FulFILLed slut

This post covers the 3 days that Master stayed with me in my home. What does this mean to you, my dear readers? It means that my thoughts are garbled (along with my pink bits) and that I might forget some details. Give a slut a break, okay? I’ve been used hard for 3 days…thank frikkin’ god…and I am tired and sore (no, not my pussy…just a general ache in my neck and shoulders). I need sleep.

As a refresher, I have a lot of miles earned through a lot of travel with US Airways (R.I.P.) and American Airlines. I use these miles only to buy plane tickets for others. For just about 40,000 miles and $11.20, I was able to purchase a ticket for Master to fly LAS-PHL and he just began his return trip to LAS – in first class, no less.

Thursday – Master arrived a little before 6:00 a.m. on a redeye (LAS-LAX-PHL) and your girl Honeytoes was there at the airport to meet him. The pick-up went swimmingly well and we were soon in my car driving home. There was very little traffic. We stopped to grab a little on-the-go brekkies for Master and then made our way home. I showed him around my humble home. Then we headed to the gym. He did his workout and I did my aqua fit class with the old ladies. I do love that class. We went back home and hung out a bit before we showered. And then?

As I was drying off after my shower, he kissed me and I was soon on my knees sucking Master’s cock. Some dicks are a joy to take into one’s mouth and Master’s falls into that category. Why?

  1. No funky peen odor (no scent at all, frankly)
  2. No pubes (thereby avoiding the awkward picking of hairs from one’s mouth)
  3. Big peen (enough said)
  4. Appreciative nature of receiver of head (a gal does love to hear positive feedback)

I was ordered to bend over the foot of the bed and I finally received into my holes the cock that I had been thinking about (okay, okay…masturbating to) for weeks.

yeslawd

This man somehow doesn’t even need to touch me and I am instantly a sopping wet mess. Truly, I go through more underwear when I’m around him than when I am around anyone else. It is a little ridiculous…and hot. Maybe it is the way he talks to me. He calls me “pet” or “good girl” with a sexy smile on his face and that just does something to me. I’m a simple woman: make my pussy wet and I’m all yours – unless you are of small penile stature, I mean. #nosmalldicks #sizequeen

Master fucked my pussy and then (refer to “yes lawd” squirrel above) my ass. (Honeytoes’ extra tip: I can’t say it enough, people: For a successful assplay session? Lube. Lube. Lube. Or spit. Whatever. And then? Ask him to stop thrusting for a minute and tense up your ass and pull him deeper inside of you. Grind yourself against his dick. It is a spectacular sensation for both. Go on now! Do it!) Truly, the sensation of a hard cock sliding into and out of one’s hiney hole is rapture. The deeper it goes, the better – at least as far as I’m concerned. Master came deep inside of me. At this point, my previous showering efforts were obviously negated. I was covered in sweat and my pink bits were, uh, less than pristine at this point. To the shower!

So, like, the rest of the day was not a sex fest…we had lunch, hung out, went for a pedicure (for him – I had mine on Saturday), and then went to a movie. I truly do not want to say this at all, but I enjoy spending non-sexual time with him. DAMMIT. Y’all know I’m not about that life (#catchingfeelingsisano), but he’s just fun to be around. There. I said it. Even my cats even tolerated his presence in the house and BOTH of them even came out for dinner when he was there. That never happens when someone is in the house other than me.

Friday – This was an early day because your Honeytoes trains at the gym with her trainer every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at 5:00 a.m. #ytho While I worked out/cursed at my trainer, Master did his gym stuff. Other non-sex stuff happened (shower, lunch at the second-largest mall in the US) and then…

Shit. Went. Down.

Lemme take y’all back to sometime in 2003. I’m not exactly sure how this happened, but – long story short – a guy came to my apartment to practice his Shibari on me. (I find Shibari dull because I’m not a rope slut. I’m a #cockslut. I can appreciate its intricacies and beauty once it is completed, but all that crap preceding the final result? Thanks, but I’ll pass.) Well, one thing led to another and he was fucking me sideways (after I was untied). Then he started to finger bang me and before I knew it, my pussy had turned into a veritable geyser. My pussy gushed like a fire hydrant in Philadelphia during the summer (Not from Philly? Google that shit.). I had never squirted before, but *FUCK* this dude totes made it happen. No, it isn’t pee. Yes, I squirted so hard that I literally hit the television in the room about 5 feet from the foot of my bed. No, I’m not joking. Yes, I was shocked AF.

It has been years since a guy made me squirt. YEARS. The last time was in 2004 in London with my then boyfriend…looked like a crime scene because he did it during my period. We left a generous tip for the housekeeping person who cleaned the room. I think that many guys misunderstand and think it is pee or that they are grossed out by it. I’d venture to say that 99% of men wouldn’t even know how to make a woman squirt. Hell, how many can even identify external female body parts, much less understand how to operate the internal bits?? Onward.

After some more incredibly hot sex (which started with me kissing Master’s nipples and included oral, vaginal, and anal), Master started to manipulate me vigorously. Vigorously, I say. Before I realized what happened, I had squirted all over everything. Fo’ reals. Comforter, sheets, me, him…everything was soaked following several episodes of intense and unexpected squirting. (BONUS! Honeytoes’ extra tip: When you buy a new mattress and your salesperson suggests that $150 waterproof mattress pad, BUY IT. Don’t be a cheapskate. I’m thankful that I listened to Chuck or Biff or whoever it was. Soaking a mattress with #girljuice is not cute.)

In any case, the squirting was more fun than I remembered, though it likely had to do with the man manipulating my bits. Another shower.

Friday evening was also the night we planned to go to a local swingers club. I had been there once last year. I’ve been to another swingers club as well, many times…but that was back in the 2003-2005 time frame. I know a few couples who swing, are involved in BDSM, or are some combination of both. I let them know that Master and I would be there and suggested that they join us. Only one of the three couples showed up…one had a family situation and the girl in the other couple was sick.

Master chose two floggers of mine, I selected a vibrating toy, and we were off to the club. We arrived early so that I could show him around, though there had been a few changes to the club since my last visit. The hot tub was gone, now replaced with “the pit” – a section that is surrounded by a wall about 4 feet high, with mats on the floor. People can stand there and watch or join in, if invited. There was a big room that was dark that contained more thick mats on the floor, some tables and chairs, and several BDSM-inspired toys (spanking bench, stocks, cage, and a wooden suspension set up). I walked Master back to the private sex rooms. There are maybe 12 or so rooms with locking doors and a window with a curtain inside the room. Most of the rooms have a mattress, but a few had chairs or a massage table. Some folks like privacy, some like to be watched, and some like for others to join them. Master said we’d check the rooms out later.

We found a place to sit and did a little people watching. As we sat there, my friends showed up and we talked for a while. Soon, Master decided that it was time for me to get flogged. In public. Balls. We walked to the big room with the BDSM items and I was told to stand with my hands over my head, against the giant wooden rigging support. Master started with a few rather light strokes over my long shirt. (I wore a long shirt and black boots. Under the long shirt I wore a bright pink bra and a pink/black g-string.) It didn’t take long for Master to pull up my shirt, exposing my giant white ass. He began to flog my bare ass. I know that there were people in the room, but I don’t know who was there and whether they were watching because I was facing a wall. The flogging soon became intense and stingy on my ass, but I endured until Master stopped. I believe he was pleased with me. It was my first public flogging in which I was the floggee and not the flogger.

He sat down in a nearby chair and told me to put the vibrator inside of me. If you didn’t click on the link, you might not realize that the vibrator has a remote control. It is sort of v-shaped and one end is inserted, while the other end is placed against the clitoris. I moved behind his chair and inserted the vibrator inside of my pussy. Master was fully in charge of the vibrations.

Master said that he wanted me to walk over to the female of my couple friends and ask if she wanted to be flogged. Have you walked with a vibrating anything inside your muffin? It is an interesting experience, especially when someone is controlling the vibrations. I looked like I was drunk or having a seizure, but I did as I was told. Master and I then moved over to a private room.

We entered the room and locked the door. The curtain was already covering the window. Master left the room to get some towels. When he returned, the festivities began. He’s really a good kisser, y’all…those soft, full lips. Yes, please, Master!

Post-fucking, we progressed to the intense finger fucking and your Honeytoes again fouled another set of sheets and a few towels as well. Don’t cry for the sex club’s mattress, though. They use the industrial kind that have a thick plastic coating – like the kind they have in prison. No, I’ve never been to prison, but I have seen #OITNB.

The swingers club was a success and Master seems interested in going there again the next time he visits me. (Yep, there will be a “next time”!) We’ll try to make his visit coincide with the first Friday of the month because that is a BDSM-friendly night. There’s also another private BDSM event every month or so at another club…that would be super keen as well. Maybe I shouldn’t mention this, but it is my fucking blog, so I will. Master dozed off on the rides to and from the club. It was totes adorbs. Even more adorbs was him covering up with my bright pink pashmina since I had the air conditioning on full blast.

Saturday – For the first time since I started at the gym in July, I missed my aqua fit class this morning. We got home very late and we caught up on some sleep.

Invigorated after our sleep, there was a little morning cuddling…and that led to our next **cough** liaison.

Now, please. I beg of you. If you are queasy, easily grossed out, or a judgmental ass, please do get the fuck out of here now. The rest of you perverts? Let’s get to it.

Yes, we fucked. Oral? Vag? Anal? Check, check, and check. Then Master began expertly manipulating my exceedingly happy pussy once again. I am apparently an unending fountain of female ejaculate. The details here are a little foggy. Your Honeytoes was in quite the state. Oh. Yes. I asked how any fingers Master was using and his answer was “two” and I told him I wanted more. He obliged me and two became three…and then four…and then…? *takes deep breath*

suchslut

His whole hand was inside of my pussy. Yep, I was fisted. It had been YEARS since my last fisting episode…maybe 10 years or so.

Yes, it is pleasurable. Yes, it is painful. Yes, we used a lot of lube. Yes, I fully expect that this will not be the last time that Master does this to his pet. My plan is to step up my Kegel exercises and the use of my yoni eggs in anticipation of our next fist-tacular adventure.

Having Master here with me exceeded my expectations. I am already excited thinking about the next time he visits me here. I will see him in October when I am in Vegas with a friend. I am hopeful he’ll have some time for me during my traditional Thanksgiving week trip to Vegas.

I was not happy to take Master to the airport, but my one cat who sleeps on the pillows Master used has already reclaimed them for herself.

…and always remember: Ho is life, y’all!

Sluttily yours,
Honeytoes
#notesfromaslut #honeytoes #hoislife

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