Masturbation Monday: Swinging 6: Swingin’ low, swingin’ sweet

Note

The previous episode of this story is here.

Swingin’ low, swinging’ sweet

Stephanie picked herself off the ground, after her post-orgasmic descent of the slide, while some good citizen, who must have heard her coming and then loudly protesting that I was an utter bastard, switched his front lights on. A second later he opened his door. I could see him, but he couldn’t see us. Stephanie was all for running back to my place, naked as she was. But I joined her, carrying her little white shorts and even littler white panties. She whispered, “There’s… people.”

I whispered, “And you thought they’d lose interest if you ran naked across the road to my place?” Then I smacked her pale, moonlit arse, firmly enough to be felt, but light enough for the sound not to travel.

Stephanie gave me frowns. She wasn’t calm yet. “Well, what else..?”

“We disappear for a bit. Come with me.” I took her hand and led her back to the swings. They were in darkness, protected from the street lights by trees and the corner of a wall. Stephanie looked at me with disbelief, and more frowns. So I smacked her bottom again.

“Sit.”

“You’re crazy.” But she sat in the swing.

“Good girl. Now spread your thighs.” Stephanie obeyed. She’d left a landing strip of short, fairish hair above her cunt. She knew I’d think her cunt was pretty, even in the murky depths of our twilight.  

I smiled. “That’s a hot little cunt. You need to be fucked soon, don’t you?”

“Glad you noticed. Ow!” The Ow! was because, her bottom out of reach, I’d squeezed her nipple. She held on to the chains on either side of the swing’s wooden seat. She made no attempt to protect her nipple. If I thought she needed a small, measured portion of pain, obviously that was for me to decide.

I said, “Now put your hands on your cunt. Both hands, Steph. Don’t worry, you won’t need to hang on. I mean, not to the swing.”

Stephanie put her hands down, and, when I nodded, began to stroke herself, faster and harder than I would have. I waited till she made her first gasp, almost silently, and took hold of the chains. I tugged my underpants down a little so my cock flicked free, more or less at her nose. “Now open your mouth, girl.” 

She opened wide, and took in my cock, then tightened her lips on the shaft, sucking hard. Enthusiastically. I let the swing do the work, mostly keeping still while her body rocked back and forth on the seat, her mouth taking my cock deeper and then almost-but-not-quite releasing. Time past, while she stroked herself and pleasured me. She made another small, happy whine, and suddenly I let go of one of the chains, and pressed the back of her head, making her take all of my cock into her mouth and throat. 

I began to move at last, fucking her mouth hard. At one stage she choked, but I didn’t let her draw back. She coughed once, then again, and then took my cock as deep as it would go. Hungrily. This was more than Stephanie being a good girl demonstrating her skills; this was Stephanie enjoying herself.

She made another pleasured sound, and I put both hands on her shoulders, letting her choose how deep my cock would go, but pumping my hips, fucking her mouth hard. I wanted her to feel me taking my own pleasure with no consideration for her. I figured – no, I knew – she’d like that.

Usually I give some sort of spoken warning, but it was clear that Stephanie didn’t need it. I made one thin nasal moan, trying my best to keep the sound down, and came in her, cock pumping, spurting deep in her throat, my body in spasm. I had to grab the swing’s chains to stop myself falling over.  

Stephanie swallowed, running her tongue along and around my cock. I wanted to say things, and breathe hard, but I was still aware that there was a guy out of his front porch, listening. Not, I judged, that he could hear us. He’d be worried about vandalism, not sex, but I was reasonably sure he’d disapprove of sex too. It was inappropriate in a children’s park. 

Stephanie stopped licking and swallowing my cock clean, eventually, and looked up at me. There was a little drool of my come and her saliva, down from the left corner of her mouth. She licked it away quickly, and something about that made my cock twitch in her mouth.  

The light went out, and the front door closed. I withdrew from her mouth, though I was still half-hard. Stephanie smiled. “I thought he’d never fuck off. Um, shall we? Again?”

Note: The next episode is here.

Wicked Wednesday: Maddie and Lucy, in Sir’s office

After school I raced to Sir’s office, hoping to meet Lucy before she arrived. But she’d already knocked on the door, and Sir had called, “Come”, so we went in together.

Sir was sitting behind his desk. I’d expected to see the cane there,like a badge of office and as a warning to us. But the desk was bare.

Sir smiled. “Good afternoon, Maddie. Hello, Lucy.”

So we chorused, “Good afternoon, Sir.” I looked at Lucy. She wouldn’t look at me. I hoped she wasn’t feeling feeling guilty, or silly, for giving herself to me.

I hoped she was just afraid of what Sir would think. I was about to tell him. “Sir-“

“I didn’t ask for you to speak, Maddie. Take your clothes off, and go and stand and face the wall. Lucy, you stay where you are.”

Lucy said, “Yes, Sir.”

So I swallowed the “But Sir” that I wanted to say, and started to undo the buttons of my shirt. Sir had never specified, but I expected that when he said, “take off your clothes”, I had about three minutes, maximum, before painful penalties applied. I took off the bra, and then pushed my little tartan skirt and panties down together. I stepped out of them, leaving them on the floor, and took off my socks and shoes. Then I turned to face the wall, letting my nose and nipples touch the cool woodl.

“All right, Lucy. you haven’t had the cane before, have you?”

Lucy’s voice was a little high, and shaky. “No, Sir. Never.” I wanted to turn and watch them, but I knew he’d be angry with me if I disobeyed. So I had to imagine Lucy’s squirming.

“Well, you’re about to, little Lucy. Do you think it’ll hurt?”

“Sir! Oh, yes. I’ve heard it hurts terribly.” I imagined her glancing at me when she said that.

“I intend that it will hurt you, Lucy. You didn’t hold young Maddie down when I told you to. Did you?”

“No. Sir, I know I deserve the cane.”

There was silence, while Sir looked at her. Sir would be surprised by that answer. Was Lucy teasing him? He didn’t know. Neither did I.

He said, “Take your dress off, Lucy. Now, girl.”

There was rustling beside me, just out of sight. Eventually Lucy said, “Sir.”

“Now take your panties off, put them in your mouth, and come here.”

Lucy said, “Yes, Sir.” No hesitation. She must have obeyed, because a few seconds later I heard the crisp sound of Sir’s hand landing on her bottom. Then another smack, even louder. Lucy made a small nasal noise, but couldn’t speak.

“Good. Shirt and bra off now, girl.” Mote rustling of cotton. Lucy would be naked, now. “I’m going to give you a spanking first, Lucy. Before I cane you. Do you understand why?”

I heard Lucy try to speak. So did Sir. There was another ringing smack, the hardest yet.

“Do not speak, Lucy. Honestly, I wonder sometimes if you’re as stupid as Maddie here. Just nod your head, or shake it.”

Lucy must have shaken her head, because Sir said, “You might think it’s extra punishment to get a spanking before you get the cane, but it isn’t. It helps to warm you up, and it increases blood circulation in the skin of your bottom. That means it won’t hurt you quite as much, and you don’t mark quite so severely. I’m giving you a warm-up because you were at least trying to be a good girl. Now Maddie, here, she’s just going to get her caning cold. Do you understand?”

Lucy would have nodded, her mouth still full. Then there was another sound: Lucy’s sudden hissing in of breath, and a faint moan. Had Sir touched her? Then there was silence for a few seconds, and another moan. Sir had to be stroking Lucy’s cunt. When he spoke, at last, he sounded a little out of breath, “Good girl, Lucy. One warm-up spanking for you. Now,” I heard him sit in the office chair. “Get over my knee.” 

I imagined his view, Lucy’s lovely waist and delectable little bottom under his gaze. His hand resting on her softness. I waited for the spanking to begin, but there was silence. Then Sir said, “What’s this mark on the side of your thigh? I didn’t spank you there this morning. Lucy? Where did you get extra spanks from, since this morning?” 

Lucy stayed silent. It wasn’t just that her mouth was full. She didn’t want to tell on me. I said, “Sir~”

“Ah. Maddie. Of course. Come here, girl. I think you two girls have some explaining to do.”

 

 

E{lust} 104: pleasure in the dark

Elust 104

Photo courtesy of Brigit Writes

Welcome to Elust 104

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #105 Start with the rules, come back April 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

 

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

A Wank and a Spank

The S Word

At My Feet

 

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Boarding School Survivor

Varnish

~Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

Ode to the 69

 

*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Ode to the 69
Know your Power…Cum in Me!
Who Holds the Power?
C’est finis.

Sex News, Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

How To Melt An Ice Cube
Liberation…
Time ~ Looking Back & Travelling Forward

Erotic Fiction

Once in a lifetime… or maybe not?
When the William Comes to Port
Soulmate
The Nervous Game
Wait
Gypsy Traveler
#PegaPolitician: Melania’s Trigger
A Love/Hate Relationship with Changing Rooms
Maddie and her girl

Poetry

-02.03.18-15:19-

Body Talk and Sexual Health

Negative
Being Daddy

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

I’ll scratch yours
Come Home

Erotic Non-Fiction

50 Shades Has Nothing On Us!

Blogging

Sex Bloggers Talking About… Sex Blogging

 

 

 

 

 

Elust

After Eroticon: Re-emergence

I’ve been silent for a week. That’s probably unprecedented, for this blog, since 2012. Back then I spent a month hanging round hospitals, pouring out blood, fairly heavily wounded. 

And although a nurse kept me amused by showing me her bruises, and although I had a lot of other people’s blood in my veins, I just didn’t have the energy to write.

Still, I picked it all up again.

And that nurse: I think that when I understand the universe better, I’ll discover that she’s secretly in charge of the life force. 

Helsinki: grey, cold and beautiful

Anyway, my reason for silence this time is more prosaic. I’ve been travelling, not always in places with w-ifi. And too many days started before 6.00 in the morning, and then went on until far too late in a different time zone.

Anyway, right now I’m in London, and I’m going to be asleep very, very soon, though it’s early in the evening. But I’m so tired I’m gasping. For air and water, mainly, and rest.

Pork, sympathy and wine in the Eternal City

Here’s a photo of Rome, as experienced by me. This man is bringing me food, and wine from the district where the castle I stayed in last year is located. Thank fuck for Rome, is all I can say about that. 

But I only got one night in Rome. Then I had to catch the train to Turin, spend the night there, and catch the train to Paris too early in the morning, so I could arrive in time to catch the Paris to London Eurostar.

i arrived in London in time to doss down in some dodgy bnb. But in the morning I met the lovely Zoe at the airport, and we went to Eroticon, a conference and general get-together and celebration for the world’s sex bloggers.

I’ll write more about Eroticon later, but for now I can’t. It will take more time and energy and thought than I’ve been able to have yet.

In the meantime, all I can say is that I’m back with a keyboard and a connection, and welcome back to my blog, for all of you!

Masturbation Monday: The slippery slide

Note: This is a continuing story. The previous episode is here.

So Stephanie waited, bent over the apex of the slide, naked now, face pressed down against the cold metal of the chute, ass prettily presented for me. I slipped my fingers between wet, petalled folds, and began to stroke her again. 

Stephanie said, “Oh, I don’t think I got anything more.” But I just smacked her bottom again, because I wanted to make it clear that all sorts of things weren’t really up to her for the time being, and that a second orgasm was one of those things. She laughed, for reasons of her own, and then sighed when I resumed working my fingers against sweet soft wetness. 

I put my thumb against her asshole and pressed a little, and got another sigh. So I kept that pressure, and kept the rhythm of my fingers in her absolutely steady, neither fast now slow, neither speeding up or slowing down.

In time, ina few minutes, her buttocks had clenched, and she was rolling with my hand,, and her vocal noises were still sighs, but higher pitched, enthusiastic sighs.

I said, “I have. More, I mean. I’m going to fuck you so hard, little Stephanie, when we get back.”

Her foot twitched. She was no longer standing on the steps, letting her tummy take all of her weight. She made a nasal sound, and carolled, “fuuuuuuck!”, partly in answer to what I’d said, and partly for other very good reasons. 

The sound she made when she came, that second time, was like the greatest expression of fear and grief you could imagine, except that it was clearly loudly and absolutely joyous. Her feet and thighs lifted clear, so that I had to grab her and hold her while she came, or else she’d have slid remorselessly down. 

Eventually she breathed a kind of laugh. “I didn’t see that coming. Jesus!” 

I said, “It’s an unpredictable world, Stephanie.” And, because I had her legs in my hands, and she had no more orgasm for now, I pushed her, like a double javelin, down the slide. Stephanie said, “Yiiiii!” And there were whioops of indignation and laughter, while she hurtled facedown and naked, on that chilly metal chute. 

I didn’t follow, though I wanted to. I climbed back down and picked up her discarded shorts and panties. Stephanie, now getting up from the level bit at the slide’s end, called out to me, “You utter, utter, utter, utter bastard!” 

And then a light went on, from the house nearest to the playground. People were stirring. We’d stirred them. 

Note: The next episode is here.

 

Eroticon UK: The Jaime papers!

In a week, I’ll be at Eroticon UK! 

On Friday, I’ll be there for drinks. I herewith present my papers!

Name (and Twitter handle if you have one)

My name is Jerusalem Mortimer. But people generally call me Jaime.

It’s like James, but with no “s” on the end. One syllable. It’s not Jamie. 

For social purposes and dauphins, my name is Jaime.

But I’m not thingy about it. Fact is, smile at me and I’ll answer to any bloody thing.  

The pic is me on Day 10 after having my face ripped about by weasels! I can almost recognise myself. I’m having the stitches taken out this afternoon. 

My Twitter handle is @JaimeMortimer.

What are you most looking forward to about Eroticon 2018?

Meeting up with the lovely Zoe, from @sexismynewhobby! That’s the big headline for me.

Beyond that, I’m looking forward to meeting lots of lovely people, who are so damn sharp, cool and nice (and generally lovely) that they astound me to admiration. I will buy many drinks! 

Also, I really liked Camden when I was there last year, and I’m looking forward to getting to know the place a little better this time around. 

We are creating a play list of songs for the Friday Night Meet and Greet. Nominate one song that you would like us to add to the play list and tell us why you picked that song.

Jerusalem (“And did those feet, in ancient time…”).

The Emerson, Lake and Palmer version.

Because Blake is about elemental force, and freedom, and breaking “the mind-forg’d manacles”. Also, the ELP version is an awesome reinvention of a brilliant song.  

Weirdest place you’ve ever gotten up to mischief (define ‘mischief’ however you like…)

The Tutaekuri River, in New Zealand. The name, by the way, means “dogshit” in Maori. I suspect that some nineteenth century surveyor asked a local Maori what that river was called. The Maori guy came up with that, keeping a straight face, so it got into the mapbooks. It’s quite a pretty river, really.

Anyway, I was having sex with my girlfriend in a deep pool on one side of the Tutaekuri River, sitting on some underwater rocks.

The watery fucking got to an urgent point, but then a raft floated by, packed with boy scouts and a pink scoutmaster.

He kept trying to draw the boys’ attention to some sight on the opposite side of the river from us. He didn’t have much luck.

We stopped and didn’t start again till they’d they’d drifted on downriver and out of sight. Then, a minute later, there was another boyscout raft, this one with a red scoutmaster. We tried to lean back and look respectable, and not look too obviously joined, underwater. They passed, and the fucking resumed. 

And then… there was a third raft, with a crimson scoutmaster.

We waited for a bit, but that was it. When the girlfriend came, it was the first time I’d ever heard a woman make orgasm noises and hysterical giggles simultaneously. Best sound ever, I thought. 

Anyway, so we’ve done our bit for sex education.  

Tell us two truths and a lie about yourself

  1. I am indomitable, probably to a fault.
  2. I secretly fear that my powers are not up to my ambitions, as a writer. 
  3. When I was 11, I wrote a novel in which Percy Bysshe Shelley was rescued from drowning by a man in a time machine, who sent him to America to save the place from right-wing crazies on religion.

Complete the sentence: I want..

… to find a publisher for three books. Two novels, one funny and one crime-and racism focussed, also a non-fiction book about bdsm. Put me in paper!  

Wicked Wednesday: Worried thoughts, and the shadow of the slipper

Note

The previous episode of Maddie’s steamy saga is here. 

 

Worried thoughts, and the shadow of the slipper

Maddie sat, trying to concentrate on French. But she thought about Lucy, her girl. And Sir, who was going to cane her after school that afternoon. And cane Lucy, too. Naked, the both of them. 

She knew he’d be happy with that thought. He’d already shown her what he thought of her body, and she knew Lucy, naked, would delight him too. When she faced him, and when she turned her back to assume the position.

But should she have claimed ownership of Lucy? She’d had his permission to see if Lucy wanted to be there when Sir took Maddie at last, for the first time, at his home after he’d caned both of them in his office. She hadn’t had his permission to claim Lucy as her… what? Her slave, really. So it seemed.

She hoped Sir would let her keep Lucy. She hoped that so hard. And she didn’t want him to be angry with her. She knew that if she owned Lucy, and he owned her, Maddie, then Sir owned Lucy anyway. And Lucy had seemed to find that was an exciting idea: being owned by both Sir and Maddie. She was happily exploring, too. 

Maddie frowned. She’d have to find some way of showing Sir that she’d done something good, even gracious. She hoped he’d see that she’d brought him a gift. Taking Lucy in her hands had been a presumptuous thing to do, but the moment had swept them along. She’d acted for the best, for all three of them.

Mlle Dupaurais said sharply, “Maddie! Faites attention!” Maddie started. The French mistress had a cutting tongue, and when she punished she used a rubber-soled slipper. It left severe marks, and Sir would not be pleased to find she hadn’t kept out of trouble.

Maddie looked at her, beseeching. “Je suis désolé, Mam’selle. J’ai eu une crampe. Je vais faire attention.” 

Mlle Dupaurias looked at Maddie. Her slipper was in the top drawer of her desk. “Assurez-vous de la faire. Or le directeur vous donnera des coups supplémentaires cet après-midi.”

Maddie blushed furiously. Did all her teachers know she was getting the cane this afternoon? Yes, she decided; yes, they would. She said, again, “Je suis désolé, Mam’selle.” 

Mlle Dupaurais gestured with one hand towards her desk drawer. Then she smiled ironically, and nodded, releasing Maddie from her gaze. The lesson continued. 

But now Maddie was focussed on more physical concerns. Her bottom still hurt from that morning’s caning. How would her second dozen feel? Could she take it? God, she hoped so. 

Note

I think I’ve run other pics from this caning, but not this one. The strokes really were for repeated academic essay-lateness, but that was at university level, and in a consenting bdsm context. Still, it’s exactly the sort of thing that was at the forefront of Maddie’s mind, by the end of her French class. 

Masturbation Monday: an apology for a post, and more on the Library of Depravity

I made the Library of Depravity in what had been a bare concrete space.

The concept for it is late nineteenth century, based around the idea of some colonial administrator who’s served in Africa, Indochine (as it was then), the South Pacific, India, the Caribbean, and also around the Arctic Circle.

So he has all these artefacts from the places he’s been, which happen by an odd coincidence to be places I’ve been, and he comes down to the library to read poetry, politics, philosophy and porn, to punish and reward bad girls, and I think to smoke opium.

The only thing that isn’t 19th Century or earlier in technology is the record player, and at least that’s old and analogue. Because it relies on valves rather than transistors, it should have a chance of surviving as a sound system even if EMPs and other things that would fuck up digital technology are ever deployed. The only keyboard in that library is connected to a portable typewriter.

I’m not going all crazy-survivalist on you. I don’t have guns, or stockpiles of canned soup. I just think the internet is more vulnerable to destruction by government or non-state actors, or to coming under government or corporate control, than people remember to take into account. My books will still be here when my Kindle is fried, or the subversive and sexual texts start to disappear out of it.

As for poweringr that fine and ancient sound system, I was thinking of pretty submissives riding bicycles hooked up to power generators, and whips. And plenty of coffee.

It’s the genuinely environmentally friendly way of providing the needed energy. Fun and future-proofing!

 

Sorry damn note

I haven’t got the mental focus to write the next episode of my Masturbation Monday story, which involves swings and things and buttons and bows.

I could only manage to write this piece about the Library of Depravity. A few people asked me to. So it was a request and it was easy. 

I wrote about why I’m a bit lacking in energy and focus, here

I took this pic of myself five minutes ago. This is me on Day 7 after surgery. If you compare it with the Day 4 photo, you can see that the hard work of healing is coming along, slow but sure. 

Sinful Sunday: On the edge

What’s important is almost never what happens in the centre. It’s on the edges.

Where creamy skin becomes pink. Where pleasure comes with a clap and a pang. 

And beauty escapes the rule of symmetry, and loses the balance. 

And still, and yet, that asymmetry creates the best harmony.