Also…
As I think I’ve forgotten to mention it on here:
I’m a pole dancing teacher! I was told I got the position last week, and I’m so excited!
Injuries are not so bad when you learn to live with them
Me and William hadn’t seen each other for 8 days. That isn’t very long, but I had been out of the country, so there was a need on his part to see me, maybe to just check that I was still in one piece. He picked me up from my office (I have my own office *Squee*!), and it took all my sterness, dominance, and a little bit of willpower to stop him taking me there and then. As tempting as the thrill of workplace sex was, I didn’t want to upset my supervisor who was in the office next door.
So into the car we get: he is playing with my hair all the way home. William likes this: he likes playing with mine as a type of foreplay, and he likes me to play with his as part of post-coital cuddles. We pulled up at my house, straight in, no fuss, clothes off. Yes, that quickly, like lightning. I do manage to get a bit of oral though. The moment his mouth touched my already swelling lips…well, it was like ecstacy. It was like I had never had it before, as I had been fantasising about this since the last time I saw him.
Foreplay on his part was non existant: he wanted me now. So he took me. His cock replaced his mouth and he slid his length into me, stretching me in the most pleasurable way. As he rocked inbetween my legs, the orgasm was building for both of us, and as we locked lips, I felt him shudder as he came, which was what I needed to tip me over the crest of the wave and come myself.
Unfortunetly, cuddles were cut shorts. As he pulled out, we discovered there was blood everywhere. I started to panic, wondering what the hell was wrong with me this time when I realised it was William bleeding:
“I thought it hurt a bit when we were doing it, but I decided to just keep going”, he said, trying to clean up the blood. He had ripped his frenulum, which was bleeding ferociously. I told him to go and have a shower and clean up, while I sorted out the bed linen and put it to the wash. Fortunetly, the rip didn’ seem too big, and we hoped it wold heal soon, as one orgasm for 8 days apart isn’t really enough!
William still wanted sex though: in bed later that night he was pulling his best moves on me, but I honestly felt so guilty about the whole thing I turned him down. What if it started again? I told him it was best to wait until it was healed completely until we tried again.
But morning light came, as did out need to work on our orgasm tally. How would we resolve this?
“You could always rub yourself and I could watch?” he suggested. What an excellent idea. I didn’t need persuasion. I got to work straight away, building myself up, turned on by him rubbing himself in front of me.
As I came, he was grinning broadly, but still rubbing himself, somewhat more tenderly than usual. I asked him if he needed a hand (no pun jokes!). He got up, out of bed and stood before me, his cock right in front of my mouth. I circled the tip with my tongue and gripped the base with my hand and rubbed it tightly. I took as much of his length as I could into my mouth, and worked his cock, moving my mouth and my hand together in tandem until I felt his come hit the back of my mouth.
Then we had time for cuddles.
My gift to you
Yes, I know this is waaaaay overdue…but, y’know….been busy and stuff.
In the February edition of Scarlet, there was a cut-out-and-keep double page spread of promises one could make to their beloved on Valentine’s Day. Perfect, I thought: thrifty (well, you have to be in the current climate), a chance to show my creative side, and it’s technically a present for both of us.
So I cut out the pages and made them into little business card-like promises. I selected the ones I wanted, of course: I wasn’t particularly keen on the ‘I will call up my friend and we can indulge in a threesome’.
Even though I’d selected about 10 promises, I knew which one he would pick above the rest.
I made him close his eyes and sit on the bed. Opening the palm of one of his hands, I rested the pack of cards in his hand and told him to open his eyes. The look on his face was like a child at Christmas that has just opened the present he’d been wanting for months. He read all the cards thoroughly, still with a grin on his face, before saying “I’ve picked one”. Like I said, I knew which one it was going to be. I made him read it out.
“We will have a soapy shower together, and when I am ready, you will insert one finger into my sweet hole. When I am wet enough, I will get the lube and cover your cock in it before plunging it into my ass.”
Having him read this out made me want him so much, I was not satisfied with kissing his neck: I had to bite down on his neck and ears, whilst running my hands down his back, digging fingernails into his buttocks to pull him that little bit closer to me.
“I think we should have the shower after” he decided.
“That’s fine” I replied, as I was quite happy with the position he was in at the moment. I pulled him on top of me. The thought of what was to come had made him hard; so hard, in fact, it was almost painful as he rocked back and forth between my legs. The friction of our bodies rubbing against each other meant that, although still fully clothed, I was peaking towards orgasm already. Much biting and nail-clawing ensued, as I grew closer and closer to what I wanted. As I came, I gave out a moan, unstifled: I didn’t see why I should concern myself with what other people thought when I was experiencing something so utterly sexy.
As I lay, basking in my post-orgasmic glow, William was still unsatisfied: he started stripping my down, removing my items of clothing one by one, before helping me up out of bed to standing, where I was rewarded for my sheer laziness by a strong embrace, and a powerful kiss. Still relaxed from my orgasm, I was slow to remove his clothing, but his constant kissing, biting and nuzzling of my neck, and practically any flesh he could find, aroused me further. I remembered what he wanted to do to me, and this perked me up even more. I produced the bottle of lube as he put on the condom.
He started teasing me with lubed-up fingers from behind: as I was bent over my bed, with him behind me, I could feel his fingers move in and out of me, but it didn’t feel unpleasant. I was enjoying it, and wanted more. So William lubed up his cock, which was still painfully hard, and gently pushed into me. Unlike previous times when I’ve tried anal, I didn’t feel stuffed. This time, I felt relaxed and was actually enjoying it!
William reached round with one hand to rub my clit, sometimes dipping the tip of his fingers into my soaking wet pussy. He lifted me up, so I was standing up and pressed against him, still with him thrusting in and out of me. When neither of us could stand anymore, he told me to lie on the floor, on all fours, as he entered me from behind again. The forcefulness of his thrusts had me lying down completely, my moans this time stifled by the carpet, as he gave my arsehole the fucking of its life. This didn’t hurt, as he had lubed up well beforehand. But neither did it make me come. This was slightly disappointing, but as William came himself, I was satisfied that he was satisfied. I was happy we had managed to do anal without me protesting that it hurt too much. And there’s always next time!
We lay on the floor of my room, him on top of me, for some time while we both caught our breathe back. He pulled out of me and disposed of the condom, and I planted small kisses running up from his neck to his lips.
“Shower?” I asked, as my arse was covered in lube, and we were both a little hot and bothered.
I have to say, I think the shower was the most romantic part of the night: giving each other a scrub down with nice smelling shower gel, washing each others hair, and then finally washing away the soap suds by holding each other and kissing underneath the shower.
Not quite a tropical waterfall, but it’s good enough for us.
Random conversation
Me: “So what do you need to get from the shops?”
William: “Alcohol, milk and cereal. How many kids do you want?”
Me: @$?!
No, haven’t told him. But one of my friends found out she is pregnant this week, which led to a whole conversation of us having children one day, and what would happen if I became pregnant within the next 3 years. I now know it was the right decision to not tell him, as he said he would flip if he found out if I was pregnant, as he wouldn’t know what to do.
Phew
The importance of getting checked out
This is my serious post; the ‘advice all women must follow’ post; the ‘never leave it too late’ post. And I don’t care if I gross men out. This needs to be said.
Women’s bodies are complicated things. Works of art in themselves, yes, they have power over men with just a wiggle of their hips. Men are fascinated by breasts. But what I’m going to talk about is of a serious nature and regards ‘that time of the month’.
If you’re like me, you view your period as an inconvenience: messy, annoying, and means no sex for a week. So when I discovered the Pill, aged 18, I was practically skipping. Here was an option to protect yourself against pregnancy and control your periods. Hell, if you went onto a POP you could continually take the Pill, and never have to deal with the monthly problem. All you had to do was follow the simple rules: still wear condoms to protect against STIs, and take it at the same time every day. I’m an organised person, what could go wrong?
So this is the option I picked. When I met William we both went for screenings to make sure we were clean before we stopped using condoms after a month or so. It somehow seemed polite, in a way, especially in this day and age, where advertisements are thrust down your throat, warning you about the consequences of unprotected sex. So when the tests came back negative, we were pleased, perhaps slightly smug, and discontinued with the use of condoms (except for when William wanted to last that little bit longer).
Now, do you remember the rules I told you? So one was fine to break. The other one isn’t.
My bad. One day, I can’t even remember when, I forgot to take it at my usual time. I spent an entire day at uni, finally getting home and had that sense of dread wash over me when I realised I forgot to take my pill. I was 11 hours late. I checked the information that comes as standard with contraception and it said I was most likely covered as long as I took it within 12 hours.
Now at some point in this window me and William had sex. Without a condom. I stupidly thought I’d be ok.
So, when I started to bleed a few weeks ago I was in shock. This was so inconvenient! And also unexpected: I hadn’t had a period in a long time. But I put up with it. I thought it was probably a blessing, as it made William so frustrated not to be able to have sex with me, that when I finally stopped a few days later, it resulted in a heavily passionate lovemaking session.
What I was not expecting was to start bleeding again 5 days later. But this time it was different. It was heavy, and it wasn’t like a normal period. The blood was clotted, and I could spent ages on the toilet and the flow would not stop (I told you this would be gross!). This continued for a few days before gradually diminishing in quantity, and finally finishing 7 days after it had started. But afterwards, I still wasn’t right down there. My discharge had changed, and was incredibly opaque and globular. It had what can only be described as having the same consistency as snot.
I had confided in one of my friends about how worried I was. Was it the pill? Was I having some sort of reaction to it? Did I need to change? She urged me to see someone while all this was going on, but in all honesty, I was scared. I decided to wait and see, and mentally arranged to go to the local family planning clinic to see what they thought.
What they thought was not what I expected: after explained my symptoms, they said that it sounded like I had had a miscarriage.
“Shit” I thought.
“That can’t be right, I didn’t even know I was pregnant!” I wanted a second opinion. And I got one. After giving me an examination to rule out a tear or polyps, she said the same thing. I wanted a third.
The third opinion was a doctor and one of the best in the area. He put it bluntly:
“Yes, it is possible that you have suffered a miscarriage, but being as it has been numerous days since the bleeding occurred, there is no way of knowing for certain. It could have also been a blip, just one of those things. I don’t we will ever know for certain what happened. All I can suggest is that you put it behind you”.
Que shock and a sleepless night.
I’m not upset. How can I be upset when I don’t know for certain it was a miscarriage? It wasn’t as if I knew I was pregnant in the first place. It’s shocking that perhaps I was careless enough to let this happen, and also enough to give myself a slap round the back of the head: if I’d have seen someone like my friend had suggested at that time, I might have a definite answer. But I don’t. So, what else can one do in this sort of situation? Move on.
But now I get to the point of my post.
To all women out there: you know your bodies better than anyone else, better than any man could (it’s true!). If something is not right, go sort it out. Don’t just hope it’ll go away. Don’t wait for tomorrow.
February
Looking at which positions me and William tried out this month, I have to say…it seems quite boring! I haven’t seen very well (I may write a post about it when I get a final outcome on what it actually is, as it’s something that’s an interest of mine), so that has knocked two weeks here and there last month out of our possible-sex-time. So the theme for this month seems to be variations on the missionary position: who’d have thought you could have variations on it? Well, here’s a few.
The half-pounder: good for him as he can thrust hard, and chances are he will come before you. But the higher the woman’s knees, the more pleasurable it is for her. Although I found, as lithe as I am, I couldn’t hold my knees up high (see picture below) for long!
This is the ‘You’ve Pulled!’ move, as with the woman’s legs wrapped around the man’s hips, she can pull him in closer. It’s a nice move, as it provides more contact of his body onto your clit, but my hips didn’t like this move and had to go back to the following move:
The Easy-Peasy: this is the original missionary position! An old favourite, one could say, as it is usually guaranteed to get you off. Although, I found that after a few mintues, I wanted to go back to something more adventurous:
The Hangover Cure: I don’t know why it’s called that but hey, this is a good move! Not particularly great for intimacy, as you feel like you’re pushig him away with your legs, but it does allow deep thrusting. And it’s a excellent position for anal sex, too.
William pointed out the other night that we haven’t had much ‘variety’ this month, and I have to agree with him. But flicking through my bible that is the book of sex moves, I can think of a few that are definitely adventurous for tonight!
