Graphic

So ya’ll likely read most of the same blogs i do, right? i mean, my blogroll is right over there to the right …

You’ll remember the flap that anon caused over at sins a few days ago, about people over 40 and sex, and about dominance and abuse and submission and wimpy women/men…blah blah blah. i’m not gonna rehash it all here, it’s been said by all the commentors there and at a similar ‘attack’ if you will, over at Mick’s blog.

It’s pretty obvious that anon is young. She is contentious and rude and snarky, which is upsetting enough…but her ongoing sentiment that sex is only for the young?

First it stuck in my craw, pissed me off. And then i got the humor of it. Oh, my gawd, if only she knew…and if she lives long enough, someday she might. I’m putting it out there now:

I am 52. Fifty-two.

And i’m having more sex (and better, more satisfying sex) now than at any other period in my life. Ever.

Ever.

That includes, btw, the thrill of masturbating to orgasm, when Master allows me the privilege. Something which i never did when i was young coz i was a “good” girl…and it was “bad” to touch yourself.

I hope today’s generation begins to love their bodies, and understand that we are inherently sexual beings. Our purpose as higher mammals isn’t only to procreate…but to recreate! We are one of the few mammals that play games. Create them, play them.  Recreational sex falls into that category, for me anyway. It’s good. It’s fun! It’s enjoyable…and i believe we’re hardwired for it.

So the title of this post is “graphic”.  Because all of this beginning stuff right here? It is …the prequel, i guess,  to what, by some accounts, might be oversharing. OH, i’ve given you glimpses. Tastes and tidbits,  a bit here a bit there. But today i want to go deeper, try to show you, anon, since i know you read here, too, that sex between consenting adults over 50  is hot. Steaming, smoking, writhing with heat. Just so you don’t think life should end at 29 (btw…have you ever seen Logan’s Run? just a thought…)

*~*~*

He takes me from the bathroom, where i have dressed sexy for His pleasure and mine. I strut across the room in the 6 inch red heels, the skirt of my black lace outfit flirting with my ass, under His watchful gaze. I reach the far wall, and turn, then cross back at His silent gesture.

He hands me the velcro cuffs…the pair that slide up my legs, tighten at my thigh, and the matching pair for my wrists. He clips each wrist to each thigh. He slips the blindfold over my eyes. Here is where the trust enters fully. Trust, as well as  love, are always present when we are together, but… Blindfold marks the start of our “scene time.” I trust that He will hurt me…i want that, after all, as does He. But i also trust that He will not harm me, my body or my spirit.

When we are together, He is always the Dom, and i am always the sub. But during  blindfold time, there is a different…tenor to my submission. Less playful girlfriendy…more fully submissive. He takes me by my hair and wrist, and pulls me across the room, and bends me over his lap.

The spanking happens here, and the pinching. And the assessing. He feels how wet i am. He tells me that i have wet his pantleg with my juices. My ass is burning, the crack ouchy with bruises from his pinching, and i’m upsided downed on his lap…smiling. I feel the throbbing between my thighs, and know how badly i need.

I want.

I want desperately  to be fucked. To cum. To explode for Him. He pulls me up by my hair, and i feel my juices run down my thighs. Hair pulling, this level of control and dominance turns me on so much.

I want.

Already the endorphins have made me high, and i’m disoriented from being ass-end up for so long. He snaps the heavy metal clamps on my nipples, the chain cold against my belly as it sways. He’s moving me across the room, placing me precisely.  He shoves me down, hand firmly between my shoulder blades. Face down on the bed, one leg straddling each corner, knees just above the floor. My pussy is pressed into the corner point of the mattress, my hands uselessly strapped to my splayed legs. My clamped nipples are pressed hard into the mattress and i feel the shivery connection between them and my aching, needy cunt. I am bound now to His desire, His wants.

I have no fucking idea what is coming next. He is silent, yet i feel Him, the heat of Him between my legs. His hand is between my cheeks, spreading me.

And i know.

I know what is happening.

There is no preamble. OH, He uses lube…for His pleasure, ease of entry…i feel the cold drizzle of it as it trails between my buttmoons. So cold i shiver…or is it the nervous anticipation of what is coming?  There is no prep. No butt plug to slowly loosen my asshole. The head of His cock slicks through the lube trail. And presses. Steadily. Without undue roughness, but considerable intent.

His way.

His cock presses inside and a gasp slips from me…a gasp, and a moan. Pain, yes, but i’ve been so turned on for so long, and no fingerfucking, no vibe, no relief since the blindfold went on.

I crave Him. Even this. As He slides up inside my bowels, i am moaning with the burning pain of it…that never ends, really, and then as always when i’m being butt-fucked…the first orgasm SLAMS into me.

There is no warning.

There is no slow and steady build up, that trembling tumble over the edge. No twinkling of my clit, of my inner muscles to warn me. Just abrupt, intense convulsions of my cunt around the nothing there.

He feels it, buried in my ass. Moans, and grunts happily.

Tells me i’m such a dirty slut, cumming with his cock stuffed up my buttpipe. And it happens again. I cum. I …more than cum. I explode. I’m squirting all over the bed, feeling the covers soaking underneath me.

There is no memory i have of “how many” orgasms i had then. He says he fucked my ass for the better part of an hour. I remember little after the fourth or fifth orgasm. It’s a blur of pain, of pleasure, of wants met. The remembered Heat of Him between my legs, His hands pressing down on my back, almost like  backwards cpr,  while he fucked me that way.

Later, long later, He slapped my ass and made me crawl up to the middle of the bed. I thought He was done..  His erection spent, played out in the cavern of my ass.

Silly slut.

 He had a new toy. One i didn’t see  for hours…but i felt it.

A dual insertion vibrator.

Over and over again, He continued fucking into my sore and tired asshole. . . and my needy pussy. The hummmmm of the vibe is a low counterpoint to my mewling crying. No sotto voiced slut, my voice rose and fell all over the vocal register as i came.

And came again.

For hours He played His games with my body. Finally i was near unconscious, so far out in subspace that only the sweet beloved timbre of His voice pulled me back.

Over the course of nine hours, i had more orgasms than you could imagine, anon. When it was time to go, i was sore, throbbing, sated, relaxed, tired, and gawd. . .

So fucking happy.

I wish that for you, anon, that kind of intense, fulfilling happiness. If you’ve got it already, good on you.

But so do i.

So do lots of us.

So lets share the happy. Its fine that you find your bliss in your vanilla bed. But it’s equally fine that i find mine, graphically, in a darker place.