BDSM


Thank you for making me feel so relaxed and welcome. Thank you for liking so many of the same things that I do, and concurring on so many others. Thank you for the tea with milk, and for then rendering said tea irelevant as my mouth was busy elsewhere.

Thank you for stroking my skin, and playing with my hair. Thank you for being so much fun to be with.  Thank you for being a wonderful kisser. I could kiss you for hours, days even. I might end up looking something like Mick Jagger, but it’d be worth it.

Thank you for taking me from zero to tsunami in under 10 seconds — a feat hitherto only ever achieved (speedwise) by my glass friend. Thank you for taking me from behind; it’s my favourite position (see above “liking the same things as I do”).

Thank you for hugging me and holding me close. Thank you for making me laugh, and then laughing at my attempts at humour. Thank you for being so damn sexy. Thank you for making me feel so natural and happy.

Thank you for letting me pleasure you. Thank you for getting hard for me. Thank you for telling me to suck your balls — I’d have sucked them anyway, but I really enjoy being given, and following, (certain) orders in the bedroom (from specific people).

Thank you for the one for the road. It did indeed last the whole way home, the rest of the day, all of last night and is still going — not so much in terms of orgasmic buzz but in terms of glowing from the inside out. Were I to walk past a Geiger counter, I’d be surprised if it didn’t light up and dance all over the surface on which it stood.

Thank you for everything — and in particular, for thanking me. I can’t think of a higher compliment. As you said to me, it was wonderful having you, and I couldn’t agree more.

It was never an ambition of mine to be fisted.

In fact, when reading this piece, I was reminded of how I once felt about the whole fisting experience. Except I was far less enthusiastic than she sounds.

“Euw,” I thought to myself on more than one occasion.

“A whole fist? Inside my poor little pussy? What if it goes too far in, and I feel his watch in me– and it snags on one of the leftover pubic hairs goddamn-them that evaded the all-pervading destruction of my depilatory efforts? What then? Aiieee!!!”

When i imagine the bad of a situation, I tend to go straight to worst-possible-case scenario, and wallow there for a while. It’s one of the joys of being neurotic. Of which there are many.

And then it happened for the first time.

I lay in his arms, and I could feel his fingers inside me, probing into the deepest part of me, furiously. It was his desire to make me gush my come all over his hand, and by golly he was giving it his all.

“How many are inside me?” I asked him. “Fingers, I mean.”

He giggled. (How sexy is it when a guy giggles with pure pleasure? It could sway even the most frigid of hearts, I’ll bet.)

“Umm… all of them.”

“All of them? All???”

“Yeah. All.”

“All. Four. Fingers.”

“Yes, all four. And don’t forget my thumb.”

“You mean you’re….”

“Yeah. I’m fisting you. How does it feel?”

It felt fabulous, if the truth be told. I felt filled up, but it was different than the thick-cock-filling-me-feeling. And it was lovely, because the movements made by his fist inside me were so different to a cock. So sensual, yet so raw and so powerful. I could liken the smooth, fullness of the moments to how it felt immediately after my anal passage relaxes and allows a cock that is fucking it full access.

It was wonderful.

But I was still doubtful. I mean, if it was this easy, what had stopped all my other lovers from trying it? Was it because this guy was more perverted? Unlikely. Perverted in a different way, maybe?

Yeah — maybe.

I strained to look. “I wanna see!”

“Here, I have an idea. Hold on a second…”

His voice trailed away as he reached behind him and grabbed a large professional digital camera from the stand next to the bed. He fiddled with it a little, and then handed it to me and started positioning my arms with his free hand.

“Wait… let me move your hands for you… lift your arms up a bit… yes.. that’s it. Now push the button.”

I duly pushed the button, and heard the satisfying click-whirr-clunk of a photo taken. He took the camera from me, and single-handedly adjusted it so that it reflected the last picture taken, and then showed me.

Sure enough, there was my cunt, and his fist… all the way inside it. (And he wasn’t wearing a watch.)

It’s the oddest thing to see your pussy iconized like that. The whole picture was my pussy and his wrist protruding from it. And as i was looking at it, I could feel his fist inside me. Accommodating myself to fit him had been far easier than I’d thought, although I am not terrifically big in the cunt area.

Practicalities dispensed with, we returned our attentions to fucking. Specifically, to him fucking me with his hand.

His whole hand all the way inside me. Fisting me.

The sweetest and most intense pressure as his pace increased and my grip on reality started to unhinge. The build-up inside me of pre-orgasmic excitement and an almost-but-not-quite unbearable tension in my bladder or thereabouts spiralled me higher and higher to orgasmic bliss until i came and gushed out rivers of fluid all over his hand, and I heard his contented sigh of satisfaction.

“That’s it, come for me baby. Yesss….”

I exhaled, and lay back, exhausted. I felt his hand slide out of me, caressing me as it slid. I heard his satisfied breathing complementing my own jagged coming-down gasps and i felt blissed-out and dazed.

My first fisting.

Fleshbotted again.

She felt him slide in and out of her, as he lay on top of her, holding him close to her.

“You like that?” he whispered lasciviously into her ear. “My cock is all the way inside your ass. Do you like it like that?”

She shivered with joy, and murmured a tiny “Yes…” into the pillow.

He hugged her tighter, and continued to slowly pump himself into her.

“That’s so good to hear, baby. You’re such a good girl.”

*******************

This entire anal sex episode had started some months earlier, on a theoretical level. The subject had come up in conversation, and nervously she had mentioned how she was scared of trying it again.

“I tried it once,” she typed him on an Instant Message application. “It hurt so badly, and only after a long time did it start feeling good. I tried once or twice since, but I couldn’t make it past the pain.”

There was dead air for an ominous and elongated minute and then she saw that he was typing a reply.

“Firstly,” he wrote, “you needn’t worry. The key is to relax. And you are under no obligation to do anything — if you’re not happy, it just won’t happen. You have to trust me – which I know you do. But i will not — would not — ever force you to endure anything that you have no desire to do. Know that, and relax.”

Reading those words did relax her. Immediately.

“Thank you,” she typed in, gratefully.

He continued.

“It is all about technique. And arousal. And trust. Don’t worry, baby, it will be fine.”

And then he had to go. Much relieved, and feeling unburdened, she breathed easily, and ceased worrying.

*******************

As they’d entered the room it had been how it always was with them. Drawn together as if magnetic, she’d reveled in his touch, so strong and sensual and familiar. The expression “melting into his arms” wafted through her head, and she dismissed it as too trite, but it still resonated. It was, after all, exactly how she felt.

The urge to control manifested itself almost immediately. As they kissed, he tugged at her hair and she weakened.

“Get naked, baby. Now. And hop onto the bed.”

She did as she was told.

“Good girl. Lie next to me.”

Again, she did as she was bid. She truly trusted him, which was why she’d allowed him to take control ever since their first meeting. He embraced her, and then shifted himself so that he was lying on top of her, as she lay on her stomach. His arms encircled her and she could feel their strength. He whispered to her, and she could feel his lips move against her ear, which excited her all the more.

“I’m going to fuck you so good. So. Damn. Good. Such a good girl you are, baby. And so wet and ready for me. ”

He slid himself inside her cunt from behind, and held himself there, impassive. She pushed herself back onto him, and he started to pump into her, slowly. Deliberately.

“That’s it, baby. Give me that pussy.”

The fingers of his left hand found their way into her mouth where she sucked, teased and licked them lovingly. Her hips were angled upwards, giving his right hand access to the entrance to her cunt, where his fingers stroked her slowly, bringing her to a thundering clitoral climax.

As she shuddered beneath him, she felt his right hand move from her cunt to the side of her body. Moments later, she felt a dribble of deliciously cold lube trickle between her cheeks, and his hand begin to play around her tight little anus. A finger slid in, and she gasped. Was she ready? She wasn’t sure.

“Relax, baby. I want you to relax your muscles. All of them. Will you do that for me?”

“I’ll try,” she mumbled into the pillow.

“What was that?”

He pulled her head up by the hair, to improve the acoustics. She repeated herself, only more coherently.

“Good girl. My good girl.”

She felt one finger slide inside her, and then two. His thumb massaged the anus, and she succumbed to the sensation.

Suddenly, sharp pain, and she yelped.

“Ow, fuck!”

“You’re not relaxed enough, baby,” the sensuous voice murmured. “Trust me. Yes?”

She nodded, and made a conscious effort to do just that. The massaging resumed, which felt great. Then she felt him slide into her, and absolutely no pain at all… only the mild discomfort that goes hand-in-hand with that great feeling of having one’s ass ploughed.

It was fabulous. His voice in her ear once more, delighting her.

“You like that? My cock is all the way inside your ass. Do you like it like that?”

Oh god, did she ever.

UPDATE: We here at Juno Central find to our delight and amazement that we have once again been Fleshbotted by the very lovely Chelsea G Summers… Thank you so much, from the deepest recesses of all my fun places, Chelsea… *smooch*

“I’m going to fuck you to bits.”

She shifts so that she can kiss the top of his head.

“I should damn well hope so. And i believe you’ve started as you mean to go on.”

He holds her to him tightly, kissing her hard, one hand pinching her nipple firmly, the other deep between her labia. Their bodies entwined around each other, after that explosive and feverish reconnection fuck, as they both subside.

This is how it begins.

*********************************

Entering the apartment has been the usual story. As they journeyed there, it has been the usual proper and decorous behaviour; very above board, aside from the occasional hand-squeeze or hidden fondle.

As soon as the door closes behind them, however, the atmosphere takes a turn for the seriously perverted.

Initially, his signature move: slamming her into the kitchen table and kissing, kissing, kissing; feeling her body react to his through her clothes; the heat of her cunt seeping through to the palm of his hand; the arousal in her nipples obvious by their diamond-like hardness.

Breathless and reeling, their lips eventually parting as their eyes meet, and telepathy takes over. Wordlessly, she removes her shirt, and stands before him; brazenly toying with the clasp on her bra; teasing him with her eyes; baiting him.

He grabs her face and kisses her again, as his hands roughly extricates one breast from her still fastened bra, and slaps it hard, before squeezing her nipple. She moans, and he slaps her again.

Her eyes still meet his, not wavering for a second. Challenging him.

He tenderly caresses her hair, before grasping the back of her head and forcing her down onto his cock. She opens her mouth eagerly to swallow as much of his long thick shaft as she can, gagging a little, but not allowing it to deter her.

“That’s my good little slut. Take it in, take it all in. Yes…..”

Unable to raise her head, she lies across his knees, causing the chair to wheel backwards slightly. He relaxes his hold on her, and moves his hands from their hold on her head, only to pull her toward the bed.

She doesn’t resist.

Once supine and adjacent, the kissing begins again, yet somehow even more passionate than before. The urgency has increased, the tempo has quickened, and the fever burns even brighter between them.

She tugs his shirt off him, aching to trace the beautifully sculpted muscles in his torso. Her fingertips find his pierced nipple and toy with it gently before suddenly pinching and twisting it tightly, to his obvious delight.

She’s never been a particularly consistent sub. Too damn feisty. He likes that, in an odd sort of way.

He abruptly ends this foray into switching by ripping her jeans and panties down to her knees and parting her cunt with his hand.

“God-DAMN but you’re wet. And you know I’m going to make you wetter.”

She sighs her acquiescence as he kicks her remaining clothing off, and slides three fingers straight into her.

“You want my fist in you, dirty girl?”

“Mmmm. Oh god yes, yes, yes.”

Another finger. Then the thumb. Her insides contract and shift to make room for him, and he starts to fist fuck her hard. She shudders and jolts with the intense rhythm, feeling her g-spot become her epicentre. As she nears her first orgasm, she cries out; the second apex overtakes her almost instantaneously, and the third almost as quick, pushes her yet further into bliss.

She knows that it can hit higher and deeper within her, and she abandons herself to his insistent fist inside her. She holds the building orgasmic gush within her until she finally releases it, soaking him, the sheets, and herself as she wails uncontrollably with ecstasy.

Yes, this is how it begins. Imagine how it continues.

He raised an eyebrow at me over the carafe of water placed between us on the table. As I lifted a forkful of deliciously rare steak to my lips, he asked me:

“Did you enjoy yourself this afternoon? You were wet; god, so wet. Gushing. Like… wow. Unbelievable.”

The casually tossed out sentence spiraled me back in time approximately four hours. In my mind’s eye, I was detached from myself; floating above where I’d lain on the bed. Well, when I say lain, I mean positioned on all fours. Cuffed. Bound. Blindfolded.

My wrists were shackled by two sweet, minx-fur handcuffs, crossed and positioned over my head, so that i veered between balancing on my elbows and forearms, and occasionally adding my blindfolded forehead to the mix. The covering for my eyes was a rather elegant scarf made of silk jersey that I’d worn last for my sister’s wedding. I loved the irony of how elegant an item could also function so well in such depraved circumstances. My ankles were tied with rope, crossed firmly in place to ensure that my ass and cunt were on full display to him, and that he could do anything he wanted to or with me.

Ah, sweet submission.

In my cunt buzzed a rabbit vibe. The ears were hit-and-missing my clit, but to be honest, i was so overwhelmed by sensations that this was the least of my concerns. Occasionally he’d push it further inside me, from where it had involuntarily escaped due to slickness and enthusiastic vibrations.

In my ass — well, there was no stability of routine to what was going on with my ass. Between his fingers, another vibrating dildo and his cock, my ass was fair game for pretty much anything that afternoon.

*******************

He’d begun this adventure by blindfolding me as I lay supine and expectant. I was sad to no longer see the evil look in his eye as he thought of tasks and punishments to delight and arouse me, but i acquiesced, like a good sub.

I’m learning. And this learning curve is way more fun than any such curve I was on in school.

He’d tapped my face with a finger, and commanded me to suck his taut upstanding cock. I’d reached out a hand to find it, and bring my mouth closer, when i suddenly felt a massive blow to my left buttock.

Thwack!

“Did I tell you that you could use your hands?”

I shook my sightless head mutely.

“Understand, Juno. Only your tongue. I want you to learn the layout of my body with your tongue. If you use your hands again, your next punishment will be more extreme.”

It was a shame that he couldn’t see my eyes glitter with excitement behind the silk jersey. I think he noticed my excited shivers though, as he seemed pleased with my quietly nodded response.

I felt his cock come close to my face, grazing my cheeks and nose. I reached out my tongue, to catch it, taste it, wrap it in my soft warmth — and then felt it move away abruptly.

Thwack! Another spank, this time on my other buttock.

“Your blow jobs are terrible today, Juno. I don’t know what’s wrong with you.”

In my heart of hearts I could sense him biting back ferocious giggles. I wasn’t sure I could hear any withheld laughter in his voice, but I knew he was laughing. He knew what he was doing, he knew that under no circumstances could anyone achieve anything even vaguely resembling the most rudimentary form of blow job with the time allowed for contact between cock and tongue. He also knew that I knew how much he loved the way in which I performed fellatio on him. This was his game, his way of teasing and delighting me.

“Get on all fours, ” he directed, pushing me onto my side in order to give me a fighting chance at getting into position relatively unaided.

And then began the games with my ass.

He began by starting to slide an unlubed finger into me — and immediately I forgot the game, forgot the rules, and cried out for mercy.

“Please, baby, please. Use the lube… i know I’m not supposed to speak, I know you’ll spank me for this… I don’t care. Use the lube. Please. Have mercy!”

He made no comment to my outburst, but paused, and I could hear lube-squirting-onto-finger noises. I knew he’d heard my plea as it had been intended — one from the heart. I thanked heaven silently that he was a compassionate person, and that since I’d been the first person to ever finger-fuck his ass (an event that had taken place only that morning) and had made a point of using lube when I did, he’d know that I wasn’t being cheeky in an attempt to have my ass paddled.

His finger slid into my ass, and I gasped as it was withdrawn and then replaced with an almost-identical companion digit.

“That’s good, baby… yes?”

I nodded.

“Does it feel good when I combine it with this?” he asked.

Suddenly my cunt was filled with 8.5″ of rabbit vibrator. The fingers continued to move in and out of me. I was floating in bliss, experiencing mini-orgasms in rapid succession. The fingers were once again withdrawn, and this time replaced with a (well-lubricated) plain vibrator.

Dual penetration. And buzzing vibrations with it. I was nearing complete ecstasy. I cried out in blissed-out joy, which was what he’d been waiting for.

Thwack! Whack! Smack! His hand landed a series of blows on my buttocks.

“Who said you could speak, slut?”

I bowed my head penitently.

He leaned over until I could feel his lips against my ear, and his breath on my cheek. “Now I’m going to punish you,” he murmured meaningfully. My mind raced as to what my punishment might entail. I knew what I hoped it would be.

Slowly and deliberately, he removed the plain vibrator from my ass, and pushed the rabbit further into my cunt from where it had strayed. He paused to sweep his hand beneath the rabbit to collect some of my previously gushed juice, and added a judicious dollop of lube, smearing the mixture up and down his shaft. I couldn’t see this, but I knew it was what he was doing by the action that followed. And it was exactly what I’d hoped.

I felt his cock nudging at my anus. Idly I wondered whether the dildo that had been in it previously would have had any kind of stretching effect. And then, as the initial pain hit and I wondered afresh why i ever allowed men anywhere near my poor little ass if this was the effect (immediately prior to the mumbling blissful feelings that followed during which I mercifully forgot and blocked out all thought of the agony), i realized that no great stretching had been effected.

But then, as it always does, the pain receded and the pleasure began. For a Dom who was fucking my ass but good, he was surprisingly gentle and smooth, and i allowed myself a whimper or two of ecstatic bliss. The vibrator buzzing within me combined with the ass-fucking sensations brought me closer and closer to orgasm until it suddenly hit, and i gasped as the vibe flew onto the bed, when my cunt shuddered from within and forced it out.

As I subsided into a quivering heap of happiness and post-orgasmic satisfaction, he removed my blindfold, and my shackles, thereby ending the Dom/sub session. It was just me and him again.

“Did you come?” I whispered, all but spent from the hours of fucking.

“I came in your ass,” he grinned. “I’ve wanted to do that since I met you.”

And playfully spanked me once more on my ass… for luck.

Previously on The Erotic Journal of Juno Henry:
Frissons of excitement ran across my skin, as I felt his hand move across and down my body languorously, until he reached my breast and gave it a playful slap. I gasped in surprise as much as anything, and hummed happily.

My adventure was just beginning.

I must state something about the way we were looking at each other. The attraction was so intense, so very strong, that each time our eyes met I felt as though their imprint was burned right into the back of my skull.

“I’m not sure what to do… or not to do,” I whispered.

“You’ll do what I tell you to do,” he replied. “I’m not going to bark orders at you like a drill sergeant, I’m just going to show you and tell you what to do, and you’ll do it. And you’ll love the outcome, you must trust me with that. OK?”

I nodded wordlessly, my eyes never leaving his. The beauty of it was how it felt so natural. There was no sense of chastisement, no feeling of being looked down upon or ridiculed. I had absolutely no sense of dis-empowerment, which I think is the key. As a dear friend had once said to me about a good Dom/sub connection, it’s a two-way street. Essentially, the sub is the one calling the shots, because she can have absolute trust and faith in her Dom, and this in turn means that any eventual outcome will be mutually beneficial.

He positioned me as he wanted me — my arms above my head, secured by one of his big, strong hands. (Mmmm. Tennis players. Mmmm.) He lifted one of my legs, and placed it up high, with my foot on his shoulder. He then positioned himself above me, his cock poised at the entrance to my cunt, which was extremely wet and slippery by this stage.

“Stay still,” he said. I nodded.

Our eyes still locked, he slid inside me slowly. This not being the the first time we’d fucked, it wasn’t a new sensation to feel his cock enveloped by my taut vaginal muscles, but it felt as good as it ever had, if not better. Once all the way inside, he remained motionless for what seemed like an hour, but couldn’t have been more than a minute. I said nothing, and gave no indication of the desperate yearning I felt to feel him thrust in and out of me. I just lay there, supine, my eyes burning back into his. I knew I was being tested, and I was determined to succeed with flying colors.

Eventually he began to pump in and out of me, and involuntarily I let out a grunt of satisfaction. He smiled at me, as he moved within me, and then slapped my left buttock, as he increased the intensity of his thrusting.

Damn, but it felt so good.

He lowered his face to mine.

“Kiss me.”

I obliged. That man could kiss. Goddamn! Apparently, he thought the same of me. He moaned softly, and gently bit my lip.

“Oh my god, I love the way you kiss. Where did you learn to kiss like that?”

I giggled, despite myself. “Kissing school, of course. Where else?”

***********************

I must just take a moment from the narrative here to describe the sensation of kissing him. I’ve kissed a good few men in my time, and have been praised for my own kissing technique. As a virginal (by choice) 19 year old, while fooling around with a casual (non-virginal) 25 year old fling, I was surprised and delighted to hear him say to me, “Are you sure you’re a virgin? You do not kiss like one.”

There are so many ways to kiss or be kissed. There are the unfortunate — the slobber, the TMT (too many teeth) syndrome, the all-too delicate and feather-like kiss that borders on the barely noticeable. Then there are my more favoured techniques for being a kiss recipient. The ultra-sensual types of kisses, where a person feels firm and real, and the kiss emanates from every pore of their body. Lips that are flexible, that nip, and touch and caress in tandem with my own. A mouth that meets mine proudly and squarely; no hesitancy, no ambiguity, but with confidence and certainty.

He was all of the above, and more. The first time we kissed, my thoughts were scrambled like so many eggs, and I was literally speechless for a good few minutes afterwards, as I desperately tried to regain my composure. And failed.

**********************

As he fucked me so deliberately and slowly, I grew slightly in confidence.

“May i ask you something?” I inquired.

“Yes, Juno, of course. (Damn, but i love fucking you.” he hissed. “Your pussy is so warm and tight around my cock… god, it’s incredible.) Ask whatever you like.”

“Can i sit astride you? Is it OK if i ask that? I mean, you’d want me to ask for that and only act on it when given permission, right? Am i getting this sub thing right?”

He increased the pressure and pace of his now far-less-leisurely fucking motion.

“Of course you must ask. You’re learning fast, and you’re doing very well, baby. And yes, you can get on top of me… but not yet.”

He suddenly withdrew, and shifted himself so that he was in front of me, with his hands under my knees, lifting them.

“Right now, I’m going to taste your pussy. You must lie very still. I mean it. Don’t move.”

He bent his head until his lips were touching my labia, but so softly that i felt my ass clench in anticipation.

“No moving, Juno. Stay absolutely still.”

I did as I was bid. His tongue tickled my clit bringing me to near-orgasmic status, and then tantalizingly leaving me hanging. I groaned.

“Please make me come.”

“All in good time, Juno. Patience.” And with that, he removed his mouth from my clit, and shifted onto the bed in front of me.

I wasn’t sure whether i should ask from my position as submissive — but curiosity got the better of me, and I’d already warned Iain that i wasn’t very good at being submissive — so i cautiously asked him what he was doing.

He smiled. “Just watching you. I love looking at you. You’re so sexy.”

He moved forward until his knees were straddling my chest, and gently slapped my face with his cock. I looked at him, and he nodded at me almost imperceptibly. I opened my mouth and he slid his cock into my throat, and began fucking my face.

It wasn’t the first time that thoughts had passed between us in such a psychic manner — another fact that had me reeling. I think this was partly why i trusted him, because i knew where his head was, and that he meant every word he said sincerely and from the heart.

He deep throated me with his cock and i lapped eagerly at him, gagging slightly but remembering to breathe through my nose, and relax my throat as much as i could.

“Good girl,” he praised me. “Take it in as far as you can.”

I obliged. Cocksucking is a matter of pride to me. I always do my best, because i love to give pleasure that way. However, I’d never been in this physical position before, but I was adjusting. Kinda.

He fucked my face for a few more minutes, and then shifted once again, so that he was lying on top of me, our faces very close together.

“Kiss me,” he said. Once again, i obliged. Once again, I swooned. He slid his cock into me, as though it was the most natural thing in the world and together our mutual fucking rhythm began again, except this time it was hot and fast and furious. We were both near our peaks and needed to get there soon.

His eyes never broke from mine, as, intent on our mutual goal, we moved together, like a well-rehearsed piece of modern choreography. I could feel the mantle of orgasm begin to cloak me as he slapped my thigh — once! twice! — and then my ass — yes! hit me! yes! — and i heard myself cry out in joy as i saw his face contort and my own peak came closer as he bucked and he shuddered, and he came and I came, and i called out his name and he called out mine, as he held me tightly to him and i could smell his very wonderful earthy manly smell as i shook and convulsed and gradually subsided and he did the same and i felt his cock pulsate within me and i laughed and he laughed and we lay there together laughing quietly until we were both contented and silent and spent.

I still see Iain, from time to time. You can understand why.

I turned my head, so that my lips rested on the patch of skin just below his collar bone, and snuggled further into his body. He fractionally increased the pressure of his arms around my body, and i murmured softly into his chest. “Can i ask you a question?”

“Shoot,” he said into my hair.

“Now that we’ve fucked, will you lose interest in me? I mean, you know, no more “thrill of the chase” and all that?”

I heard his deep rumbling laugh, as he pulled away from me to look into my eyes.

“What bullshit are you talking, Juno? God, sometimes you do say such silly things. We should experiment with some BDSM so i can tie you up and flog you each time you say something stupid like that.”

“Only if i can return the favor,” I replied seriously, looking him square in the eye.

Shivers of delicious anticipation ran up and down my spine.

It was at this point that we both realized that this was definitely an avenue that required further exploration. So far, mild spanking had worked its way into our copulative efforts with great fervor and enjoyment by all, but that was as far as BDSM had intruded upon either of our lives so far.

********************************

Some weeks later, i was having a low moment and writing him an email about how things had been at the very beginning with my ex-husband, before i donned the good girl shackles that i am constantly attempting to throw off. I mentioned how it hadn’t always been completely awful, and how we’d been (what seemed to me, the innocent, way back then) somewhat experimental. We’d used ropes as sex toys and aids, securing them under my mattress for traction, since i had nothing on the bed-frame that could be rendered tie-able-to.

The email hit his cyber-mat and a reply was returned with astonishing speed and fervor.

It was comprised of a list of things i should do to fortify myself and cheer myself up, and continued thus:

“Get the ropes from under your mattress, and bring them with you when we next meet.”

He was the one to mention it first, when we next met.

I’d not brought the ropes, since the times when my ex-husband and I had so indulged had been more than a decade past, and therefore I no longer owned any. I’d searched around for replacements, before confiding in a friend who told me not to bother — anything that wasn’t cotton or silk rope was not worth the time or energy.

Once again, i lay with his strong body curled around mine, as we exhaled and recovered from an earth-moving joint climax. He bit my ear lobe gently, and murmured into my neck.

“You know that i sail on weekends sometimes?”

“Yes… mmm, i love this collar bone…”

“Juno, listen.”

“I’m listening… mmm….”

“What if you came with me one time, if you could arrange it?”

“Seriously? I’d love to.”

“And you know, don’t you, that on the boat we tie knots very… very… tight….”

I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up with excitement. I could hear his hidden sub-text loud and clear. I knew exactly what he meant, and what he was implying.

“Only if you promise not to fly me up the flagpole naked.”

He chuckled to himself. “You never know. I might. We’ll see.”

I began to tease his erect nipple gently with my teeth, as my hand palpated his ball sac, and stroked the base of his very excited (again) cock. And that was the point in the evening where we stopped speaking for a while, having far more important things to do. To each other.

********************************

I just love the thought of new sexual adventures. I’m pretty much open to anything. Since passing the age of 35, whole new worlds of experience have opened themselves up to me, and i am fortunate enough to have dismissed my earlier good-girl mentality enough to embrace each new challenge.

The only problem, as a dear friend bluntly told me, is that I am too used to the idea of being in total control of myself.

“Let yourself go, live a little.” she chided me gently. “Losing control is fine, if you are with someone in whom you have complete faith, and whom you trust fully. Besides, it isn’t necessarily a lifestyle choice. It’s experimentation. And the feel of silk rope against bare flesh is amazing. Plus, I find that when i come while I’m restrained it’s just other-worldly hot-t-t-t.”

She is, of course, entirely correct. On all counts.

Just to be clear, here, I do not knock or deride those who make this their lifestyle, not in any way at all. Would it be a way of life that i could conceivably live with? I don’t know. From where i sit right now, I’d say no, but i am not foolish enough to rule out anything anymore. And I mean anything.

To quote the late, great Bette Davis, “Fasten your seat belts, it’s going to be a bumpy ride”. A fun one, though, I’d lay money on that.