Thursday, December 3, 2009

Sex. But Not As Most Men Know It

“Well, the wife did something yesterday that she hasn’t done much of in the previous few months… use me for sex. It was very nice, to say the least.”
The above sentence is not original with me. I read it at Latest Talk. If you are interested in a female controlled sex scenario, you should read it. What I found interesting, in addition to its content, is that I could have said that.

MW has been hinting about pleasure, which usually means her pleasure. But I find it impossible to separate her pleasure from mine, unless mine is all pain. But even then there is some pleasure associated with it, so I will take the pain that she so generously gives me any time.

It was in the evening. I was reading a Scarpetta novel in bed while waiting for her to finish her shower. She returned with a comment, “That crazy cat opened the bathroom door and let all the heat out.” With winter here, we do have some cold evenings when a portable heater in the bathroom is a welcome addition. That screwy cat has learned to open doors from either direction. She does that just to be on the other side, whichever side that might be. To keep her from doing that, we usually have to lock the door as opposed to just allow it to latch as we close it.

MW sat reclining on the bed, which was my cue to apply lotion to her feet. “Do it only in places that you don’t want to suck and nibble,” she said. We both know that I will do anything she wants, but I don’t prefer the taste of hand lotion. I was tempted to be a wise guy and skip the lotion, but I knew that would not be really wise, so I treated her feet to the lubricious liquid. After I sat on the other side of the bed she lay down and rolled diagonally across the huge bed. With her back side up, I had my second cue to go to work on the massage. I was at it for about ten minutes, when she said, “I would feel much better if you had tit clamps on.”

Offhand I don’t see how anybody could feel better if my tits ended up between nasty little clamps, but maybe some of the people that I have pissed off over the years would enjoy my pain for vengeance.

The photo was not taken last night during this wife led sexual scenario (it is from about a year ago), but the result was similar. I fetched the clamps and handed them to her. She in turn applied them to the appropriate male tits with the commensurate pain that followed. My already hard little guy kicked into gear and was way ahead of me as a result. I went back to work on the painful massage of MW.

We came to a point in this process when she decided that we must accelerate the scenario. I, personally, would have been willing to start with the ultimate titillation, but as you know, women are different. They like to be built up to the ultimate in slow stages. So, she turned over her luscious body to challenge me with another set of curves. Now her front side was up, and my tits began to numb enough so that I could concentrate on the work ahead.

I seldom can tell how well I am doing except by having my ass whacked when I do it wrong. It is kind of like driving a car forward by looking at where you have been. This time there was a clear indication: she parted her thighs. Some men would take that as an invitation, which I did. But an invitation to what? We have done all this before, so I knew that the invitation was for my tongue. “Sorry, little guy, some other time for you.”

What was left opened my mind to the ultimate pleasure: giving her what she wants with my tongue. This sort of activity had been related in prose, verse, and videos, so I doubt that I could add much. Sure, I could use flowery phrases and inventive description which are the fodder of romance novels. Maybe some day I will do that. But for now I played her like a professional plays a fine musical instrument. At some point my fingers were involved, and then later my head was nearly pinched off as she completed her throes of passion. Her scent and flavor were all over my face. As she continued with her repeated orgasms she pressed her thigh against one of the tit clamps on me. She knew she was causing me pain from the sounds I made. As if that was not enough, she pulled the chain on the other nipple to add to my sweet suffering. With her other hand she grabbed the boys and pulled hard. I had a hard time coordinating the various pains and pleasures, but I managed. She finally pushed me away. After a few seconds I offered, “Should I leave you with the girls? I wouldn’t mind.”

With the clamps still on my tits I waited for her answer. I think that she was done for the night. A few minutes later she pulled off the clamps and allowed me to return to normalcy.

Thus ends another night in Paradise. I could live with this!


Anonymous said...

"I played her like a professional plays a fine musical instrument."

Tremendous line. So concise, yet so full - it offers much to the imagination - sights, even sounds of music playing. Personally, I'm hearing strings - cello, violin - and imagining you as the virtuoso, bringing that music to a crescendo.


Anonymous said...

Wha a beautiful and a bit jealous making entry. Thanks.

slave b said...

That sounds like a fantastic night - glad to hear you enjoy serving her like that :-)

Susan's Pet said...


You are not bad yourself describing your vision of me doing her justice.


You seem to do fine, and get the ultimate pleasure more often than I. I guess you may have earned more than I, so I don't complain.

Slave b,

Thanks. I hope you get some of that, and often. After all, serving a woman is our ultimate pleasure!

Anonymous said...

Ah! The joy of an unreciprocated orgasm. It is such a wonderful thing!

Her Majesty's Plaything said...

Wow so many similarities. We too read Scarpetta. Our cats also open doors. I don't mind the taste of lotion, however, and have become quite accustomed to it! :-p

I would very much enjoy providing Her Majesty with pleasure in the fashion you describe here. Kudos and thanks for sharing! It sounds like a truly lovely evening! :-)

Susan's Pet said...


It is interesting how we sometimes develop a taste for things. I suppose, in context, I could learn to like the flavor of lotion. Sucking it off her toes would be a gift from her. After all, twenty-five years ago when I first tasted Scotch Whiskey I did not like it. Today I practically live on it. Then there is my wife forcing me to eat my own cum when we have thatthat kind of sex. I still have a problem with that, then again, the context is everything.