All woman

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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Coming into 2009

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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She-some

Updated: Fleshbotted by Madeline! Yay!

It had never been an ambition of mine to fuck another woman.

Not that I was ever terribly strenuous in my denial of any hint of bi-curiosity, or hetero-flexibility. Why would I be? It simply was not something that had ever aroused my curiosity, never mind any other part of me; sensual or physical. A “no” as opposed to a “no way, Jose…”

I can recall several discussions with various women friends of mine about how I felt. On a couple of occasions, friends of mine expressed gentle regret at the fact that I wasn’t even willing to dip my toe in the water — so to speak. Often they would even offer me a helping hand, not to mention tongue, on my first foray into Sappho’s world.

What they usually failed to grasp was that as soon as it piqued my interest, I’d be ready, willing and able. It’s a question of fore-thinking with me, I’ve always been a bit of a late bloomer. It took me years to try control and submission play, but when i finally did, i took to it like a duck to water. (Especially if the water is ice cold, and there are restraints, blindfolds, floggers and glass dildos involved.)

In conversation with a former lover — actually, scratch that., I don’t think I’ve had even one lover who, either subtly or less so, didn’t encourage me to get it on with another gal. The reasons varied, but the purpose was always the same. It ranged from the pseudo-altruistic “Well, Saph, if you wanted to expand your experiences, i wouldn’t mind…” to the restrainedly curious (read: gagging for it and hiding it well) “Don’t you think you’d like to try an FMF threesome? ” to the blatantly horny (read: gagging for it and not hiding it at all) “I’d love for you and another woman to serve me simultaneously”.

And to all of which, plus the various shades of gray in between, i answered “Er… no, thanks.”

It just didn’t do it for me.

Until, one day, it suddenly did.

I don’t know why or how the switch happened. (Not that kind of a switch. Perverts.) I just knew that when a relatively new lover suggested that I meet him at a friend’s place, with said friend in situ. Oh, and said friend? A girl.

In truth, when he’d made the suggestion, I’d surprised myself by agreeing immediately. And when I say surprised, you know I actually mean flabbergasted. I was strangely unworried by any potential three-way unequal division of attention. I thought about it and considered it, sure. But it didn’t bother me. I also was completely unconcerned about what to do. I mean, no one ever gave me lessons in how to touch, or kiss, or lick a male body. And fuck, did I not own a perfectly fine and in-full-working-order woman’s body? Maybe i already had more of a clue than i thought?

Yeah maybe.

I was actually fairly certain that if i was happy in the situation, everything would just fall into place. And it did.

He’d picked me up after work, and we’d driven to her place. On the way, he sang her praises non-stop.

“She’s the best,” he said. “She’s this lovely sweet person, and she’s nuts about me.”

I chuckled quietly at his egoism. It turned out to be absolutely true, ego or no ego.

He continued. “She’s a big girl, but sexy — hell, so damn sexy.”

“Of course she’s sexy. I’m big and I’m sexy — what gives?” I retorted. He laughed and placed a hand on my knee. “Hell, yeah — you’re fucking sexy.” And as we paused at a traffic light, he kissed me until my head span.

As we entered her apartment, he leaned into her and kissed her in the same way as he’d kissed me. I’m not a jealous person, and as I watched them kiss, i realised how hot it was to see. Strike one for possessive envy, score one for voyeurism.

It’s a compromise I’m happy with.

He pulled away from her, not ungently, and smiled at me. Briefly kissing me again, he put an arm around her and one around me. “Sapphire,” he said, “Meet Jewel.”

She leaned in and kissed me and i found myself thinking back to every sex-blog post I’d ever read about the softness of another woman’s lips, and how very true that was. In the background I heard him murmur something about two virgins. He couldn’t mean her, I thought wildly, this woman had to have done this before. She was so instinctive, so good at it — I was very curious as to what he’d meant.

We broke from the kiss and she smiled at me.

“You kiss amazingly well,” she said.

“Likewise,” I smiled back. “You know that was my first ever time kissing another woman, right?”

“Yes,” she said, “Mine too.”

“Seriously?”

Then he chimed in. “Yup. That’s what I said before. My two virgins…”

I’d lost another virginity to another virgin — although it certainly hadn’t felt that way. I’d always presumed that virgins were gangly, and awkward. Not she. Anything but. Just by embracing her soft and luscious body I suddenly had a flash of deeper understand why so many men are fans of the Big Beautiful Woman.

I certainly couldn’t blame them.

More to follow…

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