BDSM-baari
Aula - kaikille avoimet alueet => In English => Aiheen aloitti: Kayla - 16.03.2025, 20:32
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So I warmed up the sauna. It’s Sunday. A week since i took my piercings. They did say to avoid sauna for the first two weeks, but avoid doesn’t mean don’t do it.
My piercings are fine, better than expected. Tiny bit swollen, the right nipple, but that’s normal. I need this.
While I’m laying there on my bench cloth, like a normally do I look at the metallic water ladle and wonder how would that feel smacking my butt. And I try it. On my right inner thigh first, for some reason.
Ha. Fun. Every time I smack myself the ladle makes a metallic ring sound. After about seven or eight smacks on my inner thigh I rotate to the left, so that I can reach my hamstrings and butt.
This feels better. I aim for the muscle and I feel the sensitive spots on the edges and on the side of my leg. The spots hurt, so after about a ten, fifteen twenty -ish smacks I get enough.
Ok.
I lay back on my back again and close my eyes to relax. ..
No. I want more.
So I repeat. This time the sensitive spots do not hurt as much. I can put more power behind the next whack and again aim for the muscle and it feels so good! I continue until I get enough.
When I have enough I throw some water on the stones and enjoy the steam. I wonder why I haven’t thought about this before. Why did I ever think I need some one else to do this for me? ??
I go for round three. I am fucking loving life in this moment!
When I get enough I stop and shower. Life is good.
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This is escalating fast ::)
I want to feel full. So I bought a dragon dick. It’s fluorescence and glitters. Love it. Should do the trick.
It’s saunanight again. My favorite.
70 degrees, perfect temperature. Lets get right to it. The dick with a suction cup can wait on my spot, while I take the water ladle and give myself a little spanking. My butt cheeks are already seen this before and yeah, it’s nice, but lets get to the new stuff.
The dragon dick is waiting for me to sit on it. It looks very inviting, but might need a little work to get it all in. I start at the tip, feel the feel, and slowly start lowering myself to take some more of the shaft in… I feel this.
I take my time. I do yoga breathing and feel how I start sweating. Drops of sweat is running down on my face, between my boobs and I can feel them running down my back. It’s so lovely and warm, it’s easy to relax and as I’m thinking this I feel by body taking the dragon deeper. My buttocks are nearly touching the bench.
I’m really feeling this. I can feel the stretch as I’m reaching the very wide base and I’m now fully sitting down my butt on the bench, the whole dragon inside me. The head is pressing on my cervix just right as I move my weight slightly from left to right, front to back, then make a little circle with my hips. Then I just stay still and enjoy this moment.
I’m completely covered in sweat. My pussy is making all sorts of wet noises everytime I make even the smallest move. I reach for the ladle and spank my thigh and what I can reach on my butt sitting down. Obviously can’t reach for the best spot, but I have a lot of ass to smack even from this position. My very long hair sticks to the skin, can’t even imagine how read my face is right now.
Time for a breather. I get up really slow. I can feel how my pussy does not want to let go too easily, so I sit my ass down and try again. I get up and this time there is no resistance.
Cool.
Now, lets turn the dick 180 degrees, as to getting filled from behind, to see how that feels. There are different kind of bumps on this side of the dick, I want to see if it makes a difference. All sorts of liquids escape my pussy this time as I’m sitting down on the dragon and I’m getting exactly what I ordered. I feel the stretch like I did the first time around but my pussy takes it all in fast as I’m sitting down and feeling my feelings. I make a little forward riding movement, circles, shift my weight left and right… I feel some pinches in my insides and when I lean into the pain it’s like a reward.
The wooden bench makes some squeegee sounds as I enjoy riding my dragon. I give both my nipple piercings some slaps and pinches.
Enough is enough. I’m starting to overheat. It’s time to shower and recover. I am loving this so much...
Maybe even try a bigger dragon next time :love:
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A walk on a memory lane to not to distand past: Spring -25.
I needed piercings. Not sure why, but I did. So I booked a time for a Saturday.
The piercer was a petite woman. She was good. While I took my top off and hopped in the seat she asked me if I had any previous piercings. My head went blank for some reason and I said no. I’ve had belly buttons piercing for 20 years? But my head is empty and won’t remember this until couple of hours after this appointment...
She took her time drawing the right spots, where the piercings would go, with a marker on both nipples. It took a few tries but I was happy with how she got them as vertigal as possible. It’s not easy to do with large breasts like mine.
We started with the right nipple. ”Deep inhale” I never felt the needle go in, but for a full second I felt a burning sensation through my entire right boob all the way down to my chest. Had to exhale long, like I was blowing air through a straw. It only lasted a second or two though.
”Huh. That was interesting” was all I words I had to say.
”Everything okay? Feel dizzy? Should we continue?” The lady asked when she was screwing on the first piercing ball. She moved the tiny work table she needed to the other side.
”I’m fine, continue”. I knew the second one was going to hurt more, since now I know what to expect. I took a very deep inhale...
And there it was. My left boob and that side of the chest was now on fire, but it felt longer than a second or two. Took a second deep inhale when she put the jewerly through and felt it all this time. Like, well, movement around inside my nipple, or course, when she placed the piercing and screwed on the ball.
Then nothing. Why am I liking this so much, I thought to myself.
”Ok, now we can take a few minutes, take a look, you can put your top back on and if you feel like it we can continue with the eyebrow piercings”.
She handed me a mirror. I can of course see my own nipples without a mirror, I just have to lift it a little, my boobs are huge and nipples don’t exactly point up. But I took the mirror anyway.
I saw my new piercings, THEY WERE SO PRETTY! It’s stupid how happy I got.
I put my top back on and sat back down in the chair. ”Two more, please” and I think I was smiling a little bit too wide. Am I being weird?
I wanted two barbells in the corner of my left eyebrow. One would just look too lonely. The piercer was a little suprised I was so eager to continue so soon, but what can I say. She was good. I had fun.
The eyebrow piercings felt like a cats nail that dugg real deep and slow onto my skin. This didn’t even count as pain in my opinion. They bled a little, whereas nipples didn’t bleed at all.
It took longer because she had to wait for the bleeding to stop before putting in the barbell in the second one. My eye kept watering on the same side I took the piercings, a long stream of my tears fell all the way down my cheeck and on my neck. I wipe them away with a tissue and wait to be done.
Four piercings were enough at one go, even for me. Although as I'm thanking the piercer and gathering my stuff I'm already planning for my next hit.
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*WARNING: Not for the faint of hearts*
How about going for a invasive, completly useless medical procedure that provides zero useful information for current situation. Shall we?
Just for shits and giggles, because, you know.. a curious masochist.
After walking for over 20 minutes from the nearest parking spot, sitting in the waiting area for another 20 extra minutes, the nurse finally calls me in. I walk in, the doctor is already sitting in her seat infront of a computer, opposite the nurses desk. I sit down and already I can tell that this doctor, like all the others, is on autopilot. I can already tell how this is going to go.
I answer her questions and then it’s time to undress from waist down and lay on my back on the table, legs on the stirups.
”Can I touch?” They are good with asking for consent, have to admit.
”Yes”
”I’ll start. I’ll apply some pressure on your lower belly, tell me if you feel any pain or discomfort” The doctors fingers up in my pussy, her other hand is putting pressure on my belly where the ovaries and uterus are located. Everything normal.
”Next we’ll do the ultrasound examination. I’ll have to call the specialist in to give her opinion and recommendation of what she sees in the image” She lubes up the ultrasound probe with a curved shape, resembling a hockey stick and, with my consent, inserts it in my vagina. While poking around my insides like a blind man looking for his hat on my vagina walls a feeling of disappointment comes over me. Bad moment to trigger muscle memory.
I remind myself that I have come a long way in life, and even though life gives me shit, at least I’m not straight.
While they got the image on the screen, the nurse was on her phone asking the specialist to pop by, and almost the same second she enters the room and quickly closes the door. There is a curtain infront of the door for this reason. Even if one happened to peep they would only see a curtain, not a pasient with their pussy spread open.
She introduces herself and gently pats my knee to let me know her presence. I acknowlegde her presence with a ”Hi” barely seeing her from behind my F cups.
Everything looks good, but just to be on the safe side they’ll take a endometrial biopsy.
I make them aware in a very matter-of-fact tone that I don’t buy this ´cervix has no nerve endings` nonsense, and to proceed with that in mind. To their credit they listened and assured they were aware of this and it would be very careful and quick, but also optional. If I didn’t want to they would skip this step.
I tell them to continue.
Te nurse hands me a stress ball, the doctor on the autopilot inserts the speculum and sprays a numbing agent on my cervix and I kid you not, I feel that mist deep down in my throat. It’s the same thing with anything with a flavor going into my vagina, it soon reaches the back of my throat. I keep this information for myself.
While we are waiting for the agent to take affect I’m been told the biopsy is taken with a 1mm thick plastic catheter. ”You should only feel a little pinch”. I roll my eyes so loud, but I’m pretty sure only the nurse clocked it.
Time to begin. The autopilot is asking the nurse to hold something so that she can fully focus only on the cathetar. She says something to the specialist, and she also gives a helping hand in what I’m guessing is holding my meety lips from interfering. They have this whole conversation without making me feel self consious and it’s all very matter of fact. Kudos. Also can’t help but thinking there are three women between my legs as we speak. Six hands in my crotch doing their thing. A win is a win.
Sure enough, can’t feel the cathetar go through the cervix but sure as hell felt it as soon as it reached my uterus. ”I’m going to get the sample now” She said and I feel like there is a metal wire that starts scraping my insides. ”This is as bad as it gets” as soon as the nurse said that I feel the scraping dig deeper. Not loud, but very strong and dark ”SAAtana” escapes my lips. Mouth lips, not pussy lips. But I hold very still.
”Less than 10 seconds left”. ”Good looking sample”. ”Done”. The specialist gives her recommendations and leaves the room.
”Ok. All that’s left is we just need to flush out the cathetar from your uterus. This part is not painful at all.”
That part was true. I can’t feel anything when the nurse filled my uterus with a saline solution, but I feel the warm fluit on my ass cheecks as it’s dripping out of me.
The nurse hands me some tissues to wipe my own ass and I can stand up and get dressed.
As I’m sitting back down on the chair next to the doctors desk she asks if I have any questions. Well yeah. ”I would like to get to the root reason of all the symptoms, not just threat the symptoms”
”Well, excess weight can cause this” the autopilot is on default answer mode of course. Silly me. I can see that she is already mentally moving on to the next patient.
I’m tired. I take deep sigh ”Well, then of course. Thank you for reminding me. I don’t have any more questions”. I’m pretty sure she ignored the sarcasm in my voice. ”Have a good day” With a big fake smile on my face I leave the room.
As I’m walking back to my car I feel whatever was left in the uterus makes an exit. Good thing I took the pad they offered. I remind myself that my expectations were already six feet under when I desided to do this and this changes nothing. I make a mental note that not less than 70 years ago this would have been a lobotomy procedure, as a cure, for being diagnosed mentally ill. Baby steps.
To everyone who can relate to this, I’m sorry. The gaslighting is real. We deserve so much better.
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From that time I had a pretty sweet summer job:
I should be happy I got a job for the summer. I’m mopping stairs at the appartment buildnings in the centrum. It’s easy and quiet, I get to work alone and take my time at each location. It’s a nice distraction from my life, have to admit. Shit royally hit the fan this spring and I am done thinking about it. I just want to get back to my life.
But I did not factor in the heat. An Indian summer. I’m not build for this. Going up and down up to three flights of stairs per building in this heat! By the end of July I was out of juice. I had nothing left to give.
I took my break in the basement, in the common shower and changing rooms, that was also my responsibility to maintain clean and tidy. It wasn’t even ten in the morning yet but my top was already soaked in sweat and I felt too hot in my shorts. What kind of summer is this? I consider 15 degrees to be a decent weather, now it’s +28 in the shade?! No!.
There is a reason I chose this place to have a break. It’s an older building, the shower hasn’t been remodelled since forever so the shower heads still had the old fashioned massage feature. I laugh in my head. I like to think this is how I lost my virginity.
I lock the door to the changing room. I haven’t seen anyone here when I come here to clean, but it only takes 45 minutes, so I really don’t know if people come here during the day or who else has keys. But fuck it. If I get caught they can just enjoy the show.
I tie my hair up, I’m not here to wash it after all. I lose my shorts and sweat soaked top and bra and walk into the shower room. It’s a public shower so there are three shower heads to pick from. No stalls. Just one big room. I choose the one next to a bench.
I stand on the side and turn the faucet, water starts running. I extend a hand and as a though it’s very cold. I have goose skin, my nipples are hard. I adjust the temperature to ´perfect` and walk into it without getting my hair wet. I’m listening to the sounds above and try to keep a note if someone is coming this way. But it’s quiet. This is my queue.
I take the shower head into my hand and flip the switch on it’s back. A strong water current shoots out the head. Enough with the forplay. I place the head between my legs and lean to the wall with my free hand. Just as perfect as I remember. It only takes a few seconds to find the right spot, and as my breathing becomes shallow I feel the tension rising from within and bubbling up, I’m moaning out my first orgasm with my forehead and left arm finding balance on the cold tile wall.
I’m not done and I’m not moving the shower head from my crotch, but I aim it away from the clitoris. The water is massaging my labia and hole opening, which feels like I won in life. After several deep breaths I start again. This time I squat down with my back against the wall and play with the shower head a little longer before I aim it at the right spot. My legs are shaking, breathing becomes heavy and my cheeks must be burning read. But I don’t cum just yet, the second time takes a while. I reach for the faucet and turn it to almost max, now the water current is so much stronger, I hold the shower head with both hands as I cum hard against it. My legs give out from under me, my butt hits the floor and I keep my eyes closed for a while and turn off the massage feature so it’s a normal shower once again.
The water is everywhere. Even my hair is soaked. It’s worth it.. I take a few more deep breaths and get myself off the floor. I sit on the bench. I lean on wall, little on the side, and lift my right bend leg on the bench and spreat them good. I want to feel the shower on my pussy, twice cum. Strong pulses run through me when the water hits clitoris. My legs jolt involuntarily. I do yoga breaths. My face feels like it’s on fire, so I take turns between showering my face and pussy. When I feel rested I turn the massage back on and play with my nipples. Hard play with my nipples always gets me going. This time is no different. I turn the play on my pussy again, on the labia, hole, clitoris, I keep the shower head close, then a little further, close again. I fantasize that I’m riding. It does not matter what, I’m just riding. It’s my go to fantasy. I keep going until I can’t stand it anymore and place stream on the clit, and move my hip against it as I cum the fourth time.
This goes on a little while longer. Playing with my nipples between orgasms. Changing the water pressure. Even trying to ride the shower head, kind of worked.
Eventually I have to stop and let myself airdry. I didn’t bring a towel after all. There were some paper towels in the bathroom, I used some, just enought so that I could put my clothes back on. I continue work in a sweaty top and wet shorts. The shorts were black so I don’t think people will notice, but the top is lavender, you can see the sweat and now the back is wet from the dripping hair.
But it’s the heat. It just makes sense to shower to cool off in this heat. I continue walking up and down stairs as I’m mopping them as I go. The heat is still getting to me, and now my pussy lips are still bulging between in my shorts, like they didn’t have enough. ”Are you kidding me” I say out load to myself.
What to do next...
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That time I fucked a man.
It was so long ago. Winter 2002.
Hotelwork was made for me. As a chambermaid, in London, I cleaned hotelrooms six days a week for pretty much pocket money, but I didn’t care. The plan had always been to move away from home when I turn eighteen so thats what I did. Why England? Who cares? As long as it’s not home.
The hours were flexible. If I wanted to safe my days off, I could. So usually I worked two or three weeks in a row so that I could take a long weekend off. Thats when I travelled to visit my friend who lived a couple of hours from London. I had met him a year prior, in Finland. We met at a Folkhigh School. We studied different things, but lived in the same student housing.
My teenage years were difficult. So when I had the change I went looking for trouble. And trouble was easy to find. First I tried drinking, but noticed right away I couldn’t do it. Three beers and I didn’t get drunk. Just dizzy and sick. How to people do this? How is this fun or helpful in any way? It was just stupid. So I never became a drinker.
My advice to the younger me would be to try exercising. It would really take the edge off and the muscle pain the following day.. ahh, bliss!
But I don’t know it yet.
So I try fucking a man… Teenage logic, right ?!
It so happens, that a man happened to cross my path. There he sat, in the living room in my student housing. Tall, skinny, fit, red head. And British. I remember thinking, the idea of sex with this man does not make me hurl. And for some reason he was into me. He was twenty something, I didn’t ask. He was also fucking other girls that I lived with. I didn’t care. I was horny and angry. So far I was only fucking a shower head, and though I needed something else.
The couple of times we fucked I was just very disappointed. I smiled through it, but never faked anything. He was pretty and pleasant, and I got aroused when he went down on me, but then he would stop, when I was clearly enjoying it (?) and proceeded to penetrade me thinking that would get me off?
From his initiative we kept in touch via email and now we have a cute little B&B booked for a night. There is something going on between us. I just wasn’t sure what. To me, it didn’t matter. I am young, finally free to do what I wanted and I wanted to fuck. He loved me. It was getting more and more clear to me that what he wanted out of this connection was not what I wanted. This might even be our last hook up.
Clothes did not stay on long after the door closed behind us. He is sitting in the middle of the bed, I took off last of my clothes and sat in his lap, wrapping my legs around him. I can feel the yesterdays work out, it was leg and ass day. He doesn’t know that. Because we don’t talk about anything.
His touch is pleasent and familiar. We roll around and after the usual foreplay he pulls a new move. I am now on top of him, his dick hard inside me and he looks like he is just there to watch me ride. This is a little unexpected but in a good way. Heck I’m ready! I tilt my pelvis until the pressure hits the right spot and start grinding. Our anatomies match perfectly, the soreness in my muscles gives me an extra kick in already an intense ride. Not only does his dick fill me competely but it hits just the right spot inside as my clit is getting rubbed against his pubic mound. It does not take long to feel that I’m not far from cuming. Then I get to the stage where it feels like it’s going away. I grind harder and faster to catch it again and I ride until I cum, hard, my pussy tight around his dick.
I fall forward from the intensity and catch my breath. He lets me take a few breaths and then we roll around, now he is on top. My wetness is everywhere when we fuck in missionary. It feels so fucking good, and I can feel him pulsating when he cums in the condom he was wearing
After sex snuggles turns into sleep, for him. I lie awake a little longer. I want to keep fucking, but I know better than to say it out loud.
This one and done hetero bullshit is pissing me off.
Sleep comes eventually. The breakfast next morning is lovely. He walks me to the buss station and we say our goodbyes like usual. I’m happy to go back to my life in the city, to my job, and my friends.
Not so long from this moment we stop keeping in contact. The last email he sent he asked if we can just be friends, to which I replied of course. And I felt relieved. A little sad, that friendship wasn’t really on the table, it’s just how one ends a connection, even my little autistic ass knew that. But my world was open. The focus was back on only me, completely and fully.
And that’s all that matters.
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May be the last one...
I’m really tired of finding myself in this situation over and over again.
He is already asleep. The blood pumping up and down my swollen labia, the tickling electricity teasing my vulva, is reminding me that it’s that time of the month again. I’m ovulating. If I had to label myself I would say that I fall under the asexual spectrum. The idea of having sex has always been much more fun, than any time I have actually ended up having sex for real. And most times I just rather not have sex at all. Expect when I’m ovulating.
But even now, when my body is demanding sex and orgasms, I do not want to fuck him.
Fuck!
Think! It’s a small apartment so even if I went to the farthest corner he would still hear me. And I don’t want that. My fingers find they way between my labia. Yep, wet, wet, wet.
Ok. Lets try something. My legs are open in a butterfly position and without making the bed move I prop my pillow so my hand rests comfortable when I reach my pussy under the covers. Only part of me moving is my index finger as I’m finding the right spot on the side of my clitoris.
And there it is.
I’m keeping an ear on the sounds my hubby makes in his sleep, but I don’t think I have to worry about him right now.
The spot under the clit hood is happy to feel my finger making a small movement on top of it, rubbing it with very little pressure. If I push too hard then the sensation goes away and we don’t want that. I have to do this without moving a muscle if I want to finish alone. And I do.
My breathing becomes more shallow now. This is usually when my legs want to move, to spreat more, to make the access to my groin easier. But I don’t move. Instead I focus on relaxing my muscles, and just keep my finger working on the same spot. I slow it down even.
My body feels different. Like little threads of electricity moving from toes to crotch to belly, no where to go since their job is moving the muscle. Only thing to do is to enjoy this moment. My clit has swollen into a huge bulge like never before. My finger keeps sliding up and down on it, under the hood, around and repeat. I can hear my hearts heavy beating and blood pumping in my ears like it’s monsoon season inside my veins and arteries. Like I’m underwater almost.
Time is irrelevant. At some point I do wonder if this is as far as I can take it without moving. Masturbating has never been this fine tuned and still before. I usually need a rough clit stimulation and usually a doggy or riding, which ever gives a deeper penetration. But this. This is a whole another level I have never been on.
Those little electric threads now feel all fuzzy, all over my body as I keep teasing the clit, up and down, around and repeat, over and over… And all of a sudden my blood turns into a what feels like a bubbly shampagne wave as it moves from toes to the top of my head as a come harder than ever before. Up and down the wave goes through every inch of my body as my finger stays frozen on the spot until the very end.
That was new, I say to myself when I come around. I think I can sleep now. I’m thinking I should look up Autosexual, as I’m drifting away in the sweet after glow of self-gratification.
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If You are not turned on – There is no magic
To get rid of unwanted houseguests, turn a broom upside down.
It took a long time for me to learn how to be my own safe space. When I finally got the hang of it my view of the whole world changed in a way I wasn’t completely prepared for.
Showing classic signs of exhaustion and fatigue as life is kicking my ass, year after year, I had to make some kind of change to pull myself through this. Moving away would not change anything. It might have been the temporary solution for teenage me back in the day, in the end all it did was boomerang me back home anyway. It took over a decade, but eventually I had no other choise but to move back home. Nearly lost my sanity fighting against it.
Now I’m older and back in square one living in a place I don’t have many fond memories of. I feel so tired. To find peace in my life I turned inward and quickly realized that I don’t even know myself. Maybe it’s time I did.
Talking to the inner me like it’s a third person became a game I never grew tired of playing. Think of the line from from The Run Away Bride, How do you like your eggs? It took me years but I finally figured out not only do I not even like eggs, I am allergic! That solved the mystery of several symptoms I had struggled with since childhood. The simplicity is mind poggling.
Some changes like these were instant. My body (and spirit) is starting to heal which in turn made it more comfortable to live in it. I like myself again. The much slower changes took a while to pick up on. Like understanding my own cycle and how it affects every aspect of my life. I only need to orgasm when I’m ovulating. Other times my body is happy and cosy being turned on without the need to climax. It’s how I keep my energy levels up.
The way to keep the stored energy to myself is to get rid of energy suckers in my house. I learned this one from tiktok and put it to the test. It is the dead of winter, no light, no end in sight, I have given this situation all I have to give and I am done. I walk outside from the back door and turn the broom upside down. Less than a week later it took affect and the person is gone. This was something I have dealt with for years and just like that, it’s out of my life.
Of course it had to be a coincidence, right? Spring eventually comes and similar situation rises. I am not waiting around this time when I walk to the front door and turn the broom. This time it happens a lot quicker and they leave the next day.
Coincidence or not, I dare not go on further down on this path. If I do anything it happens inside my head only. Because as stupid as it sounds, it’s not even my house and it still worked. Powerful stuff. Lets let the dust settle before I dapple deeper into whatever it was I messed with just now, I tell myself.
So hear me world. After I take that nap I have planned, get the rest of my issues sorted... and remember to eat something... I’m coming for you. Roar. >:D
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It’s finally happening, I’m finally here
Invitation to the womens only kinky meet up was a exactly what I needed this summer. Trying not to seem too desperat I take many deep breaths to get my heart beat down before I faint right here at the door.
Now, what happens in a kinky meeting, stays in the kinky meeting. So I can not write about people I saw and met or details about the kinky room decor. But I can talk about my experience, how I felt and what I did, or in this case, what was done to me. I want to tell you all about it.
I lost the track of time as soon as I walked in. After a minute or two of scouting the place I got to chatting with a small group of regulars and felt right at home. I don’t know what I was expecting but it wasn’t this good.
Nothing feels better than getting compliments from women. There were now two women braiding my hair viking style. After asking for consent of course, a practise which heals my soul a little more each time.
I turn my head toward the small stage area, where the commotion is coming from. The reason for my presence is here and it has my full attention. It would be impossible to focus on anything else at this point. I’m just waiting for my turn to lift my miniskirt. Usually I solely wear pants, but for this occation I made an exception. After all there is something special about lifting a skirt instead of dropping the pants.
And here I go.
Everything has been agreed upon in advance. They know who I am and what I want and how I want it. They guide me on the stage, my back to the public and I lift my own skirt. I lean forward over a special made table, my hands holding on to the bar that I’m not allowed to let go. My weight is on my legs. My heart is already beating a drum solo. There is talk behind me but it’s like I’ve gone deaf because I can not make sense of what it being said. I’m not blindfolded, but my top has a hood and it’s been tossed over my head and tighten from the laces so that’s it’s over my eyes but not nose or mouth.
Waiting is making my breathing heavy!
Then I feel it. A nice cool whip tapping my upper thigh at the spot where it will all start. Then a whiplash. My brains lights up like a christmas tree as I prepare for more, and more I get.
Each lash makes my body feel lighter, warmer. ”Auts, that one is going to leave a mark...” and a harder whiplash lands before I even finish the thought. My butt must look like map by now. I try not to hold my breath and remember to hold on to the bar, hold my posture as I am getting my ass whipped. From left thigh to ass cheecks and lower back, up and back down to ass cheecks and right thigh, sides and repeat.
Then a short pause. I can’t see what is going on but I try to guess. There is something happening behind me, a conversation..
I feel I tapping between my legs indicating that I should spreat my legs a little more. I do as told. Then a tapping on my butt, like an X on a map showing where the next round is about to start. I take a deep breath and as I exhale, the first hit get all the air blown out of me, following a silent scream since my lungs are now empty. This one I feel to the bone! Shit, what kind of spanking tool is this!? I get a longer time in between strokes to recover. My whole body vibrates, how am i still standing? My whole backside feels raw as I get another hit. After every spank my mouth makes sounds I have no control over. The devil would fold giving this spanking, let alone taking it! I fucking love my life right now…
This is the most turned on I’ve ever been.. Fourth, fifth.. Ninth? I don’t know anymore. Every pause in between spank is exhilarating, getting to enjoy every individual burn to the core… I see stars.. I'm out of breath and sweating..
I quail when I hear something landing next to me, but it’s just the tool used on me put on the table. It signifies the ending of the session. I held my posture, but now I’m shaking. I shift my weight to see if my legs obey me. I think I’m okay, as long as I don’t make any sudden moves. My hands stay on the bar. I feel a pair of warm hands on my butt where the worse marks must be. They just stay on one spot for a while and then move to another spot, to ease the pain. Or to study, who knows?
My guide helps me to stand upright and puts a collar on me to gently lead me off the stage, through the growd with my skirt still up for every one to see what my bottom can take. My hood is still over my eyes as I’m seated somewhere more private. The seat is soft and cosy but I obviously have to lie on my side.
No, better to lie on my belly. I get a blanket on my upper body and feel hands first spreading warm lotion on my mushy behind, then i feel something cool. It takes the edge off.
My head is in Lala Land for days afterwards. Running my fingers on the bruises, trying to memorize every single one before they fade, makes me happy. For a few days I’m happy.
-
The only advice You ever need: Learn to make a love potion. And drink it yourself. Fall madly in love with yourself. :love: You're welcome.
-
Med school is hard. It consumes your whole life and some. I don’t know how I have made this far. But I’m still here, elbow deep in cadaver. Is there a better way to spend a friday evening?
”What are you smiling about” my mentor is very detail oriented, always aware of everything going on around her.
”Can’t remember what I use to do with my time before interning here, cleaning out human remains. Did I even have a life? Was I missing out then, or am I missing out now?” Explaining how I’m feeling is not something I’m good at. The fear missing out on social gatherings, bar nights, that was never my thing. Here I get to work with clear instructions without interruptions, my head fully in the zone until the work is done. And the clean-up process after every case is like a cherry on top. You could lick the cadaver table after I was done with it, it’s that clean. All this tickles my brain the right way.
”Mmm” She is kind of nodding in agreement, but not saying anything more, busy filling up last of the forms before wrapping up.
She is so easy to work with. She has high expectations and demans a lot but is also aware that this is a teaching situation, and she is not a bully. Like some teachers. Even in a lab coat and hair up in bun she has this hippy chick energy in her that I’m having hard time to pin down. Not that I’m trying too hard. She is friendly, but we are not friends outside of school and work. I like it that way. What ever little time I have to spare, I like to spend alone, to recharge and relax.
”So everything is done here. Nice work, lets continue on Monday” She says and smiles as she sets down her writing pad.
While I’m washing my hands my head turns to the next table with a cadaver still on it, covered in white cloth. With angel lust I see.
”Don’t worry about it, that one is on me. You go and safe whatever is left of your evening” she almost rushes me towards the door.
”Ok, don’t have to tell me twice.” I collect my things and wave my goodbyes and leave.
This building is a labyrinth. Endless corricors and depressing plain walls. All the fun is in the morgue, not here, where people walk and talk. I’m tired of greeting strangers just because they happen to walk by me. But at this time on a friday this place is maintained by skeleton grew only. So very quiet. I’m already at the main doors when I realize I forgat my charger in the small office we have at the morgue. Damn it! It takes almost ten minutes to walk back. Ten here, ten back, another ten out again, that’s half an hour I’ll never get back.
I curse every step I take walking back. I love the work, but now that the day is wrapped I feel my poor feet and legs, and they are begging for a shower and some pampering.
When I get to the morgue I slow down and an inkling says to open the door quietly. The door is behind a wall and in the shadow so I’m not attracting attention to myself when I ’m walking in and closing the door so it’s not making a sound. The lights are on, but this is different than when I left. There is a bright spotlight in the middle of the room, where the cadaver table is. The spotlight is only used in a very challenging situations. So far a case like that hasn’t crossed my way. The rest of the room is dark. The cadavers feet are towards me and my mentor is on top of him, riding him! Still wearing her lab coat, but nothing else. I can tell because her lab coat is resting off her shoulders, so I can see her bare neck and upper back.
What do I do? I’m frozen, I dare not make a sound. Whats happening?!
When my brains catches up with me I hide, my back to the wall and hand on my mouth, and I listen. She is having the time of her life. She is riding so hard even the sturdy table they are on is making sounds. This is not the her first time. I take a peek from behind my hiding place. Everything K18 is covered from my point of view because of her lab coat, but I can tell she liftet her right knee up from the table. Like other leg is still saddled, other leg is squatting. The view would be perfect from right infront of her. What is wrong with me? I try to snap out of it.
Now I have to pee. There is nothing stopping me from leaving. So why don’t I ? When did I lose the ability to think and process information. The room filled with a scent.. Horny flower, I tell myself. That’s what it reminds me of. Horny, pervert flowers. And do I need to pee, or am I getting horny..?
I can hear her wet pussy from here. It’s echo is amplified in this steril and cold room. My own pussy is demanding attention. Since I knew I was working indoors whole day I didn’t put on any underwear. It’s just more comfortable that way. Now my juices are streaming down on my delicious thighs. I surrender. If this is how I lose my sanity, then so be it.
My fingers find their way down my pants and into the wetness. My clit is as erect as can be. I listen to my mentor grinding and panting as she reaches an orgasm. A hard one, based on the whimpers she lets out. I take another look. She sits still, her head looking up. Her hands on her breasts, I assume. Slowly she starts pumping the poor John Doe again. On her head movement and what her hands are doing I would guess she is playing with her nipples, trying to suckle them, maybe.
I have to do this quiet, I remind myself. I lean forward, my ass leaning on the wall, left hand on my knee and right hand, completely pussy soaked, taking a tour from my hole, up and down labia and around and around clit. It doesn’t take long, my crotch is raving mad and I come, shaking but without making a sound.
That’s my cue. I take a last look at my riding beast before I go. She is going at it and close to second coming, or third, I don’t know, I missed the beginning. She leans forward into a Dead Man’s Cowgirl position, ironic, yes.. When she hangs her head down, I can see over her to the work table. And to my horrow I see her phone probbed up and a red dot indicating that it’s recording.
I hide behind my wall, fast. Shit! Shit! Shit!! Time to go. Somehow I get out of there without making a sound. I even take my shoes off so that my steps wont echo when I’m nearly running to the exit.
Walk to the buss stop is hazy, trying to make sense of what just happened. Why does it feel like my life is over? Just get your ass home, calm down, it was dark, I don’t show on camera, I tell myself. I’m on autopilot when I open the door to my apartment, no memory of the buss ride what so ever.
Shower takes forever. I want to stay here. Water running over my ears it sounds like I’m under a waterfall. What is the graziest outcome I can think of? Was she recording, or live streaming?
Quit being a wussy! I decide to play dumb and ignore what I saw, and deny deny deny, if it ever comes up. Now, I head for my drawer to get my play toys and hop back into the shower for some water games. It is friday, after all.
-
The past decade has been one long dark tunnel with no end in sigh. Ten years. Felt more like 150,000 years. And I did it stone cold sober. Not on purpose, though. I tried very hard to find my poison, but nothing took. What I would give to pass out for a night or two, to get a pause from the pain and hopelessness for few hours. But no such luck. So I endure every hour, every second, every moment... Days blend in, they are all the same. Sunday, Wednesday, Easter again? Ok.
Then I remembered indoor cycling, my very first, and so far only, love.
Life was crashing and burning around me so I could either burn with it, or get creative. And I didn’t want to burn with it anymore. So a thought popped into my head. Late teen, early twenties, what I absolutely loved was indoor cycling. The only reason I stopped was because in my mid-twenties my trauma got the best of me and for a while I gave up on everything. Maybe it's time to get back on the saddle.
Stuff is cheap these days if you know where to look. The silver lining in otherwise a doomed planet. A decent spinning bike was all I needed, and could easily afford, even delivered straight to my door.
That was several years ago. For 10 to 15 minutes every day I would take a break from the shitshow that was my life and I would just pedal. To this day it is the only thing that has worked on fatigue, apathy, grief, pent up anger, despair.. in other words it has kept me sane and alive while I went through the worst.
There it is waiting for me in the garage for me to hop on it. I can’t help but smile when I see my bike. I turn the radio on to have someting on the background, popfm. Not too loud, just perfect for my ears. My sneakers find their familiar place on the pedlas and I tighten the strap keeping my feet in place. I sit my fat crotch taco down on the narrow seat, already happy for whats to come.
Timer is set to first 8 minutes. Feet are already pedaling and I feel the gear resistance is set to heavy. Exactly where I left it. I loosen up the resistance a little for the first minute or so, then crank it up and I’m ready. I stand up, adjust the gear little more and hold my hands on the handles. I find a pace I can keep, focus on my breathing and finding the muscles that are working. The muscles on my butt and legs are doing their favorite thing, working a familiar routine effortlessly.
Four minutes, thirty second left, I check the timer. Sit down for a minute, then repeat. I take a sip of water, then get up again. Sweat is already running down my face, I don’t bother wiping it off, this is what I’m here for. I’m already panting like a sled dog but I have good lungs, so I keep going until the timer goes off.
Already soaking wet from my own sweat, I sit down, slow down and turn a lighter gear on while I hydrade and catch my breath, never stopping completely. That was the warm up. And I’m warmed up.
Timer is set to 10 minutes, second round.
This time I stay seated. I turn the gear knop to the right, to get more resistance. I slow down automatically. Hard, heavy and slow is the point. My glutes are taking over the work load. During this work out the seat is really making friends with my whole crack and I feel the grind. Every minute I up the gear. My ass is practically twerking on the seat as the intensity is rising and I wonder if I can make it the whole ten minutes.
Timer says 5 minutes, 40 seconds left. Still? I slow down, stay on this gear and straigthen my back as I’m twerking away. I’m slapping my thighs and butt, to cheer myself on. I can do this. Sweat is running down my back, there is no dry spot left on my top. Drops of sweat are dripping down my chin pooling on the floor.
Less than three minutes left. Ok, time to wrap this up. I want to feel this tomorrow. Gear up, my personal max work load. I slow down, but I’m cycling until I feel the burn from glutes to lungs, wondering which will give in first. Finally the timer peeps and I have to say not a second too soon.
My insides feel like a laava lamp, warm thick liquid flowing up and down with no care in the world.
I get off the bike slowly, to see if my legs carry me after all that work. The seat looks moist from my crotch sweat. And propably from other juices, because I notice my shorts are soaked trought. My pussy feels nice and mushy. It enjoyed the ride just as much as I did. I put my hand on the seat to feel the heat form it. It’s very warm. Amazing what my body can do.
I’ll milk this feeling for as long as I can but eventually I have to go back to my life. Happy I have a place to return to again tomorrow I take off my shoes, turn off the radio and leave the garage. In my mind I’m already making plans and picture how I want my life to look like in the near future. I use to not be able to do that. I use to not see a way out. Right now I’m happy I didn’t give up on myself. I keep going. For me.
-
This looks like my room. But it’s all wrong. All the colors are gone, the room is musty and full of cobwebs. For what I can see anyway. I can not move.
What woke me up?
Now that I think of it, why is it so dark? It’s midsummer, the sun does not even set. There should be daylight.
My body weighs a ton. My hands rest on top of my chest, so I can see them without moving my head. I look at my fingers and try to move them, any of them. No luck. But I hear something. What is that? I give up on trying to move and focus on the sounds. Is that whispering… Where is it coming from.
Then I see it. Something standing by the door. It’s tall. Wearing a black cloak with a hood over it’s face and what look like a very fancy looking walking stick in it’s hand. But not to lean on for support, more like an accessory. It doesn’t look like it needs anything to lean on when walking.
The proportions are all wrong. The room seems small, but the door looks like it’s very far away. Yet it took the dark figure only what looks like two steps to reach the side of my bed. The whispering seems to come from closer now too.
Both its hands on the walking stick, right hand on top the left, I can see them clearly now. Long bony fingers, with no meat left on them. Just a thin, pale skin facuum packed around phalanges.
I’m thinking I should propably be feeling scared right now. I’m not. This doesn’t feel malicious or evil. There is nothing for me to do either, I can’t move. So I do what I can. I watch. And Wait.
The hooded figure moves on top me, sitting on my chest, pinning my hands between me and it. The weight on my chest caught me by suprise. I finally locate the whispering. It’s coming from inside the cloak. It’s very clear now, like a group of people speaking in tongues. Some of the voices seem to be coming from deeper and some so close it’s like they are next to my ear.
My eyes go from belly of the cloak up to under the hood. There is a skull, with no eyes, just empty sockets. Like the hands, there is no flesh, just pale skin on top of the skull, nose and chin. Teeth completely visible and no tongue. No emotion or feeling. Just emptiness.
Then I feel a bony hand reach my throat and squeeze on the sides of my wind pipe, making it difficult to breath. I didn’t have time to panic until I already felt the grip to loosen enough for me to take a breath. This mountain of dark figure has total control of this situationship. It’s free to move as it will, while I just have to lay here and take it. It moves the hand from my throat on to my mouth and nose. The hand feels cold and clammy as it holds my face in place, as if being paralized wasn’t enough. The air I breath now has to go through his fingers.
My pulse is starting to rise. It’s not that I’m scared but this is getting odd. What is the end game here?
The figure slips one of it’s fingers in to my mouth. I breath through my nose and fight the gag reflex. I feel a cold index finger on moving on my tongue and reach the palate and I can’t help but make gaging sounds right when the finger is done it’s journey and removed from my mouth.
The huge hand still on my face, with one finger wet from my saliva, the hooded skull lowers it’s head down next to my cheek and holds it there. I’m now breathing straight into it’s ear as the cheek bone is digging into my chubby cheeck. It smells like nothing. The whispering is loud now, almost chanting. What kind of witchery is this? After a minute or so it lifts it’s head up and it’s towering so high I wonder if it’s going to hit it’s head in the ceiling.
As the hand is still holding my face I feel something happening in my pyjama pants. I obviously can’t see anything, but I figure the oddity is not done exploring me just yet. The bony fingers are now picking up speed and are already in between my labia moving up and down as to chart it’s territory. I didn’t even realize how wet I am. Right then the pressure around my hole tells me I’m getting first one, then maybe two or three fingers inside so deep that their bony tips are tickling my cervix at the right spot. I would jerk my hips against it, if only I could move.
Heavy breathing makes the hand on my face not feel so cold anymore. I’m not thinking clearly but since I can still move my tongue I start licking the leathery fingers like it’s my dayjob. All while the finger fucking make me crazy with wanting more. I get my wish as I feel a pinch on my clit. My eyes suddenly wide open and tongue stops as I’m now a little freaked out to find out what happens next.
The fingers have not left my vagina when I feel more pressure, this time around my bum hole and I guess one has found it’s way into my ass, pinkie finger maybe. This one also dives deep. Whole crack must be so wet it’s on the sheets. I must radiate insane amount of heat by now. Is that it’s thumb or the bones of what would be the palm of the hand dancing on my clit this time, teasing and playing like it’s the last berry in the universe.
Orgasms makes my pussy convulse as I’m waking up, my pelvic muscles wanting to spasms around a hand that is no longer there. To my disappointment the waking up messes up my ability to enjoy in the after glow of what felt like a proper finger fucking. When I eventually open my eyes I move the pillow off my chest and notice my pyjama bottoms on the floor. I was sure I wore them when I went to bed.
I am not a morning person. I would rather stay home and think about what I just got to experience. But I have to go to work. So I put a pin in it and hope I still remember this dream when I have the time to get into it. :love:
-
I just got so bored working at callcenters, jesus..
”The situations I find myself in.. ” I think to myself as I’m sitting in a spotlight, waiting for the cameraman, or in this case, camerawoman finish setting up the lighs.
This is a nice a flat. Too modern for my taste, but very pretty with high ceiling and minimalistic decoration. Little too cold maybe. But then again I’m a gottage girlie. The view, though! The view is to die for. I wonder if the owners mind us shooting porn in their kitchen.
”The usual routine?”
I look up.
Thats Tina. We have worked together before. She’s good at her job and fun to work with. So much more professional than I could ever be. Most of the time I’m just trying to keep up with her.
”Unless there is something new in porn that I’m not aware of?” I smile back.
”The usual it’ll be then. Hey, just incase your roommate forgat to mention it, we’ll come over around eight tonight.”
I nod. ” She did mention it. Welkom.”
”Ok, listen up” the camera grew is here. It’s the same drill every time. Don’t look straight into the camera, also don’t block the view. Every position is acceptable but they need at least three with a perfect angle from the cameras point of view. If you want the extra from butt stuff, insert at least one finger up to the first knuckle, plus rimming. And the extra goes to the receiver, not the giver.
Both Tina and I nod. We start filming.
It’s a familiar dance. We begin the way adult entertainment tends to begin, with flirting and shy touching, giggling and smilling, a.k.a bad acting. Eventually moving to boob and nipple play, light hair pull, kissing, licking. All the while making sure the camera has the best seat in the house. I’m never really facing Tina completly. I’m on her side, or behind her, below her. It’s like having a threesome with the camera being the guest of honor.
Eventually I get some analingus and one of Tinas fingers in my ass, before she eats me out and I cum against her mouth. It’s a work orgasm. A real orgasm, but very, very shallow. After many close ups we scissor, 69 and I eat her out on the counter.
I get to have sex with beautiful women for a living, but it’s still work. We are on work mode, very aware of the the timetable, the best positions to eat ass and all of us, the grew included, would like to get to go home at a reasonable hour. The faster we get to wrap up, the better. That means that the klimax will be very shallow. For me anyway. Some girls fake. I can not act to safe my life so faking is not an option for me. So far my body is working with me and responds to stimulation as expected.
My left pinky finger finds it’s way to Tinas butt, middle and index finger into her vagina and I lick her from ass all the way to clit, teasing and playing with it until she’s right on the egde. I pull my face away form her pussy to give the camera the cum shot, as she squirts her juices all over me. Taking some more close ups and we were done.
Today was a good day. It’s nice to hear that the grew is happy for the work Tina and I did.
The grew is actually just two people, the camerawoman and her assistant for some extra hands. We pack up and help them load some of the stuff back into the van. They are our ride back to the centrum.
”So that was it for this week, right, everyone?” The camerawoman asks to make sure we had the schedule right. We had nothing more booked with them this week. We make plans to call next week to talk about more work for both of us.
”I’ll see you tonight” Tina waves goodbye as she’s walking away towards market street.
”Bye” I wave back. I turn towards the grew. ”Thank you, it was really nice working with you guys”
and I’m off.
Three a’clock in the afternoon, I still have time to get takeout and take a really long bath before guests start arriving.
To be continued...
-
I’m not stuck, what do i want
I’m not stuck, what do I want
This bath is helping me relax, should do this more often.. where was I again.. Oh yeah..
I’m not stuck, what do I want
My mantra is not doing what it’s suppose to. At what age should life be figured out?
”Knock, knock”
My bubble is bursted. ”What?” my voice sounds soft, I guess the bath is working.
”Can I come in?” That sounds like Hanne.
”It’s open”. Living with women has made locks unnecessary. Why bother bolting the door, when everyone has basic manners and common sense.
”They are all here, are you coming down?” Hanne asks as she walks in.
”Nope. I’m good here” wau my voice is really pleasent.
”What do you mean, it’s your birthday?
”Yes. And I said I just want a bath. Now, I’m in the bath, everything is perfect. I’m good right here”
learning how to gentleparent these extroverts has been the best skill I’ve ever acquired. ” You guys go ahead, do your thing. Have fun!”
”You sure? Ok. There is cake in the fridge when you are ready. We are going start with the shots, I can bring you some here if you want?”
”No, thank you.”
”Ok. Nice tits by the way, really like the pearcings” and she is out the door.
Yeah, I like them too and smile to myself. I take the small towell I have set aside, get it soaking wet it, squeeze away the excess water and cover my eyes with it.
The bathwater is clear and still hot. Just the way I like it. No bathsalts, bubbles or candles. Can’t have candles. Tried it twice. The first time burned a junk of my hair as I was ready to sit down in my bath. Took a second for me to realize my hair was on fire . I put it out fast, and after a little trim you couldn’t even tell I had an.. accident. The second time the front if my bathrope caught fire. I don’t even know how. So, no more candles.
I hear the celebration coming from the kitchen as my roommates and friends are doing shots. They are not really gathering for my birthday, that’s just an excuse to drink on a wednesday. Not that they need an excuse. Hell, we are all adults, we can do what ever the fuck we want.
”Go, gang, go” I cheer quietly from the tub.
For the second time in my life I have routine, stability, social safety net. This time I’m going to hold on to it. That’s why I’m working on my inner mantra. Rewiring my brain away from the familiar, which to me is a total shit storm and complete chaos, to peace and quiet. I’m not bored, this is what healthy everyday life is suppose to feel like. And instead of pouring all my energy into fixing chaos, there is finally a space for me to figure out the real me.
But what do I want?
The first time I had a change in life to finally focus on me, I could not even take it. It was so stupid. After working at my new job for a full year it was time to take my fully paid summer vacation. Any normal person would have been.. I don’t know, just happy?! But someone like me. It crushed me. I didn’t know what to do with all that time, in my nice appartment, with all that money and time. Thinking back I think I had a small nervous breakdown. It wasn’t pretty. Soon after the holidays I got back to work okay, but it was too late. I quit pretty soon after that and really fucked up my life. Went back to what I knew.
This time I’m wiser and know better. I got lucky and found a circle of friends and a new job I like. It doesn’t stop me from feeling restless every once in a while though.
Shooting the scene earlier today with Tina did get my juices flowing, now that I think of it. I’m not pining after her, but I think I’m getting in the mood for some fingering. Maybe I should check if the gang would like to visit the local girl bar. It is my birthday after all.
The water has cooled off quite a lot as I get up. The skin on my fingertips is all pruney.
To be continued…
-
Osa 3
The best thing about girl bars is I can finally dress the way I really want to and no one cares. So I’m wearing my orange hooded dress with my running shoes. Would have gone braless but better safe that for the next outing. You can see my matching set of black ”love” bra and underwear from Temu through the thin orange fabric. These underwear are for pure comfort only, so they don’t support my huge rack. Let the puppies run free, I say. My hair is not completely dry yet either. My hair makes these lovely corkscrew curls when towel dry.
”Hi, nice to see you here, where have you been?” I literally just walked in to the bar and right away I’m blindsighted. Cute lady with short dark hair comes over and talks to me like we are old friends. Am I suppose to remember her from somewhere?
”I’m sorry, have we met?” I say as my brain is working to place her. I haven’t lived here that long, I’ve met so many new people. So embarrassing not to recognize her. She’s tall too. But then again everyone is tall compared to me.
”Well, kind of. You met my girlfriend at the bonfire last month? At the midsummer festival. Come over, she’s here. Would love to catch up”
And the puzzle comes together ”Oh yeah, Emma and Julia! I remember you! Lead the way!”
This was exciting. We talked for hours with Julia at the festival. She was so much fun, but when I left it didn’t even occur to me to maybe change contact information. Why would it? I even briefly met Emma, but she was surrounded by her friends and otherwice occupied.
Following Emma to the booth I see Julia already quite boozed up. She smiles at Emma when she sees us approaching. Then her eyes find me. ”Nemi!”
Emma gestures me to sit down next to Julia. ”You guys catch up. What are you drinking, Nemi?”
”Any kind of mocktail, thanks.”
She winks at me and heads to the bar. I turn to Julia and it’s like we were old friends picking up where we left off. She is a marine biologist. Something I would have studied had I had the change. She didn’t mind me asking a million questions, then some how we ended up talking about China, which lead to flying lessons..
”Your friends at the bar say it’s your birthday” Emma is back with the drinks. She sets the mocktail infront of me. ”Happy birthday!” I scooch closer to Julia to make room for Emma who is dead set on sandwiching me in between them.
”Thank you” I grin as I’m taking a sip of my drink. It’s delicious. This is the best day of my life. I’m surprised at how comfortable these two make me feel.
”Want to play kissogram?” Emma asks with a kittenish look on her face.
Did I hear right? I look at her with rised eyebrows. My head turns to look at Julia. She’s smiling and shrugs her shoulders. ”It’s okay to say no, if you are not into it.”
Heck. This is what I came here for.
I turn back to Emma and slowly lean in. First kiss is just a peck on the lips. It brakes the ice immediately and she puts her arm around my shoulder. I put my hand on her thigh and we are kissing like two young sweethearts reuniting after time apart. Lime, sugar and salt. ”Is that margarita I taste?” Usually I avoid alcohol in all situations.
”Yes. Does it bother you?” Emma asks. I shake my head and kiss her again.
At some point I feel fingers running down my back. I pull away from Emma and turn towards Julia. ”Hi” is all I have time to say until we too are tongue wrestling. She tastes like beer. I honestly thought I loathed beer but this doesn’t bother me slithest, quite the opposite. I can not get enough.
She holds her palm on the side of my head and I’m resting my hands on her leg she put over my leg. She’s so warm. My hands are starting to want to wander, but I’m still aware that this is a public place and I don’t do that.
The evening continues with these two passing me between them like a cigarette, me sipping my mocktail and vibing to the live music and circeling back to kissing. Eventually I straddled Emma. Her hands were on my butt. Or were those Julias hands. So many hands everywhere. Julia is sitting right next to us, running her fingers on Emmas arm and my leg.
At some point I pause for some air and take a look around. The bar is absolutely full. People are starting to be really drunk. I’m don’t think I have ever been this late at a bar before. The girls laugh when I tell them that. I don’t think this is their first time.
”There is room at my place if you guys want to spend the night” That came out of my mouth.
To be continued…
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Osa 4
Waking up between two women is the best thing this planet has to offer.
It’s still dark when I woke up, so not yet morning. I had to pee, of course. That’s what woke me up. Sandwiched between these two divine beings, who would give up their spot. But there is no choise. I find my way out of the pile of arms and legs of my sleeping overnight guests and head to the bathroom.
The whole upstairs is mine. I tiptoe through the living room and turn on the moon lamp on the bathroom shelf. The light is soft, blue and dim, just enough for me to find the toilet without my eyes being scorch from my head. Exactly how I like it.
Looks like my body is still super turned on from tonights activity, since it takes a while to start peeing. My pussy seems to be mimicking a puffer fish, without the spikes obviously, and all that blood pumping through keeps the attention elsewhere. It takes some concertration but eventually the brains get the message, it’s time to pee now. I yawn as I wait for my bladder to empty.
All that happened last night/tonight was kissing. Lots of kissing. By the time we got back home to my place it was already something a.m. and since none of us are no longer in our twenties, we crashed and I have been deep asleep since my head hit the pillow. What a lovely feeling. For some one with a chronic insomnia, that rarely happens. How I envy those who can take sleep for grandet.
My comfy love underwear is perfect to sleep in. But I take off the hoodie skirt I fell asleep in and toss it on the bathroom floor. My mouth tastes stale. Before going back I rinse my mouth with mouthwash since I can’t be bothered to brush my teeth.
My spot is still there when I get back to bed. My insides are jumping in joy as I’m balancing my way back to be the ham between two pieces of toast. I’m spooning Julia as Emma is spooning me with her hand wondering up and down my side until finding a pleasing spot around my waist and giving me a squeeze before falling back asleep. Her head rests against my shoulder blades and I feel her breathing on my skin.
…
Barely awake but I already know I want more. I don’t want to open my eyes, I just open my legs instead, enough for the eager hand to find it’s from the side of my underwear to the pool of my pussy juices. Right away two fingers dip as deep as they reach to tickle my insides, which makes me automatically spread my legs more and tilt my pelvis against her hand.
Emma is playing with my right boob with her mouth. It had already escaped the boob prison at some point while I was sleeping, and slipped out from it’s cup. Not that there was much keeping it in. The piercing, although softly, between her teeth sends electric down my body. My hand finds the back of her head and I push it down against my boob. She can eat it all.
Emmas hand is adventuring from hole to clit and back. I’m sure she knows how willing my clit is and how easily I would reach an orgasm right about now, but she apparently has decited to keep teasing me instead. Her mouth finds my left boob and plays with the nibble through the thing fabric, until I pull the bra aside and give her full access. Right then I feel pressure on my g-spot. I want to rock my body against her but she has me pretty well pinned down.
She pulls her hand off and sits up, her knees under her. Now I open my eyes, why did it stop?
”Turn around, on your knees” Emma commands and I obey, with a smile.
My butt up in the air, I feel the familiar play and pressure all over my pussy that is already leaking juices down my thighs. She fills my hole as much as she can. The knuckles don’t quite fit in, not for the lack of trying though! I hear the clear squelch as she is massaging the insides on my pussy, to prepare for another try. I smell myself in the air, I’ll never get tired of the way my pussy smells like. It helps me to relax and I’m having the best time, enjoying the feeling of being stuffed!
Something makes me move my body and I lean my behind against Emmas hand and this time I can feel the knuckles as they get past the tight entrance and fill me completely! I don’t dare move now, just moan and hold still. This is new.
”You okay?” I hear Emma ask.
I manage to almost yell ”Yes” and again start moving against her hand to signal that she can continue. It was easier than forming more words.
The sounds, the smell and the fist in my vagina is almost too much. Now her other hand has found the clitoris that is desperate for some attention, and as she’s playing circles around and over it, I’m cuming hard my face in the pillow so I’m not waking up my neighbors, yet alone my roommates.
My muscles are holding on to Emmas fist, not wanting to let go. I yelp, then laugh a little, as she slowly pulls it out me. Those knuckels are causing havoc coming and going. I lay my ass back down on the bed to catch my breath.
It’s only now I realize that Julia is not on the bed. I lift my head and find her on my lazy boy next to the bed. Naked, her legs in a butterfly pose, looking flushed. Looks like she enjoyed herself while watching her girlfriend fuck me. This worked out nicely.
To maybe be continued… :love: