“Maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll let you taste my cum in her mouth.”
New milestone: My phone has ceased autocorrecting “fucking” to “ducking” and now instead elects to write “cucking.”
blush
I miss when he makes me suck my thumb while he’s doing something filthy to me. Or making me do something filthy.
A good way to not address the fact that I am posting a really blushy and humiliating photo to be the bravest girl ever is to tell a funny story:
I showed Sir this picture yesterday and he was like, “mmm is that Pup’s hand?”
And I’m like, “no sillyhead it’s yours.”
So let’s establish that when I send my boyfriend a random picture of HIS OWN HAND and my butthole, he recognizes my butthole.
It’s really humiliating to admit this, but Sir and I (and also Pup and I) are playing a lot with me humiliating myself so here goes. The last few asks made me pretty wet. Here’s me admitting that they made me very wet and that I want very badly to touch myself over them. I’m not allowed to unless I admit how much of a slut I am. Now I’m going to go blush and hide forever.
I’ve seen a couple of people I’m friends with lately posting on FetLife looking for people to gangbang them (tis the season?) and I’ve been so tempted to ask around myself. Except I am entirely too shy to be like, “beloved penises in my life, please come and overwhelm me.”
But, I would really want Sir to be present for it so I felt safe and because he’d be in charge of me in a really hot way in that context. For now, unfortunately, it’ll just be relegated to fantasy.
A week or two ago I was talking to Pup about it and he was like, “well, okay, go find three other dicks. Right? You want like four people?”
I hid my face in my hands. “Maybe a little more?”
“Like seven?”
I rolled over and buried my face in my pillow. “Like ten, twenty.”
In late October, I called up Sir and asked him if I could have sex with Pup. We’d had a few difficult conversations about it, and I was a little nervous to be sleeping with somebody who wasn’t him without him around. Previously, in our non-monogamous arrangement, the sex I’d had with other partners was right in front of him. This was going to be different and strange and maybe awesome but definitely a big leap of faith on both of our parts into a new area of our poly.
We had a lot of talks that made me feel like I was running into a wall, then ones that felt like progress but quickly petered off into difficulty. I often felt guilty asking for this when Sir and I had our own issues to deal with regarding his move and how that would affect our relationship. He was dealing with his own associated problems with the move independent of our relationship, and so I felt impossibly greedy asking to take this step.
But, when the conversation of “hey, can I do this with Pup on this very specific date?” came up, Sir was surprisingly receptive. Maybe it was the fact that he had started to express an interest in getting more physical with some of his partners – we often are most lenient with each other when we’re both having our needs met – or maybe I had managed to successfully convince him that I was sure that this was what I wanted.
“Are you asking me for permission to fuck that boy, sweetheart?” He asked me on the phone. He was using that tone of voice he uses when he plays Daddy.
I blushed and even though he wasn’t in front of me, I looked at my feet. “Uh huh.”
“Are you going to use a condom?” He asked.
“Uh huh.”
“Well, you’d better be a good girl and show him that I taught you well,” he said. “You’d better be a good little fuck.”
For some reason this reminds me of herdirtylittleheart and thinkivykink.
I’m always open to a nice suggestion like this.
Months ago, I sent Sir this gif, saying that it made me really wet. “What do you think she had to do?” he asked, which only made me blush.
That night, I had plans to get together with Pup, and about an hour beforehand Sir texted me saying that I should wear something I didn’t mind losing. “Something cute,” he added. I found a bra that was starting to wear a bit at the straps, an old pair of tights that were ripped at the toe, a blouse that was a bit too big on me that I’d used for a costume. I couldn’t find anything beyond the tights to wear on bottom, so I just found a skirt that matched and sent a picture to Sir. “All right,” he replied, “I’ll tell him not to mess up the skirt. Put your hair in pigtails.”
“What’s going on?” I texted him, getting a little nervous. I still braided my hair, and made sure to wear a long coat over my outfit. Without it, I kind of looked like a schoolgirl or some porny parody of a teacher and I felt a little silly wearing it.
Sir didn’t respond, and a few minutes later, Pup had arrived. “Nice hair,” he mussed the top of my head. I shot him a glare. “I figured we would go get some coffee.”
I shifted nervously. “Are you sure you don’t just want to stay here?” I didn’t want to take off my coat in public.
“No, come on,” he led me down the stairs and over to a cafe near my place. When the waitress asked if we wanted the drinks for here, I quickly replied that they were to go. When someone I knew came over to say hi and comment on my hair, I nearly died on the spot.
We got our drinks and ended up walking around outdoors. Eventually, we found our way to a few empty streets and I started getting a little bratty. It’s my usual reaction to a situation where I feel vulnerable, and I was feeling pretty vulnerable at that moment.
“If you don’t stop, I’m going to stick you behind that car and fuck your face,” Pup said and grabbed my arm.
I huffed and tried to tug it away. “Aren’t you still chaste or whatever?”
“No,” he replied and pulled me along. “I don’t think so.”
When we got back to my place, I’d barely locked the door when Pup pushed me down onto the carpet. He pulled my coat open and pushed it off my shoulders, tossing it aside. I struggled underneath him, trying my hardest to hide a smirk, but stopped short when I saw him take a knife out of his pocket and flick it open.
“He told me not to mess up the skirt, but it’s not my fault if you keep moving,” Pup said and flipped my skirt up around my waist with his free hand. He grabbed a fistful of the material of my tights and sliced it away with the knife. Slipping the knife under the hole he’d made, he cut a slit down my leg. “I like this,” he murmured to himself and I saw his eyes light up.
I hadn’t done anything with genuine fear involved in quite a while, and maybe because this was new territory with him, my eyes welled up with tears. It was weirdly satisfying cry – honestly even erotic – but Pup still stopped and checked in. “I’m good, really,” I answered, “I’m enjoying myself.”
Pup reached up and pulled open my blouse, chuckling when he encountered my bra. He took the bow at the front between his two fingers and gave it a little tug. “Cute,” he teased and sliced it away before slipping the knife under one strap, then the other.
“Aww, is someone scared?” Pup taunted as he returned to shredding the tights from my body with his knife and free hand. Curls of stray, torn nylon were spread around me on the carpet. “Scared I’m going to slip and hurt you?” He set the dull end of the knife against my cheek and I sucked in an anxious breath. His hand slipped down between my legs and he laughed, “you don’t seem like you mind it too much.” He closed his knife and returned it to his pocket. “Get in your bedroom,” he tapped my side with his foot. “Now.”
I don’t remember all the particulars of what we did, beyond the fact that mostly it was a lot of beating and me sucking his cock. I ended up on my knees by the side of my bed by the end, exhausted. Pup got up to his feet and walked over to his discarded pants. He took out his wallet, thumbed through it, and took out a twenty. Moving back in front of me, he crouched down and pushed the bill into my mouth. I watched in shock as he pulled his clothes on.
“I can’t take this,” I said as I tried to give it back. “This isn’t…”
“It’s not my money,” he replied. “So tell your boyfriend I said thanks for the blowjob.”
I still held out the twenty. “He gave you money?”
Pup patted my head, “he said he’d reimburse whatever I decided to give you. I meant to break this at the coffee shop.” Out of wanting to get out of there fast, I’d paid for both of our drinks. “Probably more than you deserve.”
“I can’t…” I objected and watched him walk towards the door.
He grinned, “bye, whore. Thank Craftsmate for me, would you?”
He had intended to just step out for a minute and then come back and give me aftercare, but I was so subspaced and confused and frustrated that I kind of freaked out when he went to pretend to leave. While he took care of me, I texted Sir and thanked him for letting me realize this fantasy I’d had with Pup. It required a lot of trust and generosity on his part. I count it as one of his and my biggest poly successes.
“Please take the money back,” I said when Pup went to tuck me in and head out. When he shook his head, I huffed and added, “I’ll just use it when we go apple picking, then.”
“It’s your whore money,” he replied and kissed my forehead.
I was leaving Pup’s place one night when he grabbed hold of my coat and – intentionally, as to irritate me – buttoned it askew. Huffing, I undid the buttons.
“Do it again,” I said.
He shook his head, “do it yourself.” I pouted, twisting one of my legs and shooting him some puppy eyes. He sat down on the end of his bed and chuckled. “You’re cute, do it yourself.”
“My Daddy buttons my coat for me,” I said, brushing my knees against his.
His hand shot up: palm overwhelming my face, fingers burrowing into the hinges of my jaw. I stumbled back and he pushed me against the wall. “I’m not your Daddy, you little bitch,” he snarled in my ear before releasing me. “Now button up your coat.”
That Time Pup Was Celibate for a Little Bit, Part Eight
“I saw you flash your tights at him,” Sir teased when I was putting my coat on to leave.
I smirked. “Stockings. Not tights.”
Pup was on his way out, too, and we figured we’d all walk together since he’s just about a block away from me (yeah, seriously). I’d brought a change of shoes because I didn’t think I wanted to walk home in my heels, but just ended up essentially throwing my shoes at Sir, claiming I could walk in the heels just fine.
The party was a little bit outside of the area of the city where Pup and I live, so we had a tiny trek ahead of us on a few residential roads that were more or less empty. I was being a little brat as we made our way away from my friend’s place, and I tossed my purse at Sir as well. “Now carry this, too,” I said, sticking out my tongue.
I was still walking when I felt Pup’s hand come up the back of my neck and tangle in my hair. We’d all had a little bit to drink, but none of us were “impaired.” But, the surprise of him seizing me by the hair made me trip a bit, especially combined with the fact that he hadn’t stopped walking. I ended up stumbling along beside him as he said, “you’re being a little brat.”
I grinned and glanced over at Sir, trying to gauge if he was all right with what was going down. I was met with a grin and winked before Pup shook me forward.
“You’re being a brat.” Pup tilted my head to exaggerate my glance at Sir. “Say you’re sorry.”
I felt my cheeks flush. “I’m sorry.”
“Say thank you, he’s been so nice to you.”
My legs felt a little weak. I hadn’t been co-dommed by two men since the threesome with SG that Sir and I had back in January, and I was nervous and unsure but massively turned on. “Thank you.”
“That’s a good girl,” Sir replied. I giggled and tried to twist away from Pup, but Sir grabbed my wrist. I walked between the two of them like that until we started to see people.
Sir and I ended up going home alone that night, and probably for the best. It would’ve been a weird way to open things back up with Pup. But the next morning I woke up thinking that maybe things were back open.