Random Memories

One Year

Yesterday was one year since we met in person for the first time. Tomorrow is one year since we first had sex. I am certain you don’t remember the dates; you’re not that kind of guy.

Ours was meant to be a casual relationship. It was supposed to be about sex and not much else. That quickly changed. By the third sex date, I had told you that I really liked you, and you nodded back yes, holding back tears, so choked up you couldn’t speak. By the fourth date, you accidentally called me by the nickname you used for your ex-wife.

You weren’t what I expected. You were physically beautiful. Your face was so sexy, and your body was well-sculpted. Your strong hands on my supple body felt so amazing. I couldn’t figure out why a man who looked like you would be willing to have sex with me, though it quickly became clear that you had mental health challenges, ones that impacted your life severely.

Yet underneath those mental health issues was one of the most sensitive, loving men I’ve ever met. You are tender and caring. You feel so deeply but you don’t want to, so you repress it all. You run from your feelings if they aren’t what your logic tells you that you “should” be feeling.

Even though the sex we had was amazing, you couldn’t look past your fantasies to see me for the dynamic woman that I am. You had a picture in your mind of what your future wife looks like, and that description didn’t line up with me. Hence, you couldn’t let yourself enjoy our relationship for what it was, and you couldn’t appreciate me for whom I am. Instead, you kept insisting on searching frantically for this unicorn you think exists, this perfect woman in mind and body who is going to accept you as you are, flaws and all.

Since I wasn’t perfect and I wasn’t your fantasy, you decided I was good for sex and nothing else. Despite that, you kept trying to change me. Even though I was ok with your issues, you weren’t ok with mine. You created an impossible situation in your mind, one that isn’t even scientifically realistic, and you wanted me to enact it so that I could change to become the woman of your dreams. You couldn’t let it go. You obsessed over this idea of what I should do with my body and my life. I know part of that was your mental illness; your obsession with that idea was rooted in your inability to focus on a broader picture. Still, part of it was you, too, judging me for not doing what you wanted me to do and for not being whom you wanted me to be.

When I couldn’t live with the judgment anymore, I ended it. I cried a lot of tears over you. I had fallen in love with you in the short time we were together. You got mad at me when I told you that I loved you. I told you that you didn’t have to feel it, but you couldn’t stop me from feeling it. That’s not how it works. I loved you. I still do. It wasn’t just the sex. It was the amazing man who lives trapped under a terrible mental illness that he can’t control.

And the sex…. No man before or since has made me cum the way you did. Our sex was beyond amazing. You are going to be the lover whom I compare all others to. You are the one who taught me what my body can do when it’s treated properly. You taught me that sex is the most amazing experience in the world when the right two people are partnered.

I gave you this blog link after we broke up, though I’m not sure if you got the message or if you read it. Even if you did, I’m not sure if you read this blog. But if you read this post, know that I still love you deeply and I always will. You will always hold the place in my heart as the lover who taught me what sex should be like if the chemistry is there. You are the man who showed me what tenderness, respect, and love can combine to be in a D/s relationship. I miss you touching me, kissing me, making me cum over and over again. The memories of what we shared will never leave, and I’m grateful for that because they are some of the most treasured ones I will ever have. While we would never be able to sustain a long-term relationship together and I know that, I will still love you.

Please take care of yourself. I hope you are happy. I hope you are in love. I hope that your world has improved. I often look for you in places where I think I might see you even though I know that I will probably never run into you again. Still, my heart still longs for you.

©2017 WoodLeatherLace.com

I Wanted Dessert

When the friendship request showed up in my Fetlife inbox, I didn’t recognize the avatar, so I clicked through to see whom it was. When I landed on his page, my first thought was, “YUM!” That’s not my typical response to most men’s pictures, but for some reason, this man really did it for me. His profile indicated he was single, and reading over his fetishes, he looked like he would probably be a good match for me in many ways. However, that nagging doubt in me didn’t think a man who was that good looking could possibly be interested in me. Still…. I clicked accept, and then I wrote him a note thanking him for friending me. I hoped that was enough to let him know I would be interested in talking more with him. If not, there wouldn’t be too much egg on my face. I hit send, and I waited.

And waited. And waited. Finally, five days later when I had already given up hope, he responded, asking to chat and see where things might go between us. I was thrilled to my core. This super-hot guy wanted to see if we might have enough chemistry to play and have sex! We spent way too much time chatting that first night, and after a few hours, we both knew we wanted to meet up. We switched to texting, and we planned our first date for two nights later. Included in our discussions were those sometimes initially awkward topics of condoms, hard limits, pubic hair styles and such. Both of us clearly were hoping that the date would go well and would lead to kinky sex.

The night of the date finally arrived. We had picked a restaurant halfway between our homes. Both of us were late thanks to a traffic mess, but I got there first and was seated at the table that was still waiting for us. Not long after, he walked in the door. When I saw him in person, my first thought was, “Ok, we can leave now and go back to my place. I want to fuck him.” He was just that desirable to me.

As he approached the table, I had to keep from throwing myself at him. I did, however, decide a hug would be appropriate. I think I surprised him with that move, but he returned the hug willingly. We sat at the table in chairs adjacent to each other. While I’d been fairly calm until this point, my nerves suddenly kicked in. Sitting in such close proximity to him was turning me on. I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to get through a meal when I was next to this gorgeous man whom I just wanted to fuck.

Conversation flowed easily between us, just as it had when we were messaging and texting. We had plenty to talk about. He kept slipping his hand under the table to put it on my knee, but since it was our first date, he behaved himself beyond that. When we finally finished our meal, he asked me if I wanted dessert. I responded to him, “Nothing that they have on the menu here.” His eyes lit up since he knew exactly what I had in mind for dessert, and he was more than willing to partake in the same.

Knowing implicitly he had my consent, he got up, pulled me gently to a standing position and kissed me ever so carefully on the lips. A shiver went through my entire body, and I began shaking. I wanted this man more than anything I could imagine in that moment. The pheromones he was giving off were just overwhelming. We couldn’t get out of the restaurant fast enough.

Once outside, we found that the sun had set and a cool breeze had started blowing. He put his arm around my shoulder as we walked toward my car. While he thought he was doing something romantic, which it was, I was incredibly grateful for his body warmth as well! Finally arriving at my car which was parked at the far end of the lot, we turned to face each other. Now that we were no longer surrounded by so many others, we felt free to show each other how we were actually feeling. His tongue parted my lips and mine greeted him in response. We exchanged kiss after kiss, enjoying the foreplay that had begun between us. I let him know in between kisses that I had shaved my pussy for him, something which aroused him further. We pulled our bodies closer to each other as the intensity of our desire turned up yet another notch. His fingers traced along the revealing cleavage line of my blouse, and then he let his hand wander onto my breasts. After several minutes of this, I knew we had to stop because I was about ready to ask him to get in the back of my minivan with me. I wanted him, and I wanted him then and there.

Finally agreeing to take the rest of the evening back to my place, I told him I would text him my address while he went to his car so that we didn’t have to worry about getting separated on the way there. With a final kiss, he put me in the driver’s seat of my car and closed the door. I pulled out my phone, but my hands were shaking so much from arousal that I initially texted him the wrong address. After correcting my typo, I took a moment to breathe deeply and refocus. I had to get myself home safely. The night was only beginning.

I beat him back to my house, and I took advantage of the few minutes I had to freshen up. Soon he arrived. He was barely in the front door before I had thrown myself in his arms again, desperately craving more of the amazing kisses which I had unwillingly ended in the parking lot. There were no protests on his part. He dropped his toy bag and grabbed onto my body, pulling me close and kissing me fervently. His hands roamed up into my hair, and our kisses became even more passionate than before.

“Perhaps we should move this to your room,” he suggested after a few minutes of our intense greetings. I thought that was an excellent idea. I turned off the porch light, locked the door, and led him to my room which I had prepared before leaving. My toy box was sitting near the bed. Lube and condoms were on both nightstands, just for convenience. Water bottles were on both nightstands, too, since I was planning on working up a sweat with him.

The rest of the night was a blur. Time seemed irrelevant. We were the only two people in the world at that point. The only thing that mattered was our desire and bringing each other as much pleasure as possible. I was anxious at first, and I let him know that. I told him that my lack of experience was making me nervous. I told him exactly how few partners I had prior to him, and he let me know that was ok. I believed him. I knew I could trust him to make sure I was safe tonight as we began exploring each other’s bodies and desires. I was certain he was going to be a gentle Dom, but one who also would have no hesitation to spank me as hard as I needed and wanted.

Our clothes came off very quickly. We had no need for them. They were only getting in our way. What we both wanted, desperately, was to touch each other’s naked skin, to feel the heat of our bodies pressed together, to hear to the other’s moans of pleasure. Our mouths wandered around each other’s bodies, finding various places to nibble and suck. Earlobes. Throats. Shoulders. Fingers. Breasts. Nipples. Bellies. Thighs. His cock. My clit. His balls. My vulva. As our mouths wandered freely, so did our hands, touching every part of each other that they could find.

Having made a sufficient initial exploration of each other’s bodies, he laid down on the bed, his head just below the pillows. “Sixty-nine me,” he commanded. I willingly obeyed. I straddled my pussy over his face and took my mouth down toward his cock. As I pulled his member into my mouth, I felt his lips beginning to explore my pussy. As I went deeper, so did he. As his tongue hit my clit for the first time, I let out a gasp which made me drop his cock from my mouth. He responded with a slap to my ass and the words, “Don’t stop.” Regaining my focus, I moved onto his balls, pulling them gently into my mouth one at a time. He continued his lingual probing as well. What he was doing to me was very distracting, and I was having a hard time concentrating on my job!

When he could tell I wasn’t capable of continuing both cunnilingus and fellatio at the same time, he instructed me to let him up. I did, feeling him grabbing onto my ass as he sat up. While staying on all fours, I moved forward a bit on the bed to give him more room to access all of my delicate parts which were beyond craving for an orgasm at this point.

What he did next surprised me utterly, though. I suddenly felt his tongue delicately rimming my asshole, causing an intense pleasure I had never experienced before. “Ooooohhhhh!” came the combination of a moan and squeal from my lips as I was overwhelmed with excitement and surprise by this new activity. He let out a laugh, and asked, “Does that feel good, babygirl?”

When I responded yes to his question, I was greeted with a finger being shoved into my pussy to lubricate it, and then he quickly shoved that same finger into my ass causing me to emit another scream of surprise and pleasure. He already knew I had an anal fixation, and he knew that I was more than happy to accept his probing of any orifice he chose with almost any instrument he selected. As his one hand was busy with fucking my ass, the other found my clit and my g-spot. Yet another scream came from me as his hands began to work magic on all my sensitive nether regions. It didn’t take long before his touch brought me to my first orgasm of the night, an intense release that was so very needed.

After having brought me to the ultimate pleasure, my new lover was ready to enjoy his share of the receiving, too. He released my body, and he instructed me to flip onto my back so that he could enter me missionary style. He quickly grabbed a condom off the nightstand, ripping it open and slipping it on. I was thrilled to be in a position that would let me see the looks of pleasure on his face as we fucked. As I quickly dropped onto the bed and spread my legs around him, he leaned forward and kissed me, hard, in order to firm up his erection a bit more. As our tongues were touching, he began leaning his body all the way down. His cock easily slipped into my well-lubricated pussy which was drenched from all the foreplay. I wrapped my legs around his, and he began to slowly thrust inside me.

Nothing is quite like having a lover’s cock inside of me after a sexual drought: seeing his face, hearing his groans of pleasure, feeling the slapping of his balls against my pussy. My hands ran through his gorgeous graying hair, and my eyes focused on the intense expressions of pleasure on his face. I wrapped my legs closer around his body, asking him—no begging him—to cum for me. He happily obliged. He let out a moan that sent shivers through me as his pleasure became mine.

Collapsing with exhaustion next to me, my lover and I exchanged grateful looks at each other. He pulled me close to him, allowing us to cuddle up and share that intimate time after our orgasms. We began talking again, and no longer overwhelmed with that tension of desperate desire, we began truly enjoying each other’s company. Periodically we exchanged kisses, keeping the sexual mood of the evening going even while we were saving up energy for the next round. Our hands never stopped touching each other’s bodies, constantly finding new places to caress and arouse.

Eventually the talking and kissing and cuddling led to desire for more intense activities again. He had promised me that he would be spanking, licking and fucking me our first time together, and having done two of those three, he set out to do the third. I was ordered to get on my hands and knees in front of him, and soon his hand found the rhythm of spanking my ass that would make me squirm. However, he had promised me a good, hard spanking, one that would turn my ass red, and to get closer to that goal, he grabbed a mini-flogger from his bag. Though he hadn’t had much practice with it, my lover soon elicited squeals of pain and pleasure as he repeatedly flogged my ass. He was a natural at using it on me, creating a burn that stung yet felt incredibly good. Eventually deciding that he had used that implement enough on me, he tossed it aside and then pulled a small leather paddle from his bag. Taking careful aim, he let loose a loud smack on my ass that made me question why I had been begging him for a spanking. As his free hand found its way to my dripping wet pussy, I remembered why. He began to rub my g-spot with one hand, alternating his movements with the occasional smack on my ass with the paddle in the other hand. My screams and moans became thoroughly mixed together. Finally, the pleasure overtook the pain, and I let go into an amazing orgasm.

Once I recovered from the intense pleasure my lover had given me, I turned to him and smiled. He was still naked in my bed, and his raging hard-on told me that he wanted more release, too. As I began sucking on his cock, he let me know that seeing a woman’s eyes looking up at him while she licked the head of his cock was one of the most arousing things for him. With that bit of intimate information, I began making sure that I could see his eyes as often as possible while my tongue was circling the head of his cock. Over and over again I went down on his cock, occasionally going all the way down to his balls and letting them have their fair share of time in my mouth as well. I even went all the way down his taint, licking carefully, and finding his asshole which loved my tongue just as much as his cock did. I had never rimmed a man before, but I found it to be a sensation unlike any other, one that was as enjoyable for me as it was for him.

Having pushed my lover to his breaking point, he pressed me down on my back again while I willingly complied so that he could have his way with me. Another condom was obtained and put on his rock-hard cock which then quickly found its way into my pussy. Once again our bodies found that unique rhythm, that pounding action, that horny fucking which makes us all into wild animals. We fucked each other desperately, kissing each other periodically between thrusts, whispering words of desire. Finally, he came inside me, moaning with pleasure and collapsing on top of me.

The rest of the night was truly a blur. We talked for many hours of it when we weren’t busy licking me, sucking him, spanking me and fucking each other. After the night’s festivities were finally over, I semi-rhetorically asked him if he planned to come back. He pretended to think about it: “Hmm. Let me see. Yes!?!” We cuddled closer and kissed again, both thrilled with the prospect of more hot and kinky sex between us in the days and weeks to come.

Eight hours had passed since he first walked through my door, and “dessert” was finally over. After we kissed goodbye at the front door, he headed home, and I went back up to my messy room. I collapsed into bed with a huge smile on my face. I was incredibly glad I’d accepted that friendship request!

©2017 WoodLeatherLace.com

“Wounds from Lovers Past”

Some of the lyrics from Billy Joel’s “And So It Goes” have been running through my head in the past few days.

In every heart there is a room
A sanctuary safe and strong
To heal the wounds from lovers past
Until a new one comes along

I was married for half of forever, and since my divorce, my lovers have been helping me to heal so much of the sexual damage that happened in my relationship with my ex-husband. Yet at the same time, my lovers create new wounds for me to heal as well. Sometimes I wonder if sexual relationships aren’t just dams with leaks: You constantly shove your fingers in the holes (ahem) to stop the leaks, but new ones spurt instead.

One of the largest “holes” in my ex-marriage was cunnilingus. Despite my love of giving fellatio, my ex was not one to return the favor. Before we were married, he went down on me once and declared that he didn’t like the way I tasted. After that, he only ever performed oral when I would desperately request it every few years or so when I couldn’t hold off the cravings any longer. Finally, once we got a marriage therapist involved, my ex began to go down on me much more regularly. Yet despite that change, those painful words from more than a decade before still hurt, knowing that he didn’t like how I tasted.

After my divorce, I went through several lovers who refused to go down on me on general principle. I was beginning to suspect men claimed to love performing cunnilingus only to rope women into bed. After we were sexually active, one claimed it was “too intimate” for a man to go down on a woman but that it was nowhere near as intimate for a woman to go down on a man. Of course, I didn’t pull the “you have to give head to get head” line on them because that would have only punished me more!

Then I found a partner who truly did love giving me oral sex. He was a welcome change. It was also very healing. We had a conversation one night wherein I disclosed my ex-husband’s disgust with the way I tasted, and my lover looked at me like I was crazy. He said that of all the women in his recent memory, I tasted the best. Whether he was telling the truth or not (and I believe he was being truthful), those words were incredibly healing for me. To finally have someone make me feel like I wasn’t some kind of horrible freak in this area was so helpful in boosting my confidence about my sexuality.

Yet as is often the case, this lover of mine spent his time with me healing my issues around oral, but he created new cracks in my dam, hurting me in ways my previous partners had not. Eventually our relationship could no longer handle those cracks, and we ended things between us. As I moved on the next man, I knew it would be to heal more of the wounds from lovers past yet I also knew that the new man in my life would leave another set of wounds, too.

©2017 WoodLeatherLace.com

 

“It’s Just Sex”

Somewhere on the internet (probably in a blog post on Fetlife), I read something that said, “In the end, it’s just sex.” It was a part of an essay written by a man talking about how sex with different partners is essentially the same. Yet the more I think about the idea, the more I disagree with it. For me sex has been radically different with each partner I’ve had. While it was all sex, the sex was different physically and emotionally with each man.

As I reflect back on my partners, there’s no one partner who was the overall best. Perhaps I’m still looking for him. However, each guy I was with was better than the rest at something in particular. That includes but is not limited to being the best at:

  • Oral
  • Anal
  • Vaginal
  • Fingering
  • Kissing
  • Intimacy
  • Cuddling
  • Aftercare
  • Spanking
  • Flogging
  • Paddling
  • Hairbrushing
  • Role playing
  • Bondage
  • Being dominant
  • Being submissive
  • Switching (as in roles, not a stick off a tree)

Aside from the physical differences, the emotional relationship I had with each man was radically different. We each bring our own energies to sex, and when the two different energies combine, the results are different every time. Even on any given day, two partners who’ve had sex hundreds of times before might have a very different sex session because they are in a different emotional or spiritual place that day.

For me, there’s no such thing as “just” a one-night stand. I believe we give bit of ourselves to our sexual partners, and they give us part of themselves in return. There’s no returning those gifts once exchanged. We are forever changed because of that interaction with the other person, even if it was “only” one night and even if it was “just” a hook up. If the relationship lasts multiple nights, weeks, or even years, the exchange is even more powerful. Sex changes us. It brings us to new places and new realizations. Sex is a heck of a lot of fun when done right, but it’s also life changing.

So to me, I disagree with the idea that “in the end, it’s just sex.” Sex is one of the things that makes the world go around. It’s one of our primordial needs. It not only repopulates the species, but it brings us happiness, joy, pleasure, health, and more. No matter how many times we have sex, the next time will always be different because we are never the same person from one day to the next and neither are our partners. Sex is a vital and an ever-changing part of our relationships with others and with ourselves. That’s what makes it so special.

©2017 WoodLeatherLace.com

Again and Again

I had told him before about my weak spot: All he had to do was kiss my neck, and I would jump in bed with him. He heard me, but I don’t think he actually heard me. He would occasionally kiss my neck as we engaged in foreplay, but it wasn’t something he spent nearly enough time doing. He never quite figured out how to use it to his advantage, until that night, anyway.

We had a great evening—one of our best ever. A rousing kinky roleplay moved from one room to the next in the house. Clothes were shed along the way. Mutual oral sex was followed by more kink which lead to vaginal sex. Exhausted, we collapsed on the bed, sweaty and satisfied. Orgasms were had, release was found, and the evening’s activities were over.

Eventually we attended to our evening toiletries and made our preparations for bed. We turned off the lights and climbed into bed next to each other, him spooning me from behind with his arms wrapped around me. I always felt so safe surrounded by his arms like that. We talked quietly, starting to drift towards slumber but not quite being willing to let go of each other yet.

And then, he did it.

He kissed the back of my neck.

And then he kissed my neck again. Really kissed it.

His whiskers on my skin. His breath stimulating my pores. The warmth of his lips pressed against me. The desire he clearly felt for me. It was all more than I could resist.

Before we knew what had happened, I had rolled over and we were facing each other again. Our tongues plunged into the other’s mouths, desperately seeking what we had only so recently shared. My hands ran through his chest hair as his grabbed my ass and pulled me close to him. Though the dark surrounded us, our eyes had adjusted and our bodies knew what we desired. We wanted each other again. Clearly our previous state of being satisfied had not meant truly satiated.

As our hands greedily grabbed at each other’s bodies, I found his cock and he found my breasts. His lips lowered to suck and nibble upon one while his hands squeezed the other. Unable to just receive his touch, my hands powerfully cupped his balls. Looking in his eyes, I pulled away from his touch and lowered myself to put my lips over his hardening erection. He gasped with pleasure as my lips and tongue went up and down over his cock, again and again. Moving further downward, I sucked his balls into my mouth, and he moaned again in the deep pleasure that this action always brought him. Knowing I could take this one step further, I scooted downward still, rimming his asshole and giving him a pleasure he enjoyed so much.

All of it was too much for him to handle much longer. He pushed me on my back, grabbing a condom as he shifted himself over me. As fast as he could manage, he ripped open the foil pack, slipped the condom on his rock-hard cock, and then shoved his cock inside my very wet pussy that was waiting for him to join it again. My legs wrapped around his body, pulling him close. Slowly, the rhythm between us found its pace, his cock sliding in and out of my pussy, rubbing and thrusting, bringing intense sensation to us both.

As our intimate movements continued, his climax approached. He moaned with intense pleasure as his entire body stiffened and released. An orgasm of this caliber had eluded him earlier in the evening’s activities, but our reprise had brought its rewards. He found the sweet freedom and bliss of having released all his cum inside me.

Once he had recovered from his orgasmic high, I begged my lover to finish me off with my vibrating wand, my “jackhammer” as he so lovingly called it. He had no qualms about retrieving it and quickly pushing it up to my pussy. All of the foreplay had done what it needed to do, preparing my body to quickly reach another climax, but unlike the orgasms earlier in the evening, this one included me squirting on my lover’s hands while he listened to me scream with pleasure.

Having wracked my body with spasms of pleasure, he turned off the vibrator. As we collapsed next to each other again, a feeling of déjà vu settled in. We smiled and kissed gently, whispering in the dark. His hands caressed my hair as I lay on his chest, letting my body slowly return to the reality of this planet.

Once again, we cleaned ourselves up, and once again, we climbed back into bed. An hour had passed since our last attempt to sleep. This time, exhausted from our unexpected but powerful bonus round of sex, we both quickly drifted into the slumber of satiated lovers. After all, we needed our sleep to rest up for the next round that would follow when we woke up in the morning.

©2016 WoodLeatherLace.com

The Last Kiss

You almost never know when it’s going to be your last kiss with your partner. I didn’t expect it to end so suddenly with him. We’d had our best night ever, and then, suddenly, less than a week later, it was over.

Would I have changed things if I had known? Maybe. Maybe I would have called in sick that last day together. Maybe I would have stayed in bed with him longer that day. Maybe. But maybes are fantasies, and they won’t ever be. The reality is that it is over between us.

I will miss him. I will miss our kisses. I will miss so many other things, but I will miss him kissing me most of all. I will miss his hands on my body as his lips touched mine. I will miss his whiskers brushing up against my face. I’ll miss his tongue meeting mine. I’ll miss the smile on his face when we ended a kiss.

And now, I’ll never see that smile again. He’s gone.

©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