The Sex Lives of KinkyMira and Friends

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

Tag: Cunnilingus (Page 7 of 9)

A Cottage, A Rug and A Paula (Part One)

23 May 2020 /

It was a difficult autumn last year. I didn’t know I had gluten issues to explain feeling unwell, and it has been quite an eventful few weeks, so we decided to take a week out in a holiday cottage to relax, unwind and fuck. Victoria came for a couple of days at each end (over the weekends), and we had a few days without her in the middle.

One of those middle evenings was taken up meeting a friend called Paula. She is actually an ex-friend with benefits of my husband. They were thrust together when they were each being bullied by their bosses at work. They supported each other and ended up fucking rather a lot, before they each moved on to other companies and Paula moved out of the area. That was eleven years ago (before I was with my husband), but she made contact with him in February last year.

She had split up with her husband after a pretty awful marriage and I think she was hoping for some sex. But instead, I became friends with her too. She is lovely, about seven years older than my husband, but very fit and I had to admit I’d have liked to have got inside her panties myself. But clearly, she was struggling. I did offer to lend her my husband to fuck her, but the idea seemed to blow her mind. We’ve met up a number of times since, and she has turned into a really good friend, but nothing sexual had occurred.

As the cottage where we were staying is only about fifty minutes from her, she popped over on the Tuesday evening to see us. We were going to go out for a meal. Sex didn’t even cross any of our minds when we organised it.

When she arrived, we had the log fire raging, and she hadn’t been there long when we brought up the thick rug in front of the fire, and we mentioned how the landlady told us she had several rugs so one was washed after each set of guests (without mentioning why). We all knew it was because people fucked on the rug, and we took no time in doing so ourselves when we first arrived and with Victoria. It was so soft and welcoming, and we used it a lot in the days before Paula arrived.

When we spoke about the softness, Paula got up and lay down on the rug, closing her eyes in happiness, and saying how fabulous it felt and how amazing it would be to be fucked on it. She parted her legs an inch more than they were and she looked at us each in turn.

In my kinky mind, that was an invitation, and my husband looked at me with a naughty sparkle in his eye that said he did too. He nudged her legs slightly further apart, and he knelt down in between them, as she looked across at him with a little smile.

Calmly, he gently took the front edge of her skirt and lifted it up past her waist. All she was wearing underneath was the tiniest black lace thong. There was no sign of hair anywhere either on or between her legs. He looked across at me and I winked at him before we looked back down at Paula. She looked happy with what he had done so far. He hooked a finger on either side of the waistband of her panties and he pulled them down. She gently lifted her ass off the rug, whilst he pulled her panties over her cheeks, then she dropped her ass back down to the floor as he took her panties all the way off.

He rolled them into a ball, held them to his nose, inhaled her aroma, and then he threw them to me. Paula looked at me as I did the same and seemed to take that as assurance that I was happy with events.

I carried on inhaling her scent from her panties, as my husband began stroking up and down her cunt, which was presented in the hamburger style. She really has the lips for it, with just the right amount of puffiness to make her cunt look edible!

She looked very content as he stroked from her clit to her perineum, and then she looked between us both and said “I had an MOT this morning, like he and I always used to. It is in my bag.” and she nodded in the direction of her bag. Still inhaling her panties, I pulled out an envelope and had a look at the results – she was disease free and already had a coil to stop pregnancy. Even more important though was the fact she had the tests done at all. That demonstrated intent. Sex may not have crossed her mind when we organised this, but it did before she arrived, and she came here to take me up on my offer; she came here for a fuck.

I told my husband she was good to go, and he started dipping his fingers into her cunt. She looked contented to finally be getting some genital attention, a clear seven months after first making contact.

“Paula here” he started saying “used to like having her asshole licked but didn’t like any more anal penetration than a tongue”. She nodded, but had her eyes closed, seemingly focussing on his fingers. “But she has a very juicy cunt” he continued, as Paula giggled a little. Sweet and endearing.

I noticed his voice was very soothing and mellow, in stark contrast to when he calls me a slut and hurls me onto the sofa for a raw fuck. This girl needed wooing. This girl needed soft velvety comfort, and he was supplying it.

He moved his hand so that his thumb was on her clit and all four fingers were moving in and out of her cunt. Her body was starting to wriggle and shake, as his hand worked her clit and cunt more intensely. She occasionally lifted her ass off the rug as she strained against his hand, and she got louder and louder as she got nearer to cumming. I looked at the concentration on his face as he tended to her, and she started to cum, yelling as she did, and he kept doing occasional small shudders with his hand to milk her orgasm to the end.

Once she stopped cumming, he withdrew his fingers and sucked her juices off them. I was hoping for a taste, but I wasn’t disappointed with what he did next. He raised her ass up on a cushion, then leant over and had a few licks, commenting to her that she tasted as good as she ever did, and then he offered me a chance to taste. She looked at me and smiled. I wanted to dive in with a full Vicki style tongue examination, but remembering his gentle approach, I use slow deliberate strokes with my tongue. She did indeed taste wonderful, and my tongue slowly hoovered up all her juices that it could find. But before I had finished, my tongue action had started her hips moving again, and although my tongue was starting to tire, I realised there were more orgasms in her right now and I focussed on getting her closer. She came pretty hard when he fingered her, but I really wanted to make her cum again really hard – I love the juxtaposition of a sweet woman who loves to be wooed letting herself be brought to a massive continuing orgasm in an unrelenting way, and I was the unrelenting woman to get her there.

Victoria’s Discovery Of Cake Sits

5 May 2020 /

Why on earth does sitting my cute pert ass on a perfect pink creamy sponge cake feel so good? I had absolutely no idea that it would.

Hi, it is Victoria again, and I’ve spent the last fortnight trying to get my head around why such a simple act feels so amazing.

I mean, there is so much going on in this one act. You’ve got the fabulous squelching and oozing (with something that feels perfect for that), you’ve got the destruction, the ass imprint and the ruining of the perfect princess thing all rolled into one perfect act.

Just thinking about the oozing and squelching, of how the cake felt in my ass crack and oozing its way into my cunt, makes me ready to cum by thought and memory alone. I’ve never been that excited by an act I’ve done ever.

I love the opulence and exaggeration of the swirls of fluffy pink icing, and how it feels as I lower my spread ass onto it. I love how the icing round my asshole feels like it flutters as I fart on it. I love the stickiness and how it seems to glue the cake to my cunt and ass, and it is that same stickiness that allowed Mira’s husband to stick large amounts of squashed cake to my tits.

My 32GG tits can also be described as pendulous, and in a similar way to Mira, her husband loaded my tits with cake. He knows me well though, and he knows how I love for my tits to feel they have had a workout. I love them aching from where they’ve been swinging backwards and forwards and if he can make them swing quiet viciously through the motion of my body, then he does.

It is the reason why when I use the exercise bike (which I have been quite a bit in the last few weeks) that I’m topless, as I love the way my tits snap side to side as I peddle. (For the record, Mira, quite sensibly, keeps hers strapped down on the odd occasion she uses it).

So, having loaded my tits up with cake, he presented his cock to my mouth, and had me suck it, and as I moved backwards and forwards, my cake-laden pendulous tits swung backwards and forwards in an amazing way. The extra weight made a lot of difference. As well as dreaming about having my tits heavy with cake, I’m wondering about other ways of adding weight to my tits.

Whilst I was sucking on his cock and my tits were viciously swinging, I orgasmed really quite hard, so later when Mira ate the cake from my cunt, she got to eat cum soaked cake. She did give me a little to taste though and it tasted divine.

The whole thing was a sensory and emotional treat, and certainly wouldn’t be my last time doing any of it. I’m really glad that they chose to leave my cake sit until right at the end of Cake and Cunnilingus Day, as anything after would have been an anti-climax.

I didn’t get a lot of sleep that night. I was trying to work out why it was so good, masturbating at the memories, and wondering what other foods may feel great when sat on.

As I reminisced, I remembered steam puddings, those upturned from a pudding bowl, vanilla ones covered is sticky jam and toffee ones covered in toffee sauce; they’d have to be cold rather than hot, but I bet they’d work well. I remembered the pink tray bake cake from school; I bet that icing which was sticky and held together as a sheet would feel amazing wrapped around my ass. I remembered upturned blancmanges but wondered if they might not have enough resistance. I then remembered trifle, and spent ages trying to work out if I could sit on a trifle. I so wanted to sit on a trifle.

I remembered chocolate éclairs, then mused that the cream would probably spray out of the ends. Then I remembered choux buns covered in chocolate and split around the middle and filled with cream. That was a probably more pleasing cream ooze pattern. And then I remembered profiteroles, a lovely big pile of cream filled chocolate covered profiteroles and I thought how lots of little jets of squirting cream might feel.

I am well and truly hooked. It was only a few days after that first cake sit, and yet I had already done another one. I found an original school canteen recipe online for the pink iced tray bake, so I modified it to be gluten-free and made one of those. I’m not sure what Mira was more impressed by – the fact I wanted to do another cake sit so quickly, that the pink icing stuck to my ass so well, or that the cake tasted exactly like she remembered from school.

A couple of days later, Mira’s husband returned from shopping with a couple of good sized éclairs. So, as we sat down for dinner, he lined them up with our spread ass cracks, and we lowered ourselves onto them. The cream did indeed squirt out of each end, but because we rolled onto them (front first, then rolling backwards), the cream at the front squirted onto our cunts. He caught the cream at the back in his mouth and swallowed it. We then had the rest of the meal with our sticky desserts under us, every small move creating squishing and sticky sensations in our ass cracks. We were in no hurry to reach dessert, but when we did, it was divine – each woman bending over the table for someone to eat the éclair directly from our ass cracks (I ate Mira’s and her husband ate mine). I really enjoyed that meal!

I made a couple of gluten-free cupcakes earlier on today. I did a massive pink icing swirl on each, and I took one into the lounge to show Mira and her husband. Mira stood next to me, peeled the cake case off the cake and stood admiring it in her right hand. They were impressed, especially with the icing. She placed her left hand at the top of my ass, then in one fluid movement, she took the cupcake and squashed it into my cunt, cupping around my cunt to collect any loose cake and then squash it all in. It was oozing deep inside me and was filling me with something fantastically squishy and sticky.

When she was satisfied it was all in, she took her hands off me and licked at the hand the cupcake was in. She looked very mischievous and very pleased with herself. I felt over the moon. Even slight movements made the cake ooze and squish inside me. I would probably have stood there for ever, but Mira’s husband reminded me Mira wanted to post this article today, so he suggested I should finish that, then he’d get me in the Queening chair, use a wand on my clit for a bit and then clean me out.

So here I am, cunt full of cake, feeling in sensory heaven, trying to stay focussed enough to finish this post off. It isn’t easy because the cake feels so good.

Influences and Progress

29 April 2020 /

I was genuinely concerned that I had permanently lost my desire for sex. Whilst I was ill, I had sex primarily because I wanted to feel close to my husband and Victoria and to make them happy. Normally I want sex for my own sake as well, for the penetration, for the genital contact and for the orgasms.

My husband did his bit to help my desire return by wearing his suit much more than usual. He’s a respectable senior manager and he looks fucking gorgeous in a suit. When he comes in from work wearing it, my cunt usually moistens up immediately and I have a desperate need for him to fuck me whilst wearing it. I’m glad we bought a machine washable suit, as it would become expensive to keep having it dry cleaned. Even though I was feeling like shit, I still needed his cock in my cunt whilst wearing the suit, so it got me having more sex than I might otherwise have done. Cunning, and brilliant that he found a way that worked.

As I’ve recovered, I’ve got my desire back with a vengeance; in particular, Vicki has really got me hooked on having my cunt licked, which is interesting as less than a few years ago (before meeting Olivia on holiday), I really didn’t like it being licked that much.

Vicki’s tongue is amazing: so gymnastic, so flexible, so strong, and so long. It always feels like she is digging her way into my soul, rather than merely licking my cunt. My husband has a great tongue and uses it well, but it has nothing on Vicki’s. I guess it is because she knows what works well on her own cunt, and therefore does that to mine. That, together with the agility of her tongue, makes for an utterly mind-blowing and deeply probing cunnilingus session. Vicki has had a lot more lesbian experience than I have; sure, I’ve been with a good number of women before and I’ve had and given some wonderful orgasms, but Vicki is much more about the experience, the whole package, the love making; “The Vicki Fuck Experience” I call it (she said I make her sound like a theme park ride, and what a ride she is!).

Whilst I was feeling down and melancholic, I was thinking about how fragile sexual desire is. Up until that point, I had always wanted sex and had always found sex when I needed it. In morale terms, it was absolutely crushing to not want sex. I forced myself to do some stuff, a lot of anal for my husband to enjoy and a lot of cunnilingus for Victoria to enjoy. At the time of each act, I did enjoy myself, but for some reason there was no connecting that enjoyment to desire.

When I was at my lowest, I thought a lot about all the people that helped me to get here. Obviously, my husband and I (and now Vicki) encourage each other, and he has been positive not judgemental when I’ve made “disgusting” suggestions, and I don’t think I have suggested anything that we haven’t tried.

But there are others who had a big influence on where I’ve ended up.

The first was my sexual education teacher at school. I was only fourteen, and here was this beautiful young woman teaching a load of girls about relationships and sex. She was body positive and sex positive, telling us about female empowerment and how women should enjoy sex too and how to go about making sex what we want or need. My family always treated sex as if it was disgusting, yet here was a positive role model teaching us how to enjoy sex. Here was somebody strong, sassy, sexy and eloquent, and she almost instantly became a role model to me.

I still have the book she gave us in the classes. Amongst the advice was to never trim or shave your pubes as they have an important function to perform. Our teacher did a really good job of selling this to us; we didn’t find out until just after leaving school that she began the day of that particular class with trimmed pubes and ended the day (in an act of rebellion) with her cunt totally waxed. She was my hero and my inspiration.

I still remember the key bits of advice that she gave us. Never say no when you mean yes, masturbate frequently to build up your stamina, and always wear your panties on top of your suspenders to aid a quick fuck. Three important pieces of advice, and I suspect that isn’t quite what the government had in mind.

A few years later, the latter piece of advice became useful, as I realised that tights brought on cystitis, and just what a cock magnet stockings were. The men I encountered loved fucking me with my stockings on, a love of sex whilst clothed that is still going strong today.

Getting my panties off wasn’t a problem; finding them or remembering to look for them was quite a challenge. I lost count of the number of pairs of panties I left in unfortunate places. My favourite was I left a pair drying on a radiator in an Indian restaurant; I didn’t have the nerve to go back and ask for them.

My boyfriend of the time was always taking them off me at parties, mostly to masturbate me, and when I looked for them later, they had gone. Someone had a nice present, but my bank balance was stretched with having to keep buying new ones. It really wouldn’t have surprised me if he was selling them to his mates. He was ultimately an abuser who I saw for what he was and dumped, but he was an important influence in that he took sexual activity out of the bedroom and into the public arena, something my husband has built on.

The next person who influenced me was a girl at college called Di. We were flat mates who quickly descended into lesbian friends with benefits. Neither of us knew what we were doing, but we found our way through trial and error. We ended up most nights snogging, cuddling, and masturbating each other, and she taught me how to really let go when I orgasmed, as before her, I was rather quiet and reserved. I would love to have a session with her now, as I have come on leaps and bounds as a lesbian lover.

My final influence is a guy I knew about a decade after Di, and someone I have mentioned before. He has a condition that makes him between male and female (in that he has a small but functioning cock and decent sized breasts). He presents as male because his wife and soulmate didn’t want to be a lesbian, but he was amazing with me with encouragement and advice, about who I am as a person, about sexuality and getting what sex I want, and not following convention. He taught me a lot about gender identity and presentation, about being bi and pan, about how wanting and craving sex and going to get it is a good thing, and he introduced me to a whole community of interesting people, a community my husband and I are still very much involved in today.

I have been very lucky to have a lot of good influences on my development into my kinky self, and into a person who is able to talk about and support others who have made non-mainstream choices. After all, that is what this blog is really about – being the sexual animal you want to be, not the one society expects you to be.

The Great Cake And Cunnilingus Day Cake Sit (Part Two)

22 April 2020 /

So, there I was, my cunt and ass embedded in a formerly pristine pink buttercream iced Victoria sponge, and it felt good, with all the squished cake in my ass crack and cunt, and I had just pleased two eager people by doing my first ever cake fart.

As I sat on the cake, it was sticky and squelchy and just felt amazing. I could have stayed sat for hours, but after I’d been sitting in it for a good while, it was time to feed Vicki some cake and time to feed my husband some cunt.

I lifted my ass up off the cake, and as my cheeks were being held open by the floor, when I lifted my ass up, my crack closed up and cake squelched out of it. I adore those cake squelching feelings. I gave my ass a little wiggle to make any loose cake fall off, and I looked back to see a lovely pattern of my cheeks and ass crack in the squashed cake. It worked better than I had hoped, and I made my husband take pictures of the cake and my cake covered ass.

Then I moved onto all fours, my pendulous 34H tits slightly oscillating as I positioned myself. My husband moved the flattened cake from between my legs and placed it to my side. Then he sat down to my side by my tits. He grabbed the hanging tit closest to him, picked up a handful of cake with the other hand and squashed it onto the lowest part of the tit, covering the nipple and all the area round it. This was new, but it was obvious what he was up to. He then added more handfuls of cake all round my tit until it was pretty well covered. He then let my tit go and watched it as it swung backwards and forwards until it naturally stopped, checking the cake wouldn’t fall off.

He then went round to the other tit and repeated the loading and squashing. After he had finished, he moved the spare cake away and took another admiring look at his handiwork and took a couple of photos. The extra weight on my tits accentuated their pendulous nature, meaning even small movements made for quite long periods of tit swinging.

Once he was satisfied, he lay down face up on the floor with his head just beyond my feet. Vicki positioned herself between my legs and his head, lowering her cunt to meet his mouth, and lowering her mouth to meet the cake stuck to my ass.

And thus, the simultaneous cake and cunt eating began. My husband commented later that Vicki’s cunt was already slick and dripping with juices when his mouth first made contact – clearly cake sitting and cake farts were getting her horny. Her mouth and tongue started clearing the cake off my ass, starting with the outside of my thighs and outer parts of my ass cheeks. She was clearly doing it deliberately to make me wait for her tongue to contact my cunt, asshole, and crack. That tactic usually works, but when there is squishing and oozing cake involved, I enjoy those feelings too, so was in no rush for her to stop them. I was also loving the swinging of my cake-laden tits, with every small movement I was making being accentuated by the extra weight.

Just before she was about to start on my crack, she stopped and started making loud noises. I was so engrossed in my squelchy mess that I’d completely forgotten my husband was working her cunt with his tongue, and she was clearly close to having an orgasm. I knew my husband would have speeded up to make her cum, and once that loud yell that signified her orgasm had happened, so she briefly paused before recommencing on my ass.  The challenge of Cake and Cunnilingus Day is that whilst she has cake, her cunt needs to be licked, so I knew that as soon as she started licking at my cake covered ass, he’d be licking at her sensitive cunt again. She appeared to not be in any rush though, with clear and deliberate movements with her tongue and mouth, moving down my ass crack to clear it of cake and icing.

My ass was a little sticky from the sugar and her tongue, but my cunt was still covered, and she was unable to reach my cunt with her tongue, so I needed to move. I got up and enjoyed the feeling of the cake squishing between the underside of my tits and my body. I stood admiring my cake-laden cunt and tits, and had him take more photos, all whilst she went to get a towel to protect the sofa. I sat on the sofa, with my legs wide and my ass hanging off the edge, my cake-covered tits resting proudly on my chest. After another couple of pictures, my husband retook his position and Vicki got herself comfortable over his mouth. The way she closed her eyes told me he immediately restarted licking (as the rules state, until she finishes her portion of cake, she can’t stop him licking her). She opened her eyes and they locked onto my cake covered cunt. She put her hands to my cunt and started slowly and deliberately opening the folds and licking her way round my cunt.

Fold by fold and with amazing precision, she cleared the cake and cream off my cunt, sucking away at my cunt and licking down my hole to ensure I was cake free. I shifted a little uncomfortably just as she cleaned off the last bit of cream – that shift is a sign that I was part way to an orgasm. Vicki clearly saw that and focussed on my hole and running her tongue round my clit. I started breathing heavily and Vicki was moaning in between licks – I correctly surmised that my husband was still licking her cunt and had her part way to another orgasm too.

It was a race between her tongue and my husband’s, and I was hoping she would win, as if he made her cum before I did, she’d probably stop and let my orgasm slip away. I need not have worried – her tongue was forceful and quick, and she made me yell out and cum about ten seconds before she yelled out with her orgasm. That was close.

She settled back away from me and sat looking lovingly at me. My husband got up and leant over me, kissing me with the taste of Vicki’s cunt strongly in his mouth. My tongue was very active trying to clear her taste from his mouth. When I broke his kiss, he smiled at me and asked if he was permitted cake. So that’s why he loaded my tits with it! We agreed that he was, and he set about diligently clearing my tits of cake, starting at the top, lingering over my nipples, and finished with the really squished cake under my tits.

Vicki and I were both very satisfied. I really enjoyed my cake sit, cake fart, and how he added cake to my swinging tits. I’d definitely want all three again. And then I remembered Vicki still had her cake sit to come. But right now, I needed cake, which meant I needed one of their tongues to lick my cunt. My husband volunteered his tongue and Vicki started feeding me squished cake with a spoon. I love Cake and Cunnilingus Day.

The Great Cake And Cunnilingus Day Cake Sit (Part One)

16 April 2020 /

This year (April 14th) was my second Cake and Cunnilingus Day and Victoria’s first. We had observed Steak and a BJ Day (March 14th), with my husband having his favourite sirloin tips with a massive pile of chips, mushrooms, and onion rings twice, and two blow jobs resulting in him cumming. My jaw was aching before we even started (thanks body!), so Vicki made the selfless sacrifice to start mine off for me, and I took over when he was already pretty hard. It only took a minute or so after her sterling work to get a mouthful of cum. As per blow job etiquette, we had to have tits on display, pulled up out of their bra and resting on top of it, and we had to show him our mouthful of cum before swallowing it and show him our empty mouths after.

My blowjob was at lunchtime with his first steak. Vicki repeated the exercise in the evening, when his body had had a chance to replenish his stock of cum. She licked her lips after downing his cum is such a sexy way I just had to dive in for a delicious long tonguy kiss.

Last year on Cake and Cunnilingus Day, my husband’s tongue was on its own, and it did a fabulous job servicing my cunt, but this year, there are three tongues and two cunts. Bear in mind that I had no intention of having my cunt licked less than last year, and I fully intended for Vicki’s to be licked for the same period as mine, so all our tongues would be busy.

My husband has been practicing and building up his stamina, and with two eager cunts to practice on, the amount he can carry on licking for is a lot better. Vicki’s tongue of course is amazing, and Vicki describes my tongue as quick, unrelenting, and deep, and she seems very satisfied from my efforts.

To add a bit of variety to our Cake and Cunnilingus Day proceedings, my husband decided that Vicki and I would each do a cake sit. He had become obsessed with cake sits since he found about Christina Aguilera burying her ass into a cake before we got together, although he was disappointed she was clothed, as in his mind, cake sits should always be naked.

I did the first one a few months ago mostly for his sexual pleasure but also as an act of Ass Worship, and I enjoyed it way more than I was expecting. I thought I would enjoy his licking the cake off my ass, but I got a lot of pleasure from the physical part of actually sitting on the cake, the tactile sensation of my cunt and ass meeting and then burying itself in something moist and squishy. The sensations of the cake oozing round my cunt and squeezing in my ass crack were amazing and I wanted to do it again almost immediately. I also took a lot of pleasure as I often do from the taboo nature and of taking a pristine cake and leaving a deep imprint of my ass in it – I really don’t know why I feel like this but it feels really good. The second and third time I did it was definitely for my pleasure (although my husband enjoyed watching and licking off the cake).

So, this was my fourth cake sit and Victoria’s first. She didn’t really know what to make of it, but I was so excited that she realised how much I got off on it. She’s always up for embracing something new, kinky, and taboo, so she was really eager to try it.

So, on this day, Vicki and I would each in turn plant our cute asses into a welcoming, soft, squidgy, creamy cake. After an extended period sitting in it, we would get up and present our asses for the other woman to lick the cake off, and remembering our rule about whenever a woman is eating cake, her cunt needs to be eaten too; my husband would eat that cunt.

Our plans for Cake and Cunnilingus Day were under threat for a while, but luckily the egg supply is good now, and I already had the rest of the ingredients from before the virus all started. So over Easter, in amongst our Easter related sex silliness, we made loads of cake. We’re good at baking, and at eating cake (and cunt for that matter).

We baked two cakes with the cake-sits in mind. These were multi-layer Victoria sponges (aptly named), layered with raspberry jam and topped with large amounts of elaborate pink swirls of soft buttercream icing. I chose pink because it brought to mind that whole princess aesthetic that I hate, and I can’t think of anything better to do with a bright princess inspired cake than to squash it and leave it imprinted with the shape of my ass.

So, when we were ready, I took up my favourite cake-sitting position, namely on my knees with my legs far enough apart for the cake to be placed. After the cake was positioned, I leant forward (to maintain my balance), and I used both hands to pull apart my ass cheeks. I loved the feeling of the cake squelching up into my ass crack, and this way, I really got to feel it. Also, as I stretched my ass, my little fingers pulled at the flesh either side of my cunt stretching it open a little too, as cake squelching into my cunt felt really good too.

I was only in this stretched position for a second before carefully lowering my ass to meet the cool pink swirls. The anticipation of what it feels like almost gets me off, but that first touch of soft icing on my body was divine. Then, as slowly and controlled as I could, I started applying my weight to the cake and it started squashing and I felt the oozing of cake and icing up my ass crack and into my cunt that I absolutely love. The control is important, as I don’t want to just destroy the cake, I want to see the formerly pristine cake with an equally perfect imprint of my ass and cunt in it – it is a visual thing as well as a sensation one.

When I was fully sitting down with icing and cake squelched up my cunt and ass crack, I relaxed, let go of my cheeks and made myself comfortable, and I was blissfully happy.

I looked down at the mess under and around me, and that made me excited. But it is the feeling of the squashed cake connecting with my cunt and ass that feels the best.

But I was about to make my husband’s day. Cake farts are a thing, and my husband had always wanted me to fart on a cake, as he once read a description of how the fart made the icing vibrate, and that excited him. He was about to get his wish!

For it to be a proper cake fart, my asshole needed to be surrounded with icing, and I could feel it was. So, when I was ready, and they were both looking and, in a frenzy, I let out a long controlled fart. I could feel the icing move, and he described how it flickered like a pond with wind blowing over it; in reality it was even better than he imagined. I had a massive taboo kick from it – as if it wasn’t taboo enough to sit on a perfect princess inspired cake, it was even more taboo to fart on it and know your lovers will have to eat it. What a rush!

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