Muffins and More

Perrin brought me breakfast in bed this morning. My absolute favourite breakfast, cheese and bacon muffins (with chive butter). That’s only part of what has made today such a great day for me.

First, some history. We’ve said we are open to playing with others. Well some time ago each of us found a special person to play with. More than just someone to have sex with, these were people we cared for and about. People we wanted to be ‘more than friends’. Any jealousy we might have had about this opening of our hearts to others was automatically offset by the sheer symmetry of it. You love her? Well I love him. Simple.

Life is never that simple. My relationship crumbled. I had hoped to salvage something meaningful from it, but have been dodging the inescapable truth. He’s just not that into me. We may be friends, but we’re not Friends. End of.

But learning that hurts. And in the process I have become fragile, vulnerable, and uncertain. I’ve struggled to write here, finding it hard to find my sexy side. I don’t want to be like that!

So here I am, being brought breakfast in bed. I’m loved, wanted, I’m happy.

Then a switchback; while making my breakfast Perrin has been chatting on twitter, a sexy fun conversation, with another woman. I find this upsetting, which is ridiculous. Objectively, nothing gives me cause for concern.  But I’m unhappy. I’m envious, that he has women to talk to, while I feel alone. No one talks to me that way.

So here is the bit where my husband really loves me. He messages someone who I’d pointed out as interesting, to encourage them to talk to me. Then he makes love to me, and gives me a delightful orgasm, before going away to leave me to chat ‘freely’ with them.

I felt a little out of my depth here, I’d never had that kind of conversation on twitter before. Hey, I’m not sure I’ve ever had that kind of conversation. I did all my dating before mobile phones. you can’t talk dirty on a phone screwed to the wall. As I lay there, I realised how excited I was by this, talking dirty with a relative stranger. I relaxed into it, and let his images carry me away, secure in the knowledge that Perrin wanted me to enjoy this moment. Suddenly there I was, cumming, for the second time that day, this time for another man.

That moment buoyed me up, let me feel truly sexy again. I have been smiling all day. A smile only made wider when my sexy husband made love to me yet again earlier, and gave me my third orgasm of the day. Me, who usually struggles to have one!

I feel like myself again, for the first time in ages. It’s a good feeling.


When I was growing up I went through the stage of looking up naughty words in the dictionary. Although I did certainly include the purely anatomical, the words which really moved me were the kinky ones.

Whip, spank, submission, humiliation.

That last one has always got the biggest reaction. A rush of heat comes to my cheeks just thinking of the word. It is humiliating too, to admit this reaction, even to myself, let alone here. Indeed just writing this is making me squirm.

*takes a deep breath*

So humiliation is a definite turn on for me. Mostly though it’s been something I’ve enjoyed in my own fantasies rather than in actual play. The most I usually get is a mild buzz (like when I’m called a slut) as part of a more physical scene. Today I got a surprise.

This morning started gently. Perrin curled up behind me making love to me. He was clearly feeling imaginative because he was talking as he moved inside me, describing scenarios with a third party (actually two of them, because they switched gender) which were so intense they practically made me cum, and brought Perrin to an excellent sounding orgasm.

The inevitable drawback of this, is that I have to wait longer for him to recover and hence to get an orgasm of my own, so I’d cooled down a little before he ordered me to roll over so he could play with my pussy.

He played with me for a little while, but I was struggling to reach an orgasm, and he became (I think) slightly distracted and started picking at my pubic hair. Perrin usually keeps me shaved, but we’ve been busy, and I’d been happy to give any ingrowing hairs time to grow out. So of course he found one, and after freeing it, pulled it out to show me how long it was!

I gasped, that little not quite ‘ow’ sound, which I know he loves. So naturally he did it again. Yow!

I said he was feeling imaginative, because he went back to playing with my clit, talking to me now, telling me how he could spend all evening plucking the hair from my pussy.

No. I mean really, no, and yet the rush of heat I felt in my cheeks and wetness between my legs was unmistakable.

His voice was soothing, pointing out that I’d said I didn’t like waxing because it hurt too much (it does, I scream). This on the other hand…

It was then I realised the rush I was feeling was one of humiliation. I still don’t quite get it. I don’t mind being shaved, and I have no problem with the idea of waxing (if only my pain threshold was higher). There is however something utterly humiliating about the idea of him plucking the hairs out of my pussy one by one.

I was lost, as he stimulated me, listening to him talk, imagining us curled up on the sofa, watching tv, my pussy uncovered and him tweaking the hairs out one by one. I heard him say he’d have to tie my hands. I was shamed again, aware of my fists clenched at my sides, making no move to stop him as he pulled yet another hair free. I heard my voice whispering ‘no, no, no’ but I couldn’t move.

I felt his fingers resting lightly on me, and knew with submissive certainty, that he was going to pluck another hair as I orgasmed. I felt that dreadful anticipation of pain, the knowledge that my pleasure would inevitably trigger it, and that thought pushed me over the edge, and I came.

Such a little thing, but something about this image has been holding me all day. Keeping me desperately aroused. There’s a buzzing in my head that will not stop, and I could scream. This stuff really turns me on.


It’s been a while since we had any sort of serious play (did I mention we’re busy with DIY) and I’d got to really wanting some. On Saturday morning I expressed this feeling to Perrin, and he told me I was getting a seriously whipped bottom that evening!

As part of this discussion he picked up a piece of gripper rod (the stuff that holds carpets down, I did mention the DIY right?) and told me to roll over onto my front. He then proceeded to tap my bottom with it, ever so gently, starting my imagination going. I have to admit I’d looked at it before speculatively (it had been lying around for a week), but actually feeling the spikes gently pressing into my bottom left me visualising a little row of red punctures, and wondering how badly it would hurt.

A month ago if he’d done that, I would have been standing, back to the wall, saying “No”. Making holes in me was definitely a limit, and I would have tensed right up and refused to let him near me while I thought he might breach that. How much more pleasurable simply to submit, to let that decision be his, to allow the possibility. In fact, more than accepting, I would have welcomed those pinpricks if it had been his desire to inflict them.

As it turned out, it wasn’t. Curled up that evening we talked, and then he positioned me on my front. Spreading the duvet over me, covering my head, my body, my legs, leaving only my bottom and feet exposed. I lay warm and comfortable, cocooned in softness. He fetched the horsehair flogger, and began to whip me. First the soles of my feet. There’s a word for that, “bastinado” and it echoed through my head, as I breathed in the pain, and the comfort. Then Perrin’s attention moved to my bottom. I was enjoying this immensely, each stroke was thudding into me, but then in the spaces between there was warmth and softness. I pushed my bottom up, offering myself to him, to the pain. As he whipped me then, the strokes fell on my pussy lips, until I flattened out again, frustrated at my own weakness.

Perrin must have alternated between my bottom and my feet for a while, as I drifted in timeless surrender. He paused at one point, and when he returned he had brought a new weapon with him, the saw! It made the most wonderful noise, and was an altogether different sensation, flat and flexible, with the added frisson of knowing it had teeth. As I started to feel the pain might become too much, Perrin’s hands were on me, moving my knees apart and raising my bottom in the air, and I knew what must follow.

To my intense relief, he switched back to the flogger at this point, as he whipped my pussy. I tried to hold position, but found myself writhing with each stroke, until he had to reposition me. He continued to whip me, until I felt myself on the edge of tears. He paused again here, and I allowed my hand to curl over my sore pussy to comfort it briefly. He returned then, ordering my hand out of the way, but this time so he could mount me. He pounded into me then, his hands stroking where he had whipped me. Then finally, he ordered me to turn over, and I could stretch out beneath him, and joy of joys, orgasm with him inside me, before he came too.

I drifted into sleep after this, blissfully happy, and awoke in the morning still glowing with happiness (and still with a very sore bottom). I’m such a lucky girl.

Play O – Review

We recently bought some Durex ‘Play O’ lubricant which claims to “stimulate, increase desire and bring you the most intense orgasms you’ve ever experienced”, which seemed like an interesting claim. Given the difficulty I sometimes have cumming, it was certainly an appealing option.

The packaging was beautiful. A lovely little glass pot, which you screw the pump top into. It had that perfume packaging feel, which given that it was similarly expensive is a good thing.

Perrin applied it  over my pussy, and instantly it felt cold, like menthol. Then it began to burn. I certainly felt an increased desire at this point. I couldn’t decide if the sensations were pleasant  or painful. I guess in some ways it didn’t matter.

We made love, and then Perrin masturbated me to orgasm, after a second application of the gel. I have to say, I didn’t feel that it made it any easier for me to reach orgasm (it took ages), and although the orgasm was intense, it wasn’t any more intense than normal (I may not cum easily but when I do it’s Good).

On the whole, interesting, but not any more fun than ginger *grins*. I guess we’ll enjoy using it up, but I don’t see us buying it again.


Currently I seem to be having a lot of trouble reaching orgasm.

I’ve never found it particularly easy, mind you. I pretty much have to be able to tense my legs out straight, which means a lot of physical positions almost guarantee I won’t be able to cum. And Perrin says I ‘orgasm like a boy’, by which he means I get one (huge) orgasm and then I’m spent. I can’t bear to be touched for a bit, and generally just want to go to sleep.

Recently though, it’s been harder and harder to actually reach orgasm. It’s not as though I’m not turned on, I’ve been pretty desperate to cum. It just takes ages. It’s probably not helped by the fact that I end up feeling guilty that Perrin is having to work so hard to get me there. I know he wants me to cum, and I want to oblige, so how can it be so hard?

Whenever I read erotica (or other peoples blogs) I get slightly depressed by the descriptions of girls ‘cumming and cumming’ at the slightest touch or even word. It sounds fantastic, I just wish I could! Perrin even said he wished I could cum on command, and I know he’s not (just) being lazy. Actually, part of me thinks that’s not possible, but then again it’s possible to masturbate without using your hands, so theoretically maybe it is.

All of which leaves me wondering. Do I need to do anything to get back to my normal, only moderately difficult to cum, state, or will I bounce back naturally? Is there anything I can do to make myself cum more readily? No answers today, only questions.