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Marching Orders

16 Sep

My wife Bayani likes me to order her around, and the more explicit and detailed my instructions, the better. Sometimes I just tell her things like ‘Suck it’ or ‘Bend over’, sometimes I give her more detailed instructions like ‘Go take your panties off then come in here and kneel down and beg me to let you suck it.’ She likes giving me oral, and really likes begging me to let her use her mouth to please me.

Learning to let myself do this was not easy. I had been taught to treat a woman with respect, and to order her to kneel down and suck your cock, well, that hardly seems respectful, does it? But she wants me to do that, she likes it, she gets off on it. So I respect her by giving her what she wants, by trusting that she will let me know when I go to far. Oddly enough, I do this from a place of love, I do this to increase the intimacy in our relationship, it is something I don’t share with many people.

Recently she has started asking permission to come. I think she got the idea from this BDSM erotica she read, where the Dom forbade his sub from orgasming for 24 hours as a sort of punishment. She likes the idea of my being that much in control. So I’ve started telling her to come sometimes, and at other times I tell her she can’t come till after I do. It has now gotten to the point where I can tell her to come, and as long as there is some sort of stimulation on her clit or in her pussy, she will. I have not yet tried to tell her to come when she is standing at the mirror putting on makeup, but some day I will. That will be pretty damn hot, if I can ever make her come just by using my voice.

She likes me to call her dirty names, ‘Slut’ and ‘Cocksucker’. ‘Whore’ is off limits, she does not like that one. She is fine being a slut, but not a whore. Ah, good, a limit. I can show her respect by not crossing that line, by respecting her limits.

Occasionally I will leave her some very detailed instructions, usually when I will be gone for the evening, instructions on how I want her dressed when I come home, how I want to be greeted at the door. I let her stew for a few hours thinking about it, getting all worked up. I tease her with the anticipation.

Last night I left her with such a set of instructions. The email I sent her can be found at the end of this post. I gave her some very detailed instructions on what she could wear, and those I will keep to myself. I told her what time to expect me, and I am a very punctual person, so she knew I would walk in the door at exactly the time I told her I would.

She had friends over while I was gone, to smoke hookah and read tarot. She had to kick them out to get ready for me. The kids were not co-operating, refusing to quiet down and go to sleep, so she sent a text requesting a 15 minute delay. I acknowledged the changed time table. I sent another text as I was leaving, letting her know she had exactly five minutes. I walked in the door to find her in full compliance and frustrated as all hell. My text arrived as I was getting naked. She didn’t know I had given her the extra 15 minutes, and had been in position trying to fight of orgasms for almost 20 minutes the poor thing.

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Product Review: Lil Rasscals II

26 Mar

As the wife and I have been playing around with back-door sex, we have discovered several new means of stimulation.  Toys.  I’ve purchased a couple of different ones online(mostly because I prefer to read customer reviews– not out of a desire to avoid the back rooms at adult novelty stores, no, I love those!), and the one we have enjoyed the most is the Lil Rasscals II.

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The First Time, Again- Erotica

10 Mar

Oh God yes! She had been waiting for this for so long, wanting it so badly, without knowing how to ask.

Her husband Alan was such a prude, preferring to screw in the dark and heaven forbid she ask him to tie her up or anything really kinky. She never would have guessed that he would harbor such delicious fantasies. Continue reading

You want me to put it WHERE?

26 Jan

Damn, we’ve coma a long way. We used to be vanilla. Very, very vanilla. Oh, I’m not complaining, sex back then was good. It was damn good. It was fucking good–and I don’t mean that in the non-ironic literal sense, I mean that in the extreme adjective sense. We were Vanilla Bean, Double-Cream, Slow Churned Dreyer’s Ice-Cream kind of vanilla.

We weren’t into bondage, hair pulling, rough sex or talking dirty, and polyamory and threesomes were still new and exciting. And we were definitely not into anal sex.

And then we met Deirdre. Continue reading