Archive for January, 2009

I’ve been in the alternative sex lifestyle thing for a while, and i have observed much and learned even more. I’ve also discovered a lot about myself — one salient fact of which is that I am polyamorous.

Wikipedia defines polyamory as follows:

Polyamory (from Greek πολυ [poly, meaning many or several] and Latin amor [literally “love”]) is the desire, practice, or acceptance of having more than one loving, intimate relationship at a time with the full knowledge and consent of everyone involved. The term polyamory is sometimes abbreviated to poly, and is sometimes described as consensual, ethical, or responsible non-monogamy. The word is sometimes used more broadly to refer to relationships that are not sexually exclusive, though there is disagreement on how broadly it applies.

I added the emphasis in the above paragraph to the statements which jumped out at me. The latter is what polyamory had meant to me, while i was non-exclusively involved with more than one relationship at a time — but, while making no secret of my non-exclusivity, i also refrained from informing any of my partners of who or how many others i was being non-exclusive with.

If that makes any sense.

I added the emphasis on the former phrase because that really is how polyamory *should* be.  In this elegant slut’s humble opinion, anyway. I say this not from some lofty, preachy, know-it-all height of moral high ground; rather because it is into this kind of polyamorous situation that i have tumbled and landed smiling, on a bed of roses.

Naked. 🙂

I met someone — if you’re read my last couple of posts, you’ll have figured this out all by yourselves. (Because, gentle reader, I love you not merely for the fact that you validate my very existence by reading my li’l ol’ blog, but also because you are independently intelligent and can figure stuff out.)

I met Purrrrvert, as he refers to himself as in the last few comments, through a social networking site where kinksters meet, greet and get down-and-dirty. He describes himself as dominant and polyamorous in his profile, and i knew of at least one person to whom he was (is) romantically attached — although i know of this because i knew of her before I “met” him.

Fast-forward to a couple of months later. After talking for a while, and then flirting  a bit the question of moving beyond this point arose. A meeting was discussed — an ordinary, all-above-board, innocent cup of coffee meeting. Which duly happened. Because how would we know if we wanted things to progress yet further if we hadn’t had the opportunity to look deeply into each other’s eyes and catch a glimpse of the other’s soul? Hmm?

So from cup of coffee, innocent-or-no, we then progressed to the next stage. And this is what prompted the latter bolding in the paragraph above. He then made it clear that beyond a hug, nothing further would happen between us until he had spoken to his wife (Sub 1) and his other submissive partner (Sub 2, the woman I already knew), and find out how they felt about it.

When he told me this, I stared at him incredulously, my jaw slightly open. I may have even  dribbled a little. I was shocked. Actually, to be more accurate, I was gobsmacked.

My experience to date was of two kinds of situations — one experienced first-hand and one experienced in a more voyeuristic manner.

The first: when i was with my former Dom, he was very open about the fact that he was polyamorous, but made it patently clear that this was the maximum information to which I was to be privy. Not who. Not when. Just the fact that I was one of many. Being inexperienced and green as I was, I thought that this was “par for the course” , and “the right way to be a submissive”.

I was wrong.

The second: there are many “polyamorous” relationships online about which i read. Several of the most notable of which were situations where, again, the male in the equation made no secret of the fact that he was not monogamous, but did not discuss or get approval from any of his partners regarding the others. It caused ill-feeling and jealousy and inspired mean-spirited bordering-upon-insane behaviour between some of the “polyamours”.

I do not judge nor do I cast apersions — I merely note. It is not the sort of situation in which i would want to be — not from either side.

I preferred this situation, the one I was in, theoretically at least. I just had no practical experience thereof, first or second-hand. In short, I was a little unsure of how to proceed — especially given that it would be open and known about by all concerned. To be fair to Purrrrvert, the numbering system is merely for dentifying purposes — as he says, so correctly “the only indivisible element is time — and when problems arise they are usually associated with that. But communication is the key.”

My first concern was that in no way did i wish to hurt or offend Sub 2, who, as I already said, I had known before I knew Purrrrvert, by making her feel as though I were encroaching on her territory or anything like that. Which was, I believe, a valid worry.

My second concern was that I was nobody’s tertiary anything — which was one of the first issues I raised with him.

“Do you… um… expect me to be… um… exclusive?” I asked, knowing full-well that were the forthcoming answer to be yes, my next sentence would end the aforementioned innocent cup of coffee, and that friendship was all that was our future destiny.

No chameleon, I.

Note: It wasn’t that I necessarily wanted to be with anyone else. I just wanted to be sure that my options were open, and i wouldn’t find myself swept away and feeling trapped.

But I digress.

He smiled — a smile that I have since learned can turn from sweet to evil in a heartbeat, not to mention desirous and lusty.

“No, not at all, Hey — I don’t even expect Sub 2 to be exclusive. I would have absolutely no right to do such a thing.”

Hurdle number one overcome. Next!

Afterwards, we sat in his car, still talking. It was difficult to stop. We just got on so well.

“So you’ll speak to them… when?”

“Well, I have initially spoken to Sub 1.”


Blue eyes twinkled at me over his glasses.

“She said to have fun, and tell her all about it.”

“What about Sub 2?”

He looked me in the eye.

“I really don’t know what she’ll say. I suppose we’ll know sooner rather than later. I’ll see her the day after tomorrow, and we’ll talk then.”

“And if she says no?”

“Then it’s no.”

And so began the wait.

To be continued….

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“You will write to me, won’t you?” he says, as he turns to me just before we part company.
“Er, like.. duh. ” I reply, somewhat inelegantly, belying my self-imposed titular comportment.
“No, what I mean is, i want you to write something specific.”
I raise a curious eyebrow, and gesture that he should elaborate.
“I want to know what made you think “Oooh, yes, more of this, more, more!” and what made you think “No, no, stop, no, don’t do that again.”
Again with the single curious eyebrow. “Was it not obvious?”
“Mostly, but i want you to be specific. There was a wealth of toys and playthings involved — which were better for you and which less so?”
Toys and playthings. I’ll say. I was the biggest of the playthings, even he would be the first to admit this. But it would be less an admission — implying confessional or sinful revelation; more a proud declamation. He is a self-confessed feline, and as such likes to have things to play with.
Playthings. Yes. That would be me.
It’s the sports bag i notice first. It is, frankly, huge, and is also a surprising colour.
“You said it was your big black bag of tricks! That’s not black, that’s khaki!”
“That’s one way to know if someone has met me — ask them what the colour of my big black bag is…!”
Out of said bag come a number of hiking pouches, each filled with a wide variety of implements of torture and pleasure, depending on your viewpoint from where you sit on the kink-o-meter. To say I was speechless is understating it to a huge effect. My eyes were like saucers, and my jaw hung open. Not so much at the level of evility and kink arrayed before me, but at the quantity. The best i could manage was a feeble “Fu-u-uck.”
He then took out a large halloween party carrier, shaped like a cat, naturellement — rawrrrr…. and told me to select what i wanted to play with today, and to put the items in there.
The items began to be shown to me, in order of how they’d fallen out of the sports bag. There were beaters, floggers, scrapers, strokers, pinchers, restraints and a remarkably wide variety of pervertibles. I recognised a large fish slice, and a silicon oven-glove in the shape of a dog from a bag containing kitchen-inspired instruments of kink — and then i saw something that looked mighty familiar.
“Hey, I have that very spatula! Except, of course, i actually use it when i cook.”
He looked me straight in the eye, almost snorting in an effort to restrain the bubbling mirth.
“You pervert.”
I laughed as hard as he did, and gasped. “I’m *so* blogging that.”
It took a lot longer than I’d anticipated* to set things up, but eventually i found myself lying on the bed, arms akimbo and restrained, one to the side and one to my ankle, using two types of leather wrist cuffs (one fur-lined intended for suspension use; very pretty and tactile), and legs — naturally — apart.
I must just take a moment to explain something here. Such a position is one that a person would only ever find themselves in consensually. It’s very easy to feel exposed and vulnerable. I was lucky enough to feel neither — only warmth and love. It didn’t matter what he did — if it would please him, it would make me happy. Plus, as his plaything, his big interest was in experiencing my reaction — that was a big part of what turned him on. The consent was almost tangible, the feelings were intense, and we both glowed — I could almost see it.
He straddled me, looking down at my smiling face, and restrained naked body, and ran his hand along my skin, before bending to kiss me.
“Do you want me to blindfold you?”
A mute nod, and 30 seconds later, and the most effective blindfold covered my eyes. “Another hiking pervertible — it’s a head band — warm on the peaks, and the most thorough blindfold I’ve found to date. It knocks the eye-covers that you get on an airplane, into a cocked hat.”
Indeed it does.
I lay there feeling like the most pampered submissive on the planet. I couldn’t move, and i was very aware that i was to abide by the rules, if i did not wish to be punished — said rules being a. not to come without permission, and b. to inform him if i were close to coming. But i like the feeling of being restrained. I enjoy the taut pull of rope on the ring of my cuff, and the feel of his fist entwined in my hair as we kiss, holding my head where it suits him.
I have said to him, several times, “It’s this feeling I get when you pull my hair — that’s how I know I’m a pervert. Whenever i worry that i’m dabbling, or I’m really vanilla and i wonder who the fuck am I kidding, — that’s when i remember the joy of  feeling of utter submissive helplessness, and dependence on the will of another — and how it speaks directly to my soul. And I know — I’m a kinkster at heart.”
Our time that day was short to begin with, and it flew by so quickly that i half-felt as though I’d dreamed it. I could write all about the thundering g-spot and gushy orgasms, not to mention the joy of combined lovemaking-fucking that I haven’t experienced in so long… it makes such a difference when you care about your Dom. Even more so when the feeling is mutually deep and intense — as it is, or so he tells me. (Meow.)
The dreamy quality of the afternoon was enhanced by my sensory deprivation, but no less than by the warm, dominant feline-like man who took care of me so well. It is to him i purr and dedicate this piece, knowing that it is only the first of many.
One more thing — in answer to your* question, YES to everything, and more, more, more. 🙂

Tyger, tyger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
  — William Blake

 *Yeah, I see you shiver. And yeah, I know who you are. Angel. Rawrr.

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Sugasm 157

The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #158? Submit a link to your best post of the week by emailing me directly at radicalvixen at gmaildotcom. Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks
A 2009 Wish For Smut Writers
“Sex bloggers are on the cusp of what I see as being a new kind of sexual revolution.”

Q&A with Domina Doll
“I enjoy teaching others how to explore that aspect of themselves.”

“He kissed the side of my neck, sweeping my long hair out of the way, working his mouth across the side of my neck to press little bites along my collarbone.”

Sugasm Editor
Sex Work And Honesty: When The Truth Hurts

Editor’s Choice
Dictation with Davis

More Sugasm

See also: Fleshbot’s Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday.

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I was given an award. My first.


Having my cake, bless her cotton socks, has awarded me the Honest Scraps award. (I’d like to thank my mother, my father, my first-grade teacher, the makers of hand-crafted glass dildos…. heh.)

I got an award -- who'da thunk it??

This award requires me to be completely honest — and this I pledge to be. 🙂Now, i will not lie and tell you that everything (other than this post) that is written on this blog is so much the god’s honest truth that I’d swear on a bible in a court of law. That which is true, that which isn’t, that which is ambiguous and misleading — only i know which phrase applies to which block or word of text. The decision not to reveal this information to you, gentle reader, what is which or which is what, is mine, and I stand by it.

It’s just easier that way.

Guidelines when winning the Honest Scrap award:

1. List 10 honest things about yourself (try to make it interesting, even if you have to dig deep!)

2. Pass the award on to 10 bloggers.

10 Things about Sapphire Jay, the Elegant Slut

1. I turn 40 this week.

2. I thought i was strictly straight until I was 39 years old. Then, ding! revelation. Apparently I’m heteroflexible. Very heteroflexible. 

3. I had a long, drawn-out and protracted affair with a cross-dresser. It was good when it was good, but when it was bad it was terrible. I wasn’t bothered by what he wore, i just hated his taste in clothes. And food, music, movies, life…. Not sextoys, though, now i come to think of it.)

4. I have amazing friends without whom i would not exist. And they all seem to have similar initials! (I won’t mention the initials in order to protect the guilty innocent. Heh.)

5. I recently met a New Person — readers of my Twitter feed will have heard about him. He makes me very happy. Happier than I have been with anyone, long or short term, for a very long time.

6. New Person reminds me of  someone i once loved very deeply, but I think that with him, there is the potential to love him more (he is still relatively new, after all). He’s a similar age, and has a similar manner when around me — warm, loving, protective, sweet, intellectually stimulating, inspiring and utterly adorable. He lacks the two things that the other person had — and this very fact endears him to me even more.

7. Cuckoldry and out-of-control raging jealousy, in case you were wondering what those two things were.

8. I’m a natural blonde, and i use this fact to explain anything from parking violations to typos. Because i can. 🙂

9. Sometimes I really love anal sex – and sometimes i do not want anything near my bottom that isn’t my underwear or a handy piece of toilet tissue at an opportune moment. I’m fickle, what can I tell you?

10. I give the best head. Seriously. I can bring witnesses and everything.

I would award the Honest Scraps award to 10 bloggers, but i’m not sure I know of ten who would do this. Suzanne P, Morpheus, Madeline, Sweatshopsissy, O… er, that’s it. [I have no friends. Sapphire NoMates. 😦 ]

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Wow. Fleshbotted again by the amazing Madeline. 🙂

She wasn’t a BBW, like myself, or like the first girl i was ever with. She was a hottie MILF: petite, brunette-to-red, sweet-smelling and clean-shaven.

How I like my women, in other words. Although size and shape are never a factor; they’re merely cosmetic. What bothers me is how sweet does she smell, how soft does she feel, and how well does she lick.

It’s zee truth.

The first time — the event was, in and of itself, an eye-opener. It was the advent of kissing and fondling and beautiful big woman, somewhat bigger and softer than I, that helped me realise why the idea of BBW was so attractive and desirable to so many men.

Having been steeped in societal norms for so long, I had become brainwashed into thinking of fat as a less than desirable asset. This despite my constant lauding of myself as a BBW, and all that went with it. (I’m very bad with the denial and the self-hatred — it’s something i work on constantly.) One touch of her downy breast, and the velvet skin on the inside of her thighs and I was hooked.

It’s like seeing something in three-dimensional view when previously all you could see was a flat representation, an image with no substance.  Big is definitely beautiful.

But this girl was not big. Not at all. Slim, proportional, muscley and wiry, but with a softness to her that was dream-like. And she was also beautiful. I refer less to her appearance, although she was, as i have mentioned, a very attractive woman. Her eyes were beautiful when she watched me kiss her husband — because of the joy it brought us both. As mine may have been when i watched them embrace and kiss passionately — immediately prior to the two of them separating, plankton-like, to attend to the opposite ends of me — one for the top, the other for the bottom. Literally. 🙂

She’d positioned herself straddled across my face, and i remember feeling how i first felt (at the tender age of 19) when confronted with a large, smooth, pink cockhead. A mental shrug and the thought of “well, it’s now or never!” accompanied my first blow-job… and so it did the first time i kissed a woman’s cunt.

People often chunter on about how natural it would be for a woman to muff-dive another woman — I disagree. If it were simply a question of licking, we’d never bother getting out of bed. No, there’s a technique involved. It’s not just how you lick, it’s where and when and how often. Speed is a factor. Pressure is another. Does one nip or gently bite, do we suck hard or merely swirl our tongue… and if so, exactly where?

It’s a science, if not an artform.

Plus every cunt is different, and every clitoris a slightly different shape, with many varieties of orgasmic possibility. My (now sadly ex-) Dom once commented on how my clitoris was “an unusual anatomical concept in that it knew exactly what it wanted” and was more given to sensitivity at the top than all over.

Well sue me. I have a fussy clit.

And I made her come. Having had the substantive content of the two previous paragraphs running through my head as i tasted her and tested her reflexes and levels of arousal, i somehow got into my stride. I found her natural rhythm and went for it, hell for leather.

For the first time i felt that all too familiar jagged shaking and shuddering, accompanied by an outpouring of sweet juices, the likes of which i had only ever tasted off my own fingers or a man’s cock before. I felt her hands grasp at me — my hair, my skin, any part they could reach as she peaked and sat atop her own personal apex for however long it was (it couldn’t be too long for me, i loved that i’d made another human being so happy). And then i felt her relax and slowly slide back down until her face was level with mine, and she kissed me again.

We embraced, and i stroked her soft smooth skin, and she took my nipples and pushed them together, teasing them with her tongue — even as she came down and i felt her breath return to normal. Her husband had this enormous smile plastered across his face, and he sighed.

“I loved watching that. Two wonderful women, there’s nothing more beautiful. All woman.”

Too fucking right, mate.

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The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #157? Submit a link to your best post of the week by emailing me directly at radicalvixenatgmaildotcom.  Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks
Mouth Music
“Can you feel the heat of my lips taunting you yet?”

4 a.m.
“My mouth craves skin and I dip my head to her shoulder.”

“I want my whisper in your ear to make you shiver”

Sugasm Editor
Sex Work And Honesty: Being Too Honest

Editor’s Choice
To Richard, A Dedication. Confession #205

More Sugasm

See also: Fleshbot’s Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday.

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Thank you and a very happy new year to the sexiest chick on the planet for fleshbotting Elegant Smut again…

It’s not merely titular. That’s how i began the new year — a thundering orgasm, self-administered.

By choice, I might add — my children are asleep in bed, and at nearly-forty-holy-FUCK-that’s-ridiculously-old years of age, i wasn’t really in the mood for mindless alcohol consumption and partying of a non-specific nature simply because 2008 became 2009.

Call me boring if you dare. I make my own way, and my own fun. Haven’t you read this blog at all, people?

I decided instead to reflect on what the past year had wrought, in particular the most recent part — less recent is pretty much all documented here. Kinda — and what the year ahead had to offer. Then, at the suggestion of a dear and very horny friend — I wanked myself into 2009.

And what a way to start the year it was.

2008 saw my first kiss with a woman, way back in April.

Christmas 2008 saw me develop that further into my first girl-girl fuck. It’s an odd way to celebrate Christmas, in particular because that’s precisely what I don’t usually do (celebrate Christmas, not fuck — i fuck quite a lot). But they did, apparently, if the gaily decorated Christmas tree was anything to go by.

And I made her come.

The first time my lips and tongue touched moist girlie flesh — and I made her writhe in ecstasy above my face.

While her husband fucked me until I gushed…

Kinda proud of that, I am. Heh.

It’s the most bizarre sensation — the absorption of the various simultaneous occurrences by my just-hanging-onto-reality-by-a-thread brain. Mouth: enjoying the taste and smell of a beautiful woman. Bazooms: being manipulated, manhandled and pinched by both his and her hands. Cunt being pounded by a long, thick (and need I say rampant?) cock.

Now i understand the meaning of the phrase sensory overload.

In describing the event to aforementioned dear-and-horny-friend the conversation went thusly:

Dear-and-horny-friend : how was your Christmas?

Sapphire: non-existent, darling — i’m a Jew.

Dear-and-horny-friend: Ah but c’mon you must have done something. rescue me here

Sapphire: Well, i had sex with a husband and wife who had a Christmas tree in their living room — how’s that?

Dear-and-horny-friend: Dang, you celebrated the season quite appropriately then.

Sapphire: Well, yes.

I have so much more to tell you about — the twenty minute blow-job, the girl-girl-guy kiss that became a girl-girl-cock kiss… but it’s after midnight and I am tired.

Happy New Year to all of you out there. May the best of 2008 be the worst of 2009.

Sapphire x

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