I Guess The Only Way I Can Be With You Is Thru Your Stag? How Can I Befriend Him

Your place? or mine?

A thought-sharing on the proverbial ‘place’.

There have been a variety of places that I get taken to when ‘picked up’ (or hunted, if you wanted to use that word) by a bull. Very few actually takes me to their home.

Some who were married, took me to their single friend’s house where he convinced the friend to step out of his house and leave us in private for a while. Some even didn’t do that and just took me inside one of the bedrooms while the friend waited patiently outside. The bull would deliberately get noisy, maybe just to let his friend outside know of how much he is enjoying doing whatever he is doing to me, and at times despite me trying consciously to be as silent as possible, my physical resistance would break and even I would get noisy in the flow of things. It was then kind of embarrassing to step out to the living room where his friend would be waiting after the bull would have finished doing his things to me. The sight of us emerging out of the room with his shirt hanging out of his trousers and our partially disheveled hair and crushed clothes, faces shining in sweat, would often result in an exchange of shy smiles laden with embarrassment, sometimes a silly giggle which conveyed to each other about ‘I know what you did there in the last few minutes’ and ‘I know that you know’; in some cases a total avoidance or acknowledgement of each other and just being in a hurry to step out of the house; or, in some rare instances, being offered a cup of tea with our host, getting to know him better and a polite request from the bull to give our gracious host my companionship, which in a way meant vanishing inside the room again, this time with the host, and staying over at his house longer than it was initially planned.

Some bulls, who are unmarried and had their own house available would take me there, make me feel comfortable at the new settings, pleasure both of us and then drop me back once the needs are adequately fulfilled.

Yet some, who are well ‘connected’, had their friends working in hotels would manage to get a room without having to go through the formality of having id checks etc. I found there are so many hotels that allow a ‘willing’ couple some privacy and in a way I think they are god-sent. So I often find myself in some not-so-good hotels where the linens are stained and at times in really posh ones which has wall-to-wall mirrors on the wardrobes. While the soft, diffused light and the soft, white linen is definitely something I love, the mirror isn’t particularly much of a turn on for me though its presence made a difference in the mood. But I realized it is a really strong aphrodisiac for my bull (men in general) to be able to observe himself as a third person, how he is getting me done…synonymous to watching a live show of a couple indulging in sex where he controls and sees what the male does to the female and thus trying to do all that he wanted to see getting done on screen. Men are very visual creatures and I love them for being that.

And yet, there have been those instances, triggered by the sense of his urgency coupled with lack of the proverbial ‘place’ where he drove me in his car to somewhere secluded enough which afforded us the privacy in the darkness of the evening/night to pleasure each other inside the cramped back seat, before he drove us back to the city again. It was far from the relaxed and comfortable setting of a bedroom, but had its own charm of giving in to his primal desire to copulate.

Do you believe in unicorns? Also where do you live?

Believe? Belief is an understatement. I am protected and guarded by three unicorns who let no harm befall me no matter how reckless I am. I am surviving because of them.

Would you ever give a chance to one of your fan from Tumblr and have sex with them? ;)

:)   no.

She is lush. You get lost in the thickness of her wit, her charm, her sweetness, her curves, her sex. She is whiskey neat. She burns, she soothes, she warms, she makes you forget or worse she makes you remember. She is literature. She is an adventure, a classic, a mystery, a plot twist, a page turner, a hard read, a childhood favorite, a romance, a triumph, a tragedy. She is stolen moments, secret lust, extra, on the side, a maybe, a la carte, a vacation, a dream, a fantasy. One day, she will be someone’s everything.

allthethingsiwant (via allthethingsiwant)

Where are you from?? Do you hookup with people on tumblr??

Somewhere in India.

I love how you relate every post with your own experience, and express it so sensually. Will you please write a small post or a story describing how you started this sexual journey with your husbands colleague...

I am so thankful to you for the kind words. I can do so but not sure if a public post of that will be appreciated by the other members here.

Also, I only reblog those that I can relate to my life and try to add my experience in the similar situation to give the reblogged photo a personal touch. Thank you so much for the encouraging words.

Through the stories you post on your tumblr, how should we know you? Who your are or who you want to be? Or neither?

My posts relate mostly to my past, or a bit of the present.

I studied your blog many times and came to conclusion that You are the hotwife whom I was seeking but You meet the people whom your stag introduced you. My question is how to contact your stag so I can meet you.

~ While I am flattered at your compliments, I must also point out that I do not meet anyone from here. Thanks for taking time to read my posts.

When u post ur pic??

😉I post my pics exactly when you log out and remove them just before you log back in.😉