This is not sexy time rope. This is I have an idea for a photo, let’s do a trial run kind of rope. It’s also far from perfect, my rope skills are average, but they damn well do the job when I’m tying someone up and that is what counts. Tying myself though, not hot, I don’t get off on that.
This rope I’ve tied on myself hurts, and I do like the hurts. I’ve tied it tight, because that will look sexier, but oh my, it’s so tight that is actually feels sexier.
I lie on my back, because we all know that sexy pictures where you are on your back work well, when I lie down and try various positions for optimum selfie sexiness, certain wraps of the rope dig in to my flesh and that feeling is very distracting.
For many people this might be the point where their hand slips beneath the rope, beneath the fabric of their underwear, to find warm, wanton flesh that responds to the familiar movement of their fingers as they writhe and arch against the building tension within them. Moaning as they bring themselves closer and closer to climax, revelling in the feeling of the rope and wetness of their cunt, or the hard, deep throb of their cock. This is the point where they care not why they tied the rope, only focusing on the feelings the rope has stirred within them.
I am not that person. I could have touched myself at that point, but it would not have felt sexy. Instead I posed for my iPhone, tights pulled down a little, tugging on a wrap of rope as I do so. Which does feel good, far better than touching myself would have. I tug a little further, hoping to flash a little bit of what currently lies hidden beneath my thong. There’s something in this action, in the pulling of fabric and tightening of the bindings I wrapped myself in that makes me want more.
I want my arse out, for some reason this desire is far more arousing than touching myself would be, the act of pulling at my tights trying to wiggle at the right angle to free them from the taut wraps of the rope causes feelings in places I was not intending to create sensations. The rope digs deeper at points, and the wrap that rests just beneath my bum cheeks is the number one cause of my unexpected arousal.
I take the last few photos. They are of my bare arse cheeks, tights pulled down to my thighs, thong still in place, and a view of this state of undress from the front, so you can better see the rope work but also my new and unexpected state of undress. Then I tug against that particular line of rope, the one nestled underneath by bum cheeks. I pull it as tight as I can and the ouch it creates, makes my cunt throb and still I don’t have any inclination touch myself.
I do however have an inclination to desire something else …
At that moment in time I won’t lie, my mind wandered. I my mind I was flat on my back, legs in the air, pushed towards my face, thong pushed aside or torn from me in his eagerness to gain access, so his cock can fuck me, hard and relentlessly, while I pull against my own ropes, as they bite into my flesh, showing they were there, making their mark for when they are removed but I still want to remember. Yes, his hard cock a good fuck, would have been perfect in that moment. Unfortunately my favourite appendage and its owner were not to hand, so I did what I must and my hand reached for something that would in his absence prove most fruitful.
My Doxy is soon in its rightful place, in my hand and on my cunt. If I put it anywhere near my clit at this point I’ll come in two seconds flat. Instead I ride its head, gyrating against it, as it grinds against me, almost as if it’s eager for entry, its position perfect. Instead the vibrations reach like tendrils up into my cunt, reaching every part of me that needs releasing from those unfulfilled aches.
As I move against the Doxy, one hand pulling ever tighter against the rope beneath my bum, the pain it creates causing my arousal to increase. Not just the physical sensation of the pain, but the act of causing it too. I feels like the perfect time to be both a Sadist and masochist and in that moment both of those desires are being filled.
I pull and I grind, and I moan out loud as the Doxy does what I entrust it to do and takes me plummeting into delicious orgasmic delight. It’s now that I move it to my clit, and I get a second wave of alternate orgasmic feels. More of a surface orgasm, my skins tingles with the feeling that radiates from clit, while the orgasm that started deep within me causes all my internal parts to throb and shudder with pleasure.
I untie the rope, and remind myself that maybe I should try this again sometime. The exhibitionist in me wondering what other images and tales it will create that I might be able to share with my online friends. I guess we will all have to wait and see …
I am adding this to the Masturbation Monday link up, and I hope you go and check out the other awesome blog posts there this week.
If you enjoy the content I provide both here and as part of the #ProudToBeKinky Podcast and you would like to support that, then likes and comments are joyful to receive and you can also click below to support me through Ko-fi. All support through Ko-fi is going towards my Eroticon attendance in March.