Oral Sex

The Lies of 69

I recently saw a tweet that (in my paraphrased version of it) stated, “I’m going to express an unpopular opinion: I don’t enjoy 69 because I want to be fully present when I give or receive.” When I read that, I wanted to scream, “Amen, sister!”

From the time I was a teen, tittering and gossiping with friends as we imagined what life would be like after we had lost our virginity, we somehow had picked up the idea that “69” or mutual simultaneous oral sex was the end-all, be-all of oral sex. I have no idea why this was part of the sexual mythology in our culture, but I know it was definitely true.

As with so many sexual things, the reality of 69 was far from what I expected. My first partner and I tried it at one point, and I was very much not sold on it. I couldn’t pay attention to both sucking on his cock and receiving his attentions on my clit. I disliked it so much so that I didn’t try it again until a partner after my divorce insisted we do it. Because he was a Dom, I followed his lead, and once again I discovered that I really don’t like 69. I love giving head, and I love having my clit licked. But at the same time? It all loses so much.

As a result, I don’t have 69 with a partner unless he insists, and most don’t. Most are like me in that they prefer to devote all their attention to either giving or receiving. There really is too much of a good thing at times, and 69 seems to fall in that category.

©2018 WoodLeatherLace.com

Fluid Bonding

In the kink and polyamorous communities, there is a phenomenon known as “fluid bonding” that is held in high esteem. “Fluid bonding” is when a couple chooses not use any kind of barriers during sex and allow fluids to co-mingle. This is a sign of closeness and indicates that the couple is willing to share anything, including any possible STIs they might have.

I’ve found that fluid bonding is put on a very tall pedestal in the kink community and from what I can tell in polyamorous communities as well. It’s the biggest sign that one loves one’s partner truly, deeply, and unconditionally.

Contrary to this esteemed pedestal, I’m going to give what probably is an unpopular opinion: most couples are fluid bonded. Think about it. When you French kiss a partner, you are exchanging saliva which is a bodily fluid, one that can carry bacteria and viruses including HSV1 and 2. When a man fondles a woman’s genitals, he touches her arousal fluid and sometimes licks it off of his own fingers or makes her lick it off of his fingers and then kisses her. If a couple has sex while a woman is menstruating, even if they use a condom, it’s likely he will end up with some of her menstrual blood on his hands, legs, and abdomen. Depending on how much arousal fluid she produces, a man is also likely to end up with that all over his genital region as well.

What’s more, it’s rare for partners to use protection for oral sex from what I have experienced and heard from friends’ sex stories. I have never had a dental dam used on me, and I rarely use condoms for giving fellatio. Men directly ingest arousal fluid when giving cunnilingus. Women ingest precum in giving fellatio. Not one of the men I’ve been with who have been in their forties or fifties hasn’t leaked abundant amounts of pre-cum during our foreplay. I’ve ingested far more of it than I’d like to!

However, none of my partners aside from my ex-husband would consider us fluid bonded. Why? Because they have not ejaculated inside of me without condoms on their cocks. In the kink community, what “fluid bonded” really means is a man ejaculating inside a woman’s vagina (or in some rarer cases, her anus) without using barrier protection. The term “fluid bonding” does not really mean fluid bonding. What it actually is is an unconscious glorification of penis-in-vagina sex. Unless a man dumps his load in a woman’s pussy, they aren’t truly connected, aka fluid bonded.

The problems with this mindset are abundant and ridiculous. It raises the general STI risk as people who aren’t “fluid bonded” can still share STIs. More philosophically, it continues to promote an idea that “real sex” is only sex that involves a penis being inserted inside a vagina, and that’s far from true. Most importantly, it continues to feed the cultural male ego into believing that their semen is a sacred part of sex, and women’s vaginas and relationships as a whole are incomplete without that theoretically amazing jizz. Nothing could be further from the truth.

It would be great if “fluid bonding” was called what it really is: “semen-vagina bonding.” That’s far more accurate, and it lets people know what the true situation is. Furthermore, it doesn’t downplay other relationships which are just as “bonded” but which don’t glorify semen as what makes a relationship deep and true.

©2018 WoodLeatherLace.com

Famous Last Words

Sometimes when I am having sex, despite my lover’s efforts, I know I’m just not going to cum. When I get that feeling, I’ve always let my partner know that my body is just not responding so he should do whatever would work best for him at that point. Occasionally when my partners have shifted to do something different that works better for them, I actually end up cumming with them. Several of my past partners loved to give me (not literal) shit when this happened. “I’m not going to cum” are my famous last words that often get me laughed at by partners.

However, one of my partners reacted very differently than others when hearing me pronounce these words for the first time. His head was between my legs and his tongue was caressing my clit when I told him, “I’m not going to cum, so you should do something else that works for you.” He lifted his head, gave me an unforgettable look, and said, “Oh, you’re not going to cum are you? Challenge accepted!”

With that, he dove back into my pussy with renewed vigor. He changed up what his tongue was doing, and a minute later, I was orgasming. After I finished, he cuddled next to me with an evil grin on his face. “Not going to cum, huh?” he rhetorically said to me.

“Ok, you win that one,” I replied sheepishly.

“You sounded pretty happy to let me win, too,” he retorted.

“Yes, I definitely was. You can be right like that any time you want,” I responded, kissing him with gratitude.

©2018 WoodLeatherLace.com

The Halloween Party

I had met him online last week on a dating site where his stunning smile had attracted me immediately to his picture. We had messaged for several days before deciding that there was definitely more than enough common ground between the two of us to merit a date. He suggested dinner the next Saturday; I agreed but asked if he’d like to go to a friend’s party after dinner. I let him know that the party invitation specifically stated, “Slutty Halloween costumes more than welcome.” He decided that sounded like his type of party, especially if I was going to wear a slutty outfit for him to enjoy. I told him that I very much planned to.

Saturday night arrived, and I prepared myself for a dinner at a fancy restaurant with my date. I was certainly not wearing my slutty attire to a place of this class and caliber, so I selected an elegant blue dress for the first part of the evening. Underneath, I was wearing a lacy black bra, black fishnet thigh high stockings, a black garter belt, and a pair of lacy black bikini panties. My hair was upswept in a loose bun because I knew that was what I wanted for my costume later; I also knew that it drove men crazy in anticipation of me letting my hair loose later in the evening if the date went well. I slipped on black heels on my way out the door to complete the outfit. I had called a cab to take me to the restaurant figuring that I’d either crash at my friend’s house after the party, or if I was lucky, I’d be letting my date bring me back to my house for post-party “entertainment.”

Dinner went amazingly well. We hit it off like old friends rather than like we were on a first date. The conversation flowed smoothly, and I began flirting with my date fairly early into the evening. I liked this guy a lot. He was good-looking, suave, intelligent, and a perfect gentleman. I also knew underneath all of that public presentation he was a kinky fucker, and that made him extremely attractive to me. At one point during the meal, I let my foot casually rub its way up his leg under the table across from me. The resulting smile on his face told me he was enjoying my teasing. That was a very good sign of things to come.

After he graciously paid the check, we headed out for the party together. As we walked out the door of the restaurant, he put his hand on my lower back, a move that sent pleasurable shivers up my spine. I turned to look at him. He smiled at me in a way that melted me inside and started getting my panties wet. Every move this guy made was making things better than they already were.

The drive to my friend’s house was only a few short minutes. I had brought my costume in my oversized purse with me, and I planned to change upon arrival. However, I knew I was going to need some help getting the corset laces cinched up correctly. After having made perfunctory introduction of my date to the hostess, I told him that I wanted to change in the upstairs bathroom and asked if he would mind helping me get my costume on. The smile on his face made me quiver inside. He slipped his hand into mine and waited for me to lead the way up the stairs.

Once we got to the bathroom, I made the pretense of leaving him outside of the door. “Just give me a minute to get to the point where I need your help,” I told him. While I could see he was disappointed he wasn’t going to get to help with removing my dress, I wanted to save that for later in the night when hopefully things would really heat up between us.

I closed the door and quickly removed my dress and bra, careful not to mess up my hair in the process. I also removed the necklace I had been wearing and placed it in my wallet for safekeeping. I slipped on the very short orange satin skirt with black lace overlay that was part of my costume. Then I put on the matching corset to the best of my ability, though there was no way for me to lace this one by myself. Using one arm to hold the corset against my chest, I opened the door with my other arm.

“Would you like to come in and help with the lacing up now?” I asked my date who was waiting in the hall.

“Holy fuck,” was his reply whispered softly as he took a look at me in my new outfit. The tops of my fishnet thigh highs were showing beneath the very short skirt. His eyes couldn’t help but stare and his hands reached down to touch the lace tops attached to the garter belt straps. He looked up into my eyes, and there was no stopping what happened next. He leaned in to kiss me, slowly and passionately. As the kiss finished, I opened my eyes again, looked at him and smiled. Yes, this was definitely going to be a great relationship.

“How about you come all the way in the bathroom now so we can close the door and finish getting me dressed?” I asked. He gently pushed me back as he closed the door behind us and not so subtly locked it, too. I knew that maneuver meant he had plans to do more than just lace my corset up. After the passionate kiss he had just given me, I was quite willing to engage in almost any other activity he had in mind. This man was hot, and I was even hotter for him. All kinds of ideas were racing through my dirty mind about what I wanted to do with him in this bathroom.

However, my date made the pretense of being a total gentleman. He turned me around gently, and began tightening the black laces on the corset. Occasionally one of his fingers would touch my skin as he pulled the laces tighter resulting in a shiver of pleasure from me. Having tied a bow at the top of the corset, his fingers began gently tracing upwards along my shoulders and onto my neck. I looked up in the mirror and saw him glancing back at me.

“Will you put on my choker for me, too?” I asked, handing it back to him. He pulled the black lace choker around my neck and fastened it in the back, but he quickly returned to his previous task of running his fingers over my shoulders and neck. Then he made the move that always seals the deal for me: he bent down and let his lips kiss my neck, gently, slowly, intentionally. I turned my head away from his, opening up my neck to give him more space to kiss. I could feel my body turning to jelly. The connection between my neck and my pussy was always so powerful.

Finally, I could resist him kissing my neck no longer. I turned around and put my hands on his shoulders, looking into his green eyes. I leaned in to kiss his lips, wanting to feel his tongue in my mouth while his hands roamed on my chest. He moved his hands down to my waist and then to my butt, pulling my entire body closer to him yet never breaking our kiss. I could feel his erection pressing against my abdomen through his black dress slacks.

The temptation was eventually too much. I dropped to my knees and looked up at him. He had a huge smile on his face, so I took that as a sign of consent. I reached up and unzipped his pants, reaching in to find a pair of boxers underneath. Threading my hand through the opening, I pulled out his very erect and very lovely cock. Gazing up at his eyes again, I moved my head towards his cock, and then closed my lips over its soft, delicate head. He gasped and rolled his head back with pleasure.

I began doing what I love to do so much with a hard cock: teasing it slowly and gently with my lips, running my tongue down its shaft, sucking on it, and generally letting it know how much I appreciate it. My date began groaning as I descended on his cock each time, and I could tell he was getting far too close to orgasm. I pulled off of his cock and rapidly pushed it back in his boxers and pants, zipping them and then staring up at him with an evil smirk on my face.

“You tease!” he exclaimed, pulling me to my feet.

“Whatever do you mean?” I mockingly asked him. He kissed me passionately again, and then turned me around so my back was facing him. He pushed my abdomen down over the countertop, which resulted in my ass thrusting out in the air.

“I mean,” he said, “that you are an incredibly naughty girl who deserves to have her bottom spanked for acting like that towards a desperate man.” And with that proclamation, he flipped up my short skirt and landed a very hard smack on my panty-covered ass.

“Ow!” I exclaimed, turning my head back to look at him. “Surely I wasn’t that naughty!”

“Oh, you were that naughty and even more,” he replied, giving the other butt cheek an equally hard slap to match the first one he had given me. I squealed at the sting. He had a very firm hand, and he was just getting started!

I tried to get up from the bent over position he had me in, but his free hand went to the center of my back and pinned me down.

“I don’t think so, young lady,” my date stated in a stern tone. “You have been teasing and taunting me all evening and now you’re going to have to pay the piper.” He could see my smile in the mirror as my eyes stared up at him, and he knew I was totally on board with his game.

“Yes, sir,” I replied. “Just not too loud, please! I don’t want the other guests to hear.”

“Well, if they do hear,” he said, “They’ll just know what a naughty girl you are. That outfit doesn’t leave much to the imagination anyway, so they’ll probably already have their suspicions.” With that pronouncement, he centered himself behind me and pulled down my panties to my knees in one rapid move. I hadn’t expected that boldness from him, but I also wasn’t objecting. I liked an assertive man.

“What a lovely ass,” he commented carefully caressing my naked globes. “It’s marked with two red handprints for some reason, though.”

“I can’t imagine why!” I retorted in a sarcastic tone. His response was to give me two more hard smacks, one on each bare cheek with his hand.

“Ouch!” I cried out again. I grabbed the decorative Halloween hand towel that was sitting next to me and shoved it in my mouth to try and keep from making too much noise. The music from the party was playing loudly, but I didn’t want to give the guests any more hints at what was going on upstairs aside from the smacks they might already be hearing on my poor bottom.

“A sub who willingly gags herself… I like this!” my date expressed. After gently rubbing my bottom again for a few seconds, he returned to giving me a few more hard smacks on each cheek. Wow. This guy was a hard spanker! I pulled the towel out of my mouth to let him know that.

“You have got a really stern hand, sir,” I said, “You don’t mess around when you spank a girl!”

“No, I don’t,” he said, “And from what I can tell, that is exactly the kind of man you need in your life. One who is going to take you in hand and make sure you behave.”

“Yes, sir,” I replied. This was truly what a wanted—a man who wasn’t going to let me get away with tormenting him. A man who was going to flirt with me. A man who was going to spank me. A man who was going to fuck me. It was almost as if my date was reading my mind, because as those thoughts went through my head, his fingers began to delicately run along the outside of my very sensitive and aroused pussy.

“You know,” my date said thoughtfully, “Bathrooms often have great spanking implements in them like bath brushes and hairbrushes. What does your friend keep in hers?”

Shit. I knew for a fact that my friend had a wooden paddle hairbrush in the top drawer of the vanity. She’d shown it to me once after I’d seen some obvious marks on her thighs when we were trying on clothing on a shopping expedition. It was how I learned she was kinky, too. Now that knowledge was about to come back to haunt me on Halloween.

“There’s a hairbrush in the top drawer that is used for spanking,” I reluctantly answered my date.

“Oh, really?” he said. “And do you think your friend would object to it being used on your naughty bottom instead of hers?”

“No, I’m quite sure she wouldn’t,” I replied. “She’s threatened to use it on my ass more than once!”

“Well, then,” my date said, “Please bring me the hairbrush.” With that, he went and sat on the edge of the tub, waiting expectantly for me to fetch his chosen spanking implement. I sighed, stood up, opened the drawer, and pulled out the weapon of doom that was about to redden my bottom even more than it already was. I turned and faced him, hobbling with my panties around my knees for the few short steps over to the edge of the tub where I handed him the brush. I held the hand towel slash gag in my other hand. He then indicated to me that I should lay myself over his lap with my body draped into the tub for stability. I decided to comply.

After having carefully positioned myself on my date’s lap, I shoved the towel back in my mouth. If he was going to use a hairbrush on me, I was going to need it to muffle my screams. I was never one to take a hairbrush to my bottom quietly. My siblings, cousins, parents, aunts, uncles, grandparents, and past boyfriends could all attest to that! Decades of having my bottom paddled hadn’t made a bit of difference. I still squirmed, squealed, and complained loudly whenever I was being spanked with a hairbrush.

My date laughed at my mock gag. “You seem to think you’re going to get a hard spanking that merits a muzzle,” he joked. “Well, you’re certainly right about that.” And with one fell swoop, the hairbrush landed hard on my bare bottom right over my crack down low near my sit spots.

“OW!” I screamed into my towel, not that it sounded like anything coherent. My sadistic date chuckled at my response and then began a more traditional spanking in earnest. He was an orderly spanker with a hairbrush. He started at the bottom of one thigh, working his way steadily up my butt cheek, over to the other butt check, and down the second thigh. It took him about ten spanks to make the first round with this large paddle brush, much to my dismay. He stopped to inspect his work after these first swats, gently rubbing with the back of the hairbrush on my stinging skin.

“That was definitely a good first pass,” he said. “You scream quite nicely in response to the hairbrush, and that seems quite appropriate for Halloween. I want to make sure I get your thighs nice and red, though, before I stop. I want guests to see your red thighs just below that sexy skirt of yours so that they can know what happens to naughty girls like you when they are taken in hand.” And with that, he began another round of spanking my thighs and bottom while I began another round of screaming into the towel.

The second round of smacks was much harder than the first, and they gave the results that my date wanted to see. He let me know, “I’m just going to give your thighs a few more hard smacks to make them extra red. I don’t want to spank you too much now as I plan to spank you again after the party when I take you home.” Something inside me quivered at the promise of more spanking later. This was the kind of date I lived for.

However, before that promised spanking, I had to make it through this one. My date gave each thigh another five hard swats with the brush before he set it down next to him on the tub. He rubbed my backside with one hand and removed the towel from my mouth with his other hand.

“I’m done spanking you for now,” he informed me.

“Yes, sir,” I responded, remaining on his lap. I had been trained by previous Doms not to get up until I had permission, something my date was appreciating now. His one hand now touched my shoulders while the other hand crawled up my inner thighs to my pussy. He stuck two fingers inside of me; they slid in quite easily as the foreplay had gotten me quite wet.

“Wow. You really like being spanked, don’t you, Young Lady?” he asked almost rhetorically.

“Yes, sir. I’m a slutty girl who likes to be punished and fucked,” I replied.

“You don’t say?” he responded. “Well then, stand up now so I can work on the fucking you part now that I’ve spanked you.” A smile came to my face. That had been easier to manipulate than I expected. I stood up and looked at my date in the eyes. He also stood up and began kissing me again.

“Put the hairbrush away and then bend over the counter again,” he ordered me. I did as I was instructed, but I also pulled out a condom from the drawer while I was in there. I checked the expiration date and then handed it to my man. I was sure my friend wouldn’t mind me using that either!

As I bent over the counter again, I watched my date in the mirror.  He smiled back at me as he unfastened his belt, dropped his pants and boxers, and then slipped the condom over his rock-hard cock. He moved forward towards me, lifting up my skirt once more, and rapidly plunging deep inside my pussy which was so wet that lube was in no way necessary.

Quite quickly, my partner began thrusting inside of me. I loved seeing his facial expressions in the mirror as his hands held onto my hips, pushing against them with each thrust. Soon, though, all I could focus on was the intense pleasure manifesting in my pussy. Orgasm was not going to take long at all after a spanking like that.

Once again, I grabbed a hand towel to use as a gag, this time to muffle my screams of pleasure instead of my yelps of pain. My groans were still coming through the fabric, though, and my date could tell I was getting close. He kept accelerating his thrusts, his balls loudly slapping against my pussy loudly as the intensity increased. His moans became vocal, too. I let out a scream that the towel couldn’t muffle as he pushed me over the edge into a full-throttle orgasm. Knowing I had reached climax, he let loose, and with a few more thrusts, he had reached orgasm, too.

I looked up in the mirror to see his face smiling with post-orgasmic pleasure. He could see the same look on my face. He stepped back carefully, grabbing some toilet paper to catch the condom which was beginning to work its way off of his softening cock. I began to stand up but he commanded me, “Don’t move!”

I couldn’t help but wonder what he had in mind now. After disposing of the condom and redressing himself, my date walked over to me and slapped my still red bottom a few more times.

“Ow!” I cried out. “Do you normally reward orgasms with spankings?” I asked.

“No,” he said. “But I just wanted to remind you that there is going to be more spanking later after the party. And more fucking, too.” With that, he gave each of my reddened thighs a few more hard slaps to perk up their color and then began pulling up my panties over my garter. He flipped down my skirt, stood me up, and turned me to face him. As we gazed into each other’s eyes, he moved forward and kissed me passionately once more. This guy was going to be a lot of fun.

As we pulled apart from the kiss, I slipped on the black satin gloves I had brought to complete my outfit. I also shoved an orange and black fake flower into my hair. With my dress and bra shoved in my purse, we headed downstairs to join the festivities. I wonder if anyone would notice how long it had taken me to change. My friend’s laughing smile and knowing glance told me she had. She came over and whispered in my ear, “I want to hear that story later!” I laughed and nodded my head in assent. I looked forward to telling her what had happened in her bathroom… plus whatever else was going to happen later after the party when my date and I got back to my place for completely uninhibited fun.

©2017 WoodLeatherLace.com