Molly and Mick had a late evening here in River City, out to dinner with our surly teen #2 and some friends visiting from Florida. That's why it was particularly nice to find this contribution from our Senior Correspondent in our in box to share with all of you.
Who says that the under 40's of this world have all the fun?
Well Guys and Gals, Doms and subs,
If you caught Sunday’s blog comments you know that I became rather vocal on a couple of issues. One might even say that I ranted a bit. I could try to convince you that the whole thing is totally out of character for me, that I am a soft and gentle soul who never rants or has strong opinions about things, but that would be a lie. No, along with being Bill’s submissive, I am clearly a Don’t Tread on Me (or mine) kind of girl. And that seems to be a common thread among submissive friends of mine, both male and female.
I swear to you that if the people Bill and I worked with in the vanilla world were to hear that we are a BDSM couple, their first thought would be of Bill lashed to a St. Andrew’s cross with me cracking a whip like Clint Eastwood in the opening scene of Rawhide! Very few could imagine me as the submissive begging for permission to suck Bill’s cock or envision me rocking my body, trying not to reach orgasm until given Bill’s approval. To the rest of the world Bill is currently a laid-back environmentalist and gentle political activist, a joking kind of guy, easy-going almost to a fault and I continue to be perceived as a take-charge, suck it up, organize it and make it work sort of person.
You may well be asking how this ties into a sex blog and here it is: Bill finds it very sexy that I am so strong in public. As part of my job when we were in the workforce, I led men and women, telling them what to do and exactly how I wanted it done. I was also required to call them on the carpet from time to time. Bill found it to be quite stimulating to watch his little sub be in charge. Since we worked together, being erect so often frequently made the days extra long for him and proper decompression in our hotel suite was always important.
We would head back to the hotel ASAP, hang the Do Not Disturb sign on the door and strip out of our clothes as quickly as possible. The shower was the first step in releasing work tensions while cranking things up sexually at the same time. After a basic wash-up Bill would push me up against the shower wall and I would run my soaped fingers through the hair on his chest, then run them slowly down his abdomen following that trail of dark hair leading to his groin.
I moved on to a gentle rubbing of his balls and a not so gentle grasping and rubbing of his cock. After a warm rinse, he lowered me to the shower seat that was just at the right height for me to lean forward and lick those first drops of precum from the end of his fat cock. After some time spent licking and sucking, Bill gave my wet hair a solid tug to let me know it was time to stop and he spread my legs and used the hand-held showerhead set on hard spray, showering attention on my nether lips and clit. We dried each other off with the thick hotel towels and relocated to the chairs in the living area.
Bill placed me over the back of the chair and after gently rubbing my butt for a few minutes and maybe adding a little back rub, would pull his hand back and *whack* spank me for that day’s offenses, both real and imagined. He stopped after every ten swats or so, running his fingers up and down my slit to distribute my juices and judge just how turned on I had become. Sometimes he brought me to orgasm right then, but more often than not he insisted in a manner and voice that only Doms own, that I wait.
He continued rubbing my clit while at the same time nudging my legs farther and farther apart until he could bring up his knee, rubbing my slit with his knee and thigh, again and again, while using his hands to tweak, pull and pinch my nipples. Finally granted permission to come, I buried my face in the upholstery in an effort to keep from screaming with my release. And then, before my heartbeat returned to normal, he would take me to the bed.
In bed then, as now, bondage is the name of the game. Bill was a scout leader and is a very creative guy. He can make most anything into an implement of bondage. Belts and ties are obvious and easy choices, but my Dom can take a bra and turn it into a rather secure tie down. He can have me pull on my jeans only to knee level and adjust them to immobilize my legs and he can twist exercise bands into handcuffs in the blink of an eye. Once I was bound in whatever manner pleased him on that particular day, Bill continued his complete control and Dominance of me, his sexual submissive until we were both freed from the day’s stressors and well sated.
That is exactly what I wanted and, more to the point, it is exactly what each of us needed.
I have heard vanillas speak of submissives as weak, sniveling creatures never wishing to make a decision on their own and Doms as overbearing, mean, obnoxious people As with all stereotypes, the beauty and diversity of life is missed by generalizing.
Vive la difference!