I think I used up all my creativity today..

He said, and sat down on the sofa with a smile.


I looked at his grey hair, his deep blue eyes, saw his smile, and felt the way my nipples hardened by the thought of waking up his creativity again.. Of course I knew, he was talking about work, but work wasn't exactly what was on my mind...


A tired man, who needs to be woken up..


I walked into the kitchen and opened the bottle of red wine, one of the bottles always in hand. A little too warm to his taste, but not my fault, that I like red wine with taste and temperature like mulled wine..? And what is a girl going to do when mulled wine is a drink for the winter period, and not for the month of June..


I looked down at myself, black skirt, nicely shaped and flattering around my slightly wide hips. Soft, see through black blouse, cut to a shape, showing the edges of my bra.. Just the blouse to get a man.. My breasts, the nipples feeling pointy and sensitive against the fabric of the bra, just by the thought of seduction.. The cunt, tickling.. Knickers, that I removed straight away in the bathroom, knickers wet with moisture..


I put the red wine at the table, 2 glasses, and did what I love to do, positioned myself with one leg on each side of his lap, knowing, that the cunt would rest on his leg. Feeling horny, my head full of fantasies, and without the will to resist rubbing my cunt just a little bit along the length of his jeans clad leg..


I felt his hands walking up my back, one hand taking a grip of my hair, his voice..


"You are wet like a slut.. I have fantasies of whipping that slut.."

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Philosophying effeminacy..

Well, first of all, I hope the "head liner" is correct, sometimes I use Google translate to find just the right word, and even though Google may be God, it is not always right..

In the early days of blogging I promised myself, well, hmm, early days, when I was very very young, 6 months ago.. I promised myself, that I would only "kiss-and-tell" about myself, and not about Him. It was my choice to blog, not his..

Sometimes it is really hard to find that limit of telling, which is why I haven't blogged a lot recently.

We have our challenges these days. We promised ourselves and each other, also in the early days, and felt absolutely certain, that our fabulous and great sex life would never suffer like others sometimes do, because of vanilla challenges. But we, I, have had to come to terms with, that even with our 40+ years experiences of love and life, we have exactly the same challenges as everybody else, sexually, too. The lust is reduced when challenges rise, and this can go on and on, like a vicious circle.. If we don't do something about it..

One of us needs closeness, the other needs acknowledgement.

One of us needs caresses, the other needs sex.

One of us needs conversation, the other needs understanding, that lack of conversation isn't lack of understanding..

We both need each other..

And please do not believe, that you now know exactly who is the woman and who is the man in this list of masculine and feminine needs, because it is not as simple as that. All the needs are universal to us, and perhaps is it so, that all we need is for one of us to take initiative.. Take the jump..

And, saying this, I will spank myself, literarily of course, in my ass, because of my habit of persevering over and over again in the same topics, into the extreme, a woman never knows when to shut up and stop the philosophies.. All I really want is a good spanking and a bit of physical sex.. Because with good sex, whether it being kinky or vanilla, everything else follows.. Closeness, acknowledgement, conversation, understanding..

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Quiet awakening..

It is turning spring time again.. OK, admitted, the calendar says it is summer, but well, this isn't a blog about the weather, I think.. Danes love to talk about the weather, by the way, just thinking of a sexy way to describe the sunshine today.. Suggestion, me being the weather girl on the news channel, telling you, that today will be very sunny, and then with innocence in face showing you a nice place in the woods with a picnic blanket on the ground, telling you that this is the perfect weather and place for a good fuck.. Wouldn't that make weather forecasts more interesting, perhaps..

Awakening, this morning..

I felt his hand on my throat, tightly, and I moaned..

I felt his hand pinch and twist my nipple, hard, and I whimpered..

I felt his hand, and my cunt got soaking wet, again.. The smallest of signs, a mere suggestion of what could happen shows the power he has over me, over my lust.. So little he needs to do, a hand, a pain beginning, a thought of more, and I get so horny, I can feel the moisture almost dripping, in my cunt..

He has taken control over my body, again..

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Vanilla Life..

My every day vanilla life hits me strongly these days. So this is truly a submissive blog, the blog itself being made to wait. I hope it is a good girl, while I am away..




Anyway, I had 15 minutes of fame being described in a banish tabloid magazine, like this:




Here, the sense of closeness and intimacy doesn't disappear in pompous metaphors and poetic candy floss. Here the body is a pounding machine of pure lust, who needs a good spank!




Now I have been hit by vanilla life again.. It would have been nice to ride on (so to speak), on the wave of fame, with one kinky and of course eloquent blog entry after another. Instead I was hit by a good scent of vanilla, with its all its fights and battles. Without hanging out my dirty laundry (well, why not do that, I think it probably smells better than my fabric softener by Proctor and Gamble..), the last 2 or 3 weeks have been no fun. I have been fighting, and I am still fighting, fighting for my dearest, and this takes up all my time and all my energy..




So admitted, I have had sex perhaps once in a week or a fortnight, and I have hardly missed it.. I told a bit of my misery to a good friend, about my lack of energy, and lack of the sexual kind of energy, too, and was told not not to complain and be a good girl, I still got more than him!




So, perspective, hmm.. Take your pill and don't complain..




Anyway, why do I all of a sudden use a phrase like "have had sex"? Why can't I all of a sudden write fuck, or another naughtier word? Now I write "having had sex", like a nice and good girl, using words my granny would have used without a blush at all.. OK, admitted, I never ever think my granny used the word sex, and I am sure she hasn't had sex since 1969? But that is another topic for another day..




I have even less energy for creativity, so I have sent many thoughts on to my blog, but not much writing.. Inspiration is for the moment like the size of a cock who has been swimming in an iced ocean.. But oh, how I would love a good spank in my ass for that remark..




In stead I will awaken one of the fantasies I had, before I got non-sexual.. Alas, well, who am I kidding with that remark, me being a pounding machine of pure lust.. :-D

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I wonder..

who is in charge, in this picture..? And how fast could the power be turned around..? If she wants it..? If she gets the choice..? Or if he gets the choice..

If it was me.. He would allow me to touch him, to give him pleasure, and let me get the tingling sensation in my hand of his hard and fully erect cock, through the soft material of his trousers.. And afterwards, he would take a firm grip in the back of my neck, in my hair, and I would be in no doubt at all..

To hit it right and hit it to the right..

What does a slut do, when the cane, the whip, the tawse, doesn't hit it right?

A very accurate or not quite accurate? problem, a couple of days ago.. Someone would surely say "You are a submissive slut, take on your punishment, and stop whining!!" Or "You should be grateful that your Sir gives you that kind of attention, that he uses his valuable time, to spank You..!" "Nonsense with you..!

But it hurt, it hurt in a bad way, taking all my concentration away, the emotional involvement in the session disappeared, the experience gone, and it made my tears run down my cheeks..

Are you at all supposed to write about this, no one wants to read about it, they want horniness, juices running, and pounding flesh..

I suppose, I wouldn't write about it, Mr. and I didn't sort it out afterwards. But we did, we talked, we told, we explained, and, the next time I will think more about us playing, because we want to, because it makes us forget everything else, but the lust and the horniness. And if a small lash hits it wrong, it only means, that we will continue the game another time, or continue straight away.. And, I will take it as a good slut..

Like the morning after..

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Finally tied up again.. Tied up with my hands tightly fastened together with the rope. The rope pulled up and around the hooks nicely placed over the French doors in the living room. Tied up and naked, with my back to him, positioned with my legs spread wide.. With the ball-gag in my mouth, soft to the touch of my fingers, but hard, when it is placed in my mouth..




The flogger, suddenly hitting very precisely, then hard on my thigh, leaving a bundle of red marks.. And the new found (from his drapes) wooden stick, not bendable.. Leaving stripes on one buttuck, and dark plum intensely coloured bruises on the other..

And a happy slut, with the pleasure of naughty memories during the next two days, every time I chose to sit on a chair. And I make that choice often..




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Knickers..

I slept at his place.. I am so bad at packing my bags reasonably, I always bring too much stuff with me. But well, why shouldn't I need 3 pairs of shoes and 4 different dresses, when staying for only one night? I must say, though, that I always remember clean knickers, even though some might say, that I forgot them this day on purpose. I didn't!!!! But, as Mr. said drily,

 

 

"You will just have to  walk around all day without knickers.."

 

 

In thin, tight, white trousers? Yes..

 

 

My day was quite interesting, first I went for a walk round the park with a male friend. All the time I was aware of my naked cunt against the seam of my trousers and the tickles caused by every step I took, not to mention the moisture..

 

 

Later on, the fitting room in the clothes boutique. Ok, the dress actually looked its best without me wearing knickers, but I still got serious heart palpitations when the sales person too quickly shouted through the curtains:

 

 

"Are you wearing the dress? Are you ready?"

 

 

Oh, I was very, very ready..

 

 

.

 

 

Evening, after a long week of being busy from 5.38 am until 0.30 am (or was it 0.32?). You can guess, what happened, after eating sushi and drinking champagne, and after a quick little stroll trough the park.. Me, laying on the sofa, deep deep asleep..

 

 

When I finally woke up at 1 am., I asked, why he hadn't woken me up to get his way with me.. He answered, that he had indeed tried, but I was just laying there, saying girlish happy murmuring sounds, so he couldn't bring it over his heart to wake me up.. But what if you are a slut and just dream about being pulled by the hair into bed (or the sofa, I am not choosy), and used..

 

 

I finally managed to persuade? him to use his tawse, just a bit, before we went to sleep, just such a shame, it doesn't leave any marks. But my cunt didn't care about marks..

 

 

Saturday morning.. I used all the female skills of power, I had, and set my alarm clock for a whole hour before having to get up.. I was well rested, and who wouldn't be after sleeping away all of Friday evening.. Lucky again (who said luck, when it comes to a horny woman with soft hands), I was allowed to feel his hands, regular beats, firm, hard on my buttocks, and he made me whimper for more, for the cane.. Gucci is at my place (my loving name for what is just the best..), but he has a wooden stick that is normally used to turn down his wooden blinds..

 

 

"Slut, you will just have to wait until tonight. I have plans, I want to make use of my rope, but you have to walk around with no knickers on until then.."

 

 

He knew very well, that I was going out for lunch with the girls..

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