworks. Bummer. (No pun intended.)

By contrast, S has a fair bit of experience playing with the ass of previous partners, and feels very confident in playing with the prostate. She and I have tried that a couple of times, with some minor success, but nothing earth shaking.

Yesterday, I was in the mood to up the ante. We spent a solid three hours in the “Fuck Treehouse” and tried a variety of toys: hard, soft, vibrating, static, fast, slow, gentle and rough. Without further ado, here are the toys that were up my ass yesterday:

From left to right:
First is a slender silicon butt plug, with a wee little vibrator threaded through the base. I kinda liked that. I don’t think it would have made me cum, and the vibrations were subtle, but if I did a clench and release pattern with my ass cheeks, it felt nice.

Next is a slightly girthier butt plug, with considerably stronger vibrations. Same as with the previous toy; that wasn’t enough to get me off, but I enjoyed the sensations.

Then a glass dildo, thicker still. I felt kind of “meh” about that. Glass has a frictionless glide (when well oiled) that made insertion easy, but otherwise it was uninspiring.

Then a double-ended dildo that S wore in a harness for fucking me. The cliched position for having your ass fucked is doggy style, but I’m taller than S and I couldn’t seem to get low enough for her to reach me in that position. And, of course, the curve of that dildo meant I needed to be face up for it to stimulate my prostate. That was enjoyable, primarily because of the interactivity. Watching S get off from the end of the dildo inside her, egging her on to push harder or deeper, that was fun. In hindsight (again, no pun intended), I’m surprised I handled the girth of that dildo as well as I did. Of course, there had been some extensive warm up prior to that toy.

Lastly, there is the silicon dildo attachment for the Sybian. Finding the right position to ride the Sybian was a challenge. If I really wanted the vibration to focus on my prostate (can I just start calling it the “p-spot”?), I couldn’t be resting on my knees as is traditional for a woman on the Sybian. Instead I got my feet under me and leaned backwards considerably, bracing my arms on a padded bench placed just behind the Sybian. Effective, but it was putting a strain on my arms holding myself up that way. At the end, I had S lying in front of me, sucking my cock while I perched on the Sybian. The sensation was delicious, intense, and overwhelming, but I still didn’t manage to cum. Maybe it was from the strain of holding myself, maybe I didn’t have the stimulation in quite the right spot, maybe I wasn’t psychologically ready to let go. Dunno. I enjoyed it, but no release.

Overall, I had a good time, and when I finally laid back and masturbated afterwards, the force and quantity of my ejaculation was staggering. I’d try any of the toys again, but I suspect I might need to do some shopping for the kind of sharply curved toys specifically intended for prostate stimulation.

Most importantly, the experience gave me some insights into how to improve my technique when I’m playing with someone else’s anus and rectum, and how to do that in a way that feels safe, reassuring, and (hopefully) rewarding.

Late on a quiet Sunday afternoon, I was lounging on the sofa and S was reading in the bedroom. From the other room she called out, “Do we have talcum powder?” “Nope, don’t think so.”, I replied. After a moment of silence, S came back with, “How about corn starch?” “Sure. In the cupboard, in a round, blue and gold can.” Without responding, she padded barefoot into the kitchen and then returned to the bedroom.

Intrigued, I asked from the couch, “Why do you ask?” In a matter-of-fact voice she said, “Because I was lightly stroking my clit, and I wondered what it would feel like totally dry and buttery soft, like with talcum powder. You know, instead of all wet and oily.”

Can you see why I adore this woman?

Within a bare few minutes, I could resist no longer. I got off the couch, went to the bedroom and laid down beside her on the bed, where she was idly playing with a pussy liberally dusted with white powder. With her welcome blessing, I joined in the experience, and found it was quite lovely. The powder made the skin contact soft and smooth, and the lack of oil meant I could feel every little crease and fold and all the subtle differences in the skin texture. It was extraordinary!

Despite S’ appetite for overwhelming sensations and rough play, an excruciatingly light and fairly slow touch is the surest way to get her off. With my powdered finger feathering up and down the shaft of her clit, she was ready to come in very little time. I teased her for a while, denying her that first orgasm until she begged and pleaded and offered me anything I wanted (like that’s anything new) before I allowed her to have that first shuddering orgasm. Once the dam broke, I continued stimulating her and brought her off several more times before giving her a break and letting her breathe. It was a delightful experience, and one I enthusiastically recommend.

After, her eyes twinkled and she asked hopefully, “What would you like to do next?” I did not have to think very long. “Friday night you talked about wanting to squirt again. Let’s go up to the attic and do that.” S did not need her arm twisted. “Okay!”

I hasten to point out that she hopped in the shower to briefly rinse off the corn starch; we weren’t trying to make a roux here!

In the redwood paneled attic that a friend called our “Fuck Treehouse”, we put down the “sex blanket” (a Liberator Throw) to catch any fluids, got out the NJoy Pure Wand, and brought the jar of coconut oil into easy reach. As aroused as S already was, getting her to squirt took surprisingly little time. Her ejaculate was copious and decidedly milky white. I still haven’t found the knack of making her squirt with my fingers, but the heavy steel barbell does the trick pretty reliably. As I was using the barbell on her, I provided some auxiliary stimulation by playing with her clit, then later very shallowly fingering her asshole. She soaked the blanket quite thoroughly and noisily (and happily, the mattress below stayed entirely dry).

We have gradually been exploring more ass play between the two of us, and this seemed like a good time to push that envelope a bit. (“I’d push her envelope, I tell you whut.”) We took some time to examine in a clinical fashion what she liked and what wasn’t as good. With not even one knuckle fully inserted, I demonstrated lightly jostling and bouncing my finger (her favorite), working my finger in and out without actually stroking the skin (I can demonstrate that better than I know how to describe it), and then stroking my finger in and out a way that actually stroked the skin (which was a little too intense for her).

Equipped with a better idea of what was working for her, I asked her to get on hands and knees. I inserted the narrow end of the NJoy into her pussy and played with that in the usual fashion, soon getting her to squirt a bit more. After a while I bent forward and started lapping at the puckered pink rosebud of her asshole. She groaned deeply, her face and shoulders dropped to the bed and her ass arched towards the sky. We played with that for quite a while, with explosive results. I have become familiar with how fast and how often S can orgasm, in rolling waves one right on top of the other. This was several steps beyond that. She was thrashing side to side, screaming gutturally into the pillow, utterly incoherent, one step away from a grand mal seizure. When that went on long enough that I thought she might hurt herself, I backed off slightly, stopped lapping at her asshole, let her gather her wits, and then resumed the intensity, this time stroking her clit as well. And whoosh, there she goes again. I played through several variations of that, until she begged for a break to have a drink of water.

After the briefest of respites, we decided to very carefully try to narrow end of the NJoy wand in her ass. Still in the “face down, ass up” pose, I held the wand very still and let her gradually work it inside her ass. With me holding the wand still, she could be in control of the speed and depth of the action, pausing to get used to the size and sensation as needed, then working deeper, then waiting, then again. Ultimately, she took the ball end of the wand and perhaps an inch of shaft, and that seemed to be a happy place for her. With the slightest rocking motion of the wand, I started stroking her clit, bringing her to a couple of very happy orgasms with the wand inside her. Emboldened, I slipped two fingers inside her pussy and started playing with her g-spot while the wand was still in her ass. The wall separating the rectum from the vaginal canal is rather thin, and I could clearly feel the hard ball of the wand against my fingers as I stroked her g-spot. She had several more orgasms this way, rather louder and more enthusiastically. On a hunch, I removed my fingers and just played with the wand in her ass, hoping it would tap in a diffuse way against her g-spot. It seemed successful, and she had two solid orgasms with no stimulation aside from the wand in her ass (albeit, stimulating her g-spot indirectly).

When her ass finally reached its limit, I held the wand steady and let her ease forward until the bulbous end plopped free. I reassured her that I saw no sign at all of any tearing, nor any slight bleeding, and frankly, no messy “santorum” either. I gave her well-used asshole a friendly and comforting lap or two, set the wand aside, and fell on the bed beside her as she exclaimed a tired but joyful “Wow!” Then she noticed my cock, which was rather happily erect, and perhaps even a bit larger than usual.

She attempted some profound deep throating, and found the extra smidge of length too much for her throat. She asked me to fuck her instead, and I did so with great abandon. In all honesty, I was so crazy aroused by this time that I didn’t last very long, but it was still enough to give her three or so more orgasms before I reached my own shuddering, groaning climax.

Goddamn. Is it any wonder we so rarely leave the house?

Note: Wow, I threw around a couple of brand names in this post. I want to rush to reassure readers (all two of them) that I have no connection with the companies cited and there’s no compensation whatsoever. I only mention the brands with such specificity in case someone reading thinks to themselves “That sounds nifty! I wonder where I could find one of those.”

For the first time in a while, we did not have any sex, or even any fooling around, all morning, day, or early evening. About the time we laid down for the evening, ominous rumblings started rolling through the skies and a sizable thunderstorm began to build. At the same time I crawled between S’s thighs, face down, and began to nuzzle and lick her pussy.

Often there is a progression: I lick her pussy and soon enough she begs for a finger inside her. I comply and insert a finger (or two) and after several orgasms she begs for my cock. I oblige, more orgasms happen, a good time is had by all.

That did not happen this time. S relaxed into it and accepted it as the progression naturally unfolded. This allowed me the time and space to let things build more gradually, more organically. I took my sweet time licking and sucking her pussy with my mouth. Sometimes I gave her the lightest little flicker brushstroke on her clit with the very tip of my tongue, other times I gave her soft wet open-mouth kisses covering her entire clit hood. I pulled a labia entirely into my mouth and rolled it side to side before pulling back and letting it slowly drag between my tightened lips. I lapped with a broad flat tongue straight up the center of her split wet lips. I used my wet pouty lower lip to brush over her clit repeatedly. I hiked her thighs high and wormed my tongue as deeply into her cunt as I could manage. I pulled her clit into my mouth and washed it side-to-side with my tongue. By this time, S was nearly out of her mind with pleasure, and right on the cusp of an orgasm she needed like breath itself.

With my mouth still firmly sealed over her clit hood, I slipped a finger into her dripping pussy and her hips arched off the bed like she was being electrocuted. Her orgasm broke wide open and I used my finger and mouth to prolong that peak as long as I could. Once the initial explosion subsided the slightest bit, I pulled my head and mouth back and fingered her more intently. Sometimes I stroked in and out, sometimes I left my finger buried inside her and curled it to stroke against her g-spot. I rolled my hand palm down and stroked against the taut muscles of her pelvic floor. I pushed deep and repeatedly bumped against the neck of her cervix. Whenever it seemed like her pleasure and orgasms had plateaued, I stilled my hand and resumed lashing her with my tongue, whipping her to a frenzy again. And when she had acclimated to my mouth, I returned my focus to fingering her.

As all this was happening, the storm outside our open balcony doors grew in size, with dramatic flashes of light filling the sky and low, swelling thunder echoing about the room.

After an eternity, my fingers sticky and my face smeared with her cunt juices, the scent of her firmly imprinted in my nose, I climbed on top of her and slid my cock home. The fucking lasted easily as long as all of the preamble, with as much variation. Her cries competed with the thunder and I poured myself into her like the rain falling from the sky.

For my own crescendo, I stood and led her out to the balcony. She grabbed onto the edge of the railing and faced the thunderstorm while I drove my cock into her from behind. “Don’t close your eyes”, I instructed her, “watch the show.” Fingers hooked into her hips, cooled by the breeze and the occasional bit of rain blown over us, I fucked hard and fast. Watching the storm, I fell into a strong pace and finally exploded into her at a full running gallop.


S and I are fortunate beyond measure that we have such similar and boundless appetites for sex, and it often seems incredible to us that it continues to improve over time. Even so, we are sometimes reel in amazement when a particular session establishes a fresh, personal, high-water mark for phenomenal sex. This was one of those. For fuck’s sake, the sex with this girl just blows my mind.


Roughly an hour later, we laid in bed on our sides, continuing to watch the storm raging outside. From my position behind her, I could feel her swollen pussy lips protruding back between her thighs, and I started gently brushing it with my thumb. As much as I try to push her limits, S gives every impression of being absolutely insatiable, and she pushed her hips backwards to squirm my thumb inside her cunt. It didn’t take long before out attention was thoroughly distracted from the storm and was back on our own carnal pleasures.

Soon enough, I guided S to lie face down on the bed, with her head aimed directly at the open doors to the balcony. I mounted her from behind and drove my cock into her. Fucking in this position ground my cockhead against her g-spot repeatedly, and with no finesse or artistry whatsoever, I pounded her into several orgasms before racing to my own.


One last time, as the sky was showing the very slightest hints of dawn, I woke with a powerful erection and all of the memories of the previous fucking. I lubed my cock with an excess of olive oil and told S to mount my cock from above. She stood on the bed, straddled my hips and sank her cunt down onto my cock. We rocked in that position for a bit, sometimes with her standing and squatting up and down on my cock, sometimes kneeling astride me while I bucked my hips and drove my cock into her from below. Eventually I rolled her over on the bed and mounted her again, until I came again (again!), exhausted, blissed out, and fully drained.

We rented a small motorboat and spent some time exploring some of the bays and inlets near a particularly lovely beach town. Eventually we made anchor at a completely deserted inlet and we took advantage of the privacy to fool around. I sat on the padded cushion on the bow of the boat and S knelt in front of me and sucked my cock. The boat was being rocked by the rolling waves and S made a game of kneeling with her hands behind her back and letting the buffeting waves knock her forwards, shoving her throat down onto my cock. It did not take long for this game to give me a solid erection, and we still had the privacy to use it. S swiftly doffed her bikini and laid on her back on the bow of the boat and I mounted her for a quickie on the bouncing waves. There was a little nervousness as I kept an eye on boats that might be approaching, but I managed to drive S to a couple of satisfying orgasms before finally rushing to my own, just as another boat began to approach the cove. We dressed, pulled up anchor, and puttered away. As we departed S swore the other boat’s pilot gave her a very knowing grin.


Later in the day, at another quiet bay, I was sitting at the stern of the boat while S was sprawled on the decking at my feet. I playfully stroked her bikini-clad pussy with my foot and toes. I wasn’t planning on doing anything more, but S did not hesitate to pull her bikini bottoms to the side and I stroked a little more intently with my big toe. She scooted forward and suddenly I had my big toe fully inside her pussy, wiggling and thrusting. I wasn’t sure she would like it, but she did. I wasn’t sure she could get off from it, which felt like a challenge, and so I did my best to make sure she did. I succeeded.


Even later still in the day, we piloted the boat to an even more remote location, bobbing in the water below towering 1200 ft cliffs, and took the time for a little nude photography. I’m vain enough that I want to look the best for my pictures, so S very sweetly sucked me to a very pleasant length and thickness.


Finally back home after an amazing day and a fair measure of red wine, we fell asleep fairly early. Around midnight I woke to hear S talking in her sleep. Mostly it was gibberish, but there was one clear line of dialog, a playful, teasing, “Tell me you fucked her.” Well, if she was having that kind of dream, I was certainly going to help. I very quietly applied a generous helping of olive oil to my cock and mounted her before she could fully awaken. When her eyes finally opened and focused on me, she groaned deeply and pulled me in tight. I alternated attacks, going very slow and gentle with my full body pressed on top of her, and then sometimes lifting her thighs and folding her in half with rough, savage pounding that made her scream. After driving her into one of those clusters where individual orgasms were impossible to count, I finally filled her with my own cum and fell back to the bed panting. S laid there inert, gasping for breath, and I finally got up and went to the bathroom to bring her a cloth for cleaning up.


As if that wasn’t enough, I woke again in the very dark hours of the morning and decided to fuck her again, just because I could.

This day started very early and involved a great deal of driving around in the car. I got to playfully stroke S’s pussy through her panties as we were driving, but I thought that was going to be the extent of our fun until we got back home.

However, late afternoon found us exploring a 13th century fortress, on a high peak along the coast. There were very few other people exploring the fortress, which allowed us ample time to play with S’s pussy more, until her panties were dripping wet. As even more people departed, we found a few minutes for some nude photography in the fortress. Eventually, there was only one other couple in the entire place; by being especially careful and finding some strategically deserted spots, we managed a little time for cock sucking and some very brief fucking.


Eventually it came time for the long drive home. By this point, S had removed her panties entirely as they were rather messy. I spent a great deal of the drive with my hand on her cunt, either running slippery fingers along her clit or with one or two fingers hooked inside her pussy. By the time we got back to our home base, S was a little shocked to realize I had fingered her from one side of the island to another. Apparently she had gotten a little dazed from the stimulation and orgasms, which I took as high praise.

Once home, she was eager for a suitable finally. We went down to the patio beside the pool where I fingered her a little more, while stroking my cock to erection at the same time. When I was suitably stiff, I bent her over the railing and entered her from behind; I do so love fucking with a world-class vista in front of us. I was so worked up from the day’s fun that it didn’t take me long to reach my own orgasm.


After an hour or so to rest and recover, we ended up outside again, this time reclined on patio furniture, where I gently suckled at S’s tender clit and fingered her to several more delightful orgasms.


Around 3 am I woke up a little chilly, and snuggled in closer to S for warmth and cuddles. This had the entirely predictable result of making my cock stiffen, which encouraged me to rub against her a little more and… yeah, we had sex again in the dark hours of the morning. Most lovely.

After another day at the nude beach, we came home and took a very quick dip in the pool. After, I sat on the corner of the pool with my feet on the top step and S moved over to start sucking my cock. She got chilled after a few minutes and we went inside to the bed to resume our play. She sucked my cock, and before long I asked her to pil up a finger and slip it inside my ass at the same time. She started by reaching for my prostate, but I didn’t want to climax quite that fast, so I asked her to “just” fuck my ass with her finger while she blew me. After several amazing and mind-blowing minutes of that, I told her to pull out and climb on top of me, She mounted me form above above and bounce up and down quite enthusiastically. Eventually I grabbed onto the iron bars of the headboard, and she squatted on my elevated cock and held onto the same board, both of us bucking and riding for all we were worth, the heavy meaty sounds of our groins smashing into each other filling the room.

When I was finally too worn out to maintain that position, I fell back to the bed and told S to lie on her back and open her thighs. I mounted her and fucked enthusiastically, with no goal in mind but to reach my own selfish orgasm. Happily, she seemed to stumble into one or two herself, and everything ended on a deeply satisfactory note.