Month: January 2017

The Experience

Summer was hot that year. Scorching and unapologetic, much like my new state of mind. Outwardly, I remained cloaked within the confines of social norms, but internally, I was a savage. It was my personal season of exploration and I ached to experience more.

For several months, I’d toyed with online dating.  I’d been pleasantly surprised on a few occasions and gravely disappointed by most of the others.  It was a random hodge-podge of men.  All ages with a host of diverse backgrounds.  They carried with them different baggage but mostly hummed the same tune.  It was exhausting.

Dates were always painful. The small-talk. The formality. The awkwardness. Hearing their story. Sharing my story. And then sitting there as they chatted on…inwardly doing a quick analysis to determine when the evening would end. I rarely showed who I was on these first meetings.  Sometimes, I would feel like taking them on a test drive, but usually the night ended with a fleeting kiss in the restaurant parking lot.

There were a select few whose online profiles roped me in (no pun intended).  Knowing what I wanted to explore, I sought out a certain “tone” the profile. I wanted a self-assured, intelligent man who was open-minded and a bit dark. I messaged with a few who turned out to be far too nice for me.  Then I received a message from a gentleman that intrigued me, so I perused his profile. There were dark undertones throughout.  I responded to his message with a playful tone and he responded accordingly. We chatted online for a few days when he closed one of his messages with a bold statement that demanded my attention…

“Tess, as much as I enjoy our chats, let’s cut the bullshit and be real because I sense something different in you.  I know you feel it in me. What do you want from all of this?”

I read the message several times prior to responding.  I knew who I was, but how do I express that to him.  What if he thinks I am perverse? Deviant? And then I grew a pair and thought…fuck it.  If he’s not into it…I will move on as I have every other time.

“If I am being authentic and real with you…I have just discovered that I enjoy pain, intense situations and I crave feeling vulnerable and exposed to my lover.  And yourself?”

“Thanks for your honesty.  I think we may be a good match…I am the beast that will tear you apart and put you back together again.  I have felt you were keeping this from me and I am glad we know who we are. I would like to take you to lunch next week.  When are you free?”

Free?  That’s an interesting concept. I decided to further my reveal and answer him in a figurative way.

“I am free when I am bound.  I am free when I push through my limits.  I am free when I relinquish control to one capable of taking me to the dark places in my soul. And I am free on Thursday.”

“How long is your lunch hour?”

“I only work a half-day this Thursday, so it can be as long as it needs to be.”

“Good. I will be see you then.”

Thursday arrived and we decided to have lunch at my place. It was rare that I had the house to myself and I wanted to do naughty, kinky things in my own bed.  At noon, my doorbell rang.  I answered to find him standing there with a dozen long-stemmed white roses.  He was tall and lean and much older than I’d realized  I knew he was retired, but age never came up in conversation, as it was irrelevant.  It was still irrelevant.

I went to the kitchen to put the flowers in water and to check on lunch.  I’d prepared a tomato quiche for us to eat and it was almost done.  After I pulled the quiche from the oven, he made his move towards me.

“I am not hungry for quiche, Tessa. I want you.  I want to devour you.”

I faced him and peering into his blue eyes I said, “Consume me.”

My clothes ended up in a trail between the kitchen and my bedroom. I was completely naked. He asked me to get on the bed, on all fours. I did and then I noticed something…I’d been distracted by the flowers at his arrival and neglected to see the bag he’d brought in with him.  I heard him unzip it and walk towards me.

“Put your ass up, Tess.  Expose yourself to me.”

I did as he instructed, expecting a repeat of what happened with the sadist.  Instead, I felt his warm mouth on my lips as he licked me from front to back. He had a firm grip on my hips as he went about his task with great fervor.  I felt myself edging towards an orgasm, and he placed no restrictions on me.  I came furiously in a fast frenzy of delight. He emerged and said, “Hold still.  We are about to try something new.”

I felt the sting of the wooden birch rod across my exposed backside and I liked it.  He followed the first blow with another…and another.  “Tessa, this is a birch, it’s like a form of caning.  Tell me how it feels.”

I was enjoying the sting of each blow and answered, “It hurts a little, but I like it. No broken skin, right?”

“No broken skin at all. But I am enjoying seeing the stripes on your ass.” And we carried on for a bit.  He changed it up with a newly purchased riding crop.  I LOVED the sting of the leather crop.  I moaned in delight with each blow.  I loved the sound of it.  The feel of the leather on my skin. My entire backside was hot from the taste of the crop. He reached up to finger my hole and said, “My god you are so wet. You are aroused pain, aren’t you?”

He was right.  My body didn’t lie…I loved it.  He rolled me over on my back and devoured my dripping wetness. His face glistened as he emerged to kiss my mouth. He’d remained dressed up to this point.  It was one of his kinks…me totally naked, him fully dressed.  It was sexy.

“After tasting you, I cannot wait to feel you.”

He removed his belt and looked at me with a sinister grin.  I was a bit scared that he would use the belt on me later, but he didn’t.  He undressed and stood before me. He was very (VERY) well-endowed and his large cock was almost too much for me.  Each time he pushed himself inside me, I felt like I would cum immediately.  He instructed me to tell him when I was close to an orgasm.  And I felt like I was there every few seconds.  He was slow and deliberate. Together, we devised an intimate rhythm. And the orgasms were incredible.  I noticed that he enjoyed watching my face as I climaxed as he carefully studied each expression.

“I love watching you cum for me.  Next time, I want you to concentrate on looking into my eyes when you have an orgasm. I want to see into your soul.”

He went on to explain his theory that when someone orgasms, they are at their most basic and honest self. They shed facades and expectations.  They revert back to a primal version of themselves. He wanted to look into my eyes as I revealed myself to him.

It was difficult for me, because that is a truly vulnerable place. But this was part of my journey, revealing myself in a vulnerable way.  He expertly compelled another orgasm and my gaze locked into his. I came unglued, but held my position.  He saw it all.  All of me…as my breath quickened and my body shook in ecstasy…my eyes held his.

We carried on in this fashion for what seemed like hours.  He positioned me as he pleased, having his way with my body. I was completely surrendered to him. I guess I could best describe our encounter as Tantric.  It was as much spiritual as it was sexual.

After several hours, we were spent. We shared my bed and talked about our experience together. He was a retired philosophy professor and I loved listening to his take on things.  He felt our connection was on a mystical level. And I would have to agree. It was a depth of physical/spiritual connection that I’d not had before.  Sure I’d been with lovers that I connected with, some I truly loved.  But this felt different.  As crazy as it sounds, it felt holy.

We parted ways on that hazy Thursday and we’ve never ventured into that realm again.  Distance and opportunity have been fleeting.  I am sure our stars will realign someday.  In the meantime, we are still close friends and confidants. He has proven to be one of my best friends giving me one of the best experiences I’ve ever had.

Once again, I was revealed as I searched for the enlightenment I craved.

gazing

No Turning Back

It was the summer of 2014 and I was on a journey to sexual freedom and enlightenment. I’d always been adventurous, but my tastes were evolving. I traveled this winding and treacherous road at full speed. The experience was exhilarating and terrifying. I could have taken a turn onto a safer road, or I could have slowed my speed.  Instead, I went faster. There was a deep, insatiable need to go further into the abyss.

And the sadist was happy to take me there. Into the darkness.

We spoke everyday after our first encounter. Sometimes we would talk for hours. Other days we would have brief chats. We were becoming close. I began to understand more about him and he learned more and more about me. He was in my head. I longed to see him again.  We made plans a couple of times, but life got in the way.

One Sunday morning I received a text, “Come to me. Today.”

I was surprised. I replied, “Where?”

“I will send you the info as soon as I check into the hotel.  I will see you around 4:00.  It will be close to where you are.  Make arrangements to stay over, if possible.”

That was a challenge.  With three kids, almost impossible.

I sent a response, “I will do my best to stay as long as I can. I am excited to see you…and a little scared.”

His response, “Don’t be scared. Same rules apply as last time with safewords. Text me when you have made arrangements.”

I called my babysitter and came up with a reason to be gone for several hours.  I knew an overnight was out of the question.  She agreed to come over at 3:00. I texted to let him know. I finished up everything I needed to do for the week (my typical Sunday routine) and readied myself for another session with the sadist.

At 3:30 I received a text, “Room 432, Marriott.  Be here by 4:15”

I felt nervous and yet relaxed as I drove to meet him.  I didn’t know what to expect from our second session, but I didn’t feel any real trepidation about meeting him again. I pulled into the parking garage and made my way up to his room.  I was wearing a black and white, body-hugging dress and strappy wedge sandals.  My skin was tan from a recent visit to the beach and I’d just had my hair highlighted. I’d straightened it, to change things up. I approached the room and as I knocked, he opened the door and snatched me into the room.

He stood behind me, pressing my face into the wall. His voice was strong and assertive, “I said, 4:15, slut.  It’s 4:17.  Turn around and face me.”

I peeled my face from the wall and faced him.  He looked agitated. I felt a sense of panic.  My voice was wobbly as I began to apologize, “I am sor..”

And before I could say the last syllable, I felt the sting of his open hand on my cheek.  I was shocked. I’d never been slapped in the face. And before I could mutter another word, he slapped my face again. Tears began streaming down my face as I tried to regain my composure.  My mind raced and I wanted to say my safeword, but I felt paralyzed by fear.

“Your tears are what I want. It’s so fucking sexy. Cry for me. Cry more for me.”

I was shaking in my skin, as I didn’t know what would come next.  I finally managed to verbalize a sentence and said, “I put no hitting in the face on my questionnaire. Why did you hit me like that?”

And holding my tear-stained face he looked into my eyes and grinned at me.  “You are so beautiful when you let yourself go. When you allow yourself to be vulnerable.”

I didn’t care what he thought because he violated my limits. “But I said not to hit me in the face. Please don’t do that again.”

He just smiled at me as he led me to the bed.  I questioned whether or not to go any further. I was so shaken by what had just happened that I did feel the trust I’d felt during our first meeting.  He could sense that I was on the brink of leaving.

“I know I should not have done that, and I sincerely apologize, Tess.  Your tears arouse me and I became too excited when I saw you.  I didn’t want to wait for you to give them to me. I wanted them now. Please forgive me.”

It seemed like a sincere apology so I reluctantly decided to stay.  He slowly undressed me, taking his time as he purposefully peeled off every piece of my clothing. He pulled my hair back as he removed my earrings and necklace. “I have some other ‘jewelry’ to put on you, Beautiful”  I stood naked in front of him and as he placed silver nipple clamps on my nipples. There was an adorned chain that connected them, and he gave it a tug to make sure it was secure.  He had me lie down on the bed placing the cuffs on my wrists, looping red silk rope through to tie my wrists to my ankles. “Open your legs wide and bend your knees up, so I can secure your ankle to your wrist.” The silk rope was soft on my skin and I was bound, open and exposed.  He tugged on the chain as he massaged my clit with the violet wand and again, I was not allowed to orgasm.  I held on for as long as I could and then begged for release.  He finally allowed me to cum.

He blindfolded me and I heard him rummaging through his bag for something.  Not being able to see what was coming added to the excitement.  Soon, I felt the sting of the flogger across my stomach as struck me and then tugged on the clamps. I was helpless and under his control when I heard a faint knock at the door. I panicked, “Who is that at the door? Cover me up please.”

I heard him snicker as he said, “There’s no need to cover you.  The fun is just getting started.”

I heard the door open and could tell someone had walked into the room.  Still blindfolded, I could not make out who it was.  Was it a man? A woman? Why were they here? I was naked, bound, blindfolded and helpless.  I didn’t hear any voices, but I heard what sounded like a wrapper being opened.

“Hurry up and get the condom on.  Fuck the hell out of her.  She wants it rough. She will love your big cock”

I felt every part of my being, freeze.  I was paralyzed with terror. What was happening?  I struggled to find my voice…to scream my safeword…and I couldn’t say anything.  I just lay there, motionless as I felt him push himself inside me.  I then felt someone sit on the bed beside me as I was being taken. I recognized the cologne, it was the sadist. “On the questionnaire, you expressed a real interest in being fucked by a stranger, didn’t you?” his voice was deep and breathy.  “Answer me, now.”

My mind raced as I began doing a mental review of all of my answers.  And it was true. I did have a stranger fantasy.  I managed to find my words, “Yes. I did.”

He moved in closer, hissing in my ear. “Indeed, you did. How does it feel to be fucked by a stranger, Tess? Is it what you wanted? Do you feel scared? Does it feel perverse? How does his cock feel? Talk to me.”

And with that, the terror of the situation began to dissolve.  It was true…I wanted to be taken by a stranger.  I wanted to feel fear.  “Please remove the blindfold and I will tell you everything.”

He pulled the blindfold away and I laid eyes on the man fucking me.  He was younger than I, in his late 20’s.  By his haircut and physique, he seemed military.  We stared into each others eyes as he sank into my wetness.  The sadist was growing impatient, “Talk. I want to know what you are thinking.”

My voice was sultry as I moaned with pleasure. “He feels good.  His cock fills me and I love that I don’t even know his name.  I am tied and helpless and he keeps fucking me as you watch us.”

He seemed pleased with my answer as he quipped at the young stranger, “Fuck her harder. I want to hear her scream.”

The stranger quickened his pace as he pushed further into me. I gasped as he pulled my hips into his, going even deeper. I was close to the edge and I felt the sadist’s hand on my throat.  His grip was strong and I felt myself fading…almost losing consciousness as he released his hold on me and pulled on the nipple clamps.  I moaned from the pain and he pulled again, and again.  The stranger was aroused by my sounds and in a matter of minutes we both exploded.

“You fucked her well.  Now get dressed and leave.” the sadist’s tone was direct.  The young man quickly dressed and walked out.  The sadist turned to me, “How are you, Tess?”

“I’m okay. I have finally calmed down a little, but that was beyond terrifying. Who was he?” I asked.

The sadist smiled and said, “He is someone who owes me a favor.  He is one of my students, in the physician’s assistant program. I knew you’d enjoy him.”

That was a relief. He wasn’t a total stranger and everything was safe. I said, “I did enjoy him, but my legs and wrists are beginning to hurt. Could you please loosen the ropes?” I knew it was a risk, asking him to untie me, but I was really sore. And if he didn’t, I was at the point of saying my safeword.

“Sure. I will loosen them.  In fact, I will take them off.  And then I am going to have my way with you, slut.” He untied me and had me roll over onto my stomach.  From under his pillow he retrieved that huge dildo he’d used on me the first time. “Remember this?” he grinned.

I tensed up as I didn’t know if I could withstand that in addition to what I’d just experienced.  “Yes. How could I forget?” I answered.

“I want to make sure you don’t forget. Open your legs.” I noticed that he had not used any lube, like he did before. I braced myself for the pain.  Instead of putting it in my ass, he pushed into my sore cunt. Pushing it all in with one stroke.  I screamed from the pain and the pleasure.

“Feels good doesn’t it?” he growled as he began to finger my ass.  “I am going to fuck your ass with my cock this time and you will take it until I tell you otherwise.  Got it? Both of your holes will be filled until you can’t take any more.  Don’t beg me to stop because I know how badly you want this.”

He was right. I wanted it all.  I wanted the pain. The torture.  The pleasure.  I wanted him to take it all from me.  The feeling was so intense that I cannot recall when or how we finished.  I think I may have passed out for a minute.  When I came to my senses again, my entire body was shaking and began to weep. It was too much to keep bottled up. I let it go again. Everything. I let it all go.

He held me in a warm embrace until I stopped shaking and came back to my center. I will never understand how an acutely intense sexual experience can purge so much from a person.  After I settled down, I felt energized and free.  I began to recognize that I released emotional pain when I experienced physical pain.  It was beautiful and powerful.

I didn’t linger there, as I needed to get home.  My mind was racing with questions, but I no longer felt confused by my feelings. Once again, I recognized who I was. Walking out of that room, I decided it was the last time I would ever see him. He served his purpose by helping me remove the mask.

And I have never looked back.

walking-away

(Photo credit, Pinterest)

 

 

The “M” Word

I awoke to the sound of a loud knock at the door. Room service. He had ordered enough food for five people and for a moment, I wondered if he planned to return.  But I knew he wouldn’t.  He was giving me space to process.

After what I’d experienced the night before, I should have been starving, almost ravenous.  But I wasn’t that hungry.  I felt sated…in a strange sort of way.  I noshed for a bit on the plates before me and then I ventured into the bathroom for a shower.

I stood there and looked in the mirror and outwardly, I didn’t really look any different. I felt different. I felt more aware. I was beginning to notice an outline of a small bruise on my neck when I noticed something on the counter by the sink. He had left me a note: “You will need to use ointment where you were punctured. After you shower, wipe down the areas with alcohol and use this Neosporin.  Do it for today and all will be well by tomorrow.”

He’d left me some alcohol wipes and packets of Neosporin.  I’d not even looked at my feet.  I sat on the side of the tub and examined them closely.  There were tiny scabs where the needles had been, but didn’t hurt when I touched them.  I got into the shower and began reflecting on the evening.  As I washed my body I was reminded of all that we did.  We were together for 8 hours.

Looking back, I reflected on some of the other things we did that I didn’t share in the other post.  He seemed to understand my need for fear, my need to feel vulnerable.  Prior to moving to the bedroom, he’d outlined my form with a large hunting knife.  He never broke the skin, but I could feel the point of the knife moving across my body…the cold steel again my warm flesh.  I know this sounds strange to many people, but I loved the feel.  It is not that I wanted to be cut, or hurt.  I liked the sensation of being that vulnerable. I liked that we were doing something taboo and dangerous.  I felt a level of arousal I’d never felt before.

I was lost in thought as shampoo began running in my eyes, snapping me back to reality.  I finished up my shower and got dressed.  Putting on my clothes, I remembered how his hands felt, how his body felt, how his breath felt in my ear, coaxing me, taunting me, reassuring me.  I put my hand on my neck and I was reminded of the moments he held me by the throat and how I loved that feeling. Had I always been this way?  Had this need for darkness been lying dormant in the recesses of my obsidian soul?

On the drive home I received a text from him, “Don’t forget. Text me when you get home. Be safe.” I didn’t know what to respond, or how to respond, or if I wanted to respond.  I drove in silence. No radio. No distraction other than the flood of thoughts vying for attention in my head.  When I pulled in to the garage, I instinctively texted him. “I am home.”

His reply, “Good.  I want you to send me an email of your thoughts about what we experienced.  You have until midnight to get it to me.  Be transparent. ”

I was a bit put off by this request, but I decided to do it.  Maybe writing it out will give me more perspective.  So I wrote him a missive from my vantage point and sent it to him.  He responded with his thoughts and a question, “when can I see you again?”

I didn’t answer.  I went to bed that night, sore and pensive.  I liked how I felt, but I was conflicted…it’s not “normal” to like pain.  It’s not “normal” to play with knives and needles.  It’s not “normal” to feel this way.  So I got up and emailed him.

“I don’t know when. I don’t even know if. I am trying to figure out who I am in all of this.”

And I went to sleep. Early in the morning I heard my phone ding.  I’d received an email…from him.

“You now know exactly who you are.  For once in your life, you know yourself.”  Initially I didn’t see it, but it was a new email, not a response.

The subject line consisted of one word, “Masochist

I’d been revealed.  He saw beneath the mask.  He knew who  I was.

And so did I.

the-mask

 

No Pain…No Gain

Usually when you see the words “no pain, no gain” it is about exercise, growth and discipline. In my case, it was quite literal.(Warning…this post may not be for everyone. It is intense and graphic and long.  Proceed with caution…)

During the Spring of 2014, I went on a quest for enlightenment. There was nothing taboo on my to-do list.  I wanted to explore.  I wanted to experience.  I wanted to feel alive again. I needed to be released from captivity.  I didn’t know where to start.  There were NO prospects at work.  Lee and I were still in contact, but I wanted someone new.  I wanted new experiences.  So I created an “Alt.com” account. (For those of you who aren’t familiar, Alt.com is a “dating” site for those who are into BDSM, and/or different kinks/fetishes)

And my inbox was inundated with enlightenment. About 100 messages later, I filtered out a couple of interesting propositions.  The one that really caught my attention was the sadist. He was unapologetic and direct. He was aroused by inflicting pain on his subjects. He did clarify that he did not go to extremes, but helped people release their most dark and deviant desires. I was reluctant but intrigued.  After all, I’d done just about everything on my sexual bucket list, many times over, so I felt that I needed to expand my perspective.

After talking and messaging for over a month, we agreed to meet one weekend.  I wanted to ensure my safety, so we exchanged pertinent information.  I verified his full name, address, date of birth, occupation, and had a friend run a background check on him.  Yes, I know…a bit overboard, but his check was clean and he was who he said he was.  My friend knew exactly where we were going and I was to check in after we met, so that she would know I was okay.  He lived about an hour from me, and reserved a hotel suite for our adventures. I liked that we were meeting in a neutral location. It gave me an added sense of security.  It made me feel  like I wouldn’t end up in the bottom of a well with him screaming, “put the fucking lotion in the basket.” I also liked that he sent me an actual questionnaire, regarding my limits and curiosities.  We reviewed it together in detail so we would be on the same page.  He knew my limits and he knew my kinks. And I had no idea what to expect.

I was to arrive in the room first and get ready for the evening.  He asked that I wear a black dress and heels. So I happily obliged and took my time getting ready.  I had no idea what I was preparing for, but I was giddy with anticipation. He knew I was nervous and asked me to go to the hotel bar for a drink, before he got there. I was almost finished with the third Cosmo when I received a text, “I am here. Come now.”

I tossed back the drink, cashed out and made my way to the room.  He was waiting at the door for me, with a large imposing black bag and a sadistic grin. I walked towards him realizing that there was still time to turn and run the other way. But instead, I walked with confidence and purpose, eager to release the demons that lurked deep within my bones.

“Hello, Kevin.  I am Tess.  Nice to meet you”

He had an imposing stature, tall and muscular.  He was dressed in black slacks and a black shirt. His sandy blonde hair was slightly messy and he smelled divine. “It’s nice to meet you, Tess.  Are you ready?” he asked as I put the card in the door.

I smiled and said, “I think so.” and with that he put his arm around my waist and walked me into the room, backing me up against the wall. He said, “Are you ready is a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question.  I need an answer now.  If you don’t want to go further, it’s okay. But I need to know NOW.”

He took the breath away from me. I was scared and aroused and I looked into his brown eyes and said, “The answer is yes.  Yes I am ready.”

“Good. What is the safeword we discussed?” he asked.

“Red is to stop.  Yellow to slow down.”

“Good girl.  Take off the dress.  Leave on the heels.”

I slowly unzipped my dress and let it fall to my feet.  I stared into his eyes as I removed my bra and eased my lacy black panties down my legs. I stood before him, completely naked, in heels.

He walked towards me and clutched my throat as he kissed me. “You are so beautifully sexy and vulnerable right now. I am going to fuck you till you can’t walk.  I am going to hurt you and allow to let go of yourself. On your knees, now.”

I fell to my knees and looked up at him.  He stroked my chin as he pulled his hard cock from his pants. “Suck until I tell you to stop.” he ordered.  I took him into my mouth as he pushed himself farther and farther, aggressively fucking my throat. It was a messy scene of saliva and tears with smeared lipstick and runny mascara, as he made my eyes water with every thrust.  “Your tears are sexy as hell. This is just the beginning. Stand up and put your hands on the table, spread your legs.”

He stood behind me and I could feel his hard cock on my body. He growled in my ear, “You are not allowed to cum, until I tell you.  Do you understand?”

I said, “Yes, I understand” and with that, he pushed my face down onto the table and began fucking me. He started massaging my clit while he fucked my hole and I felt myself beginning to climax.  I gritted my teeth and concentrated on not having an orgasm, but he would not stop. I was panicked because I didn’t know how to stop myself from going over the edge. I said, “I don’t know if I can stop. Please let me cum.”

He laughed and said, “No. You have to take it. If you cum, I will stop. I will leave. And we will not go any further.”

I didn’t want that to happen, as I wanted to push limits with him, so I regained composure and focused on taking his torment.  A few minutes later, he stopped and told me to grab a towel and get on the bed.  As I began walking towards the bedroom, he snapped, “Crawl to me, slut.” I still had my heels on and I clenched the towel with my teeth as I crawled to the bed.

“Very nice. Now give me your hands.” he swiftly placed leather cuffs on my wrists and tied me to the bed. I felt nervous by what was coming next when I heard the sound of him rummaging through his bag of tricks.  He pulled out several items and I felt a sense of terror as I heard him approach me. I was face down on the bed, with my hands tied and I could not see what was coming.

“Open your legs wide.” He felt the wetness of my cunt and began fingering me.  He abruptly stopped and then fingered my ass.  He stopped and I could hear him squirting lube on his fingers as he assaulted my tight hole again. He was preparing me for something and I was excited by what was coming next.

He walked towards my face and showed me what was coming next.  He was holding a large dildo in his hand.  He stroked my cheek with it and said, “I am about to fuck your ass with this huge, 11 inch dildo. You are going to take every inch of it, aren’t you?  Oh, it is going to hurt, isn’t it?”  I nodded.  “What’s your safeword, Tess?”

“Red to stop, yellow to slow down.” I said.  My heart was racing. He began to push the large instrument in my ass, slowly, twisting it to add to the torment.  He kept whispering, “Take it, Tess.  Take it all.” and ironically, I found the sound of his voice comforting.  I relaxed as he filled me. Once I’d taken the entire length of the dildo, he told me to hold it there.

He massaged my feet with one hand as he pushed the dildo into my ass in a slow rhythm. I loved the pain. I craved each thrust. I felt myself getting close to the edge, when he stopped to retrieve something from his bag.  I heard him open a package and then felt something cold on my foot, like an alcohol pad, between my toes.

“On your questionnaire, you had a strong curiosity about needle play.  I am about put needles between your toes, while I continue to violate your ass. So I will need you to be completely still.”

I shuddered at the thought and yet I felt aroused.  He showed me that each needle was sterile packed in an individual package (did I mention that he was physician’s assistant). He opened the space between my great toe and the other toe, wiped it down again and inserted a 25g needled in between my toes.  It was intoxicating.  The feeling of pressure, of penetration, of a slight prick of pain all while being ass-fucked was almost too much.  He kept at his work, and before long I had needles in both feet, a dildo in my ass and his cock in my hole.  He held my feet up as he fucked me, his body driving the dildo farther inside me.  I was so overcome with sensation that I began to come unglued.  I started to weep.  Not from the pain, but from the pleasure…from the release.

He was aroused by my tears and picked up the pace, savagely fucking me. “Tess, you are allowed to cum now.  Let go.  Let it go.” And with that I let go and had the most intense orgasm of my life. I gushed all over, the bed was soaked and so was my pillow, from where I’d been crying. He came immediately after and slowly removed the dildo from my ass and the needles from my toes.  He untied my wrists and removed the cuffs.  He turned me to face him.  I was still emotional from the experience.

Without a single word, he got a warm washcloth and wiped my tears.  He kissed my forehead as he began to clean me up. His touch was tender and affectionate.  He whispered in my ear, “You were amazing tonight.  You truly let yourself go.  How do you feel?’

My voice was shaky from the intensity of what had just happened.  Teary-eyed I looked at him and said, “I don’t know how I feel.  I feel confused, but I feel content.”

He scooped me up in his arms and held me as we drifted off to sleep. I awoke to him packing his bag.  He sat on the bed next to me. “You are probably going to feel some confusion over what you experienced tonight. I am here to talk to you whenever you need me. This is just the beginning of what we could do together.  If you want to explore more, I will be here.  If you don’t, that’s okay.  I will understand either way.  This is not for everyone.  But your response was beautiful and liberating. I do hope we can see each other again.”

And with that, he placed a bottle of water on the nightstand, tucked me into the covers like a child, kissed my forehead and left. A couple of minutes later I received a text, “room service comes at 7:30 with breakfast.  You need to eat something, Tess.  Text me when you get home.”

To be continued…

cuffs

(Photo credit, Pinterest)

One Hit Wonders-Hotel Atlanta

It was January 2004.  I’d been invited by my boss to accompany her to a conference in Atlanta.  Translation:  she needed a wingman/sidekick/bad girl to hang out with her at this boring 3-day conference.  I was happy to oblige. I enjoyed any opportunity to let my hair down and sow some oats.

Her name was Jane and she was simply beautiful. She had the facial structure of Angelina Jolie, with dark auburn hair. She was tall and statuesque. Men noticed her. And you put us together with my long dark wavy hair, full lips and hourglass body, and we caused quite a stir. On our first night there, we sat at the hotel bar chatting over happy hour drinks, when we were approached by two older gentlemen.  They sat down with us and struck up a conversation. Before long, we were having dinner with them. They were from Boston, there on business with large expense accounts and even larger…egos.  We grew tired of their posturing and excused ourselves soon after dinner.

We were both tired from the day’s events and retired to our room. Since I was not a paid attendee of the conference (I was just there for Jane) I had to share a room with her.  It was no big deal, as there were 2 queen beds and a bathroom mirror large enough to accommodate us both getting ready at the same time. It was all good. We put on our pajamas, cracked open a bottle of wine and had cocktail confessions. It was like a grown-up sleepover. We laughed and giggled for hours. Jane was just as wild as me.  We shared stories of our escapades, as we finished up the wine and moved on to a fresh new bottle of gin. We were both sauced when Jane spilled an entire drink on her bed.  It was soaked.

“Guess I will just have to bunk up with you tonight!” she exclaimed.  And we laughed and drank some more. It was approaching 2:00 am, when we finally ran out of mixer and decided to go to sleep. She and I said our good-nights and crawled into my bed.  I was beginning to dose off when I felt her hand on me. I had my back to her, but felt her playing with my hair. At first, I didn’t know what to do. I’d been with women at different times in my life, but it had been years…and this was my boss. I began thinking about how she would feel, how she would taste and I slowly rolled over to face her. She looked at me and stroked my face.

“You know me spilling that drink was no accident, don’t you? I’ve wanted you since I hired you. But I don’t want you to do anything that would make you uncomfortable. I just want you to know the door is open.”

And without thought, or hesitation, I leaned over and kissed her soft mouth. I don’t remember the specifics, but I do remember that we flung off the covers and sat up in the middle of the bed kissing while we undressed each other. She pulled me into her body, facing me away from her as she massaged my spot, making me cum almost immediately. I could not wait to taste her as I opened her legs and found that she was dripping wet with anticipation. I made her wait for it, teasing her by kissing her inner thighs, avoiding her sweet cunt, until she could not stand it any longer.  We fucked all night.  No inhibitions. No limits. Insatiable.  We finally collapsed as the sun rose, getting about 2 hours of sleep before we had to wake up. I heard her in the shower when I shuffled into the bathroom for a drink of water.

“Good morning, you.” she said from behind the shower curtain, “how did you sleep?”

“I didn’t get much sleep, but I feel rested,” I replied.

“Yeah, me too.” she snickered.  She soon made her way out of the shower and I jumped in.  We went about our day as if nothing had happened.  There was no awkwardness.  No shame. No difference in how we were than before it happened. I was glad.  I didn’t want there to be any strangeness.

That evening she had made plans for us to go to a local night spot for dancing.  We ate a quick dinner and hopped a cab to the club.  We danced for hours.  She found a “friend” and went back to his place.  He was a strapping young lad and I knew she was in for a good time.  I’d met a few fellas, but no one that really interested me, so I went back to the hotel. As the cab approached the door to the lobby, a man that was standing out front opened my door, “Good evening.  Let me help you out.”

I smiled and said, “Thank you. And they say chivalry is dead.”

He said, “I am proof that is not true. Let me show you.  Come have a drink with me.”

And I thought…what the hell.  Why not?

Over some very dirty Martini’s I found out he was from Ohio and was attending the same conference that we were. He mentioned seeing me during one of the workshops and wanting to ask me to dinner, but not having the opportunity.  He was nice looking and smart.  And married, like me.  He was charming and I’d already made up my mind to fuck him senseless before the night was over.

After several drinks, I excused myself for the evening.  He insisted on walking me to my room.  I knew the routine…we would kiss…our clothes would end up in a pile on the floor….we would fuck…he would leave and that would be that.  But when we got to my room, he froze.  No kiss.  No move.  Nothing.  I didn’t make a move either, I was expecting him to.  Before I knew it, he was walking away to his room.  I shrugged it off.  I would have liked to have had wild, crazy sex with a stranger, but if it was not in the cards…that was okay too.

I had just gotten undressed when I heard a tap at the door.  I peered out of the peep hole and saw him standing there.  I answered the door with nothing on but a towel, wondering if he had finally gotten up the nerve to seal the deal.  He saw me standing there barely covered and it was on.

We kissed as we made our way to the bed.  I still had the towel on, but he reached up and pulled it off of me. I began taking off his shirt and pants.  When I pulled down his boxer briefs, I was in shock. I was not expecting him to be packing.  He seemed so unsure of himself. But this fella was hung like Seabiscuit.  I was in awe.  Regardless if he had skills or not, I knew exactly what to do with that.  I could not wait to have him inside me.

After he fumbled with the condom, I finally got my wish.  His cock was so large that I felt a tinge of pain as he pushed himself inside. I loved it. He wasn’t aggressive enough for me, so I took the lead and mounted him. I don’t remember how many times I came, but I loved fucking him.  After a couple of rounds, he got dressed and left, just as Jane came in.  I told her about him and she told me about her night.  She’d had a great time with a young cowboy.  He was not as well endowed as my guest, but she had lots of fun.

And although her bed was in pristine condition, no drinks spilled on it that night, she chose to sleep with me. We didn’t do anything but sleep…tangled up and naked, both of us sated. The morning came and we were back to business as usual.  We maintained a great working friendship and never crossed that line again.  And although we work in different states, we are still friends, and Jane is just as beautiful.

jane

(Photo credit, Pinterest)

If Only For One Night…

September, 2002.  I don’t recall ever being as focused and productive in my life. I took on the challenges of each new day like a badass mercenary. I was unstoppable. It did not matter what came up at work or at home, I was up for it. The way I saw it, each new day brought me closer to the big day.

The day Courtney and I would cross our own boundaries into our magical place of refuge…each other.

The anticipation was killing me.  I found myself answering my work phone on the first ring in hopes of hearing his voice…of knowing the specifics of the plan. I got my wish a few days before the big day…he called with details.

“We have a suite at the Riverfront Marriott on Monday the 23rd.  I will arrive early in the day for meetings.  You come over when you can.  There will be an envelope for you at the front desk.” he paused, “but get there as soon as you can, I want as much time as I can have with you.”

I was speechless.  It was happening.  It was really happening….I had no reservations about crossing the threshold of infidelity.  I’d already darkened the door to the other side many times over with Greg at work.  But this was Courtney.  This was different…this was the love of my life.  I didn’t know if I could I ever walk away from him again.

“Hello?  Tess are you there?” he asked

I quickly responded, “Yes!  Yes I am here.  Just thinking.  Taking it all in…that’s all.”

“Are you having second thoughts?” he asked.

“No” I replied.  “Not at all.  I can’t wait to see you.  I do worry that I may not be able to walk away again.”

“Tessa, we will be fine.  We can handle this.  If it gets too much, I will be the one to stop it before it goes there. I’ve got us. Okay?”

That made me feel better.  I’d always been the one to shut it down.  I’d been the one to walk away.  I felt safe knowing he would take care of us…that I didn’t have to.

I’d been planning my fake out-of-town meeting for a week  before my husband took notice.  I told him over dinner one night and then casually brought it up again a few days later.  He seemed uninterested and asked if he needed to pick up our son. As I was about to answer, he said, “So you’ll be gone on the 23rd? Overnight?”

“Yes.  Remember?  I told you last week.  There’s a training in Savannah on Tuesday, I will have to go down there on Monday evening.”

He looked irritated, “That’s not going to work, Tess.  Remember, I have my safety conference in Boulder that week. Someone needs to be here for Nick.  Your parents hate driving on this side of town, so you need to stay. I am not cancelling my plane reservation last minute. Maybe you can do the training another time.”

I felt like I’d be punched in the gut.  All of the air was sucked out of my balloon. I nodded in agreement and made my way to the kitchen to wash the dishes when it hit me.  He will be gone for a week…in Colorado…halfway across the US.  I can still see Courtney.  I thought further…I will have Nick stay with his friend overnight and all will be as planned.  Hot Damn, Van Damme!  You can’t keep a good girl down.

The next day, when I spoke to Courtney, I told him about the near miss.  He chuckled, “we should cancel the hotel reservation and I should just come over to  your house.”

We were both silent as we pondered the scenario.  I laughed…then he laughed…then we were silent.  And then I said, “Sure. You should come over.”

And it was settled.  We decided to take it there…yes….there.  Nothing like peppering in more spice to an already volatile mixture.  I felt it was safe…John was flying out on Sunday morning and I would have verification he arrived long before Monday evening.  Courtney could park his car in the garage where it wouldn’t be seen.  We could actually “play house” in my house, doing all of the naughty things one should do at their domicile.

Monday arrived and I was calm.  Very calm.  I arranged for Nick to stay over at his friend’s house and made my way home from work.  Courtney was planning to come over around 8:00, when it was beginning to get dark, but not so late it would alert any of my curious neighbors.  I opened the garage about 7:50 and he arrived at 8:00 exactly.  I stood in the doorway to the kitchen as he got out of his car.

“So this is what coming home to you would feel like?” he muttered as he walked up the steps into the house.  He threw his overnight bag on the floor and took my face in his hands.  “A man could get used to this, you know?” and he overtook me with a kiss that made me stumble in my stance.

I took him on a tour of the house and we ended back in the kitchen, where I’d made us some appetizers to nosh on.  He made us both a drink and we stood there…staring at each other for the longest time.

“Are you sure about this, Tess?” he asked.  I nodded.  “Yes”

And with that affirmation, he pushed me up against the wall, pinning me with his body, unbuttoning my blouse, exposing my red lacy bra. Within seconds, my shirt was off…his shirt was off. Then my skirt.  His pants.  We stood there and admired each other.  I dropped to my knees and took him deep in my mouth.  His head fell back and he let out a loud groan.  He grasped my hair in his hands and pushed me into his body.

“My god you are amazing” he whispered as I continued to take him deep in my throat.  My knees were sore from the cold floor below and I didn’t care.  I wanted nothing more than to be with him…in that moment. I wanted him to feel immense pleasure.  After a few minutes he pulled me up to my feet and walked me into the bedroom.

He carefully guided me to the bed, opening my legs with his.  Softly kissing my breasts down to my navel and then to my sweet spot.  He held my legs open onto his shoulders as he made me cum over and over.  I had not had orgasms like that in years and I began losing my voice from screaming so loudly.  He rolled me over onto my stomach where he traced my spine with his tongue.  Over and over.  I almost came unglued.  It was beyond sensual and I was lost in him again.  It was like it was before, only better, more intense, more mature.

He pulled me up to my knees and pushed himself inside me, taking my breath away just as he did the first time we were together.  He filled me.  All of me.  We fell into a rhythm as we made love on my bed.  We fucked for hours in every way possible, making up for our eight year hiatus. In between orgasms we talked and spooned and dozed off.  He stroked my hair and told me about his life.  About his kids.  About his job.  I did the same.  Neither of us were miserable in our ascribed paths, but neither of us were really happy. .

We watched the sun rise that morning, as we did on our first night.   I made us a cup of coffee and we drank it, tangled up together in bed.  We took a shower and got ready for work.  I could barely walk and I was exhausted…but I was fulfilled.  Complete in a way that I’d not been in years…eight years to be exact.

I watched him leave from my driveway with a sense of longing.  I wished we could have made a life together, but maybe this is how it is supposed to be…maybe some things are too good, too intense. They burn at too high of a temperature.  Maybe this was the only way “we” could be “us”.

I’d not paid any attention to his CD.  Our evening was so incredible, that I was lost in him and had no recollection of the songs he’d put together for us.  I took it out of the stereo and popped into the car for my drive to work.  And as I pulled out of the driveway, “If Only for One Night” came on.

It was apparent that he finally understood what I’d figured out eight years before…we could never get it together to be together, but we would never be over.  Even if it were just one night at a time…with eight years in between…that was enough.

It was enough. If only for one night…

one-night

(Photo credit, Pinterest)

Suspended by Time and Space…

I apologize for my long absence.  I’ve been held captive.  Against my will (in a way even I don’t like).  Responsibility has had her long claws in me and I’ve not been able to break free for some time.  But with the hustle and bustle of the holiday season behind me, I have managed to escape to share more of my tawdry tales with you.

A couple of posts back I wrote about the first time I fell in love.  His name was Courtney and we had an incredibly hot, tumultuous relationship that lasted for almost a year. We loved fiercely.  We lived together. We broke up.  We got back together.  Repeat.  Over and over again.  After months apart, I decided another reconciliation was too much for my heart to handle.  But he called me one evening in December and I agreed to see him one last time.  It was Christmas Eve, 1994, and we planned to have lunch at one of our favorite restaurants. Since it had been months since we’d seen each other, I wanted to look especially hot for our date.  I wore a tight red sweater with a plunging neckline, a black pencil skirt with black thigh high tights and boots. I simply “forgot” to wear panties. My hair was long and wild.  I walked into the cafe and our eyes met.  That man always made me smile.  He hugged me and I felt whole again.  I knew we wouldn’t work…we had tried so many times before and failed, but it felt so good to be back in his arms.  Neither of us ate much, as we were captivated by each other’s presence.

After lunch, Courtney took me on a drive in his new Land Rover.  We visited a secluded park by the river.  It was empty, as most people were home for Christmas Eve.  Without words, without prompting, we both got out of the front and moved to the backseat.  He hiked up my skirt and opened my legs, revealing my lack of panties.  He grinned as he pulled my hips towards his mouth.  Almost instantly, he made me cum and I longed to have him inside me.  He pulled me on top of him and I straddled his hard cock as we gazed into each other’s eyes.  He brushed the hair back from my face and said, “I have missed you so much.  Let’s try this again.  I want you to move back in with me.  We will make it work this time.”

I looked into his eyes as he pushed himself deeper inside me. I wanted to say yes.  I wanted to be with him, but I knew we would fall apart again. I nuzzled in his neck and whispered, “I want nothing more, Courtney, but this will be our last time together.  I cannot go back.  We aren’t meant to be long-term.  We both know it.”

His eyes seemed to well-up for a moment as we continued to make love.  He knew I was right. We had an amazing afternoon together and soon it was time for me to go.  I had a date later that night and needed to get ready.  The guy was a smart, but boring, safe choice that I later married.  I felt sick as Courtney and I said our goodbyes, but I pulled it together and dressed for my date, all the while, thinking of the steamy afternoon.

As I mentioned, I married the man I saw later than night.  We never had the passion I shared with Courtney, but he was stable and easy to manage.  I grew bored early in the relationship, but focused my frustrations, putting more time into my career and then into being a mother.  I managed to stay on the straight and narrow for several years until a handsome co-worker lured me to the dark side.  Once I crossed that threshold, there was no going back.

One fall afternoon in 2002, I ran into Courtney’s mother at the hospital.  She was a nurse and I was there to see a patient for work.  We hugged and reminisced about days past.  She told me Courtney had finished school and was managing a region of dialysis clinics.  She said he was married with two daughters.  I smiled.  I was happy for him.  It sounded like he had found happiness. I told her to tell him, “hello” for me next time she talked with him, and we parted ways.

The next morning I received a call at work.  It was him.

“Hey Tessa, it’s me.” he said.  I knew his voice immediately.

“Courtney!  It’s so good to hear your voice.  How are you?” I replied

“I am better now that I know where you are.  I am coming to see you.  What are your lunch plans on Thursday?”

I felt a nervous tinge in my stomach…he always caused me to have butterflies.

“I’m, uh….free.  And you know I’m married, Courtney” I said.  Thinking back to our last lunch, I knew where things could go.

“Of course I know you’re married. It’s lunch, Tess.  Between good friends.” he assured me that it would just be lunch.  Nothing else.

“Okay.  Do you want me to meet you at the cafe?” I asked.

“No, I will pick you up at work, around noon.” he said.

“Okay, here’s the address.  It’s 21…” and he interrupted me…”I talked to my mother and then I called you…I do know where you are, Tess.  I will be there on Thursday. Can’t wait to see you!”

I was a ball of nerves for the rest of the day.  It was Tuesday.  I only had two days to prepare.  Thursday arrived and I got to work earlier than I’d ever been. I was so nervous.  So excited.  So curious to see how he looked.  Eager to breathe in his cologne.  I’d dressed to impress and paid careful attention to my hair and makeup.  I wanted to look good for him.  I wore a dark chocolate brown sweater that showed my form, with a sexy (but work appropriate) skirt and heels.  My hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail.  I looked professional and sexy.

I was completely distracted by his impending arrival. As the morning dragged on, my eyes were on the clock and then the door. Each time the door opened, I looked up from what I was doing to see if it was him, feeling disappointed when it was someone else.  At 11:45, I heard the door open and I looked up to see him walking in.

My heart stopped.  He was even more handsome than I’d remembered.  Tall.  Lean. Impeccably dressed.  He swaggered in with purpose, wearing a camel colored leather topcoat, a crisply ironed shirt and slacks.  He had grown a goatee and his thick hair was cropped short.  The receptionist was giddy as she greeted him.  She was smitten with his dashing looks and charm. She directed him to my office and before I knew it, we were locked in an embrace.  The embrace of an old friend, the familiarity of an old lover, the sensuality of a love suspended by time and space.

“You are beautiful, Tess.  Just stunning.  Motherhood agrees with you.” he said.  “You haven’t aged at all, you look amazing.”

I pulled back from him and gazed into his magical eyes.  “You look great, too.  So handsome and professional.  It is so good to see you.”

“Are you ready for lunch?” he asked, extending his hand to me.

“Yes!” I exclaimed, taking his strong hand in mine and following him out of the building.  He guided me to his car, a shiny black Porsche.

“You finally got your dream car!” I said, as he put me in the passenger seat.

“Yes, I did. And I love it! It took a long time to make it happen, but some things are worth the wait, you know?” he grinned.

We drove in silence to the cafe.  I was secretly hoping he would turn off on the road to that deserted park and that lunch would be “funch” instead.  But, as promised, we went to lunch. I could barely eat a bite, I was so excited to be with him.  He didn’t eat much of his meal either.  Mostly, we talked about what had happened in our lives for the last eight years.  He was in a convenient marriage, just like me.  He had two girls.  I had one son.  We compared notes on our careers and the conversation lagged.

He put his hand on mine, “I think of you every day. Every single day. I have missed you, Tess.”

“I think of you a lot too, Courtney.  But we both have commitments now and things are different.” I said. (I hated saying it, but I at least wanted to try to appear responsible and in control of myself)

“I know.  You are right.  I just wish we’d tried one more time.”

“Well, we didn’t.  And here we are.” Once again, I tried to stay on the right path.

“Here. We. Are.” he said, with a sly grin.  “I have to see you more often.  Even if it’s just for lunch. You are a part of me and I need to have you in my life.”

“Okay.  How do we do this?” I asked.  “How do we see each other, but keep a safe distance?”

“We don’t.  There’s no need for distance, Tess. We know where we are in our lives.  We can do this. We set our own rules and our own boundaries and agree to respect them.  What do you think…can we see each other sometime?”

I lost myself in his gaze and before I could stop myself, I nodded and said,  “Yes we can.”

He drove me back to the nursing center and walked me to my office.  Kissing me on the forehead, he whispered, “I will be back in 2 weeks.  Come up with a reason to be gone overnight…a meeting…a conference…something.  I will be in touch soon.”

And he walked out.

I was weak in the knees as I collapsed into the chair behind my desk, letting out a long sultry sigh.  Immediately, I fumbled through my calendar in anticipation of our reconciliation.  Which day would work best?  When will he call to let me know?  How will I manage an overnight?  My mind was going a hundred miles a minute when my office phone rang, bringing me back to reality.

“Hello, this is Tess.  How may I help you?” I answered.

“Make plans for the 22nd/23rd.  I will call you again soon,” he said. “It was great seeing you today.  Until next time, baby.”

As I put the phone down, I turned to that page in my calendar and circled the dates…grinning to myself.  It was going to happen.

(To be continued) 

the-date

(Photo credit, Pinterest)