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She just absolutely needs the blindfold, she says. Nothing else makes her quite so brave.

Impulse, Part Nine

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Later on, after he’d played with Azure, Pup took me back upstairs into a different room. He put me on my hands and knees and slid inside me. “Look at that,” he murmured in my ear, “you’re still wet from him, baby.” 

I’m not going to lie to you. Our poly isn’t always perfect, my life usually isn’t that sexy. For every Friday night spent in lingerie or some scanty costume at a play party are another three or four spent in sweatpants catching up on Netflix and doing laundry. But I had a great time, I did something brave and, after a really tough shit-constantly-happening-everything-going-wrong kind of year, I got back out there.

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Impulse, Part Seven

The couch cleared off for us, and “Rex”/Rhett and I settled down on it. Someone set a timer on their phone for three minutes. I laid back and Rex angled himself over me, looping an arm around me and kissing me again. 

I genuinely want to say we made it to three minutes. Even two and a half. But at some point I had my legs around his waist and Rex’s hands were moving over my body, starting to remove the rest of my clothing. His lips were soft, the stubble on his face rough, his hands strong and imploring. There was something about it that just worked, some weird combination of that fact that I hadn’t been to a party in a while, had come into this evening with no expectations, and had suddenly gotten into this encounter with someone I had pretty strong chemistry with.

“Honestly, it was like a porn,” Pup said later. “Not like, in terms of hotness. It was hot. But in terms of people just kind of dropping everything and wanting to fuck.”

There was a rule at the party to use the rooms upstairs for sex or scenes in order to respect people’s bondaries, and so we decided to try to be discreet and sneak upstairs. Of course, just about everyone in the group noticed. “Wow,” the host said. “Didn’t even get to three minutes, huh?” 

As I headed up the stairs, I looked to Pup to make sure this whole thing was all right, and was rewarded with just about the goofiest grin and thumbs-up ever. (Poly victory?)

When we got upstairs, we discovered someone had moved the condoms out of the room. I took a deep breath, headed back down the stairs, and called out to the host, “hey…can we get a condom?”

The group still in the circle cheered.

Impulse, Part Six

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“We should, ah, we should maybe do something later,” I said to the guy on the couch who had kissed me while I was blindfolded. He looked a bit older than me, blond, a bit mischievous-looking (though considering the context, this made sense.) He was rather tall, though I had deduced as much when blindfolded from how I had to tilt my head to kiss him. When I propositioned him like that, in possibly the vaguest way possible, he – and a few other people around the circle – laughed. “Uh,” I added, “what’s your name?”

I was blushing. Pup was cracking up next to me.

The guy on the couch said his name, but I totally misunderstood it. (For the purposes of anonymity on the Internet, let’s say his name was Rhett and I misheard it as Rex. It was that level of like close-sounding names.) And rather than asking him to repeat himself I was like, internally, ok I think I heard Rex let’s just go with that but maybe don’t call this person by his name right away in case you’re really wrong.

People continued drawing cards around the circle. I watched Pup give a guy a pretty righteous spanking from a dare on the guy’s card, as well as saw him go to town licking this girl’s toes. I mean, the entire group was sort of speechless and transfixed watching it. Otherwise, there were kisses, slaps, massages. When it was “Rex”’s turn, he drew a card that had him share the craziest place he’d ever had sex. And though the location was pretty wild, it didn’t give much indication as to whether he fell more into the category of “swinger” or “kinkster.” After all, the whole kissing thing could have been because he wasn’t actually into hurting people or humiliating them.

When my own turn came up, I thought I might have the chance to see. Instead, I drew a requisite “check-in” card, which I am ***NOT COMPLAINING*** about because checking in is super important during an activity like this. But I got my opportunity when “Rex” drew a card and smirked.

“So, it says to have three minutes ‘in heaven’ with another person in front of the group. Any takers?” he asked. He was looking right at me.

I pretended to be all easy-going and raised my hand, saying, “oh, I’d be down.” But internally I was like:

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Impulse, Part Five

I’d told everyone my limits and clarified what didn’t feel good for me, though I could not clearly express what I wanted. There wasn’t much I could put to words, considering what was about to happen.

I tied the blindfold over my eyes and waited.

For a moment, nothing happened. Naturally, my thoughts drifted to the worst ideas: no one else was into this or into me, I’d upped the ante way too soon, I was making people uncomfortable. It’s the kind of insecurity that has plagued my relationship to kink forever: the fear of being the only one who actually enjoys it. Which, yeah, at a play party is absolutely absurd.

The moment, though perhaps an eternity in my head, was maybe the length of one deep breath. And then everything: hands, mouths. Someone untying the belt on my skirt. Someone biting my neck. A hand in my hair, a hand on my ass. A hand settled at my side, pulled me a bit forward, and someone’s lips met mine. I reached up and placed a hand on the body in front of me. As I felt the scrape of an unfamiliar patch of stubble, I realized I wasn’t kissing someone I had kissed before.

The whole thing – the hands, the fingers, the mouths – was impossibly hot, but something was incredible about the fact that a stranger had come over in the midst of the probing and grabbing and biting to grab me and kiss me. Maybe it was the fact that the action was the most vanilla of anything that was happening, the most commonplace. The only thing that could have been done outside of the context of me being blindfolded at a play party. My friend suggested that it was the fact that the person had grabbed me and initiated something so intimate in the midst of a group like that. “It was like he was claiming you,” she said. I don’t know how sold I am on that idea.

And just as quickly as it all began, it was over. Someone reached out and tickled my stomach, making me double over. I recognised the host’s voice: “I think that’s enough for you.”

I removed the blindfold and sat back down, barely able to look up at the group now that I had no idea who had been touching me and where. Even though I knew it wasn’t him, I turned to Pup and asked, “was that you kissing me?”

“Nah,” he said. “I was biting you mostly.”

Mustering up all the bravery I could manage to make eye contact with everyone, I looked around the circle and asked, “all right, who was it?”

A guy on the couch raised his hand.

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Valentine, Part Five

My pussy was impossibly swollen and sore after being fucked with the glass dildo that had been in the freezer. Somehow, it was both numb and tender. Pup and Saltine let me rest a bit while I was coming down from the orgasms and the adrenaline and the associated emotions that come from being railed by a freezing cold hunk of glass.

I was curled up on the bed, Pup smoothing my hair and Saltine rubbing my back. “That was a lot,” I mumbled into the pillow.

“Aw,” Saltine kissed my shoulder blade. “Good a lot? Bad a lot?”

“A lot,” I replied. “I came a lot.”

After I’d finally called a safe word because I had cum so much it had started to hurt, Pup had let me cry on his lap and calm down. It wasn’t a bad cry or a bad pain, it was just intense. It was an intensity I’d really enjoyed – I still to this day touch myself remembering it – but it was still a whole lot. But I liked intense scenes like this, how brave and strong and sexy I felt when I handled them, how good it felt to be praised for managing it.

“Yeah,” Saltine said. “It was funny, you’d get off and whine about how hard I was fucking you and then just get off again a minute later.”

I rolled my eyes and nudged them, “yeah, yeah, I guess you know best.”

Saltine rolled me over and pulled my head up onto their chest. They kissed my forehead. I wanted to fall asleep there, even though it was morning. Somehow, I think Saltine told him to or just of his own volition, Pup got down between their legs, pushed the sheets aside, and started to eat them out.

Photo credit: elles par moi

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Whipping Post, Part One

In mid-December, we all went to a play party. It was the first time I’d gone to a play party without Sir.

The evening started out pretty tame. Saltine, Pup, one of Saltine’s friends and I arrived at the party after hanging around at Pup’s place for a little bit, and a friend of mine who had previously said she was too shy to go showed up anyway. 

I congratulated her for being super brave. In addition to just being an awesome thing for her to face her fears and show up at the party, it made me feel good about being there myself. I was a little anxious about being there without Sir, as well as being nervous about being there with Saltine. I am an absolute anxious perfectionist, so the idea of us not really wanting to play together and also not really knowing how to divvy up the time left me a little on edge. It’s the kind of thing were I just want everything to be perfect and everybody to be happy and Jesus nobody wants to make firm plans.

Pup came over and told me that he wanted to play with me. I was feeling a little bratty, so I spent a some time avoiding it by running off to grab a drink or talk to someone. But, somewhere in the middle of talking my friend, Pup came over, grabbed me by the hair, and dragged me off to the back of the party. 

The back area was partitioned off into two rows of little semi-private play areas, separated by curtains through which one could easily see silhouettes of the people behind them. The area he took me to was right near the front of the row, such that the party could see us through the curtains. Inside was a small raised platform, and atop the platform was a long, wooden post. The entire apparatus faced a mirrored wall.

Pup moved me up onto the platform and guided my hands to hold onto the post. He slid my legs apart by easing his feet between mine. For a moment, he stood pressing his weight against me, pinning me against the post. It’s a move he’d pulled before, when we were out on our second date and we were playing pool. That time, it was under the auspices of helping me to play, but I understood the intention behind it both that time and this one. It’s a power play, a move to demonstrate the differences in both height and strength, a way to say that he can overpower me. It’s also more or less a way to grind his cock against me.

Gathering up a length of rope, he arranged my hands further up the post and tied them there by threading the rope through a loop at the top of the post. 

“Am I in trouble?” I asked as he set to pushing my feet further apart. There were two more metal loops on the platform, and he was already tying two lengths of rope around my ankles.

He chuckled and shook his head. “What do you think, princess?” He’d been in the habit of calling me that then, always condescendingly, always in such a way that I protested being called it. He tied off the ropes and my legs were stuck spread almost uncomfortably wide. 

I shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe.”

Pup rose up to his feet and sunk his fingers into my hair. He tugged back so hard, so suddenly that the memory of watching it happen in the mirror in front of me – of seeing it all too quickly before all the saw was the ceiling – is still as vivid as ever.

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mostlycatsmostly:

(via Cat Bitė / Unitedcats)

FYI I am demobottoming in less than ten hours and I am basically this anxious little kitty.

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Yesterday, I had difficult, vulnerable talks with both of the dudes in my life about all the crazy stuff like expectations and whatnot. Those of you who know me know that I am terrified of communication and vulnerability, so I wasn’t exactly chomping at the bit to do this. But, both of these talks turned out really, really positively, and I was clear about what I wanted and needed, and I felt much closer to both of them as a result. So, go me for doing the scary thing. Twice.