My name is Pink, and...

God grant me the serenity...

I'm currently 2 years in recovery from my Cocaine addiction and although we're in the middle of his annual Memorial Day weekend visit to Miami, I'm holding strong to my convictions. Ok, well, its not so much because I'm so strong as it is that Cocaine is a bonafide asshole. In the weeks leading up to his visit, we had spoken on the phone about seeing each other. He seemed to have come a little ways from the unnecessarily cocky abuser that he had been described as in my initial post about my addiction to him. It was almost like the good old days, when I met him 7 years ago and it's possible that I may have relapsed, had our text exchange on his first day in town not put a sour taste in my mouth.

9:59 a.m.

Cocaine: On my way to Florida. What's good?

Me: Totally forgot you were coming today. At work now. When do you get here?

(There was no response until 1:03 p.m.)

Cocaine: Just landed in FLL

Me: Welcome

(He didn't respond again, and I assumed it was because he and his cohorts were getting situated and he would hit me up later. I finished work, got home, went on about my evening and heard nothing else from him until I got--what I hope was an alcohol-induced--text at 11:11 p.m.)

Cocaine: What happened to my BJ?

(I didn't reply to this fuckery immediately, because I was trying to give him time to shoot me a "my bad, I'm fucked up" text. But it never came. So at 11:52, I replied)

Me: You already know that you sealed your fate with how you just came at me. Blow yourself.

Cocaine: Smh. You always find a way to act up. Whatever.

Me: Fuck you. You hit me with a text that you were here. Then texted me about a bj. C'mon man. You don't think you need to come better than that? Doesn't matter anyway. Get bent. I'm sure you'll get your bj. Though it won't be from me. And you'll wish it was. And that makes me smile. Asshole.

Cocaine: Shut up chump! Little crying ass. All you said was welcome.

(I snickered to myself reading this. Did this fool expect me to blow him up all day trying to chase him down and suck his dick. Get the fuck outta here. Joker.)

Me: Not gonna argue with you, G. I'll be that, but you'll still be getting sub-par head this weekend. So who's the chump?

Cocaine: Ok

(yeah. checkmate, bitch.)

...to accept the things I cannot change...

To be honest, I wasn't surprised. Why would things be any different this time? Sure, he read the blog post and perhaps he felt bad...for a minute. But drugs are tricky like that. Just when you think you are being comforted by your dependency, reality comes and kicks the shit out of you. Thank god I got that text message before I took a hit this time.

...courage to change the things I can...

So, though I almost slipped off the wagon again, Cocaine was able to remind me via textversation that a) no matter how kinky I am, there is some modicum of respect that I require-and deserve-from anyone I suck, fuck or otherwise and b) His shit is good, but I'm better.

...and the wisdom to know the difference.

The next day came and went with no apology text. I didn't really expect one, but I was hopeful that this guy who I had known for a while now had a little more respect for me than the text-4-bj interaction. He didn't. Oh well.

I wrote the first blog about him expressing a realization of how little I was actually getting from my exchanges with Cocaine. Though there is something innately sexy about him, the ugly way in which he treats me should be enough to keep me sober.

My name is Pink, and I'm 2 years in recovery. But I will always be an addict.

Can you remember a time when you had to give up someone or something, not only because it was right, but because you would respect yourself a lot more for it?

Whoop That Trick

My lover of the moment, QT Geek, continues to surprise me. We recently reconnected after a 2 week hiatus.

---
I receive a text.

          "It's time for your punishment".

Of course, I'm curious as to what punishment means. Should I envision myself getting spanked? Will I be handcuffed? Am I able to give punishment, too? My mind wanders right up until I arrive at his house.
As I pull up, I receive another message.

          "I'm the punisher and you will do as I say."

Okay, now my mind is going wild with imagining. I enter and we commence with pleasantries; he offers drinks. He initiates good conversation. We move from his living room to the kitchen. We continue our pleasantries....

"You are here to serve me!"

Within a few short minutes the roles and rules changed. I attempt to leave the kitchen and QT Geek blocks my movement. I give him the side eye.

           "I did not give you permission to leave."

What? Before I know it, he's grabbed my wrists and is holding me against the wall. He stated that

           " When you walked into the door, you assumed the role as the submissive and I am your master."

As he talked, a slight smirk formed on my face. Shit! This was turning me on.

He leads me downstairs. He commands that I drop to my knees. As I bend down, he pulls my face up and tells me to look into his eyes. He tells me to trust him. He tells me that pain is pleasure. Over the next thirty minutes, we go back and forth between my dick sucking and him suckling of my breasts! As his lips and tongue tease, kiss and bite my nipples, my pussy is throbbing and soaking wet!




He instructs me to bend over. He holds my arms behind my back and spanks me with his Omega paddle. With each swing, I felt both. Pleasure. Pain. As promised. He commands me to respond to any questions or comments, "yes-master". He tells me that he will not accept "no" for an answer. As each minute passes, I become more and more his submissive.

Finally he commands me to rise. And then he slaps me. He slaps me real hard across the face.

There are no more commands, just silence.

He walks me to my car, wishes me a good night and promises to check in later in the week.

My mind is scrabbled. What the fuck just happened? I liked the pleasure of pain. I enjoy the fact that I've found someone who enjoys my kinks. I am thrilled with the idea that I finally met a man who takes care of things- a HNIC! So why am I feeling dirty? Why are tears running down my face? Did he cross a line? Am I actually willing to lose control by any means necessary?

To Pieces

In this place. There is a part of you I can't touch. Can't reach. That's just beyond my finger tips. It is perhaps the part I miss the most.

It seems simple. To think of us chatting.
Laying side by side.
Shoulder to shoulder.
Laughing.
Body parts lazily intertwined.
And then the inevitable irresistibility of you. That would make me. Touch you. Somewhere warm. And wet. And welcoming.

It strikes me that we are so different. Physically.

My dark. Your light.
The constancy of tone in my skin. The playful freckles on yours.

The warm brown of my hair against the deep dark auburn of yours.

Yet it hasn't ever been the contrast that I found most interesting. Touching you. Loving that. Has always been about the response. Your response to my 'call'.

And even to say response. Is to suggest it is aggressive. Overt.

It isn't.

A taking in of breath. A shift in position. A giving in that let's me know I'm welcome. Wanted. Craved.

My face next to your mouth as I'm touching you. Your breath hot and rushing into my ears. The softness of you.
The fleshiness.
My teeth on your chin, neck, shoulder.

Sometimes I look at you.
When I'm touching you.
And your eyes are mostly closed.
And your face is beatific. A look of satisfaction, bliss, openness.

It's almost stopped me. A few times. Looking at you.
Wondering if I deserved all that surrender.
Unsure if it was real. Was I really making you feel that good?
There have been times, when I was nearly certain just the sound of you would make me cum.
Just the sounds you were making. The sounds I was making you make.
The hearing and doing all at once. Would be enough. To push me over the edge.

The giving has been a gift.
Your giving.
The taking an almost spiritual practice.
The finding. The learning. The knowing.
Where and how and which place on your body to touch, caress, kiss, lave - it's been a revelation.
A discovery indebted to your selflessness.

I miss you.
All parts.
The lips I never could have known I'd long to kiss. The curve of your collarbone, its dips and curves. The sway of your back, an alluring and nonsensical tilt just like mine. The stiff pink peaks of your nipples, their implicit invitation to suckle. The softness of your backside, more than enough to grab. The thick wet sweet folds between your legs, the very best I ever ate.

I miss ALL of you. ALL.
Every piece.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Allow Me To Introduce Myself...

Now, there are open-minded people, and then there are OPEN-minded people. I, dear readers, am OPEN! Not only am I a friend to fellow kinky bitches Sheba and Pink Vixxxen, I have also been reading (and getting off to) The Kink Chronicles since it started. Through the past few years, I have shared some of my experiences with the girls and they finally convinced me to join the fold. I started out my sexual journey pretty submissive, following the guy's lead as to how nasty I got. It ended up being that same modus operandi that lead me to the freaky tales I'll be sharing with you.

When I was in my mid-20s, I met an older guy who turned me on to some newshit. New shit that a-I didn't even think I would like and b-Had no idea how many straight men were into. The guy was an former arena football player, which doesn't mean shit except to say he was a man's man. By all outward appearances, that is.

Don't get me wrong, he had always been a freak--a monster pussy and ass-eater, to be exact--and I was always happy to let him indulge. But one day, during a freaky phone session, he kicked things up a notch. He asked me what did I think about using a toy on him, anally. I surprised myself by the lack of hesitation when I replied, "Sure baby, I'll fuck your ass. If that's how you want it." And it was. He stroked himself to an orgasm as he described how he wanted me to fuck him in the ass, slap him and talk dirty to him. He wanted to be dominated, and although it was something new for me, I've never been one to back away from some new shit. After his orgasm(and subsequent drifting off) I hung up the phone and kept masturbating long into the night as I anticipated my first step into female domination, or femdom.

The next time we met up, he had suggested we go to an adult store and pick out his toy. I made sure to embarrass him in the store by asking him loud enough for others to hear, "Is this one was big enough?" or "Do you think you can take all of that?" as we sorted through the selection of dildos. Finally, we settled on a beginner-sized 6 inch dildo with a slight curve and a bottle of Astroglide. I walked to the car and made him pay alone. He was flustered, and visibly horny as he made his way back to the car. I took a deep breath as he approached. There was no turning back now.

I was so excited that I rubbed my pussy the whole ride to the hotel. I stayed in my seat and waited for him to open my door. He did. We got in the room and I told him to take off his clothes and kneel in front of me. He did. I had no idea how this was all coming to me so easily, but hey, I watch a lot of porn. So, I just went with it. While he was kneeling, I walked over to him and lifted my dress. I pressed his face into my pussy and he tried to get into a good position to lick it properly. I stepped up on my toes a bit and he held my ass and sucked my pussy to a screaming orgasm. Good, I thought, at least I got mine squared away. "Get on the bed. On your back," I told him. He did. I pushed his legs open and started to suck his dick. I was scraping my nails all over his thighs, making him writhe in pleasure beneath me then I reached over and grabbed the lube we'd just bought and smeared it around his asshole. He closed his eyes, and as I continued to suck him, I started pushing my finger in. He tensed up, but started to relax and moan as I pushed and twisted my finger in deeper. He tensed up as I got knuckle deep and I told him that if he couldn't take my finger, he definitely wouldn't be able to take the toy dick. I started moving my finger in and out, and he was moaning and grinding onto my finger as if he would cum any minute, so I stopped.

I asked him if he was ready for me to use the toy on him and he just moaned. I slapped him straight across the face. He was stunned. "I asked you a question," I nearly growled. "Are you ready to get fucked or what?" He said yes. "Yes, what?" I asked. "Yes, Mistress." Shit, I liked the sound of that. And he did too, his dick was rock hard and leaking a stream of precum. The Mistress shit got in my head and you would have thought I was a pro the way I quickly lubed up the fake dick and started to ease it in. I made him pull his legs up to his chest and I slapped the back of his thighs as I pushed the head in and started talking shit. I told him to stay still and take this fucking he had asked for. He stopped trying to back away from me and started to buck his hips and stroke his dick while I fucked him. By now, his lubed up ass was making sloppy sounds and I would tease him about a nasty boy he was and how I was going to fuck his ass until it was raw. When I started speeding up the fucking, I leaned over and sucked his dick on the tip of his dick, then sat back up and stared into his face while he seemed to drift off into ecstasy. I stopped only long enough to reposition myself onto his face so that he could suck this pussy while I finished him off. I sat on his face and leaned over him, fucking his ass faster as he licked and sucked my clit.

I came in his mouth, and his dick started pulsating, letting me know he would be right behind me. I lifted off his face and used both hands to simultaneously fuck his ass and stroke his dick. He was moaning like crazy and just before he came he clamped his mouth back onto my pussy and moaned the most delicious orgasm into my pussy...and all over my hands. As I sat up and let go, the toy plopped out of his ass and he let out a big sigh. I laid down next to him, reveling in this new experience (for me, at least) and wondered if he had enjoyed himself. "So, this isn't the last time we doing this, right?" he asked. I guess I got my answer. With this experience, I had opened Pandora's Box and since then, I've definitely expanded my dominating repertoire. Now, any poor schmuck to come my way doesn't stand a chance!

I am Poison Ivy, that's Mistress Ivy to you. Wasn't it a pleasure to meet me?

The Shop Is Closed!

I know you may have been wondering what the fuck happened to me lately...Trust me, the story is a long, repetitive one. I'll give you the deal though, in a nutshell.

After ending my on again, off again relationship with Mr. Boombastic for the last time, I decided to evaluate my most recent team roster and see if there was anyone worth keeping around. There wasn't. Boombastic and I had a great sexual vibe and we liked hanging out together, but the line between fuck buddy and girlfriend started to get blurred. That may not have been a bad thing, but for the fact that there are fundamental issues between he and I that make a "real" relationship pretty impossible.

Now Hood Willy, aside from being dim as a 40-watt lightbulb, disrecpected me and my home last time he came by. The dick is good, but not good enough to trump respect and compensate for his ignorance. Gone.

There were also a couple guys on the bench that I really wasn't "dealing" with on that level, and since they were never interesting enough to make the starting lineup, I cut them too.

There is no shortage of men in Miami, I guess just a shortage of men I want to fuck with. Having come to this conclusion, I have decided to take a break from fucking until I run up on something "special". Ha! Let's see how this goes.

Especially since Cocaine's annual Memorial Day weekend visit is just around the corner...

So tell me, have you ever needed to take a celibacy break? How long did it last?