Post PJ Party & Updates from the Manor

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Update: Behind the scenes at Sextoys.co.uk HQ & The Manor

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The best orgasm I never thought I'd have...

I simply must write to share what happened last night... the best orgasm of my life, I never thought it could feel like this...


The evening had included friends around the fireside, Harlot (my girlfriend) being unwell, sadly and being mostly tended to by Chayat (her boyfriend), although Sable (her husband and mine and Chayat's boyfriend - yes it's complicated, lol) and I helped as much as we could. Minnie had been around but left after the chores were completed so as to be out of the way. 


So. How do I get to the best orgasm ever from that?


The friends all left, Harlot and Chayat were tucked up soundly in another room, so Harlot could attempt to get a good night's sleep in peace. After sharing many old photographs and building the frames of each other's history, as is the way in relationships, Sable and I eventually decided in the very small hours that we should ascend to bed also...


I had my evening wash and continued to the bedroom where I found Sable grinning inanely and acting very suspicious... I did mention this but he simply responded it was because we were going to be snuggling up naked together! He often makes little comments like this, that give me a frisson of pleasure, like little happy bubbles rising and popping in my heart, reminding me of the active and not static nature of our feelings for each other.


I quickly stripped off for him, to which I could physically see his pleasure... and I jumped into bed next to him. The room was quite cold, as we rely on our fires to warm the Manor we live in, and the bedroom had been left unattended all day. However, luckily we do enjoy and maintain close physical contact so the heat rapidly returns...


We quickly moved into a more relaxed mode of cuddling, stroking and enjoying being naked together, our hands and fingers roaming just as much as our tongues were placed deep into each others mouths, and riding over each others faces and necks.


He wanted me and made it very clear. I wanted him too. I always do, at any time of the day or night.. wherever he wishes to have me.


He uttered one statement to me... 'but... we shouldn't...' and I instantly understood. We shouldn't. It's so wrong. He will get into trouble. I was trying to seduce him, make him weak, get him to sleep with me. The deliciously cruel, taunting, saucy wanton young tart trying to lure him into sex with her, to have her wicked way with him, to possibly use it against him with whichever authority. 


A hint of an age difference. A hint of his authority over me in some field... school, college? He does like me in the uniforms...


Him in the professional capacity. Me just so young, inexperienced, never having experienced a man before, a cock. Always wanting. A first crush. So new and eager to be trained, taught, moulded into whatever he wills. But I have to seduce him...


I tell him all this. I want him so much. I've been dreaming of him you see. Every night, as I touch my forbidden areas, the naughty parts of me that ache and throb with a need I cannot understand, a new feeling to my youthful body, so charged with an urgent insistent desire, and it's all for him. Dreaming that it is his flesh that touches me there, first fingers then something altogether more dangerous, more naughty. That it is his erotic juices upon my tongue, instead of merely my wet fingers that I suck on as I sleep, dreaming that he is coating my tongue and throat instead, that the remnant taste in my mouth is of his lust that he has spilled into me...


With this, he utters an animalistic growl and grabs my hair, having wavered and pleaded that 'we shouldn't', for too long now. My head forced lower. I'm asked if I trust him. I say, yes. Of course. I'll do whatever you want. Teach me. I won't tell anyone. I promise.


His cock is straining and bouncing... wanting my mouth. My tongue reaches out for that first warm, taste, that need that fills my nerve endings, from the first touch of my lips against his glistening head to when I have him fully in my mouth and fucking against my throat, 1fucking it ragged.


It is so big. I tell him this. He agrees, yet mercilessly continues. 


My mouth struggles to take him yet I continue. I make out like it's my first time, to please him. I am sucking yet not too hard... and this teasing just creates more tension, more desire, we are both audibly yearning. I suck on him. Suck, suck, suck. He drags me up and flips me over.....




My legs spread apart. Yet again asked if I trust him. Yes. But... a thought. Will you hurt me? No, of course not, he says with a small smile. Will you be gentle? Yes... I'll be gentle, he says. 


His eyes betray him. I'm glad.


Then... his fingers. Spreading my profuse wetness from my need over my arse. Waiting and wanting. Him, pressing at me. Wanting me there. NO.. no. Small voice. Please. It's not right, it's.... dirty. It's all new to me. Please. Have mercy.


Shhhhh.... he hushes me. Soft, soft, tender kisses to my ear, even whilst his cock is still placed directly at my entrance while he is over me like the sexual predator he is. I calm slightly. 


He hands me something. To help, he says. I look. I have a small, powerful toy. It's easy to use. It's perfect. I crouch, first on hands and knees with him behind, then resting completely on the side of my face, hair messed and in ravish mode about me, and on my shoulders, my arms and hands underneath me, positioning the small tool to my clit, causing more outpouring of my want, and opening me up like petals in sunlight.


He enters me then... just the head to start with. I still jolt. He takes me some more. Bit by bit, he enters me. The slowness, compared to normal, just notches up the tension a thousand-fold. He knows this. He knows all this and uses it.


Then... he slides in with ease. Completely. I moan, a low guttral, animal, catlike wail of want and satisfaction all at once in a beautiful oxymoronic poem.


We continue like this for a while. His hand on my hair, taking me, ravaging me as he wills. 


I need to cum. I really must, must orgasm.


I raise up, I need to be up, off my shoulders, I need to straighten. He brings his arm round my front, and in a practised move without even leaving me once he tilts me up, still inside me perfectly. Other hand moves to the base of my spine, pushing me both down, and out, at the same time, keeping him in prime deep position and jutting out my breasts, making me feel a spectacle, his toy, used for his purposes and desires. I'm at the edge... so close...


I am losing myself on this ocean of electrifying vision, the sensations crackle across the surface of my skin and all other conscious thought is gone, nothing else exists but the feelings... the feelings, my god they are so strong, like nothing else. He is fucking me hard now, so so violently taking me... his hand around my waist pushing me down onto him, his other creeps up and wrenches me firmly by the neck as if I were an actual kitten taken by the scruff... my head falls back onto him. He presses his hand tighter still.. my air... it cuts off. I feel nothing but him and the need. He is one with me and we are in unison. Sex was invented for us, for this moment. It is purely magical. Like nothing before. 


I cum with a loud, wailing scream... at the very split second that he releases into me too, pumping his huge load directly to my core, emptying his want into his receptacle, his vessel, his whore-kitten.


I think I fainted at that point.


When I am conscious again I am next to him. 


He is holding me. He asks me things. There are words... I used to understand them. I am struggling, I have no words. I cannot form anything coherent. I cannot even move. I send the signal to my leg to move and it goes into a small frenzy then gives up. Breathless, speechless and paralysed, barely conscious. The best orgasm I ever had, the most love I've ever felt and the most intense sensational spectacle of a sexual experience I have been a part of.


The first words I can say? I love you. He is amused that I cannot speak. This feels like nothing for him, that he can do this. That he can reduce me to this. I cannot quite conceive that he thinks this is normal, how normal people have sex. This is something amazing.


Second thing I can say? I can't actually move. This amuses him greatly. Hmmm I sense I made a mistake in that admission; or did I? ~smiles~


I feel him moving about me. There cannot possibly be more. He is cleaning himself now, all fresh and new. He is behind me spooning me, ahhh so comforting. Then... his hands between my legs, delving into that puddle of post-coital wetness, finding and feeling me. Then his cock, hard again, entering me. But.. but.... I can't move!


I know, he whispers in my ear. I'm taking advantage of you. And you love it too, don't you, you little whore. He knows I do.


He continues like this for a while, contenting himself with violating my worn out, paralysed and sex ridden and filled body, literally using me like a toy, a ragdoll for his own pleasure, benefit and need. 


Then the final, delicious, whispered reminder: just keep in mind...


... I've now had every one of your holes tonight and I can have them at any time I choose and there's nothing you can do to stop me...


I melt....


He takes me there once again. I can finally move slightly, enough to gently curl my fingers around him as his cock nestles inside my pussy, as he wraps himself around me, and we fall asleep like that, completely sated, fulfilled, satisfied, understood, wrong in all the right ways, complete deviant perfection together.


xxx

That Sunday Night...

He keeps giving me new experiences when I thought I was all out...


Emotion has not often been connected to sex for me. It has mostly been sex, for sex's sake, for the moment, because it was expected, or for a variety of other reasons. There have been times of course in my life I have thought I am having sex because I love this person, but nowadays it all feels so different, more intense, more powerful, not like anything that has happened before it.


And so it was that we came to be snuggled up, curled up together watching Avatar, Sunday night last week, the final relaxation to a long week, before the new one began, I thought. Heavy working week, then a weekend full of different exertions, some pleasurable, some family issues and some personal 'me' rants and raves.


I laid across him the whole film, well the first half curled around him then the second half I melted across his lap... he was stroking me, my face, my hair, in that affectionate way he does. Making me feel even more kitten like and I was internally purring, loving the attention, loving the care, the feelings passing between us, contentment, affection, thoughtfulness, love.


The film finally finished and in tune with the high emotive quality of the plot, so our emotions seemed to be aligned. I sat up to straddle him and he pulled me into him, deeply kissing me... 


His hands exploring my body, feeling between my clothes, under my clothes, seeking out my flesh and curves and everything else. At this point the room was dark, I was unaware if everyone had even left and here I was, being rather hastily undressed in the midnight hours, in the fire's glow and possibly with an audience! He didn't seem to be concerned as and ever, I trusted to his nature, secure in the knowledge he wouldn't do anything that would upset me or harm me in any way. Not intentionally non-consensually anyway. Hurting me because I like it comes later ;)


He laid me down flat on the sofa. Climbed over me. My knickers dragged down my legs, not even off properly. His breath hot upon my face, against my neck, his lips hot and wanting, demanding.


I was wearing his favourite dress, I recall. These details fade in the face of the weightier memories of the feelings attached to that night. My dress... black, slinky, only semi-opaque, the sheer transparent panels giving only the faintest nod towards complete modesty. He loves me in that dress. I love his reaction to it, in every way.


The dress... dragged up and around my hips. My sex explored, roughly but with such loving roughness, fingers probing, over, between, inside... feeling for my eager wetness which readily awaited him, as always it does.


His face never left mine. Our flesh needed to meet at all times, rutting like alley animals yet the sensations passing between us were so advanced it was like we became something more than what actually is. Just pure emotion, his hot mouth to my neck, my teeth seeking his lips, our tongues lashing each others and sucking and needing, demanding and the words tumbling from our mouths, like a torrent of water over a mighty fall.


I wanted him so much, I could barely see anything else. The need and feeling flashing before my eyes stopped all other sight.


He was there, at my entrance, insistent, needing, expectant, ready, wilful and forceful. With one rise up to get properly into position he slipped straight into me... hard... and took the remaining breath from me, a talent he has using a variety of methods. I think is one of his favourites though...


We both stopped the words for what seemed like an age... our lips barely touching, all other action and exertion finished for now. This was different to all other times, something closer, not power exchange, no games, no roleplay, just he and I, sharing the sensation, fulfilling the physical realisation of our shared passion, emotion and serene, demandless and free love. 


He filled me entirely and took me then, slowly, so softly and tenderly yet completing me in ways I didn't know I had required, previously. This was new, so unexpected to me, and I loved it. I loved him. I love him.


We stayed in our personal Elysia for an age, riding those feelings and tendrils of shared passion.


When finally the climax came... we couldn't speak for so long. It was absolute perfection.