The Sex Lives of KinkyMira and Friends

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

Tag: Orgasm (Page 5 of 6)

They Think I Might Have Coeliac Disease

17 January 2020 /

It would explain a lot: why my health has deteriorated of late, why my health has been bad for 15 years, why I have all these disparate medical conditions seemingly with no common cause.

Over the last couple of months, my health has been getting worse, and I’ve been feeling less and less like having sex or being kinky. Not me at all.

My husband knows if I don’t have regular sex and intimacy, my mental health suffers, so he has fucked me every day (I insisted on it – I’m not letting our record go either), and kept me well supplied with orgasms, squirtings and spankings, but I certainly haven’t been on my full sluttiest form. Pain does that to you. Feeling like shit does that to you.

And I’m having to make myself feel worse for the tests. I’m having to crowbar gluten in at every turn to make sure the endoscopy gives a true result, and I’m struggling – it isn’t easy eating things you know will make you feel worse.

And I hate not wanting to fuck all the time. It really isn’t me. My husband has been an absolute star. He hasn’t pressurised me at all over the months, but when I’ve felt I could do something sexually, he’s jumped on it and made the most of it. We’ve been having anal most mornings first thing. Anal is the least painful position at the moment, and it made our challenge for the year quite easy too – we ended up doing 58% anal and 42% vaginal, smashing our target of more anal than vaginal.

But the most fabulous part of the last few months has been Victoria, who has been an absolute angel. What she signed up for was staying with us for Christmas and New Year (from 21st December to 6th January), a sixteen day fuckfest and our first experience of us living with each other for a longer stretch, rather than just weekends. After all, it is different living with someone for a longer period rather than just staying occasionally.

You see, it turned out that it wasn’t just me that was feeling our relationships deepening and our love growing. Vicki was slowly drifting away from Friends with Benefits and towards Live-in Lover, which is amazing because when we started, all she wanted was sex; she definitely didn’t want the whole relationship and partners thing. The live-in lover part was perhaps in more long-term thoughts, but we both saw a scenario where, at some point in the future, we all lived together, fucking liberally, and acting as love and support for each other.

Which is how we ended up here. Vicki had been down nearly every weekend for two months now, and it was still fabulous. So, it was time for a test, a solid sixteen day stretch of living together, when life would get in the way of sex. This is the only chance we had for a long test, so we had to do it. Of course, we had no idea my health would have a wobble, so it turned out it was a really good test of life getting in the way of sex

Over the sixteen days, Vicki made me feel very loved, with lots of cuddling, licking, sucking, and fingering and she made me orgasm every day, but it was with my husband that she came into her own. You see he fucked her a lot, over and over. Where we normally share him evenly, she mostly had him to herself. He was as relentless with her as he is with me when it is just the two of us. I don’t think she has ever been fucked by a man as frequently as in those couple of weeks.

And it was a joy to watch. Whilst I certainly wasn’t feeling sexy and didn’t want loads of action of my body, it was fantastic to be able to watch them fuck, to hear her scream with pleasure and to see the look on her face as he brought her to orgasm again and again.

You see very regular sex is very important for his performance. In our early days, my husband and I went through a patch of fairly irregular sex and sometimes only a couple of times a month and his cock didn’t stay as hard for as long, and his ability to cum multiple times almost went away. He turned mortal. But once we got back to every day sex, and then progressed to multiple times a day, he got his performance back, he got his longevity back and he got his rock-hard cock back.

I don’t want that slipping away again, so it was important that he got to fuck someone repeatedly in the break, so Vicki being here and craving cock was an absolute godsend.

Vicki got to see what having lots and lots of sex and kink was really like. Some people tire quickly of sex multiple times a day. Some get bored, some end relationships because of too much sex. It was not a trivial concern, especially in the context of my husband and me, who both seem to need more sex the more sex we have, and it has been like this for years.

I am happy (and very very relieved) that Victoria not only coped with the level of sex and kink, but she seemed to revel in it and crave more and more as time went on. Throughout the entire period, she never said no to sex, not even once. Regardless of how long it was since her previous fuck, how sore she was, or how tired she was, she always said yes. A slut after my own heart.

I think she has become addicted to the taste of my cunt, as we spent hours in my queening chair with her licking me out. I find it pleasurable, very relaxing and it makes me feel very loved. She just loves the taste of a nice juicy cunt, and seemingly mine. It reached the point that she had to use sex toys on me to keep my cunt nice and juicy, so she could carry on licking me. I didn’t complain – I loved the attention my cunt was getting from her tongue, so she could do whatever she liked.

I am so excited for the future. I have my coeliac test next week after which I can cut out gluten completely and hopefully can start to feel less shit. Vicki has rearranged some work stuff so she can spend more evenings with us in the run up to the test, which means I get to watch more amazing sex, my husband gets his cock suitably used and I get some TLC from my amazing lover.

I’ve had trouble writing since I’ve been so ill (in fact, my husband helped me a lot to get this post done). Having a cloudy mind is one of the symptoms of coeliac, so I’m hoping removing gluten allows me to focus again. I hope to be back writing blog posts more regularly in February or March. but above all, I want to feel less shit and more like the slutty, kinky, sex obsessed Mira I love being. Here’s to gluten being the answer.

Getting Closer (Part One)

7 August 2019 /

This was the day that I realised something had changed. I’d had plenty of girl-on-girl sex with Victoria before, but this was the day I realised it was more than just sex.

There had been a knock at our front door. I peered through the spyhole, and there was a smiling Victoria, looking radiant and happy. She was early. I wasn’t expecting her for hours yet. I opened the door (even though I was naked) and ushered her in. After the door was closed, we threw our arms round each other and had a long passionate kiss. Even though it had only been just over three weeks, it had been too long.

She was only staying one night, and she had managed to get away from her appointment early. My husband wasn’t home though, so I quickly decided to text him. Since I let him fuck her whilst I was asleep, we agreed that we would always ask the absent partner for permission to fuck her, as we wanted everything to be out in the open. I’ve given him permission a couple of times to fuck her without me, and I’d fucked her the once without him. Now, it was my turn again. His reply was lovely: “Horny sluts. Make sure you document what you get up to. I want to read it when I come in. Fuck ya both later. xxx”

I put the phone down and dipped down in front of Vicki pulling at the bottom of her dress. She lifted her arms straight up whilst I removed the dress. I dropped the dress onto the floor and put my arms under her armpits and unclipped her bra, slipping the straps off her shoulders before removing the cups from her 32GG tits. How quickly the important businesswoman turned into the naked slut. I swung her bra round my head and released it to fly down the hall, as we both giggled. She pushed her tits up against mine as we embraced and had a very long tonguey kiss.

I just couldn’t stop kissing her. Hours before I had been daydreaming about my mouth being locked onto her cunt, and now it was locked onto her mouth, with no sign of stopping. Victoria’s hands slipped down to my ass (a move she learnt from my husband), and I slid mine down to hers and followed suit. Our 34H and 32GG tits were squashed together as our hands groped at our asses and as our tongues explored our mouths.

We were doing this for about half an hour until we eventually broke off the kiss. I found myself looking longingly at her, and she seemed to be returning the loving look. As I gazed at her, I realised this was far more than a lusty look between two fuckmates, this was far more than two really good friends fucking each other’s brains out. I didn’t know what to think; I was still trying to process what I had just realised. I love my husband as much as ever. He’s the centre of my life, my rock, my cock, my everything, but here she was, my friend who I was wondering if I had fallen in love with.

Whilst I was wondering, I took her to the sofa, and we lay for a bit longer snogging each other and groping at our tits and asses (the latter mostly about staying balanced on the sofa although the ass contact was great). After we stopped snogging, we just laid in each other’s arms talking, just occasionally running a finger across each other’s tits or down our bodies. It was lovely and helped me to get the thoughts settled in my head. But after a while, I realised my cunt was starting to ache and needed some action. I got off the sofa and gently manoeuvred Vicki down the sofa, before climbing on and kneeling with my legs either side of her head. She was looking up lovingly as my cunt lowered towards her mouth. Her tongue contacted my cunt and immediately went to work, switching between gentle and forceful motions, working every part of my cunt that her tongue could reach. I love riding her tongue, and she can seemingly go on for hours, slowly building a mind-blowing orgasm. I collapsed in a heap after I came, and she carried on licking to clean my cunt up and to enjoy the fruits of her labours.

As the weakness subsided, I grabbed some paper and made notes for the fucking diary, as Vicki carried on licking around my cunt. She had her hands locked over my upper legs, so I couldn’t move my cunt away, not that I wanted to. By the amount she was flicking her tongue over my clit, I realised that I was in for a very long very slow build up, but there would be a massive explosion at the end. I wrote as much on the sheet, just leaving a space for the time to orgasm, and then I sat back, closed my eyes, and focussed exclusively on her tongue and my cunt. It felt like hours, but was only about twenty minutes, and eventually, I got that explosive orgasm. I collapsed again in happy exhaustion whilst Vicki cleaned me up.

She unlocked her hold on my legs, so I slid down to lay next to her and started snogging again, this time her mouth strongly tasted of my cunt and juices. We snogged and I tasted myself on her for about half an hour. I adore the taste of my cunt (which is weird because a decade ago, I didn’t like anybody licking me out or tasting me on them).

I slid down her body a little and started sucking and licking her nipples. Her nipples go so hard when they are stimulated, and I love feeling them harden on my tongue. I didn’t really understand why my husband was obsessed with sucking on my nipples – I mean I enjoyed it, but now I have Victoria’s nipples to play with, I totally understand why. I love the moaning noises she makes when I’ve already got her nipples hard and I’m quite forcefully running my tongue round them. I’m sure one day I’ll make her cum by nipple action alone, but I wasn’t going to try today. I started kissing around her tits, returning to her nipples regularly, then I kissed down between them, slowly heading down towards her cunt. As I passed over her bladder, she winced as I touched her.

The reality of her predicament just dawned on me. She had come with full bladder as she always does (not working out my husband wouldn’t be here to deal with it as she was so early), and she would need to unload it before her cunt got any action. She stroked my hair and gently asked whether I’d drink her piss like my husband usually does. She knows I would prefer us to piss in each other’s laps rather than drink it, but she was so looking forward to it before she arrived and she enjoys it so much, I was happy to drink it in that position this time to give her pleasure. You do things like that for people you love.

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.

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.

The Power of Intimate Scent

29 October 2018 /

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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