Hope you’ve got your lovers under control today! Happy Valentine’s xx
Month: March 2015
2012: nerd
2015: still a nerd but I dyed my hair
I want to do things with my life but I also want to bury myself in a forest and let the moss grow over me so where does that leave us
This blog is mine.
StandardSo it appears I’ve whispered “switchette” three times while looking into a mirror and conjured several Real People (which is to say, people who know me in real life) to follow this blog.
And this is giving me a couple feelings that I want to address. Two feelings, to be precise.
- Vulnerability: This tumblr started out as a personal journey. Literally no one I knew was aware of it but me. I created a lot of posts and reblogs and comments that touch on my real and true and exploratory and secret self. I figured I would keep it secret forever and ever.
- Pride: Apparently “forever and ever” is equivalent to approximately one year. Shortly after creating this blog, I got tired of imagining and started dipping my feet into the local kink community, and I’ve been at it like gangbusters since then. I went to an kink event this summer that changed me irrevocably; I started actively opening my quietly-poly relationship; I met and continue to meet really awesome people who push and support new parts of me; I started the process of learning to love my body; and guys, also: crop tops. (Crop tops are AMAZING!) I’m really proud of myself for taking the leap and becoming more like the tumblr bloggers whom I admire.
While sometimes knowing that I’m sharing perceived intimacies with people who know me gives me some shame (most often of the delicious variety that warms faces and wets panties), I generally forge on because this is my space.
I post dirty, pretty, mean, moist kinky things. I post gorgeous and inspiring people of color. I post a lot about racial and gender inequality and structural, institutional, and internalized oppression. I post about relationships. I post kink & sex ed. I post the occasional nerd reference, uplifting or commiserating quote, and absurd joke.
But most of all, I post for myself. Maintaining a safe space for me is of vital importance, and so I won’t waste any emotional energy defending my right to any of my posts or beliefs. Because here, I say what I want. For me, this is a space to experiment with what being wholly me might look like while I continue to evolve and to peel back the layers in other spaces in my life.
Thanks for being here with me.
And special thanks to thinkivykink, @herdirtylittleheart, and the ever-supportive ohokaybueno for modeling boldness and the adventure of selfhood before I was ready to.
Little Leg Humper
StandardA Guest Post from M
Due to some extenuating birth control circumstances, right now Sir can not cum in my pussy. He’s taken this as an opportunity to be super strict about making me practice with anal. So now I’m no longer allowed to cum unless it is from him fucking my ass.
I cum super hard from anal, but it still takes me a while to get over my nerves and get used to the sensation, so I whined like crazy about this new rule. Especially last night: he had thrown my legs over his shoulders and was pounding into my pussy, and I kept feeling like I’d explode. But every time he felt me tighten up, he’d stop, leaving me breathless, and say, “If you want to cum, you know what to ask for.” And then I’d turn my head away and squeeze my eyes shut and say “No no no no.”
“I could go for hours, slut,” he said. “So you’d better make up your mind.”
I was so desperate I was sputtering and trying to complain but not making any sense. Eventually, Sir pulled out and came on my chest. He cleaned me off and pulled me close next to him on the bed. I didn’t notice it myself, but I was still so horny that I guess I was grinding on his leg a bit.
“I’ll make you a deal, slut,” he said suddenly. “You can come tonight if it’s from humping my leg.”
Which naturally I refused up and down. I protested that that was totally humiliating and animalistic. I just couldn’t, no way, too embarrassing, nope.
But my clit was still throbbing, and as Sir pointed out, I’m just a needy little slut after all.
So I did it. I closed my eyes and rubbed myself into his leg and came in about 2.5 seconds, mouth open, as hard as I’ve come in a long, long time.
As soon as I finished shaking, I buried my face in a pillow and just about died.
“I think that’s the most turned on I’ve ever seen you,” Sir told me afterward. “But don’t think I’ll be so generous again.”
I think I could do this for hours – a slow, steady, gentle rhythm. One wouldn’t have to do it hard – it would be something a girl could cope with initially. But repetition would change the sensation, would build it, so that even though my hand fell no harder on her cunt the sensation would build, and build – from stinging, to saw, to jarring. Eventually each slap would seem to thud through her whole body as her cunt and clit became more and more sensitive. It would become unbearable – yet it would not stop. And so she would once again learn that the word ‘unbearable’ is just a lie our mind tells us – we can always bear more. We just have to be given the opportunity to do so.
Umm… this scares me and turns me on.
I think I could cum from this if F did it long enough…
Me and bae.
Sick Day, Part Three
She tried to push the panties out of her mouth to answer him, but he reached forward to push them back in, grabbing her chin and pulling back to make her arch. Then he touched the buzzing vibrator to the side of the thermometer, just above where it was pushed inside her.
She couldn’t control herself at that sensation, bucking and jerking as he held her tight to keep her from wriggling away. Her hands scrabbled at the sheets. Muffled sounds of outrage escaped her; it wasn’t painful, but not exactly pleasant either. It was sure as hell stimulating.
Then she felt him release her chin, reach back, and undo his belt.
Y’all. doctortease is back. And he has fully destroyed me. Part 1 2 3. I’m a wreck.
Not sure which part is my favorite. (Or, more truthfully, I’m not willing to admit it.)