24.7

We bought an RV and we’ve been going away weekends to frolic. I was in bed and noticed how gorgeous Richard looked while making our coffee. So I put my new iPhone 4 to good use!

PS I don’t think I’m much of a slave - he won’t ever let me make the coffee. When I suggest (respectfully) that I should do it, he says “You aren’t allowed” or “You don’t have permission” just to bug me.

I make Amy ask for permission when she wants to use the bathroom.  She used to glare at me, and mutter and scowl, but she did it.  Now it’s ingrained, pretty much a reflex.

So now I’ve started making her raise her hand, when she wants permission to go to the bathroom.  No hand raised, she doesn’t get acknowledged.

I like it.  It’s like she’s back in grade school.

Amy says we already covered this topic in some other post, but I don’t remember so…..double post!

Amy and I were talking about her sexual talents.  Well, I was talking about them.  I started by commenting that she was a freak in bed.

Oh my.

You’d think I’d slandered the Queen.  She insisted that she was “NOT A FREAK IN BED.”  I pointed out the matter of biting, etc., and the conversation switched around a little and she pouted as she maintained that some of her best sexual talents are never used.

“You just face fuck me,” she grumbled.   “I never get to give a nuanced blowjob.”

True enough.  I’m not one to sit back passively while she does stuff - I like to do stuff.  To her.

I get bored even thinking about the traditional blowjob.  What am I gonna do, lay back and think about what color to paint the roof?  I much prefer to have her choking and gagging while I drive myself deeper into her throat.

Still, there are indeed other pleasures in life beyond the obvious, and I’m thinking about giving this nuanced blowjob a try.  Amy’s always been pretty confident of her oral skills, and I might learn to like it her way, who knows?   But it’s unlikely to be number one on the menu.

“And another thing,” said Amy.  “I’m really good at seduction, I can really seduce a guy when I want to.  But I don’t get to with you.  You’re always fucking me.”

Now, there are things I’m willing to explore, like forced masturbation, or orgasm denial for her, but fucking her less often just so she can seduce me?

I draw the line there.

We are in New Orleans for a few days, our first time back for more than two years (the early trip is documented in our blog archives).  It’s different this time. We are here with another man.

Our teenage son.

Bwahahahahaha.   By the way, I didn’t mean to go all “O. Henry” on you in my last post.  I originally planned NOT to say that it was my sister we had dinner with.  But I realized that a) it’s just too cool not to mention, and b) the odds of her ever reading this are infinitely small.  I will talk more about the Daddy/little girl stuff in another post.

Back to New Orleans.  Last time we were here, we were a VERY new couple.  We bought a schoolgirl skirt and a corset and nipple clamps on Bourbon Street.  Happily we have used the first two items far more than the third.

This time we are an old married couple with a teenager.  Nonetheless, we are  figuring out ways to make it wonderful.  There are, of course, the vanilla things - beignet and chicory coffee at Cafe du Monde, the Algiers Ferry, Rock N Bowl, Acme Oyster House, Brigtsen’s, Bourbon Street (LORD, I am getting so much grief from both my boys about calling it juvenile).

There are also the not-so-vanilla things.  Last night Richard and I went out alone to hear some live music and dance a little.  At one point he was standing over my chair, rubbing my neck.  His hands started wandering enough that I began to get nervous.  Which he picked up on.  Which of course made him bolder.  Bad man.  I was trying not to be obvious, because it wasn’t that dark.  When I started to pull away he wrapped my hair around his fist and pulled my head back.  My neck was straining from the pressure and I looked up at him pleadingly.  He just smiled and kept hold of my hair while trailing his fingers over me.  Luckily everyone was dancing and watching the stage.  I hope so, anyway.

This morning he was petting me awake - my head hurt a bit from drinking (only two drinks all night!  no fair!) and I had trouble waking up - and he started playing with my breasts.  His hands became more and more insistent until I was writhing, needing to cum.  He took my hand and forced it onto my pussy and whispered “Masturbate.  Now.”  But after just a minute he said “I changed my mind.  You aren’t going to cum.   I’m going to.” And then he fucked me.  Oh God it felt so good and he came and I could tell it was really good for him and then he pulled out and said “maybe later” and got up to make coffee.

So I’ve been desperately wanting to cum all day, which he just loves.  Now he’s gone off to take street photos with our son and I am here alone, all squirmy.  I’m wondering how much trouble I would get into if I masturbated, and if it’s worth it.

We had dinner a couple of weeks ago with another Daddy/little girl couple.  Which was cool, because I’d never met another before.  In fact, I’ve spoken/written with other Daddies and little girls only briefly.  We were at a restaurant and it was really cute to watch them together.  They are still finding their way around a D/s relationship, so I think it was nice for them to see how another Daddy/little girl couple behaves in public.  (Answer: discreetly, but not vanilla.  Let me know if you need more detail. : ))

The Daddy got kind of crabby with his girl, and she responded in a very submissive and concerned way that I recognized right away.  Most of the vanilla women I know, including my previous self and this girl’s previous self, would snap back if her husband snapped at her in public.  I have often seen one unpleasant exchange like this turn into an evening of irritation and hurt feelings on both sides.  It’s amazing how much more quickly bad moods and feelings dissipate if you don’t feel a need to defend yourself.

After he’d snapped at her, and she’d been conciliatory, I could see him processing it.  I know that they both have some concerns about this kind of relationship – he is especially worried about hurting her if he needs to discipline her, and she is worried about letting go of control.  She also has one of the sharpest tongues of anyone I know, so I was impressed with her response, and I got the sense that it made him very happy.  Richard recently mentioned how proud and happy I made him a couple of times early in our relationship and how that made him feel more confident as my Dom/Daddy.  (For those of you who have been reading our blog for a while, one of those times was when I was told to put Megan’s giant buttplug in my mouth ewwwwwwwww.)

I think their kind of Daddy/little girl is pretty much just like our kind of Daddy/little girl.  A lot of Daddy/little girls are into age play, which we are not.  I’ve practiced my Richard “if it’s consensual it’s okay” attitude with that, because my initial response was to be…hmm, I’m not sure what it was.  I guess part of it, as the mother of a young girl, was wanting to be sure that Daddy/little girl not about pedophilia or incest.  My impression is that it is not; the D/lg’s that I have spoken to are very happy being part of an adult and unrelated couple.  Richard would say here (I think; I guess he’ll let us know if I’m wrong) that it wouldn’t even matter if they were, as long as it was still two consenting adults doing it.  But is it pedophilia and incest if it’s only pretend?  *ponders*

The other thing that I had a leetle trouble with at first is being invited to pajama parties or asked what “age” I am (as in: am I 6 years old, or 10 years old, or…?), or talking about crayon colors.  But again, that’s cool if that is what they are into.  It’s just not what I’m into.

So what is Daddy/little girl if it’s not age play?  I can only speak for us.  Obviously.  If you read our very early posts (from when we were at blogspot *spit curse*, but it’s also archived on this site), we were trying out Master/slave.  But we both felt a little uncomfortable with the terms.  It made me feel very disposable and replaceable (why do I keep hearing Richard in my ear today?  “Ooo disposable – hot!”).  It also felt very one-sided, and our relationship didn’t feel at all one-sided to me.  I had never felt so nurtured and cherished and valued.

Why do we need names for what we are to each other?  What about simply Husband and Wife?  Or say that we are in a 24/7 D/s lifestyle relationship, which is probably the most accurate description of what we are?

I dunno.  Richard has always called me “little girl” and “baby girl”, both of which I LOVE.  After a few months together he told me I was to call him “Daddy”.  At first it freaked me out, but now I can’t imagine calling him anything else.  Here’s the weirdest thing of all.  My little sister met and married a wonderful man at the same time that I met and married Richard, and we found out later that we both started calling our husbands “Daddy” at exactly the same time.  And that’s whom we were having dinner with.

I couldn’t find a collar for Amy that I liked, so I decided we didn’t need to put a lot of energy into it, since the collar was only a symbol.

But Amy found one that worked perfectly for us, and the other day I mentioned to her that I was very aware of when she had it on, and that I liked putting it on her, etc.

“Oh,” she responded.  “I thought you said you didn’t care about those things.”

I considered a moment, and then said “I guess I was wrong.”

“Oh” said Amy, tragically NOT considering for a moment.  “Which time?”

I woke up early, and Amy snuggled in close under the duvet; the morning sharp and cold.  She slipped both hands around my cock, murmured something, and drifted back to sleep.

We lay like this for a half hour, maybe an hour.  I enjoyed the feeling of my erection between her cool palms, and did not sleep.

I planned to cum in her.  No hurry, plenty of time.

I flipped her off me onto her side, facing away from me.  I placed one hand between her shoulder blades, and pushed, and with the other reached between her thighs to seize her pussy, and pulled her hips toward me.  A moment’s effort had her bent double, vulnerable.  I opened her ass checks, and reached in to divide her pussy lips, just enough to wedge my cock’s head at her opening.

Then I started to thrust.

I won’t call it pain, but I felt discomfort.  The guys will know what I’m talking about, that delicious twinge as  you batter at her unprepared cunt, your cock buckling ever so slightly in the middle with each thrust, a quick radiation of pain.  It passes as you keep thrusting between her still awakening labia, and you force your way into her pussy with brute strength.

She isn’t very moist, not yet.  Barely even protesting, as she still struggles with sleep.  But a steady rhythmn will loosen her, and moisten her thoroughly.

I usualy love playing with her body, making her squirm, fucking her.

But I’m not interested in fucking Amy.  Not this time.

I just want to cum.

I hold her hips and fuck her, thrusting.  I know her tits are bouncing with each thrust, and I ignore them briefly, a luxurious decadence to neglect such fine tits.

I ignore them because Amy isn’t going to cum.  I don’t want her too.  If I don’t play with her nipples, she doesn’t cum.

For a moment, I do amuse myself by grabbing one breast, feeling the delicious softness in my hand, with the ever present hardness of her nipple against my palm.  I become distracted by the thought of leaving her frustrated, and slip my hand down to tease her clit, but I abandon that idea after a few thrusts.

Truly, this was a distraction.  I didn’t give a fuck if she was frustrated or not.  I wanted to cum in her.

I fucked her swiftly, forcing her shoulders away from me.  At one point I covered her mouth, or so Amy told me after.

I ignored her perfect tits, shivering neglected as I held her hips again, driving deep.

A perfect sensation, a sharp cascade at the very point of me,  and I shuddered cum into her.

I don’t think I’ve ever posted the uncropped version of this picture here, so I figured I’d add it.

Having fun with some amy pictures.

Long-time readers of our blog know that my friend Megan, who had a huge impact on my blossoming as a sexual submissive, now lives far away from us with her wonderful, evil Master.  I have missed her like crazy and have been counting the minutes until we saw her this summer. We just left after spending four nights with her and her Master.  I was in seventh heaven and, as usual when I am with Megan, learned a lot about being submissive and being myself.

She and Robert (her Master) pulled up to where we were staying and I ran over to their car.  Robert got out first and I said “hi!” and hopped up and down waiting for Megan to get out.  Then I realized she was waiting for Robert to let her out of the car, like Richard makes me do.  So I gave Robert a big hug and waited for him to go around and open the door for Megan.

The first thing I saw was a tanned foot in a 3-inch beaded sandal, with red toenails and toe rings.  Followed by a long, shapely, tanned leg.  And then another.  Then a tall, gorgeous blond with a tiny little dress unfolded from the car.  Perfectly styled hair, knockout make-up, and of course the trademark killer body.  Wow!

Megan has always been jaw-droppingly gorgeous.   But she had entered a new realm of beautiful.  And the most beautiful thing was her face, because she was glowing.  Just radiating love, happiness, self-confidence.

I don’t think I stopped hugging her for an hour.

We stayed up talking for hours.  I can’t tell you how thrilled I am about her Master (I keep starting to say “new Master” but of course he’s not; they’ve been together for over a year now.)  I told Megan that of course I would always care about whoever her partner was, but Robert is someone I would want to be friends with even if they weren’t together.  He is really smart and has a terrific sense of humor – my two top priorities for friends and partners.  He also makes it really clear how much he loves my Megan.  He is very attentive and affectionate; he does something that I think must be very hard to do, which is to treat her with complete respect but also demand her utter obedience.

At one point I mentioned that I had bought Richard a whip for Father’s Day (what was I thinking?) and I asked if he knew how to use a whip.  He said “No, I don’t.  But that makes it hotter, doesn’t it?”  !!!!  That could have come out of Richard’s mouth!  I was almost too startled by the similarity to laugh.

I can’t remember whether it was that night or the next morning that Megan told us that she hadn’t had an orgasm in a year.  I stared at her with my mouth open, I actually thought she was teasing me at first (she does that a LOT).  When I wrote about my three day orgasm denial, which I thought might kill me, I had almost written about a conversation Megan and I had the year before.  We had agreed that orgasm denial was completely NotHot, and we couldn’t imagine any woman ever agreeing to it.  It was a hard limit for her.

So.  What the heck?  How could my sweet little cumslut friend not have cum for an entire year, and be sitting across from me looking like the cat that ate the canary?  How could she be glowing with happiness and satisfaction after a year of being deprived of orgasms?

Richard’s response was worrying.  He thought this was just awesome.  He was grinning from ear to ear as we listened to her story.  At first, Robert enjoyed making her cum, over and over and over.  Which was sexy and exhausting.  Then he started telling her she could only cum if she did before he did.  Which she managed to do, until he started messing with her, stopping just as she was on the edge and then orgasming quickly himself before she could regroup.  I remember her telling me about this at the time, and how hot and desperate and submissive it made her feel.  THEN he told her that it was making her too focused on her own pleasure and not enough on his, so…no more orgasms for her.  Period.

Megan said “I love it!  This is really perfect for me.  I am getting fucked deliciously all the time, and I’m not worrying about whether or not I will cum, because I won’t.”  She added with a grin “But maybe he’s just brainwashed me into thinking this.”  She was tucked under his arm as she told the story and at this point she looked up at him and he looked at her and there was so much love between them, I’m tearing up right now thinking about it.

Of course we talked about this on and off over the next few days, in between talking about her job and our kids and her and Robert’s future plans and more kinky stuff, like the strip clubs they go to (more on this in a later post; we visited one with them and it was a blast) and their evolving polyamorous relationship, and Second Life and on-line role-play, and on being D/s while dealing with migraines, and on and on (more on all of these later too).

When I talked to Richard about Megan’s orgasm-free existence, he said “The right tools for the right job.”  He said it made perfect sense to him that this was exactly the right thing for Megan and he pointed out that you could see it by the results.  Robert says he’s not a details-oriented Dom, he’s a results-oriented Dom.  Another way that he is like Richard.  (I told Megan they are even boring in the same way; they both like Civil War history. *yawn* I got a swat for saying that and Megan got bitten hard when she told Robert I said that.  I said “You didn’t tell him I said it, did you??” And she said, “Yes, and it was worth it!”)

This post is getting way too long, so I will write more later.  I just want to add that, in case it’s not obvious, Robert made this decision carefully and thoughtfully and they are both very happy with it.  Robert says the next step is to make her FAKE orgasms when he is fucking her.  Who could even think of anything that evil?  Well, besides Richard I mean.