Indecipherable Scrawlings

The beads were a good choice I mused.  The contrast between the gentle curves and sharp edge concave entrances providing a varied if uniformly uncomfortable pressure on the knees her straight backed posture put almost all her weight on.  Unconsciously she squirmed to find a more comfortable position only to free when her slight movements pulled her trapped nipples taught against the binding clamps I'd mounted on the side of the table.  Rope nearly sliced into the base of those lovely breasts, looping behind her into a tight harness whose tails stretched straight up to the ceiling and through the loop on her collar.  Effectively fixing her in place and making her desperately wish to be elsewhere.

And that was before my crop came down.  Snapping a kiss on the sensative and vulnerable tits.  Her attempt to flinch failed.  The clamps bit down and the rope offered her no slack.  No where for her to go as my crop kissed it's was across her chest.  There was a little more room as I reached around to switch her bottom, but a firm hand on her throat fixed that.  I let myself slip away in the soothing rhythm, beating a furious tattoo.  Lastly I tickled her feet, letting the leather caress make her giggle even as her skins glowed with fresh marks.

With a contented sigh I settled down behind her.  One hand still cradling her slender, vibrant throat as the other pushed slowly across her stomach.  Raking the pommel my crop over soft skin.  I forced the hard, corded hilt into her welcoming slit.  Gently pushing her open as I kissed her shoulder.  She shuddered beneath my lips as the vibrator buzzed to life right against her clit.  Braided leather and pulsing plastic alternating as my finger closed around fur, leather and pulsing neck.  My teether pulled at her ear, both of us resounding as I growled.

Some combination of yelp and moan was forced out of her as I entered her.  Taking her ass.  Slamming into her as the clamps released.  Violently needy thrusts.  Alternating against the grinding crop and vine.  Rocking her back and forth on the beads.  My free hand mauling at her burning tits.  Sensation crashing into her, churning her tumultuous thoughts to buzzing nothingness.  Exploding out into utter stillness as I exploded into her.

I am an English Field Marshal and she is my map.  In the she was strung up against the wall, pricked with pins, and then beaten with a pointer I wielded with reckless force while I muttering vile incentives against the French before breaking for tea.

A friend and I were cutting up a fallen tree or at least trying to.  He was struggling to get the chainsaw started so I told him, "you got to choke it a little more to get it going."

He told me that he was trying to start the saw, not excited his girlfriend.

Though in great pain he was uncomplicatedly happy. He knew himself to be loved. She had lavished endearments upon him and held him in her arms. True, this was only after she had knocked him half senseless with some sort of blunt instrument. But no doubt all would be explained in the fullness of time.

My new favorite bird is the Tit-warbler.  Yes, that is it's real name.  No, I have not been drinking.  And not only does it have a funny name the white brow tit-warbler is a ball of rainbow fluff.

https://www.theanimalclub.net/wildlife/meet-the-white-browed-tit-warbler-the-bird-with-a-beautiful-rainbow-coloring/

Living in space presents several problems, but none more prominent than the lack of gravity.  Not because it leads to muscle loss, bone decalcification, and incredibly vertigo as those are small things.  Rather without gravity there is nothing to counteract momentum so if you were to thrust whatever you were thrusting into would continue floating off in that direction while you either become stationary or worse slide off in the opposite way.  Meaning sex is very difficult.

Thankfully NASA has conducted some serious "theoretical" research into the matter.  Reportedly involving a very expensive and camera filled pool.  There were obvious solutions; straps, harnesses, different positions.  But the best solution was an idea taken from dolphins who often involve a third fish whose job it is to bump the others back into positions.  Making the next step up from the Mile High Club the Three Dolphins Club.

This also means if you're having trouble selling someone on a threesome tell them it's important...for science!

A friend newly curious about kink asked me what aftercare was and I said it was kinda like Bigfoot.  Obviously that didn't help much so I explained that it's the missing link between "You're a worthless whore" and "My love."

Just when you think you've heard it all before someone shares a story about a Shaman defacing someone's house during a dispute over Magic the Gathering cards.

Which is a sentence I never expected to write but somehow doesn't shock me.

"Sir your sword has become unsheathed."

Possibly the best way to be told your fly is down ever.

Honestly she was trying.  Washing and scrubbing, as the misting spray caught the light coming in the window to give her a warm halo.  I might have even intended to help as I padded softly up behind her.  But the sweet sent of ripe apples put me in mind of plucking not scrubbing as I settle my hands firmly on her hips.  Leaning down I nuzzled her hair away to expose her slender neck to my lips as I basked in the feel of her against me.

"I'm trying to get these done."  She giggle as I nibble at her.

"Never told you to stop."  I breathed softly into her ear before taking her lobe in my teeth and giving it a playful tug.

"You're being very distracting."  She mock scolded as one of my hands drew up her skirt.

"And you're not wearing panties."  I growled happily as my fingers found her uncovered and moist in anticipation.

One hand roughly pushed her forward as the other pulled her hips back into me.  Instinctively her hands shot out to grab the counter for support.  Hand moving around to clamp firmly on her slender neck I whispered, "Don't stop."

Her only answer was a moan as my freed cock slide along her slit.  She tried to return to the dishes, trembling hands fumbling with the sauce pan from last night as I held her upright and enjoyed the feel of her as I slid back forth.  The sauce pan dropped as I slammed into her.

My hand left her stomach and came down hard on her exposed ass.  The crack filled the kitchen and she leapt back to the dishes as I settled into a soft steady rhythm.  Pushing myself deeper as the soft feel softly across my face, enjoying the feel of her around me as new scents joined the aroma of apples.  With them my excitement grew and it was not long before I abandoned my restrained pace and her any pretext of working.  One hand tore open the neck of her dress to maul her tender breasts as the other raked fingers down her side to find her clit.  She took the counter in a death grip as I bent fully over her, our bodies a hot jumbled mess.  Her moans gradually took the form of pleas and I growled in response knowing it wouldn't be long but making her wait.

The command was given and she came.  Her pussy clamping down.  A velvety vice that drove me over the edge and milked every last drop of me into her.  Her knees wobbled and gave out as my arms took her weight fully as I forced myself into her for the last few heady thrusts.

Gradually I took her and her ruined dress into my arms.  Lifting her with a grunt and moving decided away from the dishes.  I saw confusion poking through the fuzzy vacantness on her face.

"We'll do the dishes later..." I grunted.