When he’d finished cumming, we both leapt from the bed. Cum doesn’t stay where it’s put very long in this house. If it’s not slurped up and swallowed, we both beeline for the bathroom to wash it off. As far as I’m concerned, cum’s great when it’s warm, and fresh from the spout, but when it starts to cool, it’s gag-worthy.

Luckily, Master agrees. Mostly because he’s a little OCD, and has issues with all sorts of things people aren’t ‘supposed to’ have issues with, but most of all, anything slimy, some things that are sticky, and pretty much everything that is considered ‘waste,’ bodily or otherwise.

There are a few exceptions, like the time he came all over me in that old cemetery we found, and made me leave it for the hike back to the car. Or the days that I just can’t be bothered to wash my hair, so I daub out as much as I can with a washcloth, and then leave the rest to dry.

In this case, the bed was drenched with cum and sweat and pussy, and that was all starting to cool, too. Just…ew. So when I was out of the shower, I yanked the sheets off the bed and put on fresh ones. Read more…

“Are you just enjoying your fingers on your clit more than anything tonight?”

He was watching me masturbate. Asking me questions. Making me crack open my skull and lay my fantasies bare for him.

Twice, he’d told me to put something in my cunt. Twice, I did as I was told. And twice, I’d eventually taken that something out, and gone back to massaging my clitoris.

“Well,” I said, stuffing down the mounting pleasure between my legs long enough to formulate a response. “Your fingers more than mine, but yes.”

My appetites go through phases. What kinds of stimulation I enjoy changes with the wind. One day, I won’t be able to get enough things inside of me fast enough or with enough force. The next, I don’t really want anything touching me that isn’t flesh. Right now, I’m all about fingers and lips and tongues and cocks. Silicone can’t compare. So thrusting my beloved Tantus in and out of my vagina was getting on my nerves.

Except when his fingers were working my clit. Read more…

tl;dr: The awesome Crista Anne is fighting depression with an #OrgasmQuest, and even Dr. Drew is intrigued.

That up there is an amazing lady named Crista Anne. She’s a mom of four. She wrestles with depression and social anxiety. She does battle with fibromyalgia and migraines. And though she has always been a very sexual creature, she finds herself on an orgasm quest to end anorgasmia.

Crista Anne was once described by sex educator Ashley Manta thusly:

“She was a vision in rainbow. Like Lisa Frank and Rainbow Brite had hot sex and Crista was the result.”

I can’t think of a better description. Read more…

We interrupt this Upworthy Sunday to answer a question we found in the search terms that brought you, dear reader, to this site.

The search question: Should a guy ask permission to cum in a girl?

The answer: ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY!!! Each and every time.

The reasons:

1. You should always ask permission before you do ANYTHING to another person’s body.
2. You are responsible for anything your sperm creates. If I had my way, that would include paying for treatment for STIs (and that goes both ways), but I dunno that we’ll ever get that passed. If you want a baby with the girl you’re having sex with, by all means, cum inside her. But make damn sure that’s what she wants too, first.
3. If you don’t ask first, you’re a piece of shit.

Consent for EVERYTHING. Learn it, live it, love it.

So I’m sitting on the couch, so engrossed in seed hunting on Amazon that I’m barely paying attention to the murder porn on TV. The show’s not even close to over. I figure I’ve got a few more minutes to decide which indeterminate tomatoes I want to grow. But Master turned to me and said, “Why don’t you go get in the shower?”

It’s late, so I know we’re not going anywhere. He wants me to wash up so he can make me all dirty again. It’s kinda his thing. Only this time, I’m gonna make me all dirty, too, because earlier in the day, I’d asked to use one of my toys.

Well, okay. “Asked” is giving me more credit than I deserve. I have a hard time with the asking, so I popped off an (I hoped) adorable little, “You should let me play with one of my toys, today,” complete with my head canted sideways and my knee swiveled in.

I shouldn’t be telling him what he should be doing, but this is actually an improvement. I started by masturbating without permission, then moved on to just not masturbating to avoid the humiliation of having to ask someone to pleasure myself. And in truth, the reason that I’m doing anything at all is because Master threatened to start throwing away toys if I didn’t. Starting with Tantus. For serious. Bastard. Read more…