Friday 18 December 2009

Going down

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Monday 14 December 2009

Fisting

I have only been fisted by 2 people: my husband, G., and me. It was something he’d wanted to do for a long time, and although I was a little nervous, I liked the idea and so one afternoon we went for it, very slowly and using a lot of lubrication (and probably after a bottle of wine or so). And I discovered that I love being fisted.

We don’t do it that often -- like most couples who’ve been living together for a long time, our busy lives and perpetual knackeredness tend to get in the way of sex, so every time it goes the same way: first 2 fingers, then 3, then 4 and finally, slowly and agonisingly, the thumb goes in and he’s pushing up into me, and my cunt is stretching round his knuckles, until now his whole fist is in me and my tormented muscles can finally relax around his wrist. I usually have to get him to stay still like that for a good couple of minutes, to give me time to get used to that incredible fullness that’s on the verge of being unbearable, then slowly he starts pushing in and out, a little at a time, while I play with my clit and beg him to go harder and harder, and I come, wave upon wave of overwhelming sensation, and the whole world is reduced to his fist pounding into my depths, until I collapse in a quivering heap, totally spent.

It’s only after he’s fisted me that I can take - and indeed demand - the entire length of his rather large cock within me as he takes me from behind. With my head down and my arse in the air, as if I were praying to Mecca, he rams it home, fast and furious, until he comes, and I can feel his cock throbbing within me, as it pumps out every last drop of semen.


In comparison, self fisting is a bit of a letdown. I do get off on the idea of doing something like that myself - it makes me feel good and dirty. But there is no denying that I'm physically unable to get my fist deep enough or thrust it fast enough (nor is it really big enough) to give myself such a huge orgasm as G can.

What I would really like would be to fist (and be fisted by) another woman. In fact making love to another woman, which regrettably I have never done, is my overriding sexual ambition. Who knows if I will ever get to carry it out.

Wednesday 9 December 2009

Telling my husband

I decided to tell my husband about the blog. I never had any doubts about his reaction: I knew it would turn him on as much as it does me. He already had a massive erection before he’d even finished reading the first entry.

“So now you need to give me a show,” he said. What’s more, he told me exactly how we wanted me to do it: on my hands and knees, with my arse in the air towards him. Now this is not a position I would ever take up by choice when self-pleasuring, as it’s all about (someone else’s) visuals, and although I do occasionally watch myself in a mirror when I’m wanking, making a show of it is not my primary concern.
But still, this was a performance, so what he wanted was what he got. First, I slowly rubbed some hand cream over my breasts, lingering over my nipples. Then I spread some more cream over my vag, before moving into position, on one hand and knees, arse up, with old faithful slipping in and out of my cunny as I looked through my legs to watch his expression. Then I turned over on my back with my knees bent and legs spread wide, so I could play with my clit as I plunged my vibrator in and out in front of his face. After I came, he rammed his dick – by this time dripping with its own lube – hard up me and thrust into me at full speed, until he too came, slamming his cum down into my depths.

Friday 4 December 2009

My favourite toy

My favourite toy is an inflatable butt plug. I’m not much of a one for anal stimulation, and in fact I use my plug in my cunt, not my rectum. I inflate it slowly, one pump at a time, as I play with my clit, then when it’s as full as it gets and I’m on the verge of coming, I let all the air out and start again. I stop touching my clit for a while, to hold off my orgasm for as long as I can, and tease myself by licking my finger and running it very quickly over my clit so it jumps to attention. I keep this up for as long as I can resist, but that’s not usually long – 3 or 4 full inflations and a few minutes is all I manage before the urge to come drives out everything else.

Wednesday 2 December 2009

Letting my finger do the talking

My basic wanking technique is very simple: middle finger only, right hand, anti-clockwise circular motion on my clit (so that my clit moves with my finger, rather than my finger over my clit).

Of course, I do have variations on the theme, but that’s my standard modus operandi.

Tuesday 1 December 2009

I see I have a follower

How exciting! I shall think of you as I write, getting off (I hope) on reading about what I like doing to myself. Feel free to comment - I'll be interested to read them.

Dreaming of Adam Ant

I dreamt of Adam Ant the other night. I find it strange that I never fancied him as a teenager, even though the Ants were my favourite band. Inexplicably, and with a fine ignorance of sexual persuasion, I was mad about Jon Moss, drummer with Culture Club and Boy George's lover at that time. Not of course that there is any reason why a straight girl can’t fancy a gay man, although it does make the chance of scoring even less likely than with your average schoolgirl/pop star crush.

I recently read Adam's autobiography and have been re-listening to his early albums, which may explain why he has been on my mind. I also watched Jubilee, a dreadful film but one which showcases Adam’s beauty to perfection. I have to condemn my teenage self for a lamentable missed opportunity: he really was gorgeous and I never once wanked off while thinking about him.

Anyway. In the way of dreams, it started in the middle. We had done the polite conversation bit and were already taking our clothes off, very neatly and sedately (and not even each other's clothes). I was admiring his wonderfully trim body and looking forward to getting my hands all over it. I think in my dream he was his real age but still with the body and looks of his 25-year-old self. He wasn’t wearing any make-up. He looked mouth-wateringly wonderful.
I’d just run a bath and was leading him to it, when suddenly I looked down and realised that I had the most enormous bush - masses of grey pubes, 6 inches long, sprouting out all over the place. I was just thinking that it might be a good idea to give them a trim, when he spotted them (it would have been hard not to).

And that was the end of any chance I had of shagging Adam Ant, even in my dreams.