Sex blogging requires a certain frisson, a need to scratch an itch that doesn't reveal itself in the day to day normalcy. At least that is how it started for us. As we have moved towards solving that inclination with experimentation, the urge to write has lessened. I doubt if we will quit blogging right yet, but when you are doing rather than fantasizing, some spark to write does disappear. That, mixed with the ridiculous and braying demands of work, makes us bad bloggers. We should post at least twice a week by my reckoning, and I think we are down to twice a month. But we aren't stopping. I swear to Buddha.
In the last few weeks we have found a new female friend who we feel very comfortable with. VSK has posted how her little green monster was enraged by this discovery and then calmed by the warm and soft delights of this hot little minx and she'll write more about that in the future no doubt. The things that make playing with someone who you are compatible with vs playing with someone who, by no fault of their own, requires some self-editing is eye-opening. Early in our experimentations we would bend over backwards and sometimes it left us feeling odd or frustrated. Now every encounter is only within our comfort zone and that is because we are experienced enough to demand our own needs be fairly met. Our demands aren't too heavy either. A clear line of communication is really all we hope for.
The picture is from last night. I requested kitten to "dress up." Now this ain't the greatest pic but its alright. She sat in the chair and I pulled her head down to my cock. I asked that she push her lips together, essentially using her mouth as a quim. Then I turned her around and pounded away her cries as always a mix of pleasure and encouragement. A lot of our play has gotten more direct and I might say that she's been "broken in" nicely these days. I used to think that the sexism of a comment such as that precluded true eroticism, but when you trust somebody completely, the academic categories lose some of their protective sheen. After nearly killing myself jackhammering away from behind on the chair, I fell back on the bed, and demanded she service me again with her mouth. And her enthusiasm brought me to a unique hardness, which I then finished her off with. We literally passed out afterwards.
Someone said about Obama's victory that for them, this would be the first time they felt represented rather than governed. After years of feeling governed, I can say that we feel free enough now to trust in our representations. Its just hard to avoid feeling governed by the blog. Happy HNT!