This tends to be how I remember my more drawn-out forays into really intense sessions. Everything comes in flashes. Moving snapshots. Fade in. Fade out. Fade in. Fade out. Often it’s out of order. Often it’s incoherent. When I try to go over it and move things around, I can’t always quite pinpoint the order.
But what remains is the effect. And while the memory comes fractured, the feelings are fluid. And that’s really all that counts, isn’t it?
She filled the position of secretary thinking it would be a little job between jobs. It would just be something she did before the next good thing came along. She would put in as much as needed to get her weekly paycheck as she stole glances at the classifieds each morning over coffee in the lounge.
She won’t leave now. She can’t. Not by his force, which certainly permeates other aspects of her life in the most delightful ways, but out of her own desire to belong. It wasn’t in the job description. It was the best part of the job.
He teaches, she learns. He gives, she takes, she gives back, he takes joyously. He cares. He nurtures. He understands. And tonight, she’s going to meet her, which will constitute more teaching, more learning, more sharing. They’ll call it working overtime.
NELL 2.0
The way my head buzzes when I’ve been subjected to sensory deprivation is almost like a high to me.
You’ve made me proud, New York.
“And in the dark, we will take off our clothes and they’ll be lacing fingers through the notches in your spine and when all is breaking everything that you could keep inside.”
OMG! 3 to 1? Umpf…
“Tell me your secret
What you desire
I will still be there for you
And tell me you need it
Tell me something you’re not
I will still be there for you.”
Sure, she looks ravishing, but why would you ruin her with such poor Scotch?
(via wonderlandcode831)
Most of it is waiting on those kinds of days. Hearing them walk through the house, hearing their conversations, hearing the water run, the doors open and close, the dishes slide into the washer. Hearing their phones ring, hearing their keys clack against the table, hearing chairs being pulled out, pushed in. And waiting.
Something about the tacky, “rent by the hour” quality of this is incredibly arousing.
The First Time Ivy Tried Knifeplay, Part 3
(part 2 can be found here) (part 1 can be found here)
I was a never a huge fan of having my, or anyone else’s, panties in my mouth. Mostly because cotton gets all waterlogged and nasty, lace becomes scratchy, so on and so forth. And, on top of that, I really don’t like the taste of lace, cotton, etc mixed with the taste of a woman. The second one can be damn good on its own. But with some sort of textile? Blegh.
Now tasting myself and praising my choice of wearing thin, cotton panties, I was going over in my head the details of my situation – the being blindfolded whilst tied down to my girlfriend’s bed as she hovered over me with something only slightly less threatening than a sushi knife – when I heard the wooden handle settle onto her bedside table. At least she had put the knife down.
She started smacking over my thighs, causing me to jump and whimper and quiver with each hit. She stopped when they were stinging, practically screaming with what I’m sure was blatant redness. It was then that she straddled the left one and started to get herself off, eliciting a whimper from my lips each time her knee brushed my desperate sex.
I wanted her so badly. I wanted anything right now. She knew her effect on me when she pleasured herself on me, but she just took her sweet time in acknowledging it. Her hand moved down to my breast, squeezing and twisting my nipple painfully until I cried out around my panties.
And finally, after what had seemed too long, her fingers sank between my legs. “Does slutty want to cum?” she cooed. I bit down hard on the panties, trying not to scream in frustration as I nodded. She pressed on harder, not giving explicit permission until what felt like forever.
When I had finally regained composure, she removed the blindfold and smiled down at me as my focus returned. She pulled my panties from my mouth and held the sopping wet mess of fabric in front of my face. I had bitten down so hard at some points that I had literally munched holes into my panties. I laughed dryly as she leaned up to remove my cuffs and I tried my hardest not to just pass out from exhaustion right there.