Phone sex

Him: I’ll never let you win! Accept that I am superior.
Me: Nope, I’ll come up with some sort of appeal that says you’re cheating.
Him: That’ll never work.
Me: I’ll tie you to a chair and gag you.
Him: That’s called blackmail.
Me: I could bribe you. Everyone loves a bribe.
Him: Depends.
Me: On?
Him: How delicious the bribe is.
Me: Well we’re down to two options: money and sex.
Him: I don’t want money.
Me: Well that’s sorted then. But I suspect it’ll have to be to certain requirements. You won’t let me win for just anything.
Him: True. What do you suggest?
Me: A peck on the cheek?
Him: No deal.
Me: A kiss on the mouth?
Him: Hmmmm…still, no deal.
Me: A kiss below the belt?
Him: Getting better!
Me: Me, naked, on my knees, giving you head. Then, when I’m done, you can have your way with me. Does that sound good? Deal?
Him: Deal.

Sex update

I’ve been away with my coursemates on a ‘conference’.  I say conference, but it’s not the type you’ve probably got an image for in your head at the moment: basically, we were in the middle of nowhere, with no phone reception or internet, and made to talk about our current research to the rest of the department.

It was actually kind of fun.  Having no phone reception and internet meant I couldn’t be distracted, and I enjoyed time with my friend.  Maybe I enjoyed the time a little too much….

I had heard rumours that my coursemate, Bass Player, had liked me for a while.  But we’d been good friends, nothing more.  But being away in strange surroundings with nothing better to do can lead to all sorts of things.  Throw in the fact I’d received bad news about a family member dying whilst I was at the conference, and my emotions were all over the place: I was tired, drained, numb with shock, and had an overwhelming urge to go home.

The majority of my coursemates were drunk, which is a regular occurrence on conferences!  I was sitting by myself, in the dark, when I was stumbled upon by Bass Player.  He asked if I wanted to join the others, and I hesitantly got up from my comfy sofa where I was curled up and got up.  He led the way, and when we’d walked through the doors to the top of the stairs, he turned round and asked if I wanted a drink from the bar.  I politely shook my head, as alcohol really wouldn’t help my situation at that present time.  He brushed the hair out of my eyes and then quickly pecked a kiss on my lips. 

Completely stunned, I just stood there.  But what happened next was, I’d like to think, uncharacteristic of me: he kissed me again, this time for longer and more urgently, as if he was fitting in 9 months of fantasising about this moment into one point in time.  But I did not pull back.  I kissed back, and wound my arms around his torso, with my hands winding through his hair.

He pushed me against the wall, out of sight of prying eyes and pressed himself against me with, if it was possible, even more urgency.  His mouth found its way down to my neck, his hand entwined in my hair on one side of my head to prevent it lolling in the state of pleasure I was experiencing.

I haven’t wanted to feel a man’s touch so much for a long time.  Not even William’s.  I spread my legs, with him in-between them.  His hand snaked up my leg, around the curve of my bum, and under the back of my top.  Resting his hand in the small of my back he pulled me closer to him, as his mouth ventured further down.  His other hand was now free, leaving my head to rest against the wall.  His hand traced a path across my breasts, before pulling down my top to expose my bra.  His finger slid under the confines of my bra, to discover my nipples were hard and eager to be touched.  He complied by lifting my breast from its prison, and dipped his head to taste it: he circled my nipple with his tongue, before giving it a gentle nibble.  He continued to pleasure me in this way for a while, before tracing a line of kissed back up to my mouth.  I felt completely sated.

But his kisses left me wanting more, and the urgency and the speed we were kissing increased.  Tongues danced, teeth bit down harder on lips, breathing got heavier.  His hand moved from the small of my back to again trace a line up my leg, but this time, on the inside.  It was excruciatingly slow.  When he finally reached the spot between my legs, his touch, even though through my jeans, just made me moan.  He found my spot so quickly, and his fingers were truly skilled, as he had me working up to orgasm in no time.  I was holding on tight to him, my head buried in his shoulder, teeth biting down through his t-shirt to muffle the sounds of my pleasure.

It was just before I came that I made him stop.  Something switched on in my head, that even though I knew I had to end my relationship with William, I wasn’t that girl: I wouldn’t cheat on him.  In some eyes, I know it appears I already have.  But I knew if I came right there, it would be so much worse, and the guilt so much more than it already was. 

I asked him to stop.  At first he didn’t understand, thinking I meant I wanted to go somewhere more secluded for more than just a fondle in a doorway.  I explained to him that I couldn’t continue, that I felt guilty enough as it was, and that I wouldn’t continue this until I had done the right thing.  He didn’t seem to understand at first, but it eventually sank in.

I know some of you reading this will believe I am a bad person.  Go ahead, it’s ok.  But it made me realise that if I wanted to touch another man that much, and have him touch me in that way, and not think of William until I was nearly coming on his hands, then maybe I should wake up and smell the coffee.

Barry update

Also, on a completely different boyfriend now:

Is it wrong to be happy that Barry and his girlfriend have split up?  You may remember that Barry and I were due to meet up at the end of last year, and well….see how things went.  But then he ‘accidently’ acquired a girlfriend.

And now they’ve split up, because of the same reasons we split up.  This is rather encouraging, as now I have back-up claims to the ‘it isn’t me! I’m not a crap girlfriend!’ claim.

I do feel sorry for her, although I know she wouldn’t want pity.  I did genuinely hope, for her sake, Barry would get his arse in gear and work out what a relationship takes, and perhaps treat her better, especially after the way he treated me last October.

Shame, really.

Update

Me and William are on a break until the end of next week.

Pourquoi?

Well, primarily due to me being busy and him having exams, and also due to the new rules not working.  He is still blowing hot and cold with me, and taking his annoyance out on me.

It has also come to my attention that he is, in fact, only staying at this university to do his postgraduate degree because I’m here.  So when I expressed interest in completing the rest of my PhD elsewhere, he has actually gone ahead and applied to whatever college will have him in that city ‘just in case’.

I cannot be responsible for his future life and career like this!

The new rules

These are not strict rules that say what you can and cannot do, like the laws of the land.  More, guildlines for a relationship, specifically, William’s and mine.

Last night felt more like a booty call when I turned up at William’s at nearly 1am.  I choose to blame my friend who got me lost in town, and we spent our time looking for any road sign that mentioned where we wanted to be.  But it wasn’t a booty call, as we were both tired, and had to be up uber early in the morning.  That didn’t stop William wanting me.  It didn’t stop me wanting William.  But it did stop me wanting sex.  

The prospect of a semi-decent night’s sleep in times when my thesis is due for submission in 8 days was too alluring.  But William wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.  Many times he forced my hand down to his crotch, where there were no clothes restricting access, as he’d announced he was naked a few moments earlier.  I tried to pleasure him without actual penetrative sex, but it didn’t satisfy him, and he just kept pestering, until I decided to curl up in a ball on the edge of the bed, no pillow and minimal duvet, and go to sleep, ignoring him the best I could.

During sleep, we gravitated to our usual entwined position of sleep, but I had to wake up and remember why I was annoyed with him and pull away.  In the early morning light, I got up silently and left.

Phone calls a couple of hours later were an attempt to solve this problem: neither of us could wait until later this evening to sort it out, and it seemed silly to keep each other in suspense.

So the new rules are:

• To do more stuff together outside of the bedroom.  At the moment, it’s just sex and sleeping.  Pretty boring, and guaranteed to make one feel like nothing more than a fuck buddy,
• Try and forget about the fact we have thesis’s to do and hand in, and revision to do.
• I need to try and play with him more, and acknowledge the fact he, too, requires just as much attention as me during sex.
• William needs to acknowledge that when I say ‘not tonight, babe’ to sex, I mean it.  No emotional blackmail/pressure/forcing my hand down to hard on.

April

I know I’ve missed out March, but I don’t think we tried any new in that month.  We probably experimented with things we’d already tried, but nothing brand spanking new.

Last month, however, we did.  I can’t find a picture of this in my bible of positions, so I drew it.  It’s only a little sketch, please, no nominations for the Turner Prize:

I quite liked it!

Another new thing we tried: spanking.  William isn’t into spanking, or whipping, or anything that requires using force on a woman, as he thinks it’s mean.  I can see where he’s coming from, but just recently, he’s been giving me little taps on the bum when he’s taking me from behind.  The other night, he was doing this, until I shouted ‘harder!’ and he gave me an almighty slap, which made me come there and then.

It’ll be whips and paddles soon, I hope.

And it builds

I asked my friend a question today: is it bad to enjoy time away from your partner?

My friend replied: no, it’s fine, it’s when you stop enjoying time together that it’s bad.  Very wise man :p

Anyway, me and William have had a week apart due to his having exams, and me going home for a break from university, and also because it’s been a year since my nan died (can you believe it?!).  I’ve had lots to do, though, like catching up with friends, and taking part in extreme sports, besides spending time with the family.  But I’ve had a good time, and I’ve enjoyed the time on my own.

Of course, with William revising and sitting exams, the texts and phone calls haven’t been flowing as often as they usually do.  What was bad, though, was one day in the week I realised that I hadn’t heard from him all day….and I was ok with that.  I just waited for him to text me.  I wasn’t fussed about whether I heard from him or not.

To be honest, I don’t know what I’m trying to say in this post.  Am I just stressed with trying to do too many things at once, and William’s stress of exams and postgraduate applications are just adding to that?  Or have I, God forbid, stopped enjoying time with him?

What actually worried me enough to write this post was him texting me asking when he could see me next week so he could seduce me.  And I found myself thinking ‘it’s not that simple’, like he’s pissed me off somehow and he needs to make it up to me before I will have sex with him again.  But I don’t know what happened to make me feel like that.  I’ve been feeling out of the mood for sex for a couple of weeks now.  I don’t even want to masturbate, and I’m not missing sex.  I’m sure this is linked to how I’m feeling about William at the moment.  But I don’t know what’s brought it on.

So it builds up, as I feel guilty for being apprehensive, or even not feeling bothered, about spending the night together, and then rush to the mind set of ‘it isn’t working! End it now!’ when probably all it needs is me to spend time with him again.

Carpet burns

As a break from revision (for him) and horrible, horrible research (me), William and I decided to go to the theatre for the night.  We invited friends along to make it a nice outing.  It was thoroughly enjoyable, I think I’ve managed to convert William to the theatre now.  Next on the list is Shakespeare.

Anywho, we drove home, the conversation topic stayed mainly on the show.  When we got home, we closed the door and continued talking, and it was like one of those really soppy romantic rom-com movies, as we turned towards each other, moved a little closer together and then started kissing.  Just like two magnets.

So the clothes came off, an item at a time.  I dropped the keys I was holding to the floor, which made a loud ‘thud’.  Soon we were both standing in the middle of the room, completely naked.  I didn’t need to persuade him tonight: he got right down on his knees without a word from me and started licking.  It felt good, as we’d had a whole week without sex, which has been heightened over the weekend by the ‘no hanky panky’ rule laid down by the rents.

He pulled me down on top of him so I was sitting on his face.  I played with his hair as he grabbed my bum and pulled me forcefully onto his mouth even more, and moved me backwards and forwards over his tongue.  He even ventured into indulging me with a little rimming, but not for long, as his intentions ultimately lay elsewhere.

My bed was a mess (huge surprise for me), so we turned our attention to possible floor space.

He went on top first.  The friction between my back and the carpet wasn’t exactly nice…..but then again, I was having orgasms so I didn’t care!  He had slid into me in one stroke, I was so wet and ready for him.  My legs were intertwined with his, and as I experienced the crescendo before coming, I wrapped my arms around his waist so tightly, just to keep him in that spot that would guarantee my orgasm.

Without letting me come down from my dizzy high, he flipped me over: my legs ached from being spread apart, perhaps due to lack of practise.  It’s been a long time since we’ve gone a whole week without sex.  He slid into me once again from behind, one hand on my waist, the other on my back, pushing lightly to indicate me wanted me on the floor.  So there I was, bum in the air, my torso pressed to the floor.  I was slightly worried I’d get carpet burns on my breasts!

He leant over me and whispered ‘where do you want it?’

‘I don’t mind, I don’t care, make me come again, please!’

In response to this, he fucked me so hard, then suddenly withdrew, and then, basically, I gave him an arse-crack wank (if anyone has a better name for this, let me know): he rubbed his cock up and down the middle of my cheeks, before coming over my back.  I could feel the warmth of his come as it hit my skin, and I sighed, knowing that he was satisfied.

It wasn’t until after all this, William said: ‘Does your back hurt? It’s awfully red’….

Dinner topics

I’ve decided to post this tonight, whilst the conversation is fresh in my mind.  I was out with friends from uni (all 14 of us!  We were quite noisy) for dinner at quite a posh restaurant in town, and after a few bottles of wine, talk turned to bodily fliuds and whether we’d like to spit, swallow or have it on a body part.

The support for each option was divided amongst the group by each individual’s preference:

Swallow

• No mess
• It has protein in it, apparently, hence it is good for you
• It’d be rude not too.
• But some people said they didn’t like the taste.

Over face/other bodily part

• Kinkiness
• You don’t have to swallow, therefore, you don’t have to taste it
• Easy to just grab a baby wipe and clean it up, rather than, say, the carpet

Spit

• No swallowing (therefore no nasty tastes apparently)
• Nothing to clean up, just spit into the sink or bin
• But there is the problem of having semen in your mouth and having to get up and walk somewhere to dispose of it i.e. awkward.
• Bit rude maybe?

So I would like to hear your preferences, and your arguements for and against these options.  Or possibly if you have more options!

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.