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The end (for now) September 15, 2011

Posted by Leah in Gallimaufry.

A conversation with myself

“You gonna go?”




“For good?”

“Maybe. Nah. Maybe.”

“How come?”

“This semester is busy. My thesis clock is ticking. I need to think about jobs. I have been away for more than a year. I want a boyfriend. Not immediately. But soon. I’m gonna give this sex blog thing a rest for a while.”

“Was it fun?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Then why don’t you keep doing it?”

“I don’t have the hours a week to spare. For sex, yes. For writing about sex, not really.”

“You don’t have to write about every single time, silly.”

“I’m not planning to do that ever again.”

“Do you have more to say?”

“About sexuality: yeah. About D/s: for sure. About sex itself: maybe. I worry the writing will become stale. Already, I feel like I am repeating myself constantly. I would rather end too early than too late.”

“You have an audience.”

“I know. Isn’t it amazing?”

“You’re going to miss this.”

“Probably. But there’s a lot of other stuff I want to do as well. Life’s short, ya know?”

“Seriously. You’re going to miss it. London, too. Fucking crazy sinks, crowded tubes, British cuisine, the infestation of tourists in summer, pints at the pub after work with your friends, the museums, the theater, the parks, all those orchestras including your own. Everything. You will miss it all.”

“I am going back at the end of December or in early January. I’ll see Amadeo. I’ll see Frank. I will be in the UK for a couple of weeks. I will write up whatever happens. It fits the theme of the place. Leah lays London. It will be like old times. This isn’t goodbye. I am coming back.”

“And then? Is it goodbye after that?”

“I don’t know. That’s an honest answer. I simply do not know. I have been pondering another blog. Something exciting and different. Fresh adventures. New friends. I have an itch to write. But I make no promises. Right now, I need a break.”

“The curtain goes down.”

“But the show goes on.”

“It always does.”

Connect the dots September 15, 2011

Posted by Leah in Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Repeated hookups.





I wrote the letters vertically in green marker down the underside of his shaft. Snapping up the swinging sac with my lips, I sucked each of his testicles. The tonguetip poked at them. My lips made a seal and tugged. I compacted the grip of my fingers on the scrotum, brought the balls together, swiped my tongue across, and sketched a smiley face underneath. Saliva smeared the ink.

I handed the pen to Frank. “You do me,” I said.

A scattering of small brown birthmarks populate my right shoulder. Frank played connect the dots with the magic marker. He kissed the blemishes and layered star shaped ornaments over the skin. He sketched a ladder between the hollows of my ribs. The stubby felt tip of the pen set me to giggling. Ink smudged. He drew a long line from my nipple, down the bottom of the breast, down the torso and the abdomen, down still farther over the pubis, finally terminating at the clit. He repeated on the opposite side, straighter on his second effort. Lips and tongue followed the lines to their convergence. He pinched the hood down and licked.

Juices dripped from my pussy in viscous, silver strands. His tongue collected my wetness. Palm facing up, he snuck two fingers into me, and spun his wrist while he nursed at each of my nipples. Frank alternated between them so that the one wouldn’t feel left out by the other.

When it was my turn to play, I flicked my thumb across Frank’s spongy glans. The mouth made faces at me as the heel brushed over it. Precome beaded in the eye. I spread it over the head. I stroked his shaft with my left hand and allowed the right to feather along the furrow of his ass. The minute hairs tickled the pads of my fingers. I verbalized a promise to rim his asshole later. I loved how he groaned when I said this.

He tilted his face and looked up at me. I covered his mouth with mine. A purple dildo clattered to the floor.

I compressed my tits together, and Frank wedged his cock between them. The shaft slid through the cleavage. Penis flat against the breastbone, the glans looked like a locomotive powering through a tunnel. Craning my head from the pillow, I extended my tongue to lick the choo-choo at the apex of its ascent.

I had him sit on top of me and petaled the labia open. The shaft pressed against the inner lips of cunt. It dragged, forward and backward, along the slick folds and became damp in the seepage from my pussy. The contact the stem made against the clitoris felt glorious. The nerves below ached in their want. I painted his balls with cunt wet fingers.

We sat on the bed. His thumb rubbed lightly across my slit.

“When were you last tested?” I nuzzled against his shoulder.

His lips pursed together as he considered. “February,” Frank said.

With superior strength, he flipped me horizontal and pinned my arms to the bed. I brought my legs around his and spun them over his calves. He pecked my lips. I clamped down on Frank’s tongue and held it between my teeth. It skated over the points as he extracted it from me. After a moment, his tongue darted back into my open mouth, as I knew it would. My hands lowered on either side of his spine. I gripped his buttocks and shook the cheeks. My tongue briefly slipped into his mouth. Frank dropped a series of soft little kisses over my upper lip. I licked the line of his smile, which persuaded his tongue back out to dance.

I broke the kiss and released a heartfelt sigh. “April,” I said, reaching behind me. My hand stumbled blindly over the nightstand for a condom.

Farewell, lover September 12, 2011

Posted by Leah in Bondage, Buggery, Cunnilingus, D/s, Fellatio, Fisting, Fucking, Repeated hookups, Spanking.

I am back in the United States. I have two more stories to tell about London. I had my final Wednesday date with Amadeo. Frank came to visit on Friday and saw me off to Heathrow on Saturday. Both these goodbyes were tinged with sadness. I am friendly with Marshall, the man I have seen several times during the last weeks. Though we have out of this world sex, we aren’t especially tight. I am not broken up about leaving him. With Amadeo and Frank, the situation is different. I miss them terribly.

On the seventh day of the month of September in the year two thousand and eleven, Amadeo brought me to subspace one last time.

He took me in every orifice. Using my ears as handles, he throat fucked me. The saliva spilled from my mouth, falling in thick ropes that left a puddle on the floor. The tug of wrists wrenching both of my arms from their sockets, he impaled my anus onto his cock and battered my ass from behind. He pinned my wrists high above my head with one of his enormous paws, and while his cock pounded my cunt, I sucked and bit on the fingers in my mouth. After I came, he licked my puffy and swollen pussy with an abundance of gentleness. I brought his hands to my breasts while he ate me out. He deposited kisses over the water smooth pubis and swirled his tongue round and round the orgasm engorged clit. The pussy licking was the prelude to a fisting. It took him twenty minutes to squeeze inside. I couldn’t see it happen — not fully — flat as I was on my back, breathing hard, and clenching the sheets. I concentrated on his speech, and he talked me through the process of fitting his hand into my cunt until the muscles at the entrance stretched like a rubber band about his wrist. I was a mitten. I was a glove. My hair was swimming in sweat. I resided in a hazy and contented place with his fist inside.

Amadeo’s aftercare was exquisite. He held me protectively.

He took me over his lap and spanked me. The barehand blows landed over my buttocks in fortissimo thunderclaps that set my ass to rippling. The heat seared into the flesh. The skin turned an angry red. The muscles ached. Wriggling his hand between my thighs, Amadeo discovered a sopping cunt. In the intervals, he fingered my pussy lips and clitoris. He left no bruises but nevertheless walloped me until I was beyond screaming. Tears bespoke pain. But I was also aware that this could be the end. I will miss our nights together. Orgasm came to me in an adrenaline and endorphin fueled rush.

I brought a blubbering face to his penis and sucked him softly, savoring his scents and flavors, the heft of his cock between my lips, and the taste of precome on my tongue. When he was perfectly rigid and yearning, I placed a condom over the erection. Amadeo took me slowly from above. The cock imposed itself to the balls, then retreated completely. My hands tightened on his arms and shoulders, and I kissed him. He kept removing the penis from my cunt and slapping the shaft over my pubis. He painted the moisture from inside over the skin.

I went to sleep with the meter long chain that attached to my collar looped around the headboard of the bed. Amadeo’s recumbent body radiated its heat next to me. He had begun on his side, spooning me, with an arm folded over my breasts. We were both horizontal now, stretched out and supine. He took in deep breaths of air in his sleep. I fingered the cold metal links of the chain and shut my eyes. My pussy was sore from fucking.

In the shower in the morning, I took pleasure in washing his body. I rinsed soap from his underarms and followed with kisses. I used foam to pattern white arcs over his backside. I tasted the skin that I had cleaned. I sponged his cock and sucked him under the water stream. After the orgasm, which produced only the smallest spoonful of ejaculate, I extended Amadeo’s left leg and kissed my way down to his ankle. Taking his foot in hand, I licked along the arch. Fingernails scratched the sole and tickled. I sucked his big toe just as I had minutes before sucked his glans. My tongue flickered into the crevice between the big toe and the longer one next to it. I lapped at the top of the foot and along its sides. My lips left kisses over the pads of his toes. I pressed the sole against my cheek, and I nosed at the heel.

Once we had reversed positions, Amadeo held the showerhead and pointed it over my body. I closed my eyes and stood on my toes, wrapped my arms around his neck, and enjoyed the unhurried kisses while he soaped my tits and back. Bringing my arms in the air, he washed my armpits and flank. He rubbed in circles over my belly, skirted the pussy, and continued on to my legs. I propped a foot on his knee as soapy hands slid along the leg. He scrubbed between the toes. After he had rinsed my cunt lips, he pressed his face down hard and licked me. Turning me against the wall, he gnawed the flesh of my buttocks and the hollow of the neck where it meets the shoulder. He shampooed my hair with exceptional care. I went to my knees again and let the back of my head brush against his penis.

On the drive to the university, whenever he could spare it from the stick shift, he placed his hand on the inner part of my thigh. Rising to tiptoes, I wrapped his shoulder and back and hugged him next to the car when we arrived. We kissed, once, twice, and held each other. I waited for him to dissolve the hug. I clasped his right hand in my left and his left in my right. We drifted apart.

“Farewell, lover,” I whispered. Then louder: “See you around.” The smile reached his eyes.

I don’t know what I can say about Frank. The fucking was likely the purest sex I have had in London. It wasn’t the all night orgy some of our previous encounters were. We did it once in the evening and again in the morning. We did it in my flat, on my bed, over sheets I abandoned, with my packed luggage by the side of the door. It was funny. It was comfortable. We had intensely personal conversations and companionable silences. It wasn’t the least bit romantic. The sex affirmed a friendship, one that, I hope, will endure through the distance and the decades.

It will be ages — well, months — before my next rendezvous with either of these men. It will happen though. And possibly we will renew our acquaintance in bed. I would like that very much.

I will write another post soon.

Loose ends September 11, 2011

Posted by Leah in Blogroll, Gallimaufry.

Belated Blogroll

In addition to the ones I have highlighted, I wish I had the time to explain why I like these blogs so much.

A Feminist Sub

Bareback Grrl

Dark Gracie

Diary of a Kinky Librarian

Dirty Little Mind

Easily Aroused

Pieces of Jade

Quickies in New York

Random Rim Jobs

Remittance Girl

Sadie’s Open Marriage

The Naughty Secretary

The Sex Experiment

25 Things About My Sexuality

Wild Ride

Your Filthy Sex Secrets

Maybe you will have the time to explore on your own.



There is a page.

I thought about adding pictures to accompany the writeups of the various adventures that I have had. Posting photographs of myself and thereby committing them to the internet forever is not something I am comfortable doing. Finding a photo that works with a story is also not easy. I have tried looking a few times. Even if I were to succeed in finding a picture, I am concerned about copyright. Calling this fair use strikes me as a dubious proposition. So this is a project that never went anywhere. Perhaps one day, having made my fortune, I will commission the 122 illustrations that I need.



I am no longer updating. The e-mail address still works. You can send questions there. I expect I will answer eventually.

A bdsm love story September 11, 2011

Posted by Leah in Blogroll.

Words are a power. They are one of the powers of the earth, in fact. I might be submissive in the bedroom, but in front of my keyboard, I have all the dominance. I sculpt the experiences as I relate the assorted sordid tales. Much abides, but much is taken. The stories are filtered through the prism of my perceptions. They are shaped by my memory. I edit the events in the telling. I don’t remember all the details. After all, the best encounters exist for me only in the moments of supreme bliss. I don’t record all that I remember either. There isn’t time to tell everything. Some of it is unimportant. This is how I write. It is fascinating to see how someone else, who shares many of my kinks, presents her experiences.

SapioSlut has a blog. Her adventures appear in a book. As well, there is a sequel.

As an undergraduate in Chicago, I learned about submission in sex clubs. I was taught by two dominant men in particular, one in his late twenties, another in his middle thirties. SapioSlut’s D/s awakening arose via the agency of SapioSir, who, she relates, changed sex from being something nice and fun to something that reaches right through me, turns me inside out and upside down, and whose limits we have yet to reach. I hope those limits are always on a distant horizon. The journey to the edge of the world has its rewards.

SapioSlut ejaculates in orgasm. I do, too, but only rarely. For her this happens with desirable frequency. She says: I can’t come on command yet, but I can certainly squirt on command. She does so in creative ways: When he invited me to hump his leg it meant that in a few seconds I was squirting all over him and the bed. Towel time! And a good thing too, because the towel was soaked after a few more squirts.

SapioSlut also has more orgasms in shorter periods of time than anyone I have ever heard of. She once had 124 in one hour. I wrote to her to ask about the physiology of these hundred orgasms, the shapes they take. She answered me: I think there is a core set of muscles that spasmed with most if not all the orgasms (in my abs and minor glutes — these were the ones that were extremely sore for a few days) as well as the pure struggle of processing the sensation. You are correct, there [are] definitely different types of orgasms through that lot — some comparatively superficial (for me those are the clitoral only) through to deep cervical ones that happen for me with high intensity directly on my cervix which also tend to deploy an intense emotional response as well. I remember musing about whether this ability can be trained. I still wonder that. I should practice.

There are a wealth of other experiences that SapioSlut has that extend far beyond my knowledge. The force of her narrative wants me to try these things out. When SapioSlut said that SapioSir turned her upside down, she meant this quite literally. Under inverted suspension, a small amount of squirt dribbled down my tummy with the first orgasm, but the large rivulets that came gushing down with the second and third were new indeed. Normally my squirt goes straight into a towel, but this time gravity was pulling it down my body and right through my hair. I have only given a blowjob upside down. I wonder about electroplay. I may not try it out. But I admit to curiosity.

What is refreshing about SapioSlut and SapioSir is that they are obviously in love, and the dominance and the submission and the kinky sex happen within a context. Reading the book and reading the blog, we see glimpses of the depths. Some of the short passages are the most expressive. She writes on January 14: Riding in the car this morning I thought about the bruise on my shoulder. Thinking about how it got there gave me an almost instantaneous moment of arousal. His presence, his touch, his growl, his teeth were all there in my mind again. I wanted more. I was instantly lustful. Deliciously so.

In the long run, I want what SapioSlut has. I hesitate to term my feelings envy because I am not at all begrudging. Rather, I am happy to read what she shares about her life with SapioSir. I find myself moved by the pervasive and palpable joy. The way she plays — adventurous, bold, and oh! so sexy — arises organically, nourished as it is by love. I am still picking my way through the frontier, whereas she has built a homestead there. I hope I can thank her someday for providing a peek at the years ahead. For now, I thank her for sharing a bdsm love story with voyeurs like me.

Marshall one more time September 7, 2011

Posted by Leah in Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Fucking, Repeated hookups.

I sat on my shins, straddling his thighs, and during the kisses, I sucked his bottom lip softly and also his tongue. Between us, the only article of clothing we had on was Marshall’s necktie, which I wore in a loose knot; the end reached past the delta and dangled between my legs. His hands smoothed over my back and shoulders, and mine spidered over his chest. Occasionally, I gripped his cock, but most of the time I was content to touch only above the waist. We may have remained nearly naked on the sofa making out for close to half an hour — I was in no hurry to stop.

In bed, he laid on his back, and legs stretching in the bay between his, I laid prone over his chest. While my labia dragged over his abdomen and my hand on his cheek angled his head to one side and his hand on my leg opened up my thighs and fingered my pussy, the kisses continued without pause. Before I took his cock into my mouth, the flat of my tongue swabbed the underside and his balls; the point followed the lines of his groin to where they met his thighs.

I lowered onto the penis, on hands and knees, and he fucked me from below. From above, my body must have looked so small on top of his, a tiny girl clinging to a big man, clenching his shoulders with her hands, his cock with her cunt, constantly moaning. I pushed off the bed with both hands and thrust my pussy up and down the length of his shaft. His arms wrapped my back, and he held me down with his penis embedded deep inside. The tip of his index finger found its way into my asshole and wiggled in to the knuckle; I liked being full front and back.

Later, he took me with my feet in the air. His body slammed onto mine from a height, and he used the sinews in his arms to lift his weight off me as he withdrew.

Still later, he fucked me in doggy fashion. My calves extended beneath the arch of his thighs. He gripped my hips and powered the penis into my vagina, the glans prodding muscles and membranes far in the interior as the balls connected with my body with a loud clap.

I laid on my side in a bend, and Marshall fucked me from behind, so slowly, so softly. The penetration was less deep than before, but my cunt felt more stretched out as the shaft slid against the walls in a molto adagio tempo.

Facing away, facing his feet, I watched us in the mirror on the wall. Like Norman Foster’s gherkin on the city skyline, his penis had a long silhouette and a rounded edge. I balanced myself on top, and as I made an unhurried descent, the muscles of my vagina compressed about the shaft. Marshall had me by the hips, and he raised and lowered my body over his.

The first time I came, I stood on the floor, bowing at the waist. My hand gripped the side of the bed. Marshall had one hand in my hair, and he hauled me backward by the thigh against his pelvis, which drove the other way, improbably fast, impossibly hard.

Somewhere in between — I no longer remember precisely when — Marshall folded my legs open and sucked my pussy. The cream from my cunt had left his condom white. Holding a hand and a breast, he lapped the same wetness from my folds.

The next fucks had a similar shape: we constantly changed position, each seeking to experience our partner in every conceivable manner, desperate to enjoy the totality of the experience, to make it last. I met Marshall so late: this was all we had.

Last Thursday’s date September 6, 2011

Posted by Leah in Anilingus, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Fucking, Repeated hookups.

We were in front of his bed, kissing. Our hands roamed over each other’s bodies. Mine traversed his broad shoulders and his muscular back and torso. His were in my hair. He tilted my face to improve the angle of lip lock. He also gripped my ass and hooked his hand under my leg to lift my thigh against his hip. I stood on tiptoes to bring my pubis into contact with his groin. As he kissed the side of my face and my throat, both of my hands worked under his short sleeved white shirt and smoothed over the hot skin. Once I had unbuttoned, my lips progressed intimately down his bare chest. Fingers stroked the tent in his trousers.

I went to my knees, unzipped the fly, and pulled the briefs down to his knees. I commenced fellatio. Marshall bundled my hair in one hand and held it out of my way while I gave suck. Rotating my face, I swallowed two-thirds of the shaft. My hand applied pressure to the balls. Fingers clutched the base of the penis and spun. Tightening on his ass and hip, I made an effort to inhale more of the cock. To my disappointment, I was able to ingest only three-quarters of his length. The glans stretched my throat. I appreciated the weight and the heaviness of the shaft over my tongue. My lips strained on the girth. Because I discovered that Marshall was especially sensitive even to the lightest touch of teeth, I made an effort to avoid any contact. My hands reached far above my head to cup his male tits. Pulling the cock from my mouth, I held it in front of me and addressed it from the side. My lips and tongue floated on a cushion of silky saliva down and back up the rounded edge. I kissed his hairy groin.

Marshall placed both of his hands on the back of my head. His pelvis thrust out, just as it had while we were dancing earlier, and he fucked his cock through my lips.

I held the penis vertical and sunk my head to his hanging balls. I sucked them individually and dragged my tongue back up the underside of the shaft and took the head into my lips again. With fingers in my hair or a hand on each shoulder, Marshall was content to let me suck him for long minutes. I took as much as I could, and whenever I needed air, I mouthed the penis from the side. The tongue concentrated especially on the parts at the bottom that I could not fit into my mouth. Stroking his erection, I covered his lower abdomen with a carpet of soft kisses.

He sat on the edge of the bed and let me undress him fully. On my knees hunched over a thigh, I held his balls and concentrated my attention to sucking just the head of the cock.

Marshall lifted my top off and unhooked the bra. Bringing me to my feet, he also stood and sucked each of my breasts. His mouth covered the areolae. His tongue flicked rapidly over my nipples. As he nursed, his hand tightened on the lower part of the breasts. I held on to his cock.

I wore a pleated black skirt — short — with a silver thong underneath and black leather boots that reached to the knees. Marshall unfastened the buttons at the side and hauled the skirt down my legs. I sat on the bed and shimmied out of my panties. I aimed the thong at him like a slingshot. When I let go, it tumbled in the air, struck his chest, and bounced to the floor. He pushed me flat over the mattress and unzipped the boots. Latching on to the darker cap of my thick gray socks, he tugged them free of my feet. Save for earrings and a necklace, I was naked.

He lowered his weight onto me. I wrapped my arms about his shoulders and gripped his body tight as we kissed audibly. His hand grasped one of my breasts. I held his thigh and scratched lightly with my nails. The cock prodded me from below. Marshall tongued each tit thoroughly. His lips descended slowly to where my legs met. The tongue lapped the navel in promise of what would follow. He teased me. His lips and tongue traced designs upon my thighs and over my smooth pubis. He cupped my breasts. He didn’t touch the pussy for long minutes.

Marshall lapped my cunt until I came. He licked the slit. Tongue squeezing past the labia, he dashed it wetly just inside the opening. His lips sucked hard over the clitoris. His teeth nipped gently at the swollen pussy lips. His nose mined into my pubis.

I spread my legs wide to encourage his explorations. My hands gripped the sheets tightly. I squeaked moans of pleasure into the night.

The pressure of his hand behind my knee lifted one of my legs. His mouth lowered to lap at the perineum. I felt the spit flow down to my anus. Grabbing hold of the lips again, his head shook from side to side. He was a dog chewing. And then he was a jungle cat patiently licking. My thighs compressed about the sides of his head. I gripped his hair to hold him to me. My orgasm exploded on his face. Blanketing my body with his, Marshall kissed me softly. I tasted my cream on his chin and his lips.

It was his turn. I urged Marshall onto his back and draped myself over his body. As I kissed him, my fingers renewed their acquaintance with his cock, which had remained hard. Just as he had done, my lips smooched his chest as I lowered. I noted the reflective sheen of sweat over the beautifully delineated pectoral and abdominal muscles. The skin had a touch of salt to it. Marshall’s hand stroked my back.

I kissed his glans. The tip of my tongue traced the veins on the bottom surface of the penis. I sucked on each hemisphere of the scrotum and felt the testicles moving under the skin, moving under my tongue, moving under the suction. My hand shucked over the shaft.

I asked Marshall to lift his legs into the air. My fingers prised the ass cheeks open. I lapped at his perineum and anus. Alternating between mouthing the balls, during which time my fingers layered spit over his asshole, and rimming those sensitive surrounding folds extravagantly, I listened to the sound of his groans. His sphincter embraced the tip of my tongue. The muscles had a velvet grip. I fell into the hole. My face buried itself in his ass.

When I took Marshall’s cock past my lips again, I saw tension in his musculature. I hollowed my cheeks and sucked hard on the shaft. My fingers rubbed his anus. My tongue rasped on the underside of the cock. My lips tightened their seal. My hand squeezed and released over his balls.

His body bucked from the bed when he came. The penis cocked and discharged. The recoil caused my lips to slip upward, but I clamped down below the glans. As he spewed, my index finger wriggled past the sphincter and applied pressure to the prostate. His muscles contracted around the finger. Semen flooded my mouth. This was a heavy orgasm. I tried to swallow it all, but some of his come escaped the corners of my lips. He tasted clean. The scent of the ocean filled my nostrils.

Since he had just come, it would be several minutes before he could fuck. But I knew he would last in my pussy once he was inside. I had him turn onto his belly and overlaid my body atop his and kissed the nape of his neck and the joining of his shoulder and throat. My hands massaged the muscles of his back. My tongue followed the ridges of the shoulder blades. I lifted his arms up and kissed his flanks. My mouth made a transit over the middle region. I dragged my cunt lips along the valley of his spine. They left a trail of moisture and settled at the small of his back.

Marshall edged me off his body. I knelt to his side and stooped to kiss him once more. At once, his hand stole between my legs. He fingered my pussy from below. The junction remained sticky from before. Droplets of arousal coated the labia. It was time for us to fuck. I extracted a condom from the box on the floor next to the bed, placed it over the top of the glans with my lips and rolled it down his erection.

He took me doggy style to begin. He commented that his thick cock had compelled my opening to stretch wide. I was tight inside. I was so wet for him. He held me by the buttocks as he stood on the floor, knees bent, and muscled his way into me. I moaned and told him how much I loved having him fuck me this way. Looking backward, I smiled and laughed with the pleasure of having him within.

We turned around. I was on the bed with arms up in the air, thighs splitting on either side of his hip, calves folded over his legs. His hands reached below my body and lifted me up toward him while his pelvis made a spin and a thrust. His cock was in me nearly completely. He withdrew only a small part of the shaft. I rolled my head on the pillow and raised my buttocks each time he fully lowered. The movement of his hips was a pulse that propelled through my skin. It made my breasts wobble. He sucked on my tits. I closed my eyes. Letting my weight sink into the mattress, I verbalized my approval of the things he was doing to me. He perspired heavily. I experienced the slide of Marshall’s body, slick with sweat, on top of me.

To make my pussy even tighter for his cock, he pressed my legs together. Holding them at the knees, he brought the legs up so that they were vertical and fucked me with metronomic precision. He groaned each time he thrust. I answered with a softer moan.

As he fucked me, I heard the ticking of the clock in the bedroom, his heartbeat, and my own. I placed my small hand atop his larger one. Marshall’s cock left me replete.

I came when he fucked me again in doggy fashion. This time he knelt behind me on the bed. The balls slapped against my pussy. The impact of his thighs upon mine set my ass to rippling. I knew because he told me. The muscles of my cunt wrung his cock. I bit my lower lip to forestall screaming. He kept driving the penis into me, which extended the orgasm.

Afterwards, he turned me around and fingered my post-orgasmic sodden pussy while kissing first my breasts and then my lips. Bracing his body mass with his arms, he sat on the edge of the bed. I mounted the penis. My forearms pushed off his shoulders, and I rocked myself over his cock. The muscles of my thighs directed the fuck. The sound of cock in pussy was liquid.

We ended with him on his back and me on top. I hunched myself over him. He held me by the ass and launched his cock deep into me at a frantic pace. Marshall had me coming constantly. He groaned throughout while I shrieked at the feeling of fullness in my pussy and the glorious sensation of getting fucked so very hard. He made an unintelligible utterance. It had the sound of speech at volume and a rising pitch. It was not English or Dutch or any other language. It was the raw expression of joy, an ancient pronouncement, ageless, ingenuous, candid, potent, sincere. He came in my cunt. The cock popped out during his intense convulsions. He shoved it back in where it belonged, and I tightened about it. After orgasm, he continued to thrust, softly now. He lifted me off his body after a while. I rubbed my slick pussy over the latex on his penis, then rolled my weight off him. With a pair of fingers inside me, his lips latched on to mine. He gave me his tongue.

The first hour September 2, 2011

Posted by Leah in D/s, Fellatio, Fucking, Masturbation, Repeated hookups, Urine.

Unfortunately, I don’t have time to compose a full report. These are highlights of the first hour or so on Wednesday night. I will write up Thursday later.

• Amadeo’s apartment has a large bathroom. He made me go to the floor there and strip. I took off my top and my bra and wriggled out of the curve hugging, little black skirt I had worn. The polka dotted cotton panties followed. Amadeo had been holding his bladder in check for quite a while. He told me he needed to go when we entered the tube and already shifted his weight on each foot. He did the same now, except this time his fly was open. He held his cock in his hand. When I was naked aside from thigh high black stockings, he kicked my legs apart and pissed onto my cunt.

• He straddled my body with knees bent. The arm I had behind me supported my weight. My right hand stroked his thigh. I sucked cock. To start, my tongue circled the foreskin, which had the sharp and pungent taste of urine. Within a few minutes, I had the crown embedded. I squeezed with the muscles of my throat just how he liked. The floor was now slippery, so I slid as I fellated. The still warm liquid wet my thighs and buttocks.

• Amadeo sat on the edge of the bathtub. I stood, turned away from him, and, bending at the waist, grasped my shins and asked him to fuck me with his foot. He manipulated the labial folds. The pads of his toes skated along the slit. He squeezed his big toe past the entrance of my pussy. I gripped my ankles, which lowered my center of gravity. He fucked me harder. Eventually, I laid recumbent on the floor, with my hair in his cold piss. His toes masturbated me to orgasm.

• He fucked my cunt in four positions: (1) up against the door, my foot on the floor, his arm hooking under the other knee and holding me against the wood by the throat with his cock buried to the hilt; (2) on top facing away while he laid in the puddle of his own urine and fingered my clit; (3) on hands and knees as he plugged me from behind until my elbows buckled, after which he took me on shoulders and knees; (4) on my back, on the cold and clammy floor, my thigh up against his chest as he slammed me while lying on his side below my body.

• He stood straddling my chest and jerked himself off. From my perspective, the columns of his legs lifted like skyscrapers. I smoothed my hands over the shins and calves. Some part of the semen landed on my face as he had intended. Some of it also fell to the floor. The last drops, which he shook free of the cock, rained on my tits. He held my neck to ground while I dragged my tongue over the floor and sucked the ejaculate from the tiles. He tilted my head to the ceiling with a violent tug on the hair and kissed me after I had swallowed.