TMI Tuesday: August 28, 2012 – Gettin’ Off

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This week’s TMI Tuesday questions are about gettin’ off. When you need it, you just gotta get it anyway you can.  (For those who are innocent babies “IT” is sex)

Jack’s Answers
1. Have you ever initiated a booty call?
Yes.  I’ve done it most frequently with a phone call, and less frequently with a text message.  Also, back when I had a pager I would occasionally initiate via pager code, a complicated series of numeric sequences meant to represent words on pagers that could only transmit numerals, i.e. phone numbers.  For instance, “What are you doing tonight?” would be represented by the following:  111487  8123  11  001176  70171647.  You kids today and your smartphones with SMS and instant messaging capabilities.  You all don’t know how good you’ve got it.

Also, get off my lawn.
2. Have you ever accepted a booty call?
Yes.  You must know by now that unless the invitation was so vague as to be easily misinterpreted, I’m not the sort to turn down sex.
“Ohhh, you said sweep together. Sorry, I misunderstood.”

3. Ever had a “friend with benefits” relationship? How long did it last? Are you still friends or acquaintances with that person? Are you still having sex with that friend?
Yes I have, though in most cases when I’ve had an ongoing, emotionless sexual relationship it’s been with an ex-girlfriend or someone I tried unsuccessfully to date beforehand.  In many of my relationships I’ve found that even when we weren’t a good fit as a couple, the sex was still pretty great and it would have been a shame to stop having sex.  Typically these arrangements lasted only until one of us moved onto something more meaningful, i.e. she decided she wanted to fuck (or more likely date) someone else.  I specifically recall a young woman around my own age with whom I had such an arrangement during my first semester of college.  This was eighteen years ago, and I don’t recall either of us referring to it as “friends with benefits”.  For that matter I don’t recall either of us referring to it as anything, actually.  Not even “dating”; after a couple clunky attempts at actually going out on a date our contact with one another outside of class was limited to sex.  While I’m still friends (or at least acquaintances) with a couple of my former bedmates, I don’t still have contact with anyone with whom I had a true ongoing “friends with benefits” relationship.
4. Tell us about your best one-night stand, what made it so good?
The first time I picked someone up in a bar, I was newly twenty-one, virile, confident, and in possession of an impressive sexual stamina that rivals my current prowess.  I found myself at a local bar one night after class.  The place was only sparsely packed, and a young divorcée caught my eye.  I sat next to her at the bar, and as I tried to figure out how to strike up a conversation she saved me the effort.  She asked me about something inconsequential – the music that played over an antique jukebox, if memory serves – and things progressed from there.  We talked about our jobs, our families, and TV shows.  When she finished her drink I bought her another.  She got the next round, and suggested we continue getting to know each other at either my place or hers.  Unwilling to reveal that I still lived with my parents, I opted for hers.  I followed her back to her place, worried every minute that I’d miss a traffic light or something and get lost.  Remember, this was long before GPS or even cell phones were ubiquitous.  But I managed to keep up, and I was rewarded handsomely for my success.  The sex was great, but what really stands out in my mind with regard to that night all those years ago was the sense of accomplishment I got from picking up this woman and taking her to bed.  
5. When was your last one-night stand?
I’m not sure this counts, exactly, as it was with someone I already knew prior to the sex, but here goes:  Shortly before meeting Jill, I got a call from a female friend I knew in college.  We hadn’t seen each other in about four years, though we would occasionally email or IM.  There was never any real romantic interest or sexual tension, but I always found her attractive, and I suspect she felt the same way.  She had been living out of the area – I want to say overseas somewhere – and had recently moved back in with her parents.  I drove an hour or so to hang out with her on some random weekday evening.  We took a walk through a local park, talked about our lives, and got caught up.  Then we went back to her place, she made me dinner, and we played chess.  After her parents went to bed she indicated that she wanted me to stay the night.  I did, despite the fact that I had no toothbrush, no change of clothes, no eye drops or case for my contact lenses, and a new job starting the next day.  I’m not sorry about it either; the sex was very good, even considering the fact that I had to wake up at four o’clock in order to get home in time to shower and prepare for my first day on the job.  Wow, that was almost a decade ago.
6. What’s the grimiest, dirtiest place that you’ve had sex?
I’ve never done it in a dark, trash-filled alley, so I’m going to go with a dank, stuffy hallway in the rear of a dive bar.  We made out, this particular young lady and I, and then I fingered her through her panties with her skirt hiked up.  Emboldened by alcohol, my hand slipped inside her panties briefly, and then we had sex in standing doggy position before we both chickened out and decided to stop.  The hallway led to the restrooms, and there was no way we were going to be able to keep it up for long without being caught.  This location certainly qualified as nasty, and not in the good way.  Having been to the bar recently I can say that nothing has changed.  Honorable mention goes to the bedroom of a girl I briefly dated in my twenties.  We had sex at my place the first few times, and when it came time to do it at her house, I had to seriously re-think the relationship.  I’m not trying to be judgmental at all; I’m certainly not the tidiest, most organized guy in the world.  But the level of chaos I found in this person’s bedroom was such that for the duration of the relationship, such as it was, I refused to stay the night for fear that I’d wake up covered in cockroaches.  Forget dirty clothes strewn about the room – she had dirty dishes that I’m guessing went back more than a few days.
Bonus: What’s the one random thing you wish your friends knew about you?
That I want to fuck their wives, obviously.
Jill’s Answers
1. Have you ever initiated a booty call?
Yes, I have initiated quite a few booty calls.  Most of them were with my boyfriend’s friend, the guy who kissed me in the bathroom at his party.  You can read about this incident here.
2. Have you ever accepted a booty call?
Yes, from the same guy in question #1.  He had a habit of calling me at two in the morning, and by three o’clock I’d be at his house or a hotel room.  He was an amazing lay, and the sex made for some great nights that I still remember fondly today.  The last time I accepted a booty call from him was September 10, 2001.  The next morning, I didn’t find out about the attack on the Twin Towers until I got to work because I had stayed the night with him, and I was in such a rush to get to work that I didn’t get a chance to watch the news as I normally did.

3. Ever had a “friend with benefits” relationship? How long did it last? Are you still friends or acquaintances with that person? Are you still having sex with that friend?
Yes I have.  It lasted about a year, and we are not still friends.  However, I did run into him about a year ago at the grocery store.  He said I looked hot, and asked if I was still willing to hook up.  I told him that I was married and would have to check with my husband.  He seemed embarrassed and changed the subject.  Needless to say, he didn’t call me.  His loss, of course.
4. Tell us about your best one-night stand, what made it so good?
I met this guy one night at a singles mixer.  We talked all night, never leaving the other’s side.  Afterward, he drove me home.  He parked in my driveway and we made out for awhile.  I was already turned on by his amazing tongue, but then he started to lick my hand and I realized that there was no way I was letting him leave until he fucked me.  I don’t know why, but that was the hottest thing ever.  We went in and he treated my body to experiences I could never have imagined.  His focus was on me the entire time, and he gave me the best orgasms I had ever had up until that point in my life.  I came over and over until I lay quivering in a pool of sweat and my own juices.  When he had eaten his fill of me, we had amazing sex and I continued to orgasm throughout.  For awhile, he was the standard by which I judged my partners.  I would have loved to have had more, but we didn’t get around to exchanging numbers, and I never saw him again.
Not to be confused with my best nightstand.
5. When was your last one-night stand?
February 2004, with the guy who was my answer to #4.
6. What’s the grimiest, dirtiest place that you’ve had sex?
The bathroom at a gas station.  I would share more details, but I think this incident would make a good blog post in and of itself.
Bonus: What’s the one random thing you wish your friends knew about you?
That I can squirt, and that I’d love to teach them how if they’d like to learn.

There’s nothing to it!

Fucking the Bed Broken

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We’ll be shopping for a new bed soon, ideally something with a sturdy frame, crafted from solid wood.  If it’s got tie points, even better.

Let me back up a bit.  On Saturday morning, I took our daughter to a birthday party.  We were out until the afternoon, and by the time we got home she was sound asleep, and Jack was very horny.  I put the baby to bed, and Jack and I retired to our own bed.

We made out for awhile, and Jack fingered me.  Then he slipped down between my thighs and gave me head while I rubbed my clit.  I came hard, so forcefully that I could see my wetness all over his face.

I needed him to fuck me.  For some reason, we did it in the reverse of our usual orientation, with our heads at the foot of the bed, and our feet at the head.  We’ve done this before, but it isn’t typical.  We started off with me riding him in cowgirl position.  I tend to ride really hard, like Jack is a mechanical bull and I’m a drunken city girl at a country bar in cut-off shorts and cowboy boots.  I grind hard against Jack, my hips and my ass undulating as I moan or even scream.  Jack seems to like this.

As I rode him, I played with my clit.  I’d already had a very intense orgasm, and my actions were partially for show.  But when he noticed what I was doing Jack put his own hand into the mix and got me off quickly.  As my climax hit me I collapsed on top of him, my undulations gradually slowing to a halt.  I lowered my mouth to his and he gently bit my bottom lip, sending a jolt straight to my still-quivering, still-dripping pussy.

When my heartbeat returned to normal, Jack wanted to be on top.  I took his place on the mattress and spread my legs wide for him.  He fucked me like it was the first time, or the last time.  The only word that comes to mind to describe his movements is “pounding”.  He’s pounded me before, of course.  But this was something altogether different.

By this point, we’d moved the mattress about six inches from the wall.  It felt like the mattress was sliding off of the box spring, but looking at my mirrored closet doors they were perfectly lined up.  In the mirror, Jack did notice that the head of the bed was rising off of the ground.  That should have been a red flag, but it wasn’t.  After all, the foot of the bed, where our heads were, didn’t seem to be dipping at all.

Suddenly we heard a crack and lurched forward.

“We broke the bed,” one of us said.  I don’t remember if it was me, or if I heard Jack say it.  But it was true!  We had broken our bed!  We stopped fucking and got up to assess the damage.  Sure enough, one of the legs was broken, hanging by a thread from the rest of the frame.

It could have been worse.  The noise and the crash could have woken up the baby.  If that had happened it would have been unlikely that we’d have gotten to finish.  But even though she was right in the next room she slept through the whole thing.  Lucky us.
We had to finish up, though.  We tried it on the floor, right beside the rickety bedframe, but it wasn’t happening.  I don’t know if it was the hardness of the floor after the relative softness of the bed, or if it was the fact that we’d JUST BROKEN THE FUCKING BED, but Jack seemed like he was having trouble focusing.
I went into the baby’s room and took her out of her bed.  I carried her out to the living room and left her sleeping peacefully on the couch.  Then Jack and I lay down a duvet on the floor in her room and went at it on that.  I gave him some of my best dirty talk, and by best, I mean my absolute filthiest.  It didn’t take him very long.
He asked me where I wanted his cum.  I told him on my tits, and when he pulled out I took his spasming cock in my hand, pumping it vigorously.  When he came he erupted like a fountain, his sweetness washing over me.  I rubbed it into my breasts with my hands and licked my fingers clean.  
After we showered, I put the Throe and the duvet cover into the washing machine while Jack disassembled the bedframe.  It’s currently in three long pieces out on our balcony.  We’ll get rid of it the next time our local waste management company schedules an odd-size trash pickup. 
The bed had a good run.  It lasted me fifteen years and five moves.  I should also point out that my previous bed, which this one replaced, also collapsed during a particularly energetic sex session.
-Jill

Sinful Sunday: Suitporn

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The last time I was the subject of a Sinful Sunday post, it got a very positive response, likely due to the fact that I look pretty good in a suit.  (If you haven’t seen it, head right over and check it out.)  Seeking to capture lightning in a bottle, we’re doing something similar this week.

Sinful Sunday

Formspring Friday: Share and Share Alike

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Jill, do you ever let Jack wear your panties?

I never have, but not because I find the idea unpalatable or because I am so possessive of my panties that I won’t let my husband wear them.  I’ve never let Jack wear my panties simply because he’s never asked, and I’m guessing that he never will.

Jack and I are pretty open with each other in terms of sexual desires and fantasies, and we never pass judgment on what turns the other on.  So I don’t have any reason to suspect that Jack secretly wants to wear my panties and just hasn’t figured out how to bring it up.  He’s incredibly vocal about the things (and for that matter, the people) he’d like to do.  He thinks nothing of making a sexual request, with the understanding that I’m unlikely to fly into a rage or even look at him funny over the fact that he’d like to fuck my best friend.  If he wanted to wear my panties I am certain that he would have asked by now.

If he asked, I would have no problem handing over a pair for him to wear, but it isn’t something that turns me on.  I’ve never been aroused by the idea of a lover wearing my panties.  But if it turned Jack on, I see no reason to deny him.  In fact, if it turned him on, it stands to reason that it might turn me on as well, since I get very excited by indulging a naughty request from the man I love.  Maybe he would be so turned on by wearing my panties that he’d fuck me better than he ever has before.  With that in mind, how could I refuse?

I do my best to be, in the words of Dan Savage, GGG:  Good, giving, and game.  I have fulfilled requests for my husband and did things that I never could have imagined doing when I was much younger.  For example, most of the group sex that I have experienced, including threesomes and sex with a woman, has been at his suggestion.  The thing is, once Jack pushed me out of my comfort zone I found that I really loved it.  I don’t think there is anything prudish about me when it comes to trying something new, within reason.  So if Jack ever asked to wear my panties, of course I would let him.

If you want to ask us anything, drop us a line on Formspring, or use the handy Formspring widget on the right-hand side of our blog.  We like sexy questions!  To see who else participated this week, visit Twitter and search for #FormspringFriday!  If you have a Formspring account and you aren’t already participating, feel free to join in the Formspring Friday fun!

Flash Fiction Friday: Cruising Altitude

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The plane was well over the ocean when it began.
The flight had been underway for several hours and the cabin was quiet.  Most of the passengers were asleep.  Feeling drowsy himself, Jim set down his magazine, intent on catching a couple hours’ rest.  That’s when he peered across the aisle and saw them.
The blouse hung off of her pale shoulders, revealing soft flesh beneath.  The man seated beside her nuzzled her breasts as his hand snaked beneath her skirt.  Jim watched as she tugged her panties over her hips.  As the man began to move his arm slowly, deliberately, his seatmate writhed in ecstasy.  He lifted his magazine again in an effort to hide his gaze.
He continued to enjoy the show until he heard a voice behind him.  “How can I help you, ma’am?”
The other voice was soft, elderly.  He could hear the embarrassment in her tone.  “Why is this happening?  Why doesn’t someone stop them?”
“Ma’am,” began the stewardess, “please read the fine print on the back of your ticket.
Curious, Jim withdrew his own ticket from his coat pocket.  Printed in bold type were the words  Passengers may have sex on flight. (198/199)

Behind the Scenes

Unlike recent Flash Fiction Friday challenges, in particular last week’s, I found this one surprisingly easy.  As soon as I saw the prompt photo I knew exactly how I was going to handle it.  I didn’t begin writing until relatively late Thursday night, and managed to complete the story in a matter of minutes.

The only aspect of the story on which I wasn’t certain right at the beginning was the ending, for which I intended to include some manner of twist.  I wasn’t sure whether the person complaining about the copulating couple would be Jim, the character through whose eyes we view the events; or someone else.  I ultimately decided that it would be more fun to have Jim enjoying the show rather than to have him react with distaste at the exhibitionism across the aisle, and I assigned the objection to an elderly passenger in another row.  In doing so, I attempted to research whether call buttons were in use on commercial airliners in the 1970s, when the prompt photo appears to have been taken.  (Hence my use of “stewardess” rather than “flight attendant”, although “stewardess” is a whole word shorter.)  Gleaning no definitive answer from a twenty-second Google search, I decided to sidestep the entire issue.

As was the case last week, the twist here is that the characters inhabit a world wherein behavior currently considered indecent or lewd is acceptable in public, or at least on public transportation.  As was the case last week, one character is unaware of the change in society’s mores.  I’m not certain whether this recurring theme is related to my own desire for society to loosen up, but it might be.

In addition to the prompt photo, the other requirements imposed by Ram the Sunlover were the inclusion of the word “bold”, and a word count of between 195 and 199.  Regarding the former, I considered using it to refer to the actions of the couple; it is a bold display in which they’re engaging.  But I prefer my use of the word to describe a printed disclaimer that allows for public sex on this flight.

Regarding the latter, I can’t imagine that I’m the only one who finds a required word range much more challenging than a maximum word limit.  I’m not in any way saying that it made this installment of Flash Fiction Friday unpleasant or even necessarily difficult.  But as I was writing I found myself at one point ready to wrap up the story only to realize that I was fifty words or so short of the minimum.
Incidentally, an account of our own experience with mid-flight hanky-panky can be found here.

Deleted Scenes

None.

Soundtrack

Jet Airliner by Steve Miller Band, from 1977.

The Naughty Hangout: Nightmare

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This week’s main theme at The Naughty Hangout is “Fear”.  Rather than going with our instinct and shooting something tongue-in-cheek – dead vibrator batteries, an extended visit with the in-laws, a toddler that won’t nap – we decided to get a bit more creative.  Jill sits upright in bed, her sleepy eyes adjusting to a most unsettling sight out on the balcony.

Thanks to Nolens Volens, we’re trying a mouseover image for the first time.  This enables us to interpret this week’s two backup themes, “Addiction” and “Pleasure”, as well.  (As you’re undoubtedly aware, we’re addicted to pleasure.)  So don’t forget to mouse over the main image for a surprise!

See who else is being naughty this week!

Wicked Wednesday: On Reaching Thirty-Six

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I woke to warm sunshine washing over my naked body.  It had to be almost nine o’clock, and I silently thanked my wife for letting me sleep in.  I leaned close to my nightstand and opened the top drawer.  My phone lay within, sequestered there around six-thirty once the Facebook greetings began coming in, not to mention the text messages and, most inexplicably, several phone calls.  The nerve of some people, I thought.  Who in their right mind would call me before eleven on my birthday?
I set the phone on my nightstand and shut the drawer.  Slowly and only half-committed, I sat up on the edge of the bed, almost certain that I was ready to enjoy my day.  We had planned an outing to the beach, and a delicious lunch at a restaurant overlooking the ocean.  I held my arms out to my sides and stretched, yawning silently.  It was when I finally stepped out of bed that I heard her.
“Oh, you’re up,” Jill said walking into our room.  She shut the door and walked around to my side of the bed.  I could hear disappointment in her voice as she spoke:  “I was hoping to wake you up myself.”
She dropped her bathrobe to the floor, revealing nothing beneath but bare flesh.  I could see where this was going, and so I got back in bed.  Standing before me, Jill gazed at my arousal and licked her lips.  Then she climbed on top of me.
I didn’t have to ask about the baby’s whereabouts.  I assumed that Jill had parked her on the sofa with breakfast on a plate beside her and cartoons playing on television.  And I mean live television, not On Demand or something for the DVR.  Otherwise as soon as the show ended we would have been subjected to persistent knocking on the bedroom door and an adorable voice asking Mommy to put something else on.
Jill kissed me hard on the mouth, her tongue making a swift but brief entrance before retreating.  I caressed her breasts, then moved my hand between her legs and settled into the warm wetness of her pussy.  I found her clit and began to stroke.  Only then did Jill stop me.
“It’s your birthday,” she said.  “It’s all about you.”
It’s rare that I cum first.  I prefer to make sure my wife’s needs are met, or better still exceeded, before focusing on my own pleasure.  Sometimes, when we’re in a hurry, Jill will insist that I cum now and she’ll cum later.  I usually put up a fight.  But it was birthday.  If she wanted the focus to be on me, I wasn’t going to argue.
She kissed her way down my neck and over my shoulders, then along my chest.  As her mouth found my nipples, my cock throbbed insistently, announcing its need.  It wasn’t long before her lips enveloped me, her mouth sinking all the way to my balls.  I closed my eyes and felt her hands on my thighs, her lips and tongue continuing to pleasure me all the while.
I reached down and placed a hand on her head as it bobbed rhythmically.  I didn’t pull her or push her; I simply guided her ministrations.  As she continued to lick and suck, I let my fingers get tangled in her hair.  Eventually I took her locks in either hand, holding it like reins.  I pulled her down, feeling the head of my cock lodge in the back of her throat.  I relaxed my grip and she rose back up, gasping for air.
Eventually the end was in sight.  Hearing my orgasmic moans, Jill closed her lips around the swollen head, and with her hand she stroked me vigorously.  The final stroke brought forth an eruption of such volume that it seemed as though I hadn’t climaxed in weeks.  She didn’t miss a drop.
Needless to say, it was a very happy birthday.
-Jack

Prompt:  Happy

Retro HNT: You know you want to…

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“You know you want to…”, posted September 23, 2010

In 2010, we posted fifty-two consecutive weeks of pictures at OHNT.  We’re posting them on our blog, one per week.  They can be found here, along with background information and all the comments they received.

TMI Tuesday: August 21, 2012 – Pain and Pleasure

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This week’s TMI Tuesday theme and questions come from Bi and Bi.

Jack’s Answers
1. Which do you enjoy more in bed, pain or pleasure?
Definitely pleasure.  That’s not to say that I haven’t experimented with pain (as a recipient); in my younger days when I had no children and plenty of time, I would occasionally clamp a big black binder clip to my nipple during masturbation.  It was kind of fun, it possibly being my first real sortie into the realm of kink, but the fact is it didn’t do much for me.  And this is coming from a guy with really sensitive nipples.  Seriously, it’s like there’s an air hose going from my nipples to my cock.  If you’re ever in the same room as me, try it:  Put your mouth on one of my nipples – you don’t even have to blow – and see if something doesn’t inflate.
2. Do you like being tickled during sex? Where?
No.  Please don’t tickle me.  Caress me, stroke me, kiss me, lick me, suck me.  But there’s no need for tickles, thanks.  I’m a firm believer that sex should be fun, and that laughter during sex is perfectly acceptable as long as it’s not at my expense.  But I’m not a fan of being tickled, if only because I think there are a lot more useful things for my partner to do with her hands.  Also, while I’ve never accidentally peed while being tickled, I’d hate for the first time to occur during sex.
3. Have you ever used feathers during sex?
Yes.  Years ago, curious about fucking an emu, I broke into a local zoo after hours.  I had made myself an intricate suit of feathers with which I thought I hoped to avoid raising the emu’s suspicions.  Unfortunately the only feathers I had were synthetic ones from a down comforter, and the emu bolted.  Turns out that they can run up to thirty miles per hour.  Defeated, I headed to the penguin exhibit, figuring that he or she wouldn’t be able to get away.  After all, the movie was called March of the Penguins, not Race of the Penguins.  I selected a suitable-looking specimen, hopped into the exhibit, and got started.  Unfortunately a zookeeper caught us – I mean, caught me – and I had to cast off my feather suit before hightailing it out of there.
Call me a wide-eyed optimist, but I was  hoping we’d raise a family together.

4. Do you like to be blindfolded during sex? Why?
No, but all of my partners have all seemed to prefer it.  And when a blindfold wasn’t readily available they all insisted that I fuck them from behind.  Not sure why.
5. Have you ever used cold or heat as part of your sex play? What provided the cold or heat?
In my single days I was actually infamous for my tendency to incorporate intense cold into my sexual activity.  The cold was provided by my failure to pay the heating bill.
6. Do you enjoy being spanked, giving spankings, or both?
Being spanked?  No.  Giving spankings?  Yes.  I’m sure someone with a background in psychology could successfully analyze why I’m not into receiving; perhaps it has something to do with a spanking-related trauma from my childhood, or maybe it’s because I’m too dominant to allow myself to be put in a submissive position for anyone, even my wife.  But who cares?  One thing I do know for sure is the reason that I like to spank Jill.  It has nothing to do with the way her soft, supple ass feels against my hand.  It has nothing to do with the excitement I derive from inflicting pain (note: I don’t derive excitement from inflicting pain) or even how turned on she gets from behind spanked.  It has everything to do, however, with the fact that I am  a stay-at-home Dad who does not spank his frequently disobedient child.
7. Do you have a safeword? Have you ever used it?
Yes, we have a safeword; it is “harder”.  
Bonus: Tell us in 3-4 sentences the most painful or pleasurable sexual experience you have had.
Tough question to answer.  With twenty years’ experience under my belt, most of it good, it’s difficult to narrow it down to just one most pleasurable experience.  But I’m inclined to go with the most recent time Jill and I had sex, as it’s always very pleasurable and in being the most recent experience it’s still very fresh in my mind.  As I write this on Monday, the most recent sex between Jill and I occurred on Sunday night.

Jill’s Answers

1. Which do you enjoy more in bed, pain or pleasure?
Definitely pleasure.  I love to be kissed, touched, cuddled, caressed, and fucked.  I love G-spot play.  I’m not really into pain, beyond the occasional playful spanking, and even when I am restrained in a less-than-comfortable position it’s about the pleasure, not the pain.

2. Do you like being tickled during sex? Where?
No, I don’t like being tickled during sex.  Tickling makes me jumpy, and in the context of a sexual experience I just don’t enjoy it.  If something (or someone) tickles me during orgasm it can ruin it, and if it happens right before orgasm it can throw me off completely, forcing me back almost to square one.  I am a very ticklish person, and at times in the middle of sex, especially oral sex, Jack accidentally touches me in a way that registers in my brain as tickling, and it gets me off of my game a little bit.  The closest I get to enjoying tickling as part of our sex play is when Jack sucks my toes.  This really straddles the line between intense pleasure and tickling.  Fortunately Jack knows what he’s doing, and tends to land on the “intense pleasure” side rather than the “tickling” side.

3. Have you ever used feathers during sex?
Not that I can recall.  I know we’ve done some tactile play while I was blindfolded, but I don’t recall Jack using a feather as one of the items.

Doesn’t count.  The feathers aren’t real.

4. Do you like to be blindfolded during sex? Why?
Though it’s not something I need to experience every single time, yes, I enjoy being blindfolded during sex.  There is a lot of excitement in not knowing where Jack is going to touch or what he is going to do.  The next lick or suck could be going literally anywhere!  Plus it makes me feel vulnerable to put on a blindfold, especially if I am also restrained in some way, or if I have other senses cut off as well.  That requires a lot of trust, and strengthens the bond I have with Jack.  Another exciting aspect of being blindfolded involves fantasy.  Those lips, those hands, and that cock could be anybody’s.
5. Have you ever used cold or heat as part of your sex play? What provided the cold or heat?
We have used cold as part of our sex play, usually in the form of ice cubes.  Most of the time Jack sucks on the ice for awhile, drastically bringing down the temperature of his mouth.  Then he sucks my nipples or my clit, or licks my pussy with an ice-cold tongue.  I also love it when he leaves the ice in his mouth.  The heat of my body melts the ice in seconds.  I also vaguely remember using something minty in my mouth, not an Altoid but something similar, while giving Jack a blowjob.  As I recall, it didn’t really intensify the experience for him.
6. Do you enjoy being spanked, giving spankings, or both?
I enjoy being spanked occasionally.  Like blindfolding, I don’t want it all the time.  I prefer to be spanked when Jack is fucking me doggy style as I don’t get much out of spanking for its own sake.  As for giving spankings, sometimes I will swat Jack’s ass, but I don’t do it in a dominant way, and neither of us really gets off on it.  It’s more playful than erotic.  The truth is that I’d much rather squeeze his ass like a package of Charmin than spank him.
7. Do you have a safeword? Have you ever used it?
No, we don’t have one.  Our BDSM experience is so limited that it has never been an issue.  In the past, when I’ve been restrained in an uncomfortable position, I’ve been able to wriggle into a better one, or else tell Jack that I need to be repositioned.  We don’t do scenes of any kind, nor are we into rape play, so if I indicate to Jack that I am uncomfortable or that I need the handcuffs removed, he knows that I’m not acting.  
Bonus: Tell us in 3-4 sentences the most painful or pleasurable sexual experience you have had.
I’ve had lots of pleasurable experiences, certainly more than I’ve had painful ones.  (If you want to read about a particularly painful sexual experience, you can do so here.)  Lots of different things like having sex outside, being fingered in public, G-spot play and fisting are all indescribably exciting to me.  But even our “routine” sex is very pleasurable.  Jack knows my body well and can read my cues, plus we have great communication and that helps as well.
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