Animal Lust

Originally published elsewhere, reproduced with full permission.

As i sat on the edge of the bed, and inhaled my cigarette deeply, I looked up at the ceiling, noting its fresh coat of paint and absence of cobwebs. I could still feel my breath as I exhaled, pumping a slowing beat through my chest, and gradually subsiding. I was still coming to terms with the intensity of what had just happened.

I hadn’t expected that.

I was taking a break from an incredibly intense and passionate threesome. I sat, naked, skin filmy with massage oil, hair slick with sweat and exertion, pushed back behind my ears. Legs stretched out in front of me, crossed at the ankle. Idly, I pointed the toes of my right foot, making a mental note to refresh the tired varnish when I next got the chance.

Beside me on one side lay the panting body of Amos. He lay on his side, regarding me silently from under hooded eyes. Behind me was Andy, and I had been under the impression that he was catching a speedy couple of Zs, until I suddenly felt him slide up behind me in one fluid and practiced move. He moulded himself to my back, bringing his muscular arms around, and crossing them over me, then ran a single index finger down my arm until I shivered. I felt his breath on my neck as he brought his head next to mine, and rested it on my shoulder, pausing to dot tiny little kisses along my neck and up my cheek.

Somehow, I felt protected, secure, seduced and helpless all at the same time.

I turned, and met his lips in the kiss that I had sensed was imminent. Such soft lips, couple with such a strong jaw, his tongue seeking and locating my own. Softer, this, than earlier kisses we’d shared — chalk it up to position and timing, but it was a definite promise of more to come.

The sensation of his body against mine was incredibly arousing. Given the string of cataclysmic, gushing orgasms I’d experienced only minutes earlier, this was special in and of itself. His very proximity made my knees wobble. I stretched my legs again, hoping to imbue my knees with renewed strength, but I failed.

Raw animal passion. You could describe it as the purest emotion there is. The spark of electricity felt through skin on skin. The eye contact connection, unspoken and unheralded, yet very much there. The urge to touch, to hold, to feel, to stroke… to possess, to own… to consume.

As I pulled on the cigarette, a mental picture flashed before my eyes of not ten minutes previously. Looking down at Andy as I sat astride him, his hips bucking up into the rhythm of my own as i rode him, his hands on my hips, his cock buried so deep inside me I could have cried with sheer pleasure. My g-spot throbbing with anticipation, as his nudged it each time he pushed into me.

I felt him slide even closer, and effortlessly glide a finger between my legs, finding my engorged and glistening sweet spot with ease. I reached out my arm, and blindly but carefully extinguished my smoke.

It was time for round two.

All About the Base

Disclaimer: This post contains graphic descriptions and imagery. If that kind of thing makes your teeth itch, don’t say I didn’t warn you. Plus, as ever, you always have the choice of stopping reading, and moving on. Although I daresay that if you’re anything like me, it will be as compelling as a road accident, and you won’t be able to stop. So you can stop now. Or not. Up to you. ED x 😀

Anal sex. We’ve all been there, some more successfully than others.

When it’s good, whoa mama, it is GOOOOOOOD. I have recently discovered that I can achieve orgasm simply through any of a variety of anal stimulation, including the ultimate – the ass-fuck.

When it’s bad, it’s utterly awful. And painful – not even in the fun way, either.

But back to when it’s good.

The wonderful man whom I am honoured and delighted to sleep with on a regular basis, is a bit of a fan of the bumfuck. And being that he is also adorably bisexual (it’s a thing about me, all the great loves of my life have been bi), the bumfuck can and often does extend both ways. (Double-ended dildos FTW. Wahoo!)

I find that it takes a while to warm up, so to speak. I don’t mean that initial moment as we both pause, waiting for the inner muscles to relax and allow him access. I mean that the second, or usually the third time it happens, there is a smoothness to the rhythm and what I can only describe as a glide-iness that makes the whole thing really enjoyable. So much so that it’s worth the slight discomfort of the first time or so.

Also, the orgasms, oh, the orgasms — holy mother of pearl. As any sexually enlightened woman knows, there is a difference between a clitoral orgasm and a G-spot orgasm. For me, at least, the clitoral orgasm takes longer, and results in a prolonged earth-shaker that leaves me temporarily spent. It also sometimes manifests as a multiple, and when it does, “temporarily” takes on quite a different meaning. 😉 A G-spot orgasm, however, takes less time, is no less enjoyable, and often results in a tsunami-like effect, which, try as I might and practice my Kegels as I do, I have yet to make projectile. (Give me time, it’ll happen.) It feels very different, though. Not so much less intense as coming from a different place. Somewhere deep inside. Somewhere more carnal, if ethereal.

Of course, the noise I make when achieving both types of orgasm is fairly similar. 😉

But then there is the orgasm achieved by mere anal penetration. The second time we met, the man and I, this happened. Using a finger (or possibly two). Just there, nowhere else. An experience new to us both — and one which he wanted to repeat, although this time, using something other than his finger.

He has waxed lyrical on’t for weeks and weeks — and then today it happened.

Suffice it to say that the two of us have spent the day feeling all float-y, and grinning like morons.

😀

Footnote: Apropos of nothing other than it’s about sodding time — just to mention how happy I am at the decision of the US Supreme Court to recognize gay marriage.

Or as I like to call it, marriage.