Uh wow just when I thought I had my life goals figured out.
service
©Alexandra Oblako
😻😻😻
Just here to say for the umpteeth time that happy porn is the unparalleled best porn.
My little deviant and Beth prepared a spectacular meal for our kinky dinner party last night. Only after serving us and attending to all our needs was piglet permitted to eat as well — and then only scraps, without the use of her hands.
(With @on-her-knees-to-please, @petitedeviant, @xoxo-beth, and @msmodesta; please do not remove credits.)
So hot.
…I will be in my bunk.
Uh yep.
It’s been entirely too long since I’ve felt totally overwhelmed.
I literally just told a guy that I’m “more of an Upper Floor girl than a Public Disgrace girl.”
So I guess that’s just how I flirt now.
The Adventures of Sir, Sweetheart and Mr. Purple, Part Ten
After I came, Sir told me that SG had asked to watch me serve him with my mouth. I agreed and Sir helped me onto my knees. I was still a little woozy from all the endorphins from the beating and my orgasm, but I was willing to serve. Sir took a seat on the couch and turned skype back on.
I sucked eagerly, wanting to show what a good girl I was. The idea that SG could see how obedient I was really turned me on, and so I applied myself to some serious cock worship.
Afterwards, SG sent along a screenshot from his end of me sucking Sir’s cock. My head was all the way down on it, his length buried in my throat. His face was out of frame, mine was covered by my hair, which Sir’s fingers were curled into. Despite how blushy it was, I tried to be cavalier by saying that I’d better not see that photo turning up on youporn.
“Don’t worry,” he said, “I just deleted it.”
“Such a gentleman,” I teased.
He chuckled, “I’m gonna make you pay for that.”
I think I’d enjoy a day where my knees can’t leave the floor.
If I am being totally honest, I used to be kind of selfish. I had trouble understanding how I could enjoy things like service and cock worship. It would feel tedious and I would be anxious about not doing well. I wasn’t able to just relax into it and derive any kind of pleasure from it. Instead, I just did it and eagerly waited my turn to get something out of it.
But, as I’ve become more comfortable with my sexuality and picked better partners, I’ve really started enjoy worshipping a cock like this.
In fact, it’s sort of what I’ve spent a good part of this afternoon thinking about.
Full Service, Part One
Submitting out of the bedroom didn’t begin on the strongest note: I was late to meet Craftsmate’s train. However, he was understanding and we greeted each other warmly.
Gently, he took hold of my face and asked me if I knew what to call him today.
“Yes, Sir,” I replied softly and he grinned, pushing my hair from my face before reaching for my hand.
I was careful to walk a step behind him as we continued down the street. It was a gesture that he had expressed to me in the past was something he enjoyed. When he informed me that he had noticed, I was surprised at how proud I felt.
He waited until we were in relative privacy to check the second stipulation of how I was going to greet him today: that I would be plugged. Once he was sure the street was empty, he stopped me firmly before reaching down and pushing firmly against the handle of the plug through my jeans. With a smile, he took a moment to grope my ass before motioning for me to continue walking.
Usually, I tend to take charge when we’re going around my town. It’s my stomping ground, after all. And so it was an interesting exercise to allow him to lead, to gently prod him along by saying “it’s that way, Sir” without merely taking charge and directing him myself.
While we were on the way to get something to eat, we were walking in the street next to a narrow stretch of curb about a foot wide. Without saying anything, he took hold of my shoulders and gently guided me over to walk up on the curb and out of the road. There was something so possessive and sweet about it.
At lunch, I poured out his soy sauce for him when I saw the sushi was about to arrive at our table, making sure to serve him before myself. We’re usually pretty “to each his/her own” about this sort of stuff, so I found I had to make a conscious effort to remember to be of service to him.
And, believe it or not, I kind of liked it.
Tonight was just practice. At the real event, she’ll be trading the comfort of the mattress for the hard, unforgiving wood of a dinner table.