Posted by Lilly | 16 Comments

Darkroom

At the beginning of my sophomore year of college I worked for the school paper doing photography. Since I was the only one of the photographers with good darkroom experience, it was my domain. My escape. My quiet corner of darkness. I knew what I was doing in there, the chemicals didn’t bother me and I could be there for hours. Also at this time I was enjoying a brief period of the singleton life and having fun. Perhaps a little too much fun.

I actually had access to two different darkrooms on opposite ends of the campus. One in a standard classroom building, the other in the student union near the office for the paper. I had keys to these places but my access was limited to the hours of the buildings.

My darkroom didn’t have furniture really, nothing to sit on except for one classroom style chair. I never had time to sit when I was printing, anyways. My boytoy of the time accompanied me one night to the office and darkroom inside the student union building; I had wanted to quickly develop and print a few photos taken that evening. In the eerie darkness of the red room, he started teasing me while the third and final print was in the developer tray. One minute of kissing my neck. He stopped while I moved to the stop bath tray. 20 seconds of pinching my nipples. Fixer tray next, there he spent about 2 minutes kissing me. Finally, the wash, where he spent 4 minutes letting his hands roam and tease under my clothing. During all of this I couldn’t do anything – my hands had chemicals on them, and I couldn’t let the photo paper just sit there in tranquil liquids. As I hung the photo up to dry, he stripped down to nakedness. As I washed my hands thoroughly, he stripped me from the waist down. After my hands were dry I threw off my remaining clothes as quickly as I could because he was waiting for me. Sitting on the chair, condom already on, waiting for me to climb onto his lap and impale myself on his cock.

We no sooner started fucking before I remembered the time; a glance at his watch showed that it was 12:50 – the security guard would be around soon to check that this hallway and these offices were empty. Fine except for one thing – the light outside my darkroom door, visible if you peered into the glass door of the office. The light that clearly indicated that the darkroom was in use. The only way to shut off that light was to shut off my red safety light. I locked the door for good measure and slowly inched my way back to him. While it is visually appealing to see your naked partner’s body and face during sex, there is also something to be said for relying on quiet vocal cues and touching.

Shortly before 1am we heard the guard enter the outer office. Our hearts pounding, we ceased all movement and listened. Or rather, we tried to cease all movement. I started rocking on his lap, just barely. A marginal amount of stimulation, more tantric than anything else. We heard the guard walk to the door of the darkroom; his hands on my hips led me to increase my movements to be a little bit faster and a little bit deeper as the guard tried to turn the handle to darkroom. I held my breath, hoping the guard wouldn’t feel the need to use his keys and open the door. He didn’t. The sound of footsteps grew more distant until we heard the sound of the office door closing. Suddenly he roughly grasped my hips and started pistoning his hips, fucking me as hard and as fast as possible. The huge risk of getting caught tipped us both over the edge, fast.

Did I mention that when the Union closed, I had to be gone as well? You could get in pretty big trouble with campus security otherwise, plus the doors were locked. You couldn’t even get out without setting off the alarm.

We had 5 hours before the Union would be open again. In those 5 hours we fucked everywhere. We started off in the dark office; on the floor, on some editor’s desk. To be cute we each sat naked on the photocopier and copied our asses. Mine showed a portion of my pussy, just the slit but it was obvious what you were seeing (we had other things on our minds that night and ended up forgetting about these – they were found the next day. No, I never owned up to it). At some point we got dressed to leave the office area and hung out in one of the common areas where there were couches and chairs. We ended up fucking there, too. Always slightly paranoid with one ear listening for the sounds of a night guard. Around 4am we were laying on the floor behind a pool table, shadows covering us completely. We were tired but couldn’t keep our hands to ourselves. His fingers in my cunt, my hand wrapped around his cock, and a guard walking the hallway just 15 feet away with no wall to separate us. We slowed but we didn’t stop; neither did the guard.

At dawn we got dressed and plotted our escape so that the guard wouldn’t know we had been there all night. We got out safely and headed to the nearest dorm room where we slept the day away, tired and sore.

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Posted by Lilly | 10 Comments

Confessional: Breaking the Girl

It seems that my dominant side is never the most prevalent. But when it does come out to play….I feel ruthless. Bitch extraordinaire. I have not had any experience dominating a woman be it in person or virtually, but I’ve already discussed (here and with others) my desire to do so.

I also must point out that I’ve never been much of a fan of the humiliation aspect of D/s, either receiving or doling out. Something more sinister, however, has popped up inside of me lately and I am finding myself aroused by the strangest things. A few weeks ago, at a meeting at work for our new unit assignments, the group was asked to do the school-classroom bullshit of “stand up and tell us about yourself”. Let it be known that I hate this. I am not comfortable speaking in front of people, even in such a casual setting. So I felt for this girl, I really did. She appears to be younger than me; pretty in a cute and “I’m trying to look cool” way. Perhaps someone I might be friends with. From my vantage point behind her and to her right, I was able to glance at her occasionally. When she stood up to speak each time, I noticed that she blushed furiously. She did not stammer, she did not show any other outward signs of feeling awkward. But I thought that the blushing was very cute. I think, partly, because at first glance her body language, style, etc was more “I’m cooler than you and this is all so lame” – but oh, what do we have here….vulnerability. Shyness.

I have read erotica- male narrator, shy and blushing female subject – of the similar nature. The man is dominating, domineering, pushy and delighting in her awkwardness. Aware that beneath the fear and nervousness lies arousal. I did not want to be in the shoes of the female, no, I think I more wanted to be the aggressor.

In my past fantasies of dominating a woman, I was never alone. It was a threesome. Perhaps a shared toy between a dominant and I. Perhaps a shared toy between a submissive man and I. But always, he was involved. I might have had the reigns of control but he was active in it. The fantasy has changed, morphed or perhaps I just have another one. He doesn’t participate. Instead, he watches passively. An audience. Another element to heighten her embarrassment and shyness.

I’ll be ruthless, while the one who trained me watches with pride. I will show her precious size 6 little ass no fucking mercy. As she is bent in half in a standing-hogtied sort of way, her cunt is bared to me like a split peach. I can easily go from inflicting pain on her ass to her cunt.

But no….that only satisfies part of my desire. I wanna make her squirm. Blush. Cry. I want to break her.

I don’t want a slut who’s at ease with her sexuality. I don’t want a whore who’s been around this block a time or two. I want a girl who cringes when sex words roll off her tongue. I want to make her say cunt and clit and suck and nipple and fuck and I want her to blush while she says this stuff. Tease her with these words and the pain (the bittersweet raw pain) and the begging until she’s crying.

She enjoys it though. Beneath the blushing and the cringing and the crying and the whimpering and the pink-red skin from my slapping and flogging she is dripping wet and aroused beyond belief. And that’s why I’ll love it, that’s what will fuel me to dig deeper. Before I break her, before she’ll full-on beg to come all over my hand, I’ll torture her. I’ll have to. Leave her at the edge of her orgasm…..make her watch me get fucked (and loving it) from my Dom. Taunt her with my orgasm. It’s going to be hard for her to watch, her instinct will be to turn her head but I won’t let her.

I want to watch the boiling point of her arousal and humiliation come to a head and erupt. At my command, at my hand. I want to break her…..and laugh at her misery. An evil giggle, a demeaning chuckle.

I’ve got a few things/issues/grievances/hurts of late that I need to take out on some poor girl. I just need to find a suitable one. Now accepting applications….

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Posted by Lilly | 13 Comments

Real Live Sex

There is a downside to dating this girl. Oh yes, it’s not all perfection and light filled with endless hot sex! My partner gets teased a lot, sexually speaking of course. He reads this blog, and he takes half of the pictures. During the few weeks he was sick with a pretty bad chest cold, sex or just about anything that would raise his heart-rate too high was out of the question. Those photos for the oral fixation posts? Killed him. My devouring of the large bag of lollipops? He begged for mercy. Needless to say, he was um well….I’m sure you know.

The other night he finally declared he was well enough and I felt obligated to pull out all the stops.

I pulled him into a joint shower with me – what better way to get things heated up right quick than 2 wet soapy bodies in the very close quarters of an old-school tub/shower? I will admit to running my very sudsy shower poof over my breasts a little more than necessary.

(I like breasts as much as any heterosexual man, but I don’t get what it is about sudsy tits that makes men into drooling hornballs.)

In the bedroom I intended to work him up to an amazing orgasm. I put the leather mattress corners on the bed,  my leather wrist cuffs on him, and clipped him to the bed. If I’m going to be the best cocktease I can be,  his hands can’t have the opportunity to help things along. As the flat of my tongue ran firmly up the length of his cock, he gasped. When I stopped and held my tongue there at the edge just about to go over the top, with open lips poised to engulf him, he moaned. Seconds ticked by and still I did not move my mouth; unthinking he went to move his hands to my head but quickly remembered the restraints.

Rest assured I soon gave him what he wanted. I added in the Hitachi for a few minutes before I moved it under me. As I laid on my stomach sucking his cock, my pussy was grinding against the head of the Hitachi. He could hear the sound of the vibrator, he could see my ass moving as I fucked the vibrator and he could feel my moans around his cock as the vibrator drove me crazy. Which in turn drove him crazy. Soon, I found that the mattress corner restraints were failing as I felt his hand on my head. I gave in and removed the restraints. An enthusiastic blowjob became something more as his hands in my hair and at the back of my head took on a life of their own, controlling the speed of my mouth suctioning his cock and the depth to which I sucked it into my mouth.

Soon, I climbed on top and sank down onto his cock, an act made easy by my soaking wet cunt. I brought the Hitachi to rest snugly against my clit and the base of his cock and I slowly rocked my hips back and forth, in circles, up an down. Within a minute I shuddered screamed and collapsed in a huge orgasm. The second I clicked off the Hitachi and threw it to the floor, he grabbed me by the waist, pulled me close to his chest and started to roll us with his cock still inside of me. It’s a move he does often, not wanting to break contact while we change positions so that he can fuck me hard.

I need to interject here and explain something. We have a unique bed situation. We couldn’t afford a king or queen sized bed, so we put to use the 2 matching twin bedframe sets he inherited. We used our own twin mattresses, and have the beds pushed together side by side. It’s actually worked out well, no chance of hogging the covers! He is accustomed to using something called a feather bed topper on his mattress, it’s underneath the fitted sheet. Every so often he has to re-center it, for some reason it likes to slide around a bit under there.

Back to our story.

And there is a point to this story. Sometimes readers assume that sexbloggers, with their trunks of toys, have sex lives that are better than most everyone else. Sure, my toys have led to better masturbation, have helped me further explore my sexuality, and have indeed made the sex I have better. But it’s not a porno. We’re not perfect sex goddesses.

He rolled us from my bed to his to continue fucking me. Pretty much as soon as my back is on his bed, I feel the discarded restraints under my back. His powerful roll combined with a slippery comforter and the featherbed topper hanging off the bed a bit resulted in…..the both of us sliding right off the bed to the floor. This wasn’t just a simple slide-off-the-bed, haha, lets-continue-fucking. Oh no.

You see, the dresser on his side is a mere 2 feet away from his bed. As we landed quite awkwardly, still me on bottom him on top, my kneecap (my bad knee) had a nice hard greeting with the dresser. I was bent funny. He says “Are you ok?” amidst the sound of glass bottles of cologne tumbling over on the dresser. Loudly.

“Owwwww no……getoffme!”

We unwedged ourselves from the spot and got back into bed to nurse our wounds. It wasn’t anybody’s fault, but I felt bad he didn’t get relief for his um discomfort. He felt bad for me crashing and hurting my knee. After a few minutes of laying there, I started to giggle. I couldn’t help it. It was pretty comical. I usually wonder if our neighbors can hear us fucking; boy that night I really wondered if they heard the fall and what they thought.

A day in the life of real sex.

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Posted by Lilly | 6 Comments

Delicious Reminder

I know that most women envy a thing or two about the male body. The ability to pee upright and anywhere you please is the first that comes to mind! But as a woman I am fairly certain we have this one all to ourselves – the delicious next-day reminder of a good fuck in the form of a tender, raw cunt.

I might wince in pain now and then the next day, but it can be such an erotic thing……because everytime I sit I have the harsh reminder of the screamingly-good pounding I had the day before. And I don’t think you men have that “problem” at all, do you?

Reminders come in many forms and for me it is very erotic to see the various markings on my body for the next few days. Things like bruises, scratches, etc. These linger but are usually covered up by clothing and so while they are lovely and longer-lasting, they do not serve as a constant reminder quite like a well-used/abused cunt.

The soreness is enough to keep me at a simmer (at the least) all day even though it is not to my benefit to be so……for a repeat performance so soon could very well tip the pleasure-pain scale in the wrong direction. And there’s the rub (no pun intended….kinda). Every other move gives a jolt of arousal. I am kept wet and wanting for the whole next day. But yet I can’t do anything about it…..

I could be wrong but I think that perhaps, sometime soon-ish, I will be finding myself in just this sort of situation but to an extreme I’ve not yet experienced. I anticipate the whole encounter greatly and with much erotic longing, but I also look forward to the following days filled with delicious reminders.

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Posted by Lilly | 11 Comments

Fuck Me With My Shoes On

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I am face down, modified doggy-style. My forehead presses to the mattress as he roughly fucks me from behind. My ass pointed up, I’m on my knees and my feet are pointing skyward. He uses the heels as handles. He holds them, holding me apart, keeping me stationary – for his use.

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For being as femme as I am, I have a confession:

I don’t wear sexy shoes.

I know I know, it ruined a little bit of the fantasy for ya huh? Yeah…Trust me I really WANT to wear sexy shoes. Really, I do. I have a condition that affects the tendons that run the bottom of my feet, and so being on my feet after a few hours even in the most comfortable shoes renders me in severe pain. Plus my front is wide, my heel is narrow, and my arch is partially fallen. LOL, man I’m a mess huh??

For the NYC-sexblogger party though, I felt this need for sexy shoes. I was in NYC, at a party, with an ass-ton of sexy beautiful women!! Of course I had to have better shoes! I tried and tried, but I just couldn’t pull off heels. I got a great pair but after a mere 15 minutes standing in them at home, I was in agony. Probably because I never wear anything with a heel! But then I found these hot pointy-toed flats that looked amazing. The color is truly perfect for me – glossy deep blood red. The perfect accent color to my mainstay of black clothing. And despite the fact that my feet were still in agony after a few hours and they don’t have a very long lifespan, they made me feel sexier wearing them. I’ve worn them out and about occasionally. Natt sweetly asked for a photo of my hot shoes, and you know I like to comply to such requests ;) I took a half dozen or so and emailed them off prior to this post writing itself.

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You might want to click, see if there’s another vantage point of these shoes…

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I am on my back, legs bent and my shod feet planted on the bed. Legs spread wide open, ready for him to feast. As he lays down on his stomach his hands go to my shoes but he does nothing. Just keeps his hands on the pointy heels. The reason is apparent as I finally reach a screaming orgasm and my legs begin to instinctively close – he has not stopped lavishing me and for the first brief moments it is painfully, exquisitely sensitive. His grip on my shoes helps to keep my legs apart, his access still granted.

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Someone in my recent sexual past waxed poetic one day about his great love for a woman wearing her heels and nothing else in bed during sex. I didn’t get it then.

Now, I do.

It’s like an accessory. With purpose.

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I found some that really get me going…..

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Again, I am on my back. But this time my shoes are my power. I plant my foot on his chest, the heel gently pressing into his flesh. He is on his knees and I instruct him to enter me – but just barely. Just the tip of his cock is allowed into my cunt. I slide my foot down a little bit until my heel is pressing into his stomach. Then into his lower abs an inch or two above the base of his cock. I move my pelvis just slightly…..the barest hint of friction to his cock. A whisper more of penetration. My eyes strip him away, my fingers drag over my lips, my breasts, my nipples. The look of sexual torment clouds his features….and he tries to fuck me imperceptibly – but I press the heel of my shoe into his abs. Firmly. The pain keeps him at bay, keeps him motionless as I still say nothing. Finally I drag my foot up, first one then the other until my ankles are resting on his shoulders. I cradle his head with my feet and pull him in to me….and he gasps as his cock finally gets buried to the hilt in silky hot wetness.

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