Innocence for Days

When I first established this blog, Daddy and I had intended to write it together. That hasn't happened (obviously!), partly because he's demurely insistent that he isn't a good writer, (though he absolutely is), and partly, I think, because he's come to think of this place as my own, a place where he can see some of what I think about this facet of our life.

Occasionally he'll ask me to write about a specific topic. Sometimes this is a simple request and sometimes it's more of an order. He made one such request some time ago -- a week? two? -- and I've been sitting on it ever since. I think I'm ready to address it now, though.

SO! Anal sex! Here we go.

Anal is something I think I've touched (heh) upon here but I'll review quickly. In the past, I've fucked nearly every biomale I've ever been with in the ass -- usually with my fingers or tongue, but occasionally with an appropriate toy or two. Now, it's not like I went into sex with guys thinking, "Gosh, I'm just waiting for the right moment to stick it in!" or anything, but as far as I'm concerned, there's not a lot I won't at least try if my partner wants it and gets pleasure from it. So by the time Daddy and I got together, I'd had quite a bit of experience as the penetrative partner in anal sex.

Receiving is a totally different story, though. I have always found it nearly intolerably painful. Even a single finger -- even a single SMALL finger -- caused me intense pain, no matter how much lube we threw at the problem. Not only that, but as far as I was concerned, I have a pussy and I'd far rather use that, thanks. But I gamely tried it time and time again, especially since I find the idea of having another orifice available for penetration quite hot.

Now, Daddy's past in terms of anal sex was somewhat similar in that he's fucked bioboys before -- even with a strapon, which is something I've not done -- but not as often, I think, as I have. Receptively he was even less experienced than me, however. His previous long-time partner found the idea disgusting and saw fit to mention that fact frequently and loudly. That contributed to his shame about That Area, to the point where he completely buried his real feelings on the matter. It wasn't until we'd become more comfortable with one another that he was able to admit that it's something he's always been interested in.

So with time I was able to discover that he enjoyed it when I took his clit in my mouth and gently penetrated him with a fingertip. I've worked up to an entire finger once or twice but this is something he can't take for long. We'll get there.

With that discovery came the discovery that he really, really wanted to fuck my ass. I wasn't sure how I felt about this. I was certainly willing to try, with the caveat that it wasn't likely to work, but hey, why not? So we did.

At first it hurt. He was gentle but I found anything other than simple massage to be painful, as I always had. I took to laying him on his back, laying my head on his ribcage and jerking him off or fucking him with one hand while he fingered my ass with the other. It gets him off beautifully and one night....it felt good. It felt REALLY good. It felt so good that I had what I can only assume was an orgasm -- it felt different from any kind of orgasm I've yet had but it felt GREAT and left me shaking so I don't know what else to call it.

I don't know if that night was a fluke, but we took full advantage of it. He flipped me onto my back and slipped a finger back into my ass, handing me a vibrator with the other. I turned it on as he penetrated my cunt with two fingers and roughly located my g-spot (which I love, love, love, oh god I love it so much) and placed it against my clit.

20 moments of bliss followed, my body so strung out with desire and arousal so acute it was nearly painful, and I came harder than I ever have before...so hard, in fact, that I ejaculated. That's a major first to me, and one we've been unable to recreate since (though we haven't done that exact thing since...perhaps that's a theory I'll need to test!) but as Daddy put it, one moment his hand in my cunt was slick and the next it was soaked. I'll report back on that for sure.

We haven't been able to repeat that experience (yet) but I hope to do it again because it was wonderful. Since then, it hasn't been as good and in fact, the other night it was downright painful. It's a difficult feeling to describe, especially since I get off on Daddy hurting me...just...not there. It's not the kind of pain I like at all. That's something we'll need to work on.

So we're making a lot of progress on the anal front. Having him inside me like that was actually quite moving for me, as that is the last of my "traditional" virginity. I often wish that he was the only person I was ever with at all, (though of course that would have its own challenges, I'm sure), so it makes me happy that he has that particular part of my sexual experience all to himself.

There are so many kinds of virginity, though, and in all ways that matter, he has mine. I say it all the time in these posts, but only because it's true: he's made everything new for me. I am the luckiest girl in the world.

More Reasons to Love T

{NOTE: This post details a somewhat more intense sexual practice than I have discussed before. I mention it in case any of my readers are easily disturbed by discussion of pain and pleasure -- I assume that isn't an issue for most but I'd rather put it out there just in case.}



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I mentioned in my last post that I adore T, and I do, for more reasons than Daddy's increased libido. For another thing, his facial hair has begun to grow and fill in, and if he doesn't shave about once every other day, he ends up with a bristly chin (and even a bit above his upper lip, too!). This is exciting because he only bumped his dosage higher and shortened his time between shots about two months ago, so these new changes are very exciting to us both...

...in more ways than one. Before Daddy and I got together, I hadn't explored my interest in heavier pain play at all. As an idea, pain in a sexual context turned me on (immeasurably), but sometimes the things we think are sexy are just bad ideas when put into practice. Which is why a rich fantasy life is a good thing to cultivate. :)

But as his beard began to grow in, I began to get ideas. A few weeks ago, while he was gripping both my nipples and rolling them between his fingers, I gasped, "Harder!" He smirked and complied, but not enough for my satisfaction. So again, "Harder!" and again his smirk, until he had both in a vice grip and I was writhing with pain...and on the edge of orgasm. The next morning he looked me over, certain that I should be bruised and over-sensitive -- and I was sensitive, but not bruised, and not at all in pain. Instead I loved him even more fiercely for daring to hurt me in ways I wanted so desperately but had been too afraid to request before. I really thought he would draw the line at my nipples, much less my cunt or clit. Happily, I have been proven wrong.

(And before I continue, let me make it very, very clear: this is what I want. The pleasure I get from all this eclipses anything that came before, and I could not and would not choose to go back, ever. I do have a safeword in place, and he always listens if I need to back off or stop entirely. I have never felt safer, more loved, cherished, or protected than I do when I am in his arms. This is what I need, and I am extraordinarily lucky, because it's what he needs, too.)

Once we discovered this mutual love of nipple torture, I often found myself laying on my side with him behind me, my arms over my head, his arms wrapped around me and crossed in front of me, one nipple in each hand, and his slick cunt pressed to my hipbone or against my ass, his breath hot in my ear as he came and came and came. I writhed with him, (his pleasure only fans the flame of my desire), and sometimes brought out my favourite vibrator. But still I wanted more.

One night, he had one nipple in his mouth, teeth gently scraping the tip, while he twisted the other. He let the one slip from his mouth to say something to me, and accidentally scraped it with his beard scruff. And I gasped: it felt incredible! "You like that, pet?" he asked -- he never misses a single reaction from me -- and when I nodded frantically, he lowered his chin and began to scrape my nipple back and forth. Eventually I came hard -- HARD -- and hid my face.

"What's wrong, baby?" He pulled me close and gently turned my face to his.

"I'm sorry, I just thought you might not want to do that. I've wanted you to but didn't know how to ask or if that was too heavy for you..." I trailed off. Everyone is different, and not every person that is into BDSM is into it to the same degree. Some tops are happy to whip one's back bloody but wouldn't dream of dealing pain to one's more delicate bits. I don't know why I didn't just ask him how he felt about it...well, I guess I do. I just wasn't sure I could take it, and I didn't want to open a door that I'd then have to close later.

At any rate, the door was open and we both loved it. Scruffing, as we called it, became a regular part of our lovemaking. One night, as I was stuck at the edge of orgasm, he growled in my ear, "Come, or I swear I'll scruff your cunt bloody." I think I almost pulled a neck muscle riding that orgasm out.

So there it was, out there as a threat but not in practice at all. I have mentioned before that I am reluctant to receive oral sex -- I have a bad history with it, but also I feel that I take too long (I know, there's no such thing as taking too long, and this is not at ALL coming from Daddy. This is all my own issue that we are both working on together.) and most of the time it doesn't get me off because I can't allow myself to relax into it.

But Daddy loves it, and I love to make him happy, (and I love that he makes me feel so wanted, so beautiful, so special to him), so normally he'll tell me that he just wants my taste for a while, and normally I say I'd love to be close to him like that but as a forewarning I don't feel like I'll be able to come, and we both agree and he goes down on me for a while, and it feels wonderful, and then we continue on with something else that often does make me come, usually internally rather than from my clit.

One evening he was on his stomach between my legs, his tongue lightly stroking my clit, while I held my outer lips open for him. He gripped my inner lips, pulled them taut, and sucked my clit into his mouth. This always makes me squirm, so he presses against me more firmly, and that's when I felt his chin digging into the entrance of my cunt.

It was prickly and sharp and it hurt. And I loved it, and I swear I got twice as wet in mere seconds. I pressed my legs further apart and bucked my hips against him, increasing the bite of his whiskers into my sensitive flesh. He looked up at me and smirked, then slowly began to shake his head. Oh my god, my eyes rolled back in my head and I had to beg him to stop and fuck me right that second. I came and came.

This brings us to last night. We'd worked until very very late, but when we got to bed I was too keyed up to sleep even though it was a positively ungodly hour. So I smoked up and was able to relax enough to lay down and turn off the light. He leaned up and over me and began to kiss me, and soon we were making out furiously and both of us were naked. I am much, much more responsive when my inhibitions are lifted, and there's been a lot of life stress on us both lately, so this relaxation has been a long time coming.

He bit at my nipples, pulling and twisting them with his fingers, and I panted -- it felt so good I thought I might be able to come just from that (which would be a first for me), but soon he pushed me up the bed and spread my legs, pressing my lips apart and attacking my clit with his tongue.

It felt heavenly. I went from aroused to desperately aroused in seconds, though I just kept wanting him harder. I couldn't speak, could only moan my encouragement, and as he pressed against me I again felt his chin against my entrance and his whiskers biting into me. I wantonly thrust against this pain/pleasure, wishing desperately that he'd make good on his threat from before. As his tongue grew tired, he responded to my hip movements and began to scruff my lips and vulva. I was in ecstasy and tried to press my clit against the roughness, unable to ask for what I so desperately wanted.

And then he did it. His chin rubbed against my aching clit, the hard bristles scraping my skin painfully and yet all I felt was pleasure. I snapped my hips against him, dragging my cunt up his chin from clit to the very bottom of the opening of my cunt. I realized I was probably scraping the skin enough to make it hurt the next day, but I didn't care. I was on the edge of an orgasm of a magnitude I had never before achieved, and he felt it, too. He grabbed my hips, roughly spread my lips, and scruffed my clit, over and over, hard.

I came after a few seconds, my eyes rolled back in my head, and I think I screamed. (Not in pain, I assure you.) And this morning I am sore, yes, (but not bloody, not even last night) and no, I don't plan on doing it again today (I don't intend myself serious or long-lasting irritation), but I will definitely, definitely be asking for it again. It was blindingly intense, wonderful, and the hottest thing I've done in a long time -- and that's saying a lot, since I think my Daddy is the hottest thing this side of the sun itself.

Have I said it lately? I am a lucky, lucky grrl.

On being proven very, very wrong

An addendum to my last post on the unendurable pleasure of the bare clitoral orgasm: evidently I can take it if I'm high. I find that all sex for me is better while high, actually. My mind is fogged up enough to not interfere with my body's experience of pleasure, and I come so much more easily, naturally, and enjoyably. The pleasure is undeniable and, for the most part, not at all frightening. (This can be my biggest block on the road to orgasm: when it gets really, really intense, I get really, really frightened.)

Last night Daddy repeated the procedure of pushing my hood back and directly stimulating my clit, but this time I was able to get past the light-blinding feeling and make it to the most intense clitoral orgasm I have ever had. It went on for what felt like ten or fifteen minutes (I have no idea if this is accurate) and it was just...bliss. I'm so glad he decided to try again because it was definitely worthwhile.

On the fisting front, neither of us have yet been successful. In fact, we've both found that when we've been trying, each of us have been simply too tight at the time to manage more than 3 fingers. (I might have taken 4 for a moment or two, but it was too much.) But we intend to keep trying. And trying, and trying, and trying...

Light-blinded

I may have mentioned earlier that I find it very difficult to get into a sexy frame of mind when I am under stress of any kind. Actually, this has gotten easier as I've grown more accustomed to stress and my body's reaction to it, but when I'm under a LOT of stress, I still find myself in a place where my mind has overpowered my body and I can't, under any circumstances, let go and feel anything sexual.

This doesn't mean I can't have sex. I take great pleasure in loving my partner even if I am not up to have that physical gesture reciprocated. And there are times, usually after some great pressure has lifted, that my libido normalizes and my body just wants to make up for all the orgasms it missed.

It's hard to be selfish, but Daddy makes it awfully easy sometimes.

I've never before had a partner that craved *giving* oral sex the way that he does, and since he is my first female-bodied partner, I've never been in a situation before where I felt I could fully trust my cunt to the person manipulating it. But with him, I do -- he knows what he's doing, after all.

Yesterday we did really nothing other than fuck. The entire day. But while he was going down on me, something suddenly felt...different. Wildly different. So different that I wasn't entirely certain that I liked it and I writhed away from him a few times.

"WHAT are you doing?" I gasped, the second or third time he made my hips move in a way I'd never felt them move before.

"Shhh. Just feel it," he whispered. Looking down, I realized that he had one finger on my clit -- it wasn't his tongue after all. "Relax, baby."

But the feeling was so intense...overwhelmingly so. My eyes welled up the way that they do if you try to look directly at the sun -- in fact, that's how my clit felt, too. "No! I can't, it's too much, what are you DOING?"

His finger moved relentlessly. "Just playing with your pearl, darlin'. Tell me how it feels."

I didn't understand. "It's making my toes numb and it feels totally different than when *I* do it," I gasped, "and I don't know if I even like it." He spread my outer lips and seemed to take a new grip on my clit -- the sensation tingled in my toes and I squirmed restlessly.

"Well, it's just different when it's someone else's hand, baby, that's all -"

"No!" I cut in, pulling entirely away from his stimulation. "It's TOTALLY different. It's a lot."

"A lot of what?" His eyes locked on mine and he gently stroked my clit, not in the way that had unsettled me, but in a soothing, gentle manner.

"It's just..." I groped for words and unexpectedly, tears welled up in my eyes, "...it's a lot. I don't know how to explain it but I think it's too much for me right now."

His eyes glimmered in the half-light of our bedroom as he considered for a moment. "It's like that for me, sometimes, too. You know when you make me come really hard and I burst into tears afterward?" I nodded. "That's when I have this same kind of intense sensation that you're talking about. It starts at my toes and works its way up until it hits my clit, and then I come really, really hard. I think if you can make it past the initial weirdness, you'll find the same thing."

I caught my breath in a sob and shook my head. "Maybe but it doesn't feel good right now. It doesn't feel at all like it does when I do it." My feet twitched involuntarily as he brushed my clit again. "Just tell me, please, what's going on down there?"

"I've got your hood pulled back and I'm rubbing your clit, baby," he answered, demonstrating. "Try to relax and go with it, ok?"

But it was still too much for me, and we stopped. I felt emotionally overwhelmed, unable to hold on through the strange, intense, eyes-to-the-sun feeling just then. So I cried a little and asked him to please be inside me, because I wanted to be as close to him as possible and I knew that would feel good. It always does, with him.

So he slid two fingers inside me and fucked me until I swear my eyes crossed. And afterward I asked him to show me what he had done that made me feel so strange, and he did. Did you know, until that moment, I had never actually seen my clit before? And I had no idea about hoods and all that. I mean, it makes *sense* now -- I mean, I've seen tons of hood piercings and such, but I never stopped to think about it.

I think I still have a lot to learn about sex.

For shame, blogger!

I've been remiss lately, I know. But I am back with a short observation on Things That Give Me a Happy: hand-held showerheads.

When I was a little girl I used to masturbate with allllll kinds of things, including a motorized nail-file (without the sandpapery part!), a mechanical toothbrush (again, without the abrasive part), and dolls of many sizes, shapes, and colors. All of this occurred within the safety of my bedroom, mostly at night, but the first-ever orgasm I had outside of my safe haven was in the shower with a hand-held showerhead.

It started innocently enough; I was just showering, you know, like you do, and rinsing off, also like you do, when one of the streams of water...caught my attention. That's all it took and voila, I had discovered the joys of masturbating in the shower. Sadly, I have never in my life OWNED my own hand-held showerhead.

Until today.

Daddy and I spent yesterday trying to install the showerhead only to be totally thwarted by the flow restrictor that turned the flow of water into a dribble of water. BUT. Now we have a bigger, better, (more expensive) showerhead, and I am actually praying that it works. Because I really, really miss shower orgasms. Here's hoping!

Natural

"You're a natural, baby girl," he panted to me, cradling my face in both hands as I raised myself from tonguing him for the first time. He told me later that he wondered for a moment if I had lied and if he wasn't my first. I am still not used to it; not used to thinking of myself as good at this. Somehow I expected that I would have much to learn, that I would need diagrams and books and gentle tutoring.

Is it strange that I was both elated and let down when I was told that I don't? Of course it is a pleasurable surprise to find that you are good at something that you're trying for the very first time, but for me I find that learning, allowing oneself to be taught, can be an act of submission. Admitting that you don't know it all and opening yourself to new knowledge -- I find it erotic. No more so than when he slipped his fingers inside me for the first time and showed me my G-spot.

"Orgasming is a learned behavior for many women," he explained to me as I writhed beneath him, more than a little afraid of the intense sensation he was coaxing from deep inside me, "and you haven't learned yet." I half-sobbed that I thought I was going to pee and recoiled from his touch as much as I could. "You aren't." He thrust his fingers into me firmly and curled them, stimulating me in ways I had never felt before. "You're just going to come for me really hard."

But I couldn't tell; I had never orgasmed like that before. Until I was with him, orgasms occurred only when I was alone, or *maybe* if my partner played with my nipples and gave me a long time to work through the many mental blocks I've set for myself against that simple, explosive pleasure. Coming was a chore, (it can be still), and it meant working my clit alone. I had never had an internal orgasm, as he calls them -- in fact, I never realized that there was more than one way to come.

When it happened for real, for the first time, I cried. It took us over a month and he literally walked me through it, and it was one of the most beautiful times of my life so far. Never before have I had a lover who knew and understood my body so intimately; my body had in fact begun to orgasm from internal stimulation before I recognized what it was, but he could tell by the feeling of my muscles working inside. "Tell me," I'd beg him, and he would. "Now...you're coming, baby," and I learned, slowly, to tell the difference between regular muscular contraction and orgasm. It felt so very different from what I know as a clitoral orgasm.

In the beginning, I was afraid. I thought it would hurt and I found the almost-going-to-pee feeling much too intense and off-putting. So we got me high first, enough so that I could relax and just feel what was going on. Normally I can't turn my mind off enough to enjoy sex, so this was the first time in my life that I really let go of everything that normally holds me back.

The night that I first honestly came, I was high and he had been fucking me carefully and tenderly, talking to me and reassuring me, for nearly an hour. Up until this point, I had slowly become more comfortable with the pre-orgasmic feelings that came from his fingers curling and uncurling inside me. I trusted that I wasn't going to pee on him, but I wasn't able to go from "ok...that feels pretty good..." to actual orgasm. It freaked me out too much and too often I would wrench away from him, distraught by the emotions that came with pushing me so close to the kind of edge I'd never before felt.

But that night, he didn't let me flinch away. "I'm going to fall," I cried to him, gripping him tightly around the neck and breaking into wild tears. "I'm right here and I'm going to catch you, little grrl, so fall. Let go, let go, let go, it's safe, you're safe, just let go..." he murmured into my ear, urging me closer and closer, until I did fall. And he was there to catch me, there to wipe my tears, there to bring me back to myself.

I am such a lucky grrl, to have a Daddy like him.