Oct 152012

I just read Whitman’s account of our totally successful but nearly-disastrous crisis-averted lost anal plug story! It’s sort of funny in retrospect, and it was sort of funny just after it happened, but as it was happening?? OHMYGAHHH…

I do like anal sex. It doesn’t always work out for me, but when it does, it’s amazing. This was one of those cases. It worked. It realllly worked. Whitman had fucked my ass, and fucked it for real. Pounded it, even. Wow, was I feeling good! Lying in the bed, my hands still loosely attached to my thighs, basking in the throbbing afterglow… and what an afterglow! Happy anal

Smug. That’s how I felt.

Totally smug.

It worked!

Successful anal sex!


I reached back with my cuffed hands to touch the plug that Whitman had placed in my ass. I was touching for proof, mostly. I was in a little disbelief that it was inside of me. It’s usually a little bit of work, and I hadn’t even felt this one go in my ass.

I barely touched the little glass base, and felt it it move. It moved like it was just snuggling in to a better position. And it kept moving. And didn’t stop. WHAT?! I felt the flat glass base slip right away from my fingers. Feeling panic, I moved my fingers closer to my asshole, and tried to grab the plug. I felt nothing but the quick slide of the toy and my ass closing around it. With the cuffs around my wrists and thighs, I was helpless to do anything more.Lost anal plug

What was going to through my mind was, “ohmygodohmygodohmygodnonononoooo…!!”
That thought was followed by a quick yelp for Whitman, who had gone to wash up,  “comebackcombackcomeback!!’”
He did, and I managed to squeak out what had happened, and added, “I’m not going to the hospital for this!” He looked, he felt for it, rapidly decided this was above his pay grade, and let me loose.

As you read, I successfully ‘removed’ the plug (and a little santorum, if you must know) by squatting and pushing – like birthing the smallest baby ever, and that’s the happy ending.

Jun 012011

I’ve long held the belief that men are one or the other. Sure, there’s a random ‘leg man’ out there, or a ‘foot fetish’ outlier, but I mean generally speaking – it’s ass or tits. I’ve even used that question as an icebreaker…often. “Are you an ass man or a boob man?”

I’m more well-endowed with ass than tits. Everyone I’ve ever been with has been basically ass-obsessed. Whitman is not. He’s a boob man. He wouldn’t completely admit that early on in our relationship, but I’ve come to realize that it’s true.

Thank goodness that my theory seems to hold true… (this seems backwards, but stay  with me for this one…)

An “ass man” will appreciate ANY ass. They love them all, and really love a REALLY NICE ONE, but a boob man has to see a REALLY. NICE. ASS. to be moved by it.

Same goes for a “breast man” – they seem to like all tits, big OR small, and maybe appreciate gorgeous ones a little more, but ass men could care less about breasts unless they’re extra-gorgeous.

Now, that being said, my breasts are not extra-anything…not extra-large, extra-small, extra-gorgeous. Whitman appreciates them, and even talks of how hot they’d be pierced.
I don’t know how to be a ‘boob man’s girl’, though! I’m used to being able to stand a certain way to teasingly accentuate my ass, or wear a certain dress that shows my curves. It’s always been so easy to do.

I don’t seem to have that magical ability to pose myself so that my breasts seem ‘pounce-able’!


(I will say this new bra sort of makes it look like I had a boob job. That seemed to work to my advantage.)

May 152011

I have an issue. It’s an inability to TALK during sex. It’s an inability to communicate, really. I think lots of things, and it turns out that sometimes I THINK I’ve SAID the things out loud, but not really. It’s a very strange short-circuit between my sexy bits and my brain.  The short list of things I think / think I’ve said when fucking or being fucked by Whitman goes something like this (in no particular order):

OHYES your mouth feels so good on my cunt!
OHMYGODYES Fuck. Me Harder!
I love your big hard cock, ohmygod it’s so perfect!
NEVER stop fucking me! I want you to FUCK ME ALL NIGHT LONG!
Oh, no! Not the <toy / instrument of pleasure / instrument of pain>!
Oh, YESSS!! The  <toy / instrument of pleasure / instrument of pain>!
Fuck my ass! Yes, yes, yes, I want you to fuck my ass!
I want you in my ass,  balls deep!

Breakthrough!  The other day, naked with my ass propped in the air (which was being inspected and smacked and FINALLY fucked  balls-deep by Whitman), I was THINKING those last four on the list. As he pounded my ass, It was VERY IMPORTANT to me that I convey to him “Please don’t stop.” The most I was able to formulate was the ‘YES! YES! FUCK YESSS!’

It did the trick. He didn’t stop. He was shocked, however, by my use of ACTUAL WORDS. He claims it’s the first. time. ever.

When he mentioned it, I told Whitman him that no, I’m pretty sure I’ve SAID THINGS out loud before, like “Fuck.” “OHMYGODFUCK.” or “Ohyes!” He insists no, that I mostly just ‘speak’ in variations of heavy breathing (I think this includes different ‘sex sounds’ like moaning and whimpering as well). I’m pretty sure this was a one-time event, BUT I’m PERFECTLY WILLING to try again to find out.  ;)

Mar 132011

I used my belt on her ass. Then rubbed her pussy with lube, then fingered her, then hitachi’d her pussy (with attachment), then hitachi’d her ass while I fucked her pussy. Then more belt.

THEN, I fucked her ass, hard, for a long time. Very hard.

Hot, but not us

Afterward, she said, “Thank you, for fucking my ass. That makes me so happy”.

I couldn’t help but agree.