So Elliott Henry's dick pic led me to thinking of another dick- namely the male man character in my “Laura and Jack” trilogy. Because I've been told so many times that “women readers don't want to read about a guy masturbating,” I decided to share this ponder that won't be appearing in the completed novel (which I hope to finish in July, during Camp Nano).
I'm working on the second book, “Laura Learns,” where Jack and Laura are experimenting with ageplay. Laura is the Little and she's naughty so she goes to bed with no “Big Girl time.” Jack, however, still has adult needs to tend after she's asleep in his bed.
Jack flipped the page of his book before closing it and setting it on the floor. “Why couldn't she just behave?” He rubbed his hand over the crotch of his slacks, adjusting his cock and balls through the fabric. He crossed the living room to turn on his stereo and picked a Vivaldi CD.
From the top of his book shelf where no one else could see, he grabbed the pornographic magazine he'd bought recently. He looked at the ceiling and listened for either Laura or Mike; with no noises loud enough from the sleeping pair, he returned to the couch.
“What kind of magazine did I buy myself?” He studied the glossy front cover. His fingers traced over the lacy dress the woman on the cover wore, her large breasts pushing at the low neckline. He leafed through the pages with glances at the women covering the pages. At the centerfold, he stopped; the model had quite a few things in common with Laura.
He found the paragraph of her likes and dislikes. Likes: Mature men, smart dressers, long walks, potted flowers. Dislikes: small cocks, pet dogs, boring sex. “Heh, well at least I'm just looking at her.” With the open magazine resting on his shins, he undid his slacks and moved them down his hips until he was able to ease his semi-hard cock out his boxer's fly.
His gaze grew hazy as the model's features mixed and melded with Laura's beauty. The hair grew darker and more wavy. He touched his cock with gentle strokes. Turning the beginning of her section, he looked at her lounging on the grass, on a white chaise lounge, before skipping a page ahead to where she had less clothing covering her.
With a big smile on her pink lips, she tugged on her knee socks; the next picture focused on her naked legs. With her short black skirt pushed up to her hips, showing off the silvery white g-string, she knelt in front of the camera with her tongue sticking out.
He spit into his palm. His slicked hand moved up and down his shaft as he looked at her pink tongue. Her g-string lowered enough to show a shaved mons pulled his gaze to the next picture. A growl slipped from his parted lips. His thumb worked over his frenulum and he pushed his feet against the couch's far arm.
“Daddy,” Laura's sweet voice replayed in his memory.
He ejaculated hard, his breath catching with his surprise. “Haven't come like that since I was a teen.” He clasped his cum in his cupped hand. Relaxing into the feeling of well-being, he rested his head on his couch. His stereo system made a few clicking noises as it moved on to the next song.
“My Little girl.” He grinned. “Time to clean up and hold you as we sleep.”
And now you should go enjoy the other #MasturbationMonday hoppers- who may or may not have written from the inspiration picture.
Trying a new sleep pattern- went to bed at 12:30am, woke to kitty demanding attention at 5:30am, once this is posted, I'll be going back to sleep, hopefully no later than 7:30am.
It seems ironic to me that the inspiration picture didn't quite inspire me; I'm a nudist as are several of my characters and “going commando” is such a thing as not to commented on. In fact, as I type this up, I'm naked. However, with a roommate who was raised by repressed Christians, as far as I can tell, and is a “Thirty-something gamer guy,” I now have to wear clothing- when he's home- and I hate it!
“Master, could I please have laptime?” I swished on my feet and tugged at a curl.
“Are you wearing panties?” Master asked in disbelief.
“Well my nakey is terrifying.” I giggled and turned around to rub the cotton of my new purple-and-white striped panties against His comfy pants-covered crotch. “Count as a chair dance?”
“Count as a sentence?” He laughed.
“Of course, Master! Whole sentence happened in my head.”
“Come here.” He held a hand out and I accepted His help to set onto the chair between His legs before settling on His thighs.
I settled down onto His lap and rested my head on His shoulder. “Love You, Master.”
“Love you more.” He kissed my forehead.
My thoughts whirled in their usual stimming, but I paid slightly less attention to them. Releasing a soft breath, I closed my eyes. He rocked the chair and rubbed my temple. “Hey! That's cheating, Master,” I lazily argued.
“But you're falling asleep.”
“I was gonna... gonna... um, beg... sex!” I blinked my eyes as I tried to fight His calming touch. I wiggled my butt against His crotch.
“Tease!” He cupped one boob through my lacy camisole.
“Yupper, Master!” I giggled and wiggled my butt again.
“Yes, sometimes, Master. But right now, I really really want you to fuck my cunt!” I grinned up at Him. I scrambled out of His lap, focused on not hurting Him or stepping on His computer- I really shouldn't do that.
“Ouch! That was my toe.”
“Sorry, Master.” I toe-jogged my way to the bedroom with Him close behind. With a grunt, I landed on my stomach when He pushed me onto the bed. I squealed happily as He yanked off my panties. I arched my back to help take off my camisole when He flipped me onto my back, grabbed my hands and pinned them above my head before using His other hand to yank my shirt so it covered my face.
“Don't move!” He stopped touching me.
I thought I heard the sounds of Him taking off His clothing. Before I could do more than a moment of questioning His order, my body sung with contentment to feel His weight pushing down on me. I moaned into my shirt as He pushed my legs apart with a knee.
“No need to beg. I wanna feel you come,” He growled.
“Hmm!” I moaned, my lips closed against the fabric. His cock drove into me and I wrapped my legs around His waist, my feet pressing against His upper thighs. After thrusting into me for some time, He pulled out and propped my legs on His shoulder. As He pushed back in, I had went I expected was my first orgasm of this use.
He pressed His cheek against the sole of my foot.
My fingers wriggled against a pillow above me. My chest struggled to expand as the position and His weight made it tricky to breathe in. Nails longer than usual, my fingers curled in tight and pushing into my palms, they gave me a delicious taste of pain.
He pulled out again and I found myself moved. A folded pillow pushed under my hips and my legs pushed apart again. He thrust back into my cunt.
I screamed with cumming in this wonderful position; porn changes position too often for most women to orgasm? I'm glad I'm agender and not like most of those assigned female at birth.
Wrestling my shirt off, He then pushed my hair aside when I turned my head to breathe and pressed a kiss to my cheek.
“Yes, Master.” My toes pushed down into the piled blankets. I stretched my hands out and moaned when He wrapped His fingers into them. I pushed up hips back so His cock went farther into me.
This time when He pulled out, He moved behind me and rolled me onto my side. He grabbed my left leg and thrust into my cunt from behind.
The orgasm was immediate and almost overwhelming; thank everything that's holy for G-spot orgasms and spooning!
“Where you want my cum?”
“In my cunt, please, Master.” Please not too many questions that I think I answered in a full sentences, but didn't. I reached back to grip His hip.
With my arm out of the way, He slapped the side of my right boob.
My orgasm fluttered and continued.
“Like being my fucktoy?”
“Yes, yes, Master!” I release His hip and grab the side of the bed.
My arm moved again, He pushed my upper body onto the bed. His hand tight on my hip, He pounded into my cunt.
My toes curled when He grunted His own coming.
We lay panting, our bodies tangled.
“Love you, Master.”
“Love you more. Good fucktoy.”
I'm still struggling to wake up, but I wanted to be all responsibility. I may be months into recovery from my nervous breakdown, but producing 1000 words or more a day is still the exception, not the rule. That said, I'm planning ahead for Camp Nanowrimo in July. I have 10 posts planned between #MasturbationMonday and #TherapeuticThursday; unfortunately, I've only managed to finish 2 of those planned posts so far. But I'm going to give you a taste of the mutual masturbation scene that'll post on the first Monday in July.
With the last candle lit on the far book shelf, Taryn switched off the overhead light. They turned toward the pair of bean bags they'd set up for this evening.
Holpa looked up from her book. “I suppose I shouldn't try to read in this low light.”
Taryn laughed. “Probably, since you have a paperback.” They settled into the purple silk they'd draped over their bean bag. “Was there anything you needed?”
“Weren't we going to share a drink first?”
“Heh, yeah. I'll be right back.” Taryn poured a finger of vodka into each tall, clear glass before topping it off with sparkling water and a dash of mango juice. “There you are,” they said they handed Holpa's drink to her. “Before you start drinking, let's agree to what we're doing.”
Holpa nodded. “This first time, we wanted to watch each other masturbate. At the same time, but not as a race. We agreed that friendship and vanilla sensuality comes before any BDSM.”
I'm feeling really off-kilter today; don't ask me why. Interesting inspiration picture, but after writing special scenes for my Master focused on anal plugs, I'm feeling tapped out on the subject. I could easily blame my feeling off-kilter on a bunch of things. Sighs. At least the heatwave of last week broke; at its worst, it got to 92 degrees Fahrenheit in my house. Hey, maybe that means there should be ice in my piece for today :D
Lady Audrey reclined on the blanket, her forearms holding her up.
“Thanks for spending this time relaxing with me, my Lady,” Didier murmured.
“Since you asked for cuddles outside, I had to see what you were thinking, my boy.” She pressed the soles of her feet against his.
“I was watching this episode on Ash Hardell's YouTube channel and it made me think, my Lady. Outside, a nice blanket, ice cubes, and closeness. It's just on the side of wanting cuddles, my Lady.”
Audrey laughed. “Well, outside of AC. I could stand cuddles from you any time you're willing.”
He lowered his eyelashes and blushed, the heat coming in small circles in his cheeks. “Thanks, my Lady.” He spread his toes so she could press hers between his.
“I love your aesthetic choices when given permission for moments such as these.” Her gold nail polish catching a glint of sunlight, she traced bowl's rim as the ice cubes clinked against each other. “Might I use one of these ice cubes on you?”
“Yes, please, my Lady.” His shoulders twitched in delight.
Clasping one cube between her thumb and index finger, she stroked his lips. “Let me know if anything gets too sexual for your comfort.”
“Yes, my Lady.” His pulse increased with her caring respect.
Drops of moisture leaving a trail on his bronzed skin, she pulled the ice down his shoulder and onto his bicep. She repeated the gesture oh so slowly on his other arm. “Your toes aren't feeling ticklish today, are they?” She backed up onto her knees just beyond his feet.
“You know the question always makes me feel ticklish even if I wasn't already, my Lady.” Didier grinned. “Not that I'm begging you to stop.”
“Though maybe not your toes need ice.” She pressed the ice against the sole of his foot.
“Ah!” He threw back his head, his shaggy black bangs moving away from his eyes.
She drew the ice cube away and moved it over her body, clad as it was in a tempting yellow string bikini. Her skin sparkling with beads of moisture, she asked, “How about that cuddle now?”
“Yes, thanks, my Lady. Thanks for understanding me without needing to hear specific words.” He moved onto his side and entered her embrace as she entered his. He rested his fingers against the nape of her neck as the coolness and heat of her moved over him. “Love you, my Lady.”
“Love you.” Lady Audrey pressed a kiss to Didier's forehead.
So this is a little long, but I was inspired, even if not by the inspiration picture. :D I recently saw the meme about FRIES from Planned Parenthood; here's the article about it on Bustle.com. I was happy; I only had to look up the I (for informed) on my Master's phone because I wasn't online just then. I find it quite ironic since “informed” is often one of my arguments for the poorly written “BDSM romance” that get published too much. I'm gonna fangirl now hehe- if you want some good BDSM erotic romance, I suggest Tymber Dalton and our Kayla Lords for well written and informed BDSM fiction.
“I spotted something from Planned Parenthood that might make a fun sexual game.” The Queen grinned at Audrey. “I do so love fries, don't you?”
Audrey snorted. “What are you up to, boy?”
“Well someone had left stuff with the OWL materials. Fry?” He held out a crispy light brown, thick cut french fry to her, its end shimmering with curry sauce.
“Sex with food?” She arched an eyebrow.
“No. It is a lovely, new acronym about consent.”
“Ah, a consent game. I like those as much as D/s games. However I'm not familiar with this acronym yet. Please, teach me, lover.”
He swallowed the fry he'd been chewing. “But there is consent even in D/s. You made sure I understood that early in our play.” He took another bite of a fry as he wiggled his hips suggestively at her.
One finger in a raspberry red curl from her twist-out do, she watched his antics.
“Okay. So you did not directly answer my question. Do you love fries or not?”
“I'm gonna spank your little pasty ass if you don't stop teasing. You know I love fries, but I'm on a diet right now.”
“Well in this case, we are not talking about fries to eat, but the new teaching about consent. F for freely given, R for revocable, I for informed, E for enthusiastic, and S for specific. FRIES. They did have nice paragraphs elucidating on these terms on the pamphlet I read.”
“So, you wanna leave those french fries here and we can work on the rest of this consent in my bed?” She cackled. “Or is this like a BDSM negotiation that shouldn't happen in the bed or play space, as the case may be?”
“I think we are more than good to relocate to your bed as we are both sober and I know I wanna touch your lovely body in any way you will let me.” He showered her with a lopsided grin as he leaned closer over the table to caress the table beside her hands.
“I love when a little informality slips into your word choice and it isn't about being upset.” She clasped his hands a moment. “Come on.” She pulled off her tank top as she walked, tossing the cream-colored silk to the floor.
“Good to have subs,” he joked. His red shirt joined hers on the floor as he hurried to catch up to her.
“Yeah.” She turned on her bedroom light. “So far, you're only consenting to getting in my bed, right?”
“For now. Good being specific.”
“Are you sure we aren't too old for this?”
“Never to old for consent.” He shucked his pants and tossed them by her wall. “May I please kiss your lips?”
“Most definitely.” Her eyelids slid down and she leaned in to meet his searching lips in the softest press of passion. “I'll always be glad I met you.”
“Me too,” he murmured against her lips.
“I guess me being out as a trans woman who hasn't had surgery counts under informed?”
“Sure does. As much as it leads my mind to what I would like in your bed.” He lifted his hands to about her shoulders and she met his hands with her own.
“And what would that be?” She looked from her dark brown fingers interlocked with pale pink fingers to his ice blue eyes.
“Our bodies twisted into a delightful 69, our cocks in each others' mouths, our hands moving over skin, genitals, assholes, until I pull off your cock to beg you to fuck my ass. I might like a little spanking before the fucking.”
She rolled her eyes. “Sure, lover. You gonna mess up the sheets first?”
“Nah. I am going to beg to pull you into bed with me.”
She nodded and then laughed as they tumbled onto her vanilla-scented, scarlet-colored comforter. “You are such a gorgeous, gorgeous man. I love that you love eye contact.”
His lips parted. “Kiss?”
“Yes.” She caught his lips with hers. After a long moment, she tapped her tongue against his lips. She groaned when he allowed her tongue to slip into his mouth. Her legs slipped between his before he twisted his calves around hers.
“Oops,” he murmured.
“Nah, it's good. But I wanna move onto that 69-ing we agreed to.” The moment he released her legs, she scrambled on the bed so she lay on her side with her face just about his thighs. His skin smelled of jeans, pine, and finally him. She parted her lips and pulled his semi-hard cock into her mouth. Her ass clenched with pleasure when his mouth wrapped around her cock.
He grasped her hips as they settled into the connection. His breath tickled the short hairs on her balls and inner thighs as he enjoyed her as she enjoyed him. Then he started to move, his mouth going up and down on her cock.
Her hands tightened around his thighs. She pushed her lips to the base of his cock, her tongue moving against him. As he groaned around her cock, she reached up to stroke his balls. That feels so good, she thought as he repeated her gesture. Her fingers slipped onto his taint as she searched for his prostate.
His high pitched whimper of ecstasy echoed through the room. He pulled his mouth off her cock. “No spanking. Gonna need you to fuck me soon if you keep massaging and sucking me like that.”
She felt her smile in her cheeks.
“Not that I'm complaining.”
His mouth reclaiming her cock made her feet flex against the bed. She pressed her tongue against his shaft. Her fingers moved through his thick, black body hair again as she worked on his prostate externally and squeezed his balls in time with her sucking.
Didier appeared just then to place a small bowl of coconut oil where she could see it.
Audrey pulled off The Queen's cock. “Thanks, love.”
“Of course, my Lady.” Didier hurried off.
The Queen paused in sucking her cock. “Finger cot?”
“Not unless you've been with anyone outside our families and should be tested.”
“Not me. Coconut oil lube then?”
“Sounds like paradise. Just one finger, little boy. You have big hands.” She licked his glans before working her way down his hard shaft. Her hands tightened on his hips as one slippery finger worked its way into her asshole. She went rigid when his fingertip wandered across her prostate. I hope whoever I go to bed with tonight is good with just cuddling. His prostate seemed to pulse against her fingers. Her muscles relaxed into spasms of release. She keened with pleasure as he flicked his tongue against her frenulum.
He continued to torture her with the intense stimulation.
She reached for some of the coconut oil near her. Nails recently trimmed. She gathered up a dollop with her index finger before reaching around to stroke him between the cheeks, first the trembling ring of muscle, then gently into his asshole as he relaxed with deep groans. With the change from external to internal massage, she tasted the first bit of his pre-cum. She added a finger and tapped them against his prostate.
He pulled off her cock. “Please, please, fuck my asshole! Whatever position you want me. Rough, just move me!”
At his pleading, she pulled off his cock and pushed him flat on her bed. She kneed his legs apart and reached under him to unbend his cock. She smiled when he arched his lower back, presenting his hole to her. She grabbed more oil and stroked her cock with it. She eased her foreskin down a little more before thrusting into his asshole. “You feel so good,” she moaned.
The comforter muffled his response into unintelligible sounds.
She grabbed his shoulders and fucked him hard. The tight sheath of his asshole caressed her shaft as her balls pulled up tight against her body. “Don't know how long I'll last before shooting my wad into your pretty little ass.”
He turned his head so his cheek pressed into the bed. “Come whenever you're ready. I already feel so wonderful from your loving.” He straightened his head so his lips again pressed into the comforter. His fingers curled into the fabric.
Closing her eyes, she bathed in the sensation of making love to him. She pushed her hands under his hips and lifted him so she thrust deeper into his asshole. She pressed her open mouth against his shoulder, but didn't bite. “Gonna. Gonna fill.” She pounded into him. “Love. My. Love.”
Grunting, he pushed back his hips even as he gripped his asscheeks.
The cum pushed out of her into him as the orgasm and ejaculation seemed to make her heart skip a beat. With the rush of her own pleasure, he grunted again and then went rigid. She kissed the back of his neck where his hair had fallen aside.
His hands slipped to the bed. He lifted his head slight to ask, “Good game?”
“Yeah.” She rolled to his side. “Good game. Cuddle for awhile before a shower?”
“Sounds good. Then we can have some more of those fries Didier made us.”
She laughed. “Sure, lover.”
Not feeling too good, so it took me until Monday morning to manage to finish this piece, but the gorgeous inspiration picture Kayla picked by @EdgeEcstatic totally gave me the idea for the scene; I'm so glad he shared the image on Twitter. To me, he totally looked like Ely, after he'd lived with The Queen awhile and had the chance to grow out his hair some.
The Queen shook talcum powder over Ely's naked body. He rubbed the powder over pecs, abs, thighs. Holding a pair of dark brown leather pants, he ordered, “Boy, step in.”
His trembling just visible, Ely stepped in with one leg, the powder easing the way. He gazed into his Master's piercing blue eyes as his body obeyed the rest of the order.
“Good boy,” The Queen purred as he cupped Ely's cock over the removable panel. He lifted a black leather vest and held it for the boy to slip his arms in. After buttoning the two shiny brass buttons at the bottom, he traced his index finger down the middle of Ely's chest.
“My Queen,” Ely whimpered.
The Queen secured a thick gray leather band on one of Ely's biceps and then the other. He crossed the room to remove a tub of coconut oil from a chest. He took Ely's right hand and squeezed some oil onto the palm. Then he sat in a nearby throne. “Remove the crotch piece and make yourself come.”
“Yes, my Queen.” Ely's thin fingers sought out the edge of the leather piece; the echo of the button halves separating filled the room. The leather falling to floor, he grasped his semi-hard cock with his right hand. His shoulder length blond hair fell forward.
“I like this longer hair, boy.” The Queen palmed his erection through his jeans. He adjusted himself so he didn't push against the zipper. He let a grin appear on his parted lips as Ely's hand slid up and down his hardening cock. Feeling his pulse increase, he enjoyed the show. Gleaming moisture collected across the parts of Ely's chest revealed by the vest. His fingers wandered over his own chest; he wallowed in the intense pleasure. “How hungry are you, my boy?”
“Huh, Queen?” Ely grunted.
“How. Hungry. Are. You? To come? To make me come?” The Queen taunted, carefully pronouncing his words.
“Both. Very. Come. Please, my Queen.” He pulled his foreskin up with his next stroke before pushing it back down for his fingers to move over his glans.
“What was my order?” The Queen pinched his nipple; his toes curled into the carpet.
“To... to make myself... come.” Ely's hips swayed back and forth. “My Queen.” His left hand traveled to his chest, moving through his gorgeous hair.
“I want you to come into your hand and then bring it to me.” The Queen's tongue moved against the inside of his mouth.
“Yes! Yes, my Queen.” Ely panted and rocked on his feet. His left hand slipped down to rub and squeeze his balls.
The Queen pulled the button loose on his jeans and pulled the zipper down. He eased his hard cock out. His hands both moved to his chest, fingertips traveling through his dense chest hair.
Ely grunted. “Yes, my Queen! Ca--coming! My Queen! Unh!” He wrapped his hand around the head of his cock. He dropped to the floor, his left hand and knees stopping his fall. Crawling one handed, he quickly made it to The Queen.
Leaning over, The Queen grabbed Ely's right fist with one hand and his hair with the other. He lead Ely's mouth onto his cock before he pried open the fingers holding onto the cum that he feasted on.
Deep groans and grunts sounded from around The Queen's cock. Ely rocked his hips as the first spurt of The Queen's cum hit the back of his throat.
“Good boy.” The Queen's hand tightened in Ely's hair. His feet moved to press against Ely's hips. “Good, good boy.” He let the boy's wet hand fall to his knee as he leaned forward to kiss his moist forehead. “And now to the music room to relax.”
“Thanks, my Queen,” Ely gasped, his mouth resting on The Queen's lower abs.
Check out the other hot bloggers taking part in #MasturbationMonday this week here.
Looking at Elliot's wonderful picture led me to a thought of a character I haven't worked with in awhile. Sure, it's only been a few weeks since you've seen Audrey (if you regularly read my #MasturbationMonday posts), but I wanted to consider Iven's cock (and genitals) since Kayla mentioned that we “were a little low on cocks.” Well if you know me, that's practically an invitation for me to work with transgender and/or non-binary characters.
Audrey held the car door open for Iven. “Get in, my sweet boy.”
“Thanks, my Lady.” With careful movements, Iven settled himself into the passenger seat of Audrey's car.
She slipped into the driver's seat and revved the engine before easing out of the parking spot. “Any thoughts about what the doctor had to say?”
“I'm so glad she said I'm all healed, my Lady. Not having to be as careful about heavy lifting? I'm still unsure about my decision not to have my vagina closed or the procedure where they make it possible for me to pee standing.”
She reached beyond the car console separating them to pat his knee. “Can you put your finger on what's causing your uncertainty, lover?”
Iven laughed. “Lover? Okay, if you like calling me that, my Lady. I don't know. Maybe I'm unsure what it means to me to be a man, since it's not like our culture gives me much valuable guidance.”
“I find you to be an entirely gorgeous man, if that helps.”
“Thanks, my Lady.” He dragged his bright pink tongue over his lips. “My Lady, the doctor did say I'm ready for genital-based sexuality, at least from a physical perspective.”
“Yup.” She grabbed a look out the corner of her eye to see his hopeful expression. “Would you like to spend some time in my bed this afternoon since you're still off work?”
“I would like that very much, please, my Lady.”
She dropped a quick kiss on his cheek. “Rest your eyes and we'll enjoy my bed as soon as we get home.”
Iven stood at the doorway to Lady Audrey's bedroom. His heart seemed to pound in his ears.
As she pulled down the comforter and flat sheet, Lady Audrey watched him.
“I hadn't had any gender confirming surgeries yet, the last time I was in your bed, my Lady.” He brushed his fingers over his thigh. So glad no phalloplasty meant no skin graphs.
She nodded. “Are you feeling better in your body?”
“Very much. Thank you for all your help with it, my Lady.” Why is she treating me like it's my first day as a sub?
“Strip and place your hands on your neck,” she ordered.
He yanked off his sweats and shirt before tossing them toward her hamper. One foot at a time, he stepped on the toes of his socks and pulled his foot out. He sucked in a deep breath and held it with his fingers inside the waistband of the red boxer briefs Lady Audrey had bought him. With a shake of his head, he released the held air and pushed the underwear down his body. I picked the correct procedures for my comfort. I like the way my body looks now. Her low moan drew his gaze up to her face.
“Should we have renegotiated things before you stripped?” she growled.
“No, my Lady. We've already worked through new language I find comfy and I'm all healed. I'm excited to see if and how I appreciate your touch even more 'cause I like my body this way.”
“Was the pause in removing your underwear about worries on what I'd think of your cock size?”
He swallowed hard as he followed his hands against his neck. “Yes, my Lady. I like it, until I'm reminded about how small I am in comparison.”
“To other guys' cocks? Or to mine in specific?”
“Um, in general, I think, my Lady.” He tightened his fingers' interlacing.
“Do you need to put on your sports binder to feel comfortable?”
“Please, my Lady!”
“Go do it and then resume position!”
Iven ran to his room, nabbed his tan-colored sports binder from its spot in the drawer, before he pulled it up his body. Adjusting his breasts so they were compressed better, he tried to slow his breathing. He returned to her bedroom with more controlled steps.
“There. You feel better?”
“Yes, thanks, my Lady. My offer still stands if you wanna get top surgery.”
“I know, my Lady.”
“Rearrange the pillows and blankets so you can lay in the middle of my bed, be comfortable, able to breathe.”
“Yes, my Lady.” Iven ran across the carpet and slid on his stomach up her bed. The pressure of his cock pressed against the comforter zinged pleasurably through him. He rose to his knees and piled two pillows together against the headboard. Releasing his breath, he then pulled as much oxygen as he could in his binder. Good thing it's just the sports binder. He lowered his body back flat before turning over and resting from his shoulders up on the pillow.
“Very good, my boy. I have some plans for you.”
Maybe I'm too much in a noveling space (finishing up work on a novel WIP during Camp Nanowrimo as I put together this post), but as you can see, this is already like 800 words and there is no genital-based sex. Audrey says you need to come back next week for part 2.
I debated and even asked Kayla's opinion on Twitter about what I'm going to share. Asked in my fan group on Facebook. The inspiration picture she chose for this week is certainly hot, but I already had this idea in my mind. If you read this week, you got to enjoy Audrey and I experimenting sexually after I came out as non-binary; this week, The Queen is going to help me process my gender and sexuality:
I haven't masturbated since I went on an anti-depressant; I just haven't been interested, although partnered sexual intimacy is good. I tried once and couldn't get into it... and then The Queen joined in...
My right hand between my thighs, my left hand worked the Kindle's buttons. Even my favorites to masturbate to weren't quite doing it.
Then The Queen appears. He grabs my legs and places my feet against his shoulders.
I feel the phantom lube as my fingers speed up over my clit.
“Think unbound clitorophallus,” he whispers. “Be my good little boy.”
My heart lurches. I didn't tell you already that I'm wearing my chest binder to masturbate in yet, did I? It gives me such gender euphoria.
Lubed up now, The Queen's unbound clitorophallus slides into my chocolate starfish.
“That's a good boy, pleasing your master,” The Queen laughs. He drives his phantom unbound clitorophallus into my ass and I come hard- my finger and the virtual penetration mixing with the binder's sweet pressure to overwhelm my seeming inability to masturbate to orgasm. “Such a very good boy. I love fucking my good boy.”
I cannot imagine this orgasm ever ending; how it rushes through me in wild circles.
“You kept me waiting. Bad, bad boy. I shall fill your ass fast.”
My fingers jerk against my bound clitorophallus at bad. “Please, my Queen,” I beg.
He grunts and pounds his unbound clitorophallus into my ass; he wasn't joking.
“Yes, yes, please, please!” I cry.
“Good boy, good ass.”
I shudder even as I'm held in place by his weight.
“Uh!” He clasps my ass cheeks and stills. “Good boy.”
Ha! The inspiration picture for this week goes what was already in my mind! So in the post-going on anti-depressants, I've come out to myself as non-binary (if you're interested and would like to see the before-and-after hair, I have a 6.5 minute vlog about it). I've had a lot of ponder, as my regular blog readers can no doubt imagine. :D I joined some Facebook groups because I'm 40 and it mostly seems that white millennials are the people talking about being non-binary on YouTube. 2 experiences gave me the idea for the scene you're about to enjoy: 1. After nearly a decade of refusing to wear a bra after a medically necessary breast reduction, I got a fitting at Victoria's Secret, where I was able to explain what I wanted in a sports bra and the wonderful employee got me a sports bra that gave me gender euphoria. 2. A friend gave me a chest binder that didn't work for them and I put it on for a few minutes right from the mailing package... and I felt such gender euphoria that I was grinning like the Cheshire Cat for hours afterward. So the inspiration picture from Mrs. Robinson, the black hands holding the white breasts, almost led me to change what Audrey has been painting in my head...
Gazing at the pile of every possible color or pattern in the style of sports bra that gave me gender euphoria that Audrey bought me, I ponder which one I want to wear now. I select the white bra and pull it down over my head. I lift my gaze from the pouch of my belly; Shaman and Audrey tell me it's slight, but I struggle to believe them.
Audrey coughs to clear her throat. “I thought you'd decided on the bottoms; you aren't going to let your ponder overwhelm your euphoria, are you?”
I close my eyes and simmer in the feeling of my breasts mashed in such a comfortable way. This is one way gender euphoria feels in me; Audrey gifted me the chance to feel it many times over. Eyes still closed, I reach beside me on her bed for the wrap skirt she offered for this dance. My fingertips glide over the silk before I feel her warm hands wrap around my shaking hands. I let her pull me to my feet.
“Wrapping, not comprehension, like the conversation in your ASL learning group about talking about a chest binder,” Audrey murmured as she wrapped the silk around my belly at the navel. “Are you sure you want a sports bra, not your binder, now?”
“Sports bra. You offered a dance, love.” I press my face against her beautifully small breasts. I push my lower body back to allow her to finish wrapping me. The sensation against my skin startles me when she pulls the sash tight to tie it.
“There, love.” Audrey cups my ass to bring my lower body back against her.
My being vibrates with the perfection of the sports bra, the wrapped skirt, Audrey's embrace.
With my face still against her breasts, Audrey kisses my forehead as she leads us in a small circle across the carpet. “I can feel your mind racing. Have you decided differently on what you want now? Are you maybe being too limited in your understanding of what sex is?”
“True.” I breathe in to appreciate the vanilla body lotion she used to for me. “Please.”
Audrey cups the back of my head where the hair is buzzed short. “I trace the graceful slope of your shoulders, my fingers light on your preciously pale skin. Your thighs squeeze my knee. My fingertips continue down to your adorably tiny fingers.”
While her embrace doesn't change, I feel her words as actions. I sigh in time with another circle of our impromptu dance floor. I want...
“I reach around your shoulders to caress your back among the straps of your enchanting bra. I love how it aids you in feeling good about your chest. My hand continues to your lower back, where you feel so much more pleasure.”
The echoes of her touch caress my mind, lower back, and between my legs. A gasp of arousal escapes my lips to be swallowed by her soft skin. The image of her cock sliding into me wets my appetite for more of her words. I curl my toes into the carpet. “Gentle, love.”
“I wrap my hands around your slender hips. I simply clasp you as you move your hips in a simple infinity motion. That's my baby. You make me wanna come so hard when you dance on me like that. This beautiful person that I love so much.”
I nibble on my bottom lip; she changed to person instead of woman without me even having to ask. The release of orgasmic sensations spiral through me.
“Just like that, lover. You found yourself. I just had to start your journey. You're a person when we make love. Now I lift you so you wrap your legs around my waist as my cock slips into your cunt. Cunt still good?”
“Perfect, lover. I don't want that many words to change for me. Feels so good. Does it make you sad--“
“Baby doll, I'm good with what makes you comfortable. Why would what you need to feel good make me sad? I squeeze your adorable ass as I move you on me.”
“Come on my bra,” I whimper between moans.
She lifts one eyebrow even as she kisses me hard.
For one long moment, I concentrate on my bags of fat staying still within the sports bra. I squeeze my muscles around Audrey's cock for a long moment as I hear echoes of her “You're a person when we make love” stir within my mind. I kiss her neck.
“One suggestion, love. Think of Ash's binding video, not your hateful phrase. I love to think of your heart within your handsome chest.”
My legs from knees to toes press into her soft carpet. I press my palms against my silk-covered knees and tilt my head back to look up at her face. I close my eyes and open my mouth. Her left hand presses on my shoulder.
“Yes, yes, love you.”
Warm and sticky, I luxuriate in the feel of her cum where it lands on me. “Love you, sweet Audrey.”
So, it's been weeks since I did this hop; it's been almost a month since I saw a psychiatrist as I'm writing this. I've been struggling to start writing before 10:30pm, even though I'm taking part in a writing challenge. The good thing about the medication is that it doesn't seem to have any sexual side effects, but that equally says I've made a habit of not writing in my depression and I can't seem to undo that habit. Well, I'm trying; I'm starting to write the sexy part at 6:12pm. It's a start. :D Audrey's in purple...
New boots. Few things make me as happy as new boots. Even with fishnet stockings on, I've still put talcum powder in the feet part to help with breaking them in. The laces press pleasantly into my shins then knees then thighs as I tighten them. After the second boot is on me, laces tightened, I let my hair fall from the clip so it half hides my face.
Do the boots and fishnets balance out the hair style in terms of gender presentation?
It's been a long time, sweet Audrey, since you asked what my gender is when I'm making love to you.
I've been trying to get your attention since you had fun with your hair, love. The boots look good on you; remember to call your therapist back.
Killjoy! You're supposed to be helping me write something sexy. Come here.
And do what? Let me bend you over and pull these tights down a bit. Yup, I agree with Shaman. You have a damn fine ass that I just love to grab. Are you feeling gendered now? Or are you feeling too needy of my touch to care? Tell me what you want, little love.
Has it been so long that my yes, our relationship isn't enough? Or are you feeling too mentally greedy for my words? Because your nails are just long enough to trace over my labia, between them, over my clit. Did you think to tease me with Onyx's aftercare blanket folded on your luscious bed?
Yes, love. I do love your body shining as with your psychiatric medication and heading toward menopause. Now who'd think that was sexy? Though with you loving my 69-year-old self? Look up at the screen of my thoughts as I part your lips with the tip of my tongue. You don't want other words for body parts?
Nah. I'm just naming a sense that was always there. Well, maybe. You mind “bound clitorophallus” for me to read, hear, think the word about my own body?
Sure, let me trace the hood of your bound clitorophallus, let me tease that erect clit as it fills with more blood. I love the way your thighs tense, first to keep your legs apart, then to keep my head right where it is. It's too long; will you come fast for me, love? Letting my hands slip down these boots, these stockings on your beautiful legs is leading me to my own pleasure.
Yes, yes! Need your tongue inside me, please. Let it slide into my cunt. Yes! I can't control my thigh muscles anymore, love. Your touch feels beyond amazing. Like that, just like that. I love feeling your tongue swirl around inside me, pushing my orgasm to continue. A gasp and groan in one escapes my lips only to be smothered by Onyx's blanket as you grab my hips to pull me up onto the bed, my knees pressing into the softness.
My cock slides into your wet pussy, my balls swinging forward to tap your lips, your bound clitorophallus. Your muscles squeeze so I wait a moment, my unbound clitorophallus to the root inside your sweetness. The black constriction of your boots makes me worry a moment about coming too fast; I wanna feel you come when my cock's inside you at least once. I reach forward to brush your hair to the side so I can see your eye, your parted lips. Moan for me, love.
I can't hold back my rippling pleasure as you start a slow withdrawal and thrust. Practicing belly dance blips on my mind's screen before I can only think on you joined with me. Coming, love. Can you feel it? You feel so good.
That's my girl. Ha, my. Let's recast the my's and say vanilla can be my too. Can we say that my is plural, like you and you? Because my is we and we're both feeling good. I can't hold back too much longer. You feel so good and vanilla lovemaking with you always seems so short since we don't have the foreplay or the other play of BDSM interaction.
But you know I love to watch you with your subs, even if I don't take part in that way? God, yes, like that, just like that. You gonna fill me? Please fill me. Find your pleasure too.
You're just liking I can see your thoughts since your mouth's producing babble. Yes, angel girl, I'm coming in your cunt. Fuck, yeah. Here you go over, I'm gonna lick you clean so my cum doesn't drip on those boots. Come for me again, my tongue pushing into your cunt?
Yeah, yeah. Love you. Gods, yeah, how you make me keep coming!
Love you, babe. Ready to sleep?
Ready to sleep.