Month: October 2016

The Unexpected Surprise

Our date was amazing. It was the best date I’d ever been on. We clicked immediately. The energy between us was powerful. The conversation was nonstop. We had so much common ground. When you kissed me goodnight, I felt shivers through my entire body. I could feel your lips on mine for two hours after the date. Every time I thought about you for days afterward, I got a huge smile on my face. You were exactly what I was looking for.

Except.

Except that you have a common-law wife in another state. You just moved here three months ago, and she’s still in the previous state. When we talked about baggage we would be bringing to the relationship, you neglected to mention her. You very honestly discussed the issues about your former marriage which ended in 2009. You didn’t mention that you’ve been together with this other woman since 2009, too. I can’t help but wonder if she played into your divorce, too.

When we planned for our second and third dates, which were going to include sex, you still didn’t bring her up. It was only because I finally figured out what your Fetlife username was (since you’d failed to give it to me when I asked after you’d asked for mine) that I discovered your “little” secret. I found on your Fetlife profile that you are in a loving but sexless long-term relationship. Then I went to your Facebook profile and found it plain as day that you are in a domestic partnership with another woman. When I clicked on the link to her profile, I found a picture of the two of you kissing as her main picture. You’d been back to the old state to visit her just a couple of weeks ago. Your Facebook status shows where you went out and whom the two of you went with during that visit.

When I confronted you, hoping for some kind of rational explanation, you went silent. You didn’t even have the balls to tell me you were sorry for misleading me. You didn’t acknowledge my texts or emails.

I still can’t believe you thought I would be stupid enough not to find out. I can’t believe that you decided to ignore the “monogamous” in my dating profile. I can’t believe you don’t see her as part of your baggage that you’d be bringing into our relationship.

Most of all, I can’t stand the feeling of being The Other Woman. I never would have put myself in that role with knowledge of the situation. I am truly disturbed that I kissed another woman’s husband. I am so upset that you would be so cruel as to put me in this position. It’s a horrible place to be. I hope you never do this to another woman, but somehow I suspect I wasn’t the first and I won’t be the last.

Yes, I did let her know about the date. And the kiss. And the multiple other women you talk about having sex with on your blog. Open relationships are only open relationships if everyone involved knows they are involved in one. She deserves to know as much as I did.

©2016 WoodLeatherLace.com

Why WoodLeatherLace?

I picked the website name woodleatherlace because wood, leather and lace are three of my favorite materials to mix into sexual play.

Wood— There’s the obvious nickname for the male erection, but wood also refers to numerous spanking implements. Hairbrushes, wooden spoons, and paddles are all fun to add into the mix.

Leather—Both on him and me, I love leather (or fake leather) clothing. My black leather boots are among my favorites. So many great spanking and sex toys are also made out of leather or synthetic imitations: paddles, straps, tawses, crops, whips, binders, gags, cuffs… the list can keep going. One Dom I dated wore a thick leather cuff bracelet, a sign to those in the know about his sexuality. It was very attractive and masculine from my viewpoint.

Lace—The ultimate in feminine apparel in my opinion. I never feel as sexy and appealing as when I am wearing lace. Most men seem to appreciate it its alluring charms, too. Lace and leather together can make a visually beautiful combination as well when done properly.

©2016 WoodLeatherLace.com

Faking an Orgasm

When I’m asked if I’ve ever faked an orgasm, I don’t know how to answer. Yes but no? No but yes? It’s one of those questions that can’t be answered simply.

I have never faked an orgasm to convince my partner that I had cum when I actually had not. I’m not that kind of person. I’m very genuine and very straightforward. If it doesn’t happen, it doesn’t happen, and that’s ok. It will happen eventually. I also don’t coddle male egos. If they want to make me cum, they have to learn how to do it. I definitely don’t want them repeating something that doesn’t work for me under the delusional idea that it creates great results!

However, on one particular occasion, I had cum. My partner had not, though, and was having difficulty reaching orgasm via vaginal sex. Desperate to reach his climax, he asked for me to start faking it for him. Having watched the infamous When Harry Met Sally restaurant scene multiple times like almost every other woman my age, I didn’t think it would be much of a challenge. So I set to work, doing my best moaning and orgasm impressions.

Much to my surprise, midway through my inaugural acting performance, I was caught off-guard as an unexpected change happened in my body. I was no longer acting, but instead, I was rapidly approaching a real orgasm! I had wanted to get my partner to orgasm, not to have another myself, but I had gotten so into faking the orgasm that I had turned myself on, too. If this was the reward for helping him out, I certainly was not going to fight the results!

I soon had my unexpected orgasm, and I was quite satisfied with the outcome. I later asked my partner if he had been able to tell when my moaning switched from fake to real; he said he wasn’t certain but he was fairly sure he had been able to detect the shift. The fact that he wasn’t 100% certain boosted my confidence in my orgasm faking skills. I must have been doing a relatively realistic portrayal!

So have I ever faked an orgasm? Yes, but it was an acting request from my partner. No, it wasn’t an attempt at deceit as most faking is. Yes, it was a lot of fun!

Oh, and yes, he did cum, too. 🙂

©2016 WoodLeatherLace.com

Consent is So Sexy, Y’all

(Throughout this blog post, I am writing from the point of a heterosexual ciswoman who has only had sexual relationships with heterosexual cismen. This is in no way meant to demean the reality of physical and sexual violence between other sexes and genders. I am writing from the perspective I know and have experienced personally.)

Like the majority of people in our nation, I have experienced both physical and sexual abuse. Abuse is an unfortunate reality of our world, one that is slow to change. However, if one looks at how relationships have changed over many centuries, we are making progress. It’s no longer legal for a husband to beat his wife with a stick no larger than his thumb in the US or England. However, the improvements in what is acceptable in our relationships has not happened fast enough to spare many of us a great deal of pain in this life.

Our media, especially social media, is beginning to put a great deal of attention on problems of our rape culture: We teach women that they should not encourage rape rather than teaching men that they should not commit rape. When accusing an alleged perpetrator of rape, most women have to prove that they were not “asking for it” by being drunk or dressing in a manner that might tantalize a horny man. The idea that a woman has a right to her body and that a man does not automatically have a right to her body whether or not she has explicitly said no is foreign in many of our courts. While the refrain “no means no” is being widely taught, too many men on one popular dating site still erroneously believe that this phrase is only applicable, “Mostly. Occasionally it’s a yes in disguise.”

Facing this reality, most of those who have dealt with assault and abuse during their lives end up having trust issues. They know that it’s all too possible that their next partner might be equally disrespectful of their bodies. I fall into that group: I am usually very slow to trust those who might have the power to hurt my body. I’ve been abused too many times to pretend that possibility is not always out there.

When I began a relationship with one of my sexual partners, he knew I had a history of sexual and physical abuse. I was very clear to him that we needed to take things slower than he might prefer, and I specified to him what that meant in detail for me. I gave him exact examples of what I needed him to do and not do in order for me to feel safe. He was accepting of those requirements and appreciated the advice on how to make things more comfortable for me.

At one point during our first sexual encounter, I began having breathing problems which I had never experienced during sex before. When I finally managed to scream “stop,” he immediately responded by stopping and inquiring with great concern what was wrong even though it wasn’t a time when most people would want to stop the activities at hand. In that moment, my protective walls began falling as I knew he would always listen to me when I needed him to. (It turned out that I had developed a latex allergy since my previous partner… not a fun way to figure that out!)

My partner not only respected those boundaries, but he raised the bar even higher than I dreamed possible. At a certain point in the evening, he proposed a particular activity that he wanted to engage in. I responded to him, “Yes, I want to do that, too.” He stopped, looked me in the eyes, and said, “No. I need you to say it all completely.” He wanted me to tell him explicitly, “Yes, I want to do activity XYZ, too” so that he knew he had full consent from me. My partner wanted no confusion in the communication between us.

Until that moment, I never realized how sexy consent could be. Perhaps it was because I had never before been treated with that level of respect in regards to my body. Maybe it was because he was making me vocalize what I wanted him to do to me. Regardless, it was an unbelievably powerful move on his part. If you are partnering with someone who has been abused and has trust issues: Don’t be afraid of asking your partner to give you explicit verbal consent. While it might sound like it would put a boring damper on the evening or slow down events, for a person who has been abused, giving that consent can help them develop trust and respect for you that you won’t gain in other ways.

As a result of this man requiring me to give him explicit consent, either verbally or in writing, for anything that we did, my trust in him grew at an astronomical rate. I knew he wouldn’t ever do something I hadn’t agreed to. I always felt safe that he would stop if I changed my mind for any reason at all. I didn’t realize how quickly I could learn to trust someone when I knew that he respected my boundaries and my body. By the time I had been with this man for seven weeks, he had earned far more trust from me than my partner of more than a decade had ever attained. My new partner had made consent into something that was unbelievably healing. He reaped the benefits of earning my trust, too. That small bit of effort on his part changed things between us in an incredibly positive way.

Consent is so sexy, y’all. I highly recommend it.

© 2016 Woodleatherlace.com

Attracting an Intelligent Woman

 

Hey guys:

If you’re looking to woo an intelligent woman into your bed, there’s many things you can do to improve your prospects on sex-based dating sites.

  1. Don’t start your messages with any of the following demeaning terms: Lil Lady, Babe, Sexy, Honey, Beautiful, Sweetie, Love… and so many more. Terms of endearment are wonderful once you’re in a relationship with someone, but before you’re in relationship, terms like this reduce a woman to a generic object. Most of us don’t find it attractive. We’re also not “girls.” We’re women. You wouldn’t want to be called “hey boy,” so don’t demean us by disrespecting our age and maturity.
  1. Get rid of the dick pics as your profile shot. The majority of women can’t cum from vaginal penetration, so your dick is not the primary interest with regards to sex. Dicks are a tremendous amount of fun, but so are hands, tongues, toys, and a whole lot of other body parts. Your brain is your sexiest organ, though it’s hard to show pictures of it. Many men have creative but anonymous photos up that are so much more interesting than yet another generic dick pic, and they’re the ones who are memorable and likely to get a response.
  1. Put something on your profile. Yes, you need to be anonymous, but still, there are millions of men in the nation who like to watch football, follow the stock market, eat tacos, or bowl. If you mention those, you won’t be giving yourself away. Say something about yourself if you want us to have some interest in you. There are far more many men on sex-based dating sites than women, and if you want to stand out, you need to be more than just a dick pic looking for NSA.
  1. Read our profiles! If I have “monogamous” in my profile, that means I’m not going to be interested in you if you’re already married. Show me that you’ve actually read my profile by discussing something about it in your first message to me.
  1. Most importantly, treat us with respect. The guys whom I respond to send messages that indicate that they are interested in me as a whole package, not just because I could be a good fuck. There’s far more to me than my sexuality, and I want a man who can see that. Most women do.

©2016 WoodLeatherLace.com

That Issue of Size and Guys

We’ve all heard the phrase, “Size Doesn’t Matter.” Yet most men don’t seem to believe it. The fact that the question even gets asked on the profile information on sex-based dating sites is an indicator of how many people falsely believe penis size is important to quality of sex. It’s not.

I can’t describe how refreshing it is to see a guy actually say his cock is average size and average girth on his dating profile. Not all men are long and thick! What’s even more interesting is when a guy claims to be long and thick but the pictures he posts don’t match up to what he’s saying. I get that guys don’t check out each other’s dicks in real life most of the time, but you’d think guys would have some perspective from watching porn (though that’s definitely not the average guy most of the time either).

The best lover I have ever had was also the shortest in terms of cock length. He was an average height and weight guy– 5’10” and around 200 pounds, most of it muscle. His cock was average girth but shorter than most of the other guys I’ve been with. And you know what? It was the best of the bunch. No lying. When the topic came up between him and me, I told him honestly that he was shorter, but he was better. I told him that the size was irrelevant because he knew so much better than most men what to do with what he had. He said he’d heard that one before, but he remained unconvinced.

There’s one major advantage to a shorter cock: It’s less likely to trigger gagging during fellatio. I also could get a lot more of him in my mouth than I could with other guys before that not-so-lovely reflex kicked in. That seems to be a big (no pun intended) bonus for both of us in my mind.

Good things can come in small packages, guys. Be proud of what you’ve got, and learn how to use it to best please your lovers. If a woman rejects you for being “too small,” she doesn’t know yet what it takes to create an amazing lover.

©2016 WoodLeatherLace.com

Our First Time

“I’d like to kiss you now,” he said, catching me off guard. I hadn’t expected to hear those words from him, yet I was ready, too. I slid across the couch and into his lap, putting my arms around his shoulders. His lips were very quickly on mine; his tongue filled my mouth far faster than I had expected. Within seconds, his hands wandered upward from my waist, and one of them grabbed onto my left breast, firmly caressing it. Clearly he was sexually attracted to me, something I hadn’t expected. Not like this anyway. As our kissing intensified, I felt myself pushing my body closer to his, wanting to feel him pressed against me.

“Perhaps we could move this to my bedroom,” I suggested after a few minutes. My king-sized bed had always been more comfortable than the old lumpy couch. He quite readily agreed to my idea. As we went up the stairs, I held his hand in mine, walking a few steps ahead of him and leading the way. When we reached our destination, he closed the door behind us, locking it for good measure. We were alone in the house, but he wanted to make sure our evening together was uninterrupted. It felt certain and safe, locking us in the room together.

We stared at each other nervously, both wanting the same things yet scared to admit we were unexpectedly here. His deep brown eyes bore into mine, showing nothing but sensual desire. He wanted me in a way I so desperately needed to be wanted. We moved to light candles in the room, and then I extinguished the overhead light. As our eyes adjusted, the ambiance of the room felt right. Subtle, romantic, yearning.

Our bodies came back together again, his arms pulling me close and his lips kissing me passionately again. My hands rose up to his soft brown beard, well-trimmed and super erotic for me. I gently ran my fingers over it while his lips continued to explore mine. My hands slid back behind his ears, running through his thick curly tangles. He pulled me even closer still, kissing me harder and taking my breath away.

As our kiss melted away, our eyes opened and gazed at each other. “I can’t believe this is really happening,” I said to him. “It is,” he replied, sliding one hand down from my waist to my ass. He gave it a sharp slap and said, “Now get into bed for me.” I complied willingly, not wanting or needing to question his orders.

I leaned back on the pillows while still propping myself up on my elbow so I could watch him begin to undress. He pulled his t-shirt over his head, leaving his chest bare for me to gaze at. He had a few gray hairs peering through the dark mass of curls on his chest, betraying his age in a way that his body did not. He was an athlete, and that was clear by his body which looked at least ten years younger than his birth certificate said he was. I was definitely enjoying the show he was unintentionally putting on for me.

Next he put the delicate contents of his pockets on my nightstand, unbuckled his belt, and let his jeans slip to the floor. A smile spread across my face as I stared at the very prominent erection underneath his navy boxer briefs. He looked up to see me smiling, and he smiled back, knowing exactly what that look was about. Climbing into the bed, I felt his warm body push me back onto the pillows, his arms surrounding me and his lips once again parting mine, his tongue frantically searching for mine. We needed each other. We needed this.

Slowly his lips began meandering away from mine, moving toward my right ear. In due time, I felt his teeth gently nibbling on my ear lobe as I let out a breathy and subtle moan. He chuckled and whispered in my ear, “You like that, do you?” as he continued with more of the same. Suddenly I squealed and squirmed as his mouth found that particular ticklish spot that always set me off. He pulled me closer as he continued to tickle me with great delight.

Suddenly I felt myself being pulled up into a sitting position with him straddling my legs and looking me in the eyes again. “You don’t need that shirt anymore,” he said, and I had to agree. Having pulled the blouse over my head, his gaze fell down on my breasts, contained in a pink lace bra. I could tell he was holding his breath for a moment, totally taken in by what was waiting in front of him for his touch. Then he reached down, freeing one breast from captivity and lowering his mouth to greet it. His tongue flicked around my nipple, and his mouth widened, taking in as much of my voluptuous breast as he could. Both of his hands were on the breasts nearest to them, one supporting his oral action and the other exploring the breast still contained behind its lace prison. He stopped to look up at me, took a deep breath, and then moved his right hand behind my back, attempting to free the bra hooks in a one-handed maneuver. As he failed miserably, I laughed, realizing that some men at midlife still hadn’t mastered bra hooks any better than most teenage boys. He teased me back for laughing at him, telling me I would pay for laughing at his struggles, but that only made me laugh more.

He finally surrendered to necessity, moving around behind me and removing my bra with great ease once he could see what he was doing. His hands pulled my long hair to one side and over my shoulder, leaving my neck vulnerable to his attention. He began kissing my neck while his hands once again wandered to my breasts, sending shivers of pleasure through my body when combined with the erotic touches of his lips on my highly sensitive neck.

Having reached as far as he easily could kiss, my lover once again returned to my front side, pulling me up to a kneeling position in front of him. The heat from our bodies radiated towards each other; our nerves were gone by this point as passion and desire had fully taken over. We inched towards each other, him pulling on my ass to get me as close as possible to his straining erection. As our kissing intensified again, we fell back on the pillows, lying side by side.

While his kisses had me distracted, he subtly slipped his hand up under my flouncy short skirt. Before I knew what he was doing, I felt his hand on my pussy, gently rubbing against the pink satin and lace panties I was wearing to match the bra that was now tossed on the floor. I looked into his eyes and happily put my hands on his beard again. I liked how this was proceeding. His tongue continued to explore my mouth while his hand rubbed intentionally, attempting to involve my clit in our actions.

Without warning it hit me: an unexpected orgasm. It wasn’t earth-shattering, but there was no denying the wave of pleasure that spiked through my body. Never before had I cum from a man’s touch before he had even removed my panties. This man, though, he had great skill. He knew what he was doing with a woman’s body. As I quickly recovered from the minor earthquake, I began wondering how much more he was going to be able to do to my body as the night proceeded.

My lover decided that the first orgasm was reason enough for me to part with the rest of my clothing. Still a bit stunned from the orgasm, I kneeled for him to pull down my skirt and then my panties. I laid back down on the bed, completely naked except those last pieces of clothing I was pushing off my legs with my feet. He gazed with appreciation at the sexual feast in front of him. The only remaining piece of clothing was his boxer briefs, and so he stood next to the bed to slide them off. A huge smile once again crossed my face as an embarrassed blush covered his. “You like it?” he asked. “Very much,” I replied, and as he scooted back to the center of the bed, I moved to meet him, my mouth encircling his hard cock as I greeted it for the first time. He moaned with pleasure, running his hands into my hair and pulling my head close to his pelvis. He wanted me sucking his cock as much as I wanted to be doing it. Both of us were finding intense pleasure in our newest activity.

When he couldn’t handle my tongue’s caresses any more, he leaned me back on the bed, kissing me with more fervor than I’d experienced from him previously. Both of us were beyond horny, wanting to experience anything and everything each of us could give the other. “Where’s your vibrator?” he unexpectedly asked. “In the top drawer of the nightstand,” I replied. “Why?” He got an evil grin on his face and stated, “Because I am going to use it on you now.” How could I argue with that?

Having found my fully charged Magic Wand, a toy he’d never had the joy of playing with before, my lover experimented with the various settings while sitting next to me. Having figured out how it worked, he commanded me, “Spread your legs for me.” I obeyed willingly. He leaned over, pushing the vibrating head against my clit. It only took a few seconds before I exploded into orgasm, moaning with pleasure. When I opened my eyes after my orgasm subsided, I could see the look on his face so clearly. He was turned on in a different way than I had seen previously that night. “That thing is powerful,” he said, “And you are a show off for being able to cum that easily.” I grinned and laughed. “You’ll have to punish me for that some time,” I replied, only to be greeted by his response of, “Oh, believe me, I intend to.”

Having put the vibrator on the nightstand, he lay back on the bed next to me, and I scooted my head onto his chest to cuddle and recover. We began the talk of lovers, intermixed with kisses and touches to various regions of our bodies that were still very aroused. He pulled me even closer to him, and kissing me, informed me in a very serious voice, “When we’re in bed together, I expect you to call me Master.” I hesitated. Could I do that? Could I surrender that much control to him and refer to him as my Master? I looked in his eyes and knew the answer. “Yes, Master,” I responded. “Good girl. You will be my Little One. From now on, I also want you to ask me for permission to cum. I want you to beg. I’ll be the one deciding when you cum. I’m a benevolent Master, though. I won’t make you wait too long. Just long enough for me to feel the pleasure of controlling you. And when you are cumming, I expect you to tell me, loudly and clearly. I want to hear that I have brought you to orgasm yet again.” I hadn’t predicted these demands from him, and yet every inch of my body and soul was happy to agree. This was the kind of Master I needed in my life. He added one more item to his list: “The next time we meet, I will be bringing my razor. I will be tying you up, and I will be shaving your pussy to make you mine.” I looked into his eyes, and responded with a kiss. “I would like that very much, Master.”

Having secured my submission, he was raring to go yet again. My orgasms brought him intense pleasure, and he was determined to see how many I could have tonight having discovered how orgasmic I actually was. I wasn’t going to stop his quest. “Flip over,” he said. I looked at him inquisitively. “Do it,” he ordered. I knew this was what I has signed up for, and so I rolled onto my stomach, not quite sure what to expect from him. “The condom is on my nightstand,” I informed him. “We don’t need it yet,” he retorted. I began to wonder earnestly what he was up to, but I didn’t have to wait long to find out. I felt several fingers inserting into my vagina coupled with a moaning statement whispered in my ear, “My God, you are so fucking wet.” “You did that to me, Master,” was my response along with a moan of my own. I felt his fingers rearranging; later he told me that he had his thumb on my g-spot and his fingers on the outside of my pussy, rubbing my clit.

What followed was one of the best orgasms of my life. I had been fingered before, and I’ve been fingered since, but no one was able to rub me in the way he did. The vigor he used on me was intense, powerful, and overwhelming. Very quickly, my moans became amazingly loud. “Talk to me,” he commanded, but all I could respond was, “Oh, Master!” mixed in with moans that were rapidly moving toward screams. There was so much pleasure I didn’t know what to do. Never had I felt this kind of orgasm before. “Don’t you dare cum without my permission,” he warned as my moans began intensifying. Soon, I was there, hovering at the brink, ready to explode. “Master, I need to cum!” I screamed. “No!” he growled back into my ear as he continued banging me with his fingers. “But Master,” I begged, “Please let me cum!” “NO!” came the reply once again. Finally, in desperation, I implored, “Master, I need to cum now, please, let me!” Then I heard the words I fervently needed to hear, “Ok, Little One. Cum for me now. But tell me when you are cumming.” And with that, an orgasm exploded throughout my body. “I’M CUMMING!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. Who was this woman who was in my bed screaming like this? Why had I never met her before?

Where that orgasm began and where it ended remains a mystery to me. There were peaks and higher peaks, but the plateaus and valleys never arrived. I could feel my pussy squirting, hot juices running down my lover’s hands and my nether lips, and I could hear myself surreally screaming at the intensity of what I was experiencing. On and on it went, never seeming to end. Finally, with exhaustion, I pled, “Master, mercy, please. I need a break. Please give me a break.” With that, he ceased rubbing, and collapsed next to me with an unbelievable look of pleasure on his own face.

I rolled over and cuddled into his arms, unable to speak from exhaustion and overwhelm. After a few minutes, when I finally found my voice again, I asked him, “What just happened?” He grinned and said, “You are an incredibly orgasmic woman.” I laughed in response and said, “Yes, but no one else has ever made me cum like that before.” He smiled and said, “I’ve never seen a woman cum like that before, so it must be you.” “Maybe it’s us,” I suggested. Whatever it was, the energy flowing between us was powerful. We weren’t ready to stop either.

My lover looked at me, and then he reached over to the nightstand for the condom. “Put it on me,” he said. “Yes, Master,” I willingly replied. I was more than happy to comply with this request knowing full well what it meant: more pleasure for both of us via penetration. I rolled the condom down, struggling a bit to get it situated just right. He took over for me, making it comfortable, and then he pushed me down onto the bed with a passionate kiss to my lips. He moved to kneel between my legs while remaining upright, and he stuck his arms out toward me. I looked at him with confusion, and he said, “I want you to put your legs over my arms so I can fuck you in a way you’ve never been fucked before. I’m going give you a cervical orgasm, and you are going to love it.”

He was completely right. He began thrusting, pounding against me with intensity and determination. Very quickly, I was back to the brink of orgasm. “Master,” I cried, “I need to cum again.” “No,” he replied, “Not yet.” “But Master…” I begged. “I said NOT YET,” was his loud response. I focused on all the pleasure I was feeling, all the building desire, all the desperation for release. “Master, please, I need to cum so badly.” “Then cum, my Little One. Squirt all over me again.” With his permission, I felt my fluids release, and I heard myself screaming again. But then the screaming didn’t stop. It just kept going. My entire body was filled with intense, blinding pleasure, and I felt as though I had entered a totally different world. The orgasm just kept going and going as did the screaming. Wave after intense wave, thrust after pounding thrust. Somewhere in there, I felt myself squirt again. Finally, I reached the point where I just couldn’t keep going any longer. Once again I found myself begging, “Mercy, Master! I need a break from the pleasure.” And with that, my lover collapsed onto me, breathless and more turned on than he had ever been.

After we’d both had a chance to recover once again, we found ourselves looking into each other’s eyes, my fingers caressing his chest hair in a dreamy way. “You have ten minute orgasms,” he noted. I burst into laughter. “I don’t think they’re actually ten minutes long,” I said. He ran his hands through my hair and replied, “No, probably not. But they are incredibly long and absolutely amazing to partake in.”

A few more minutes of pillow talk passed, and I told him, “You still haven’t cum yet.” He replied, “Even if I don’t cum tonight, I will be completely happy. The amount of pleasure your orgasms have given me is more than you can know.” “I’m glad that’s true,” I said, “But I’d still like to get you to cum.” “Oh, so would I,” he responded, and with that, he flipped me over onto my stomach once again. He grabbed the lube with one hand while reinvigorating his erection with his other hand. He popped open the top, and squirted some of the very cold lube onto my asshole as well as onto his now hardened cock. This time, I knew what was about to happen.

I reached my fingers underneath me, putting them on my clit, ready to help my lover bring me to further pleasure. I felt his cock, slowly sliding into my ass as he exhaled a huge breath and moaned. “Dear God, that feels unbelievable,” he blurted out. I felt his body lowering against me, and then, when he was ready, slowly beginning to thrust in and out of me. Intense pleasure began arising in me that matched his. I applied counterpressure on my clit, stirring me to the edge of orgasm once again. It didn’t take him long either. The hours of sex we had been having had done their job in getting him to a point of no return. As he forcefully came in my ass, I lost control again, too, joining him in one final (albeit minor) orgasm for the evening. He collapsed on me, exhausted and pleasured.

After we took a few moments, he shifted off of me, and we found ourselves cuddling for the last time that night. “Wow” was all I could say to him. A huge grin crossed his face, too. “Yeah, that was pretty impressive,” he responded. “And that was our first time,” I noted. “Imagine what things are going to be like with more practice.” “I can’t wait to find out,” my lover replied, pulling me close in his arms and closing his eyes.

©2016 WoodLeatherLace.com