Playing makes me horny. Getting tied up, getting beat, getting slapped and kicked and thrown around and hit with whips and called names and pissed on and humiliated and pinched and hurt–it all makes me want to get fucked. Preferably several times.
Having sex makes me horny. The more sex I have, the more I want.
Subdrop makes me horny. So does being drunk. And being hung over, for that matter.
Damn, no wonder I’ve been a big ole ball of wet, wanton need all weekend.
And that’s why having two guys is so very, very good for me.
I was saying to Ad, after nearly a month of W’s absence and various impediments to a good, hard fucking by Ad, that I really had no thoughts of sex by month’s end. (Which is my argument against orgasm denial…maybe it works for some woman, but for me? Nah. I’d just stop caring anymore. The less sex I have, the less I want.) Anyway. Within one weekend of W being back, I am back to my usual horny slutty self. Beatings and exhibitionism and getting tied up and clothespin zippers and both guys fucking me silly may have had something to do with it…
But again, that’s the beauty of having two guys. You know, they can do that “tag, you’re it” thing. One after the other after playing at Flog, then one handing me off to the other the next morning, and again later that afternoon. And then the other one, still later that night…
Course that begs the question of why I am going to bed unfucked tonight. What, did I wear the boys out? Do I need to get me another guy?!?
Seriously, we had a weekend of incredible play. Hot, hard, sexy, fun. It sucks that afterplay almost always has to include dropping so hard, but if that is the price to do what I do, to feel what I feel, to experience all that I do, then I’ll pay it. Willingly; gladly. And of course, Ad knows that sweet, tender sex (along with a warm salt bath and snuggles) usually helps alleviate the sub-droppy ache.
Or conversely, another good beating. Hair of the dog, right?
I was reading an article or post on someone’s blog (sorry, wish I could link to it, but I’ve forgotten whose it was on) where they were talking about a Cosmo or other women’s magazine article on foreplay, and how women never get enough of it, and how to do it (soft tender caresses, long, deep kisses, touches, love words, etc etc.) Now don’t get me wrong, I love to feel my men’s hands on me, I love to be kissed, but honestly? Getting smacked, getting grabbed and thrown around, feeling rope biting into my wrists or an arm across my throat or getting taken down hard to the floor or feeling the kiss or thud or sting of a whip or a cane or a flogger is, truly, my foreplay. It doesn’t always make me hot in the moment–sometimes I am hurting and not feeling like sex right that second, but I can guarantee a couple of things: even if I am hurting, if they start to touch me right, I’m there, hot and wet, all the hurt forgot. And after it’s all over, almost every time, as I curl into them and begin to wake up, I am lit up like a Christmas tree, wanting nothing more than to have them push me back, spread my legs and stick something inside of me. Preferably a cock, but a nice solid toy or fingers will do just as well.
Beat me and then fuck me.
Foreplay and afterplay.