The fact that Sir and I have both met this particular gentleman on separate occasions and were both totally charmed by him,

coupled by the fact that the two of them hit it off instantly,

taking into account that we’ll all be in the same city for the holidays,

acknowledging that Sir is heteroflexible and typically the men he thinks are cute are not really up my alley,

confirming that this one is in fact totally up my alley,

remembering that I have been wanting this forever,

and considering that he and his girlfriend are poly,

well, shit, put it all together and what do you get?

This morning, Sir and I were talking dirty and the subject of him having another girl came up. I’m especially proud of myself because I was the one to bring it up.

We’ve discussed the idea before and it was the first time I was genuinely comfortable with the thought. Basically, as I have expressed on here with various degrees of feeling insufficient or worrying about being replaced, Sir and I do have very different styles. He’s more of a sadist, I’m more of a submissive. And while he comes close to a lot of the ideals I hold for a dominant, I don’t quite align with some of the stuff he likes in terms of degradation and masochism.

But, we love each other and it’s not a deciding thing. However, he wants a girl one day that he can call “Cunt,” just like I have someone I call “Daddy.” And this morning, I indulged him with talking about her.

While some of the pangs still came up, a lot of them didn’t. For once, I even got turned on.

Reblogged for the way her cute little head bobs up and down. I just can’t. It’s so precious.

He says he has this fantasy of whoring me out. I’ll admit that maybe, just maybe, I’ve got a little bit of a fantasy about it, too.

“How much would it cost?” I asked.

He smiled, “two hundred dollars.”

“Two hundred dollars?” I exclaimed. “That’s so inexpensive.”

The thing is that making it ridiculously cheap turns him on. He likes the degradation of it. On the other hand, I prefer to feel special and expensive and precious.

“Fine, how much do you think it’s worth?” he asked.

I huffed. “Four million.”

“Nobody pays a four million dollars for that, sweetheart,” he chuckled. “He’ll probably only take ten minutes once he gets his hands on you, anyway."

"And what if he wants an hour?” I pouted.

He smirked. “Nah. Still two hundred.”

Hmph.

Me: So I kind of had dirty thoughts today at the gym about you, me and SG having a threesome.
Me: And you like fucking me hard from behind and directing him to fuck my face.
Craftsmate: Aww, look at that, Sweetheart wants all the attention from the boys.
Me: Hmph, stop.
Craftsmate: Aww, did I make your little cheekies red?
Me: Stop ittttt.
Craftsmate: Don’t think it’s gonna be easy like that for you. Just because there are two boys you think they’re both going to fuck you?
Me: Uh huh.
Craftsmate: Maybe we’re going to make you sit by the TV and spread your cunt.
Me: YOU’RE SO MEAN.
Craftsmate: And during the commercials we’ll take a few looks at your slutty hole all dripping wet with need.
Me: Nuh uh.
Me: It’s not fair.
Craftsmate: Yeah? Well, then you’d better dress the part. You know how slutty clothes can get you some attention.
Me: I’ll dress really slutty, I promise.
Craftsmate: But honestly I think the best role for you is to use you as a service slut to kneel on the floor while we drink and watch TV.
Me: It’s not fair. This was my fantasy.
Me: I want all the attention.
Craftsmate: Girls who are greedy for attention often end up with none at all.

Woah now.

I just noticed the other head peeking over his shoulder.

Making this kind of, you know, oh, officially everything.

showmewhatimmisssing:

thekinfolksociety:

Notre jour viendra

Wow

princesshoneycunt:

Hey, Pea, ever get the craving for a little sis to break in?

Easing out the Kinks, Part Seven

Eventually, we got some alone time and I got the clamps off and blushingly handed them off to Penthouse.

Perhaps seeing that I was a little anxious, Craftsmate started to tickle my wrist. I attempted to swat his hand away, pouting. With a smirk, Craftsmate snatched my wrist and prodded his finger into my ribs. I felt Penthouse grab onto my other wrist, holding it firmly.

“Guys,” I whined when they started tickling me, stopping only to switch their grasp so my arms were crossed over my chest. Satisfied, they sat back and attempted to watch the television while I groaned and squirmed on the couch. I went back and forth between asking one to let me go, and when he refused, I’d just turn to the other and ask. However, I was completely unsuccessful.

Eventually, they let go of my arms, claiming that maybe I deserved a few minutes to prove that I could behave. I huffed and gave Penthouse a shove. “You guys are assholes,” I said right before Penthouse grabbed my arm and bent it behind my back.

My face was pressed against the couch and Craftsmate was holding firmly onto my other arm before I could realize what had happened. I groaned and tried to wrench my arms away. “You know what she hates?” Craftsmate said before reaching down and pinching my ass. Penthouse joined him, both laughing and enjoying themselves.

“Fuck you,” I replied, somewhere between irritated and aroused. What can I say? I like being ganged up on.

Penthouse reached up and looped his fingers into my hair. “You’re being rude,” he chastised, “now be sweet to Craftsmate and give him a kiss.”

“On the cheek,” Craftsmate added, “because you’ve been a brat.”

I huffed and complied. For people who weren’t always compatible in communication, Penthouse and Craftsmate were far too good at working together to torment me.

Her daddy always says she’s the greediest at playdates.

She says she’s just the best hostess ever.

Though she wanted to be shared, she was frightened at the prospect of someone new having control.

And so, when the time came that she was to be given to someone else, he sat with her. He played with her hair, he stroked her cheek, he whispered encouragements. He grounded her when everything else seemed so foreign and terrifying.

Even though she could not see him, she felt safe, if not a little bashful for how much she was enjoying herself. And when it was done he held her and they both, in their own ways, were proud.

Ivy

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threesome

Hmph.