The Sex Lives of KinkyMira and Friends

Kinky and filthy things that have happened to us, all explicitly told

Category: Kink (Page 8 of 9)

A Love Of Spanking

25 September 2019 /

My husband sat upright on the chaise part of our sofa, and I bent over his knees and upper legs. My 34H tits hung down to the left side of his legs and my hands and elbows rested on the sofa on his left side (keeping my body horizontal). My feet touched the floor on his right, my legs spread so that my weight rested on his upper legs, and so that he had great access to my cunt. My white marble like ass was then proudly sticking up to the right, and his right hand gently stroked my ass cheeks.

The anticipation kills me every time. Just waiting the eternity for that first strike of his hand. I was ready. I wanted to be spanked. I needed to be spanked. This was a recreational spanking, a spanking for fun, not for control or discipline. We both spank each other, and today it is my turn to be spanked. I love the acts of contact, I love the attention my ass gets as he’s spanking me, I love the bright red ass in the mirror, I love my tits swinging in response to each contact and I love the throb that reminds me for many hours of what has happened to my poor defenceless ass. I even love that phrase “my poor defenceless ass”.

I felt his hand leave my ass and then a second later felt the full force of his hand landing on my right cheek. I sometimes count but didn’t this time. I wanted to focus on my ass. He hit his favourite spot, at the bottom on my cheeks in an up and under manoeuvre. The second, third, fourth, fifth and sixth all hit the same spot on alternating cheeks with increasing force. This was the start of the warmup before he moved on to the main event; to the implements he had chosen.

I knew the drill – we’ve done this a lot. I stay in position. If I happen to move by the force of the strike, I have to retake the position as quickly as possible. I need to not say anything other than numbers or to answer a question, and I need to muffle and stifle as much other sound as possible. On no account do I try to protect my ass, either by moving it or with my hands. Once I bend over, he’s totally in charge. He decides how many strokes I get and with what implements.

He got to twenty on each cheek and started rubbing my ass with his hand, a sure-fire signal that I was in for a long spanking. We have found that if he rubs my ass occasionally with the hand or paddle, it means that I can take significantly more strokes. (Most of the time I want a higher number of strokes, even if they are delivered with a less painful implement). The act of rubbing seems to rub the pain across my cheeks, allowing them to take more punishment.

After about 30 seconds of rubbing with his hand, he started again, each stroke as deliberate and forceful as the previous one, each stroke delivered precisely to that same area. I looked across at him and smiled at the concentration on his face. He enjoys spanking me as much as I love being spanked.

To deliver a good spanking is skilful, and over time he’s honed his technique to what gets me going. Slow and deliberate strokes, each delivered with a maximum force are much more effective than quick rhythmic strokes. The slowness gives the effects of the stroke time to take hold, helping to build that fire that denotes a good spanking.

He reached forty strokes with his hand on each cheek and again rubbed at my cheeks, before switching hands and rubbing my cheeks with his left hand and dropping his right hand between my legs to sample how wet my cunt was. He called me a slut because of how sticky a spanking made my cunt and he sucked my wet sticky juices off his fingers, before playing with my cunt for a bit. He wouldn’t let me cum, as if I did, a switch would flick in my head, and I wouldn’t want any more strokes. No, it was in his interest to keep me wet and excited, nearing orgasm but not getting there.

When he thought I’d had my cunt played with enough, he picked up my go to paddle. It is purple satin, with a hard side and a soft side, and the soft side was his next warm up phase.

The feeling of the soft side is different from his hand. It is a more even contact, with the force over a smaller area than the hand. He said my ass was starting to go a nice pink colour. He knew I always want a proper red, and he knew what he had to do.

I glanced up at the big screen on the wall. He had two webcams set up, one pointing at my tits (so that he could watch them swing away in time with each stroke), and another pointing square on to my ass and cunt (so that I could see first-hand how red my ass was without moving off my comfortable position).

The paddle contacted both cheeks at the same time, and we were back to slow deliberate high-power thwacks. He accelerated the paddle head all the way down and stopped its progress only with my poor ass. Twenty of those were followed by a rubbing of my cheeks with the paddle. The caress is different with a paddle too – it is rougher and less sensual – it is almost a warning of strokes yet to come. My ass was starting to sting now, but there was a long way to go before this spanking was completed. Once the thirty seconds is over, he started with the full thwacks again.

The final twenty with the soft side of the paddle led to more left-handed rubbing and right-handed cunt playing. I was very slick by then, and he spent a few minutes getting his hand sticky with my juices, then licking them off. If Victoria was here, her mouth would be licking and sucking at my cunt, but he didn’t want to move me to do so himself.

Once upon a time, that would have been enough of a spanking, but not now. I still have the final part of the warmup to do, twenty thwacks with the hard side, more ass rubbing and another twenty with the hard side. By this time, each strike with the paddle certainly got my attention, and my ass was getting a deeper pink all the time.

He took another chance to scoop my cunt juices out, whilst soothing my ass with his left hand. I knew I’d been spanked, and he judged that I was suitably warmed up, so it was time to start the main event. I was desperate for some cunt relief (but I wasn’t about to get an orgasm) and some ass relief would have been nice (but my poor defenceless ass was going to get more punishment not relief).

I was about to find out what he was going to use on my poor defenceless ass now. It was expecting more painful and more unforgiving. I was breathing quite heavily, a mix of my heightened sexual situation and the anticipation of the working over my ass was about to receive. The anticipation kills me every time.

An Introduction To Cunt Worship (The Curtsy Chronicles – Part Four)

26 May 2019 /

I’m not going to document every day of our stay in this fabulous place. We fucked a lot, and we talked a lot with other people who were happy to fuck with you watching. One unexpected thing that I really enjoyed about this place was the conversation, the freedom to have discussions about sex, likes, kinks and other sex related topics that you would rarely have the chance to discuss in public in normal daily life. Let’s face it, when people have seen you fuck with the abandon that you do here, a lot of the walls that stop these kinds of discussions are simply blown away.

One such couple we discussed things with were the couple who helped us off the Queening chair. Her name was Olivia and she and her husband were Canadian. They live in a small town where most of the residents had an even smaller mind-set, so coming here gives them a taste of sexual freedoms they only get behind closed doors at home.

We first talked whilst we were waiting for Eva on that first night and continued when they joined us for breakfast the following morning. They were clearly eager to talk about my experience of the Queening chair. I explained how fabulous it was for my body to be fully supported and how that allowed me to fully focus on my cunt and the actions on it, probably for the first time ever; there was no other touch between us, no one else touching me and no aches and pains to distract me. I said that, in those moments, I found myself so focussed on my cunt that I excluded everything else. It was an overwhelming kind of feeling, and one I can’t say I’ve felt before; I found myself feeling that the whole of our relationship flowed through my cunt and into his mouth; our mental and physical energy, our physical form and contact, not to mention my actual cunt juices that were being licked up. The comments about the energy and being overwhelmed brought about nods of heads and knowing smiles.

It is a very hard feeling to describe (and I haven’t really done it justice), but that feeling is one well known to Olivia, and embracing that feeling has led her and her husband to a much stronger relationship and a much more sexual relationship. They explained to us that the feeling led them to embrace Cunt Worship – in its original sense, not in the one used by the porn industry in recent years. The porn version is about domination and female led relationships, but the original type of Cunt Worship is something much more gentle. It stems from an almost hippy like belief in energy flows, specifically that the energy of the woman is directed both in and out through her cunt, and therefore through her cunt comes her whole life force. Because of these energy flows, the cunt is worshipped, an almost religious devotion to pleasing the cunt (as you would any other god), and it isn’t just him that worships her cunt – she does too, pampering and pleasuring her cunt at every opportunity.

Historically, this sort of Cunt Worship has been a part of a number of religious faiths, and indeed, the cunt was historically displayed as something to be revered and cherished, and they had noted my love of displaying my cunt.

Olivia and her husband have totally embraced the Cunt Worship lifestyle, and it was fascinating to hear them describe what they do. Her cunt is the absolute focus of their life, and the time and devotion they put into her cunt is amazing.

They consider a Queening chair to be essential for a Cunt Worship lifestyle. They first discovered a Queening chair here on their first visit five years ago, and they bought one and had it sent home. A local French engineer builds them, and when I expressed a desire to take one home myself, they offered to introduce us. Wow, our very own Queening chair would be fabulous.

Anyway, they use theirs every day for at least an hour, on weekends often for two one hour periods or more. If Olivia feels his devotion to her cunt has not been enough, she uses the Queening chair’s angled facesitting option, if she feels his devotion has been acceptable, she will go for the horizontal licking option that we tried.

Their average day includes a good amount of adoration. She displays her cunt as much as possible at home. She never wears anything below the waist at home, and always sits with her legs spread so he can look adoringly at her cunt; he even looks at her cunt when they are having a conversation. She has a full length mirror that she can locate so that she can look at her own cunt in its full glory, and they take endless photos of her cunt in full flower.

He sometimes sits between her legs so that he can adore her cunt close up, and it is from this position that he does regular cunt inspections, an intimate examination of her cunt, both externally and internally, with his fingers and with instruments. He particularly enjoys using a speculum on her, as that allows him to stare adoringly and photograph deep into her cunt.

He also learned cunt massage, which Olivia finds very satisfying, and he has the task of cleaning her cunt, especially if it is manky through heat or exercise.

They both generally pamper her cunt, through look, touch, and interaction. Her desire to please her cunt has made her use bigger and bigger toys to make her cunt feel full, and she rides suction dildos multiple times every day, and of course, his cock spewing cum into her cunt also pleases it, which normally happens at least twice a day (once before work and once after if it is a workday).

They believe that her cunt demonstrates its pleasure by orgasming and squirting. They expect to make her squirt once every day, and between them, they make her orgasm a minimum of ten times a day, either he makes her cum with his mouth, fingers, or cock, or she makes herself cum with some toys, both penetrative and suction.

That single minded devotion to pleasing her cunt and to making it happy is the drive of their life, and the power and bonding they get from the energy flows through her cunt is something to behold.

I can understand how this seems to be a small step to the domination model, but for them, it isn’t about domination. Their relationship is so much stronger since they have whole-heartedly embraced the Cunt Worship lifestyle, and they are now so much happier.

As you will probably know, I love my ass being fucked and fondled and generally filled. As part of their Cunt Worship, Olivia’s ass is totally ignored. I could never do that. But Olivia is of the belief that most couples and relationships could benefit from some focussed Cunt Worship, even if people don’t totally embrace the lifestyle. Let’s face it: many people already adore and worship a cunt to some degree, and how many of those people are going to turn down the chance to have some focussed cunt time. It really is upping the emotion to apply the traits of sexual worship to cunt actions you already carry out, and my husband and I decided we’d try it out.

I do feel like my cunt is second to my ass (that is entirely my doing, as I love anal so much), so I like the idea of a little Cunt Worship. Olivia suggested we were well on the way, and they gave us some tips to try…….

Queen For Half An Hour (The Curtsy Chronicles – Part Three)

12 May 2019 /

We entered the bar and headed to the far right wall as suggested by Eva, and there they were – four queening chairs for us to try. My heart leapt with joy when she suggested them, and here they actually are, available for us to use.

I’ve loved the idea of queening chairs for some years. When I got together with my now husband, he was very disappointed that I didn’t really like my cunt being licked. It wasn’t about the actual licking though (I did rather enjoy that), it was much more about bodily and muscular comfort, and the fact that it always ended up being frustratingly cut short by aches and pains. We have tried various positions to improve how long he can lick me for, but the cutting short nearly always happens. Trying to find a solution to supporting us both during cunnilingus lead me to discover queening chairs.

We would have bought one years ago, but it was very clear that they needed to be fitted to our bodies and tested, especially as our issue is related to bodily support and pain, this fitting and testing seemed essential. There were two designs here for us to try, one where the ladies seat was at regular chair height, and one much nearer the ground. A cute brunette barmaid came over to explain them to us.

Starting with the one at regular chair height, I would sit on the chair, with my back and head supported at a reclined angle of my choice. There is a semi-circular notch cut out of the front of the seat, where his head pokes through, putting his face in close proximity to my cunt. Behind his head is a support, and his back is supported in a reclined state with his legs pocking out of the back of the chair at ground level. With the amazing amount of adjustment in the chair, we could get the position perfect for him licking away at my cunt, and with us both being fully supported, hopefully the licking can last a lot longer than at we can without the chair. The whole chair can rotate vertically though, so that my cunt can end up being pushed by gravity into his face, this being a more forceful face-sitting position. There are also straps to tie down his wrists “because we don’t want him focussing on wanking his cock, we want him totally focussed on licking your cunt”. If I were to sit the other way hugging the back rest, he would have access to my asshole instead.

The lower height queening chair has a large groove from front to back of the seat instead of the notch in the seat. This groove means that regardless of whether I was to recline or sit the other way and hug the back of the chair, he has access to both my asshole and my cunt. His head is nearly on the ground, and his body is therefore almost flat, again with wrist restraints as before. The barmaid suggested for that one, I should part my ass cheeks before sitting down, as it would much improve his access.

There were two examples of each chair, and I knew over the coming days, I would try both, but on this day, I decided to go for the first option, the higher chair and not using gravity to force my cunt down on him. The barmaid helped my husband to get in, then adjusted his seat to get his head in the right position, then I got on and she adjusted mine, before as a final point, moving my body towards my husband a notch, bringing my cunt right up to his face, and pinning his head against the back support.

She gave me a digital timer, and she suggested the usual protocol is to time how long he’s licking me for, and for him to grunt when he wants to stop but for me to then tell him when he can actually stop – usually after the next orgasm. She then bent down behind me and restrained his wrists, as I clicked go on the timer and my husband’s tongue started work.

It was totally dreamy. We were both fully relaxed and totally supported in a position that allowed him to lick my cunt without either of us having to put strain on our muscles. I noticed a few people come to sit at the tables close by to watch us, but my attention rarely strayed from my cunt, and soon I felt an orgasm start to build. I didn’t want this to end too soon, so I resisted the orgasm for as long as I could, but at 6:34 on the timer, he licked me over the edge, and I came with a massive shuddering orgasm. When I finally stopped vibrating, I felt his tongue flicking round my cunt, scooping up my juices and swallowing them, and then he started licking me again.

Normally after a licking orgasm, my cunt gets sensitive and he has to stop licking and move on to something else, but not today. This was a challenge to override my sensitivity and to hold my cunt in position for much more licking and another orgasm or two. I found myself focussing on my cunt and how that was the only physical connection between us at that moment, and I found myself feeling like at this time, the whole energy of our relationship flowed through my cunt and into his mouth. These feelings were overwhelming, but addictively good.

My second orgasm was at 11:04. I didn’t fight that one, I just let it come. I was so in the zone, in the moment, that I let my body do what it wanted. There is a really interesting juxtaposition in him being restrained both by my body and wrist restraints, and yet he was the one in total control of my body, through my cunt. I orgasmed again at 20:21 and was starting to build to orgasm number 4 when, at 26:56, he moaned (his signal that he was nearing the end). I told him that he was doing a wonderful job, and that I was so near another orgasm that I needed him to carry on. He hadn’t broken rhythm and carried on with renewed speed. I decided I was going to resist the orgasm until he got to 30 minutes, and he got me so near. I had to hold on to it for my life, but as soon as the clock flicked over 30:00 and then 30:01, I let go and let the orgasm flood over me.

After I had finished twitching, he again scooped up my juices with his tongue and swallowed, then he stopped and waited for me to move. I opened my eyes to see the audience applauding (I had totally forgotten that they existed) and one of the couples came over to help to get us out of the queening chair. I remembered I had to curtsy and was appreciative of the applause. My poor husband’s tongue had already started to ache, but I was proud of him for getting to 30 minutes and I was totally satisfied and exhausted, so I suggested we get some sleep after watching Eva fuck. What a fabulous place, and what a fabulous day, and we had ten more here before we had to leave.

OMG! He Made Me Squirt

1 January 2019 /

OMG! He made me squirt. First time ever. His face was soaked, as was the sofa. I was totally shocked at what he had done – he definitely made me squirt.

We’ve been trying to make me squirt on and off for most of the year, and I’ve been getting tense about it. I made the mistake of declaring making me squirt as a challenge for 2018. Despite some of the challenges being really hard, we’ve never failed in a challenge, yet despite a large number of attempts at squirting, we hadn’t managed it, and as we drifted through November, it was clear I was getting more and more stressed (which made me squirting less and less likely).

About 3 weeks ago, after another failed try, my husband told me that he thought I was stressing myself out, and therefore I was less likely to succeed, so he thought we should stop trying for a bit and maybe try again in January. I was disappointed, but he was probably right. We were bound to fail a challenge at some point, but the problem was that I really wanted to squirt. I was quite desperate to squirt. I had wanted to squirt since I first saw this beautiful girl at university squirt and soak those in front of her (it was a drunken party, and we women were discussing squirting and most women didn’t believe she could, so she called her boyfriend and proved it to us).

I’ve tried on a number of occasions over the years, but never had any success, but I didn’t give up. I thought that if anyone could make me squirt, it would be my wonderful, amazing husband, who reads my body like a book, and who knows every inch of me.

But my husband had a plan. He hadn’t given up on the challenge, but he knew that I needed to relax into it, and so he had to take the pressure off. He figured if he could take squirting completely off the table, then I wouldn’t really think about it and would relax into the session.

For part of his birthday, I’m always his sex slave, so he can do whatever he wants with me during that time. He realised he could play with my cunt quite a bit and he thought he would see if he could get me to squirt without me realising what was happening.

So, for the best part of an hour, he worked on my cunt and on my mind. It was quite a steamy foreplay session, with one of his hands nearly always in contact with my cunt (all the time he was kissing me or squeezing my tits or sucking on my nipples, he was also working my cunt). He was whispering gentle and loving filth about what he was going to do to me, but he didn’t once mention squirting – he was in full-on distraction mode. He then moved down my body and started licking my clit, as well as using his fingers. He rolled my clit in his fingers and occasionally flicked at it with a fingernail. My poor clit was feeling very tender and swollen, and yet I was begging him to carry on.

He started working some fingers in and out of my cunt. I now realise that he was deliberately not going near my G-spot, instead he was stimulating the length of my cunt with his fingers and it was all adding to how hot I was.

I was about to beg for his cock when he rolled his hand over whilst his fingers were in my cunt (so his palm was face up) and he started using his fingertips on my G-spot, delicately and rhythmically stroking at it. I still didn’t work out what he was up to – I was so in the moment and so focussed on my cunt and what he was doing to me that I didn’t realise. I didn’t want cock, I wanted him to carry on making my cunt feel amazing. Even when I got to the “need to piss” phase, I didn’t twig. Since we piss in sex quite a bit, I have learned to embrace such feelings, so I just let it pass over. He had put protective towels on the settee where I was, so I wasn’t concerned. He was using his tongue to flick over my clit, whilst at the same time firmly stimulating my G-spot with his fingertips. I was almost delirious at the effect he was having on my cunt, and the effect my cunt was having on me.

And then, wham, I squirted. I was totally and completely shocked. I opened my eyes to see his face soaked in my juices. There was also a big wet patch between my legs and my inner thighs were covered.

All I could say was “You made me squirt. I can’t believe it. You made me squirt.” He had a smug expression on his face. My husband’s devious little scheme worked superbly. I love him so much for even trying. He knew how much I wanted it, so he concocted this whole plan to make me squirt without realising what was happening.

He licked some off his face and I leant in to lick his face too. It was quite sweet, not really what I was expecting. I also wasn’t expecting to need his cock so quickly. It was clear I needed to cum, and his cock was hard, so he slid me down the sofa, so my ass was in the middle of the wet patch (such a turn on) and he buried his rock hard cock into my cunt and started pounding away. He made me cum twice before he spurted, and he left his cock to shrink out of my cunt, whilst kissing me very deeply and ensuring my ass didn’t leave the wet patch.

Analysing how he made me squirt, obviously, taking the pressure off was a big help. I was totally relaxed and in the moment. People have mentioned that “need to piss” moment, but I was easily able to pass that off, as I’m often pissing with him. It was the combination of clit and g-spot stimulation that did it for me. In all the penetrative sex I’ve had, I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything like it, so I suspect I’m a g-spot only squirter, but I’m happy with to be able to squirt at all! There is one thing for certain, the same distraction technique wouldn’t work again. He knew it was a one-off, but it proved to me that I could squirt, and it showed him how to get me there. He was fairly certain that he has the technique sorted, so provided I can remove the stress and let him take care of my entire body, he should be able to reproduce it. I need to be able to squirt on demand. I can’t let the stress of trying to squirt stop me from doing it again. I am eager to it try again. I love it, but I want to enjoy squirting rather than being shocked by it! I’ve wanted to squirt for years and thought I never would, but now I have. We don’t do Christmas presents, but he certainly gave me the most amazing one this year!

The Power of Intimate Scent

29 October 2018 /

My husband loves it when I smell of sex. You know the smell – it is unmistakable, and my husband is always very happy when I smell like that. He likes me to go out and about doing normal tasks like shopping or having a meal, whilst still smelling of sex.

I’m certain everyone can smell it. Of course, even if they do, nobody ever says anything. It is however quite a turn on going round, wondering who can smell sex in the air and who can work out it is emanating from me; I really don’t mind the world knowing I’ve recently been fucked. Yes, I love it when I smell of sex too.

Smell is a very powerful sense and for us, smell has a very close link with sex, arousal, and attraction. In today’s modern world, our sense of smell is bombarded by air fresheners, washing and cleaning products and all manner of other chemical fragrances. For health reasons, I’ve had to leave all that behind, meaning that neither my husband nor I use any sort of fragrance in any product ever. What doing that has unmasked are natural and arousing smells, smells that are a turn on, smells that are comforting, smells that added to our attraction to each other.

I started liking and being turned on by the smell of sex and the smell of my cunt and juices when I first started masturbating, although the joy was tempered somewhat my being wary of my mother smelling and having a go at me (because sex is a bad thing, don’t you know?). I always wanked into a pair of my panties, and I kept them in a resealable plastic bag, so that I could smell them whenever I wanted and to ensure that my mother didn’t have a chance to smell them. I would find places to masturbate that wasn’t at home: friends’ houses, shopping centre toilets, pub toilets, the local park, anywhere she wasn’t and would not be able to smell it on me. This early panty sniffing and cunt stuffing was well before I knew these terms existed.

Once I escaped from the clutches of my mother, I was able to masturbate more freely. When I was at university, I was masturbating numerous times every day, and I was inhaling from my damp panties regularly. I still used to wank in random places, as I enjoyed it, so I spent a lot of time smelling of sex. I even had a chance to smell other women’s panties, as during our experimental phase, we were masturbating in groups at parties or study sessions in our bedrooms. They were happy times, and my love of cunt smell and the smell of sex was firmly established.

Coming forward to my then new boyfriend (later my husband), and within weeks of us starting to fuck, he was sniffing my panties; he would sometimes take my panties off me and inhale deeply from my gusset, a simple act that always made his cock rock hard, and an act that made me very happy. It was obvious he liked the smell of my cunt too, and indeed, so it turned out, the smell of my ass. I always wore a thong, so the gusset was always tight against my cunt and the rear strip of fabric buried deep between my ass cheeks, gently nudging my asshole, meaning it would be absorbing my intimate smells all day.

He likes it best when I have a strong smell, so after I have been exercising is popular. When I wore panties, the rear strip of fabric and the gusset were both soaked in my sweat, and instead of getting changed as soon as I got home, I took to keeping them on until he was able to take them off me. My panties often ended up sealed in a bag for later use, and he proceeded to bury his face between my legs and inhale my aroma; it was as if he found my smell intoxicating – it was like he was drinking in my smell. It was a simple thing I could do to turn him on, and I have to admit I don’t understand why some women have a problem with it. Why would anyone not love their partner craving and taking in their intimate smell?

Similarly, he likes smelling my cunt before I have a shower – he always has preferred me to be a little manky down there rather than sparklingly clean. It is a fine balance between kink and hygiene, but I like to indulge him when I can. My favourite position for doing this is to sit astride his face with his nose buried between my cunt lips. The smell of my cunt completely overwhelms his sense of smell and I’ll often apply my mains-powered wand to my clit to make myself cum on his nose. I have a hard time cumming without moving, so this is a real challenge for me, but to overwhelm his sense of smell, I have to keep his nose fully buried in my lips. To help me to not move, he firmly holds around my waist, whilst I focus on the sensations coursing from my clit through my cunt. It is very special and very intimate. Often such arousal by intimate smell is closely followed by him licking my cunt and ass crack, so he can enjoy my flavour as well as my smell.

I am incredibly lucky to have experienced the overwhelming of my sense of smell with our friend Victoria’s cunt. She fully buries my nose between her cunt lips and cums over and over again with a wand. It is totally overpowering, and she loves seeing me almost delirious with her cunt smells and juices. I can now totally understand why my husband loves it so much.

He too has had the joy of having his nose buried in Victoria’s fragrant and juicy cunt and has enjoyed her slick of juices deposited all over his face. He is right in how he describes our cunts as being very different to have your nose buried in, but he is addicted to both. Victoria also has had her nose buried in my cunt and loved the fact that my cunt smell was quite strong, and I am nowhere near as wet as she gets. Victoria also leaves us each some panties soaked in her cunt juices, so we can inhale her smell between visits, something we both love to do.

My relationship with my husband’s smell is slightly different. I get a lot of comfort from his smell, in particular, the smell of his cock and balls. I have found that this smell calms me down if I am anxious, comforts me if I am upset and reminds me that I am loved. I know many women get such comfort from the smell of a t-shirt, but that does nothing for me. It has to be the smell of his cock and balls, either in person or from an as-yet unwashed pair of his thongs and that is so comforting and calming.

My favourite position for smelling his balls is a position I used to feel was somewhat degrading. With me lying on my back on the floor, he lies face down with his face around my cunt and his balls wedged up against my nostrils (and his cock down my face). In this position, his smell is strongest and the most enjoyable and calming.

When I was going through a tough time over the summer, I asked him to leave a thong with a really strong smell, so he wore one all weekend for me, starting clean on Friday and wearing it until his shower on Monday morning. That really strong smell that got me through the rest of the week (bagged between usage to preserve the smell). It really was amazingly calming, and in the past, where I may have had to resort to the occasional diazepam, inhaling deeply from his thong was enough.

Similarly, when he went away for work, I always used to pack him one of my used thongs sealed in a bag, so that he could smell my cunt and ass whilst he was away. I always wore mine for three days too to make sure it was strongly scented, and he loved that, even though he was many miles away, he could still regularly inhale deeply from my bagged fragrant panties and smell my cunt and ass: it was similarly comforting to him.

When I stopped wearing panties ten months ago, we needed to find an alternative solution to allow him to take my smell with him. So, I revealed my penchant for cunt stuffing instead; in this context, we stuffed my cunt with a piece of fabric, an unbleached cotton square. We found these absorbed my cunt smell much quicker being cotton and being internal and these were often damper too, which he loved, especially if I masturbated with it up there. I sometimes put a cotton strip down between my ass cheeks as well, so he can still take my ass smell with him too.

Smell is an incredibly potent sense, and our smells are a source of comfort, arousal, and calm for each other. It is something so simple and yet so powerful.

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