Delightfully unique- whatever or whomever I'm writing in consent, romance, and lust.
Looking for an image for “fire,” I found a nice, new-to-me site for pictures. While the license on this particular photo says “no attribution required,” I'm so excited to look at Matthew Barra's other photos on the site, so there. :D Yes, as for “nature,” I found a night scene for “fire.” Although I guess I could have looked for an indoor firescape. But Matthew's picture caught my eye. The extreme focus on the fire and its setting, no living beings in the picture.
In the darkness away from the fire, Audrey watches the flames move through the air in their spiral dance. Her nails scratch at her nipples through the light silk tank top; mine tingle under the cover of nylon and latex. She tilts her head in such a way that I know that she knows that I am watching her.
The warmth of the night allows me to be comfortable in just my binder. I pressed my hands against my thighs at her flirty cotton skirt; the wind picks up the lace edging, showing me her beautiful calves. My mouth dries out watching the deep brown skin with its copper tint from her recent play in the sun, move back and forth. With her one hand at the bottom of her skirt, I lift one hand to press against my pecs; a light touch might not pass through the binder to my skin, but delightful pressure certainly can. Her perfect, naked feet reach toward the fire's blaze and it touch my lips. My balls. Yes, comfort with the words. I squeeze my balls.
Her hand continues up under her skirt without fully lifting away the material. She slowly licks her lips; the amusement in her eyes teases me. She continues to tap on and scratch at her nipples even after they tent the silk accentuating her enchanting torso.
My hips push forward and I bite down on the gasp that wants to escape my trembling lips. Squeezing changes to pulling on my balls as my heart pounds against my binder. My fingers move just a bit higher to my bound clitorophallus; what would it be like if I went on T? I don't really want to transition that far. I hum into the pleasure spiraling upward along with the fire.
“That's right,” she hums. She grins. No skirt lifting. Her knuckles push up the skirt near her upper thigh. Just then, she pulls her hand out of her skirt, spits on her palm, and her hand shoots back up her skirt, this time, not stopping at her upper thigh.
My legs go rigid, even as my knee quake as if about to give out. When her hand starts moving up and down fast and faster, I fall to my knees, landing on what would be all fours, but is instead three because I need to make myself come watching her tease.
A bush pricks my stomach. I ejaculate immediately, my pelvis twitching and my ass rearing up in the air. “Just like that,” I whimper.
The fire crackles; a piece of wood breaks in half, sounding like a rocket.
My body freezes; my finger stops in the entrance to my cunt.
“That sound was at a distance from you and it's done,” Audrey soothes. Her lifted skirt reveals her hard cock, the glans shining in the half-light. She pulls her foreskin up and pushes it back down.
My body relaxes and I sink my middle finger into my cunt to its base. So wet, my hand ends up so wet. “Please, please.”
Her hand moves up and down. Her fingers pinch her cumhole.
My wet hand drops to the ground and I begin to crawl. The underbrush hurts my shins and hands so exquisitely. The scent of the burning wood reaches me first, but underneath it is Audrey's seductive odor. Her musk fills my senses.
“You look so good like that.”
I know she's seeing me as she's seen me in otherwise lit situations; I'm still in the dark behind the fire. My crawling body swings wide to the left as I make my way to her as fast as I can. My tongue rubs against the roof of my mouth, just behind my teeth.
“I love your mouth.”
I reach the space just in front of her. “Please.” My gaze moves up to her face and then down to her cock. Her hand is so soft on my cheek as I wrap my mouth around her, my tongue slipping out of my mouth to stroke her frenulum. My thighs quiver as I suck hard.
“Gonna fill your mouth.”
I suck harder.
Her warm cum shoots into my mouth as her hand tangles in the long part of my hair. “Love you, sweet.”
I smile around her cock and swallow.
I think sometimes, when I'm writing ahead like this, to pretend I'm not writing ahead. But when my friend gave me the word “wine,” I was irritated by the mono-sexism of two wine flutes together in so many celebratory images. That led me to think on wine in other ways; that's when I found wine making on YouTube. I can't say why I chose the one I did. When I considered how to be inspired by the how-to ideas, I thought of a sexy trip to an apple cider farm I wrote in my Vala's Story-verse.
“So we're going to try this?” Magda asked.
“We have the stuff.” Allysa shrugged. “Or we can play with the fruit.”
Magda snorted. “Fuck instead of make the wine?” She leaned forward to kiss Allysa.
Giggling, Allysa brought a bottle from behind her back. “I got some from the store.” She grabbed the wine bottle opener and pulled Magda to their bedroom.
“Ha! I got the berries.” Magda tore off her binder and her pecs swelled; her jaw clenched for a moment.
“There ya go. More,” Lasha urged from the corner. She took the bottle opener from Allysa and popped the cork as her girlfriends rolled into the bed. She then plucked a large, ripe blackberry from the container and dropped it into Magda's navel.
“Lasha wants a show,” Allysa murmured against Magda's cheek. With the tip of her tongue, she traced a wet path from the small of Magda's neck to the top of her slit before going back up to capture the berry. Dark juice dripped across Magda's porcelain white skin.
Lasha approached the bed and collected some of the escaping juice with her finger. Tilting the wine bottle over Magda's upper belly, she let the brilliant red fluid pour as Allysa tried to catch it in her mouth. She moved the bottle over Magda's chest and Allysa caught wine and nipple in her mouth.
“Oh,” Magda groaned with her lovers' attention. She writhed against Allysa's knee pressed against her pussy. “Yes, yes!” She swallowed hard before Lasha dropped a blueberry between her lips.
Berries on the head board, Lasha moved behind Allysa. “Move that ass, girl.”
Allysa stretched her hands behind her back. One middle finger popped up before she pulled her asscheeks apart with her other hand.
“Tease.” Lasha licked her finger before stroking Allysa's crack. She ragged her mouth, then her teeth over Allysa's neck and shoulders. Noticing the wine, she grabbed the bottle and poured starting the base of her spine. She frantically worked to drink the spirit from the gorgeous deep brown skin before her. Her tongue snaked between the globes of flesh to catch some wine she'd missed.
“No fair.” Allysa lowered her belly onto Magda's as she continued to feast on raspberry red nipples that had hardened to exquisite points of nerve. She placed one knee against Magda's outer thigh; Lasha slipped her finger between her lovers' bodies. “Just like that.”
“I thought it was no fair,” Lasha taunted.
The berry container toppled onto the bed. Fruit wandered between bodies and mashed into juice along with spilled wine.
Her teeth pinching the tender skin of Magda's neck, Allysa grabbed a raspberry that had fallen near the ear.
“Yes, oh, yes!” Magda shuddered against the bed as Allysa rode her thigh hard.
“Yes, come for me!” Allysa threw her head back and found her own trembling release when Lasha's finger moved into her pussy.
“That's my girls.” Lasha breathed in deep and smiled, at peace with her girlfriends' orgasms.
First an update: while I've had both good and bad days so far this Nanowrimo, I haven't managed to sign up for #MasturbationMonday. So at the end of this sentence, I'm going to give the "suggested word themes" for the last two MM's I managed to flub on- ASL and Nature.
When I got to my friend's next word suggestion- post- I debated the many ways I could take inspiration from it. I put it into image search and started scrolling. Physical posts (often made of wood), some post hole digging machinery, tons of online posts. Then I found the relationship status post that I just had to write to. :D
I won't list all the stupid things I've been asked, told as an asexual person; you can put that in Google, go look it up on asexuality.org.
However, and I'm not joking, I want to say that I've decided I'm in a relationship with mashed potatoes. I wouldn't say that to most allosexuals because it would just make me the butt of their joke.
When Audrey and my sibling submissives leave me to my own devices (and no chore list), I like to enjoy my romance with mashed potatoes. It's been very many years since I cheated on mashed-potatoes-from-scratch with powdered-mashed-potatoes; I may be polyamorous, but my mashed potatoes aren't. The purple potatoes slip under my hands as I scrub them under the warm running water. I would never think to peel my potatoes of their beautiful skin.
“Lovely one, we'll think of this as knife play, not being chopped into medium-sized cubes.” I feel the bodily memory of the time my Lady gave into my pleading for knife play- this was before Onyx joined us with his extensive knowledge and enjoyment of knife play. The multiple orgasms, most with ejaculating before that final one at the end, was the closest I've ever come from a more sensual, almost sexual interaction with another human being.
It's pretty decent being ambivalent about sexual activity with a person. But, oh the cubes of water, they plop into the water when I toss them into the gorgeous medium-green Dutch oven, sinking momentarily and then surfacing among the bubbles. A sense of loss pervades as I toss the final potato cube into the water.
Top on the pot, I grab the orange 5-pound kettle weight that I keep in the kitchen and I spend time doing repetitions to work on each muscle group in my arms. The sheen of sweat tickles the skin between my shoulder blades. “Lovely one, are you becoming soft for me while I get hard?” I replace the kettle bell in its spot and wash my hands.
The top shakes deliciously with the steam building in my favorite pot.
I remember my Lady wrapping her arms around my waist from behind as I watched the pot. “I love when you smell of sweat and when we can be close just like this, both getting our needs met without pushing the other to deal with anything boundary pushing,” she said. “I love you, my Lady.”
Hot pads on my hands, I pour out some of the water and return the shining Dutch oven to the heat. I think of this is a minor climax as I add spices, cow's milk, cheese, and butter to the pan. My Lady says I wiggle my ass as I add these things and then dance around with the potato masher; it's like a good paddle on my bum, helping me work through my conflicted thoughts about sexuality, sensuality, companionship, romanticism, my body, other's bodies.
No one's home. I scoop a dish of the completed mashed potatoes, chunky enough that they're obviously not instant, into a bowl. Sinking to the kitchen floor, I begin to enjoy. Just a dish. There's no need to gorge on my Lovely one.
Soon my belly is warm and my cock is as hard as stone. I wash the dishes as my heartbeat speeds pleasantly. As I place the last dish on the drying pad, I see an old chore list Pekka wrote for me. I gasp and clutch the counter; I'll have to do laundry now since I came in my shorts. I'm really not a teen boy, just an asexual man with complicated and non-common place sexual interests.
Now, the above story could seem like a typical “allosexual being aphobic.” (In other words, a person who feels sexual attraction being phobic against someone who doesn't feel sexual attraction.) I try very hard to do better by Didier; he's a part of the “Vala's Story”-verse of mine, not just an asexual I randomly created. I've been working less with these characters of late- besides Audrey, that is, as she started off existence as a character of mine, but is also now my girlfriend. I had a moment on Twitter to explain to Posy Churchgate about my wonderful extended BDSM family; you can see the hierarchy of domination and submission on the Vala's Story page- Didier isn't on it because the diagrams focus on The Queen's stable and Didier belongs to Lady Audrey, The Queen's friend and my girlfriend. Or maybe more :D oh the threads of story arcs and plot twists that reside in my head and various files.
And the first image from my friend suggesting a word: Nature
Nature. I started off intending to do an “autumn leaves changing colors” scene, but I went back to look for something at night. You see, I'm very sensitive to the sun and I just don't find much about nature scenes during the daytime at all pleasurable. I pondered setting this image to my wallpaper- after all, that's what it's meant for- but I have the ASL manual alphabet there for now.
Spring warmth made the nighttime walk enjoyably warm. Laney ran hir hands over a branch, feeling for the new buds ze couldn't see. “Thanks for coming out with me tonight.”
Together, Tara and Sarai murmured, “Of course.”
Sarai added, “We wanted to enjoy our sweetest partner.”
“And you're not sweet?” Laney snickered.
“Would a sweet person have their hand down your pants as we walked?”
“I think so.” Laney wriggled hir ass until Sarai's finger slipped farther between hir asscheeks. “Unh. Now that feels even better.”
“Good thing most people aren't up to nighttime walks until summer.”
“So we can fuck while walking,” Tara purred. They stroked Laney's midpoint clitorophallus into its lovely erectness. “And very good of you to go commando today.”
Laney moaned. “Sure. I love both your hands where they are.”
The group paused beside the solid fence and the building whose purpose they'd pondered many times in the past. Hands pulled from Laney's pants, Tara and Sarai pounded on hir. In a tangle of limbs, they pulled Laney's pants to hir knees. Tara slipped hir cunt onto Laney's midpoint clitorophallus as Sarai's five inches of unbound clitorophallus slid into Laney's wet asshole.
“Glad I had some lube handy,” Sarai groaned.
Sarai and Tara grabbed each others' asses as they moved against Laney in rhythm.
Laney whimpered in ecstasy.
“There, there, you'll get to come too,” Sarai teased. Kissing on Laney's neck, they growled. “But you'll have to be fast.”
“Might we come close together?” Tara said.
“We might.” Laney glanced into the night sky and noticed the twinkle of stars without the leaves of the trees obscuring the heavens. Hir body twitched with the paired pleasures of anal and clitorophallic stimulation. Pec to pec, nylon rubbing against nylon, their chests pressed close.
Sarai's toes curled against Laney's calves. They bit down on the tend nape of Laney's neck.
“Yes, yes,” Laney moaned into Tara's kissing mouth.
Tara threw a leg over Laney and Sarai. “Come with us.” Hir body clamped down on Laney's midpoint clitorophallus in climax.
Laney's eyelids fluttered even as they looked at the naked tree limbs. The arousal streamed out of hir body. “Thanks, loves.”
They kissed Laney where they could reach. “Outside sex is lovely at night.”