Might you be tempted?
Check out the other tempting offerings by clicking below.
Because for me, sexy means that I can lay next to you and talk for hours. Perfectly comfortable being naked and next to you. We can talk about anything. And we are both so natural in our conversation and confidence. Comfortable in the knowledge that when we do get back to fucking, it will be even more amazing because of the intellectual discussion that we have just shared.
Check out how everyone else is spending their sexy Sunday by clicking the lips below.
I considered calling this post ‘Exposed’. But that seemed to have much more of a negative connotation. And needless to say I was having a positively amazing time. I’m sure this photo had you worried about that. Felt I should clarify 🙂
See how Jack and others are remembering sinful times by clicking blow.
If you missed the begining of the day – Meeting Jack
We weren’t naked for long before we couldn’t keep our hands off one another. As nervous as I had been waiting for him at the airport, I wasn’t embarrassed to be naked with him staring at me. We admired each other between orgasms and our mutual astonishment at how well we fit together. As we lay in a post-coital stupor we began realizing how much we had in common. Nothing is sexier to me than having similar ideologies to talk about.
The only thing that kept throwing me as we cuddled for awhile and then took a lovely shower together, was his concern. He would ask if he could kiss me or if I was doing okay. Don’t get me wrong, it was beyond sweet. It practically made me gooey whenever he would ask me. I think it just threw me as Sir doesn’t usually get around to checking in unless I safe-word. If a whip isn’t involved, he usually doesn’t mind if I’m whimpering with tears streaming down my face. Jack must of thought I was deaf with the number of times I responded with, ‘What?’ whenever he would ask. At least Jill said that he does the same thing to her, so it wasn’t a horrific facial expression I was making or something.
So, sexually, I pride myself on two things. One is my boobs. I have no control over their size or shape, really, but I think they look pretty good most of the time and quite a few others agree. Two is my skills at giving oral sex. I had a not-so-pleasant first experience with oral and basically refused to do it until I met Sir. He was patient, but really wanted me to give it a try again under his tutelage. I’m sure he wouldn’t say that I was awful to begin with, but I think he would say that I’ve come along way since we met. And, given the few partners I have been able to practice on since, no one has complained.
Needless to say, I was eager to give my skills a thorough test on Jack. And I ate humble pie, my friends. I pretty big piece of it. The first day I was there I went down on him. I used all my best technique. Not quite the same things I generally do for Sir, but everyone is different. Even though I did coax the occasional moan from him, I just wasn’t getting him there. After about fifteen minutes my legs were numb and my mouth had stopped producing saliva in protest. I had to stop. And I nearly cried. I couldn’t believe that I wasn’t able to get him off. He told me that it usually takes him longer than other guys; that he should have told me that. But at that point I thought he was just placating me.
I told Sir about it that night when we talked. He could tell I was disappointed, but told me to take what Jack said at face value. He was proud of me for trying so hard. And he knew I would try again and do my best. It felt a little like I was talking to my old gymnastics coach, but surprisingly, it helped a lot.
After several rounds of lovely orgasms (after oral didn’t work he was able to use my pussy for its intended purpose) we decided to take a breather. We took a ‘real’ shower and begrudgingly put on clothes. I checked in with Sir as we curled up on the couch. The chance to chat about politics and family was nice as a break. Sharing child rearing tips and my position on teaching my boys sex ed (see above quote) was very calming. We were both trying hard not to get too turned on again before Jill got home so we could save our energy for after dinner. Mostly, it worked, though I was pretty gooey by bedtime.
I’ll admit it felt a bit weird as I listened to stories (all of them entertaining) of Jack’s relationships with other women. His wife (obviously), other couples, random hook-ups. I wasn’t necessarily comparing myself to them, but I was worried about how he would compare me to them. Only in the last few years have I really started to enjoy sex and embrace my inner slut. And my other non-monogamy experience didn’t go so well. So I didn’t want to become a negative story for him to tell future lovers (who does?). And, as much as I have put nude photos of myself on the blog and sent him photos and video by DM, I didn’t want him to be too let down by the reality that is me.
The fact that he kept calling me hot and sexy almost threw me off guard. Not that Sir doesn’t say it, but I guess I don’t really believe him when he says it either. I don’t know if it’s body image (probably), or they are just saying it to get me into bed. Though I guess for both of those people I was pretty much a sure thing, so I guess back to body image.
Jill had run to the grocery on her way home to get supplies for dinner. When she did get home we could both tell pretty quickly that she had had a rough day. I’ll admit I was a little out of my element. I wasn’t sure how to help while also sort of feeling like a third wheel. Even tired she still let us relax while she made a fabulous dinner. We ate while joking and sharing still more stories.
After dinner they each had a drink. I think it helped Jill feel more comfortable considering that Jack and I had already spent the entire day together. When we couldn’t take the tension anymore they pulled me down the hall to the bedroom. They undressed me and let me enjoy Jill’s soft skin. With her being so upset after a long day, I let them focus on each other for awhile. I was so intrigued by their connection that I took several pictures of them.
I just wanted to watch them for awhile, but that would hardly count as a threesome, would it? Instead I enjoyed massaging and kissing Jill’s body while Jack fucked her. It was nice to be ‘eased’ into my first threesome experience. Just watching them was amazing.
When we got around to go to bed my nervousness returned. I had written a post about my unease and how to bring up the topic of where I would be sleeping. We had talked in DM on twitter quickly about it and then nothing else was said. So after a quick play session with all three of us on Tuesday evening, we all brushed our teeth and wandered around to get ready for bed. Jack decided we were all sleeping in the bed, sure that we would all fit fine. And, realistically, we did.
The submissive part of me wanted to ask/be told to sleep on the floor. But him deciding that we were all going to fit on the bed was decision made. After we were all settled under the covers he rolled over and cuddled with me for awhile. It was so nice. It’s not Sir’s fault, but he can’t cuddle with me and sleep. He overheats in an instant and laying on his side too long will mess with his back. So admittedly I wasn’t prepared for when he held me and then started to snore lightly. It was so cute (in a very manly way). He said later that he sort of went back and forth cuddling with Jill and I. It wasn’t a ton of room, but there were plenty of blankets and I think everyone managed to sleep okay. Admittedly, my first night on the couch in L.A. I slept like a rock, but waking up alone dampened that pleasure.
This weekend was spent preparing for and hosting a two year old’s birthday party. And I do believe that it all went well. Lots of smiling faces and the kid got a pretty good haul. Maybe not the ideal weekend with no children and lots of moans and screams, but it could have been much worse.
Friday night, rather than working on the erotic story that I had in my head all day while I was the office, I turned into the crafty mom. Sir and I had talked about what a two year-old would really like for a party. Whacking something with a stick until candy falls out seemed the obvious choice. And, because I am my father’s daughter, I decided to make the pinata rather than buy it. It wasn’t too hard, actually. I was pretty happy with it. Not surprisingly, we still have a lot of cardboard boxes and painters tape laying around for just such an occasion.
Then Saturday was all about party prep. Luckily we had another set of hands as my mother-in-law came to help. A mass of divide and conquer to get all the groceries and cleaning done. It felt like a very productive day. Though I was bummed that I didn’t get a post up. I did get my Sinful Sunday post ready to go and the pinata was decorated. As I decided that my son wouldn’t really care what it looked like I went through my surplus craft supplies. I was happy with my first attempt.
And Sunday the party turned out wonderfully. We had great weather and the food was good. The poor birthday boy is working on his two-year molars and had a fever for most of the day. But some pain medication and a lot of people willing to cuddle with him helped. And, not surprisingly, when the opportunity arose to destroy my craft project, he felt just fine. His big brother, my brother, and our cousin had to help him, but annihilation was soon achieved.
And because I am a smart mom, I didn’t buy a lot of candy that Sir and I would eventually have to eat. Instead, I just used packs of fruit snacks that my children already fight over and Sir bought one bag of suckers. Family members were encouraged to fill their pockets before they went home. So we actually don’t have too many left. All in all, it was a good weekend. After everyone packed up and left the entire family (dog and all) crashed on the couch. A quick nap and some cartoons helped.
Not a terribly kinky weekend. Though one of my birthday presents arrived early and Sir had me wear it for a few hours yesterday during the party. Because he never makes me feel vanilla for too long 🙂
Sometimes you have to be willing to get uncomfortable to get the shot you want. Find that angle, no matter how uncomfortable. Sort through lighting and shadow issues to freeze that perfect moment. Sometimes you only have once chance. You prepare as best you can and hope you don’t miss the opportunity as the race ends, the plane arrives, or the couple kisses.
And sometimes you can lay around for two hours naked on a quilt you made yourself. Repeatedly asking Sir to go back and try, ‘one more time’, until you are sure you got the image you want. Either way being comfortable and calm while you take your time and capture exactly what you intend.
This is from two weekends ago when I was trying to get the shot of Sir’s feet that I used for my Sinful Sunday post. I don’t have the most advanced camera, so our shots take a lot of trial and error. I have quite a few blurry pictures on my computer of Sir’s feet that need deleted. In fact, we shot for so long that the batteries died. I had to plug the adapter in as we couldn’t find replacements.
I’m hoping to be in a similar position tonight or tomorrow get a photo for this week’s prompt: Shoot From Below. Not sure what we’ll end up with yet, but I’m sure inspiration will strike.
I’m a glutton for marks. I love those little red lines. Proof that I’ve taken what Sir has asked me to. However, for whatever reason my skin does not like to play along. No matter how hard he hits me (and trust me, he’s given it some effort) I don’t stay red for long. I will bruise if I hit a table corner or one of the boys throws a toys at me. But if I take thirty hits from the crop I won’t have any proof after an hour or so.
I’ve actually attempted to edit this photo to make the red marks on my ass stand out more. Obviously will little success.
See who else is being sinful this Sunday. Hopefully with more proof of it than me.
**Also, wanted to say Happy Father’s Day to all the kinky dads out there. Keeping your kids clean and your significant other’s less so. Have a great day.**