Sex, Lies & Video

Sex with my Master is unlike any other I've ever had. I'm very carefully learning how to talk about my past and not ...um...upset Mr. G (I get it, I'm his toy. He doesn't want to know that anyone else has ever played with his toy). But let me just say I'm not new to the having of sex. But when he and I have actual intercourse, it's so different for me. (Why do I hear Madonna singing in my head?)

It's just that he holds me down so completely while he's fucking me. And he fucks me to perfection. He possesses me by just physically dominating my body with his. I feel so absolutely covered by him and his body, so...owned. He takes complete control when he fucks me, using me for his pleasure, but also making me feel like I am so totally his slut. His, period. He says amazingly filthy things to me (sadly, I pretty much can never remember the amazing things he says while he's fucking me and I'm cumming and cumming and cumming. i always ask permission for each orgasm and he says i can cum and he definitely says "good girl" and such, but dammit, it's too vague to describe otherwise.) He fucks my body so properly, if I was a poet, I'd write sonnets about it.

And if there's a synapse even firing upstairs, my incoherent thought would be something like “ohmygodthatssofuckinggoodthankyousirwowohmygod” He sends me to this place where I can't speak, can barely move, and am almost like blissfully semi-conscious. Don't get me wrong, I know how my blog sounds. I was making fun of myself to Mr. G last night on the phone. I just go on and on about how amazing he is and how wonderful he is and so perfect and I'm so lucky. I hear how chirpy and annoying some of this sounds. And rereading things I write does sometimes make me sort of roll my eyes at myself or think I sound totally gaga for Mr. G, like a schoolgirl. But I swear I'm not sensationalizing. I don't stretch the truth or try to amp up my blog by filling my stories with exaggerations. I just write it how I remember it. And thankfully, Mr. G encouraged me to take notes so I don't forget all the things I want to write about.

The reference to lies in my title is one of my least favorite things about being my Master's girl. I hate lying to everyone I know. I'm getting better at it, but am still really awful. And I didn't even get my cover story together, explaining where I was last week, to have any details to give. So when my sister made conversation with me, asking where I stayed and whatnot, I sounded like a total moron. Hopefully, she was distracted enough to not hear the panic in my badly told lies.

And I also learned a valuable lesson that I really need to learn to keep my fucking mouth shut. Sitting in court Monday morning, the judge was an overly friendly sort. So I was making small talk with him (I loathe small talk) and I said I was on vacation last week. He asks, "where'd you go?" And then, here I am, in court, lying to a judge. I mean, obviously, I wasn't under oath, wasn't testifying, wasn't on the record. But seriously?! I have GOT to remember to button it up more!

The video. Oh, the video. No photographs were taken this trip (boo! I always want them after the fact, even if I am horrified when they are taken) But Mr. G took some video of me worshipping his cock. He thoughtfully let me be dressed and thankfully made the video early enough in the night that my makeup was decent and my hair was recently coifed. I'm just afraid it's too tame, too mild. The cocksucking I gave him later on that night was so intense, so loud, so slurpy, so much more of everything. Even Mr. G admitted to wanting to stop mid-flow to memorialize it. But I will wait to criticize my performance until after I've seen the video. So on the plus side, on the video, I know at least I'm not naked, makeup askew, or vomiting.

I Need...

I need to be used as his sex toy. I need him to use my body so rough. To grab my face and slap it, then slap it again with his cock. I need my mouth choked with his hard cock, as he rams it down my throat. I need his hands around my throat, grabbing me tightly while he fucks me. I need to feel his burning smacks on my ass, as he's spanking me over and over. I need to be on all fours in front of him on the bed, while he stands next to it, shoving his cock in and out of my mouth. Then I need him on top of me again, shoving his cock so hard, deep in my pussy, then fucking my mouth again, letting me taste my cum on his cock. I need to hear the desire in his voice as he says “good girl” as I cum and cum and cum, all over his hand and his cock. I need to feel the urgency in his body, as he's fucking my mouth, as I struggle to take him all and suck and stroke him, while he's slamming it so hard in and out of my mouth. I need to hear him laugh under his breath, as he's fucking my mouth so hard, hearing me gag and then going right back to sucking and taking all of his cock. I need to feel his orgasm, feel his body shudder, his cock shooting his hot cum past my mouth, straight down my throat. I need to suck his cock dry, keeping it in my mouth and gently tonguing and sucking it until he removes it from me. I need this and I need permission to cum all over my toys, five, six, seven times in a row. Please, Master? Please? Please, may I cum sometime before Christmas?

Phone Sex Existentialism

Sometimes I exist only to be his dirty whore.  I am nothing but a sex object, from the hair he can pull to jerk my head around, to the legs he can pin down while he's biting me or otherwise making me squirm, and moan, and try to fight through the pain.  My pussy gets so swollen and wet.  He makes me feel like fruit ripening on a vine, sometimes getting to the bursting point. 

Now when he talks dirty to me on the phone (and you have to understand, he's so polite and British, that hearing filthy, degrading things coming out of his mouth is so exceedingly sexy) I can picture his face as he's holding me down and putting his fingers or his cock inside my pussy, pounding me like the slutty slave I truly am.  I get to where all I can think about is his touch, his voice, and cumming.  Please let me cum.  And even after I've cum once or twice, it's almost like I only need to more.

Last night on the phone, he and I talked about things we'd done on my visit.  And I kept going to my oh my god i have no voice minnie mouse kind of voice.  I kept getting weak in the knees and I could feel my pussy getting more and more hot and wet.  Before I put my finger between my lips I can know, inherently, that it's going to be like warm massage oil in there.  Hot, slick and ready to go.  It was no exception last night.  My clit was so swollen and sensitive, I was actually a little shocked. 

I've been touching my pussy pretty regularly for 27 (ack!) years.  I know myself inside and out and have most definitely fallen prey to the laziness and ease of mechanical toys for stimulation and fruition of these orgasms I so desperately need.  When given surprise time to play before my house was full of people last Friday (and no idea how long I had privacy), I had the most amazing five orgasms in maybe five minutes' time.  I'm the queen of the microwave play session.  It's so hot and quick.  Very satisfying.

But Master has retaught me the art of feeling so turned on I'm going to explode.  Not having control over orgasms can sometimes make me feel like I'm going to have a panic attack.  I definitely used to cum as a way to relieve stress and reward myself for things.  I have to remind myself I am HIS whore, his begging slut.  I get to cum when HE says, which is essentially for his pleasure.  I am such a selfish fucking slut.  I know this. 

The upside to sometimes feeling like I'm going to go Hindenberg and just burst into flames is it makes me so sensitive, so much MORE turned on.  I think I used to play when I wasn't even wet, just start touching myself and make it happen because I wanted to cum.  I haven't touched my pussy in the three and a half months with my Master and not felt it and thought it felt like it was about to explode.

Last night, with just my fingers and the words of my Master in my ear, I got off so hard from phone sex, that even that one orgasm was enough.  I actually felt sated from ONE orgasm??!!! (this is crazy in my book)  Having heard "good girl" enough with his fingers or cock deep inside me, teasing me, making me beg to cum in person, having it fresh in my memory, and then hearing him talk that like, hearing the passion in his voice, was almost hallucinogenic for me.  I could FEEL my Master on top of me, over me.  I could feel my pussy grip around his hand, begging as he fucked me so hard to please let me cum.  Please.  He seems to know my breaking point because thankfully he's never crossed it (and I've never had to go Pulp Fiction and buy a gun from the sheer frustration of needing an orgasm). 

And then he lets me cum.  I cum for him.  I'm his good girl for being so obedient and so wanton and dirty.  I cum so hard, so deep in my pussy, that it sets everything right in my world.  Philosophically speaking, this is my utopia.