Resolutions, Day 60

60! 60 days of these, my goodness. I know most of them have been pretty not-great – mostly unkinky, or complainy, or just generally not that interesting… But nobody can deny that I have in fact written sixty different things. The quality has certainly decreased from when I was writing weekly, mind. I suppose, thinking about it, they don’t actually have to be separate entries – I could spend half an hour a day on writing one longer post instead of seven shitty little ones, for instance. Something to think about going forward, I suppose.

So, I tweeted out something earlier about getting facefucked – you know, in that position where the slut lies on their back on the bed, with their head hanging over the side? Mouth wide open, as if to invite any passing Domme to just shove their strap in there and fuck to their heart’s content? It just seems like it would be a lovely time, imo. I haven’t done any throat training for quite some time now – but I still fondly remember the feeling of being filled from the inside, gagging slightly around something thick and solid, more important than air because it’s what you want. I feel like I can still recall the sensation of trying to deepthroat my first strap-on, when I had the in-person session in that anonymous motel.

In truth, there were a lot of feelings going on there. There was the nervousness of actually being naked and collared, on my knees before a Domme, in-person – the anticipation of seeing her strap presented before me – the realisation that I would have to start sucking it myself. The slight panic when I gagged a little and instinctively went to back away – only to feel her hand on the back of my head, keeping me in place, impaled on her cock. But it was more than just panic, though. That feeling of truly, genuinely, physically having no control over what was happening to me – I don’t think I’ll ever forget that. I was still tied up at this point, if you’ll recall – my hands safely secured out of the way behind my back. I couldn’t push myself away – couldn’t do much of anything, if she didn’t want me to. And it was so, so, thrilling. Mistress Charlotte was right when she said the memories of that day would last a long time – it’s still practically as vivid as ever in my head.

It was a similar sensation when I was face down on the bed, ass presented high in the air for her to fuck with a dildo. But it’s the deepthroat that stands out most in my memory. I think there’s a few reasons – mostly probably that I think I prefer oral play to anal? It’s much easier to be in the mood for – anal usually requires some prep, and even then sometimes my body just won’t respond well to it. It’s also possibly that the “choking on her strap” segment was on, well, her strap, while the facedown fucking was by hand, with various toys. I understand why she did it that way, and I’m totally fine with it because that’s what works best for her, but I feel like it missed out on some of the… closeness, I suppose.

Not a big deal, though! There’s always next time. Clearly the best solution is for me to schedule a double domme session and get myself spitroasted – filled with rubber dick on both ends, and used for the amusement of powerful women. Now THAT’S the dream. Thanks for reading.

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