Heartbreak Nymphomania
28Nov/092

Claiming (2/?): “Assume the position.”

These events took place circa. October 2009. Read part 1 here.

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Day #2

Two days later, on a typically doleful Monday, I was at work when Sir emailed me. He was at work, too, and was having a stressful day. He asked me if I was up to helping him "relieve himself." I agreed at once - both excited to see what was to come and glad to escape my own humdrum day, if just for a little while.

He asked if I had done anything to warrant a spanking, and I told him a few "bad" things I had done over the past few days. Slept through class. Behind on work. The usual transgressions. He said that I should take my academics more seriously, and then asked that I "assume the position": all fours, face down. He wanted me to feel vulnerable. I was familiar with how that position felt - it made me feel exposed - but tantalizingly so - imagining the gaze of my lover wandering down my body, taking in everything.

Sir started spanking me, again: harsh swats that stung and reddened up my skin. He built up a rhythm until he was happy with the hue of my behind, then soothed my burning skin with his hands.

At the library front desk, I bit my lip and shifted, suddenly uncomfortable in my seat. My eyes were fixed on the computer screen - utterly intent on it. I hoped that the head librarian wouldn't suddenly come by to fetch something, as she sometimes did, because I didn't want to interrupt our session by having to hurriedly minimize my email in order to hide it.

He resumed spanking me, letting his fingers land between my legs, moving on to heavier blows... I let him know how turned on I was, and imagined what I'd do if this was really happening - gasp, squeal, half-attempting to escape from his blows and half-arching towards his touch; wanting and detesting the mix of pleasure and pain at the same time.

By then, my work shift had come to an end and I had to leave to do some errands. I told Sir, and so we switched to text messages. It was so unbelievably hot to do something as mundane as stand in line to pick up some packages, but with my thumbs flying over the keypad of my cell-phone, attempting to settle my facial expression into a non-incriminating configuration that did not betray what I was doing, heat pooling at my clit...

Sir began probing me, pressing his fingers inside me as he continued landing slaps all over my behind. I was both embarrassed and intensely aroused, groaning, overwhelmed with sensations. He rocked his hand as I rocked back into him, then pulled his fingers out and rubbed my clit, using his other hand to pull my hair so my head snapped back uncomfortably.

And then he took his cock out, the cock that I had never seen but knew was thick and substantial, according to what he had told me, and that I knew would stretch and fill me wonderfully... He pulled my body towards him, sinking himself into me. I tried my muffle my moans until he asked me to stop... half-reluctantly I took my knuckles out of my mouth and let my moans and choking cries fill the room. He pounded into me until he was about to go over the edge... then pulled out just as he came, spurting his come all over my back, leaving me limp, shuddering, and sated...

The end of our tryst found me in the library again, this time getting ready to do some homework... but so wet, bothered and distracted that I could barely even focus on the readings in front of me; my mind filled with gorgeous, filthy images as a result of what had just happened between us.

But things did not end there - Sir had more in store for me: he wanted to stake a claim on me. It was early afternoon and the day still stretched on before us, and Sir gave me a list of things that he wanted me to accomplish before going to sleep.

To be continued...

22May/090

The Stage: Act 2

My second performance. Must have been fairly drunk by then because I can't remember everything exactly... feh.

"Perform with me!"

You haven't put your clothes back on from your last performance, and you're in the middle of dancing backstage, barefoot, in your underwear, with the rest of the membership, when the Emperor excitedly ambushes you.

You raise your eyebrows at him.

"What do you want to do? You have to give me a clear idea. I'm not going to go onstage and just... fumble around..."

"I don't know, you could strip me or something..."

Before you can say anything, a new song comes on and he walks down the runway, starts unbuttoning his shirt, then turns around, reaching his hand out towards you, unmistakably beckoning you to join him.

You shrug your shoulders - oh, what the hell - and step onto the stage for a second time as the crowd cheers.

You loosen his tie and coax it off over his head, push his shirt off his shoulders and toss it haphazardly to one side of the stage. Then comes the binder. Fuck, that thing is tight. "Just keep pulling," he says, and you do, coaxing it over his breasts, then off.

And he's pushing you to the floor, ghosting his lips down your body as you squirm - they want a show so they'll get it. When his mouth reaches your center, your back arches in earnest. All of a sudden, he's off you and pulling you back up. He keeps moving. Makes you keep moving. He's picking you up now - his strong, thick forearms must be tensing; why is that a turn on? On his first try, he hadn't gotten his balance quite right and almost falls backwards - "don't pick me up if you're going to drop me!" you yell - on his second try he's successful, and your arms wrap around his neck; legs around his waist. He holds you there and grinds against you.

You're dimly aware that a bunch of people have joined you on the runway when he puts you down. You face him, pull at his waistband, fumbling to undo his pants. Then you matter-of-factly yank them down to his ankles, and work your way back up his body, mouthing his crotch through his grey cotton boxers, closing your eyes and breathing in, continuing up between the valley of his breasts and finally giving in to the urge to kiss him. His hand comes up behind your head and you think of the crowd, there, watching you, watching your pleasure.

You hadn't kissed him for more than a few seconds and the music stops. Immediately, you jump off the stage and stand with the rest of the members. No music means no magic spell. You're starting to feel embarrassed but strangely pleased, hands coming up to cover your face. You can't believe you just did that. The fact that it was completely unplanned and honest just makes it that much more intimate, and your intimacy was just witnessed by at least a hundred fellow students...

He stays on the stage for a moment, heckling the DJ for ending the song too soon, and eventually jumps down as well. The music swells again as a new performance starts. He comes over to you and says, in your ear, "Why does this always happen?"

"What?" you asked, dazed, confused.

He takes your hand, pushes your palm against his boxers, and you can feel his softness through the thin material; feel the heat pooling there.

"I always get so turned on by you."

You can't do anything but lick your dry lips, swallow, and feel.

9May/092

Into the Woods

Or: why I love Zeta Mu (my fraternity) so much

So Zeta Mu (the gender neutral fraternity I'm a member of) does this termly thing where they reserve a cabin and a bunch of us truck on up there for a night of merrymaking. Last night was my first time going, and it was really nice - small, cosy group of people, beautiful temperature/surroundings, and a nice, low-key level of socializing.

At one point we all walked down to the nearby river and sat on a conveniently large, platform-shaped piece of rock. It was lovely: full moon covered by clouds, midnight-blue sky, the rush of water over rocks, and good company. Actually, it was the same place that I had really good outdoors-sex with K about a year ago now, and I smiled when I thought about it. Good memories, without a trace of bitterness.

It gets better. Somebody jokingly says 'skinny dipping' and, of course, K and his best friend are all over that idea, strip almost immediately, and run up the rocks a little to get into the water. I'm assuming it's too cold or whatever (um, the Northeast in the middle of the night?!) because they come back and announce that they've decided to peer-pressure the rest (8) of us to be naked with them.

Surprisingly, people start caving. It's kinda funny. I actually feel like being naked so I'm one of the earlier people to cave, until the only people left are two of the gay men who eventually give in as well.

It gets better still. After a bit of awkwardly standing around/exploring the area naked, we huddle in a circle to feel less cold, and then somebody suggests doing a bonding exercise that they learnt at X conference.

So we did. It involved doing kegel exercises and taking deep breaths, while at the same time letting out sounds if it felt right, while one or two of the 'leaders' went through a list of colors/peaceful images that we were supposed to focus on. By the end, it had built up into this big jumble of moans, grunts, contented sighs and giggles.

We were ten people of varying ethnicities, genders, sexual orientations. All of us had clearly imperfect bodies. None of the men had washboard abs, and weren't ripped in any sense. The girls were pretty heavy and had amazing boobs. The one girl who could be considered "thin" had no figure whatsoever. My breasts were clearly the tiniest out of everyone's. But the imperfections, the differences, were fascinating. Our bodies just... made sense.

We were ten people standing naked in the middle of the woods enjoying each other's closeness in a purely platonic, non-sexual manner.

And to think that two years ago, I was embarrassed about lounging about naked with my boyfriend after we had just had sex.

5May/093

Microfantasy Monday: Silence

I liked 2-weeks-ago's theme better so I'm going to be a deviant and go with that one - silence.

When his fingers enter you, he's rough and abrupt. You start to squeal because you didn't expect it - he'd barely even gotten your pants down - but his other hand clamps over your mouth. Hard.

"Mmmpff--"

He's shoved against your back, and you're face to face with a copy of Ernest Hemingway's The Sun Also Rises. You're in a particularly unused corner of the library stacks, but still. No noise here. No telling how many students are hidden against the walls, hunched over piles of research, just looking for a distraction. The air around you is tense; compressed.

You close your eyes and bite on his fingers slightly when a third, then fourth, finger enters your copiously dripping cunt, and his hand starts rocking into you...

30Nov/085

Windows

015

Lately, I've been masturbating with the window open.

The window is next to my bed. It's wide enough to cover most of the wall, and tall enough that its sill is almost level with my bedside. At night, when the blinds are up, the streetlights emit an ethereal glow into my dark room.

I touch myself late at night when my roommate isn't around. And sometimes when she is - but asleep. Often, it's so hot that I don't want to cover myself with my thin bedsheet.

I touch myself with my nightshirt pushed up and my panties pushed to the side. I lay on my back; my legs open and one knee bent. I play with my clit until I'm wet - sometimes I already am before I even begin. Usually I don't need to even finger myself. The phantom of a memory of another's cock or fingers pushing into me is enough.

I love it when cool breezes blow through the screen over my hot, wet center. Tantalizing.

I rub my clit and I sink into myself and imagine. That time in the Actor's room on a late summer's night (or early morning). He was lying on his back. I was straddling his hips, and he started touching me. Soon, my face was buried in his chest and my naked ass in the air; short skirt hiding nothing. His bed was directly opposite his bedroom window, and I liked to fancy that whoever walked past and happened to look into this particular second floor window would be gifted with a sight of my bent-over self, straining towards orgasm.

(Of course, nobody would have been out at that hour, and probably wouldn't have been able to see me even if they looked, but that's beside the point. A window is an eye. Or many eyes. A window is the possibility of being watched.)

I imagine what would happen if me and Christopher do what we had briefly talked about. I told him that the Actor often studied in a quiet little cubicle in the library stacks. This was the only cubicle I knew of that had a door, and a lock on the inside. An area that was practically made for library sex. And inside: a desk, a chair, and a window. That faced another wing of the library - a vast expanse of windows.

We would have to be quiet, we said. We would have to be quick, we said. Rely on the adrenalin-drenched, breathlessness of the situation.

There was always the floor, I said.

I imagine us, zip-lipped and fully dressed except for dropped pants. Me braced against the desk and him pushing into me. Clothes rustling.

Or us on the floor, him seated with me in his lap, pressed close. Almost uncomfortably.

When I come, it's with the deep breath of a person who has spent a long time underwater, and welcomes the sweet taste of air. My back arches, and for a few seconds my body is frozen as my muscles flutter.

And then I relax. My heartbeat slows back to normal, my eyes slide shut, I turn on to my side and fall asleep in minutes.

25Sep/083

Coming into Queerness – Toybox

Some updates: Recently, F (Phage) stumbled upon this blog, and I told Christopher about it, too. A bit relieved since now I don't have to worry about privacy issues, since he says writing about him is okay =) Edited Adventures in Digital 1 so it's slightly longer. Will also be internet-less until Sunday.

This post continued from here.

---

Being with K opened so many things up for me.

K helped me determine that I actually was pretty fucking queer. He helped me determine that I was - not bisexual, not heteroflexible - but pansexual. And he helped me realize just how attractive I found androgyny. (Not entirely a surprise, considering my high school celebrity crushes and fascination with pretty anime-boys...)

Being with K also lead to many 'firsts' as well. Walking back to the cabin at 3am for him to suddenly ask, "hey, do you want to swim in the river?", stripping down to nothing, and submerging my shivering body in the swirling water. Lounging and walking around his room naked, and being completely comfortable with my nakedness. Using sex toys.

Especially using sex toys.

Much like any other horny college-aged person, I masturbate. However - I pretty much only used my hands, the internets, and an active imagination. I didn't even do the grind-against-a-pillow thing until a couple months ago.

So one night, when K nonchalantly pulled out a box of dildos and strappy-looking things, I almost fell over.

He showed me how the wrist restraints worked; running belts through them and tying the belts in turn securely to other stationary items. Strap-on harness (I was extremely interested in the harness) and how the dildo fit; how there was a pocket at the back where a vibe could slide in. And then he grinned at me and said "For later... when we have more time."

"Later" came that weekend, when us and a couple of his other friends drove into the woods to spend the night at one of the college-owned cabins. The sun was setting by the time we got there. We (i.e. K, since the rest of us had no idea what we were doing) lit the oil-lamps, started a fire outside, and set some pasta down to cook on the stove inside the cabin.

The night is gorgeous and fun. The sky is full of stars, nothing is around us except the trees... and we sit around the fire and drink and talk and laugh for hours... K drums and we randomly sing Christian songs (for some reason me and K both know a ton. Yay for Christian families...).

The weed and the gin make me talkative and giggly and affectionate. If K's friends didn't know 'something was going on' between us, they definitely do now. I lean onto him, nuzzle him and kiss his cheek...

Eventually, I go inside for more booze or something, and K makes some excuse to come with me. We kiss, grope each other playfully and his hand ends up down the back of my jeans. "We'll have to find a way to sneak off later," he tells me.

Later. "Later" is when we're all about to go to sleep and K says that we want to go 'for a walk.' We walk with a flashlight. Everything looks (and feels) surreal. The flashlight gives everything a white glow and random details stand out to me in my hazy state - the bright white of a mushroom, the sensuous squish of mud on my now-bare feet. He leads me over rocks and tree roots and I hear the familiar rush of a river. I gingerly pick over the rocks on the bank and we find a smooth, flat surface. He has his messenger bag with him, pulls a towel out of it and lays it down. And then pulls out the strap-on.

I almost fall over again.

We mess around for a bit, and soon he asks if we can use the toy. I stall... nervous.

[K: *asking if I'd want it used on me or to use it on him*
[Me: Um... Probably on me, first, since I wouldn't know what to do... *secretly wants to use it on him but won't say*
[Him: What? You just have to do this a lot *makes humping motions*

I laugh at him and realize... he wants me to fuck him.

[Him: You might have to take your pants off for this...

He guides me through it, like he guided me over the rocks... He shows me how to pull it over my legs and adjust the straps so it fits. I decline the vibe. I don't want to be distracted. And then I'm on top of him, sliding a lubed hand into him. I want to get to it as soon as possible, before the nerves take over...

[Him: Whoa, hold on! You have to make love...

(Such a K thing to say ~ ) I guess I'm being too eager. I go back to kissing and rubbing him and soon I'm grasping the phallic object between my legs, this time, and lubing it up. The dildo is neon blue, and long, and thin, and zigzagged. It feels interesting sliding between my hands. Merely wearing the strap-on is an odd egostroke (and no, no penis envy, goddamnit!).

And then I'm easing into him; feeling the pressure give way as his lips part and let the dildo in; hearing him draw in a deep, satisfied breath. I find a purchase for my feet and knees and hands on the rock and start pumping. I move with my whole body - my legs, my pelvis. It's more complicated and difficult than I expected.

[Him: Listen, you can lay on top of me, you just need to move your hips...

I do that but the thrusts feel too shallow, so I move, move... trying to find the 'right' position. At some point he exclaims "oh, a shooting star!" and in my alcohol-addled mind, that's extremely funny, and I floomp on top of him and start laughing.

[Him: Hey... don't stop!

K's gasps and almost-joyful mantra of yes, yes, and the heady feeling of pumping into him are insane. They almost make me forget the soreness that's building up in my muscles. (Guys - I easily see how sex is such a workout for you, now. Whoa.) K can tell that I'm tired and he tells me to stop, and flips us so I'm laying down. Then he sinks down onto the dildo, and rides me.

I rest my hands on his hips and watch his body move in the scant starlight. Listen to him pant and gasp and murmer under his breath. Feel him come.

He lies on top of me. Asks if he's too heavy, but he isn't at all. His wiry body is slim and soft and he rests comfortably on top of me.

[Him: Did that turn you on?
[Me: ...Yes. Very. It's such a fucking... power trip!
[Him: *laughing* I know, right??

We talk more and he rolls off me. I take the harness off, and I fidget. Yes - I was extremely turned on by what we did. And I couldn't wait to do it again. But at the moment... I needed him to get me off. And I ask him. Hesitant and embarrassed.

[Him: Oh... you should have said something earlier!

(To me, the odd thing about K is that he's such a verbal and expressive person, but nonverbally seems to be a lot more restrained, and picks up on much less...)

He reaches into my underwear and has me coming in a matter of minutes, just by teasing my clit with his fingertips... didn't even have to pull my panties off. I gasp, and my body arches, and I clutch at him, digging my fingers into his shoulders.

We walk back to the cabin and share sleeping bags - using one as a 'sheet' and one as a 'blanket' and fall asleep coiled around each other.

The next day, after we get back to campus, I'm extremely happy and giddy... We spend the rest of the day together, as well. The day after, he leaves for his two-week long trip... and I'm left to process all that had happened. We had spent masses of time together throughout the short space of a week, and I had yet to determine what that meant.

He wouldn't use the dildo on me until he came back... or the wrist restraints. But more on that later, perhaps =)