V is for View


Or perhaps I am clutching at straws to complete the A to Z blogging challenge. I have been wanting to share the story of my recent:

Fuck with a View

And with the passing of April comes the Kink of the week prompt Outdoor sex. Sometimes it pays to be behind with my blogging plans.

Regular readers of my blog will know that I love to be outside in nature, exposing myself in beautiful or quirky places, and occasionally masturbating in private-public spaces. What I have experienced very little of is outdoor sex with a lover, being fucked in my favourite setting. Not through want of trying, but through lack of willing partners. Until very recently my most memorable was the first time I met M. There had been a scattering of thrilling encounters over the years which take a bit more recall, I imagine that is mainly due to the relative privacy, or the location, but all this was about to change. I was about to up my game!

Dartmoor is my happy place.

If I share my Dartmoor time with you then it is fairly obvious (to me) that you are a little ray of sunshine in my world, one of the trusted few. So when I suggested that we head up there after lunch one sunny Saturday afternoon I was clearly relaxed and happy. I had known him for a number of months, discussing anything and everything that came to mind between us. The first time we met for coffee I felt a frission of electricity with him, but he was a man I met through running and had no idea he may be interested or even kinky. Frankly I had no idea if I would be interested really, such is my attention span when it comes to men. But my friendship with RunnerJ developed in a way neither of us were expecting…

That Saturday afternoon I ended up walking barefoot along the bank of the Dart, enjoying the soft, cool mud beneath my feet and fresh air in my lungs. We paddled, held hands, held each other and eventually he kissed me. Biting gently on my lower lip in the way he had done previously. Straining to reach up for more I groaned into his embrace as he held my hair, preventing our lips from meeting. I could see his blue eyes glinting in the sunshine, reflecting the river behind me, I could smell the damp, peaty earth and the fresh green spring growth, but I couldn’t return his kisses and the frustration grew. With each stretch up the pulling in my scalp sent delicious tendrils of pain snaking own my body, I whined with need and tried to surupticiously rub my crotch on his jeans. Desire had taken over and my hands dropped from his strong back to knead his ass while I attempted to gain friction for my clit. Though he manouvered his leg for me to rub myself on it was not quite what I wanted and my hands strayed to his belt, while he resumed the kissing. My mind had started to go somewhere else at this point, I couldn’t figure out the buckle and he had to stop kissing me to show me how to unleash him. A quick glance up and down the river showed we were alone, and I dropped to my knees to take a closer look. I don’t know that I’m a size queen, but I do prefer a generously proportioned cock, and I was not disappointed.

Trailing my tongue down his shaft  enjoyed his scent as his erection continued to swell.

I wasn’t entirely sure how I would manage to take it all given how out of practise I was, and especially seeing the two piercings. I’d never enjoyed a pierced cock before, and didn’t want to embarrass myself by getting anything stuck or doing it wrong! As is my way I took a deep breath, and got started. He seemed very pleased with my attempts, and though I know I will be able to do better with practise he mentioned that deep-throat was new for him. I was soon in my hazy space that I arrive at during cock worship; I would call it subspace, but power exchange hasn’t come up in our time together. He offered to take me home, and explore my body with toys, spend time on me in a way that he thought I deserved. My mouth said “No, my house is a mess, I won’t feel comfortable having you there” but my brain was silently screaming “Fuck me now, please just fuck me right here on the river bank”

Five, ten, twenty minutes passed, who knows? My mouth continued to explore and tease him.

I was pulled to my feet and kisses were traced over my lips which were covered in precum. His hand found its way into my hot dripping cunt, removing his hand and looking at the fluid drenched digits he pushed them into my mouth to clean before kissing me deeply.

“What do you want, N?”

Fuuuuccckkkkk….. How do I answer that? I’m great at communicating before and after, but once the wheels are in motion colours and safewords are the only way I am able to communicate my needs. Normally…. but we had spoken about anything and everything, and I trust him with so much that….

“I want you to fuck me. Right here. Right now. In the sunshine. I want you to cum deep inside me, and I want to walk back to the car as your spunk tries to soak my thighs.”

He stopped, put himself away and he looked around. I’ve gone too far I thought I’ve scared him, oh god. I wish I could just get back on my knees and… “Right, put your shoes on. We are going up there,” pointing at a tor, a short walk away. I’ve never put shoes on so quickly in all of my life. Soon, with wobbly legs I floated up to the rocks, guided by his strong hand. He reclined on the rock and I knelt between his feet in the dirt, with the view of a beautiful man and sparkling scenery behind him. Two of my happy places rolled into one wonderful afternoon treat. All too soon he was removing my mouth from his straining cock and standing up, he helped me to my feet and I pulled my jeans down just enough. The spring sunshine cooler now that we were out of the valley, but my hot wet pussy was burning for him. As I bent forward over the rock, exposing myself to him, he filled me. Gently at first, building the pace steadily until his thrusts became more urgent. I unravelled around him. Beyond aroused through the prolonged cock worship, and blissfully happy in my most special of places I came hard, vocalising my pleasure, as he flooded me.

Once we were both able to move we reorganised our clothes and we stood in the sunshine wrapped in each others arms.

The intensity of our triste threatened to overwhelm me, and as the fibre of his jumper tickled my nose I felt tears of contentment prickle behind my eyelids. We spent a little more time enjoying each others company: walking, having a hot drink at a local pub and then heading to our own homes, all the while our lusty juices trying to escape from between my voluptuous lips. Not long after I got home he messaged to make sure I was back safely, telling me he could smell us on his drive home. The perfect end to a lovely day.

And a fuck with a view, to beat all of the other fucks I’ve had this year!

OK, it was the only fuck I’ve had this year with someone who isn’t me, but I’m damn good at what I do!

#AtoZChallenge 2019 Tenth Anniversary badge

V is for View was first published on A Leap of Faith.

An ebb and flow of interest and energy

The photographer is sitting on a shingle beach, watching the ebb and flow of the tide. Only their bare feet and ankles are visible in the shot.

Sex, when everything “works” is fantastic. Sadly however, even when the mind is willing, our bodies can let us down. Stress, tiredness, illness, having the cat jump on the bed as you are approaching climax (or is that one just me?) can all sometimes cause things to go awry and for the best and naughtiest of intentions to fall short of where we wanted them to take us.

So, this week, what we want to know is:

  • Have you had an experience where either you, or your partner just weren’t able to “follow through” with the mood? Is it something that happens regularly

  • How did you feel at the time?

  • How do you manage these situations? Are you ever able to get back “in the swing”? If so how?

When I was reading this prompt last friday I was at a loss about what to write. Could I have written about the many times my children have woken up as I am on the edge of an orgasm? Of course I could, however I love my children and parenting comes before pleasure… always. Plus, there is a sick and twisted part inside of me that loves the denied orgasm. Not indefinitely, but edging is a powerful kink for me. And I will take orgasm control any way I can get it.

Within reason.

With that in mind I thought it would be a good idea to lave the prompt alone for this week. But reading Twisted Bubbles’ post Dirty two sentences stood out for me and got me thinking.

I am a person who needs the other person involved, some way. While I have an amazing imagination it just isn’t enough for me.” 

I spent my marriage having one orgasm a month, maybe. When I first met Sir I said that was about my limit. Since exploring this further I have discovered the amazing ability my body has to cum repeatedly, to gush, to pulse. The variety of orgasms too, my mind was blown fairly early on. Acceptance of my body was not a given but my appreciation of it was never in doubt once it started revealing its secrets.

Imagine my disappointment when it.




It was around the time I was at my lowest point, while I was rebuilding my confidence post P. Single by choice, no play partners (other than myself) and all of a sudden my ability to orgasm tailed off. I still had the sexual desire, but I had no ummmffff behind my self-love. The peaks seemed to disappear and I was left with a comfort in my own low libido. I would waver between “Oh that feels nice, but that will do” to bouts of sheer frustration at my total inability to climax. Tears and despair. Would I ever reach the heady heights again? The techniques I had learnt for forcing orgasms out of myself were not working. My toys felt good, but didn’t get me off, no matter how much abuse I gave myself, or how much rest I allowed between attempts.

It was some deep reflection that led me to peace with my situation.

I knew that toys got me off usually, whether in my hands or a lovers. I knew that a skilled sexual partner would have no problem dragging moans from my lips. The smell of a man, the sound of his voice, the touch of his skin. All of the above combined to create a full picture of what was missing. Not just that though, I missed the cerebral side of Ds. Someone sliding into my skull and nestling in amongst the grey matter. Without a dark and twisted man stimulating my most sensitive erogenous zone my libido had gone into hibernation.

I had heard about the way kinks ebb and flow as we travel our deviant paths.

While I took some time to rebuild my emotional self, my subconscious seemed to understand that it was not kink but peace that I needed. Some time to settle down and relax into a new life, a bright new world instead of burying my head in the sand. Or, perhaps more appropriately, burying my rubber cock in my ass! When I was ready those channels of self-love and affirmation would open up again, I just needed some patience.

Over the months that followed I started to regain my sexuality.

I started to meet new men on fabswingers and began to enjoy their company. The smells I had been missing, and the feel of a man rather than a rubber cock, set the fuses burning again. It was only a matter of time before I was ready to explode. The lingering scent on my sheets, an aching and well used pussy and my Doxy gave me all of the ammunition I needed to regain my confidence. I still have the ebb and flow that  I believe we all have, but my dry spells are shorter and further between.



Proudly powered by WordPress | Theme: Baskerville 2 by Anders Noren.

Up ↑