Field is another scavenger hunt location.
I’ve been busy and haven’t really been posting here much despite continuing to have fun and to explore my kinky side. So maybe it’s time for a change, a fresh lick of paint and a few fun adventures. If nothing else I can spend some time playing with WordPress and tweaking this blog a little.
Let’s see what happens…
I’ve been thinking about my ‘submissive’ fantasies and why I have them when I don’t really want to be submissive at all.
Actually when I look at it most (maybe all) of those fantasies are sexual. Let’s face it; ‘nice’ girls aren’t supposed to enjoy sex, these days it’s not even always safe to enjoy sex and anyway Dommes are supposed to be ice queens denying everybody sex.
So, that doesn’t leave many places to go with a slutty sexual fantasy. Whoever I am being, I’m not supposed to be the one being the centre of sexual attention (these days that’s surely Mat’s role) even if I’d like it. Plus while I like the idea of slutty sex (no I’m not putting the details in this post but you could read my fantasies for ideas), where on earth does one find clean, STD-free cock, that comes with an intelligent, considerate and consent aware person on the other end.
Actually, I can find those, but then when you like and respect the person on the other end, I feel rather uncomfortable about asking them to be part of my fantasies (especially if it involves multiple men which experience so far leads me to feel most men are less keen on).
Even the non-sexual aspects of those fantasies are about permission to enjoy myself, to enjoy sensations, pure physical moments without feeling guilty that I’m ‘making’ someone else do something for me, that they’re only doing it to please me, that I’m being selfish for demanding it of them.
Really (and I know some of my readers will throw something at the screen at this point) I don’t want to be a bother to anyone. Fantasies, especially submissive ones, are my way of setting up a scene where I know that I’m not a bother, where I can enjoy getting what I want, without asking and therefore without feeling guilty either for the desire itself or the imposition on someone else’s pleasure.
Whereas in real life I want (and need) to feel in control because trust does not come easy. Plus all that planning and negotiating is sometimes an unreasonable amount of effort for something I can happily enjoy in my head safely, any time I please, without any worries at all.
So fantasies are a great escape into great sex. For me, it doesn’t always need to be real, because in my head it always is.
Mat was feeling slutty. He had been feeling that way for a while and his need was boiling over in him. I should probably point out that I had (originally) no intention of letting him cum that day and he knew it.
Lunch was leftover pizza from the night before. Well brunch really. Actually I mean, despite the lateness of the hour, it was actually breakfast – but pizza for breakfast is good, right?
I’d heated it up in the oven and was offering Mat some but he was initially reluctant. Then he suggested (frivolously) he could spunk on a slice of seafood pizza and then eat it.
Oh, so much, yes.
I gave him a plate with the one remaining slice of seafood pizza (tuna, onion, prawns and double anchovies) and sat back with my own plate of pizza to watch the show.
Mat was feeling slutty. He was naked, wanking his cock and telling me his filthy fantasies. Expressing a desire to suck cock, to be spunked on and to have his virgin cunt raped by an enormous cock.
That fantasy wasn’t enough for him alone, he needed more. He requested permission to use a toy and I granted it. He fetched my big blue dildo and proceeded to fuck himself on it eagerly.
I watched, I ate pizza, I tweaked his nipples and slapped his balls and told him what a filthy slut he was. I enjoyed the show.
He came, like a good boy, on his slice of pizza and then, like a good boy, he ate it up. Grimacing in the aftermath, a pizza almost too salty even for my anchovy loving Boy.
A pizza with a topping you can’t order.