The Sex Lives of KinkyMira and Friends

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

Tag: Cunt (Page 8 of 8)

Changing Thoughts On Consent

14 July 2019 /

Prior to being with my now husband, I very much believed in the strict implementation of consent. You know, fresh consent every time, no blanket, long-term, advance, or enduring consents can be given, you can’t consent when you are drunk (by definition), all that.

So, the night we got together, on about the fourth time he snogged me, he cupped my clothed breast as he leant in. In other circumstances, I might have objected, but I was so desperate for his touch. I had realised I wanted him a few months before, and I was so glad that he finally touched me even slightly sexually, and I was keen to encourage him. I had known him for a number of years before we got together, and in that time, he was the perfect gentleman. Never an inappropriate touch or word.

I also know from discussions before we got together that he was very aware of consent issues and was normally over cautious. I didn’t want him to be over cautious, I wanted him to touch me sexually without concern for whether I wanted it. I did want it. Whatever he wanted, I’d do it. Five seconds after our first kiss I’d have fucked him if he had wanted.

He left his hand on my breast for a couple of long snogs and a bit of conversation, and then he moved it off, and I was a little disappointed. So, after a short period, I moved his hand back onto my breast, the clearest signal I could give that I wanted it.

And he took the hint and touched my clothed tits and ass regularly over the course of the evening, as well as my hair and face as I looked adoringly at him. It felt so good. From that day to this (with some encouragement in the early days), he touches me a lot, mostly my tits and ass, but he also strokes me, my arms, my hair, my back. And my cunt, oh how he touches my cunt. To this day, his touch is electric and fabulous, and I crave it and miss it when he doesn’t touch me up for some reason. I used to see women getting groped by their men in shops, and I used to think they needed to get some self-respect and claim their bodies back, and now here I was desperate for him to do that to me (and he now often does). I feel like when he touches me publicly, he’s saying, “she’s mine, hands off” and that makes me feel very happy. My views on touching me up have definitely changed.

On the third day we were together, he kept popping round to my place during the day between appointments, and every time he did, I got my tits out for him to play with. (I think the last time I was a little too quick, and therefore would have flashed them at anyone in the street.) I was again encouraging him, making him want me more and feeling his mouth round my nipples and his tongue flicking across them was amazing. I knew he loved my tits from long before we got together, so I knew he would be only too eager to play with them and finally to get to suck on them.

Over the coming weeks, I consistently gave him the blanket consent message to touch me however he pleased and to do whatever he wanted with me. Now obviously on any given occasion, I could have withdrawn consent (even though I never did), but from a consent perspective, I was uneasy. I didn’t believe in blanket and enduring consent, even to someone you are married to, and yet that is exactly what I was doing: not just long-term non-specific consent but encouraging him to take me as he wanted. I was conflicted because I fucking loved the results, and I knew I should have been horrified.

As our relationship blossomed, he started to get more adventurous with me (and all without me explicitly giving consent). When he started putting his hand under my clothes and touching my tits or cunt, far from objecting and as an automatic reaction without giving it a thought, I opened my legs to give him better cunt access or leant forward to allow him to pull up my top and unhook my bra. When he started moving my panties aside to gain better access to my cunt, I encouraged him to work my clit hard. When he started removing my panties all together without asking or checking, I loved how owned it made me feel.

I’m not really sure he realised what he was doing, but he kept gently pushing the blanket consent boundaries, fucking me, and getting kinky with me as he wanted. I should probably have been horrified, but instead, I basked in the warm glow that blanket and enduring consent with him was the best decision I had ever made (often a short-lived feeling that was replaced with the bow wave of an orgasm).

I even told him that I expected him to fuck me when I was ill or drunk. I often want a fuck if I’m drunk, and because the consent situation is difficult if you are drunk, I made sure he knew he was to fuck me if either he or I wanted it. I’m not a very good patient (I get very down), so fucking me when I’m ill is important as it improves my mood and therefore improves my recovery. We sometimes jokingly call a fuck “my medicine” and him cumming in me “an injection”.

It’s not all one way either. I do similar things to him too. I regularly masturbate him to wake him up (before riding him to get his large cock cumming in my cunt). Luckily his cock seems to have a mind of its own, so I get to ride him when he’s ill, and he’s still able to be ridden when he’s a bit drunk (not massively drunk, but given how much he needs his car, he never gets that drunk). I quite often play with his cock and balls when we are cuddling up, or when he’s doing something in the kitchen.

You see, he had no such qualms about consent. For him, from the first time I played with his cock and balls, he made it very clear that I could do whatever I wanted, and we’ve proved that over and over again.

So, my thoughts on consent have definitely changed since being with him. I don’t believe you should hand permanent consent out to just anyone, but where your partner clearly demonstrates over and over again that they look after you and adore you, I have come to the conclusion that blanket and enduring consent is a good thing. I know if I say stop to him, he’ll stop. That’s all I need.

So, in short, I have broken my own rule and given him blanket long-term permission to fuck me whenever, wherever, and however he likes. I love being his plaything, I love not knowing what he’s going to do to me, I love just being used like a slut, often with him taking charge and just doing what he wants.

So, if I’m lying there and he wants to lick my cunt, he’s going to lick my cunt. If he wants to bend me over the arm of the settee and fuck me, he’s going to bend me over the arm of the sofa and fuck me, and I consent to it all, every last touch.

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.

Clothing Is Optional, Fucking Is Not (The Curtsy Chronicles – Part One)

8 April 2019 /

As I’m writing this, I’m sitting naked on a hotel patio in the glorious sunshine on the Atlantic coast of France, sipping a non-alcoholic cocktail. About ten minutes ago, myself, my husband and about a dozen other people were watching a Dutch couple fuck right there on the patio. That is what this place is all about.

I’ve read online about hotels where public sex is allowed, and I wanted to go to one, but really, I wanted one where public sex was expected, not just tolerated. I wanted a holiday that was a feast for the eyes, brain, and soul, as much as a chance for us to fuck in public and for me to indulge in my love of displaying my naughty self.

Finding information about such places online is quite tough. There are a number of hotels in the south of France, but we settled for this one on the west coast. Whilst in theory this place is clothing optional, I haven’t yet seen anyone (other than those who have just arrived) wearing anything more than a hat and sandals. Even the staff are naked – you only know they are staff by the collar they wear with their name and role, and their headgear which is fitting for their role.

This place has an amazing atmosphere. The rules are clear and well enforced, creating a safe environment. Anyone is allowed to watch, but no one is allowed to join in unless invited. No single people are allowed, but parties can include an odd number of people, so we could at some point take Victoria with us. You are expected to fuck publicly here, and if you didn’t, you may be asked to leave (although I would challenge anyone to be surrounded by so much fucking and yet not fuck someone themselves).

But here we are on our second day and we feel totally at home. We’ve already fucked in public six times (and that seems about average from what we’ve seen), and we have done a number of other public sexy things too. We think most of the forty or so people here will have seen us fuck at least once. We’ve seen about twenty other fucks as well as a number of other sexy things. There is a good sprinkle of anal in with the vaginal, and there is a good sprinkle of gay and lesbian sex too, all in a totally relaxed atmosphere. What is really nice is that there is very little alcohol here, as that reduces sexual capability. They have a lovely range of non-alcoholic cocktails, beers, and other drinks, meaning there is something nice for most people.

The hotel is set on a large private site in the middle of nowhere right by the Atlantic coast. It has a lovely private sandy beach with a shallow slope into the sea, allowing opportunities to fuck both in the sea and on the beach. There are some lovely gardens and woodland, for some slightly more secluded outdoor fucking, a big patio complete with outdoor beds, a large pool (again with a shallow end for fucking) and a large Jacuzzi. It isn’t as hot as the south of France (and that’s a good thing for me), and there are plenty of things offering shade for my poor body that is unaccustomed to being naked in the sun.

Indoors, there is a bar, a couple of lounges, a dining room, and an open space in reception, all with the odd bed and other sexual gear for more fucking choice, as well as private rooms where you sleep (with large balconies with glass balustrades and sturdy loungers offering a semi-private outdoor fucking choice).

Our first public fuck was just after we got here. We had been shown to our room, we’d stripped and gone for a walk round the site. We didn’t get far, as there was a couple fucking in the shallow end of the pool. We stopped to join the small crowd watching them – the crowd was lovely and applauded at the end. When they had finished, the woman, an American, curtsied and asked who was next, and a Norwegian couple stepped forward. As she laid in position in the shallow water, I leant into my husband and said we were next, and I watched intently as this muscular blond drove his cock into the cunt of his slim blonde blue-eyed woman. These aren’t long fucks – there is no need to foreplay as most of us are hot and primed all the time.

The Norwegians finished with a curtsy (I thought that wasn’t coincidental, and therefore must be a convention), we stepped forward and I announced this was our first fuck here (to a cheer). I lay in the water and grabbed his cock, which was already hard. I opened my cunt lips for him, and he just drove in. He knew my cunt would be slick from the visual feast that we had seen, and that I was ready to be pounded. It was quick for us, but it felt so good, having water gently lapping round my body and having his hard cock rhythmically drive into my cunt whilst having about 16 people watch us. He quite rightly sensed I was on my way to cumming, so he focussed on that action until I came, before changing to a different action to finish himself off.

We got a lovely round of applause as he helped me up out of the water, and as I too curtsied. No further couple followed us, so we joined three couples at a table to talk over our first of many non-alcoholic cocktails. Our attention was briefly caught by a couple standing at the bar – well he was standing; she was on her knees giving him a long and deep blow job. She’s certainly much more skilled at blow jobs than I am, and his cock was long enough that she needed to deep throat him a little, something she eagerly achieved. We applauded her as she got up and licked her lips (she smiled and did a little curtsy), as we got back to our discussion. That’s how this place is – everyone stops to watch the sexual activity, then carries on afterwards.

After we finished our cocktails, we set off into the woodland and soon heard some moans coming from deep in the woods. We followed the sound and arrived at a couple of people watching a couple fuck. She was bent forwards over a fallen tree with her legs wide apart and he was impaling her cunt from behind with motions that went from almost popping out to right in as hard as possible. She was slightly crying out with each drive, getting louder as she got closer to cumming, and she cried out as she finally came. That was another joy of this place, you could be as noisy as you liked, and she was. He left her bent over the tree, admiring her cummy cunt (as were we all), whilst she recovered enough to be able to curtsy.

I knew that we would return to that place the following day for me to take my place bent over the fallen tree. It is clearly a well-used spot, as there is no bark left on the tree, meaning it is smooth and comfortable to be fucked over. But we were starting to lose the light, so we set off back to the main hotel. It wouldn’t be long before my husband’s cock was ready to fuck again, and I was in the mood for another big audience. I already knew I was in love with this place, and what went on here, and we had only just started.

I Love The Word Cunt

25 April 2018 /

You may have noticed whilst reading this blog that I use the word cunt a lot here. It is my favourite word for so many reasons. It is so rare for a single word to be able to enrage, excite, upset, or offend – no other word can do the same. It is such a simple word, one syllable, crisp sound, straight forward spelling and yet it has so much power. Cunt is one of the few remaining words in the English language with a genuine power to shock.

I try to use cunt as much as I can both in the context of a vulgar word for female genitalia and as a term of disparagement, even though it is generally regarded as unsuitable for normal public usage. As a term of disparagement, it is second to none. Sometimes cunt is just the only adequate word to describe a person, it is the only word that contains the venom!

I realise that this is now the more common usage, but I think the word is best used for female genitalia. I use pussy in fairly polite company, but I use cunt as much as I can (including in this blog). I much prefer it. I love the way it sounds; I love the slight harshness of the word. I’m with those that think of cunt as a positive word, a badge of honour to be celebrated. I don’t subscribe to the belief that it is a disparaging term that reinforces a dehumanisation of women by reducing them to body parts. No, I’m proud of my cunt, and I’m proud to use the word cunt as frequently as I can without causing problems.

It is also the single word that gets my cunt instantly wet. My husband can lean over and whisper in my ear how he is going to fill my greedy cunt later on, and within seconds, I’m wet, horny, and looking for a way to get alone with him. It was the use of a whispered cunt that led to me removing my panties for him for the first time. It was the use of a firmly spoken cunt that led to me first opening my legs and letting my husband lick me. It was the use of a loudly spoken cunt that led to me being fucked over a fallen tree in a remote part of a forest. It was the use of a whispered cunt that led to the first time we fucked on someone else’s sofa.

I also use a lot of other cunt-based words and phrases. Firstly, vagina or vaginal are often inaccurate as terms which often should refer instead to a vulva rather than a vagina. That inaccuracy annoys me. I hate other euphemistic terms like snatch and clunge even more. I find vajajay to be mildly amusing, but don’t really use the term much. Pussy is the best of the rest, but I would happily use cunt exclusively if society would permit.

Secondly, the use of vaginal in phrases is inconsistent with the short crispness of the words anal and oral. Cuntal however is a term that is in keeping, and works seamlessly in all cases, (for example, anal sex, cuntal sex and oral sex). I specifically like cuntal and the cuntal region as they are clearly defined even if you have never heard the terms.

Thirdly, terms such as fuck are not specifically cuntal by nature. For us, a fuck could be almost any penetrative sexual act. (For example, if I’m going to fuck my husband, that means a strap-on buried in his ass). Therefore, to correctly specify the type of fuck, the word cunt is again better than vagina (e.g., ass fuck, cunt fuck and mouth fuck).

The first time I heard my husband use the word cunt was in the early days of our relationship when he said he wanted to do a cunt inspection. It felt so good to have him intimately inspect me in great detail, as I did (and still do) love any touch of him on my body, but I was also pleased by his use of the word cunt. When he saw the happiness and enjoyment I got from the cunt inspections, he added cunt maintenance (and later, ass inspections and ass maintenance too). We both still enjoy doing them all on a regular basis, and now we have Victoria, he has second opportunity for inspections and maintenance, and he sometimes has a cunt buffet (where he has two cunts available to lick at the same time and he can switch backwards and forward between the two). Unsurprisingly, he likes those!

As we are both very comfortable with the word cunt, we use cunt-based phrases regularly. He’s particularly pleased when I have a cunt leak; he loves the mixture of his cum and my cunt juice oozing out of my cunt given my pantyless state, especially when I am out and about. Where I can, I like to leave the mess for him to clean up, which he is normally eager to do. I’m not sure he realises the amount of willpower it takes for me to have a messy cunt, as historically, I didn’t really like being left in a messy state and would go almost immediately to clean up. He seems intent on making me have a messy cunt as often as possible, and all the practice is making it easier to leave it for him. He delights if I have a cunt pearl, which is the first drop of semen secreting from my cunt in a cream pie. He’s a very skilled cunt licker, after he was extensively trained in the task by some girls at uni. I also frequently do cunt skimming, where I wear no panties (obviously) and a skirt that is so short that you can see my cunt. I only do that in adult company though with people who will appreciate it.

There are so many other phrases that are just better with the word cunt. Cunt lips and cunt flaps are two I love (although I do use piss flaps in pissy contexts). Honey Cunt is a lovely crisp name for a dessert. My husband likes Cummy Cunt too, although that is more of a starter, and he often partakes of cunt gobbling, which is the act of viciously devouring a cunt.

We’ve also enjoyed cunt chugging, which is the act of pouring a beer or champagne into my cunt then turning me over to chug the drink directly out of my cunt, and afterwards, I would need to have a cunt flush, which is a good wash out with a douche or even shower attachment, a rare treat, but sometimes a necessity.

With the snow a few years ago, before I had my Mirena, the timing of my period was such that I was able to do a cunt slushy, which is when I sat in the snow and my period blood mixed with it, to create a pink slushy-like substance. That was fun, although rather cold! Previously, my period was never well timed, and I’d not been able to tick this one off the list before.

I have so many happy memories associated with the word cunt. I love the word cunt. I think it will be my favourite word for ever.

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