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

Tag: Polyamory

The Sexualisation of Normal

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Christmas Cheer

My husband and I aren’t massive Christmas people. We’ve both got things in our histories that put a dampener on the season, and given it is my husband’s birthday, we celebrate that in the main and we just normally spend the day snuggling and fucking.

But this year, we have had some really special news to brighten up the season and bring us some Christmas cheer. You see, whilst Victoria was away for work this year, she has been staying down south with our friend Laura. It was us that originally introduced them (at one of our parties), and Laura’s was a convenient place for Vicki to crash, but it quickly turned into a good friendship, and soon after a friendship with some casual sex.

Some casual sex turned into rather a lot of very intimate sex and over the past few months, it appeared to us to be turning into a full-blown relationship, as we had noticed them behaving more and more as a couple. Seems that it happened somewhat by accident, and they only recently realised themselves (a good while after we had). When we stayed with them last week, it was clear they needed to talk something through, so after we got our tits out but before any of us began working towards an orgasm, we had a summit.

Summits are a part of a well-functioning polyamorous relationship, and of course, Vicki is our much loved third and someone we already have an enormously deep relationship with. She was very relieved to know that we had realised what was going on. Be hard not to: you can see it in their eyes and in their interactions. They are very much in love.

Things like this are a crossroads in a polyamorous relationship, and my husband and I had talked a few days before that it was likely she would want out of the relationship, and we would obviously let her go, but would have been tremendously sad at doing so. But things didn’t work out like that.

What Vicki was really nervous about was asking whether we would like a new sort of polyamorous relationship, one built on two married couples rather than one married couple and a third. The married couple and a third thing always did feel a little uneven for me, but it was the best we could do. We loved her and wanted her in our relationship. It was just the reality of the situation that my husband would always be my first concern and me his. This new structure would have Vicki and Laura being each other’s first concern. Seemed much fairer.

And Laura is already very close to us, and perhaps closer than we realised. We helped her to get over her husband’s affair, helped her to reconnect with her lesbian side and brought sex back to life for her. Through all that, we developed really close connections too, and it is something my husband and I have discussed for a while. What we didn’t realise is the connection she felt for us, almost at times jealous of not being part of our family. It was never just about great sex for her, it was always much more than that, but she never really told us.

So, having fallen totally in love with Vicki, this was the perfect arrangement for Laura. They were just scared we wouldn’t want to. They need not have worried. It was the easiest decision my husband and I ever made (although we did privately discuss it to make sure it was what we each wanted).

So, as of last week, we are a polycule of two couples, each pair of the four people closely emotionally connected through love and care, and physically connected through fucking good sex, kink and common bonds.

And as part of the polycule, Laura and Vicki intend to get married next year, and are therefore officially engaged. They’ve already asked me to be chief bridesmaid and my husband to be best man – that makes the best man fucking the chief bridesmaid almost a certainty!

My husband and I are absolutely over the moon with the whole situation. For someone who started with us with no interest in a relationship, our beloved Victoria is now totally and utterly in love, and you can just see what a connection they have. Laura has been through a lot and deserves happiness, and in Vicki and our relationships, she’s having a great chance of that. My husband and I couldn’t be happier with the way it has all worked out.

And of course, we will also still have sex with others, with appropriate agreement from all involved, it just extends our family by one and means Laura is as committed to the family as Vicki, rather than just having some great sex with us.

We talked about living and working arrangements, and how impractical four people living in one place and all mostly working from home would be. Laura had previously decided that she needs to get away from the bad memories that are all around where she currently lives, and therefore, she has decided to sell her house down south. They’ve both seen and experienced enough of what life is like up here to realise they want a bit of that in their futures too, so Laura is going to buy somewhere in our village, hopefully only a minute or two away, and we’ll all have keys to both, so living will be flexible and varied. I feel incredibly lucky to be here, and with these two amazing women both totally committed to our relationships.

And by way of emphasising how much sex there will be between the four of us, my husband and I fucked them both later in the evening, starting as we meant to go on. He had us all in a row bending over the sofa, cunts on display, moving his cock seamlessly from penetrating one cunt to the next before any of us could cum. My husband’s cock seemed particularly hard, and he was switching from cunt to cunt without losing any structural integrity. Having three cunts to fuck really suits him! He eventually ended up cumming in Laura’s ass in her favourite pinned against the wall anal position. He didn’t allow any of the three of us to cum, until at the end, we lay in a triangle, and each licked each other to orgasm. A perfect way to cement our new relationships (if a little frustrating at being edged until the end).

So, in a change of plans, Laura and Vicki are both here for Christmas. They arrived on Christmas Eve Eve, and almost immediately, the lounge became a sea of bare tits and asses, and hairless cunts (as Laura has completed her electrolysis and is as hairless as me and Vicki).

And Laura has already handed over her panties to my husband to lock away. Like Vicki and me, she’s now without periods thanks to her Mirena, and so she too pledged to be pantyless, exactly five years to the day from when I did so.

In some ways, all these whirlwind changes are so surreal, and yet in other ways, they are so perfect. It just feels so comfortable and right. After a pretty crappy year for everything apart from sex, kink, this blog and my relationships, it is a perfect end to the year and a great way to start 2023.

Happy Christmas everyone (or whatever you are celebrating at the moment). Stay safe. Have orgasms. And then have some more orgasms, as there are never enough orgasms in the world.

Mira xxx

The Inevitable Drift Towards Polyamory

In the days after I had realised that I was madly in love with Victoria and still madly in love with my husband, I had little sleep, as I imagined a wonderful situation where Victoria lived with us full time, where she was an equal partner in our relationship, where we got to all love each other, as well as all fuck each other frequently and mercilessly.

I knew there was a good chance that I was heading for a fall. I knew it wasn’t all that likely to work out like I imagined. After all, how likely is it for us to find someone who genuinely and whole-heartedly wants to fuck both of us, let alone that that someone would change her mind (from not wanting a relationship at all to wanting in on a polyamorous one). Still, I dreamed and wanked about it. I couldn’t help it. I was so excited.

I started reading up on all things polyamorous, to prepare myself for the conversations that lay ahead, and also to understand more about what I might be getting into. And there was a lot to take in.

One thing that is very clear is that it isn’t a quick decision to make, nor was it an easy one. Not many polyamorous relationships make it past early days, and the last thing I wanted was to ruin what we had. There are many pitfalls, much to discuss and many plans to be made.

When my husband and me decided to get married, it wasn’t a grand gesture, a lavish proposal on a beach in Tahiti or flashing on a stadium scoreboard. It wasn’t even a down on one knee thing. It was just a conversation where I mentioned we should probably get married and my husband said, yes, I think we should. Simple as that, and real. A lot of those gestures aren’t real, whereas this was sorting it out the way we always sort things out.

Well, it was similar with Vicki. Small steps without a grand design at the end of it, no big decision or question that needed answering, just an inevitable drift towards a special relationship, and a complicated one at that.

The biggest complication which was present right from the start was that this wasn’t a closed relationship. My husband and me both wanted to fuck other people (with full knowledge and consent), indeed often us both fucking the same person. Neither of us wanted to give that prize up when we brought Vicki into the family, and so it was some relief when Vicki agreed to apply our rules to all three of us.

It sounds somewhat more formal than it actually is. All we say is that all three in the group agrees to one or more of the group fucking someone else (someone specific on a person by person basis). We also have rules about sexual protection and tests that we all apply but given these are planned fucks (for demisexual reasons) and not random fucks, often things can be done to allow safe bareback (a preference for all three of us).

It has to be said that although the three of us had different paths to where we are now, the one thing we all had in common was lots and lots of bareback sex. Right through university (or before), through professional careers, all three of us enjoyed a lot of bareback sex, and we were lucky. Very lucky. None of us got any nasty STDs, and there were no pregnancies involved. In these days where you can get STD check-ups on a routine basis, there is now a lot less risk, and when demisexuality means you need to know someone rather than picking them up in a bar, you get a chance to plan and do tests in advance.

When it was just my husband and me, we planned to have people we could both fuck (hence Vicki), and we were always looking for the illusive man we could both fuck. I have to admit we didn’t really think anyone would turn into a full polyamorous partner, but such is our emotional attachment to Vicki that it was inevitable. But our intention wasn’t to find one person to fuck, it was to find a number. What happened with Vicki was very much not part of the plan.

Fundamentally, this is the continuation with a process that began ages ago, as my husband and I began to discuss our sexualities, our desires, our needs, and we realised we wanted to watch other people have sex, and then for us to actually have sex with other people. It has been a brilliant decision, although I realise not a decision that many relationships could take. Ours though has only been enhanced by it.

Although for me, Vicki went from being about sex to being about love. I think it is the increase in the amount of love I could give and receive that makes the situation appealing to me, especially as my nuclear family is toxic and we have little to do with them – the idea of a loving extended family, all of whom contribute to the whole is something many people have and I never have – it has always been about me and my husband, and here it was potentially being about someone else as well. Once I had put away the notion that in loving Victoria, I would reduce my love for my husband in some way, there were only positives for me.

I remember with fondness the day I told Vicki that I loved her. One weekend, when Vicki was down for her fourth weekend in a row (unusual in itself). My husband wasn’t home yet, and I was lying on the floor with Vicki’s cunt firmly planted on my mouth. My tongue was firmly probing her folds and tasting her delicious flavour, and I was staring lovingly up past her mound, her stomach, and her tits to her sweet face, which had gone from smiling to focussing on what my tongue was up to.

After I made her cum for the fourth time, she looked down into my eyes, with a twinkle and what looked like lots of love, and she asked me what I was thinking. She lifted her cunt off my mouth enough for me to speak, that brief pause was all I had to decide whether to go for it. I told her that I loved her and wanted to be able to do this virtually every day rather than a couple of times a month. 

Her smile slightly broadened as she lowered her cunt back down, saying she would like that, before mischievously adding that I needed the practice. Cheeky bitch.

But it was out there, and she hadn’t run away. As I was licking her cunt, I was thinking about how things may develop. It did at least provoke thoughts and start discussions, but the reality was that we were drifting towards polyamory anyway. Fundamentally, we did all feel the same, and whilst nobody wanted to move quickly, the direction of travel was pretty clear, and it wasn’t far from what I imagined.

We all know there will be more. As inevitably as fucking Vicki, there will be others. But we have the framework in place and are all totally on board. What amazing people they both are. What an amazing relationship we all have. And I know the best is yet to come.