{"id":1568,"date":"2018-12-27T23:21:39","date_gmt":"2018-12-27T23:21:39","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/bettybutch.com\/?p=1568"},"modified":"2019-05-22T19:05:04","modified_gmt":"2019-05-22T19:05:04","slug":"queer-sex-diaries-on-the-fly","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/bettybutch.com\/index.php\/2018\/12\/27\/queer-sex-diaries-on-the-fly\/","title":{"rendered":"Queer Sex Diaries: On the Fly"},"content":{"rendered":"

Another installment of Queer Sex Diaries, a series in which I recount recent sexual escapades with my partner Buster.\u00a0<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n

(Content Notes:<\/strong> D\/s, choking, verbal humiliation, spitting, biting, forced orgasm, consensual eroticism of ownership tropes, period sex, moments of transmasc dysphoria relating to genitals.)<\/p>\n

\n

\u201cDo you want to get off?\u201d I finally ask Buster, because they\u2019ve been anxious and cramping all day<\/em>. I\u2019m not annoyed (periods are hell), but I am<\/em> genuinely curious. We have period sex all the time, but it\u2019s a carefully planned, thoroughly discussed affair. Like all of our sex. I\u2019m autistic \u2013 I thrive when every aspect of my life is locked into routine. We don\u2019t do quickies on the fly.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d Buster asks, surprised. They\u2019ve already started dinner, which means there\u2019s about twenty minutes of time between now and food hitting the plate.<\/p>\n

\u201cRight now. With the wand. Do you want to come before dinner is done?\u201d I press, trying to sound nonchalant. Confident. Like I\u2019m not fretting that there\u2019s not enough time, not enough build up, not enough conversation.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah,\u201d Buster says slowly, still startled, \u201cSure.\u201d<\/p>\n

We slip into familiar characters \u2013 role play is the fastest way to plunge into the appropriate headspaces \u2013 and I grab them by their hair, which is tucked in a haphazard bun. \u201cYou\u2019ve been caught up in your own bullshit all day,\u201d my character says, \u201cYou\u2019ve barely paid me<\/em> any attention. What are we gonna do about that?\u201d<\/p>\n

I pull them closer to the bed and force them to lift their arms so I can pull their shirt off, release their bra. Both are tossed aside. Their tits are heavy, swollen and sensitive from their period, and Buster whines as I aggressively grip and knead them from behind. I was planning on blindfolding them to lessen the pressure to appear appropriately domly on such short notice, but I can\u2019t find it after a cursory peek around, so I just suck it up for now.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

\u201cDid you think just because you\u2019re on your period, you can keep this from me?\u201d I demand to know, getting my hand down the front of their pants and gripping their vulva through their underwear. Their pad crinkles slightly, and I hide a smile against Buster\u2019s shoulder. Normally I would squeeze their junk until they cry out, but the pad is in the way, and if we want to be quick we can\u2019t get blood all over the place.<\/p>\n

I yank their jeans and underwear down at the same time and nudge them into stepping free of the tangle. Our bed is in an alcove, so I can\u2019t shove them over as roughly as I want \u2013 too many walls, too close together \u2013 but I still get some menacing pushes in as I direct them to sprawl out on top of a discarded black t-shirt. There are old blood stains all over our bedding already, but despite appearances we do<\/em> try to keep spills to a minimum.<\/p>\n

Wands are Buster\u2019s favorite, but I\u2019ve read about the offwhite heads of Magic Wand Rechargeables becoming discolored after frequent period wanking. Until being sent the Kink Power Wand<\/a> for review, Buster went without. The KPW has a black head, so I plug it in and shove it against Buster\u2019s bloody cunt with confidence, grinning fiendishly as they immediately writhe in\u2026 we\u2019ll call it appreciation<\/em>.<\/p>\n

I intend to be verbally rough but physically tender from here on out, but seeing Buster sprawled with their back arching at the abrupt onslaught of stimulation is sadist catnip. I move over them and bite their throat, sucking a mean hickie even though I know we\u2019re visiting my mom tomorrow and Buster has work the next day; I drag my nails down their belly and over their breasts; I pinch and bite their nipples. I want to be nice, but my love is mean, and Buster\u2019s gasps and moans show they know exactly what I\u2019m saying when I squeeze their throat and spit on their face.<\/p>\n

I know a slow upward canter through the wand\u2019s settings is ideal, but Buster\u2019s pleased exhales of my name \u2013 currently disguised as my character\u2019s \u2013 jostle my resolve even more, and I jack the power up before making them hold the wand in place for me. If they don\u2019t like it, they can sneak a few downward clicks while I busy myself with making them gag on my fingers. (They probably won\u2019t turn it down. They\u2019re a chronic good boy.)<\/p>\n

I love the half-swallow flutter of muscles as I push my fingers down the back of their tongue, carefully tucking three into the top of their throat. I fit there perfectly, clutched by nervous, delicate flesh, heat and warmth holding my fingers almost like I\u2019ve decided to fuck their cunt instead. Dysphoria hits me briefly \u2013 I want a bio cock to choke them on \u2013 but I try to push it aside. Buster is the one who needs to fall to pieces right now, not me.<\/p>\n

\u201cTurn that up,\u201d I say, because I\u2019m an asshole and I love them.<\/p>\n

The wand purrs louder, no doubt thundering far harder than Buster\u2019s dick can take after less than ten minutes and absolutely no foreplay. But Buster does<\/em> take it, echoing my cruelty as they rock the wand\u2019s juttering head against themself, the coppery scent of blood overpowering the smell of their come.<\/p>\n

Dysphoria keeps bouncing at the back of my brain like a particularly clumsy bumblebee, intent on doing terrible things to my domspace euphoria. There\u2019s nothing I want more right now than to fuck Buster, but I don\u2019t even own<\/em> a functional harness right now. I could do it by hand, but the cooler weather has my wrists acting up, and stopping to find a dildo and lube would take up too much of our very limited time.<\/p>\n

I indulge in a couple of short thrusts against their hip then stop.<\/p>\n

I focus on fucking their mouth instead, pulling my fingers free to let them breathe whenever they start to legitimately struggle. I smear their spit across their face, flirting with smoothing my palm over their gasping mouth. When I do, I make sure to block their nose as well, calling them names and accusing their illusionary identity of being a greedy slut. Their face is a mess, flushed and wet, and I spit between their parted lips to ease the way as I shove my fingers back down their throat.<\/p>\n

\u201cSee, the thing is,\u201d I say conversationally, enunciating slowly in my character\u2019s heavily stylistic drawl, \u201cYou? You belong to me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes,\u201d Buster gurgles, gasping when I pull my fingers free to fuck up their face again.<\/p>\n

\u201cYour body<\/em> belongs to me. Your orgasm<\/em> belongs to me. You\u2019re here on this bed, fucking up on that wand because I want you to<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n

I\u2019m projecting lazy confidence despite still being worried about how long it\u2019s been. Buster\u2019s orgasm generally comes thirty or forty minutes into a scene, and we\u2019ve already used over half of the measly twenty we can risk before our dinner burns.<\/p>\n

Which is the bigger sub drop risk: ending the scene without the orgasm it\u2019s built around, or prioritizing orgasm over the dinner Buster so dutifully prepared? We should have sussed that out beforehand, but our improv falls back on previous negotiations \u2013 and we\u2019ve never talked this particular scenario out, because time is never a problem.<\/p>\n

I decide to prioritize the orgasm, because I\u2019m pretty sure I can cheerfully spin burnt chicken as a funny story we can laugh at, and we\u2019ve got the money to go pick something up if we can\u2019t cobble a new meal out of what\u2019s in the cabinets. But Buster saves me the trouble by gasping \u201cI\u2019m close!\u201d as if this is a conveniently paced erotica.<\/p>\n

That sounds like a meta joke, but it\u2019s not.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s my girl,\u201d I croon, because Buster\u2019s character of choice is genderfluid and hungry for gendered endearments from across the spectrum. They groan, and I set to work brutalizing their tits as best as I can before they come. I hold a nipple between my teeth and suck, moving my spit-damp hand to their other breast so I can try to leave fingerprint bruises with all my self-indulgent pawing.<\/p>\n

I feel their orgasm coming on as surely as I ever feel my own: Buster\u2019s thighs tremble as the wand forces them through it, their back arching as they reverently thank me with my character\u2019s name. The smell of their come is momentarily noticeable through the metallic tang of blood. I soften my grip on their tits, transitioning into a gentle nuzzle with my mouth and fingers both, listening to their ragged breathing until it\u2019s no longer strained.<\/p>\n

\u201cPretty boy, you did so goddamn good,\u201d I croon, licking into their mouth for kisses that come too soon, the breathlessness keeping them blissed out for a precious few seconds longer. \u201cYou were so fucking hot.\u201d<\/p>\n

This feels good<\/em>. We did a thing I didn\u2019t think was possible \u2013 that we probably both<\/em> didn\u2019t think was possible \u2013 and it went okay. I\u2019m proud of both of us.<\/p>\n

\u201cMm, I feel spoiled,\u201d Buster says in their character\u2019s silky murmur, visibly glowing with an all-over flush that does more good things for my brain.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t feel too spoiled now,\u201d I say, petting my hand down their front in slow, firm strokes, \u201cYou\u2019ve still got dinner to finish.\u201d Despite the reminder, I don\u2019t let them up for several minutes longer, rubbing their belly and thighs while they zone out.<\/p>\n

I don\u2019t want Buster to come down from their haze too hard too fast, so as we get up, I menace them playfully. \u201cNuh-uh,\u201d I admonish joyfully, still in character as I grab their hand to stop them from fixing the beautiful mess of their formerly pert bun, \u201cStop fucking with your hair.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m just fixing it,\u201d Buster says lightly, breathlessly. They\u2019re blushing. Menacing was a good call.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t have to preen yourself all the time,\u201d I chastise, and go with the clich\u00e9 because my character\u2019s inclinations are often cheesy: \u201cYou\u2019re perfect as is.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMm.\u201d Buster\u2019s lips slide into a half-smile, feigning being unimpressed. They\u2019re charmed by the corniness and we both know it. \u201cNot if I let dinner burn.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCan you even make it to the stove?\u201d I taunt, despite the fact that we live in an RV and the stove is less than five feet from the end of the bed. Our chosen characters don\u2019t live in an RV, and the blatant denial of our space\u2019s reality helps maintain the scene for a few minutes longer.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ll see.\u201d But the haughtiness melts into laughter as I grab their hips to haul them backwards and fuck up their balance, kissing their neck and shoulders wetly. I can smell blood still, which means they\u2019ll have to get at least partially dressed if they don\u2019t want to drip down their thighs.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s\u2026 tempting to not let<\/em> them. But eventually I stop clutching them against me and let them pull their underwear back on. They\u2019re unsteady, so I keep close, but they\u2019re cheerful as they retrieve our food from the oven. When I ask, they say their cramps are gone.<\/p>\n

Dinner turns out perfect.<\/p>\n

\n

Affiliate links were used in this post. Want more content like this? Consider buying me a coffee<\/a>.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Another installment of Queer Sex Diaries, a series in which I recount recent sexual escapades with my partner Buster.  (Content Notes: D\/s, choking, verbal humiliation, spitting, biting, forced orgasm, consensual eroticism of ownership tropes, period sex, moments of transmasc dysphoria relating to genitals.) “Do you […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":1569,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","_links_to":"","_links_to_target":""},"categories":[3,722,725,2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1568","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-real-life","category-queer-bondage-kink","category-sex-stories","category-erotica"],"aioseo_notices":[],"aioseo_head":"\n\t\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t