Category Archives: Kink of the Week

Kink Of The Week: Voyeurism

Martin van Maële [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

Martin van Maële [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

I’ve admitted to being somewhat of an exhibitionist, by both writing and posting photos on my blog and other sites, as well as having some fun in public where others can potentially see. But am I a voyeur?

I love to hang out on social sites like Twitter, Facebook, and FetLife, as well as forums like AdultDVDTalk, just to name a few. I’m not the most active poster sexually on these sites (although that’s not to say I haven’t done my share), but I do like to “watch”: to read, to view pictures and postings, and to get turned on by what I see and read. Is it secretive? It is in the sense that others on the sites don’t know when or what I’m reading and getting turned on to, it is.

I watch a lot of porn. You’d probably be amazed just how much I watch, in part because I review an awful lot of DVDs, but I love watching porn online as well. Watching porn is a bit voyeuristic, as I’m watching someone getting naked and getting fucked, and they don’t know I’m watching their activities. It isn’t live sex (memorex, maybe?) but it’s something that I’m watching unbeknownst to them. It’s a huge turn on, as it sparks ideas and basically gets me horny as hell.

Neither of these, obviously, involves watching “in the flesh”, so to speak. I haven’t secretly watched anyone getting undressed or having sex. I watch my partner on occasion as he’s getting undressed or masturbating, and he may not know I’m watching at first, but he knows soon enough as I can’t help but join him. There were a few times in college, although that was listening to sex and not watching it… auditory voyeurism, I suppose. I had a pretty horny roommate, and her boyfriend’s dorm room was not as attractive as ours. Either that, or they didn’t care if I heard them fucking like cats on the other bed. Many a night I woke up to them squealing and moaning, and a few times I masturbated while listening to them, but most nights I either tried to go back to sleep or reached up and flipped the radio on to drown them out (and no, that didn’t make them stop – go figure).

While we don’t have play parties here, at least that I’ve ever been able to find, I would actually love to go to one and watch, whether or not it involved explicit sex. I’d consider that voyeuristic, even though it wouldn’t be secretive. It’d certainly be fun.

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Kink Of The Week: Gags

By Elmo Love (Flickr: Ferrachu. 382) [CC-BY-2.0], via Wikimedia Commons

By Elmo Love (Flickr: Ferrachu. 382) [CC-BY-2.0], via Wikimedia Commons

 I’m no stranger to gags. We started way back, before we were into anything very kinky (and even before we owned any sex toys), when I lived in the college dorms. I’m a bit loud when I cum – “bit loud” being rather an understatement, as I could probably wake the dead should they decide to walk the earth again, and college dorm walls are very, very thin. When I cum, I cum hard, and I cum loud. Background noise doesn’t do much to cover my shrieking either. I’ve had to lie, on many occasions, about the sounds coming from my room. Screams? No, that wasn’t me. That was the horror movie we were watching…yeah, right.

My partner used to cover my mouth with his hand to try and muffle me, but I could still scream pretty loud from behind it, and sometimes he wanted his hand free for other things. We’ve used many items, including wadded up panties, handkerchiefs, and his shirts. And then one day we got a gag. A real one, that is, with a bright red ball and leather straps. It muffled me a fair amount, but what it did best was make me incapable of speaking. I can mumble, I can drool, and I can scream into it all I want, while my partner has his way.

I like ball gags. I can bite into them a bit when I need to, and I think they look pretty hot. I’ve had other insertable gags as well, although I’ve never tried an inflatable one. The one thing, however, that my partner doesn’t care for much is that they leave my mouth inaccessible. I don’t care for this much either, as I love to suck his cock when I’m tied down (or tied up, depending on the position). This little problem made me get a ring gag. Not all ring gags are large enough to accommodate a cock, but I did find one that worked, and that I could actually wear for a time (I’m told I have a big mouth, but some of these gags really push my limit). My partner likes it because it keeps my mouth open for him to use when he wants, and if I’m cumming, I won’t (read can’t) bite down. They certainly make me drool a lot more.

I don’t find gags humiliating at all – to me they’re hot and erotic, particularly the ones I have. We don’t always use one, but when my partner brings one out or asks me to choose one to wear, it’s a sign that we’re going to have a rough and kinky night. It makes me wet with anticipation of what’s to come; whether I’m screaming against the ball in my mouth or around his cock down my throat, I like it.

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Kink Of The Week: Fellatio

Dessins de Martin van Maële. Illustration d'un poème de Paul Verlaine. 1907 ({{PD-1923}} – published before 1923 and public domain in the US)

Dessins de Martin van Maële. Illustration d’un poème de Paul Verlaine. 1907 ({{PD-1923}} – published before 1923 and public domain in the US)

Ah, fellatio. I’ve never met a man who didn’t like it. For this week’s Kink Of The Week, Jade posted a long list of euphemisms for one of my favorite sexual activities, many of which I’d never heard of. One in particular I’d heard of in a different context: Worship at the Altar has always been synonymous for me with Worshiping the Porcelain God, which I’ve been known to do on occasion when I’ve had way too much to drink and have to plant myself in front of the toilet. Of all the terms on the list, I like blow job the best, and that’s usually what I call it.

I’ve said I never met a man who didn’t like to get a blow job, but I’ve had plenty of friends who don’t like to give them. I’ve never really understood why (many of them didn’t enjoy receiving cunnilingus, either). It’s not something I ever feel I have to do, but it’s something I like to do. I like to do it a lot, and would rather not do without it. I have a bit of an oral fixation, and I’ve found nothing quite gets to my partner like seductively eating a banana or licking and sucking on a popsicle. The eye contact is everything.

I suppose fellatio might qualify as a kink, although I  don’t find blow jobs particularly kinky in and of themselves.  Quite honestly, I’ve always considered them just a normal, necessary – and even somewhat vanilla – pleasurable part of foreplay and sexual intimacy, and there are few things I’d rather do. I have a bit of a gag reflex but I’ve learned to suppress it, and I do enjoy deepthroating my partner. Not surprisingly, I like my porn to feature lots of blow jobs as well, whether it’s deepthroating, face fucking, or blow bangs.

Giving a blow job can be a submissive act, but it isn’t always. If I’m wearing an open-mouth gag so he can slide in and out of my mouth at will, it’s submissive. If he’s fucking my throat, and I’m expected to open wide and not gag, it’s submissive. But other times, when I’m free to tease the head of his cock with my tongue, and take him in my mouth at my own pace, I’m the one in control, and there’s nothing submissive about it.  I can lick him from the tip to the base of his shaft, making him quiver. I can lick and kiss his balls, and my breath on them can make his cock twitch in its hardness. I can use my hands to gently squeeze his balls as I take him all the way down my throat, feeling him grow in my mouth. I can go at my own pace, taking him to the edge and bringing him back, until he can’t hold back any more. I’ve got the control at those times, and I relish it.

Now I think I’ll stop writing about blow jobs and go give one to my partner…

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Kink of the Week: Leather

by Cpl. Matt Millham : Steer wrestler Luke Branquinho at the Pace Picante Pro Rodeo Chute Out in Las Vegas - public domain via Wikipedia Commons

by Cpl. Matt Millham : Steer wrestler Luke Branquinho at the Pace Picante Pro Rodeo Chute Out in Las Vegas – public domain via Wikimedia Commons

I’ve always loved leather, particularly the way it smells. This probably stems from growing up in the west, with saddle and western shops everywhere. You can smell it the minute you walk in – it’s a smell that’s hard to describe, but it’s fresh, and sensuous. I used to love to admire the saddles throughout the store, running my fingers over the intricate patterns in the leather and inhaling the scent. At the rodeos, the smell of leather was mixed with sweat, but it still smelled damn fine – did it have something to do with the rugged cowboys in their tight jeans, spurred boots, and hats? Could be. It’s certainly an association I still make with the scent of good leather, and I do find it arousing. Continue reading

Kink Of The Week: Collars

Spiked collar.

Spiked collar.

Ah, collars. I bought my first collar a while after we’d been experimenting with our more kinky side. We’d tried a few restraints, floggers, and paddles, even a tailed plug before the idea of a “real” collar came up. The one I bought was actually more like a choker: plain black leather, with a snap closure, simple and unadorned. I’ve had many since, most made of leather, and some glorious colors (particular favorites are a red set and a purple set that go well with matching cuffs and leash) mixed among the black. I even have some that label me as “bitch” or “slut.”

There’s something about wearing a collar that can really change my mindset.  The smell of the leather arouses me. The weight of the collar on my neck, with its slightly constrictive grip, causes me to hold my head higher. The look in my partner’s eyes when he sees me in one gives me a chill. And when a leash is attached, or his finger pulls me closer and controls my head by the D-ring, I know it’s time to behave accordingly.

I’ve only worn an actual collar in public once. I wore a spiked one to a concert, and it didn’t really garner any looks, as I mostly looked like a total Kiss groupie.  I wear a symbolic collar almost every day, though. My partner enjoys buying me jewelry, particularly necklaces with pendants on them, and while it’s not a true collar, when he puts it on me it says I’m taken, I’m owned, and I’m loved.

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