Posts tagged birthday
Sex Stoned

In the beginning I worried that Mr Right and I wouldn’t be a good match in the sack.  We had chemistry and really enjoyed one another’s company, but historically I’d needed some very rough handling to be satisfied in bed and Mr Right wasn’t the sadistic type.  So I figured we’d canoodle for a while until we got bored with one another. In the meantime I would enjoy the heck out of tying up this hot young fellow. It would be a sweet but brief adventure…

Fast forward a couple months to a weekend fairly recently: Mr Right and I (still happily in a canoodleship)  are wandering through Cathedral Park.  He’s taking pictures and I’m, well, hugging a bush.  A literal bush. I’m also petting the large white fluffly flower poofs that cover it because this is the softest thing I’ve ever felt in my life. 

Mr Right eventually stops shooting bees and flowers and notices his lady friend elbow deep in a tree and comes to investigate.  “This is the best flower! Have you seen this? They all look like animal heads!  How have I never noticed this flower before?  I’m going to cuddle it again.  Stop judging me.”

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No one can blame him for capturing this moment with his camera.  “This is going to be great black mail material.”

“Shush you, you did this to me!  Stop being smug you brain chemical altering beast.”

He just smirks at me, amused and enjoying the show.  As he should.  The only drugs I’m on in this moment are the ones we’d created in bed earlier that afternoon.  Using only the powers of his impressive digital dexterity, oxytocin, intimacy and--okay there was a little spanking in there too--he had more than satisfied me in the sack.  He had gone so far as to briefly break my brain, flooding it with so many orgasmic happy chemicals I’d never been more high in my life.

My early worries had been for nothing, it had just taken us a bit to figure each other out and a couple of really sexy talks to find out what the other needed to get off.  Now we inhabit this glorious and dangerous state of sexual exploration in which very little is out of bounds. But there’s a lot of talking involved.  People who don’t think communication is sexy are missing out!  Because heavy duty communicating is what got me so well fucked I’d become obsessed with embracing flora.

It started with, “What one thing (sexual or otherwise) do you want for your birthday?”

He had already agreed to hang out with my friends on the actual day and was whisking me away to Seattle for a lovey dovey adventure, and I was allowed to ask for more?  Who is this person that actually seems to like me and can talk about feelings and desires? Whatever was going on I liked it!

“Well no surprise, I’d enjoy getting tied up and you know a spanking is traditional.”

“Hmm I’ll see what I can do.”

Problem was we were too tipsy on my actual birthday for more than fumbling silly sex (though he did manage to restrain me to the bed with Velcro cuffs and give me a good tease regardless) and the room we stayed in Seattle was too echoey for kinky shenanigans with our hosts a thin floor away.  So by the time our schedules lined up a week later we were both a little (read: a lot) pent up. 

We fell into bed minutes after getting home from a hike, sweaty bodies made sweatier with lust.  “Do you want your birthday present?”  He asks from behind me.

“Um, yes!”

He strips me and bends me over the bed, being more aggressive than usual.  And my blood goes hot with anticipation.  It’s been a while since I’ve given up control but so my everything is thrilled to be given this sexy break from reality.  But it’s not enough to have me bent over his mattress, Mr Right shoves me down prone, ass in the air so I’m exposed to him and my hands splayed in front of me.  These he gathers together and uses one of his hands to pin them down.  My breathing quickens with excitement.  His other hand makes contact with my ass.  The smack of skin on skin loud in the quiet room.  I gasp, he isn’t fooling around.

I turn my head as much as I can given the position to look at him.  His eyes are different, somehow harder, but he gives me an aw shucks shrug as if to say “yeah I’m doing this all the way.”  Mr Right shoves my grinning face back into the bed before going back to the doling out of my belated spanking, a beating that has even a hardcore masochist like myself squirming at times.

When he finishes, he curls up beside me, holding me.  It isn’t long before I catch my breath and crawl a top him to take him in my mouth, hungry for the taste of him, to have him as close as possible.  I lap at him deeply, enjoying his sighs of pleasure as my tongue dances along his cock.

Wordlessly he grabs for a condom and he’s inside me, the weight of him engulfing me so that I’m gasping at his first thrust, biting at his shoulder.  Every nerve ending is on edge after the spanking, that unexpected treat, and he fits so well that the pleasure is abundant.  More so when he slips a hand between our bodies to play at my clit in time to his thrusts.  I’m moaning and grasping at his back and ass like a crazed person, overtaken by lust and seemingly endless orgasms. 

For the second time that afternoon when we make eye contact I widen my eyes in surprise at him.  This only seems to encourage him because instead of stopping or slowing his ministrations when I’ve come so many times that all I can do is giggle, he continues.  Words vaguely related to “no, oh please, sheesh”  come out of my mouth but I don’t mean them and even if I did he’s taken ownership of my body at this point.  So I’m powerless to do anything other than to enjoy his touch, the joy of him inside me.  My pleasure becoming his and vice versa.  Soon we’re both coming and collapsing in a sweaty laughing pile.

One more orgasm, a kazoo briefly confused for lube, and a tiny nap later we’re falling out of bed for substance, water, and that silly walk through the park as an excuse to enjoy the sunshine. High on my own brain I watch Mr Right kneel to commune with flowers and trees, capturing them with the lens of his camera with the same attention to detail with which he’d earlier fucked me silly and I smile, feeling pretty damn fortunate.   So I go cuddle a bush to celebrate.  

Happy Birthday to Me: Rope Journaling 7-26

A year ago I wouldn't have believed anything about this weekend. That I would be with someone like you. So comfy and unafraid. So well liked and able to show affection in return. That everything is so easy. That we would be on a trip together reclaiming the ugliness of our pasts. Kissing and caressing away the rough edges other lovers left behind. Hand in hand sharing sweetness and silliness where there had been tears or heartbreak before. 

 

Where did you come from? This young body/old soul fitting against mine. Popping up when I would be most likely to see and enjoy you as I wouldn't have been able or willing before. Life introducing us when we both seem so ready to learn from old mistakes in order to move on to bigger and better things.

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You are like a calming influence, taming the wild thing I used to be. Making me at ease with who I am and what I like. No shame in making myself physically and emotionally naked to you. You tame the wild me who once needed so much but never felt close to satisfaction. That me always needed more. But you fill me to bursting with happiness and a thrum of pleasure. I sleep (well, as much as either of us sleep) contentedly next to you, feeling close to someone like I never have before. Secure. Seen. Valued. You turn towards me instead of away.

 

It wasn't orgams or bodies or intensity I was looking for. It was intimacy. That secretly calming influence was the secret ingredient I had been missing all these years. And it's there when I look into your eyes and tell you how I feel and you smile the words back. Or when I thank you for trusting me and giving me the gift of being trustworthy in return. Or when I make myself vulnerable to you and you enjoy it, sighing and pulling me closer as I let myself go with you as I do with so few. There's no judgement, only exploration between us as we reclaim in the bedroom as well. “You're not good at that” or “ew I would never do that” turns into “I'm willing to try” and “I look forward to experimenting with that again.” Smiles and shakey legged exhaustion follow our bedroom talks as I continue to learn something new about you each time.

 

You take my lust and my limerence and ask for more instead of less. You ask for more time, more experience, more knowledge. You say needy with quotation marks while kissing me instead of needy as an accusation. But I don't feel needy for you I just feel respected and wanted. No need just a preference for you. You close is better by far than you at a distance.  Your body near and wrapped around mine all night. Your smile frequent and close and you understanding my weird as I try to understand yours.

 

A year ago i would have laughed at anyone who would have told me how I would spend my week turning a year older. That it would go smoothly. That I would happily consent to Star Trek and D&D exhibits along side Babeland and beaches. That we would become more entangled instead of less. That at least one birthday wouldn't involve a break up or heartbreak of any kind. That a man I've known for a couple months would know and care what makes me happy better than the boys I knew before him. That we would find the simplest most childlike happiness together, in exploring a city while finding the intersection where our interests meet in the streets and in the sheets. Exploring food and drink and bags full of tricks and rope.

 

You gave me everything I wanted and all the things I didnt know to ask for or was allowed to long for. All I wanted was to have fun with no crisis or tears. What I got was a week full of friends, drinks, and love. Followed by a weekend getaway. You by my side, hand on the small of my back, kisses and sass at the ready. Even the tides being turned as I found myself tied up and submitting to your surprises. Me covered in bruises for a change. You holding me down to say, “oh did you think I would untie you now? Ha!” Your expert teasing.

 

You continue to surprise me lover with your willingness. Your glee. Your saying yes. Your eagerness to please. You've tamed me so that I'm not wild thing any longer. Still wacky and weird and slutty for sure but settled just enough to be comfortable in my own skin.  I feel like I could have anything I want but all I want right now is this relative calmness. Spending my free time finding myself and a better way through life instead of on endless dates, always hunting for more. I have just enough to keep me in trouble with the promise of more when I'm ready.


A year ago this isn't where or who I thought I'd be. And it's thrilling and beautiful. You're a sweet bonus, an extra special sexy birthday gift in it all. In this world gone insane it's hard to believe you're part of my sanity. Crazier things have happened I suppose.