Chasing Me Chasing You

An uncollared submissive struggling through depression, motherhood, and the constant craving of her next orgasm.

When Things Cum Together

I want to clarify, before I start this post, that this was not a scene. This was (or started as) a casual connection.

I had asked Sir if he would take a video of me sucking his cock. I really wanted to send my flirting/masturbation buddy on twitter something fun. As I get more and more excited about my trip (tomorrow!) to see him, I love the idea of him jerking off while watching a video of me. Sir seemed to appreciate my enthusiasm. After the kids were in bed I was quickly ordered between his legs.

The video turned out pretty well, if I do say so myself. And I am pretty sure he recipent enjoyed it too. He responded to Sir with, “Yes! I am totally getting off to this tonight!”.

I think that only fueled our fire. Sir told me to grab the Doxy and climb on top of him. This has been his new favorite way to make me cum. I think he enjoys being inside me when use the Doxy to orgasm. It all feels amazing to me, so no complaining here.

I’m not even sure what happened. I’m certainly not going to complain about any orgasm, but this was better and completely different than any I have had before. One minute I was trying to hold onto my release and the next I had a strong hand around my neck and I was squirting everywhere. I couldn’t focus on how embarrassed I was or worried about Sir’s reaction. All I could was feel. He came as well, though I didn’t even know it until afterward. The moment was just so sublime.

We had to change the sheets. I think we both still slept on towels. It was crazy.

I just wish we can do it again. As I have no idea what he did that pushed me over the edge, I think lots of testing may be required. 🙂

Brownie Points

Rye had a bit of a rough morning. I had given her a straight-forward task to perform while I was in the shower. Stand on tip-toe while holding my towel at arms’ length, raising it slightly higher toward the ceiling every time she lost her balance. She was doing well, with her arms almost reaching the ceiling as I finished in the shower. As I was finishing myself up – and honestly taking my time – she safe-worded out of the exercise; I later learned that her ankle was giving out and she was at risk of falling over. I climbed out of the shower and asked if the task was more painful than it seemed at first. My question was met with a wall of defenses; redirection, incredulity, anger, and more besides. I was taken off guard and it took me a moment to gather myself.

A lot went through my head at that moment. We switched places and she climbed into the shower while I started to dry off. She was holding herself in her arms and sobbing huge, silent tears into the corner of the shower, busily tearing herself to ribbons for what she thought was a failure. I climbed back into the shower, held her, and explained a few things. I explained that the purpose of the assignment was in the doing it at all and in the not giving up until health and well-being became an issue. I soothed her out of her head and back into the moment, where I was proud that she had engaged in so superfluous and unproductive a task at all. She consented to stop beating herself up for the moment.

So, I went upstairs and laid out her clothes, from the inside out, so to speak. Starting with the Njoy Pure plug, a tube of lube, and the Doxy, and then onto a shirt and skirt, I prepared her appearance for the day. I don’t normally do this because I don’t normally get to do this, but it felt important in that moment that she feel an extra layer of my influence and approval.

I left her to get dressed while I did some cleaning down stairs – until I heard the telltale buzz of the Doxy. I went up; she was beautiful. I tugged on and assaulted her nipples while she came. I forced her throat down around my cock while she came. I beat her ass with a belt while she came. All separate and massive orgasms, by the way.

And then I offered her some Brownie Points.  “Do you want some brownie points today?”

“Yes please,” she chirped, enthusiastically. 

I pulled her short leash out of the playbox. If I am remembering correctly, this came from one of Rye’s old clutch purses. I attached the tether to the Njoy’s handle, and instructed her to leave the lead for the day. 

Rye with her plug and her leash on.

She did. The whole time we were out at a fancy restaurant to celebrate her birthday. It led to an interesting and hilariously compromising situation, but I’ll leave Rye to share it, as she knows more of the details, and it would be a story whose heart is more in the truth than the embellishment.

Unfortunately, however, she did not get to spend the day in the skirt I had picked out, but that’s mostly because I insisted on cumming on her face before lunch and the skirt got gobbed on. “If it was only one spot, I’d probably leave it, but this is a bit obvious.”

You could fairly ask what the point of any of this is. In all honestly, I’m not sure myself – real life often defies logical presentation. If it were fiction, I would suggest that the story of the plug come before the story of the tears, so that the energy for the former could feed the emotion of the later. I would give the whole thing a small bundle of possible interpretations, all somehow distinct and connected at the same time. I would give it an optimistic but ambiguous conclusion.

Life defies narrative direction, but soars in the telling.

A close up of Rye's ass with her plug and her leash.

 

Getting myself into trouble

Sir doesn’t really care when it comes to pubic hair. There have been rules in the past with regard to regular shaving, but it’s never really been enforced. As long as I don’t let it get too crazy or dirty, he could care less. I guess really, as long as his access isn’t obstructed. So I tend to drift from one extreme to the other. The last few weeks when the boys were home my showers during the day were a rushed five minutes while the toddler was asleep or after Sir got home from work. Wasting time with a careful shave wasn’t in the cards. And, with the ever-present chance that one of my kids could walk in (to check on me, as toddlers tend to do), having one of my legs in the air trying to get a a better angle on my nether bits just seemed like therapy I didn’t want to pay for. Which led to this:

Rye's cunt with pubic hair.

Not that I have a problem with pubic hair. Mine is just generally uneven. The top of my mound goes a little wild and everything else is just a patchy mess. Sir has also done some research into it, but I also apparently have a lot more hair on the inside of my labia than most women. We have talked about getting it lazered off at some point, but we’ll see about funds. In my case, I just don’t find it very attractive. Straggly and rough just aren’t adjectives I like when describing anything on my body.

I also have an issue with pubic hair and vibrators. I don’t know if it’s just me, but it tends to become almost painful. I don’t know if it’s just the Doxy specifically or how I use it, but I find it pulls and pinches. It just tends to make relaxing a little tougher, but who doesn’t love a challenge?

However for my  first day at my new job yesterday I want to feel as sexy and confident as possible, so the razor made a lengthy appearance.

Rye's clean shaven cunt.

And, after I received approval for my handy work I also received permission for a hairless Doxy ride. I must have done a pretty good job, as this morning my pubic bone was sore. I think I’m pushing down a tad too hard (I say that like I care, but it feels amazing, and I’ll keep doing it). However, as per my ‘share any physical ailments/pains with Sir’ rule, I let him know that I was sore. Usually I get a sly grin and twinkle in his eye that says that he’ll be taking advantage of that information later by pushing on it with his body, hand, implement, etc. But today, he just looked at me completely straight faced and said, “Well, then I guess you need a break from the Doxy. No Doxy for thirty days. You should put a countdown on your blog. This is not a request.”

Sometimes I really hate telling him things. I did all that work to shave and look pretty and now my poor clit will be Doxy-less for thirty days. I have a feeling that my begging for oral skills will certainly improve though.

Maybe I will grow out my pubic hair in protest. There is no way that will come back to bite me in the ass.

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