Thursday, November 13, 2014


We lay together in the warm light of the afterglow.  I had my torso against his thigh, he was leaning back against the headboard.  I raised up and sipped on the glass he had recently refilled for me.
"You're a wild woman Mia."  His deep drawling voice cut through the peaceful stillness.  I turned my face toward him and smiled before settling my head back against his belly.
"I like what I like.." I answered.
"Yes, well, that is a fact." He spoke with a clear sense of egotistical pride.  I had let him in, lowered my walls and took his proverbial hand and let him lead me down the yellow brick road.
"Was that what subspace looks like for you?" he questioned.
I hesitated, thinking of how to reply in the most precise way.  I took a deep breath, sighing and closing my eyes for a second then opening them, memories of lust displayed in my half closed glassy eyes. Finally I said a simple "yes" and "thank you".
He wove his hand into my long blond hair and tugged, pulling my neck back, he leaned forward and kissed my lips then he spoke into my parted mouth "you're wild Mia."  His warm lips pecked mine then he said, again, a breadth away from my mouth "I am so glad you're like this with Me".  I opened my eyes and looked up into his, steal grey with flecks of green. "Thank you for taking me there.."

The next morning I woke up at his loft.  He didn't really live here but stayed here when he visited town.  The place looked like a place he would live, rustic and rough, masculine through and through but also not lived in, sterile because he never moved in, only stayed occasionally like a hotel room.  There was very little clothing, toiletries and hardly any food.  He was always ordering food for us or running out to pick something up.  When he was in town we rarely went out, instead, finding the best use of our time together consisted of staying indoors, mostly undressed.  He was standing at the island, I was sitting at the bar. I had panties and his shirt from the night before on. He wore only boxers.  He was buttering bagels and I was sipping tea, Eric Clapton's voice came through the soundbar.  I made a face at him and he pressed the skip on his phone which was charging on the edge of the counter.  Suddenly it was Elvis Costello's voice. I smiled.
"I had never done that before, like that.. I mean, all the way" he stated suddenly.  I knew exactly was he was referring to and grinned.
"You were so wet, god, and ... it didn't hurt at all?" He questioned.  I assured him that no, it didn't hurt and went on "It was amazing, I don't know how to describe how awesome it feels to be so full." I paused then continued "when I look down and see your arm, your hand.. just disappearing, combined with the fullness... and I can look into your eyes and you have this crazy look... absolute disbelief.. fuck it's so hot!  As far as fetish goes, that is mine, forearms, fingering, fisting, the three F's..."  He laughed "All the best things begin with F, or M.. like Mia."

Yes I have always had a thing for fingering.  I love fingering fantasies and fingering porn.  My tumblr is full of images of women with hands and fingers inside of them.  When I think back to my earliest sexual experiences it involves hiding in shrubbery behind the school and some macho older boy with his hands down the front of my skin tight Jordache jeans wiggling a finger in my wet hole or being at home under a blanket watching a movie with my brother and his friends,  one of his friends with his hand up my shorts sliding into me.  I clearly remember looking down at my first boyfriend's wrist and he slipped his finger up the leg hole of my panties to dip into my wetness.  Then when I discovered girls, the first hand up my cunt had a bony wrist and slim fingers that curled inside me.  In college I would judge guys in bars by looking at their wrists and forearms.  I dated bass players under the assumption that they would have a special speed and strength to their finger and wrist movements and that turned out to be sometimes true.  If I found a strong smooth wrist on a guy I sometimes pursued them at parties or at bars to lure them into make out sessions in somewhat private back rooms or bathroom stalls just to be try and get them as far as reaching inside of me and looking down and seeing the tightening of muscles and tendons as their fingers wiggled inside my wetness.  If cell phones has existed back in the day I would have had quite a collection of forearm photographs.
It wasn't until after college that I discovered the feeling of true fullness and it all happened so accidentally.
During my last year in college and for 18 months after college I had a roommate named Kevin. He was a friend of one of my boyfriends.  He was awkward and somewhat antisocial. He was a gentle giant, a 6'3" Russian jewish punk rocker who went to art school and studied photography.  He was soft spoken and had lots of female friends but never dated.  He just didn't have a sexual vibe so everyone always just thought of him as a friend.  He moved in with me after his own roommate began dealing drugs.  I had the room and he had the money so it worked out great.  I was always coming and going and bringing lovers home.  He never complained, but rarely joined me when I went out with friends.  One night I was entertaining a boyfriend with my door partly cracked when I noticed a shadow in the hallway.  I had been partying and wasn't in the clearest mindset but I knew that Kevin was out there and was getting an eye full.
The next day as I readied myself for work I felt the tension thick between my roommate and I. All day I thought about how much it turned me on to know he was watching and it made me curious about him.  He was not boyfriend material but I wondered if he was turned on by me or just the sex. I suddenly realized how much masturbation material I had probably provided him with through the years living together.  After that things changed between us. I would wake up and walk through the apartment in a t-shirt and panties, especially if the house was chilly and I knew my nipples would stand up firm.  I curled my feet underneath me while watching television, which would raise my nightie up and give him a view of my ass.  I wore tank tops with deep scoops, bra less and made sure I bent over to give him an eye full.  Once I was sitting across from him on the sofa eating a bowl of ice cream after work. I had peeled my sweater off so I wore a light tight tank and my miniskirt and boots.  The tank was see through and the outline of my nipples was clear.  I was going through a panti-less phase at that time.  I was preoccupied with scooping the cherries and chocolate out of my Cherry Garcia ice cream while rambling on about my weekend plans when I suddenly looked up to find him looking between my thighs. His hand was on his lap and there was a clear bulge.  I looked quickly down at my ice cream and very subtly let my leg open wider.  From my calculations he was getting a full beaver shot.  Not looking up from my ice cream, I wiggled my ass lower onto the edge of the sofa, raising my skirt higher up and let my legs open wider.  I paused for a second like that then I looked up at him.  His mouth was slightly open and he looked very uncomfortable.  He met my eyes and quickly stood up, embarrassed and apologizing repeatedly.  I said his name "Kevin" and he froze.  His blue work trousers were very distended and he shoved his hands in his pockets trying to hide his erection.  I said, "It's ok, there is no victim here."  My legs were still wide and from where he stood he could still clearly see my crotch. "I don't mind you looking."  I admitted to him. Then I made the big confession "In fact I like it". We both froze for a full minute then he returned to his chair, and began unzipping his fly. He began apologizing again "I am sorry but I have to.." he said as he started jerking off.  I took another bite of melty ice cream as he stroked.
This is how the roommate situation went for the next two weeks. After work or whenever i would get home from Happy Hour, i would let him look at my pussy and I would watch his face as he stared at my folds.  One night he met me and a bunch of friends at a club to see some bands. Between sets I stood next to him at the bar and he ordered me another beer. He gave me a friendly sideways hug and said "thank you Mia".  I knew what he meant but I wanted to hear more so I asked, "for what?" "For letting me see you, to look at it" he said awkwardly "You know, "  he went on "before you, the only one I have ever seen has been at the models at school, and those are never.. you know.. " "Wide open?" I suggested.  "Yes" he replied laughing, then he added somberly "it's beautiful you know".

This opened the conversation between us and we began discussing our unique arrangement more openly.  I told him I couldn't ever see us fucking and he said he was fine with that but he asked if there wasn't some way he could please me.  I looked at his tattoo covered forearms and said "yes."
From that evening on, his left hand would stroke his cock while his right hand would explore my pussy. I would lay back and he would touch me, experimenting with soft touches, tapping touches, opening me, stretching me wide. I would lay back on the sofa and he would kneel in the floor between my legs, is face inches from me, looking.  One day two of his fingers slipped in and he rotated his forearm and my face lit up. He twisted again and my nipples tensed and the wetness gathered in between his fingers.  He removed them and I pouted. He asked if it hurt and i purred "noooooo". He slid them in again and i moaned softly and he curled them up and he felt my insides tense.  "More?" i asked.  His forearm twisted again and I gasped and he wiggled another finger then another inside. His hand was crunch together but each slight movement sent me shuddering.  I looked down as he angled his wrist and pushed past his knuckles and I felt my insides squeezing him and suddenly the juices flowed wetly around his palm. I glanced as his face, my lust filled eyes, reduced by pleasure to mere slits, and I saw that he had that look of amazement and surprise and utter adoration.  Glancing down at his ink stained forearm and his un-ensconced thumb, I nodded at him and let my eyes close.

1 comment:

Gordon77 said...

Love it Mia i see me on your blog have a nice day xo