V is for View

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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!


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

CAN’T DO IT!

Naked thigh with a lion tattoo tied into a futomomo with rainbow rope. Shared for the post Can't do it.
My beautifully bratty friend, as tied by me.

My brain was screaming loudly, though my mouth remained clamped shut. Silent.

Staring at the blank screen in front of me I had been counting down the hours until my deadline. That had now passed, words for the extension request almost failing me too. It was the worst case of block I have ever experienced and the cause of it was entirely unknown. The screaming continued, louder by the day. Drowning out every little piece of understanding that sat in the recesses of my brain. Strange how running quieted my grey matter brat. While thundering around the trails I could form sentences, prove my understanding and make headway with the words.

As soon as I sat down to that little screen the paragraphs evaporated.

They came eventually. Dribs and drabs of incoherent blathering. Not up to my normal standard, but technically I wouldn’t need to hand this one in to get a pass mark so I could afford this temporary glitch. Stretching back in my seat I growled. The frustration coming out in a growl of rage, my inner brat vocalising for the first time. With her voice came hot tears, burning at my eyes and clawing to get out. Angrily swiping them away with my sleeve I knocked the laptop with my elbow and brought up the internet browser.

Fuck It!!

As I’m here I’ll just have a quick look… 

My Xhamster login was automatic, and my favourites easy enough to pick through, to find exactly what was going to hit the spot. Hot tears dried and dormant folds began to heat and swell. Dropping my hands to my pussy, stroking gently in time the slaves hands as he stroked his mistresses clit. Delving into my inviting wet hole with more vigour than I’d realised I had in me while his colleague fucked her withe shiny black dildo gag. Climaxing with the Domme on the screen as her body was wracked with sensation, gushing over my cushioned chair as her mouth poured obscenities at those caged boys.

The brat was quiet, for the first time in a couple of days. Sated…

Maybe now the brat has cum the words will follow.

Can’t do it? Won’t do it, until she gets her way.

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Can’t do it! was first published on A Leap of Faith.

Acceptance for April

Black and white picture o two naked ladies making an asymmetric shape not dissimilar to an A. It is the main picture for Acceptance of April
Myself and Dr Lovelace captured by Dark Lion Photos

It seems that April is here, and so is the April A2Z blogging challenge. I saw others completing this last year and wished I’d known about it sooner, vowing to join in with the month long meme this year.

Unsurprisingly I had completely forgotten about it! But then I saw a scattering of posts yesterday, and thanked my lucky stars. So here I am, on April the first, diving headfirst into the words.

A is for Acceptance.

Not only acceptance of the blogging challenge, which I’m looking forward to.

It is acceptance of my need to plan. I have an alphabet of prompts in store, and if I hope to achieve the full list I won’t be able to blag my way through the workload.

But then, something else happened.

While flicking through my emails I saw this post by Molly Moore. And it reminded me of Tabitha Rayne’s 30 day orgasm fun. When this one came out last year I was mid-task which meant I couldn’t join in. However, this year… This Year! This is my year… And I have added it to my acceptance list for April.

And then there is acceptance that sometimes, ever so occasionally, life gets in the way and stops me from achieving things exactly when I hope to. I may not have a theme as such, but I have got enthusiasm, and a list of ideas. My aim is to make this an interesting month of reflection, smut and mischief, but in order to make it enjoyable for me (so I can go the distance) I need to accept that I’m not perfect.

I’m pretty close, but it’s ok to fall short occasionally.

 

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Acceptance for April was first published on A Leap Of Faith

Life is more fun if you play games

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“I’ve got a five-day game for you next week.”

My phone lit up again. This time with a list of items to gather up.

  • Suspender belt
  • Rope
  • Leather
  • My favourite sensual material
  • A scouring sponge
  • Tea tree oil

With just one thing missing from my list I had to go shopping. Oddly it was just the suspender belt that I needed initially. Checking in about my leather laces the following day he suggested that it may be a little too intense, best to find something a little wider.

I love to spend time wondering, trying to work things out.

Clear instructions are important, but having a little time to wonder and guess has always been something I have enjoyed. Sometimes because the nervous curiosity makes me wet. Sometimes because I can work it out immediately and feel all pleased with myself. I thought I was mostly there with this one, I thought I had worked it out, but something wasn’t figuring in my mind; the last two items.

Once I had gathered all of the list together I was told what the week would entail.

  • Monday – rope tied between my legs front to back, attached to the suspender belt. Knickers over the top.

  • Tuesday – leather attached to the suspender belt in the same way as the rope. Again with the knickers.

  • Wednesday – Sensual material attached in the same way. And knickers again.

  • Thursday A.M. Scouring sponge to be work inside my knickers, scouring side up.

  • Thursday P.M. Sponge to be soaked in Tea Tree oil, with the sponge side up this time.

  • Friday- TBC

It looked like I was going to be having a busy week!

Monday was a challenge, it took a couple of attempts to get the tension right with the rope. Every time I thought I had it the rope began to feel loose. I wondered if I should just lose the belt and use rope instead? Tension would then be maintained rather than the belt stretching. No. I would follow the instructions given, I have never been one to deviate mid task unless life changes beyond my control. I was going to be free early afternoon and sent him a message at the agreed time. “I’ll be half an hour. Keep busy, and find your two favourite toys” When that half an hour was up he messaged, I was to be naked, and ready on my bed, I confirmed that I was all set, and he said he was going to call.

“Fuck” was the silent scream in my head.

I don’t talk to many people on the phone. I don’t like my voice, and get terribly embarrassed. I also find understanding tone of voice challenging without non verbal communication. But it was too late for that now, my phone was ringing! That first call went surprisingly well. Following his instructions I edged three times and followed that up with three finger plunging, squelching orgasms. He was happy and I was sated, giddy and still trembling an hour later on the school run.

Tuesday was the leather.

I loved the way it felt, nestled between my labia. Warm and comforting. Rope is something that I automatically have a strong reaction to, but leather wasn’t far behind. My day was full, so we kept in contact through the day although conversation was limited. By the time bed time arrived my leather thong was impregnated with my scent, and I was ready for the reward on offer.

The sensual fabric was wonderful.

I had chosen a blue sparkly fabric. A little bit rough, and almost sharp in the way that it rubbed between my ever swelling and moistening lips. By the afternoon I was hungry for the phone call I guessed would be coming. This time I was to gather some pegs and a candle. Once I was naked he called, and set me to work attaching pegs to my breasts before exercising. Star jumps, touching my toes and twisting at the waist. Only one of the pegs went flying off, but it was no less painful. Attaching pegs to my labia and then passing the gentle warmth of a lit candle between my legs. Dripping some wax onto my nipples before laying down and dripping a little on my belly and inner thighs.

Then the timer started.

He told me I had 5 minutes to reach orgasm as many times as possible. The timer ticked by, but none would come. Humiliation is something I enjoy, but this was beyond that. I felt something I hadn’t experienced for a long time: shame. Why couldn’t I come, my doxy is powerful, power exchange is powerful. I reasoned with myself that the standard 17 minute rule (that’s how long it usually takes to reach climax alone) still stands. No problem, he said, I want you to have 3 before the school run. Which gave me 40 minutes. Could I orgasm? Could I hell…

One grumpy mummy at the school gate, feeling ashamed for not achieving the task she’d been set.

The following day was the sponge though. No time to think about my abject failure the previous day, my lips wrapped around the stiff sponge. Rushing from one appointment to the next, pulling my knickers up to keep the irritant in place. My clit pulsed as the sensitive skin smarted brutally. Lunchtime saw me removing the sponge and lacing it with tea tree oil. Not before taking a long inhale of the sponge which now smelt of my sticky cunt, laced with a little pee. Sitting through a long meeting through the afternoon, in close quarters with my peers I was very aware of the scent of the oil. I was the only person in the room who knew what the smell meant, the secret as arousing as the stinging oil lapping at my pussy. At tea break time I glanced at my phone Give yourself a squeeze under the table. With no table I had to improvise, and spent the second half of the afternoon pressing my thighs together in plain sight.

He was pleased with my day, but there were two surprises in store for me.

The first was that Fridays task was confirmed as No Knickers Friday.  The second was that I had done so well I was to be rewarded with 3 orgasms, to be taken before midnight, along with the 3 from Wednesday. Two restless children made this incredibly difficult, but it was with a huge amount of relief when I achieved my sixth orgasm at 11:57. Sending a smiling photo of my success, I was happy and so was he.

Waking up the following morning it soon became clear as to why I wasn’t to wear any knickers…

The exertions of Thursday, with the abrasive sponge between my lips causing irritation. I had to make sure I kept myself distracted from the discomfort. I almost broke, nearly asked if I could put some sudocreme before thinking better of it. I am a lot of things, but I’m not delicate. I wouldn’t give in that easily! He told me that permission would have been granted if I had asked, but I hadn’t and that made me proud. I had recovered a little of my self-appreciation that I had lost on the Wednesday. When he told me how pleased he was with my hard work and how I had gone above and beyond on more than one occasion that made me feel proud of myself once more.

What a week!! A true roller coaster.

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Life is more fun if you play games was first published on A Leap of Faith

Hearts and flowers for TMI Tuesday

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Photo Credit: Dark Lion Photography

1. What are your romantic needs?

My romantic needs are minimal in all honesty. For the most part I get what could be seen as traditional romance from my friends. I miss having someone to cook with, but I have wonderful friends who will happily come round for dinner. Having someone to confide in, to share my joys and sadness, my friends are wonderful for filling that void (if you can call it that?) It could be made a little better if I had naked hugs in bed, and those confidences were in the form of pillow talk, chest hair tickling my nose while wrapped in strong arms. Companionable silences while each enjoying our own reading is something I miss. Conventional romance…. Flowers, if I want some I buy my own. Lingerie, again I buy my own. Chocolates, yes, you guessed it, I buy my own. (Actually, I buy myself nice cheeses instead of chocolates but you get my point)

2. What are your sexual needs?

Sexually I wax and wane with regards to my needs. I’m very skilled at managing my own physical requirements for orgasm, however what I am unable to replicate is the scent and touch of a man. I have friends who would happily be the man to stave off those cravings but I would rather wait until the dynamic is right for me too. My sexuality is mainly submissive, and with a man who can get inside my head the slut comes out to play, if that is what he also likes.

3. Do you agree that marriage was a pragmatic institution and in today’s society traditional marriage is not a need but merely a want?

For some people marriage is very much a need, a place of emotional security and a celebration of love between two families. The married couples tax allowance is also available for couples in a civil partnership, and with a maximum of £238 per year available you would be waiting a long time to recoup your wedding costs via this scheme. Apologies for my cynicism…. Having just celebrated my first Divorce-versary you may be surprised to learn that I would consider marriage in the future, but it would be choice rather than necessity which would lead me to that outcome.

4. Do you find conflict in your romantic relationships exciting?

The definition of conflict is “a serious disagreement or argument”. I do not find this kind of relationship exciting, whether romantic or platonic. That isn’t to say I want to be in constant agreement with those around me, I like healthy debate and differing opinions. This leads to interesting and challenging conversations and often I learn something.

5. During sex are you focused on positions or the quality and connection with your lover?

Quality and connection! I’ve had lovers want to go through a whole list of positions, turning it into some form of prescribed porno. Often the best moves are the least attractive. Saying that there are certain positions that I love to be in, that really get me going. And there are some that flick the off switch. Having the connection means that the lines of communication are open, that those “off” spots can be discussed in advance and avoided, or, if the passion is burning high then those scenarios are short circuited. Either outcome is a win for me.

Bonus: Men, what do you have a hard time talking to your lover(s) about?

Ok, so I’m not a man but I’m going to break the rules a little… Getting my lovers to open up about their feelings is something I struggle with. Something I have learnt over recent months is that there is strength in showing your emotional vulnerability. People who love us can’t support us if we keep it locked away. Personally I think that sharing emotions is a really intimate thing, more so than sex, and while I value a strong Dominant man I like it when they let me into their dark. Trust,strength and soft edges.

February Photofest

 

TMI Tuesday blog

Getting off is food for thought.

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Getting off in capable hands.

Do you remember your first orgasm? How old were you? Tell us about it.

My first orgasm happened while I sat on my brothers bedroom floor (he wasn’t there) I could tell you about it again, or I could send you back here to the beginning and show you the start of my depravity…

What is your favourite way to reach/be brought to a climax? 

So many wonderful ways to reach orgasm… Which one to choose?? To be bound in a predicament, stuffed full and stretched, blindfolded and tormented with vibrations and electricity. All while having to ask for permission from the wonderful man who is engulfing me in these sensations, each and every time I come up to the crest of orgasm is beautiful, and I would think that I would give my all for that kind of release. However… there is something even more beautiful than this. An orgasm through an intense impact scene is the rarest and most beautiful way for me to reach climax. Not being brought to orgasm through other stimulation while being beaten, no. That moment when my brain can no longer process those sensations which are swimming over my skin; when the rhythm and my breathing are in sync and I am floating on a high of endorphins; when my brain can no longer keep up and the pleasure sweeps over me like a sunrise after the long cold night. Yes. That is my favourite way of getting off.

And it is such a rare treat. I can’t do it to myself, and there are very few people I would trust to take me there….

What is the easiest/fastest way for you to have an orgasm? How long does it normally take you?

The fastest way for me to reach orgasm is by adding in the power exchange. Playing alone I can ask thin air for permission, with no response that drives me wild. (If you fancy trying this I recommend a timer as the permission giver. Otherwise there is the distinct possibility of running out of time and being left frustrated and unfulfilled. Or perhaps that is part of the fun!) It usually takes around 17 minutes to achieve my first orgasm, and after that they come thick and fast.

How many times a week do you try to reach orgasm? Typically, how often do you manage to get off?

Ha!! I love this question. I try to make time for at least one play session a week with my primary play partner Doxy.. Sometimes I manage more alone time than others. When I do get some time to myself I tend to go a little nuts and find release 2, 3, 6, 12 times…. I often find myself at the school gate with flushed cheeks and a cheesy grin because I have cut the timings a little fine.

Have you ever had an orgasm at the same time as your partner? Who normally comes first?

It is very rare for me to orgasm through penetration and so the opportunity to orgasm at the same time as a partner is highly unlikely. However, there have been times when my partner at the time and myself have collapsed into a sweaty sticky mess, panting and wrapped u in each other. As to who normally comes first? That depends very much on the type of lover. Sir took great pride in his ability to make me orgasm, P wasn’t overly interested in my pleasure and M and I enjoyed each other either way around.

Have you ever faked an orgasm? What were the reasons/circumstances that led you to fake it?

A faked orgasm is something I have never understood. I know a lot of people are happy with it, but I couldn’t pretend to climax when I haven’t. For me sex doesn’t need to end in climax, and if it isn’t going to I would rather be open about that. Faking would feel like a lie and ruin the experience for me.

#F4TFriday
February Photofest

 

Getting off is food for thought was first published on A Leap Of Faith.

When I get down on my knees, it is not to pray.

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Fresh from the bath, smooth and naked, I knelt before him in the soft light of my lounge, eyes down gazing lustily at his crotch.

I heard him shift in the sofa, felt him lift a tendril of my damp hair from my neck and trace his finger under my chin, raising my face to meet his in a passionate kiss. “I can’t” he murmured, “I’m not him, I’m not Sir.”

“I know, and I don’t want you to be,” breathing into the kiss I continued “I just want to suck your cock while I kneel here.”

He clearly hadn’t needed much persuading as, breaking away from the kiss, he unbuckled his belt, lowered his fly and shifted to release his already engorged shaft. Licking my lips I lowered my face to take him fully in my mouth, shining his length with my saliva, before lazily running my hot wet tongue over his veins in just the way that I knew he enjoyed. The growl that escaped from his lips told me everything I needed to know and my already soaked pussy began to mark my soft soles as I knelt there between his legs.

“Enough,” he said, suddenly standing up.

I was jolted from my lusty haze as he stepped past me, moving to my left and stepping out of his jeans. It took me a moment to realise that he was sliding his belt from the loops as he tidied his jeans away. There was a dark spark in his already dark brown eyes, and he gently moved me from kneeling beside the sofa to leaning forward over the cushion. “This is what you need N, I hope you’re ready,” and the first blow of his warm leather belt landed across my right cheek followed moments later by a second, this time on my left cheek. The immediate sting followed by a spreading warmth was exactly what I needed, though I hadn’t realised, and M settled into a rhythm. I could feel every millimetre of the strikes as they turned my milky white flesh a hot red.

Looking over my shoulder I could see the fire in his eyes as he embraced the savage within. 

Every swipe of the belt make my skin sting and tingle. Each blow led to more pleasure building across my skin. Twenty on each side was his limit, and he placed his weapon down next to my face as he moved behind me. On his knees behind me he buried his face between my hot cheeks, tongue desperately seeking my arousal which was leaking from between my lips and over my swollen clitoris. A hand on each cheek, kneading my tender flesh while he lapped at my sweet juices, before sliding his fingers into me and stretching my snatch wide so that he could get a proper taste. As he continued to torment my holes with his tongue and fingers I came to a shuddering climax which knocked the strength from me and left my body in a soft, trembling heap on the cushions.

“Oh no, you’re not done yet” came his tense response, “back on your knees again.”

And he helped me turn to my left, and get back onto my knees. With his hard shaft bobbing around in front of my glazed eyes I ran my tongue around his bulbous head once more. A short moan escaped his lips again as he fisted his hand in my hair, forcing my head back and my mouth fell open. As my lips parted he drove his cock into my mouth, into my throat, and as I gagged and spluttered he continued to drive into me, seeking his own release. With each stroke of his pleasure more of mine dripped from my hypersensitive cleft and I spread it over my clit and played myself to a second orgasm matching his eruption, his sticky seed spilling down my throat as I convulsed once more.

As his legs lost strength he folded down onto the sofa, pulling me up into his arms where I drifted into an untroubled sleep. 

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Life shrinks or expands, in proportion to one’s courage

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Up until this point my experiences had all been private.

My online presence could only be described as “lurking.” Now though I had decided to get out and about to events when I was available. My visit to the couple had been planned as a step towards this goal, and now that I knew the couple hosting a club night I felt I really wanted to attend. It was still a huge step so I found a sunday afternoon event which looked friendly. Kink and Cake was held at Studio Onyx and looked lively. Having a look at the profiles of the others listed as going I decided that I would send some messages in advance. The lady from the couple, MsD, was going to be there, and I spotted another profile where the owner had just posted a writing about his first experiences of events, making friends and finding his fit. He put some things that helped him in meeting new people, including this:

Here’s another tip… Well….I think it rings true at least… Be interesting, learn an oddball skill, find something you like and get better at it, I make whips, they aren’t too bad and I’m getting better at it and with them, but they make a great conversation starter as does so many other things!

I may not be able to make whips but I sure as hell can bake so I left a little comment thanking him for the writing and that I was going to take my own conversation starter in the form of cake. He replied later with encouragement to attend, recommending that I just be myself and people will respect that.

The next day I had a private message from him.

He had noticed that my first event would be Kink and Cake, that he would be going and that he was looking forward to meeting me. It was a friendly crowd, and they had welcomed him with open arms. All I had to do now was ask myself those two questions:

  1. Is it safe?
  2. Do I want to?

The answer to both was YES so now all I had to do was be brave. That sunday came round quickly, and I made a raspberry cake where the topping was made of icing sugar and raspberries blitzed together. With the ripeness of the fruit the icing was almost fluorescent pink.

If I had wanted to spark up conversation this was certainly one way to do it!

I walked in to the venue and popped my cake down on the table, suddenly there was a group of people cooing at the cake and chattering with me. The hosts made me welcome and introduced me to some people, MsD came downstairs from the playspace and introduced me to her slave SL (he quickly snaffled the first of his three slices of cake) and then the whip-maker Trautaruan (Tr) arrived with his play partner CC. There were so many people there, and everyone made me feel welcome. I chatted half of the afternoon away and ended up deep in conversation with a male sub (MT) and a foot fetishist (LTM) about bastinado. MT quite fancied learning a little more in his switch side and LTM had the skills, equipment and enthusiasm.

I had the feet so off we went upstairs, a merry trio.

LTM had a little rubber paddle and a pin wheel, and after I reclined fully clothed on a bench with my feet in some stirrups he took my right foot, showing MT how and where to hit me. They swapped back and forth with the paddle and as MT struck my left foot LTM would run the pinwheel over my right sole, stretching my toes back. They were working on my feet for what felt like half an hour and the pleasure was quite something, my body was responding in the usual way with pleasure tingles spreading like fireworks up my legs… Only this time the effort on my soles was relentless, the sensations were overwhelming and the tingles joined at my apex causing a totally unexpected orgasm.

An orgasm with no genital stimulation… I thought that was the stuff of legend….

The orgasm was a surprise and the fact that I had been fully clothed and not in a sexual situation threw me completely, would I be able to accept that I had reached orgasm through pain? I didn’t know, but at that point I decided not to think about it as it was too much of a challenge. I went back to socializing and chatting, the orgasm was a sign that I was very comfortable in the company of these new people. I had always believed I was socially inept, and during my marriage had been so isolated that I hadn’t been able to challenge myself to become confident in myself. Sir had worked hard to show me that I had every right to be confident and now, in his absence, I was able to reap the rewards of his labour. I even made plans to meet up with a couple of them at the Fetish club a couple of weeks later, and many of the people I met that day have become firm friends.

I drove home and went to the beach, where I admired my puffy soles and soaked up the early evening sunshine.

I had done it!

I had gone to my first munch, I had pushed myself hard and come out stronger. 

Life shrinks or expands, in proportion to one’s courage was first published on A Leap of Faith.

 

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