Oct 122014
 

I usually write erotica for Wicked Wednesday. When the words “Bad Sex” popped up on the screen, I shook my fist at the Gods of Honesty and gave into the fact that I was about to bust out the truth on a drunk Englishman. I’ve been dying to tell this story to someone, anyway. It might as well be the pervy people who read my blog.

1. I don’t judge. I don’t count your drinks. You do you.

Here’s the quick and dirty:

The bathroom was dark. The first room I walked into was barely even lit. I couldn’t tell that he was hammered. He used scarf-like ties to secure my wrists to either side of the towel stand in the bathroom. That was a disappointment. He was known to be a heavy player. I’m a heavy player. So the fucking scarf ties were all sensual and 50 Shades. Not my thing. I didn’t think it was his thing.

I wore heels. I’m 5’5, so almost 5’9. So here I am, strapped to this towel thing, above the toilet, and he comes at me with an Hitachi. Ohhh, I’m thinking I might get something out of this after all. The Drunk Englishman proceeds to tease me with it – between my left pussy lip and my inner thigh. Hmm. This is a new technique. Maybe this is just something he likes to do. It’s not really working on me, but, Ok.

Then he gets a little grind to it. And I realize… This drunk Englishman thinks he’s in my pussy.  I don’t care how drunk you are, there is no clit on my leg. You can’t wish it. You can’t smoke anything that makes you think that it’s there.

Back to it.

So I’m trying not to laugh. And at that point, I still don’t know that’s he’s piss drunk. He’s holding his own quite well. I’m just wondering if this guy is really as bad at getting the sexy and kinky on. And he’s still grinding. What do I do? He’s NOT stopping. He’s determined to drill an orgasm out of leg. I’m trying to pull back and then squirm my pussy around ONTO the toy. NOPE, He wasn’t having it.

The ties are a joke. I’m holding on to the towel stand, hoping the ties don’t fall off. As a rule, I don’t fake orgasms, but I was debating using it as an exit strategy, considering the chafing.

2. Here’s my lesson (and thank GOD I learned it through humor and not horror.) – It’s your decision who you play with. The condition of people you play with is extremely important.

Wicked Wednesday

Mar 142012
 

I enjoy taking pain from someone who enjoys giving it. He wants to give it. I want to take it. There’s a connection and a pleasure to be had with the exchange of power through pain. Once I’ve shared the excitement of that connection, “the want” sets in.  The pleasure gained can begin to overtake me. I want Him to hurt me. He wants to hurt me, too.

We cut the bullshit and lust takes over.  I know that He’ll want my nipples and breasts so I unleash them first, but my thighs are right behind them. I’ve  pushed my open  thighs towards Him in a nonvocal plea for stinging attention while the sound of His unbuckling belt was already setting off my cunt.

He decides where to start. He determines what part of me to take or taste. That’s His right. I get to slip away and enjoy the pain. I get to take what He gives with my chest caving or back arching. My body telling Him more than my words even could during such intense a situation.

He likes giving the pain. I enjoy taking it from Him.