Under the Weather

I've been so sick the past week with an allergy-induced head cold, and in an all-around shitty mood. Yesterday, starting to feel a little better, I realized my bad temper probably had more to do with not getting laid in five days and less with being sick. So, The Artist treated me to a great afternoon romp when I came home early from work.

He started off with kisses on my lips, face and neck, his hands cradling my face, and then got me off with his fingers and tongue. And then again. And then almost a third time, but it was one of those really deep inner cunt orgasms that just go on and on and never quite peak. He could tell I was primed, and started rolling me back and forth - belly and back - whacking my ass and smacking my tits around. With me on my back, he fucked my tits. I licked the cock head every time it emerged, and loved feeling his balls pressed hard against my belly. He slid down and fucked my cunt, kissing my mouth, putting his arms around me, and made me come again. I blew him, unable to take him all the way in because my throat is still sore as all hell, and then watched him jerk off until he came on my face.

I love the look on his face when he calls me his "little whore." A look like he knows he owns me. I'm a feminist, daughter of a feminist, and a dues-paying member of the National Organization for Women, but I love a man who knows he's a man. A man who relishes his masculinity in a pure way, without any misogyny. He respects his woman and can be kind and generous, but knows how to make a woman feel possessed and feel like his woman. Make any sense?

Things are starting to look hopeful on the Girlfriend Search. Chatting up a cute, chubby thing on a BDSM dating site. We have a lot in common, including our relationship situations (i.e. her partner is okay with her having an outside female sex buddy). Keeping fingers crossed.

Highlights of the Last Month

The Artist had me collared, blind-folded, wrists cuffed behind my back, and bent over a table in his studio while he beat my ass with a crop. Strangely, the first time I've allowed myself to be blindfolded or have my hands restrained; I've just never trusted someone enough before. Terrifying and lovely. When he was done beating me and tossing me around, he propped me up on a chair and ate me out.

Many, many wonderful blowjobs with his fingers in my hair, his hands pushing my head down further and faster, his stomach muscles clenching against my cheek, his sexy voice calling me his filthy whore and telling me to choke on his dick. Telling me to lick his asshole while jerking him off, his balls flopping against my eyes and nose. God, I love that sound in his voice when I take him down my throat, and his glee when he told me to take him all in and then try to lick his balls and I was able to do it.

Telling him over drinks at a bar that getting fucked in the ass is more intimate than the cunt. That any idiot can fuck me in the cunt and do me no harm, but I need to trust and like a man to let him take my ass and know that he'll do it right. That night he fucked my ass for the first time, making me come and telling me (to my absolute delight) that he went easy on me and will "really go at it" next time.

The Artist asking me not to date other men and me agreeing. He's amused with how sexual I am, though, and wants me to have girlfriends. Not for a three-way, not for us, just for me. Bless his heart.