Daddy’s Home

Good morning.  I missed posting last night.  With Daddy returning home and the election, I was distracted from writing.  

So happy Daddy is home!  We had dinner together and listened to my son lose his mind over his first election.  It was entertaining to say the least.  This has been the first time he’s been aware and involved in the whole process.  It was telling to hear how his uneducated focus was filled with the rhetoric of the internet.  I have worked to be his voice of reason by filling in the details of how government in the US works.  We’ve been working on an essay about George Washington’s presidential qualities at the same time.  Hopefully, some of our talks sink into his maturing psyche to offset all the hype and drama out there. A mother can only hope. 

Daddy is sick so I didn’t expect we’d have sex but true to our dynamic we did.  We seem to plough through whatever adversity with our sexual attraction to each other leading the way.  Yay. 

God, I needed him.  His touch and our connection light me on fire and warm me through and through.  No matter if it is a full blown scene or simply perfunctory before bed vanilla sex, I need him and it sates my ache.  

So, hopefully this fills my quota for last night’s talk and I will talk to you again tonight.  Love and hugs.  No matter if you are pleased with the election or think the cart is now off the rails, the kinky world will go on.  

Big fluffy booby hugs my people. 😘

Longing

The other night Daddy and I had some unexpected alone time.  Living together has been amazing but one change is that I see Daddy every day not just the times I’m free from parenting.  So, having alone time together is just as much a ‘thing’ as it was before but different somehow.  Now, I get to see him every day but not every day is sexual time.  Now, all our time is together.  One result of this is we can’t have sex every time the mood strikes, another is we’re not missing each other so desperately by the time we get to be alone.

I long for our alone time.  Monday while we were having sex, I got so turned on and so wound up.  I felt really close to subspace without any dominance pushing me there. I felt that frenzy of need.  Looking back, I think it was a matter of seeing Daddy all week but not having that sexual time whenever we want it.  It is like a slow burn.  It resides in the background until a match is lit.

Eye of the Beholder

I had a suspicion but yesterday it hit me full force.  I am more beautiful for Daddy.  It goes deeper than me trying harder to please him.  Daddy loves girly girls.  I want to please him so I am always aware in my choice of dress such that I please him and dress femininely.

Deeper than that though, I am Daddy’s type.  When he ogles other women or points out curvy women to me they are usually typed very near to how I look.  If a girl has ample breasts, a tiny waist with a full round ass and hips then I know Daddy will like her.  I love seeing him admire them.  I love knowing deep down to his core that he desires me exactly as I am.

My first husband told me I was beautiful every day.  I believed he thought so on some level.  He loved that I always made an effort, always dressed nicely, always took care of the details.  I know he thought my face beautiful. But, and here’s the big difference, he hated that I was fat. He told me in a thousand different unspoken little ways how much he wished I was thin again.  Whether he was sober or drunk, verbal or non-verbal, I was sensitive to it and I read the cues.

My Ex told me once that it was a shame that he was a leg man and I was made for boob men.  Later, he told me I converted him but sadly I never truly believed him.  But when Mr. D tears off my shirt simply because he wants to watch my tits bounce and roll as he fucks me…I know, I don’t have to wonder or ask, he loves them.  His eyes caress and fondle my breasts all the time.  I feel him and I feel sexual.

I live in and own my sexual being with Mr. D.  I notice that when he takes my picture, I look more beautiful and more sexual in those pictures.  In the pictures he takes, I look like I feel in those moments.  I am sexual and I can see the heat and passion and love for him in those images.  

Yesterday, a really close friend sent me a picture of myself.  He is a graphic designer and a professional photographer.  You’d think his photos of me would be fabulous.  Once in a great while they are.  They do always show my joy of life and my happiness, I will say that.  But in almost all the photos he’s taken of me I look awful in some physical way.  In his photos, my double chin looks hugely apparent or my hair is fuzzy, or some other flaw is highlighted. There is usually something wrong.  The only thing I can correlate it to is our connection and his view of me.  He is a generally critical person and he sees all those flaws.  It makes him a great designer but loses something of the magic of life, I think. Photography is so much more in the eye of the beholder than I ever thought possible. 

So, for another of the countless times a day or a week, I am truly thankful for Daddy and how he sees me.  I love being his sexual beast and love how he brings out the true and beautiful me.

Words

His words oh his words

They take me on a ride 

Through my darkest places

Each syllable caresses

A wave of emotion to ride

Surrounding me within him

The meanings fill me

His dark intent made clear

With loving torture

Each staccato riff cuts

Each baritone whisper soothes

My mind on the knife’s edge

I live in the notes of his play

My soul dances with his 

I am crushed and reborn

He makes me his whore

My identity his to take

Owned and set free

Word by word a new vista

An aural heaven found

Bliss wrapped in care

Evil incarnate cradles me

My psyche in his talons

Inky corridors my home

Fulfilled in his dark depths

Made whole in his realm

Please keep me here forever

Marathon Sex – Part III

“You are going to calm down and then you will worship Daddy’s cock. Do you want to do that?”  Oh god, I had no idea at that point.

I nodded yes. “Yes, Daddy.” The good girl is ingrained.  My service is certain.  My mind and body would catch up…hopefully.

“I’ve leaked all over the floor. Look what you’ve done to me.” He took a finger with a big glob of his pre-come on it and put it on my lips.  I licked it timidly at first, still panting from my orgasm.  Then I tasted him and felt his thick finger in my mouth and sucked it voraciously.  Yes, I wanted my mouth on him. He lay on the bed and I knelt between his legs.  My breath still labored.  I licked his cock.  It was slow and steady licking, up and down the shaft until I could breathe again.  Then I began to suck his cock into my mouth.  I savored the feel and taste of him. I pushed my mouth all the way down his shaft.  I know how he loves feeling his cock in the depths of my throat.  He says he can feel a ridge and a constriction when the head pops into the canal.  I feel different things in each position.  In between his legs is the best for me or on my knees.  Both ways I can get him deeper than any other position. As I pushed down I sucked him deep into my throat.  I could feel how my jaw had been pounded by the face fucking earlier.  I could feel a tightness and tiredness there.  That was new.  I pushed past it and sucked on the head of his cock.  Daddy says men love deep throat because it strokes the tip and the base at the same time so I practice moving my throat muscles and my lips to caress him completely.

While I did this, Daddy took out his computer. “I’m going to give you my come to swallow little girl. Do you want that?” I nodded, face full of cock.  Yes, I wanted to swallow his come.  “My little come bucket. Mmm.”  He turned on porn and I continued sucking him.  Why does being humiliated verbally work to incite me so thoroughly?  Is it just the way he does it?  Is it that it puts me in a deeper place of submission and service?  I don’t know but I do know beyond any doubt that his objectifying me like that turns me the fuck on.  The sounds of the porn in the background made me wet and I doubled my efforts at sucking him.  Sexual sounds really do a number on me.  He took over several times and stroked his cock while I waited between his legs.  Finally, he said, “Take it, take my come!” and shoved his cock deep in my mouth spurting his load into my throat.  I swallowed and swallowed.  He had a lot to give. It had been a long week.

Afterwards, we were resting and talking. I was really surprised he had gotten so much out of me that night.  Even on a weeknight with crap on my mind he can get me out of my head and play.  As we were talking he wanted to show me the porn he had watched.  I was completely sated and didn’t feel anything watching the porn.  It was definitely one I would get off watching.  It was two girls and a guy.  That’s one of my favorite scenes and both the women were really hot.  But I was done.  Then I remembered that Daddy had this scene of a woman getting fucked by several fucking machines.  She was a squirter and made such great noises and facial expressions when she came.  I said I wanted to see it again sometime so he got it out right then.  I really wanted to go to bed but he put her on anyway.

As I watched this woman get fucked and heard the noises she made, I began to get turned on all over again. She is so hot and she takes so many different sizes for so long.  After a while she is in a fever of fucking need.  Each time she squirted she’d grab the dildo and shove it right back inside herself.  I feel that way with Daddy sometimes.  When porn can make you feel something you already know, something that makes you hot…it works.  Daddy looked over at me, “You’re getting turned on.” He said, surprised.  He kissed me then and we began all over again.  He flipped me over and mounted me.  He fucked me hard and fast.  I was on fire so fast.  My whole body and mind was at once soaked with the need of him.  He fucked, I responded.  The day, the stress, everything was gone.  All I felt and saw and knew was him.  His cock, his heat, his body, his sex.  He lit me up like Times Square.  I moaned, I cried out, I begged and pleaded for him to keep fucking me.  It was lightning hot.  I lost all control and soon I heard him yell and felt his come blast into me hot and thick.  Fuck, that was good.

Write

Daddy and I are in the midst of a fire storm of lust.  Lust is ephemeral, it ebbs and flows naturally but right now it is hot and palpable between us.  We are three days into some intense connection with no signs of a slow down.

Today we ran errands and had lunch.  We just returned and while he used the bathroom, I enjoyed a little rest on the bed checking up on social media. I’m dressed for Daddy today.  I have on black tights that have a sexy cross stitch up the leg, a black body suit with a low cut V-neck and a tiny Minnie Mouse skirt of polka dots.

He told me he’d be going out to enjoy a cigar and that we’d nap afterwards in preparation for our evening.  Relaxed and easy, I thought.  Until he started feeling my ass and thighs through the leggings.  He ran his hands over the slinky material then his teeth sank into my ass.  Damn, he drives me insane with need.  He bit and moved, bit and moved, the material of the leggings doing nothing to impede him or his teeth from making contact with my tender ass.  When he bit the sensitive meridian between ass and thigh I clearly yelped.  My body and mind reacted to him in a rush.

His hands moved up my back, pushing me into the bed.  Over and over, he pushed me down.  It felt divine.  I love him manhandling me.  He grabbed my hair at the back of my head and yanked me up from the bed. “You are a Goddess.  You turn me on.  You will take this energy and write for me.  Is that clear?”

“Yes,  yes Daddy.  I will.”

“Yes, you will.” He pulled down my pants and unsnapped the body suit.  His fingers pushed into my sex.  Damn, he sends wildfire through me with his touch.  He pumped his finger into my sex and then tasted my juices on him.  “Here, you need to taste this too.” His finger plunged in me again and was then presented to my lips.  I suckled as commanded.

He pulled down his jeans, he was standing near the bed.  He took a handful of my hair and pushed me towards him.  My lips wrapped around the dripping head of his cock.  I tasted him and moaned.  I tasted us together and ached to keep sucking him. He pulled away from me then.  “I’ll be back in a hour.  Write.”

Reality Becomes Fantasy

I was laying in Daddy’s bed and decided to play with myself.  He had left for work and I’d have to leave soon myself.  We had such a great, huge steak dinner Daddy made the night before that neither of us had wanted sex.  But when I woke up in the morning I was aching for him.  

He had been talking the night before about when he chooses to fuck someone else.  We are in an open relationship after all.  I want us both to have that option but I’m  secretly scared for when it happens.  

Granted, I still haven’t told you about my play session or my telling him about it, I’ll get to that.  But last evening he was talking about his future playing.  He was telling me that he invests so much heat into any tryst that the women always want him more and sometimes they get catty about it.  It was some kind of warning but my mind was more wrapped around thoughts of him with other women than about how I would have to deal with them.

As I was laying there, I couldn’t get the thought of him with another woman out of my head. I thought about him on top of a plump and juicy girl, his cock buried up inside her.  I couldn’t see her face because he was in the way.  I just saw her legs wrapped around him while he ground into her. I touched myself then.

As this point, my little scenario took on a life of its own. He looked over to me with a grin on his face. “Watch me fuck this girl, my little slut.” I realized I was kneeling beside the bed watching them.

“Yes Sir, I am.” I felt so turned on and yet he could see the trepidation my eyes. I could feel him reading me as he does.  He had that dominant look on his face.  All the while he continued to fuck her.

“Don’t worry slut, I’m still going to give you my come.  Would you like that?”  I nodded and felt relief that he wanted to give me that even though he was fucking her. He would pull out and I would suck him dry like I do when he masturbates.

I heard her moaning and watched him pump her as he turned back to what he was doing.  He looked over at me a couple times as he fucked her and I saw something there that I didn’t catch quickly enough.

“Come here slut.” I leaned over the bed close to him as I he began the panting that leads up to him orgasming. I got ready for him. He thrust in her harder and faster and then I saw a momentary impish glint in his eyes as he thrust deep and came inside the other girl.

I felt so betrayed in that split second until he said, “There you go baby girl, now you can have my come.” I looked down at her dripping pussy and realized the full extent of what he meant. 

I felt like such a slave right then and I came so hard.

Hooky – Part One

Last Monday Daddy and I played hooky from work.  I had my play session with Nox a few days before. Daddy and I only had one night to reconnect after that. I was right at the heaviest part of my period, not the best timing. We had been texting each other and missing each other all weekend.  Sunday night as we’re texting Daddy says, “I’ll play hooky from work if you want to see me.”  I was so tempted but I had a busy schedule the whole next day.  After giving it some thought I threw caution to the winds and said yes.

I took the boy to school on Monday and drove up to Daddy’s.  By the time I got there is was almost 9am. Daddy was waiting in the living room for me.  All the roommates had gone to work so we had the place to ourselves. I had missed him so much over the weekend.  We had talked about me playing with Nox and everything was fine but it put us both in a heightened state.  For me, I felt so much more in need of connection with Daddy. I needed to know in a visceral way that everything was good and we were strong. Mr. D’s reaction to my play had been everything I would have wanted.  It made me appreciate him even more than I already did.

We kissed and I was in awe all over again at our passion for each other.  When I kissed him it felt so right, so white hot. He took me into the bedroom and our joining was immediate.  I needed him inside me and I think he needed to claim me again.   He pulled out of me and told me to taste us on him.  He made sure that I was clean and done with my period.  I said I was and knelt between his legs.  I love the taste of us together.  Our juices joined on his cock and the taste was incredible as I licked it off.

He had me lay on my stomach on the bed. He wanted to play with my ass.  His fingers opening me there and stretching me made me cry out without any control.  I lose my sanity a little and the most guttural sounds come out. After preparing me for a while I knew he was going to fuck my ass.  As much as he makes sure I’m relaxed, stretched and lubed there is nothing that mentally prepares me for this.  He is so girthy and it is always frightening.  I breath and relax as he tells me to do.  He prepares me and when he finally mounts me there is still a point where I’m sure I’m going to tear. It is not reality, it is just what I go through mentally to let it happen. Something about it works for me and our kink.  It gives me a reason to sacrifice for him, to submit and take it for him.

My breathing gets rapid, I force myself to relax and be still.  He pushes himself into my asshole and at some point, just as I’m about to bolt, it goes in.  Then the game completely changes.  He moves and my body reacts.  I am an animal rutting under another stronger animal.  My mind seems to quiet and recede.  It is all about sensation and dominance then.  Sometimes I notice I’m gripping the bed, other times I feel the weight of his hand on my back.  But mostly I just feel the intensity of the pleasure. It’s so different from vaginal sex.  I can’t fully describe it.  It is primal and so close to the edge for me. 

He pumped into me several times and slipped out.  When he pulled back up to put his cock in again I had to bite the sheets so I didn’t beg him to stop.  Once in, everything is moving and the most intense pleasure but when he’s out again I go through the same process all over again. Shortly afterwards he pulled out and said, “Follow me into the living room.” With the roommates at work we had a rare opportunity to use the whole house. He put me over the arm of the couch and mounted me there.  I thought it would be regular sex but he was in my ass again and I cried out with trepidation and more intense pleasure.  With my body flung over the couch, I felt him pump into me harder and faster than before. I was so happy for the feel of the couch supporting me under the onslaught of his thrusts. 

Doggie style sex is always something we’re adjusting for because his center of gravity is lower than mine. I have long legs and he has a long torso.  The couch arm only worked for a short time then he moved us onto the couch cushions.  He put me on my back and had me hold my knees up to my chest.  He got on his knees between my legs and pushed up against my ass one more time.  I looked up at him with what must have been sheer terror.  “No please Daddy.” I was completely fine but to mentally get over the hump again so soon seemed insurmountable. 

“You’re fine baby girl.  I know you are worried about this position but it will be fine, I promise.” He pushed into my ass one last time.  I looked up into his eyes as I felt him filling my ass so deep and so tightly.  I felt my eyes cloud over as I know they must when he fucks my ass.  I can’t help it.  But I kept my eyes on him as much as I could even while he ripped the moans from me again.

“Oh baby, it’s so amazing to look into your eyes while I’m deep in your ass.” I nodded while I gasped.  I hadn’t realized until he said that that we had never done this face to face before. It was such a sharing of deep emotion, I can’t describe it.  

Feather

I was a little drunk, just a little.  Daddy used a feather duster and tickled my fancy with it.  🙂

I was drifting on a sea of sensation.  The feathers tickled my feet and my legs, then my thighs and my sex.  You would think feathers would not really do much.  But on my pussy they were intense and provocative.  The way he tantalized my sex with those fluttery bits of fluff was enough to drive me wild.  Each tap, tap, tap would somehow flick my clit and drive me further over the edge.

Then he used the hard intensity of the cane as a counterpoint.  Pain then pleasure. When he flipped me over, I was over eager for him to take me.  I begged him.  He winds me up and I must beg him before he’ll give me what I need.  It just kills me but it also spins my need for him to fuck me beyond any need I’ve ever felt.

As he finally fucked me he continued to use the evil cane.  He tap, tap, tapped it on my breasts.  Short easy little taps then a couple hard shocking snaps.  One fell right on my nipple and I could feel the pain bloom inside my breast and spread throughout my body.  It is pain like that that makes me despair when I don’t slip over into that elusive subspace.  God, I wish I was there at times like those.  But it was not to be.  I needed to be in the moment with Daddy so I was. 

Addiction

I have Saturday’s scenario to write about but all I can think about right now is Mr. D taking me to another place. It’s kind of insane how much my body and mind aches for his Dominance. I want him constantly. It dulls down when life is difficult and my plate is very full but then I am in his presence again. I have him around me and the aching need comes over me like a wave of heat. I do my best to be a good girlfriend and a good person, taking care of regular life duties. Deep inside, though, I have this desire to be his little slave and bow to him and serve him and to give all my body and soul to him.

I want this because his touch and his Dominance on me feel like a drug. I feel that addictive sensation of wanting nothing more than to be his little play thing and do whatever he commands, whatever he deems worthy and will thrill him. I’ve always known I’m submissive but this feels like something more. He burns a wildfire in me that I’ve never felt. His darkness makes my heart sing. His touch and his strength fill me with heat and with dread and with wantonness that continues to flourish and grow.