Mick has a daughter visiting from DC, and has to take her to the airport at an ungodly hour in the morning. So our Senior Correspondent Donna has graciously stepped into the void for this morning's entry. Thanks, Donna.
Back when we lived in the land of alligators and hurricanes, each spring we would take a weekend away from the rest of the world and camp on the spoil islands, created by the sand dredged from digging channels to take missiles to the Cape in the 1960s. My lover man and I were just babes then and the small islands are now covered in scrub oaks, palms and lots and lots of sand. The only way to get to the islands is by boat, and we paddled to our island on sit-upon kayaks with our survival gear, tent, food and my crutches strapped on.
We set up our tent so the flap would open to the Indian River and the two of us would sit for hours watching the dolphins leap and play and the shrimp boats raise and lower their nets far off on the horizon. To lie beside Bill watching the sunrise was one of the sexiest times of my life. We were part of nature and cavorted and frolicked, sometimes as Dom and sub and sometimes as simple lovers.
Today I was out on the deck when a wind came up. We live out in the woods and the maples are just now offering their helicopter seeds to the world. As the wind picked up, the seeds swirled around me and the leaves on the white pines and red maples shimmied as the wind whistled through their branches. It was nature in its glory and for me that brings to mind sexy times. Obviously I was not the only one feeling it. As I stood there leaning against the railing, strong arms wrapped around me and fingers pinched my nipples, then slid down to hold me in a tight hug. I leaned back against Bill’s chest and felt the wind caress us both. After a few moments, Bill leaned in and whispered in my ear, “Bedroom, now!” I took care of a few necessary things and when I entered our bedroom, there was Bill, lying on the bed, legs spread wide, waiting for a warm mouth to suck his perfect cock. The sun was shining, the curtains billowed in the breeze, and the sound of birds singing and squirrels chattering came in the open windows. I hurriedly stripped down and joined my husband.
Bill said, “Name your one thing, now.” I chose butt plug, and he just nodded. That is my part of the love-making input when Bill is in full Dom mode. I am permitted to name one thing I want to do or wear or use, and Bill considers it while I get started licking and sucking and swirling my tongue around him. I always take time to play with his whole body. I like to rub my breasts against his beard, run the sides of my face over his belly, against those soft hairs that lead south to my target. I sometimes raise a hickey or two just above his groin on each side and I dampen the entire area with my lips and tongue. By then all systems are go for both of us and it is up to my lips, tongue and the judicious use of my teeth to bring pleasure while his hands, tightly tangled in my hair, lead the rhythm and depth of the experience.
At least fifty percent of the time I am granted some form of the request I have made in naming my one thing. Bill can be quite creative in fulfilling my request. Today, after he had come, he rolled me onto my back, reached into the bedside table for the plug, lube and Hitachi. He applied the lube to my rosette as well as the plug and began pressing and releasing the vibrator against my labia and clitoris. He swirled the Hitachi as he pushed the butt plug in and out, loosening that double ring of muscles bit by bit.
All of a sudden he slammed the butt plug in until it was firmly seated, began applying more pressure on the Hitachi and reached with his free hand to grab the strop. He used it on my breasts, beginning with a rhythmic tapping that coincided with additional pressure on my clit, then picked up speed as the strop hit my nipples a bit more firmly, gradually ramping up to a sharp sting. I could feel the shudders building in my abdomen, feel my body tightening up, getting ready for an explosion…and then Bill stopped. Everything was quiet as he stood over me staring deeply into my eyes. The next moment the Hitachi was on again and the strop was smacking again, and within seconds, I was begging for permission to come. He smiled, stayed on his task and and said nothing, knowing I was about to lose control. I begged once more, knowing full well I was at the brink, and he simply nodded. YES! Ignition and lift off!
We have quite a history together of loving springtime and nature and afternoon delights.
