The Sex Lives of KinkyMira and Friends

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

Tag: Blow Job (Page 1 of 7)

Two Years On (Part Two)

19 April 2026 / / 1 Comment

The free-use men had decided they wanted allocated second wives with additional fucking rights, to move the free-use on to another level. The plan, which had been modified by Rose and Tanya’s husband to include Helen and her husband, was put to the women to agree. We decided we ultimately would agree, but we decided to push for more, decided that we wanted more. Our price for the second wife plan was to further increase the number of men available to fuck us. Tanya was the main driver of this, wanting her average 2½ fucks per day to be more like 4. And to think she’s the one we thought was most likely to drop out of the free-use group. Not any more!

The reality of the situation is that the men we have can’t fuck us more. They do amazingly well, and their use of softer cocks for non-orgasmic penetration is inspired, and really helps to increase the feeling of use, but there is no more left in the tank for hard cock heavily cumming fucks. So, us women floated the idea of associate members, men who are without women themselves and who would have free-use rights over us. They are a second tier (but still have the right to interrupt a man fucking his own wife), and because they are without their own women, we hoped they would fuck us hard and often.

The men certainly weren’t against the idea, and in fact, Rose’s husband reminded us of a couple of other discussions we had previously had that would fit the associate member bill, only this time, they were women.

The first was 19 year old Ella, the one from our Christmas party, the one my husband has already fucked a number of times over Christmas, as have Anna and I. She loves sex, but not relationships, and boy is she a great fuck. After that Christmas session, she offered, perhaps once a month, to waitress for one of our evening soirees with all of us and be available for free-use at that event, wearing her tiny waitress outfit from Christmas. Then, perhaps also once a month, making herself available for a day of free-use. She’s a busy hard-working student who wants a good grade, so is unable to commit to a more full-time free-use arrangement. The men loved the idea of nubile young flesh, the women not so much, but as I pointed out, we either like the associate member idea or we don’t, we can’t pick and choose.

Last year, we only made a small change to the free-use. We introduced a monthly men’s night and a women’s night (on the same night). For the women’s night, three of the four women were together, and we would spend the evening having sex with each other, with the only rule that we had to have the same number of orgasms as each other (and at least the number the men rolled on a die) and we weren’t allowed to work on our own bodies, only the other women.

The fourth woman (on rotation) had an entirely different night ahead. She was at the men’s night, restrained, gagged with my ball gag, and free for the men to do whatever they wanted with. A kind of tied-up mini gang bang really.

I only mention this because as part of the Ella plan, I suggested we grant another men’s night and women’s night once a month, but this time, once every month, Ella is the one restrained and gagged, whilst all 5 of us women give each other orgasms, and Ella should be invited to our other women’s night, so while one of the wives was the one restrained, Ella would join the other four for the orgasms.

The other woman on offer was somewhat more practical. Rose was going away for about eight weeks in the summer, and her oldest friend Poppy had offered to come to look after Rose’s husband, “to do everything Rose did for him.” Her husband took that to mean sex too, Rose assumed not, but it turned out she did mean sex, so, Rose told her sex would mean having to do the free-use thing with the other men several times a day, as well as fucking her husband, doing the women’s night and a men’s night too. Poppy quite simply said that if Rose normally did it, she would too. Rose actually felt quite exposed telling such an old and dear friend so many details about her free-use, but she knew it had to be done, she knew she had to get Poppy into the free-use community when Rose was away.

Having agreed to the associate members of both sexes, the men introduced one final thing to the discussion, Submissive Sodomy. I’ve mentioned it a lot recently, I get sodomised every day to keep me in that submissive head space I need, that sodomy where I don’t cum, where I need to not be allowed to cum. By definition, Free-Use is submissive, and Rose and Anna have been feeling it for a while, and even Tanya, until recently resistant to the idea of being submissive, has finally accepted it. After discussion between my husband and Rose’s, her husband decided a while back to sodomise her in the same way as I get it. And seeing the effect it has on me and Rose, Anna decided she wanted it from time to time. Now, only Tanya never has it. The suggestion was all five of us women should have it every day, should be sodomised without cumming first thing every day. Anna agreed without hesitation, but Tanya objected, only agreeing once it was pointed out that she’d get the extra sex she required if she just agreed to be sodomised daily. I think the sodomy will do her good anyway, even if she doesn’t believe it right now.

So, the whole package, the second wives, the submissive sodomy, Helen and her husband, Poppy including free-use and a men’s night, Ella and the second men’s night (and women’s night, waitressing and two twelve hour free-use sessions a month rather than one), and three as yet unidentified men, was approved, to begin on our second free-use anniversary. Assuming Helen and her husband, Poppy and Ella all agreed, you understand.

Tanya and I went over to see Helen almost immediately. She was ridiculously excited and agreed right away, to everything, even the submissive sodomy which her husband thought would be good for her, and her husband agreed to the whole package by phone right then and in person the following morning. Whilst we were doing that, Rose rang Poppy, and they agreed the whole swapping places thing, including the free-use, the submissive sodomy and everything else that went with it. And Anna went and found Ella, studying, and persuaded her to do the extras from her initial offer, one group evening, one men’s night, one women’s night and at least two twelve hour free-use sessions a month, and trying her luck, she threw in a couple of unrelated submissive sodomy sessions too. Ella said yes. To all of it.

So, with everyone agreed, us women set about identifying possible men. We didn’t want to go and indiscriminately ask, as we didn’t want to cause a scandal. So, we had to be careful.

The first one we came up with was a widower about our age, who had been alone for a few years, but had come to the same conclusion as Ella about relationships. So, we thought he might like some no strings whenever he needs it fucking.

The second one was the local farm hand. He’s 18 and seems to treat women the same as breeding cows. Us free-use women like a bit of no-holds-barred breeding, and he does seem to like women older than him, so we hoped our offer would be appealing.

The third one was the local postman, the same postman that my husband had already given groping and sucking rights on my tits. He is divorced, and the enjoyment he gets from my tits made us think he would enjoy the fucking. It turns out over the years, he had fucked Anna and Helen before, Helen quite recently whilst her husband was away for work (with his approval), Anna not long before she joined the free-use community, and they both said he was a decent fuck. Tanya had given him a couple of blow jobs over the years, she told him it was to say thank you, but in reality, it was because she just needed a cock in her mouth.

There were other male options, but for one reason or another, they were ruled out. Tanya wanted her extra sex, to be fair we all did. So, we decided how to go to each of them to sell the idea.

I asked the postman whilst he was giving me a good tit grope. He took absolutely no convincing to sign up, although he did insist that his morning tit gropes would remain unchanged.

Rose told the farm hand that we all needed properly and regularly breeding, and that sold it to him, somewhat easier than we thought.

The one who took some convincing was the widower, a lovely man who was just looking for company. What finally made him say yes was the fact that there were five or more women to give him some company, and the whole point was that we’d fuck him when he wanted it, no questions asked, no refusal.

So that was everyone, and all the plans. Five couples, two female associate members, three male associate members, second wives, the lot. We decided to introduce Helen and her husband into the group with a weekend away with all five couples, and then introduce the associate members at an anniversary celebration party the following weekend, and Ella offered her own black fishnet stockings to go with the slutty waitress outfit I made for her for Christmas, just the super slutty look I wanted for her. This was all so exciting, and to celebrate, our future second husbands (and Tanya’s on Rose) gave us long slow deep anal, followed by us sucking their cocks clean in an ass-to-mouth act that felt really dirty. We were indeed moving the free-use onto another level, and not one of us could wait.

Thoughts of Mauled Tits and a Cum-filled Throat

28 March 2026 / / 6 Comments

That my husband gave daily use of my tits to our postman as a reward probably shouldn’t surprise you, given what I want from my submissive life, and given how my husband is looking for opportunities to embrace his inner dom.

That the postman thoroughly enjoys his time manhandling my tits (and later manhandling and sucking them) probably shouldn’t surprise you as well. I mean, who wouldn’t enjoy being able to freely grope, squeeze, suck and generally misuse and mistreat a wonderfully fleshy pair of 34Hs?

That I enjoy him doing that, that I look forward to him doing it, that I want him to do it and that I want to feel the results of him manhandling them long after he has left really shouldn’t surprise you, if you’ve read my blog a lot.

I mean, the clues are there.

The fact that I love it when I’m being fucked with lots of movement and the rhythm makes my tits snap backwards and forwards, when the rhythm makes my tits ache or even hurt from that violent movement. I’ve loved that for years, and in my braless present, I love how frequently I end up feeling their movements long after those movements have ended.

The fact that I love men trying to milk me, even though there is no milk to give, and even though that milking action is really uncomfortable for a milk-free pair of udders like mine, again really shouldn’t surprise you.

But I think the thing that might surprise you is the zeal, the relish I have for his tit-mauling sessions. The desire I have for them. The need I am developing for them. God they are so good. As my husband put it, “your tits are being used to give people pleasure, and that is what they are there for”.

That my husband’s colleague enjoyed me draining of his balls really shouldn’t surprise you.

That my husband offered him my mouth to drain them when they hadn’t been drained for a while again probably shouldn’t surprise you.

But that I did it with such vigour, such style, such over the top dramatics may have surprised you, that I did it with a man I didn’t know with such enthusiasm may well have surprised you.

I’ve never given a random person I didn’t know a blow job before. For the record, I have let random people I don’t really know grope my tits before, quite a bit really. I’ve always loved my tits being played with, being the centre of attention. But a random person blow job is a new thing. And you know what, I’d have had his cock drain into my cunt if my husband had wanted. That is where I am now. My husband didn’t want that, just my mouth. I swallowed and swallowed with all the enthusiasm in the world. That poor man needed his balls drained, and I drained them, properly, completely, in a simple act of helping a fellow human. But I drained them with panache and style. I drained them in a way he wouldn’t easily forget.

It was afterwards whilst I was pondering what happened that I realised that, in the same way as I’m developing a desire for tit-maulings, I’m developing a desire for full loads of cum in my mouth and in my throat, a level of desire way more than I’ve had before and this is a dilemma for me. Because, especially for my husband, I want his cum in my ass and in my cunt, and the same for the free-use people. So I came to the realisation that my increasing desire to swallow cum, to roll it round my mouth and savour it, will have to be sated by random other people, rather than the people I fuck already. That’s one for my husband to work out. One great advantage of being a sub – this becomes someone else’s problem!

I think my husband thought these two little tasks he required of me were a bit tame after the free-use. But actually, I don’t think either are tame. Being instructed like this feels different from the free-use. It’s the being instructed part that really gets me going. I’m a Sex Slave, I’m a Good Girl, and I do what I’m told. I want to do what I’m told. And let’s face it, I’m going to love a mouth full of cock, love a throat full of cum, love an aching manhandled tit.

In my previous life, when I wasn’t a sub, my husband would never in a million years have told me to let someone grope and manhandle my tits, he would never have told me to give a gulping sloppy blow job to someone I didn’t know. If I had asked, he’d probably have let me, but he would never had told me to. But that was then. This is now. Giving blow jobs to someone he wants me to is now. Letting someone manhandle and mistreat my tits is now. Raw usage, raw submission. New for me, and perfect. Exactly what I want. Exactly what I need.

And the pure joy of these acts is that there is no particular reason for me to do either of them, for no other reason than to make me do sexual stuff with new people, for no reason other than to fill my throat with a massive load of fresh cum or to make my tits ache with manhandling, for no reason other than to make his wife demonstrate just how much of a slut than she really is deep down.

There is a simple joy and pleasure in these acts, made kinkier by being performed by order on people I barely know. There is no meaning in it, just a man getting joy from my tits, and a man getting his balls drained in an eager and thorough way.

I’ve never been into meaningless fucks, but these two simple acts have really lit a fire under me. I’ve begun to really appreciate those meaningless sexual acts, to see them for what they are and to enjoy them. And I fully realise that more of these will come. In a life where free-use is the norm, in a life where fucking is several times a day, those random acts of submission are likely to be meaningless, likely to be demeaning, likely to be with people I don’t know much.

We all need sex with meaning in our world (and I have plenty of that, what with my husband, Rose’s, Sara’s, my ex-boss, and Anna, Sara, Laura and Vicki), but not every sexual act needs to have meaning – sometimes a fuck is just a fuck, however it is organised, sometimes a blow job is just a blow job, whoever it is on, sometimes a tit maul is just a tit maul, nothing more.

So, you realise that I enjoyed these acts, but deep down, how did I feel about them? I thought I’d feel cheap, but really I didn’t. I enjoyed them. They didn’t cause angst in my world, I didn’t overthink about them. I just did the best I could, did what they wanted and felt great pleasure, both in being used and in making someone’s day better. I also felt slutty. But I like slutty, I love how slutty Mira feels. For me, feeling slutty is never a bad thing.

I think my husband felt my growing need, and vowed to give me more cocks for my mouth, more cum for my throat and more tit-maulings. He really knows how to look after a girl. I love him so much!

My Tits as a Reward, My Mouth Helps Out

21 March 2026 / / 3 Comments

My phone started ringing, and I picked it up and looked at it. It was my husband, and I answered it with a cheery greeting. He asked what I was up to. “I’m with the postman.” He knew what that meant.

If a normal couple want to give the postman a Christmas box, a thanks for a good year of service, they’d give them some cash, or some beers. Not my husband. He offered my tits, for our postman to look at and grope, to maul for his pleasure. All he needed to say was “I’ve got something for you to sign for”, and I’d let him in. Ideally, my husband wanted me to answer the door to him topless anyway, but if I wasn’t, I was to be very quickly after he came in.

I wasn’t sure he would use my tits in any way, but he bloody did, and my husband gave me specific instructions: I was to stand or sit exactly as he required, with a smile on my face and my hands behind my head unless told otherwise and let him to whatever he wanted to my tits, no questions asked.

There is a certain surreal quality about this man I barely know, who I answered the door to with my tits out, grabbing my tits and working them hard. He wasn’t there for long each time, but I certainly felt his manhandling of my tits long after he left.

So, he got his reward, and I got a bit of non-penetrative free-use. This was shortly after I realised that I didn’t just like submissive things, that I was a proper sub. I think it was my husband proving I was a proper sub, although I’m not sure who he was proving it to, him or me.

I didn’t know he was going to offer my tits, and in fact, neither did my husband. It was very spur of the moment. On the fateful day, I was topless but out of sight and my husband answered the door to the postie. And then, he invited him in!

So, all of a sudden, he could see me, naked 34H tits, which I knew better than to try to hide. I styled it out, not showing anything other than happy acceptance of the situation (which was actually true). I saw my husband’s smile as I carried on a perfectly normal conversation, just with my tits swinging as I moved. I saw the postie’s face too, less smile and more lust and it pleased me very much. I think my husband saw both the postie’s reaction and my joy and excitement, and that’s why he offered him access to my tits.

I put my hands behind my head, which made my tits stick out and he roughly grasped them, one in each hand, and gave them a good squeeze and twist. I moaned, a good moan, an encouraging moan, and he realised, mauling them, groping them, pulling at them, first working the fleshy part of my tits, before focussing on pulling, twisting and tweaking my nipples. He was rough with them. My husband saw and encouraged him, and I, being a good girl, a model sub, just let him do as he wanted with a cheery smile and some verbal encouragement.

And that was the first of many. More delivery days than not, he came in and mauled my tits. As if each time would be the last. On the odd occasions my husband was there, with me, whilst this man owned my tits, he could see how much the postman loved it, which I think is the reason he offered the postie the chance to use his mouth on my tits, again, whichever way he chose.

I can honestly say the hand mauling didn’t reduce in time, he loved that too much, but he added more time to get on his knees and lick and suck on my tits, virtually inhaling the nipples in, the same sloppy or dry choice I offer when giving blow jobs, and as a closing treat, my husband suggested the postie bury his face in between my tits and encouraged me to push them round his face, to squeeze them into his face.

And still, to this day, 4 months after the initial offer, he enjoys my tits at least three times a week, and I enjoy him loving them, I get a kick out of the simple pleasure he gets out of them.

That postie wasn’t the only one my husband got me to service unexpectedly. There was a work colleague, round to work on a project, and they took a break, giving their brains a chance to rest in amidst hard and long thinking. This time, my husband did give me a few hours warning. Before the colleague got to the house, my husband discussed my part in the day. I was to be topless all day, I was to serve them drinks and some lunch, if he touched or groped me, I was to let him (and he knew I’d enjoy it), and the final part, I might be asked to drain this man’s balls. Apparently, they hadn’t been drained for weeks and he was getting chippy at work. My husband connected the two.

But also, my husband realised I needed more cock in my mouth, and whilst the free-use men all used our mouths to warm up, very few times did they stay the distance and actually cum in our mouths, all preferring the lower holes to deposit their load. I wanted more cock in my mouth, I wanted to swallow more cum (good for the protein and vitamins apparently), I wanted more coatings of cum on my face (better than face cream apparently), and yes, he knew I’d even let someone get cum in my eye, up my nose or in my hair. I needed it that much, I needed to slut myself up a bit.

Before I admitted I was truly his sub, he would never have asked me to service anyone like that, but now I’m his to do with as he pleases, he could ask me to do something with someone new, and as I want to please him, I’ll do my best, each and every time. He knows I get a sub thrill from being asked to do this kind of stuff. Servicing random people really wasn’t me, but my sub side understands this is how it is now, and I’m rather enjoying being put on the sexual spot. That and this kind of sub service fills a gap I’m not naturally getting through the free-use.

So, I did the topless hostess thing, which is totally natural to me now, and other than the colleague ogling my swinging tits, nothing happened until lunch. As well as the food, they both ordered drinks, and then my husband added that his colleague needed a nice, long blow job as dessert, that he needed his balls emptying after weeks of them being ignored. I smiled, nodded and said “Of course.”, just grabbing his cock, circling it with my fingers and then pumping it a couple of times, before getting up to get their food.

Now I knew this man a bit, he was nice, so my husband was happy enough to share my mouth with him. And boy, did I go to town. With tits swinging, I gave him the longest, most teasing, tantalising, sloppy blow job I could manage.

At one point near the end, my husband crouched behind me and put his hand up my skirt, masturbating me to keep me going, to encourage me to finish him off, and the sight of me being wanked whilst sucking on his colleague’s cock made the colleague a lot closer to cumming.

Amidst the distracting masturbation, I got his cock so very hard, whilst squeezing and manipulating his balls, and when he did start to cum, I pulled his cock back, so only about half of it was in my mouth, and I almost kneaded his balls, extracting every single drop of his cum that I could get.

Once he was empty, totally drained, I leant back on my heels and sat, open mouthed, with a mouth full of creamy sticky cum, awaiting final instructions. My husband told me to spit about half of it out onto my tits for his colleague to lick off, and to swallow the rest, in one gulp and show my empty mouth afterwards. Once I had swallowed his cum, and he was making progress clearing my tits with his mouth (going back to clear my nipples of cum over and over, even though they hadn’t had any cum on them), my husband told me I was a “Good Girl”, and stroked my hair. I love that, I feel so proud when he says that, every time I go to jelly when he says that and he saw the love in my eyes as he played with my hair. My tits were still being cleared of cum, but I was so pleased. I felt like a proper sub.

When my tits were clear, the colleague grabbed each of my tits in a hand, squeezed them, and said thank you and how much he needed to be drained. I said he was welcome, any time, and I meant it. It is lovely to be appreciated.

As they left to go back upstairs to start work again, I heard my husband tell his colleague that I meant it, that my mouth was available whenever he needed it, and then, as they got further away, I heard him say my other holes are even better, but what I needed from him most was blow jobs. Even so, I had a feeling one day he’d get to try my other holes out.

The Sexualisation of Normal

14 March 2026 / / 4 Comments

I haven’t written that much about our free-use lifestyle, other than the big sessions, the parties. But free-use is my daily reality. Over the course of any given day, I’ll probably have sex with three different men, I’ll orgasm at least four times, at least once from anal, and aside from that, my cunt, ass and tits will be displayed and viewed, I’ll be groped and mauled, I’ll kiss loads, I’ll have cock in my mouth, all on their whim, on their timetable, and the result is that I am kept on a sexual high all day.

On Fridays, because I’m the only one of the four women who is available during the day (and the men are normally on end of week work from home days), I get much more free-use than that. All four men normally fuck me twice each, I’ll cum at least eight times, I’ll probably have anal four times and vaginal four times and then add all the other stuff in too. And that’s before I get to the pub to be fucked into the night by Carla.

Fridays are an ordeal. Fridays are a struggle. Fridays are so tiring, such hard work. Fridays are my favourite day of the week.

To really emphasise the use aspect, the men like us to carry on with what we are doing whilst they use us. Holding a conversation is hard, and quite often, if there are two or more women there, they’ll wait until we are deep in conversation, then someone will start fucking each of us. Two people whose thought patterns are being interrupted hold hilarious conversations, but we have to carry on. It is the epitome of free-use.

And I have to say that the fact that we can’t talk about the sex or anything free-use, while it’s happening or afterwards, is really quite hard. It just has to happen, unspoken, unmentioned.

I’ll quite often be cooking, and they’ll bend me over the kitchen work surface and fuck or masturbate me, whilst expecting me to carry on with the actual cooking. That’s not too hard perversely, just don’t try to follow a recipe. Being fucked whilst reading is hard, and I’ll probably have to go back and re-read those pages. Watching TV is fine, although I’ll miss bits. He’s taken to cradling me and masturbating me all the time I’m watching TV, not trying to make me cum, but if I do, he just ignores it and carries on.

This is one of the big parts of free-use for me: the sexualisation of normal. They fuck me whilst I do normal things, like converse, write, type, cook. I get fucked doing things other people do not get fucked doing.

I think the conversation fucks are the most incredible. Making me feel both important and valued in what is said and a sexual object at the same time, valued and subjugated at the same time. To make one feel both valued and cheap in that moment is quite the gift. That normal people can have a conversation without being fucked, and often I can’t, really keeps me deep down submissive. That I can’t watch the TV without being masturbated really keeps me deep down submissive.

That and almost always being topless, pantyless and wearing a very short skirt at home, so that I am not only available for use, but often visible and displayed, expected to be visible and displayed, proud and yet a constant reminder of what I am, a reminder to all us free-use women what we are.

The no panties thing I did years ago, to give him better access to my cunt at all times. The topless and short skirts at home is more recent, as we free-use women got more submissive. It is our version of a typical slave statue display, and allowing our usually hidden body parts to be displayed, consumed by the free-use men, it is itself part of the free-use. If the people in the room are in on the free-use, us women have to sit, legs wide, skirt up and not in any way hide our tits or cunt. We are to be consumed with their eyes, before being consumed in other ways. It adds to our subservient feelings, and is part of keeping us women on a sexual high.

I’m not allowed to adjust my clothes otherwise. If someone (for example) lifts my skirt up to display my ass, I’m not allowed to pull it down again, unless someone tells me to (or someone or gravity does it for me). If I’m clothed, I’m not allowed to get a tit out, but someone else can. My state of dress (or indeed undress) is totally controlled by others. It’s strangely freeing.

As well as not wearing panties, I haven’t covered my cunt for 8 1/4 years. So, no trousers / leggings / tights. I wear stockings and suspenders and skirts / dresses. (There are two exceptions, swimming (although we go to nudist swimming events as much as possible), and the odd sex act (like panty wetting, but that is as he requires and is for our mutual pleasure)).

Bras are a different matter. I have big tits. UK bra size 34H, US 34K. Until recently, I always insisted on wearing a bra to keep them in check. But I’m a sub now, and I’ve known for the longest time that he’d prefer I didn’t wear one most of the time. I wanted him to take ownership of me, and one of the consequences of that was to deal with bras. I now won’t wear one, unless he wants me to.

It feels a lot more sexual to me, going round without a bra, having them swing around and having my nipples show so much, visible and protruding under a blouse. On the odd occasions I do wear a bra, the bra will be one of the quarter cup ones I’ve had custom-made (as manufacturers don’t make them for my cup size), so even if I’m wearing a bra, my nipples are often visible. And my nipples react very strongly to rubbing on clothes, so they are now constantly enormous, hard and proud. It’s all a part of keeping me sexually aroused.

It’s a big change to not wear a bra at times, a massive change, like my massive tits, and being topless round the home and going out mostly not wearing a bra is new to me. And I very soon realised that attention I’d get with mammoth unleashed tits and nipples the size of bedknobs was plentiful and exciting. My husband has all my old bras locked away, like my remaining panties, and I have extremely large, slightly painful, very noticeable, massive nipples for my trouble. And my husband has been pointing out how magnificent a nipple piercing would look displayed on a massive nipple with a thin layer of fabric stretched over it.

I have done and continue to do exercises to strengthen my back, to allow me to maintain better posture with my tits unsupported for extended periods of time, and I wish I’d done them years ago. I used to believe locking up my tits was the right thing to do, but the free swinging and snapping of my tits, the slight pain in the flesh caused by a day of being unsupported, is wonderful. It sounds perverse, but I love it so much, and of course, I can’t hold on to them, can’t hide them, so gravity does its worst on them all day every day.

Honestly, I am truly happy when I go to bed with throbbing tits, a stinging ass, an aching jaw and a messy cunt where cum is sliding out of it. I am in total heaven when that happens, especially all that with him spooning me with a semi-hard cock residing in my ass crack and a hand firmly gripping a tit.

My friend Shae mentioned (on her blog slaveshae.wordpress.com) that our free-use is not a dom-sub arrangement, more of a free-use kind of polycule. It’s a fairly accurate description. When the penny first dropped about my being a full-time sub, I really struggled, precisely because it doesn’t fit within a standard dom-sub arrangement. I tried to crowbar it in, I went round and round in circles. Don’t get me wrong, my husband is a dom, he is gentle, steady sort of dom, born out of being a natural manager, but nevertheless, he has pulled all these little sub things I used to do into one, and he is very much in control of me, and that is exactly what I want, a warm hugging blanket, built on trust, with a man I would walk to the ends of the earth for, but a man who totally looks after me, a man who has my back, has my best interests at heart and a man totally comfortable with using his property however he wants. It feels pretty perfect right now.

But the rest of the free-use men are different. I liked Shae’s use of the word “culture”. The men have rights to us, to use us, to look, grope, fuck, whatever, one, two, however many at a time. I’m sure they are being a bit dommy when they take us, but I’ve talked to them, and they feel more like they are just taking what is theirs, usage by rule, and we have an expectation to be used that they have to live up to.

It’s the women that have been most affected. All four of us are very subby now, and that’s quite a surprise. We are all fairly strong women otherwise, businesswomen, entrepreneurs, good positive female role models. And yet, with the flick of a switch, we’re back being hugely subby, eager to sexually please. Switching between those roles is a bit of a head fuck to be honest. I have the journey home to switch into the correct mindset, and as soon as I get through the door, I have to switch into the correct clothing arrangement to finish the job.

And the other three women are on the same path, at some point along the journey. Even the one that was resistant to being subby has conceded that’s what she is and is embracing it. We didn’t expect that. That’s why I think this is permanent for all of us now. I really can’t see how any of us can back out of this.

We women are not lower in status because of the free-use. We are still equal partners, still equal friends, still valued, still important, still with the same status we always had. It’s just that certain things we’ve signed over to others. Doesn’t lower our status, just changes our mindset and behaviour.

The sex, the control, the masturbation, the display, the relentlessness, the orgasms, the clothes, the penetrations, the carrying on what we are doing is all a part of the free-use experience. The more we’ve done it, the more things like display and masturbation we’ve added in to something that at the start was mostly about penetration, the more overwhelming and all-encompassing it has become, the more intense our experience is. The men have completely sexualised normal.

And we are about to make our free-use bigger and more intense, more sexual. And every single one of the women can hardly wait.

His Late Night Panties Girl (Part Three)

27 February 2026 / / 0 Comments

Louise was bending over the university desk of my now husband, her arms folded on the desk, her tits swinging, his cock between her legs and buried deep in her cunt, fucking her with a perfect rhythm and a determination she admired.

She laid her head on her folded arms and settled in for the duration, her eyes looking at the mirror switching between her swinging tits and watching him drive into her, watching his muscles tense. He wasn’t quite rubbing where she needed, but she was pretty certain that was deliberate, that he was extending their fuck, as she knew if he got the position right, she would cum in seconds. But even without the rub, it felt soooo goood. Over and over, on and on, in perfect rhythm, he fucked her with power and style, her feeling his cock get even larger still filling her cunt and then making it feel cruelly empty, but only very briefly.

She felt a tiny bit of a throb, and felt him switch positions, only a few millimetres, but that was enough. He was hitting the spot. She knew it. She knew he was deliberately holding back. But she was ready. She wasn’t going to delay cumming any more. Those rubs were massive, they were perfect, they made her cunt start to clench in about 20 seconds, and as she clamped down on his cock as she started to cum, that clench made him spurt too. Over and over she came, and over and over he spurted, filling her cunt with him gooey cum, mixing with her flavourful cunt juices.

As his cock shrank out of her cunt, her tits were still oscillating a small amount, the result of the residual vibrations of their fucking.

He stood her up and they kissed, then she pushed him onto the bed and knelt with her legs either side of his head, but this time facing away from his feet, her cunt firmly locked over his mouth. As she looked down at him, with a big smile, she saw determination in his eyes, as his tongue started work clearing her cunt of their combined liquids, whilst all the time still looking at her tits. Those adoring looks and the previous manhandling made Louise love her tits.

Once she had enough of being licked out, she shuffled down his body and leant forwards, her arms locked straight holding up her body, her tits swinging almost touching his mouth. He didn’t need any asking, as she rocked slightly to her left, his hand brought her tit to his mouth, his tongue circling the nipple as his hand grasped and squeezed at the fleshy tit. After a few minutes, she rocked right, her nipple being cruelly ripped from his mouth, only to have another one hanging very near. His other hand repeated the torment of her tit as he sucked on her other nipple.

When her arms could take no more, she sat up and reached behind her body and felt for his cock, which was hardening nicely. Good, she wanted more cock, and since it had just cum, this time it would be a very long fuck. Exactly what she craved.

She got off the bed and knelt down next to it, her head leaning in to his cock, taking his hardening length in her mouth, her tongue tasting their juices, her head bobbing up and down, getting his cock just as hard as when he penetrated her those minutes ago.

When she took her mouth off his cock, he twisted on the bed and beckoned her to lay on it. After she did, he put his hand in between her legs and nudged it under her ass, lifting her lower half by her ass to position her exactly where he wanted. Then, he moved up the bed, holding his weight off her body but nudging his cock against her very slick messy cunt. She used one hand to part her cunt lips and the other to manoeuvre his glans in between them.

Pausing for a moment, he looked at her face. Her smile had gone, replaced with a lusty look in her eyes and a determination, almost willing him on. He needed no more encouragement, he just slammed into her cunt with all the drive he could manage, her empty cunt being quickly filled by a hard girthy cock. Her body moved up as he slammed, and she grunted as his motion was stopped by her body. He pulled out and slammed in again, each time her body moved a tiny bit, but rocked back as he withdrew.

She saw his eyes switch down to her tits, which were moving on a slight delay from her body, snapping up as her body stopped moving upwards and down after it returned to normal.

After about three dozen of these slams, he stopped, adjusting his arms so they were by her side between her body and her arms. They kept her tits from flopping sideways, so that as he lowered himself towards her face so that he could kiss her, her tits squashed against his chest. After one quick peck, he began rhythmic thrusts again, not slams this time, but nevertheless, making her cunt feel very full and then very empty with his cock. The kisses got longer and more frenzied, as their bodies connected by kissing, tits on his chest and cock in her cunt, three points of contact that really emphasised their whole bodies during this fuck. And they were both comfortable, so could maintain this fuck for ages.

She could feel her orgasm starting to build, and the relentlessness of his rhythm and the frenzy of his kiss meant the orgasm caught her by surprise, coming from nowhere to a flood in seconds. He broke rhythm to resume the slams, each slam milking a bit more orgasm from her, and when her orgasm subsided, he recommenced fucking to the rhythm, kissing like it was their last kiss, tits held up rubbing against his chest.

She almost immediately felt another orgasm building, but her cunt was sensitive now, and she really needed to get him to cum at the same time. She began squeezing down on his cock as he drove in, an action that was only going to reduce the time it would take her to cum, in the hope it would do the same to him.

And it was working. With each squeeze, she felt his cock get bigger and harder, she heard his breaths get shorter and shorter. Her focus on him meant that she didn’t realise how close to cumming she was, and when it broke, she cried out, clamping down on his cock, making it squirt cum. With each wave of orgasm, she clamped and released his cock, milking more cum out of it each time. He squirted twice more after she finished, all whilst kissing her.

They maintained the three points of connection whilst his cock was shrinking, and then, exhausted, she moved over on the single bed, and he lay down, leaning on the wall to give her a tiny bit more room. He put his arm round her as she snuggled into his body, and they both soon drifted off into a deep sleep, her thinking about how many times she’d have him fuck her, and also just a tad worried all this fucking would get in the way of their revision. She wanted her first.

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