Clayton Cubitt
4/27/2008
4/24/2008
4/20/2008
Birthday Girl: Act 2
It's amazing the difference a blindfold makes. There was one late comer in the first group, but the blindfold was off so thought I might as well leave it off. It took a while to get things started since he had to get past the whole "me as a person" thing before he could get to the "me as a pussy" stage. Luckily the transformation didn't take long. Jefferson took a seat in the chair beside the bed, put his feet up and watched the festivities. I held on to his foot while the late comer rejuvinated my temporarily sleepy vagina.
There was still time for a nice break before the next batch and thank god for that, because I was starving! J. fixed me a plate of pulled pork (heh, heh, "pulled pork") and cole slaw, which I devoured feverishly while he caught up with some e-mail. We chatted and I lounged on the couch taking advantage of the break, but looking forward to the next act. There was one guest who would be coming at 5:30, but the rest were due at 5:00.
5:00 came, then 5:15, 5:20... hmm
"Where are my people?" J. wondered.
"Yeah?" I looked out of the window to the street below. "Where are all the cock?!" As someone who hates tardiness, this was just unacceptable.
5:30 came and went with no calls or e-mails. I was staring to come down a little, getting a little too relaxed. Then at 5:45 or so the buzzer rang. Startled, I leaped to my feet. J. got up to head for the door as I pulled myself together. "Places!" I said and ran into the bedroom. I replaced the blindfold and settled into my established come hither pose.
Second shift
Once more I sank into the bed and listened to the heavy breathing, felt the hands over my body, tasted a strange tongue. With only two there, it was less feverish than the first round, but just as good. His body was tight and rock hard, and he fucked like a stallion. When it was J.s turn again, he was not to be left out and I felt a finger slip into my very, well used cunt along side J.s dick. I came thinking of two cocks in me at the same time. I dare to dream.
Once again, after our guest had tired, I lifted up the blindfold to see the identity of bachelor number 7 (?). "He's really cute." I stage whispered to J. "I know," he said. "I'm not the one who's been blindfolded."
Since, revealed identity seems to incite conversation, we got to talking about this and that. It looked like the other group wasn't going to make it, but that was fine. I was beyond satisfied and honestly, starting to get a tad sore. The subject of double penetration came up. "Want to give it a shot" our guest asked.
"Yeah! Sure!" I said. If he had it in him to keep going, I wanted it in me. I straddled J. and sank down on to his dick while our guest took his place at my ass. He may be only one man but he was full of good ideas! It more than made up for the non-arrivals. I buried my head in J.s neck, he lay still while our new friend rode my ass. He came, collapsing on my back, I came collapsing on J.'s stomach.
Orgasm, orgasm, orgasm and...
Scene!
After a well deserved drink, we made our way out to dinner. Fucking sure does work up an appetite: a few more drinks, a big burger with bacon and a cute waiter with a tight ass. Perfection. We talked about the parameters of the next groups and how does one define "sex"? Do people just watching and jerking off count? Does there have to be a penis? We both thought we should include women as well, strap-ons would be fun. Hands count. Oral count. I concluded, for these purposes, there would have to be penetration of one of my orifices with something (inanimate or not) to count.
Back at his place, we both thought snuggling to a good movie would be the best ending for the day. A little Catherine Deneuve perhaps? How about Repulsion? It seemed fitting: the story of a a sexually repressed girl with a fear of men slowly going insane.
Probably not the best choice at 1:00am. After 20 minutes we we both out.
The next day we hit The Armory Show. A marathon of art after a marathon of sex.
The last time someone went to this much trouble for by birthday, I was in the 3rd grade. We had tacos and a piñata. Thanks J. for making me feel so special on what I used to think was not that special a day.
7 down. 29 more to go.
There was still time for a nice break before the next batch and thank god for that, because I was starving! J. fixed me a plate of pulled pork (heh, heh, "pulled pork") and cole slaw, which I devoured feverishly while he caught up with some e-mail. We chatted and I lounged on the couch taking advantage of the break, but looking forward to the next act. There was one guest who would be coming at 5:30, but the rest were due at 5:00.
5:00 came, then 5:15, 5:20... hmm
"Where are my people?" J. wondered.
"Yeah?" I looked out of the window to the street below. "Where are all the cock?!" As someone who hates tardiness, this was just unacceptable.
5:30 came and went with no calls or e-mails. I was staring to come down a little, getting a little too relaxed. Then at 5:45 or so the buzzer rang. Startled, I leaped to my feet. J. got up to head for the door as I pulled myself together. "Places!" I said and ran into the bedroom. I replaced the blindfold and settled into my established come hither pose.
Second shift
Once more I sank into the bed and listened to the heavy breathing, felt the hands over my body, tasted a strange tongue. With only two there, it was less feverish than the first round, but just as good. His body was tight and rock hard, and he fucked like a stallion. When it was J.s turn again, he was not to be left out and I felt a finger slip into my very, well used cunt along side J.s dick. I came thinking of two cocks in me at the same time. I dare to dream.
Once again, after our guest had tired, I lifted up the blindfold to see the identity of bachelor number 7 (?). "He's really cute." I stage whispered to J. "I know," he said. "I'm not the one who's been blindfolded."
Since, revealed identity seems to incite conversation, we got to talking about this and that. It looked like the other group wasn't going to make it, but that was fine. I was beyond satisfied and honestly, starting to get a tad sore. The subject of double penetration came up. "Want to give it a shot" our guest asked.
"Yeah! Sure!" I said. If he had it in him to keep going, I wanted it in me. I straddled J. and sank down on to his dick while our guest took his place at my ass. He may be only one man but he was full of good ideas! It more than made up for the non-arrivals. I buried my head in J.s neck, he lay still while our new friend rode my ass. He came, collapsing on my back, I came collapsing on J.'s stomach.
Orgasm, orgasm, orgasm and...
Scene!
After a well deserved drink, we made our way out to dinner. Fucking sure does work up an appetite: a few more drinks, a big burger with bacon and a cute waiter with a tight ass. Perfection. We talked about the parameters of the next groups and how does one define "sex"? Do people just watching and jerking off count? Does there have to be a penis? We both thought we should include women as well, strap-ons would be fun. Hands count. Oral count. I concluded, for these purposes, there would have to be penetration of one of my orifices with something (inanimate or not) to count.
Back at his place, we both thought snuggling to a good movie would be the best ending for the day. A little Catherine Deneuve perhaps? How about Repulsion? It seemed fitting: the story of a a sexually repressed girl with a fear of men slowly going insane.
Probably not the best choice at 1:00am. After 20 minutes we we both out.
The next day we hit The Armory Show. A marathon of art after a marathon of sex.
The last time someone went to this much trouble for by birthday, I was in the 3rd grade. We had tacos and a piñata. Thanks J. for making me feel so special on what I used to think was not that special a day.
7 down. 29 more to go.
4/14/2008
New erogenous zone
Ben and I were lounging in bed limply holding hands after a quick morning roll in the hay. It had been a while, I was pretty much done. I was ready to get up, take a shower, get on with the day and all. He started twirling his finger lazily in the palm of my hand and I started getting all kinds of wet all over again.
Even doing it to myself is turning me on.
You learn something new everyday.
Even doing it to myself is turning me on.
You learn something new everyday.
4/10/2008
4/05/2008
4/04/2008
Post Winter Fire: ask and ye shall receive
I was sitting in a chair watching Jocasta suspend Lynsey, somewhat content that the weekend had come to an end. The dungeon room was pretty empty and I suppose I was feeling a little melancholy.
Zelda then came up to me and said, "Do you want to do something?"
I perked up and smiled, "Yeah, sure!" I felt like a kid sitting on the playground edge being asked to join in on some four-square or some double-dutch. She asked me what I was in the mood for. That was easy.
"I wanna get beat up! Flogging, punching and whatever else strikes your fancy." After Lynsey had been sufficiently reduced to a glowing bit of goo, it was my turn.
I was blindfolded with my thighs roped up, gripping the ring above me. Snugly resting in my cunt was a remote control vibe . As much as I would love to give a great play-by-play, I can't and I take that as a good thing. Once the blindfold was on, everything else melted away leaving nothing but nerve endings.
I know there was flogging of various kinds, punching of buttocks, poking and prodding, and a vibrator in my cunt. I think there was a knife thrown in there too, if I recall. That's about all the detail I can give, because I was pretty much just swimming in sensation the rest of the time. At one point it felt as though there were four hands on me instead of two and all coming in different directions, impossibly fast. My head was swimming, I was crying, I was laughing. After the thud came sting and then the pricks, then fur. It was hands and arms and lips and huge, laughing blue eyes looking back into mine.
I sometimes have a hard time asking for what I want. I take that back. I can ask for what I want easily enough. It's harder for me to ask for what I need. I'm so used to tending to myself, I have a hard time admitting when I might require a little something from someone else. I don't want to be a bother, I don't want to be any trouble, I don't want to take up any valuable time.
I forget that sometimes what I need to receive might be what someone else needs to give.
Zelda then came up to me and said, "Do you want to do something?"
I perked up and smiled, "Yeah, sure!" I felt like a kid sitting on the playground edge being asked to join in on some four-square or some double-dutch. She asked me what I was in the mood for. That was easy.
"I wanna get beat up! Flogging, punching and whatever else strikes your fancy." After Lynsey had been sufficiently reduced to a glowing bit of goo, it was my turn.
I was blindfolded with my thighs roped up, gripping the ring above me. Snugly resting in my cunt was a remote control vibe . As much as I would love to give a great play-by-play, I can't and I take that as a good thing. Once the blindfold was on, everything else melted away leaving nothing but nerve endings.
I know there was flogging of various kinds, punching of buttocks, poking and prodding, and a vibrator in my cunt. I think there was a knife thrown in there too, if I recall. That's about all the detail I can give, because I was pretty much just swimming in sensation the rest of the time. At one point it felt as though there were four hands on me instead of two and all coming in different directions, impossibly fast. My head was swimming, I was crying, I was laughing. After the thud came sting and then the pricks, then fur. It was hands and arms and lips and huge, laughing blue eyes looking back into mine.
I sometimes have a hard time asking for what I want. I take that back. I can ask for what I want easily enough. It's harder for me to ask for what I need. I'm so used to tending to myself, I have a hard time admitting when I might require a little something from someone else. I don't want to be a bother, I don't want to be any trouble, I don't want to take up any valuable time.
I forget that sometimes what I need to receive might be what someone else needs to give.
4/01/2008
Post Winter Fire: He has risen
I love it when worlds collide. Easter weekend may not be the best time to hold a kinky conference in a hotel blocks away from the Capital: Easter egg roll on the White House lawn, Spring Break and cherry blossoms -vs- fucking machines, play piercing and tantric sex. It's all just a fantastic sociological experiment just aching to go horribly, horribly wrong.
But I love Easter. It's my favorite holiday: little girls in pretty dresses and little boys in ties, women with big crazy hats, PAAS, Cadbury Eggs, plastic grass, and the beginning of Spring. Rebirth, renewal, it's all good. It's also the one day out of the year I go to church. I'm not very religous and was raised in a pretty secular household. We went through a church phase for a while and then we all grew tired of it. But once a year, I like to sit in a pew, listen to a choir and watch the sun shine through stained glass.
I had been debating going all weekend. Did I really want to get up early, miss the Fucking Machines class and sit in church for an hour? Who knew what state I was going to be in Sunday morning? Aside from that "am I hung-over or am I still drunk?" feeling, I was doing alright. Plus, I really wanted to go to the Kinky Barbershop class, but it was at 10:30, church time.
But when God closes a door, he opens a window. Lucky for me there was a church just a few blocks away from the hotel. It was a Lutheran Church that was temporarily housing a United Church of Christ church (the denomination I grew up with) while their own building was under repair. So, the UCC service didn't start until 1:00. Perfect!
I made it to the Kinky Barbershop, but had to leave early to change. I wore these black boots with little kitten heels that seem tame enough, but the last time I wore them was at a BDSM club, so as far as I was concerned, from the knees down I was still in the dungeon. It was a beautiful, sunny mild day and it was nice to get out of the hotel and walk in the sunshine for a while. I sat down near the back and watched people greeting each other and helping old ladies into pews. I tugged my off-white sweater over the red-wrist band and tried not to look like the proverbial "whore in church."
Church always makes me cry. I don't know why, but as soon as the music started so did the water works. I held them back the best I could, I concentrated on my breathing, I kissed the pew with my asshole á la "Erotic Breathwork" and pulled myself together. The choir was really lovely, but by the time the sermon started, I began wondering what I was missing back at the Hilton. Then I opened up the program to follow the lyrics of the chosen hymn:
Spirit of the living God, fall afresh on me
Melt me,
Mold me,
Fill me,
Use me,
Spirit of the living God, fall afresh on me
That was it. The knowing smirk was now permanently etched on my face for the rest of the service. I had an overwhelming urge to steal a hymnal for some reason. So the remaining time was spent plotting the best way to sneak out a hymnal without anyone seeing me: old lady to the left of me, WASPy family to the right of me. I could put the book in my lap, cover it with my coat... I could bend down to check my bag and slip it in...
I chickened out in the end and put a $10 bill in the collection plate.
But I love Easter. It's my favorite holiday: little girls in pretty dresses and little boys in ties, women with big crazy hats, PAAS, Cadbury Eggs, plastic grass, and the beginning of Spring. Rebirth, renewal, it's all good. It's also the one day out of the year I go to church. I'm not very religous and was raised in a pretty secular household. We went through a church phase for a while and then we all grew tired of it. But once a year, I like to sit in a pew, listen to a choir and watch the sun shine through stained glass.
I had been debating going all weekend. Did I really want to get up early, miss the Fucking Machines class and sit in church for an hour? Who knew what state I was going to be in Sunday morning? Aside from that "am I hung-over or am I still drunk?" feeling, I was doing alright. Plus, I really wanted to go to the Kinky Barbershop class, but it was at 10:30, church time.
But when God closes a door, he opens a window. Lucky for me there was a church just a few blocks away from the hotel. It was a Lutheran Church that was temporarily housing a United Church of Christ church (the denomination I grew up with) while their own building was under repair. So, the UCC service didn't start until 1:00. Perfect!
I made it to the Kinky Barbershop, but had to leave early to change. I wore these black boots with little kitten heels that seem tame enough, but the last time I wore them was at a BDSM club, so as far as I was concerned, from the knees down I was still in the dungeon. It was a beautiful, sunny mild day and it was nice to get out of the hotel and walk in the sunshine for a while. I sat down near the back and watched people greeting each other and helping old ladies into pews. I tugged my off-white sweater over the red-wrist band and tried not to look like the proverbial "whore in church."
Church always makes me cry. I don't know why, but as soon as the music started so did the water works. I held them back the best I could, I concentrated on my breathing, I kissed the pew with my asshole á la "Erotic Breathwork" and pulled myself together. The choir was really lovely, but by the time the sermon started, I began wondering what I was missing back at the Hilton. Then I opened up the program to follow the lyrics of the chosen hymn:
Spirit of the living God, fall afresh on me
Melt me,
Mold me,
Fill me,
Use me,
Spirit of the living God, fall afresh on me
That was it. The knowing smirk was now permanently etched on my face for the rest of the service. I had an overwhelming urge to steal a hymnal for some reason. So the remaining time was spent plotting the best way to sneak out a hymnal without anyone seeing me: old lady to the left of me, WASPy family to the right of me. I could put the book in my lap, cover it with my coat... I could bend down to check my bag and slip it in...
I chickened out in the end and put a $10 bill in the collection plate.
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