Posts Tagged ‘breast play’
I was being a jerk. Not sure the details are all that important, I just got up on the wrong side of the bed and everything was bothering me and it was 95 degrees outside and I was mad at the world. I made the mistake of thinking that running errands in Manhattan would make me feel better. Get some things done, knock things off the to do list. Did I forget that I don’t deal with heat well? (Can I stop complaining about the heat already?)
Plus, the errands were unsuccessful. I’m only a recent Mac owner, my MacBook is about a year old, and I’ve never had to go into the Apple Store for service before. My power cord shorted out over the weekend (anybody out there have an extra one lying around? Will trade) and I didn’t know I needed an appointment at the Genius Bar, so i just went in. Plus, my iPhone 4G, which replaced my ancient 3G since I broke the screen when I dropped it on a playground in Alaska, is getting a terrible signal and I’d just heard about the booster cases Apple is giving to 4G owners. Of course, you have to do that on the website, not at the store, and they’re unavailable/out of stock. We shall see how that goes.
Combine my disappointment, my not working cell phone, my powerless laptop, with the heat, not to mention the crowds of Soho and then Union Square, and I was ready for a drink.
What I’m saying is, I was spending all my energy trying to keep it together as Kristen and I shopped for peaches and tomatoes at the Farmer’s Market.
By the time we got home I’d picked a fight, then started to backpedal out of it. We were both upset. I was being a jerk. I couldn’t seem to calm myself down or shake this “everything sucks” mood. I apologized; I knew I was off, and I said so. I tried to state what I needed, I tried to remove myself to give myself time to calm down. I could have done better. I gave up and took a nap.
Hours later I woke up a little reset, Kristen and I had a decent evening, dinner and a movie, sitting close on the couch, being more careful with each other.
Later still, after we got in bed, I pulled her close as we snuggled in together and kissed her, a physical apology for my distance that I was trying to make up for with closeness. I wanted to be closer still, feel her everywhere, make it up to her, be inside her. I still felt fragile and a little thin, but the want was growing as we kissed. I got flashes of my forearm across her chest, holding her down. Adding some extra bruises to the two on her inner thighs, which are blooming nicely. I saw flashes of fucking her fast and hard and furious and it made me hot, eager.
I kissed her again, let my hands slip under her green tank top, one fingertip into the top of her undies. She sighed, kissed me back, hands in my hair, and I felt myself melt a little into her.
“Play with me?” I asked, quiet, our mouths still nearly touching.
Her whole body responded with a flush of heat that rippled through her. “Of course baby. What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know.” C’mon, I chided myself. Say something. “I feel the instinct to be mean. But I don’t know if I can do that. I don’t know if that’d feel good, after how I treated you today.”
“You could be my mean Daddy. I like it when you do that. It would be okay.”
I was quiet. Not sure it was a good idea. I’d rather not be so torn. I’d been torn all day.
“Or you could be small,” she whispered close to my ear, stroking my hair.
Even the words felt like a relief. I nodded. “Just … take care of me for a while?” She nodded back and kissed me again, a little more commanding than usual. Her lips were sweet, tongue soft, warm, and I started to get lost in the kiss, in the feel of her next to me, touching me.
“Give me your hand,” she said, and took it up and under her shirt, to her breast, firm and round and soft in my palm. I ran my fingers over her nipple like it was a fence I was walking by, brushing it as it grew more stiff, then pinching it hard, and the arch of her back made the growl return to my stomach. Strength. Power. Maybe I need some of that. She squirmed and let out a little cry as I twisted and pulled, then took a huge handful and kissed her.
I like her nipples in my mouth. Supple and soft. I have never been, as they say, a “breast man,” never quite got it like others seem to. Don’t get me wrong, I feel and play and suck and pinch, especially when I know that’s what she likes, but maybe it’s because my own aren’t very sensitive that I didn’t used to derive a lot of my own pleasure from playing with them. Recently, though, that’s been different. (Have I written about this before?)
I was starting to salivate, to get that itch for that feeling of smallness and sucking, when she said, “Will you suck on my tities, sweet boy?” I smiled, then bit my lip to hide it. Pushed her shirt up farther and took my arm out from under her neck, lying back down over hers, a little bit of role reversal, allowing her to give me some needed comfort for perhaps the first time that day.
I lowered my mouth down to her nipple, rested my head on her arm and against her chest as her hands pulled my head closer, and sighed. Her areola puckered in my mouth, against my tongue. Her skin was sweet with that salty wisp of sweat and summer. I sucked her in deeper and used my teeth to hold her there. She gasped. I flicked my tongue, then widened it and lapped at her nipple, thick long strokes over and over.
“Ohh that’s good … that feels so good.”
I let myself get lost in the sucking. Let it feel like nourishment, let myself be filled. I pictured energy pouring out of her, down my throat, pooling in my belly, and kept drinking it in.
After a minute I shifted, brought my mouth slowly off and over to the other, brought my weight slightly over her so I could free up my right hand. I cupped her tits and kept the angle in my mouth, then dragged my hand down her stomach and hips to her thighs, which she easily parted, a nonverbal request. I slid my hand into her panties and found her wet, dipped my fingers in slow.
I lifted my mouth and looked up at her. “May I?”
“Yes, mmm yes,” she murmured, leaning back into the bed and pressing her cunt toward my hand.
I wet my fingertips and traced her lips around her clit, flicked it, stroked it. Bit at her nipple. It didn’t take long; she started writhing, breathing, “Oh that’s good, that’s my good boy, my good boy,” and came, shuddering against me.
I kissed her mouth again and she stroked my neck, held me to her. “That felt good baby.”
“I like to feel you do that. Like to touch you.”
“You made me all wet, you made me feel so good.” She kissed me again. “Suck my nipples again, sweet boy?”
I lowered my mouth again, settled next to her as she kept me cradled.
“Did that make your cock all hard?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said quietly, not looking up. “A little.”
“Did that make you want to touch it.”
I murmured something between an “um” and a “mm.” Hesitant and feeling shy. That boy-feeling of exposure, vulnerability; you can see how much I want this by the strain against my zipper, the uncomfortable hardness, the pressure.
Of course, I don’t really have that. But there are moments, like when she starts talking about it, that this feeling comes up, and this is the best I can do to explain it.
“Touch it,” she said quietly. “Touch it for me. Tell me how it feels.” She knew I wasn’t packing. She meant my cock, my other cock, my little cock I sometimes call it, my dick, my clit.
I reached down to feel under the boxers I’d pulled on to sleep in, found my cunt wet and lips swollen, my clit—my cock—hard and slick. It felt good to touch. Like I had permission, like I could take my time. Like relief from the tension that had mounted in my body during my bad mood all day. Like release.
I dragged my fingers along lazily for a minute, touching, relaxing, with a massaging touch, building arousal. I thought she might ask me to go get my big cock, so I didn’t want to come quickly. Let’s let it build.
“How does it feel?” she asked into my hair, arms still wrapped around me.
“It feels good. Hard. Thick and big.”
“Mmm. I like it when it gets hard and big. Then you put it inside me, don’t you, my sweet boy? You like to put it in my pussy.”
Quickly, the flash of pushing my cock into her, her tight resistance, the way she opens up and wraps around me was in my head. My cock pulsed harder. I could barely respond, her nipples still in my mouth, still needing the distraction and permission of sucking.
I started rubbing my
clit cock faster, jerking it a little, keeping my fingertips wet. My muscles got harder, too, contracting in my thighs and ass and stomach, starting to clench down and press into my hand. My knees straightening out, toes curling, then knees opening out to the side, legs splayed.
I let it build until I was almost ready to come and then backed off, took my hand away for a second, concentrated on sucking at her tits again, a little harder, a little deeper into my mouth, tonguing her nipples and swallowing as I breathed and concentrated on the heat building between my legs.
Only a quick break, a quick moment before I reached back down and started rubbing my clit again. Moaning through my full mouth, pressing myself against her, her arms pulling me toward her chest and keeping me close to her as I got closer, closer. Stroking up and down and, if I was being really honest, I would tell you I was thinking about my other cock, my big cock, the go-to one I usually use, and whose weight I miss hanging from my hips if I don’t wear it a few times a week. The girth of it in my hand, what it’s like to slip over the head and feel the ridges, feel its tip against my palm. What it’s like to slide inside of her.
More noise from my mouth. Growls and grunts and heavy breathing and convulsions as my chest and stomach contracted.
“Are you getting closer, sweet boy? Come for me. Come on, jerk that cock for me.”
I kept my fingers low and felt the tension hard and swollen under my fingers. Just a couple more strokes, just—there—just—closer, my fingers in fierce rhythm getting harder, quicker, as fast as I could go, “Yeah, yeah, fuck,” I started trying to exhale more, I’m holding my breath, pushing my hips up to meet my strokes.
“That’s good baby, that’s so good,” she keeps murmuring.
I’m ready and it burst out of me as I pulsed and thrusted, stroking fast and hard once more, twice, three times, my body convulsing in the microseconds between, shuddering as the shock waves faded, gasping as I calmed and tried to keep letting go, still feeling ripples of release through my whole body. I realized her nipple was still in my mouth, loosely held so I could suck in air, and I let up to take a full breath, let it out slow. Still shuddering. Still tingly all over. And as I relaxed I released even more, letting something out, some tension I’d been holding on to, something bigger, who knows what, something stored deep in my muscles, and tears started rolling down my face and toward my ears, I started gulping, soft sobs between breaths. Just a few before it passed, faded, and my breath smoothed.
I turned toward her again and sighed, rested against her, kissed her. I was spent. It didn’t take long to fall asleep (in a slightly wider embrace, still affected by the heat).
I woke the next morning feeling scrubbed clean, not a trace of that bad mood left in my system, pulled her close, smelled her skin, felt her shoulder with my cheek. Everything is much better when I remember how lucky I am to wake up with this beautiful girl every day.
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A while back Kristen decided she’d like to try some different nipple clamps. I had one set, a very basic tweezer set, which she liked to wear but which slipped off fairly easily.
I started looking into other options and whoa there are a lot of different types. I didn’t even know where to begin.
So I approached Eden Fantasys and we picked seven different clamps from their wide selection for me to review, compare, and contrast. Kristen & I have needed about a month to get through all of them, but at this point the winners are clear.
As I go over the clamps I reviewed and some other clamps which are available, you might notice that most of these clamps are made by Spartacus Enterprise. I didn’t choose them on purpose, though I do know that their products are generally very high quality. They make great leather goods, too.
My rule is, if I can’t put the nipple clamp on my finger (usually my pinky finger, as they usually don’t have wide enough opening to get other fingers into), I won’t put it on my nipple. So two of them were unfortunately ruled out right away:The W-shaped Endurance Clamps are the worst here. They are two overlapping Us, and they meet in the center being held together by tension, as if they do not line up they’ll pop open. Not sure how to describe that exactly. They’re actually very difficult to open! The problem is, the metal that lines up is kind of twisted, and it is so damn painful to even attempt to release the pressure with my finger – my thumb – inside the clamp, I can’t even imagine trying it on a nipple. This would only be for people into EXTREME nipple sensation … and even so, there are others that pinch just as hard that aren’t as poorly made. The other pair, also called Endurance Clamps, though they are higher quality, are also way too strong to be used. It just pinches so hard that I can’t bear to keep it on my pinky finger for more than the briefest moment. No way. I didn’t try these on any nipples, my own or Kristen’s.
Next, we’ve got some decent clamps, which work well, but have some flaws.The Tit Clamps by Spartacus have a handsome thick chain and no black plastic caps on the end of the clamps, which makes them shiny and quite nice to look at. I thought they’d be too strong, but actually they’re quite nice. I like how they look and they’re quite comfortable. The Butterfly Clamps were highly recommended to me from various folks on Twitter when I started asking around about nipple clamps, and from what I’ve read the pinching actually gets tighter when they’re pulled on because of the way they’re constructed. That seems like a great idea! But in actuality, they are big and kind of bulky, not nearly as hot as they seem (though I’ve seen some fetish photographs which use them and they are perfectly lovely … perhaps they’re just too big for Kristen’s rather small breasts and nipples in particular?), and they slip off pretty easily. The tension isn’t quite tight enough and the pads which actually go on the nipple are circular and rather small, so they just don’t quite fit right. Seems like for the right person, these would be great, but they weren’t quite right for me. The Spartacus Adjustable Clamps, the square-ish ones, are pretty simple and straightforward. Very adjustable, though a little bit slippery because they don’t get quite as tight as the others. The adjustability means that they’ll fit larger nipples which are very sensitive and don’t need a lot of stimulation, but these wouldn’t be great for smaller nipples that want tons of pinching.
What the hell: Last but not least, I threw in a couple nipple clamps with attachments because I thought they might be fun. The first, the Y Style with Clit Clamp by Spartacus, is a basic tweezer nipple clamp with an extra tweezer intended to go down and pinch the wearer’s clit. The basic tweezer without the clit clamp is good for beginner nipples especially, and this is the only type of clamp I had before this big ol’ review try-out. Kristen and I couldn’t really get the clit part to work, it either pinched painfully or it slipped right off. We keep saying we need to practice with this some more, but we already tried twice and were disappointed, so I kind of doubt we’ll go back to it again. I wonder if this other Y-Style with Clit Clamp, which are adjustable and not tweezers, would be easier to use on the clit? I might have to get a set of these to try.
The biggest surprise was the Collar with clamps by Spartacus. Kristen doesn’t like her neck restrained and actually actively dislikes choking in porns, usually, so I knew this would be a bit of a stretch, and that she might not even want to try it, but I asked for it anyway because I think it’s damn hot. I know collaring means lots of things in BDSM scenes, but I was hoping Kristen would be willing to try it once, and from all her love of bondage and restriction I suspected that she would like the feeling of restraint.
And she did. We both liked the ways that the clamps fall and curve under her breasts and create this nice curl of chain, the visual is beautiful. I like to be able to pull on the chain and both pull her neck and her nipples. It’s incredibly hot when she wears it around without a shirt. The collar with clamps is the one we’ve gone back to most often, and it’s introduced the collar to us as an option, and as a potential symbol, something that I didn’t expect at all. We haven’t explored this in too much detail yet, but I can tell we both like it.
The clamps that came with the collar are probably the type I would most recommend – what they call the bull nose type, fully adjustable with a rubber tip to protect the nipple from the metal. These are available in clamps that do not include a collar, too.
There are plenty of other nipple clamps out there, but these cover most of the basic types. If I missed one or two, let me know! I’ll still be on the lookout for types I haven’t tried.