Monday, September 23, 2013

taboo - little's fingers

I lay on the couch in the early morning. The rest of the house in slumber. I was watching a French documentary about female masturbation. The women were mature, 30's - 50's, women not girls. A lifetime of discovery behind them. In France this subject is taboo, female masturbation. Maybe it is here too. I don't remember ever talking to a gf about cumming, orgasms at my own hand. This is something I talk about with the men in my life. They get pleasure from watching me masturbate.

I discovered masturbation and orgasm from masturbation relatively late in girlhood. I remember the day, bright and sunny. I was 19. Everything happened for me that year.

Watching these women talking about masturbation I felt my body stir. The brain...that most sensitive sexual organ began to stir and with it those feelings in my pelvis, my breasts, my nipples. That mild ache and pleasure of things moving. As it built, I toyed with the idea of experimenting. I have never come without touch. I wondered if I could bring myself to orgasm with just thought and not deed.

It was a calming and provocative listening to the fluid, sensual french tongue. The feeling of fullness ripened in my pink flesh. I was wet with excitement and knew that I could perhaps come without touch if I relaxed and gave it time. My nipples tingled and hardened. My hand slid down to my slickness and brushed my clit. It was this that was my downfall. So good was that touch that I couldn't pull my fingers away. Why should I? The sensual women were telling me that this is good and right for me. Who was I to argue?

The waves of pleasure drove through me, circling out from the rhythmic tightening of my cunt, joining in pleasure through my whole body. Muscles gripping, blood flushing to the tips of my toes and the top of my scalp. I love those waves as they move through me in a dichotomy of relaxation and frenzied way. Coming at my own hand is a different sensation than coming from His. There is a warmth and relaxation that doesn't happen when Sir pushes the buttons. His buttons breed a pure intensity that exhausts.

I lay spent but relaxed. I haven't come for what feels weeks! Actually it is weeks I think. I slid my fingers down for a second time and dripping in my own juice, came so quickly my eyes almost popped out of my head! It is not often that I have been able to come with little's fingers more than once and without the aid of a mecanical device.

A very pleased little. *coy smile*

photographer unknown

Sunday, September 22, 2013

we're all going on a sub holiday...

I'm almost ready to run away. No responsibility for anyone or anything. 5 weeks of pure bliss. Wandering the road I will make my way up to the sun. I am so excited. The camper is half packed..air in the tyres tomorrow, my bicycle on the back, my clothes packed.

Hmmm should I include my fave vibe..that magic Mr buzzy..noisy in the quiet bush at night. Certainly clamps and nipple bells and a little collar of submission are included.

Five,

5,

V,

6-1,

five glorious weeks!

photographer unknown





Sunday, September 15, 2013

holidays and wolf stories

All quiet from me here in this space.
A frenetic pace in my little world.
Trying to balance on a tight rope of all these roles in my life that I am.
Multiple people running around in my mind, inhabiting one body.
We all have those different roles though don't we?

The lightening pace is coming to an end and I will be shooting off on holiday next week.

This holiday will be quite different. Selfishly I am going by myself. Hitting the open road to travel north to sun and peace.

I am sure I will return to my adventures invigorated and ready for more.

There is a taste of his hand on the horizon.

I think I may have lost my submission, dropped it in the garden on the way to see grandma.
I'm sure the wolf will help me find it again.
He always does *coy grin*.

Artist : Arkangel - Zigma via Deviant Art