Posts Tagged ‘blow jobs’

Five Blow Jobs

September 9, 2013  |  dirty stories  |  3 Comments

I.

After the workshop. I haven’t had enough of you (will I ever get enough of you) and strip you bare, glove my hand, slide two fingers inside you, sideways on our huge bed. The lamplight is different than the bright white of this room during the day, more warm, orange-yellow-gold and more full of shadows, and the shadows and the gold fall onto your skin like paint. In the car on the way back I couldn’t resist (can rarely resist, it’s so hard to resist when part of our dynamic is built around taking what I want) and slide your small fingers into my mouth. You miss the exit. Your fingers are blunt and I trace your jagged nails with my tongue, suck the salt from the pads, taste the day on your skin. I pull your wrist down to your pelvis and take two fingers in my mouth again when my two fingers are inside you, gently pressing, not a lot of motion, and I start to suck you off. Up and down your fingers like a cock. I hold your g-spot and feel it quiver in my fingers. I let your fingers out of my mouth so you can touch your clit, and keep my tongue on the back of your hand. You shudder and convulse against my mouth, your cunt grips my fingers. You slide your fingers back in my mouth, eager, and I taste you, just a little, at the tips, and I do it all over again.

II.

On the side of the bed, but you’re not supposed to be coming that day, and you do. It sneaks up on you in a moan, but before you can really come you stop yourself, blurting out, “fuck!” again, and it’s the second time you’ve come without permission, and you’re in trouble. You back off and look at me shyly; I am laughing at your distress, you just feel so bad for defying the rules, and the guilt is more than enough punishment. I can feel how bad you want to please me. I am enjoying this too, too much: your attempts to do things just right and your scrambles to fix it when you are so happy, so pleased to be serving me, servicing me, kneeling before me, my cock in your throat. It’s enough for you to see that look on my face, that ecstasy you’re causing, that overwhelming lust and adoration as your tongue hits the head so soft and slow as you suck it down, which makes me want to pulse and shoot, makes me feel my balls (as if I had them) contract and swell, cocked and loaded. You move back toward my dick with your lips parted and I push you away. “No—I think you’re done sucking my cock. You lost that privilege when you came without asking. Down. Kiss my boots.”

III.

Long slow aftercare. I let the beating settle into your body—the belt, my hands, the restraints on your ankles and wrists. After some time on the bed I move us to the chair so you can sit on my lap. You wrap around me, sink down. You quiet and calm and I ask, “Ready to suck my cock again?” You say yes, quickly, in a whisper, and kneel between my knees. I loosen the harness and touch my clit under it while you suck me down. (You’re not supposed to come today, still; one of us may as well.) “Good boy,” I breathe as I watch your mouth, tongue, lips, my cock down your throat. I let you guide it. I let you slide it however deep you want. I push a little, because that’s what I do, but mostly I just concentrate on the feeling and the sight. I almost come but it’s too much, I get overstimulated and don’t have the right angle so I get up and take my jeans off, my socks and shoes and briefs, and spread my legs wider, get a better grip under the harness. You start in again and I imagine what your mouth would feel like. I know every inch of it, know every ridge of the roof and every tastebud on your tongue and every valley of your teeth with my fingers and my tongue, but fuck how I wish I could feel those with my cock. We are making do with what we have and you are an expert at sucking me down, swallowing, and I think about how I’d get tight and build up pressure, ready to shoot. You moan around my cock and I feel it in my pelvis and I feel you squirt on my ankle and foot, you’re straddling my leg. “Ohh fuck you’re in trouble,” I manage. You whimper a little, give me those eyes, those sweet little boy eyes like you would do anything for your daddy, you’re sorry, you didn’t mean to, you couldn’t help it, and it doesn’t take long before I’m over the edge for you, coming in your mouth, yelling out and curling my spine and feeling how I’d shove and come to the back of your throat. I breathe, my body stills. You sink down onto your belly and put your tongue to my foot, clean it off, suck my instep. With your head still down low, you say, “Am I still in trouble?” and I laugh.

IV.

You walk over to me with your cock on, hard and thick and fitting you, jutting out from your hips. “Can you stand?” I ask. You nod. I sit on the edge of the bed. You let me feel it, with my hands and along my lips, my jaw, getting to know its new contours. I put my tongue on it, kiss it, and you shudder. I like feeling how hard you are in my mouth. I can’t take it as deep as I think I can, but I try, again and again, wanting you so far inside.

V.

You start on your knees at the end of the bed after I have kicked you, hit you with my belt, after I told you to pick a number and you picked three, after you took more than you thought you could, after you crawled for me, after my hands in you at the edge when I said come on and shoot that load for your daddy, little faggot and I shove in, impatient and hard, to the back of your throat. You gag. I keep going. I hold you by the hair and work my hips so it goes in and out of your mouth. You gag again. I keep going. I stand over you and you rise up a little higher and I keep fucking your mouth. I wrap my hand around your throat. I pinch your nose closed and shove in. You look up at me, pleading, in a rare moment of eye contact. I don’t let up until I count to ten. I take my dick out and let you breathe and do it again. Count to ten. Sometimes I hold my breath with you, but I always let mine go before you do. I fist your hair and shove in deep. My hips shake against your mouth. Come on, little boy, take it, that’s right, that’s how I like it, fuck, yeah, give me that pretty little mouth, take it deeper, you can do better than that, fucker, do it, suck it down, yeah that’s right, nice. You stumble back a little and my fist holds you up.

Featured image courtesy of Crash Pad Series

Ask Mr. Sexsmith: Help! I want a decent pack ‘n play cock!

September 8, 2013  |  advice, reviews  |  2 Comments

coaching-buttonHello Sinclair,

My girlfriend and I have been looking for a decent pack ‘n’ play cock but can’t seem to find any that seem decent, and it’s hard to choose over the internet.

I read your 101 on packing cocks, which was useful and helped me know what to look for. Unfortunately, all your recommendations have been discontinued.

Do you have any more recent cocks you could recommend? (If it’s a UK website, that would be a huge plus as postage can be really expensive to get it over here.)

Thanks very much. Regards,
Sian

In recent years, there have been generally three cocks that are considered “pack and play”: The Silky (aka the Bendy), the Goodfella, and the Tantus VIP Supersoft. All of those are outlined in my Cock Confidence: Pack & Play article here.

However …

Not to be all dramatic about it, except that OMG IT IS JUST BASICALLY THE BEST THING THAT HAPPENED TO PACK AND PLAY COCKS EVER, a company called New York Toy Collective rolled onto the scene in 2011 and they are producing a brand new pack n play silicone cock called the Shilo.

And it is really, really good.

shilo

I think it’s so good, in fact, that I have teamed up with NYTC and I have a few of their cocks that I carry around with me and sell myself. That started because I kept RAVING about them in my workshops, but they weren’t in toy stores yet. Now, they’re in many stores, like Good Vibes and Babeland and Smitten Kitten. I don’t know if they’re in the UK yet, though (I don’t think so).

So, wait, backing up. Let me introduce you to the Shilo:

shilo2 shilo3

Made out of silicone, with a “proprietary core” (which apparently means “we can’t tell you what’s in it, but it has layers of silicone and other plastics”) that makes it bendable. BENDABLE. So you can tuck it down into your pants and then bend it back up straight and fuck with it well. I mean well.

It is 6 inches of insertable length, and 1.5 inches in girth. Which is a great size. A really really good size. A slightly larger than average size when it comes to cis penises, but perhaps slightly on the small side when it comes to strap-on cocks. Let me assure you that it is excellent for a) blow jobs, b) anal sex, and c) um all the other holes and fucking too. I often switch to a slightly (or massively) bigger cock when I want to really go at it for a while, but it is excellent for fucking. And because it’s very bendable, you can get it right to the g-spot or p-spot really easily.

Clean it like you’d clean any silicone: place in boiling water or on the top shelf of the dishwasher (no soap!) or wipe down with a 10% bleach solution.

Shilo is available in 4 skin tone colors, because more choices help you pick a shade that is closer to your skin tone. AND it now comes in blue/black, pink/blue and fierce pink!

So you can buy them online from various stores now, or from nytoycollective.com, or you can buy them right from ME. I’m selling them for $135, and I would much prefer to sell them in person, but I am willing to mail them to you. That’ll be $135 plus shipping (which varies depending on where you live. If you’re in the US, it’ll be flat rate priority mail).

Email me, [email protected], if you want one with the color and your address, and I will bill you via Paypal.

Or, of course, you can pick it up at your local queer feminist sex-positive sex toy store, which hopefully you already patronize frequently and support in many ways, or online from NY Toy Collective directly.

Under the Desk

Under the Desk

August 8, 2013  |  dirty stories  |  2 Comments

Disclaimer: This story includes some Daddy/boy lines and dirty cocksucking. Read it through at your own pleasure.

The first day I get back from the business trip, I call you into my office every hour on the hour for something. Water with ice and lemon. Print these documents and collate. But the requests get more interesting as the day goes by.

“Kneel for ten minutes in the corner.” I point without looking up after you enter the room. I don’t have to explain the parameters of kneeling, as you know the position (butt off your ankles, hands behind your back) and what you’re supposed to do (meditating on the concepts of submission and being owned). You’ve done this before, frequently. I don’t ask you to hold a piece of paper to the wall with your nose (this time).

You leave, and I call you back fifty minutes later. “Under the desk,” I tell you, my jeans already unzipped.

“That’s right. That’s good, baby.” And you choke me down and sputter thank you with big watery helpless eyes. I groan and push your head back down.

“Uh huh. I know you like it. You beg for it an thank me after, little one. But this isn’t for you. Just for me. Daddy needs this. Do it right. That’s good. Fuck. Good boy.” You start swelling up and moaning with each cool sucking breath. I know you want it. I know this is what you’re for, and so do you. I shove it in, feeling myself tighten, that delicious pressure building from deep.

“No boy, not for you. Don’t come, son. You better not. Little slave boy. I need you hard. Don’t fucking do it. Just suck it. I’m almost there. I need you to take a little more for me. Just … a little …” I groan and we feel the tremors move through us both. It would be easy for you to come when I do, but you hold yourself tight and let it pass over and around you.

When I’m done, you’ve swallowed every drop.

Your lips are swollen, throat still contracting and a little raw. You’re hard, but your boxers are dry. Good boy. I grab your package roughly as my breathing evens out. “Good boy. I like you like this. On edge all day. Hard for Daddy. Maybe I’ll let you, later.” I zip up my fly and kiss you, fisting your hair before turning back to my desk. “God, you’re good. Go get me a glass of water.”

And you do. Quickly, quietly, beaming all the way.

Featured image courtesy of Indie Porn Revolution

Power Blow Job Demo with Me & Kristen at Submit on Saturday Night in Brooklyn

September 28, 2012  |  miscellany  |  4 Comments

Have you ever been to the Submit play party? It’s a women and trans only play party monthly in Brooklyn at an undisclosed dungeon which has all sorts of great equipment, from cages to saint andrews crosses to a medical table to saw horses. There’s a social room and a bootblacking station and lots of gender-neutral bathrooms nooks and crannies if you want a little privacy and a swing and condoms and lube in every room.

I don’t go monthly, but I go often, and Kristen and I have had many great scenes there in the past (almost) four years we’ve been together. Red, the butch who runs it, is a good friend of mine and I love how they keep the space warm, welcoming, and monitored.

This week, Red asked if Kristen and I would do the demo. Usually there’s some sort of demo at 12:30am (last time we went there was a cutting demo, which was beautiful), and this time, we’ll be doing Power Blow Jobs. I don’t have a formal description for the demo, which will only be 20-30 minutes long, and more about a demonstration than about a formal class on technique, though we’ll both be piping in to talk about what we’re doing and give some tips. Or at least I will, Kristen will probably have her mouth full. Just kidding—her perspective is really valuable here and I’m looking forward to hearing what she has to say, actually, since often I’m the one talking about my experience.

It’s also been fun to, ahem, practice this week, leading up to it.

SUBMIT Party
Women & trans folks only
September 29th, Saturday, 10 – 3 am (doors close at 2 am)
$15 bucks before midnight, $20 after
RSVP on Fetlife & pre-cruise who’ll be there
for exact location call 718.789.4053 or email [email protected]

So hey, maybe we’ll see you there?

Ask Me Anything: How to Give Blow Jobs Without Feeling Stupid

August 4, 2011  |  advice  |  3 Comments

Newbie asked:

My partner and I are new to strap-on sex. We both love the idea of blowjobs, but I have no idea how to go about it without feeling supremely stupid. Help please! Could Kristen maybe give her perspective on learning to do it well?

Here’s Kristen’s answer:

How to suck butch cock: some advice.

Here’s the thing about sucking silicone cock: you have to pretend it’s real and remember that it’s not, both at the same time.

1. Pretending it’s real. This is most important: you have someone’s cock in your mouth, and you need to take care of it. Treat it like the beautiful and powerful instrument that it is, regardless of whether it came from a factory. Start slow. Put your lips on the tip. Lick around the head. Lick all the way down one side. Put it in your mouth for a minute, then take it out and lick it again. Eventually, once your mouth produces more saliva, you can suck it in deeper. Look up at your partner so they can see that you like it, so they can see the pleasure you’re giving them, even if they can’t exactly feel it. Act like you know what you’re doing, whether you actually do (hello, grateful college boys you might have practiced on) or you’re making it up as you go along. Vary your speed: don’t just repeat the same movement over and over, unless your partner gets into it and wants that. (Face-fucking is great, once you’ve gotten the hang of a basic blowjob.) Watch porn: even the free crappy stuff on Youporn is helpful here, because you can see facial expressions and technique and just mimic that.

2. Remembering it’s not. You’re not going to get physical indicators that tell you you’re doing a good job. You won’t be able to feel it getting harder (or limper) in your mouth, you’re not going to be able to feel when your partner is close to coming, you’re not going to know if you’re using your teeth too much. You have to do that work yourself: listen to your partner’s breathing, pay attention to their muscle contractions/their hands on your head/gasps of pleasure. You have to do the work of making it the most amazing blowjob they’ve ever gotten, even if they can’t feel every movement of your tongue. But that’s the fun part: you can do pretty much whatever you want to make that happen.

What do you think? Got any other advice for how to give blow jobs that don’t make you feel supremely stupid?

The Dirtiest Kristen Stories

December 13, 2009  |  dirty stories  |  1 Comment

Today is my one year anniversary of dating Kristen. There’s another post coming shortly about our year together, but while that’s coming, here are some of my favorite stories of her from this past year. Many of the most viewed posts on Sugarbutch are stories about Kristen, though to be honest we have had sex probably hundreds of times more than are written about on this site. Sometimes I feel guilty for not keeping you updated about all of the awesome fun we have in bed, but hey, I bet you would rather I was having this awesome fun than interrupting it in order to write about it, right?

Here are some of my – and your – favorites:

My Slutty Little Girl, April 2, 2009:

I pushed her back on the bed easily. Kneed her legs apart and pressed my cock up against her, bare, through my slacks. Kissed her, hard, felt her body under me.

I pulled back after a minute and lifted myself up. “Take my dick out,” I ordered softly.

She did. Unbuckled, unzipped, palmed it in her hand, let out a low satisfied hum of pleasure when she touched it. I tightened my harness, lowered myself back on top of her, kissed her neck. “I want to fuck your mouth.”

She arched in response, but whispered, “But I want you to fuck me.”

I almost laughed. Her desire handed to me on a silver platter, I took it gratefully. “No.”

“Please, baby, I need it, I want you to fuck my pussy.”

I do like the way she begs. I nearly acquiesced, but said “no” again, pulled back to shift to my knees on the bed. Took her hair in my fist as she bent in front of me. “Do it real pretty, and I’ll fuck you.”

(Read the entire story)

Wait For Me On Your Knees, January 29, 2009:

t the dining room table in her living room. She sits on my lap, kisses me. I pull her hair and move my mouth to her neck.

“Ohh yes, yes,” she breathes.

“Mmm, I like it when you say that. Say yes again,” I demand softly, next to her ear. She hears me, and says nothing. She bites her lip and looks right at me, which tells me she’s refusing to say it. Am I pushing her too far? Does she know – she must know – that saying yes is playing with consent, that I am warming her up for saying no. Does she feel pressed? Pressured? I study her face, wait for her to say it for what seems like minutes. “Say it,” I say again, low, with a grip on her hair, desire and dominance building in me. I pull back a little to get enough distance between us so I can hit her. I wonder how fast I’ll have to do it for her to not see it coming. I want her to be surprised.

Underneath her resistance, she’s got that tiny self-satisfied smirk on her face.

She is surprised. A quick, hard smack against her cheek. Then five, six, softer, in rapid succession, warming her up. And another, stronger. Another. Her whole head turns on impact. I don’t stop. Harder. I vary the rhythm and let her have a breath, a quiet moment in between, when she straightens her body and feels the sting.

This is the hardest I’ve slapped her, but I can feel the way she can take it, now, differently. She’s not scared or wincing but open and accepting, drinking in the sensation.

I stop. Pull back a little and watch her recover.

When she can, she whispers, “yes,” hand to her stinging cheek, eyes dark and smoky and submissive, that look, that look, that strong and active giving over that makes my knees weak (and oh I’m glad I’m sitting down).

I kiss her. Smooth her cheek with my fingertips, feel the warmth with my lips. “Good,” I say between kisses. “Good girl.”

(Read the entire thing)

“I’m Kind of … Insatiable.” (aka, our first date), December 15, 2008:

We lay together and I catch my breath, flex and stretch my fingers. I run my palm along her hips, the sides of her body, and she is all nerve endings and sensitive skin, writhing under my touch, rubbing her feet against the blanket on the bed. I could take her again. Could roll her into her back and listen to her breathe and moan.

I like the way her moaning becomes practically laughter as she gets closer. How she turns her head to the side and strains with every muscle like she’s trying to press all the edges of her, like she’s going to tear her way out of herself, la petite mort indeed.

She shifts next to me, I balance on my elbows on top of her again. I still have my tee shirt, my slacks, on. She’s stripped bare.

“Did I mention I’m kind of … insatiable?” she asks, a little embarrassed, a little shy, a little excited.

I grin. So am I.

My hand between her legs again, my mouth at her neck. “You’re wet.”

“Yes,” she breathes in my ear.

(Read the entire thing.)

Her Dirty Talk Got Me Off. Twice. March 31, 2009:

“Fuck my hole,” she whispered, “take me, fuck me hard, pound your big cock in me deep. I’m your slutty little girl.”

(Read the entire thing.)

Rocking Chair Blow Job, January 12, 2009:

“That’s right baby, suck it.”

I lean back again and my dick swells, puckers when she sucks hard and fast. She keeps it deep in her mouth and pulses and I cry out. Fuck.

I pull her up again and lean forward to kiss her, mouth swollen and red, opening for me as I keep my hand on the back of her head, on her cheek, on her jaw, holding her just where I want her, tongue in her mouth and she sucks that too. I reach my other hand down between her legs and push the thin fabric of her panties aside, enter her easily with two fingers and swirl them over her clit. She gasps.

“I like the way you suck me off,” I say, low, into her ear. “Your mouth feels so good. Oh god you’re so wet,” I trace my fingers along her lips and flick her clit, swollen, thick and sensitive. She moans.

“I want you to stand up, bend over, pull off your panties and hand them to me. Understand?” I pull back and remove my hand and she nods. “Do it then.”

She does.

(Read the entire thing.)

Hogtied, May 28, 2009:

After a minute I catch her by the hair. “You’re starting to squirm.” I say, low in her ear.

She breathes out, a tiny voice. “Uh huh.”

I’m still mostly clothed, but my cock is out, hard, stiff from my fly. I kneel behind her, push on her shoulderblades so she’s facedown on the bed again, and tease her pussy with the head of it. “Waiting to get fucked?”

“Yes,” she says in a small voice.

“What?”

“Yes.” Louder.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, I’m waiting to get fucked. Fuck me, please, please, put your cock in me, baby, ohhh … ” and I do, of course I do, when she asks so pretty like that.

(Read the entire thing.)

Am I forgetting your favorite Kristen story?

Review: the Famous Fleshlight

June 3, 2009  |  reviews  |  3 Comments

This episode of fucking with gender is brought to you by Babeland, one of the most fabulous feminist, woman-friendly, gender-friendly, and queer-friendly sex toy stores, and the (in)famous male sex toy: the Fleshlight.

Oh boy. Where do I begin?

the caramel color

the caramel color

I’ve never fully written up the Mr. Man dildo – or the ‘blow job cock,’ as I tend to think of it – so let me introduce you to that first. Because without Mr. Man, I have even less use for a Fleshlight.

Mr. Man is by Jollies, and is 8.5″ long (6″ insertable) and 1.75″ in diameter, with balls that hang in front of the base, in front of the harness’s o-ring. The first draft of this cock was not made to go into a harness (you may’ve seen some of those reviews from some other sexblog folks last summer), but let me assure you, this one can strap on just fine. It is dense silicone, hard plastic but high quality, not very squishy but sterilizable, and it comes in “realistic” colors of chocolate, caramel, and vanilla.

The real kicker is this: it has a shallow indentation at the base made to go over the wearer’s clit, and a hollow center, a narrow tube down the middle from tip to base, which means when sucked, the wearer can feel pressure at the bottom. Yes, you can actually get off from a blow job with this cock.

Kristen (ever the willing co-toy-reviewer, I so appreciate that about her) says it’s actually a lot of work to keep that much pressure going while working on this cock. We’ve played with it quite a bit (remember the Rocking Chair Blow Job? Featured this cock) but I don’t usually grab for it when I want to get blown – since I got the Bandit I tend to go for that one. But that doesn’t mean this cock still doesn’t hold a certain thrill – oh lord it does – and I would list it in my top 10 toys, for sure.

I personally have never come this way. But damn, it feels goooood to feel her mouth working on me. I’ve often wondered how I could perhaps get better at using the Mr. Man, so I could come more easily. And I think that’s where I first came to the idea of playing with a Fleshlight or another guy’s toy, to practice the feeling of pressure on my clit that the Mr. Man creates, and see if there are perhaps better positions, or angles, or something, that make it easier for me to get off.

fleshlightSo I jumped on the chance when Babeland offered it up.

First, some information (copied from Babeland’s site): The Fleshlight is 8 inches in length with a removable base for greater length or vibe insertion. Made of phthalate-free “Reel Feel Super Skin.” The diameter is variable, 1/2″ x 3-1/2″. (The “reel feel super skin” part means it is NOT sterilizable, but it tends to be a solo toy, so unless you’re sharing, that probably doesn’t matter. Just something to note.) The inner part – the pink part – comes totally out of the case and can be turned inside-out for cleaning, which should be with warm water. In order to keep it soft, like many of the other “real skin” toys, it should be dusted with cornstarch.

I know, I know, you want to know that good stuff. What did it feel like to stick my dick in it? Did it feel like fucking? Was it possible to get off?

I could definitely feel it – the Fleshlight did create enough suction to pull on the Mr. Man and feel it in my clit. But I didn’t get off that way, and after a while (a few minutes at least, my hand was getting awfully tired) I keep getting increasingly frustrated – why not just use my hand?! It feels like … the cock and the Fleshlight are just in the way. And my hand gets really fucken tired – it’s a pretty tight fit, as you can imagine my cock doesn’t have any give to it, really, so sometimes it’s really tight and a lot of work to get it in and out.

It really wasn’t the fireworks I was hoping for.

But then, I ran across Babeland’s How To Use The Fleshlight guide, and that helped. Read some reviews of it, too, and that made a difference. I soaked it in warm water before using, and I lubed it up a lot better than I had before, which made it more pliable and easier to fuck. I tried it out in as many positions as I could think of, and thrusting into it rather than moving it on my cock is better, but problematic, and still a bit uncomfortable.

I like the idea of having it mounted somewhere, or between the mattresses, or somewhere stationary, but uh, that’s kind of more like fucking a real person, I guess, which is why it feels better. I know it’s not like all of us can just go, “hm, do I want to fuck the Fleshlight, or should I fuck this attractive chick, here?” I assume there’d be no contest. But for me, the options are more like, okay, do I want to wait until I can fuck a real person strapped-on, and get off with my hands actually touching my clit, or do I want to fuck the Fleshlight? And that’s a pretty easy answer.

I haven’t written it off entirely, and there is something about the genderfuckery of it all that is very appealing – and hot. I think I’m kind of hard to get off, in general, and this doesn’t really seem to make it any easier, so while I might get occasionally inspired to get back to it and try something else, I don’t think I’ll use it regularly.

I’m so glad I got a chance to try it, though. I never would’ve known, and I always would’ve wondered.