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When did I get perverted?
Sweat it all out
Well, life took over and had it's way with us. We quite abruptly vacated that spot of bliss and sweetness and constant lust in favor of boring things such as moving, school, funerals, etc. That isn't to say that life has been terrible - just that we fell for a while into that place that many couples fall into: domesticity. Dun dun dunnnnnnn.

We're back from that trip now, and much like religion - took what we liked with us and left the rest.

Highlight of the last several months has been looking through the digital camera's travel pictures while sitting in an absinthe bar in the French Quarter and blushing through the alcohol.

Insofar as this morning is concerned, there is something precious about waking up alone and aware that the sun is shining outside. Stretching, feeling the delightfully sore reminders of a night of utter carnage. Getting up and smiling at the trail of clothes throughout the house, vibrators on the floor, and the knowledge that he probably has a black lip and a flayed back at the very least.

Romance sometimes makes me want to fuck, I discovered. (In lieu of 'making love,' that is.) I had a moment of jealousy in a bar last night and when I asked what they'd been talking about, he told me that she had asked him how he knew we were right for each other, how does anyone know, how do you know if it's worth it, etc - to which he replied, "There shouldn't be that many questions. You just know."

He recounted this conversation to me in his heartbreakingly honest way that he has about him, and I decided at that moment that he was getting fucked. As luck would have it, he had similar plans, although they included me being pinned down with my head lolling off of the edge of the bed and receiving a righteous pounding. No complaints here, although my hair looks this morning like I'm trying to make dreadlocks.

Yeah - It's time for a showah.

Life - she's alright, yanno?

Currently feeling: happy happy
Sway to: Pink Floyd: Another Brick In The Wall Part 2

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 We celebrated an exquisite anniversary weekend by eating ecstacy and spending a blur of absolute perversion in a fancy hotel suite with a jacuzzi... and a camera. This was on Saturday & my jaw still hurts. (Take that as you will. Ha!) 

I've never had much of an attention span for sexual activity on the rare occasion that I've taken drugs with a S/O - they made me too A.D.D. to get "into" it. This night was a different story - 100% pure delicious and raunchy sexual activity, all night long & until the wee hours of the morning. When I woke up, I wasn't even sore. (Weird? No complaints, though.) 

Relatedly, I'm considering consulting with my partner and posting some photos. Faces, telling body modifications, so on and so forth would not be included in the photos that I'd post. All photos would be behind a cut for those of you who (naughty!) read this journal from work.

Stay tuned!

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Night & DayCollapse )

Last night was our anniversary. We celebrated for most of the night and early morning - with dinner and wine, nipple shields and cupping sets, handcuffs, bondage tape, rope, vibrators, cameras, choking, facial cock-beatings, belts and mutual masturbation.

Which all sounds terribly sadistic / masochistic / perverse & dirty. And it was - but at the same time, I'm not sure I've ever been so romanced by someone in my life. The places that we take each other are indescribable. I expect the world to ignite and explode when we are with each other.

I'm ridiculously tired today. Oh, so worth it. And oh... so nice. =)

Currently feeling: loved loved

Slide it in
I don't come when I have sex. Sex has never been about orgasm for me - First and foremost, it's been about the emotional enjoyment that comes with screwing the brains out of my lover - as well as - I admit it - sort of a private, smug-feeling victory dance due to the fact that no matter how hard my partner tries, I'm not comin'. I just... can't. Not around other people, anyway.

Most of the partners I've had during my adult sex life (you know what I mean) have been impressed by my Kink Factor. I've always been an everything-goes kind of girl. Tie me up with a guitar amp cord, facefuck me, rimjobs, role-playing, whatever - I enjoy it all. Which is why it came as a surprise to me to discover over the past few weeks that I had actually never masturbated to orgasm with a partner before. And now I feel a little bit shy - and where the hell is this feeling coming from? But I enjoy it very much, because I am with someone that I trust implicitly.

And sex is taking on a bit of a new meaning for me - coming after fucking? What's this all about?

Oh my. It's nice. Very nice.

(Not the most eloquently written, but I needed to get it out.)

Currently feeling: calm calm

1 tight fit or Slide it in
I never came so hard with another person as I did last night.
2 tight fits or Slide it in
After an hour or so of rolling around, sweaty, - choking, struggling rape-play, standing above me, ramming his cock down my throat as my head lolled backwards off of the mattress - I straddled him, planted my bits directly on top of his balls, and began jerking him off. I looked down at him and smiled at the illusion that I had a cock. "It's like I'm stroking myself," I said, grinding against him. He looked mildly shocked... and delighted.

"You make such a good boy*" he said to me. "Such a good boy. Let me jack you off, boy. Let me jack you off." He grabbed his own cock and stroked it hard. "Come all over me," he whispered. "I want. You. To come. All. Over. me."

I pushed and gyrated against him, both of us imagining that it was my cock he was stoking, and it was so fucking hot.

"Oh..." He said my name. "Oh... I'm coming, I'm... Oh. my. god..." And he exploded all over his own chest, and I was quivering up against him, and his eyes flew open in what looked like surprise, and he just kept saying, "Holy shit. Oh my god. Oh. Wow."

We joked, as we mopped up some spots on the brilliant red sheets, "the fish are jumpin' ship!"

We giggled and fell asleep.

This morning, after making ourselves late for work due to a mutual need to worship his penis - I simply can not praise the size, beauty and talent of this thing enough - the back of my head was a matted mess. We adjourned to the bathroom to wash the filth off of us, and he picked up a hairbrush. Ever so tenderly - ever so gently - he began to brush my hair. I closed my eyes and let him. He lovingly de-tangled every knot from my head.

I never knew that such a boring, every day task - could feel so good, and so much like lovemaking.

*changed for anonymity.

Currently feeling: loved loved

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Today, millions of troops attacked the mainland of candy_face's tits.

They all died.

candy_face's tits remain victorious.

Currently feeling: amused amused

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Last week in the early morning, we'd been fumbling around on my tiny bed and as I insisted on fastening my lips around his cock, he cried out, "No, no, stop!" Within 3 minutes, he was thrashing, groaning, whimpering and exploding down my throat in a hot rush. "Oh my GOD," he was panting. "Oh my GOD." I slithered my tongue around him as I pulled back and up, to look at him -

He had thrashed himself mostly off of the bed - his head and shoulders hanging completely off the side, the only bits of him touching the mattress being from the waist down. I laughed out loud and silently high-fived myself for that one.

The second one being this morning on his bed - This time he was jacking himself off into my mouth and it took very little time at all. I felt his thigh muscles not just quivering, but twitching and convulsing against my arm, and he asked urgently, "Do you want this?" I took him deeper in response, head bobbing more furiously, but not quite deep throating him. He came quickly and hard, and then kissed me deeply before I had a chance to swallow it all.

"Thank you," he said to me. "Thank you..."

Going back to this entry: Yes. Making my lover delirious with lust is the biggest turn-on I know.

My biggest challenge, I think, will be dropping, rebuilding, and overall sustaining the momentum. I think that I can usually make him come quickly and hard, but he doesn't always come that way. Sometimes - if the momentum is lost - there's no getting it back. And an encounter sans-climax feels like a failure to me.

He gives so much when he's got me beneath him. I could stand to do the same, no?

La la la. Practice makes perfect. (He's in trouble tonight.) =)

Currently feeling: hungry hungry

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After breakfast, he leaned across the table for a quick kiss. We were both still in our early morning frump - t-shirts and jammie pants. He kissed me a second time, deeper, and after a time, we were sweetly sitting in our respective chairs at the kitchen table, running our hands over each other and enjoying a post-eggs-&-coffee-make-out session.

We play the game nearly every day. We detach from one another and make the moves to go about our day. One of us always comes back for more. This time it was me.

He was standing, pouring some more coffee, and I pulled out his cock and sank to my knees in one swift movement. I expected him to protest, but he did not - He firmly grabbed at my tight-fitting t-shirt with one hand, under which I wore nothing but nipple rings. He pulled on one - gently at first, and then hard enough to make me cry out. His other hand around his shaft, he teased my lips just enough for me to moisten the tip of his dick. He cockslapped the left side of my face once or twice before finally allowing me to feast upon him. I relaxed my throat and swallowed him until my nose touched fuzz, and I couldn't feel his 4g frenum piercing anymore. Still pulling on my nipple ring with one hand, he pushed my head firmly against him with his other, pulling back, pushing forward.

He face-fucked me until I pulled back and lifted up my shirt, sandwiching him between my tits and jacking him off that way.

Slick with spit and pre-come, he rubbed the palm of his hand over the head of his cock, which was turning a beautiful red and purple. I could feel his balls tighten against my chest and I rubbed against him as he leaned back against the kitchen sink.

He exploded thickly across my tits and both of our hands, my collar bone and the hem of his own shirt. I gently licked the semen from the head of his cock before handing him a dish towel.

I stood up, and looked out the window directly behind him.

"Um. Right in front of an open window." I laughed, and he smiled at me.


... Later I told him, "This morning? Is definitely going in the candy_face journal." He seemed pleased.

Currently feeling: good good

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Last night I was tied up and had the shit beat out of me.

I was cockslapped across the face so hard that I worried for a moment that my face might bruise. For safety's sake, he removed my nipple rings - and then pulled on my tits so roughly that breathing just wasn't an option. He smacked my pussy until it stung, slapped me hard across the face. He fluctuated between absolutely devouring every square inch of me, and lightly kissing, caressing, speaking softly and playfully withholding his cock.

He twisted me up and had his way with me in more ways than I'd ever been ravished in my life. The look on his face was not one I'll soon forget - brutality in the eyes of someone so typically gentle - and then like magic, his face softened, and he smiled at me. "Are you okay?" he asked. I smiled back, wide-eyed, into the face of an angel. "I am okay."

He raised himself up and over me, and his body is thin, toned, and so soft.

And he kissed me so sweetly, I could feel his love for me -

And then he fucked me so hard that I can still feel it, today.

Currently feeling: loved loved

Slide it in
In 2007, candy_face resolves to...
Become a better bdsm.
Spend more time with my bites.
Find a better glam.
Volunteer to spend time with boy nipples.
Keep my imagination clean.
Learn to play the rubber.
Get your own New Year's Resolutions:


I have no intention of keeping my imagination clean.

Currently feeling: amused amused
Sway to: Garbage - Wicked Ways

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The alarm goes off - it's 6am. We're still naked and tangled up in each other from the fucking that left me raw just four hours ago. I can feel my pussy - aching, throbbing from the pounding that he gave me. I hit snooze.

The alarm goes off - it's 6:08. We're sticky and sweaty in the creases of our bodies and all of the places where we are touching. He presses hips lightly, suggestively, against my thigh. I brush my hand over him - he's half asleep, but already beginning to get hard. I hit snooze.

The alarm goes off - it's 6:14. I sit up, turn the damn thing off... and lay back down. He cradles me in his arms, cupping one hand over my left breast and squeezing. I run my hand down his leg, and he pushes himself against me again - more firmly, this time.

I can't stop touching him, but we're going to be late - He places his hand over the top of mine and guides me in stroking his full, thick cock. The tiniest guttural sounds come from his throat and I lightly run my fingernails along the inside of his thigh. We play this game each morning.

I cup his balls in the palm of my hand and lightly squeeze. His hand floats down between my legs. "You're getting me all wet," I tell him, (in place of "good morning!") and he runs the tips of his fingers over my moistness. "Your poor wet pussy," he whispers gruffly, breathing into my neck. "Your poor. Wet. Pussy. It needs to be fucked."

I'm still swollen, and it's now 6:25am. "We need to leave," one of us says, after several moments of fluctuating between feather light touches and firm grasping, squeezing. I start to sit up and he blocks me - it's as if we are dancing, and he lays me down on my back, rolling on top of me in the same graceful movement.

"Maybe just for a second," he says, and I smile at the familiar phrase. "Maybe just... for two... seconds..." I invite him to me with my hips.

I'm so tight from last night that I doubt for a moment if he can fit. We had literally fucked the bed away from the wall and into the middle of my hardwood bedroom floor, just a few hours ago. "You must be very, very gentle," I tell him, and he understands.

It hurts, I feel the searing pain even as he gently prods me open. I ever so slowly begin to take him in again - all of him, and he is enormous, filling me to a point where I can't and don't want to breathe anymore.The most beautiful sounds come out of him, and nothing turns me on more than his desire. Suddenly we're both slick and slowly grinding. He pushes, and he pushes, and he pushes and there is no pain...

It's as if we're rooted together, he's so deep inside of me. We're grinding our pelvic bones against each other, quickly and oh so hard... And I can feel his blood pumping and his hair is in my face and his mouth covers me and I am breathing his breath and it is clear as he takes me that I belong to him.

We're locked together as deeply as we can possibly go. We're not moving far, but we're moving hard and fast against each other, and I am hyper-aware of each of my 5 senses. I can feel my toes curling against the back of his soft calf, and my own sweat - moistening and cooling the tops of my arms as I lock them around his velvet back. He smells like Pure Sex. I can hear him sucking in his breath, and his skin tastes like copper between my teeth. I can see his angelic face as he lets me take him and it becomes clear that he, in turn - belongs to me.

He cries out and I can't get close enough to him. I want inside of him. The world is throbbing.

It is 6:55am.

---

We finally stumble into the shower and my knees are shaking. It's after 7am and we're both late for work. "Can we go back to bed now?" I half-joke with him as the water falls down upon our wrecked bodies. "...and fuck some more?"

"We can go back to bed." He says, solemnly. "We can go back to bed and fuck some more, and take a nap, and wake up, and fuck again." I bite my lip with the thought of such deliciousness. "We just have to make a really quick trip to work, is all." My face falls.

I'm typing this from my desk, and the mere act of sitting is painful, in that glorious, freshly fucked way. I'm still aching, I can feel his bites on my neck.

Remembering this is making me wet for him again. I will nail him to the wall tonight, swollen pussy be damned.

Currently feeling: horny horny

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Emotional intensity makes me crazy with lust. When you're trying something sexual and new to one or both partners, - it's similar to losing one's virginity. Trust, apprehension, pressing the limits, both people communicating in that raw, "Is this okay" sort of way... it's so revealing. And it is fucking HOT.

I've always liked very much to watch my lovers masturbate. It's intense by default, and personal because they know I'm watching, yet impersonal in that "this-is-not-about-you" sort of way. This is not about pleasing me. This is about pleasuring themselves. In front of me.

And they close their eyes, and for a moment, they look peaceful and pure, with facial expressions that can be likened to the innocence of childhood. It's almost like the look of falling in love - heartbreakingly precious.

Maybe he's on top of me. Maybe he's staring down at my tits while stroking his cock and aiming it at my face, with an expression that is usually mixed: Fear? (Is she really going to let me do this, or is she going to freak out?) Awe? (Oh god, she wants me to do this!) Decision (I'm going to fucking do this whether she wants me to or not...) Maybe he's laying on his back, ignoring me completely. Either way. It's all I can do to not touch him, to not interrupt.

And then he pulls his eyebrows together in deep concentration and stiffens up completely. Maybe he points his toes, maybe they curl up tightly. I watch as his body takes over and that sweet boy inside sinks inside of himself and is temporarily gone. His shoulders stiffen, the veins in his arms will protrude as his blood flows faster and he grips himself more tightly. His thigh muscles will get tense. His mouth will open, his hips will rise. Small, barely suppressed whimpers might come from his throat. And then for a moment, there's a complete loss of control -

(And loss of control? Also makes me crazy with lust.)

The sounds - not the masculine sound of "victory," but the sweet, unguarded sound of relief. Helplessness? The sound of succumbing to a force that has assumed control erupts from his mouth, without suppression. Maybe his back will arch and his head will leave the pillow, or get pushed deeper into it, or both, if he comes hard enough. And I can see his throbbing cock, and his sticky hand still wrapped around it. Sometimes he will smear come over the head of his dick. And his chest and stomach rise and fall with the sudden breaths that he had been almost holding.

... And then the moment has passed. And he's all there again, inside of his head - the beautiful man that changed before my very eyes. From almost shy, to child-like and precious. Searching, concentrating deeply, and ever so slowly losing himself to an abrupt siege from the demon within. Wild abandon...

And back to me again. And I'm wet from all of this voyeurism, intensity, loss of control ...

But it's too late...

For now.

Currently feeling: awake awake
Sway to: Dead Can Dance - Saltarello

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