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.

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.

Floating

Yesterday, after I had leaped into the pool without testing the water first (I am very much a leaper-inner -- I don't care if it's cold, I know I'll get used to it. I wish I were more like that in life...), after he sat on the edge trying to acclimate to the cold water, after I tried to relax and let the water hold me, after I failed, after I cried over a hurt that my heart has sustained that has nothing to do with my Daddy at all, a hurt that is weighing me down in every sense of the word (and stealing my words so that blogging is difficult)...

...he got into the chilly water, wrapped me in his arms, laid his cheek against mine, and walked with me back and forth around the pool. My legs were tight around his waist, my arms tight around his neck, and he stroked my hair while I cried. It was so comforting, more comforting than any words he could have whispered to me. I felt enveloped by his love, protected, cradled. He makes everything feel better, always.