But, could somebody fix me up with some latex panties and thigh highs, please?
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Hi, I haven’t been spitroasted in over a year. Something is *wrong.*
The night before Halloween, Pup and I awkwardly scheduled me going over to his place to fuck him. The afternoon leading up to it, I was stupidly nervous. I felt like I was losing my virginity all over again – having sex with a non-primary partner without my primary partner being present. I was worried that somehow both relationships would be weirdly affected and was swilling around a thousand stupid anxieties while I got dressed and did my hair.
“Wish you could hold my hand while he fucks me,” I texted Sir, which was only half true. Part of me really wanted to go this alone. Call it an opportunity to grow and whatnot.
I ended up texting Heart while I did my makeup, going through lingerie options with her and getting playfully badgered about how late I was running. We came up with the idea of just wearing my black lace onesie, a pair of black thigh highs and a pair of black heels with just my coat on top, which ended up proving to be only semi-adequate in keeping me warm as I walked to Pup’s place.
He ended up not getting my text that I was coming over, and when I arrived he was in the middle of trying on his Halloween costume. So, yeah, I show up with my hair looking cute and in a long coat and a sexy pair of heels and then Pup is standing there in a costume. Because I cannot begin to describe to you guys that for however much you all insist my sex life is hot, it’s usually 500% awkward.
When we got to his bedroom, he gently pushed me down onto his bed and unzipped my coat. “Look at you,” he murmured against my clavicle. At that point, I was just a person-shaped cluster of butterflies and raw nerves.
That said, there isn’t much to say about the sex. That’s the thing about sex. We build up a lot around it, puff it up like cotton candy, and when you actually get down to it the real substance is just as gossamer. It was fun and good, but it didn’t change much of anything. It wasn’t revelatory. It didn’t break down my relationship with Sir. It didn’t suddenly bump up my relationship with Pup.
Except, afterwards, we ended up doing a really intense scene. Maybe I’ll tell you about that. It’s one of the darker thoughts I linger on when I’m in a certain mood.
I’ve suddenly gotten kind of interested in the kind of humiliation and degradation that has always made me so anxious in the past.
Don’t get me wrong – it still makes me anxious. But that’s weirdly part of the appeal.
How I should be spending my day off.
One day, I’m going to get good at multitasking.
One day.
Nicki is queen. That’s all I have to say.
Pup and I were hanging around at my place when the subject of sex came up. It had a few times before, but there had been the issue of me not yet being on birth control and then the issue of Pup having his relationship problems.
Okay, I should clarify that hanging out means that he was sitting on my couch and I was sucking his cock.
Anyway, I pulled him from my mouth and gave him a teasing smile. “Do you want to fuck me with this?” I asked.
Pup pulled me up and into his lap. “Do you want me to?”
I smirked and ground against his lap. Besides the material of my dress that had fallen between my legs, there was nothing else separating him from just entering me. “I asked you first.”
“I do,” he said. His hands settled on my hips, “can I?”
“I’ll have to talk to Sir,” I said. “In the meantime, I can just tease you with it.”
I continued grinding myself against him, until Pup just smiled and picked me up by the hands on my hips, threatening to thrust up inside me. I slapped him playfully on the shoulder and wiggled out of his grasp. A few moments later, I resumed teasing him, and he once again pulled me up and feigned preparing to penetrate me.
“You should talk to your boyfriend, then,” Pup said.
I smiled. “Maybe I will.”
Lately, my head’s been going to some pretty dark places.
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.