New eLust!

photo courtesy of Lila

Welcome to e[lust] - Your source for sexual intelligence and inspirations of lust from the smartest & sexiest bloggers! Whether you’re looking for hot steamy smut, thought-provoking opinions or expert information, you’re going to find it here. Want to be included in e[lust] #14? Start with the rules, check out the schedule in the site’s sidebar and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

~ This Week’s Top Three Posts ~

Answers with an Agenda 1- Fisting - Once you’ve gotten started using two fingers for a bit, then it is time to build until four fingers are sliding in and out of the person, and you are on your way.

Gagged - I think it’s got to be a combination… fingers sliding into your cunt, a merciless tease of your clit, and yes, it’s going to have to be, lining my cock up with your ass.

Mine - I feel you stir beneath me as I create a rhythm, your breathing changing growing more shallow as you slip from sleep into arousal. My eyes lift to yours as you smile and try to move your arms and then freeze.

~ e[lust] Editress ~

Puppet Master - When I was right next to them and they still did not notice, I put my lips to his ear (loud music, you know) and whispered “Touch her boobs, I bet she’d like that” and I backed up a foot.

~ Featured Post (Lilly’s Pick) ~

Shaping Some Limits - “If you ever did that to me, I promise you would never see me again”.Those words were spoken to me this past weekend by my pet during one of our overnight dates. The subject was face slapping.

See also: Pleasurists #77 for all your sex toy review needs.

All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Kink & Fetish

12 Licks of the Tawse

A Canvas for Pain

Best Friends

Fetish: What's Yours?

Needles and Cock Choking

One Couple's Journey into Kink, part 2

Pieces of Skin and Bone

Please hurt me unbearably, you fucking fucker!

Ssssh…

The Taskmaster's Whip

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

A (Short) Ode to Uncut Cocks

Compersive Vanillas?

How Fear can Lead to Understanding and Trust

I am not a rapist...

Mother's Day Gift

On threesomes

On Friendship

Playing Nice On The Swingset

Tyler and Holly Give Swing Clubs Another Chance

The Virgin in the Family/Do Not Enter

third person

Whacking For America

Erotic Writing

26 minutes

A Request For Help

Are you willing, Are You?

A Squirting Experience

All Dressed Up - The Party ....part 2

Beginning

Book Orgasm

Dhanurasana

Flesh for Fantasy

Filled

Getting Lost in the Forest

Guest Post: Truck

Go Habs Go Domme Style

hotel window

How Do I Find You Sexy?

I'll Be Waiting

Jim and Lisa

Keeping It In The Family

Mind the Gap

My Sluttiest Moment

My First Blowjob

Me, Myself & My Clit

Not Tonight Dear, I've Got A Headache (Part 2)

Pure, Unadulterated Desire

Predatory

rhythm

Something Different

slumber interruptis

therapy session #1

Wanton Wednesday- Fuck-toy

Wednesday Night Blues

Sex News, Interviews, Politics & Humor

A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

Eden Fantasys Newbie Help Guide

What the fuck, EdenFantasys?

Workshops and More at the ALCC

I Just Can't....

...seem to keep my hand out of my pants. Next time you're wankin' it, just remember there's a good chance that I'm wankin' it too.

Compersive Vanillas?

How do you explain S&M to a true vanilla? How do you make them understand what it means to submit or dominate, understand that it's not abuse if done properly, that it's not unhealthy?

I recently linked my musical collaborator/lover/former monogamous vanilla boyfriend (he's still pretty mono and VERY vanilla) to my last post, The Musicians, because I wanted him to read what I wrote about him. I explicitly warned him that if he chose to read the rest of my blog, he might not like what he saw. Of course, he chose to read it anyway. He became very upset reading about my kinky lifestyle. His main issue is that he's always believed that people who enjoy causing pain, as well as those who enjoy receiving it, are sick. He is afraid that I'm being degraded, and that I'm addicted to being "abused". It probably didn't help that I told him without this part of my life, I'd probably resort to drug abuse or self-inflicted pain, considering the amount of stress I've been under this year (my mother became very ill, and was hospitalized in January for about three months).

I'm relatively new to the lifestyle/scene, and I'm still in the process of figuring it out myself. I have no experience trying to explain the finer points of the kink mentality to anyone, especially a young vanilla. He loves me, and so far has been very good at accepting my new lifestyle (ie. active polyamory), but can't wrap his head around this. Actually, that's not quite right. He seems to intellectually understand why people might be into the things I'm into, but still feels that it is sick and wrong. He can't make his head and his heart come to agreement on this issue, and I can't really ask him to. I know this is something he will probably never be into, but I would really like him to be able to accept this part of me.

I love him and want him to be happy, and I believe he has the same wishes for me, but right now he is seeing Daddy as my abuser and enabler, not the magical person that is worthy of his favorite lady's affection. I would really like to rectify this. At this point I'm not sure if I can ever have the two in the same room, which sucks but I am sensitive to my collaborator's feelings, and he is trying harder than I expected and is capable of handling more than I ever thought he was. I am amazed everyday at how well he can do this with me, whatever it is we're doing. I would really like him to be somewhat compersive towards my relationship with Daddy, and I think that will only be possible when he has a better vantage point on the kink aspect. Any advice here?

The Musicians

I remember the first kiss. It was after the first dinner, in your tiny little room with the glass doors, on your tiny twin mattress, never quite big enough for the two of us; we had to become one to fit. I remember laying in your arms, nuzzling your neck, then lips brushed, lips locked, tongues came out to play. I blushed and pulled my head down. I couldn't look at you. I, who'd prided myself in my sexual evolution-revolution-liberation, was a virgin again. Bashful, unsure of myself, unsure of these tingling surges now shooting through my entire being. "Why didn't you kiss me in the hammock?" I can't quite remember your response, but it didn't matter. You were kissing me now. I remember the smell of that house, the smell of that tiny room. That first night you made me eggplant "parmesan" (it was vegan like you, savory and slightly sweet) and that room held the smell of it forever. It smelled like our bodies, too; quivering with need, pouncing with hunger. I ached for you. That tiny room, that barely could contain our bodies and our instruments, swelled with love and lust and newness and familiarity and ecstasy. Somehow your slender body, those strong and lanky skinny limbs enveloped my voluptuousness. I looked into those ice blue eyes, deep and wide with knowing and curiosity. You looked at me the way you do when we make music. We made love through music, but now we made music with our bodies, our thrusts and sighs.

Poke

Daddy sent me a text today, letting me know he'll be getting his nipples pierced. It brought back some painful and yummy memories. This is my breast, December 2009. Day after piercing.

Back in the ATX

Just got back to Austin. Sitting on the sofa that replaced the couch I lost my virginity on(we broke it :D), missing my Daddy already. My house is a mess. My body is tired, weak. My cunt and ass are sore. I probably should've slept more and been abused less this week, but I love the way Daddy hurts me.

This is the weekend to get "back into the swing of things". I have a laundry list of projects (including finishing the Beltane post) and social obligations. I have band practice for the first time in months. I have to do online defensive driving. I need to start planning for Flipside. I need to start planning for Daddy moving here. I need to get some art up on Etsy. And I need to center myself, realign my chakras. So much creativity, so little time. If only I didn't need sleep.

From the Back

A lazy photo for a lazy Thursday. Trying to pack up and get on with my life.

Leaving

For the past 4 months, I've been stuck in a strange town taking care of family stuff. I was completely uprooted from my life, my job, my education, and set down in Houston, Tx, a place I thought to be indisputably uncool. Just over a month ago, all that changed. I found a home here. I found great people, great places to hang out, and great love. I found love so great I've changed the way I look at life. I've opened up to being the person I want to be. I've discovered it's ok to be polyamorous, it's ok to be "sexually liberated", it's ok to be as kinky as I'd like to be. It's also ok to want to change the world.

I'm leaving tomorrow. I'm heading home to a town that I adore, that has cradled me from birth. I'll be heading back to friends who know and love me for who I am, even if it all seems a little odd to them. But a city that once seemed to me an oasis for us "odd ducks", now looks a bit saccharine and fake. The Disneyland for Texas hippies. It's been lovely to be surrounded by people that aren't part of "the scene", whatever that scene may be. Austin is full of the "hipper-than-thou", and everyone's pretty much cooler-than-me.

It's not so much that my perception of Austin has changed in the past months, but that it no longer holds my heart. My heart will remain inside the loop with the man who was extracted from me by a rogue lightning bolt. The circumstances that brought me to Houston were not happy, but I'm glad I was here for him to find me. I thank him everyday for finding me.

Thank you Daddy, for finding me when I didn't know I needed to be found. Thank you for bringing things out in me that I didn't know were there, and also for bring out the things I was hiding because they were "just too weird". Thank you for loving me, all of me, my Dominant side as well as my submissive side, the big me as well as the little me and the in between me, the goddess in me as well as the fallible human. Thank you for sharing me with other lovers. Thank you for reassuring me when I get jealous of your others(fallible poly). Thank you for letting me be completely open and honest with my feelings, about our relationships and my relationship to the world. Thank you for sharing your snuff fantasies with me. Thank you for beating the shit out of me because I needed you to. Thank you for beating me just because you enjoy watching me squirm. Thank you for showing me how good it feels to bring a man to his knees. Thank you for serving me, and allowing me to serve you.

Thank you for bravely loving me, for being as stupid over me as I get over you. Thank you for planning with me, even when it gets scary. Thank you for sharing anarchocommunist ideals. Thank you for wanting to change the world with me. Thank you for holding me when everything's too big and scary. Thank you for feeding me bunny-shaped pasta while I cuddle with my Bippo. Thank you for being Daddy in name and behavior. Thank you for spanking me when I'm being a brat. Thank you for loving the brat in me as well as the little angel(she's really there, I promise!).

I'm sad to go without you. We've grown so close in so little time, and it doesn't seem fair to be ripped away from you already. I've finally really been able to get in touch with my little, and now she's venturing out into the world on her own. But I know in my heart of hearts that this is just the first big step on our evolutionary path. I'm digging a big hole between us, so that we can lay the foundation and start building our lives together. I can't wait to build our lives together.

I love you Daddy. I love you Houston friends.

Beltane Hangover pt.1

Hi, my name is Trouble. I'm a 20 year old polyamorous pansexual. I am completely in love with my partner, my "Daddy", I have several lovers I see regularly, and I'm not afraid of a one night stand. I practice safe sex always and I'll try anything twice. I'm an artist, a writer, and a musician. This is my sex blog.

Saturday was Beltane(MayDay). This is one of the traditional Pagan fertility holidays. Think naked girls dancing around the Maypole, sex in the fields, etc. Unfortunately I spent most of the day cooped up inside, but I did make it out to a little gathering at a friend's house around 2a.m. Sunday morning.

I haven't been able to be on the social scene as much as I'd like to lately, so I was very excited for this party. I got all dressed up like a little nymph in a gauzy miniskirt and a scarf-top. I covered myself in glitter, and called it a masterpiece. Everyone loves the girl spreading raver scabies. Daddy was already at the party with his other girlfriend, and he met me at the door. Apparently I'd missed the near-miss orgy, and excepting a couple naked guys most of the party was clothed and sitting around the television. I, of course, made a beeline for the smoke and alcohol, and stumbled into a sweet little soldier with a flask full of scotch. Here's where the raver scabies come in handy. He offers me a drink, I "glitter" him by rubbing the entire front of my body against his in a very friendly hug. At this point I had him bagged. After a couple hours of socializing and some encouragement from Daddy, I suggested that Sgt. Hottie accompany me to the "cuddle tent" set up in the back yard (I wasn't sure whether his oral attacks on my nipple rings were appropriate in the main hangout space).

We made our way out back, and after a brief condom search, we were all over each other. He was not much taller than me, but much stronger, which makes wrestling-style foreplay oh so much fun. He had me pinned beneath him, lifted me up and had me braced in his lap, forced me on top of him, and so on. I was unfortunately hosting Aunt Flo that weekend, and I was a bit worried about bleeding all over the tent, so I gave him permission to throat fuck me. I love uncircumcised cock. I really do. There's just something so excited about pulling back the sleeve of foreskin to find a smooth and swollen tip, already moist(or dripping) with his own juices. He shoved his cock as far as I could take it. I don't remember being able to breathe, but his hands around my throat might've been part of the problem. I don't remember how long he ravaged my facehole, but I became extremely wet and very frustrated. So frustrated, in fact, that I uttered the words that only come from the mouths of stupidly aroused masochists. "I want your cock in my ass. Please, rape my ass."

After forcing me to beg a few more times, he had me turned around, skirt up, panties around my knees and was forcing his way in. Of course stupid drunk girl was backing up into him, welcoming his tool of torture. He was not gentle. He knew what he was doing, and I discovered during our post-coital cuddling, he knew how to take it too. But he was not gentle. He had me on my knees moaning, almost in tears. He fucked me hard and fast, slamming into my tight little asshole with reckless abandon.

To be continued.....