☝️❤️
I hope so!💙💗
Can I resubmit my question?
Month: March 2018
The Addams Family, 1991.
*cough* @belovedsangi *cough*
Eeeeeeee!!! ❤❤❤
I’ve always thought those two were the hottest and most well adjusted couple ever.
What made you want to be poly?
Because I’m absolutely in love with falling in love.
Because I live for the moment when your stomach drops out underneath you and your pulse races and you realize with absolute certainty that you’re going to be kissed for the first time.
Because I want to know people. REALLY KNOW PEOPLE. I want to get inside them and learn their dark places and discover the strange ways our edges fit together. I want to learn and teach and create and grow and grow.
Because I want to offer support and ask for support and be strong together and be weak together.
Because I have so much strength to offer, it feels stifling to mould my energy to one solitary partner’s needs.
Because I have so many weaknesses, so many imperfections, so many egregious flaws, insecurities, and doubts, it feels unfair to foist them all on one, lonely human, to demand that they understand me perfectly, that they always be enough.
Because I see humans like prisms, refracting their personalities like light, and because I gain nourishment for each band of color within myself from different people and different experiences.
Because nothing in the world feels more natural to me than kissing my friends. Or holding my friends. Or fucking my friends.
Because I want to live in a warm. bolstering place in this cold, touch-starved world. And I’ve managed to create one for myself.
Because it’s worth the effort it takes to make it work, and my work to maintain my lifestyle has nourished the best parts of me – honesty, self-knowledge, respect, bravery, and compassion.
Because why the hell are we on this poorly-insulated rock of a planet if we aren’t going to grab life with both hands and have as many experiences as we possibly can?
Because this is who I am. This is what brings me joy. And who doesn’t want to feel joyful?
All of this 😍
I Appreciate
“Go on. Struggle. I like it when you struggle.” He crooned in my ear, his voice all the more domineering for its soft, low tone.
I tried to push against him, to hiss my frustration. But he had me pinned tightly beneath him: pressed front facing into the mattress trapping my arms underneath, my legs forced wide by his and mouth clamped shut with his hand.
“You’re mine.” He released my mouth. “Say it.”
“I’m yours I’m yours I’m yours” I gabbled in a rush.
“Yes.” He confirmed, covering both my mouth and nose this time. “Mine.”
With that claim, he thrust his hard cock inside my cunt, already wet in its neediness. I tried to moan at the fullness, the delicious stretching feeling, but there was no air. My lungs began to burn.
“Such a helpless, little fuck toy. My little fuck toy.” I wriggled and struggled against him, but the only movement I could make was to rock back further onto his cock, pushing him deeper inside me. He groaned and loosened his hand. I gasped free for a second, then his hand tightened again.
“So desperate for air, and all you can do is fill your needy pussy with my cock.” My lungs on fire, I rocked back against him over and over, unable to moan my arousal or beg to breathe. The helplessness span through me, my nerves ablaze with the pleasure and pain.
“Only a filthy slut would get so tight and wet when she’s forced down like this.” His words pooled in my cunt, coating his cock with my fresh arousal, and I burned with humiliation at the feel of my own wetness. My mind was singing for air; I was trying to kick free and release my arms. Yet his thrusts and words sent waves of pleasure crashing through my senses that I didn’t want to stop.
We laid in a tangle of limbs and bedsheets afterwards. His fingers in my hair, mine clinging to his upper arms. My breathing had returned to a normal pace, but my mind was a knot of humiliated and achey, painful and sensitive, tingling and pleasured.
“I know you’re strong.” He leant close to my ear and kissed my lobe. “I know you’re intelligent, I know your strength.” More kisses up my temple. “I know your submission is a gift, and I appreciate it. I appreciate your submission.”
His words trickled over my skin, warm and safe. No-one had said that out loud to me before.
“I appreciate your dominance.” I whispered back.
And how I did, how I did, how I do.
So sweet.
submissive Saturday
desperate for His Dominance, as much as the air she breaths
🔥🔥🔥🔥💦💦💦💦💦
sooo you a rough sex blog preaching feminism? fuckin weird
Look man. I don’t give a fuck if i’m knuckle deep in her ass hole and she’s covered in cum and tied to my bed frame, I still hold her equal to me.
Random questions: have you seen, or do you know about the tv show “sex and the city”? I would like to know how you think a dominant (like you) could “control” (for lack of a better word) someone like Samantha Jones? or how would the dynamic be? Do you think it’s even possible? why?
I’ve always had a suspicion that Samantha would be bratty as fuck and defiant in that kind of “Make me!” fashion. But after a hard slap to the face followed by a calm “Kneel” and walking over to sit in an armchair without even a backward glance to see if she’s complying, she would drop like a stone. With the thought playing in her head: “This is it. This is the thing I’ve been chasing all these years. I’ve waited my entire life for this moment.”
I have always identified with Samantha out of all of the characters on the show. I have always felt more comfortable being submissive, even when I didn’t understand what that meant. But I always thought of myself as ‘bratty’. I would tease and challenge. I didn’t even understand myself that really I was just looking for the one that would stand up to me and take control. And now that I know how that feels nothing else will do.
So yes, I can completely see Samantha in that scenario with the right man.
“Do you want to come?” he asked.
“Yes,” I begged. “Fuck me harder, Master, please, please..”
“No,” he said, and was still. My breath caught in my throat.
“No?” I whispered hesitantly.
He grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled my head back hard until he could see the desperate lust in my eyes.
“You want it?” he asked again, grinding his cock into me.
“Yes, yes, please…”
He let me go, held himself still. “Then do it, slut.” There was darkness in his voice, and desire. “You want to be fucked harder? You do it. Fuck your dripping little slut pussy on my cock until you come.”
I pushed back against him as he slid inside, slow and deep. Before I could move again, he held me still with a rough grip on my hips.
“Two rules, baby. Don’t stop until you come. And if I come first, not only will you *not* get to come, but I’m going to punish you for making me come.” He slapped my ass once, hard. “Understand?”
“Yes, Master,” I panted as I rode his cock desperately, frantically.
“That’s it, slut,” he said darkly. “Fuck that pussy that I own with my cock. Do it harder. Faster.” He spanked me again, harder, once on each cheek. “Come for me.”
Sir's submissive 